An Olexander Skripnik Adventure Story
You can know a little more about me from the story "Girls' Soccer Coach" written by this same author, who has exclusive rights to tell all my stories.
Many thanks to jhasty658 for his effort in editing as well as suggestions on developments on this story.
Damon, a freshman athlete, saw me holding a pale pink envelope when I came out of the head coach's office. "Someone's getting married?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said. "His nephew is marrying Nancy Hunters."
"Nancy 'Clara Bow' Hunters?"
"Yeah," I said, chuckling.
"I've heard of her name, but I have no clue why she has that nickname, and who the hell is Clara Bow?"
"Want to have a coffee?"
"Okay," I said, as we walked toward a lounge. "Clara Bow was an actress of the late 1920s. There were many rumors about her holding orgies for the USC football team in which she serviced the entire team."
Damon laughed. "So Nancy had slept with the entire Scarlet Knights?"
"Nah," I said, also laughing. "I don't know about Clara Bow, but Nancy has never served the entire team. As a matter of fact, I don't think she's slept with very many people while she was here. You know Simon O'Carroll?"
"Yeah, he was our quarterback. He's with the Patriot now but he's not getting much play time."
"Yeah," I said. "He was her boyfriend for a while."
"So is she sexy? Have you slept with her?"
"Oh yeah, she has bedroom eyes and is very sexy. I haven't slept with her, but I have to admit that I spent more than one evening with visions of her in my mind and my cock in my hand."
"Okay. So do you know Coach's nephew, too?"
"Yeah. He's also a Rutgers Alma Mater. He didn't play any sports though. He was a year ahead of me and tutored me in a couple Biology courses."
"Oh I see," Damon said. "Hey, I'm hungry. Have you had lunch yet?"
"No," I said. "Okay, let's go." We went for the cafeteria instead of the lounge.
That evening when I checked the venue of the upcoming wedding and remembered what I told Damon earlier, I knew I had that smile again.
I had never told anyone that I actually had slept with Nancy Hunters. Often the players would brag about their sexual encounters to other players and friends, and I had done it on a few occasions, while I was still the school team's wide receiver. However, at the time I had sex with the popular cheerleader of the Scarlet Knights, Nancy was my quarterback Simon's girlfriend, and it would be very unwise to disclose my affair with the sexy blonde.
Nancy didn't just have bedroom eyes. You don't want to be wearing jeans when she's in her cheerleaders outfit in front of you, because it'll be very easy to develop blue balls. On the other hand, it's equally not a good idea to be in football pants while she's wearing anything that would show off her legs, because everyone will know you're having the Nancy Hunters syndrome, our expression for a big hard-on. The toughest part was that Nancy always dressed in a way to intentionally expose most of her thighs.
My ex-girlfriend Maria was also a cheerleader and so we used to hang out pretty often together with Simon and Nancy. I was injured in a game during my sophomore year and suffered severe Colles' wrist fracture. I was eventually sidelined for the entire season after my surgery. I still saw my teammates a lot, but after breaking off with Maria I didn't hang out with the cheerleaders much. Instead of the football field or the gym, my most frequently visited sports-related venue had become the physiotherapy clinic.
I was very surprised one day when I saw Nancy at the clinic while I was waiting for my treatment.
"What happened to you?" I asked Nancy, while studying her. It was the first time I saw her in jeans.
"Low back spasm," she said, smiling. "How have you been? I haven't seen you for a while."
I raised my left arm. "The screws are starting to rust," I said. "How bad is your spasm?"
Nancy chuckled. "Need any WD40 for your screws?"
"Sure, if you have some spares. How's your back?"
"Well," Nancy sighed. "Still hurts when I bend. I'm now off the roster for at least two weeks."
I didn't know why I started painting a mental picture of Nancy bending in front of me in her cheerleader outfit. It was nice that she wasn't wearing a short skirt, or I'd begin developing the Nancy Hunters syndrome. In fact, her jeans wasn't even the typical tight ones made for girls like her.
"I haven't seen you in jeans much," I said.
"Do I look okay?"
