Confessions of a Soccer Coach
Chapter 2: Elena

Copyright© 2008 by TheDarkKnight

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2: Elena - I was twenty-five, single, and just starting my career when my friend and coworker Jim talked me into coaching his daughter's soccer team. It was an all-star team of high school aged girls who all wanted to play soccer in college. Just me and seventeen outstanding, highly motivated young athletes - what could possibly go wrong?

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Petting  

Just when I was beginning to feel that my one night of weakness was not going to haunt me for the rest of my life, disaster struck. I found out that someone else on the team knew our secret, and in a bizarre twist of Murphy's Law, it was the worst possible person. Elena, our hot-blooded, rebellious keeper, had me by the short hairs.

Elena Ruiz was a fiery, self-absorbed Latino girl who probably should have been kicked off the team for her disruptive behavior. But she was one of the best goalkeepers in the state, and we would have found it a lot more difficult to compete without her in goal. She wasn't at all shy about using that fact to make life miserable for her coaches and teammates. Even some of the parents had questioned us about why we let her get away with things that would have landed any other player on the bench. It was difficult for me to swallow some of the shit she dished out and still work with her, especially since the rest of the players were so much fun to be around and eager to work hard for the good of the team. But it had gotten even harder for me to put up with her since Susan had told me that Elena might be attracted to me. I tried to keep things on a very professional level between us, and she had never shown any overt signs of being interested in me. I began to wonder, and hope, that maybe Susan had misinterpreted something the chatty Ms. Ruiz had said, and that she really wasn't interested in me.

But all my hopeful illusions ended suddenly one day after practice. We had finished as we usually did, with a half-field scrimmage. We had a State Cup elimination tournament coming up, and I was pushing the players even harder than usual. If we played soft against some of the teams we would meet in that tournament, they would hand our heads to us. Don't think of women's soccer as just being some kind of gentle, girlish activity. Girls, especially those serious enough to want to play in college, are just as aggressive and determined as guys. I've had more than one referee tell me that girls games are actually harder to call than boys. I've never been one to teach or encourage dirty play, but for weeks I had been trying to get some of our more timid players to step up their game. On this day, that attitude adjustment had resulted in one of our more docile forwards crashing into Elena as she came out of goal to stop a low shot. Elena took a cleat in the thigh, and came up swinging. I jumped in quickly and got them players separated, but as I did so I noticed some blood on Elena's leg.

I decided we had accomplished everything we needed to that day and declared the practice over. The rest of the players started leaving, but I told Elena to wait for me at my car so I could tend to her wound. I opened up the back of my SUV and she sat over the bumper while I dug out my first aid kit. The cleat mark was high on the inside of her thigh, but thankfully it wasn't very deep.

"You know that bitch did that on purpose," Elena complained, as I started cleaning the area.

"Um, yeah," I reluctantly agreed, "in a game that might have earned her a yellow card. But I like her aggressiveness." I had been trying to get Stacy to be more forceful all season, and honestly hadn't minded what had happened at all. It indicated that the girls were finally starting to develop the harder edge that I had been pushing for.

"Next time, I take her out," Elena huffed.

"I thought you were too tough to let anything like that bother you," I said, as I applied a bandage to the hole in her leg.

Elena didn't respond to my barb. Instead, she took the conversation in a different direction. "Do you know," she almost whispered, "that you're touching me in a place that would get any other guy slapped."

Actually I had been trying not to notice where my hands were. But now that she had brought it up, I became acutely aware of what I was doing. Her knee was raised and her legs were spread to grant me access to the cleat mark. To anyone just passing by, it could easily have looked like I was inappropriately touching her upper thigh. I didn't want respond to her comment, knowing that she was just trying to give me a hard time, but something about her attitude made me want to get in a jab of my own. "That's interesting, because from what I hear, you don't mind having guys put their hands in places like this."

She could have, and should have, been upset by that, but instead she grinned at me. "Ouch, coachie. That's harsh. Don't you think I'm a nice girl?"

"Yeah, you're a real little angel. But you do like your chicos, right?"

"Oh yeah, coachie, I do like the guys, and they like me. By the way, how are you and your little girlfriend getting along?"

I looked at her, and something in the devilish way she was looking at me confirmed my paranoia. I knew exactly what she was talking about before I even asked. I played dumb anyway, hoping that maybe I was wrong. "What are you talking about?"

"C'mon, coachie. I know all about you and Susan. So, are you still banging her, or was it a one-night stand?"

It was a hot day, but I felt a chill run down my spine. My worst fear had come true. Apparently Susan hadn't been able to keep her mouth shut. And if Elena knew, it was like putting it on the six o'clock news. I didn't see any point in trying to deny it, but I had to know the extent of the damage. "How did you ... did Susan... ?"

"Don't panic. I'm the only one that knows, so far. And don't be mad at your little sex toy. She hasn't been going around bragging about getting you in the sack, if that's what you are afraid of. I just kind of figured it out on my own, then tricked that skinny little white girl into admitting it."

"What gave it away?" If Elena had figured it out, there might be others that had also.

"I saw how you guys were acting that weekend at the tournament. It was almost like you were trying very hard not to look at each other, but whenever you did make eye contact, you both would get this stupid little grin on your face for a second. You guys were cool, but I'm pretty good at picking up little things like that. When I found out that you two had been alone in the hotel Thursday night, everything made more sense. But I still wasn't sure, so last week I cornered Susan after practice and just flat out asked her if she had enjoyed having sex with you. She panicked and said, 'Who told you?' That's all I needed to know. And since you haven't tried to deny it either, it must be true, right?"

Damn, I had helped sink my own ship. "So what do you want? How much will it cost me to keep your mouth shut?"

"Coachie, don't be silly. I don't want money from you. I'll keep my mouth shut. But..."

"But, what?"

"Well, I would kind of like to find out what put that smile on Susan's face that weekend. How about spreading a little of your loving my way?"

"Sorry, Elena. I made a mistake with Susan, and I don't intend to make the same mistake again. My days of having sex with my players are over."

"Are you sure? I might not want any money from you, but I still think I can use your little secret to my advantage. It's kind of ... hmmm, what's the word I learned in my business class last semester? Leverage, yeah, that's it. I think I can leverage you right between my legs. So what do you say, coachie, want to try a little Latin lovin'?"

The worst part was that I had to admit, I was interested. Elena wasn't the prettiest girl in the world, but as her dark eyes locked on mine and a wicked grin slowly spread across her face, I felt something stirring inside me; something not entirely nice. Yeah, if I had been seven or eight years younger and she had made that offer, I would have accepted it eagerly. But my conscience was still tender from the bruising it had taken in that hotel room with Susan, and it was screaming "don't, don't" just as loudly as the animalistic side of my brain was saying "yes, yes".

When I didn't answer her immediately, she realized that I was at least thinking about it, and like any good salesperson she went for the kill. "Don't panic, I don't want to start any long-term relationship or anything. I just think a little roll in the hay with Elena would be good for you. It might get that stick out of your ass. And I'm serious, I will start telling other people what I know if I have to. I don't always play nice, you know."

I guess a man with more moral fiber or self-confidence might have taken her up on her dare, and been ready to deny all the innuendoes and rumors that might have arisen, but I wasn't ready to fight that battle. Besides, as I said, the price she was demanding wasn't all that terrible anyway. But this time my lust was combined with anger at being manipulated by that little bitch. After putting up with her crap for several months, and then being blackmailed by her, I was in no mood to have some cute "roll in the hay" with her. I had another picture in mind.

"OK," I sighed, "you win. But, one time only, and you keep your mouth shut."