"Of course," I said, and rose as the woman behind the desk waved at me. "Excuse me," I told Nancy.
The woman told me it was my turn. I motioned Nancy over. "Let her have her treatment first," I said to the woman. "She's having a lot of pain."
Nancy smiled at me before she followed the woman into a treatment room.
When I came back to the reception area after my treatment, Nancy was still there reading a book.
"Why are you still here, Nancy?" I said.
"Do you want to have lunch together?"
We had lunch together, and then Nancy said she needed to go for her afternoon class.
Nancy turned around after taking a step off her chair. "Are you going to watch the Sunday game?" she said.
"Of course," I said. "If they know I'm not watching, they'll strip my scholarship." Our team was going to play an away game at Pittsburgh.
Nancy chuckled. "Do you want to watch the game together?"
"Well, okay. Are you coming over? Do you want me to pick you up?"
"Why don't you call me up tonight?"
I was still in my bed the next morning when Nancy called me. She was giggling when I answered the phone.
"Too busy with your girl last night, huh?" she said. "You didn't call me."
I chuckled. "I'm sorry, Nancy. I forgot. No, I wasn't with a girl. I was with some friends drinking. I'm not with Maria anymore. You know that."
"Well, Maria starts with the letter M," she said, still giggling. "Where's your N-girl?"
"Oh, you mean Nancy?" I said playfully, and chuckled again.
Nancy burst out laughing. "Say it again when your bud is here," she said.
"I do that all the time. You know that."
"Yeah, yeah," she said. "Anyway. Do you want to have lunch together before watching the game?"
"Hmm. Are you paying?"
She giggled. "I don't get a big scholarship like you guys have."
"Game starts at four. What about two?"
Nancy wasn't wearing jeans when I went to pick her up for the Sunday lunch. She was wearing a long skirt, which meant it covered her ass well. I cursed as I forgot to beat myself off before leaving home. I was also very hungry because I didn't have breakfast yet.
When we got to the restaurant Nancy suggested, there weren't many customers inside. We had the unusual privilege on a Sunday pickoff picking our seat. We took a table at the side with stalls chairs.
As usual we were joking and casually flirting before and during our meal. Nancy slapped my hand when she giggled. After I applied the tactic of withdrawing my hands, she began kicking me under the table. I didn't mind being kicked gently, but when she began raising her foot higher to kick the lower part of my thigh, guided by her shin along my leg, it became a little too much.
I wasn't sure if I had too much root beer, but I felt the need of a bathroom break. I switched topics to talk with Nancy on some course assignments to allow myself to cool down a little before I told her I needed to go to the washroom.
"Actually, I need to make a trip myself," Nancy said, and scooted to the edge of the bench.
"Lady first," I said, as I didn't want her to notice my physical embarrassment, which didn't go away during the cool off period.
I was considering if I should simply beat myself off as I stepped into the tiny men's room. I knew it wouldn't take long anyway. I swung the door closed behind me.
Before I could turn the knob, the door opened again. I saw Nancy's smiling face. Then she stepped inside through the partially open door and closed it behind her.
I was a few seconds late in asking the intuitive question. "Is the ladies room occupied?" I said, then realized how dumb I was. "What're you doing here?" I asked another dumb question.
Nancy smiled slyly at me. "Are you going to beat yourself off?" she said, as she turned the knob to lock the door.
I felt my face heating up. I then felt my body heating up as I felt her finger on my bulge.
"Maybe I can give you a hand," Nancy said, smiling, while leaning forward.
I wasn't gay, and I wasn't a saint. I held her in my arms and starting kissing her passionately. I began cupping her ass cheeks and pressed my body against hers. I raised her skirt up until I could reach her panties, and started pulling them down, while Nancy struggled to open my jeans.
My underwear and my jeans were only down to my knees when Nancy took my cock into her hand and started stroking it. I reached for her ass again and raised her up a little until the position was right, then I shoved forcefully inside her. I didn't know what made her so wet, the flirting, the kicking, or my kisses. It was a hell of a smooth and joyful drive.
.... There is more of this story ...