"Of course, coachie. Hey, do you think you're the first older guy I've been with? My GPA has come up half a point this year, and it's not just because I'm studying more. So, you want to drive me somewhere more private, or do you want to do me right here in the back of your car? It looks like everybody else is gone."

"Get serious," I growled. "I'll let you know where, and when. Just give me a few days."

"OK, but don't take too long. My panties are already damp, and I don't think it's all sweat."


My first idea was to have Elena come to my apartment some evening, have our quickie, and be done with it. But I decided that wasn't such a good idea for a couple of reasons. First, I really didn't want Elena to know where I lived. Second, some of my neighbors were a little nosy. Some of them knew I was coaching a girls' team, and I was afraid that if they saw a teenage girl coming to my place they might get the wrong idea, which, in this case, would be the right idea. I considered doing what she had suggested and just go park with her somewhere and do the dirty deed in the back of my Explorer. But I hadn't grown up in this town, and didn't know where an appropriate place would be. Plus, I was a little paranoid about being caught. That only left one option, the last refuge for cheating spouses and horny men on the make, a cheap no-tell hotel.

We lived in an area where tourism is a major industry, so finding a place was no problem. I picked one far away from where most of the team lived, and told Elena to meet me there at nine o'clock on a Friday night. That was a week after our State Cup qualifying tournament, which we won, thanks in no small part to Elena's spectacular and courageous play in goal. Because of that, she was feeling even cockier than usual when she showed up at the hotel. When I opened the door to let her in, she had that I'm-better-than-everyone grin on her face, the one I had grown to despise. As soon as I closed the door behind her, I started to chip away at her arrogant, over-confident attitude. I was still pissed at myself about being pushed around by a schoolgirl. I glared at her, not daring to crack a smile. I didn't say anything, or make a move toward her. She may have had me by the short hairs and was going to get what she wanted, but I was determined not to make it an enjoyable experience for her if I could help it.

"Aren't you going to kiss me, coachie?"

"I don't think so. We're here to have sex, right? Not to make love, or try to develop a romantic relationship. You want to have sex with me, and that's what's going to happen. So I'm going to treat you like a guy might treat some tramp he picked up in a bar. In fact, if you're good, I might leave an extra twenty on the dresser when I leave". She looked like I had slapped her in the face, much to my pleasure. Chalk one up for the home team.

"Take off your clothes." I barked it, making clear that it was an order, not a request.

'What about you?" she asked, as she stripped off her shirt and started to unclasp her bra.

I ignored her question. I was still determined to make her feel as uncomfortable as I could. Getting into a verbal sparring match with her was not part of that plan. I sat down in the cheap chair next to the bed, and watched quietly as she finished disrobing. Once she was naked, I let my gaze wander slowly over her body, as if I were inspecting a piece of livestock I was considering buying.

"Turn around," I commanded. I couldn't help comparing her to Susan, and the differences were striking. Susan was a greyhound, slender and delicate, with small breasts, a well-defined waist, and sleek hips and legs. Elena was more of a bulldog. Her body was stocky, with no real waistline. She had full, pendulous breasts, with large, dark nipples. My guess was that when she dressed for school, or a trip to the mall, her tops were tight and low-cut, to emphasize that feature of her body. Her legs held no surprise, I had seen her often enough in her soccer gear. Full, almost heavy-looking thighs that led to a thicker patch of black pubic hair than I had somehow expected. I could easily see how Elena would look like her mom by the time she was thirty, and that wasn't a compliment.

I was trying to stay cold, and act disinterested, but it was impossible to deny that having a young girl standing naked a few feet away from me was having an effect. She certainly wasn't ugly, and under better circumstances I might well have found her to be sexually interesting. She wasn't my type, exactly, but I couldn't stop my body from reacting to her nudity. I unzipped my pants, raised my hips, and slid my jeans and shorts down to my ankles without getting up. "Come suck my cock." It was another order, with no hint of 'please' in my tone or attitude. I was determined to play the role of the bad guy.

 
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