How I Met Your Soccer Mom
Copyright© 2025 by The Horse With No Name
Chapter 9: Naughty Games
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 9: Naughty Games - Young Mario saves Ilka, the mom of his dead childhood friend, and Ilka saves Mario. Their lives intertwine.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Ma/ft mt/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual Romantic Fiction Sports Anal Sex Exhibitionism First Masturbation Oral Sex
My birthday would definitely be interesting, so much was clear from the very start. Being surrounded by naked women, and having one of them presented to me on a collapsible massage bench was very exciting. That fact was sort of hard to hide when not wearing anything, but then, nobody seemed to mind.
So my task was to shave Doreen’s nether region, a prospect that excited and scared me at the same time. First and foremost I didn’t want to do any damage. Ilka had whispered in my ear that I should relax, claiming I couldn’t really cause any harm. My second worry involved the fact that I was about to fondle my best friend’s girlfriend’s pussy rather thoroughly by the look of it.
The few times a week I shaved my face, I used foam out of a spray can, but the gel I was given for the purpose required me to rub down the target area rather well. By the time the delicate area between her spread legs was covered in soft foam, some of it actually started to wash off again, as Doreen’s pussy was practically drooling. She had her eyes closed, her face flushed a rather alarming shade of crimson, and she was breathing heavily.
“May I?” Mark asked, and both Doreen an Jogi nodded their approval. That Doreen even had the capacity to answer that question was amazing. If someone had worked my penalty box that thoroughly, I would have been reduced to the cognitive level of a really primitive ape. I knew that for certain, because Ilka had a penchant for early morning blowjobs. I watched on as Mark explained the procedure to me. Then he handed me the lady shave.
It looked like the expensive ones I used to shave my face, but some marketing genius had obviously thought that the fact the things were meant for womenfolk needed to be advertised by making them bright pink. Someone with a little more common sense had invented little vertical strips across the blades that prevented cuts. Surely that invention should have found its way to the male-oriented products too. I had a few cuts to show for it. Oh well, the things that went through my head when trying to shave a girl’s pussy in front of an audience...
Mark had shown me how to spread her open slightly and cover the sensitive insides of her pussy with the index finger of my left hand, while using the other hand to shave left and right of my finger. There was one problem though. The slick nature of the foam made it virtually impossible to keep my protective index finger static, so while I was shaving Doreen’s pussy, I was also diddling it. Confirmation came halfway into the work when she suddenly started to tremble and wailed in the throes of a massive orgasm.
Spontaneous applause erupted, causing me and Doreen to blush, although in her case it was debatable if it wasn’t just the complexion one had when already halfway to the next orgasm again. Knowing that I was in a race against time, I worked more swiftly, which turned out to be a good idea, because when I was done and started to wipe the last remnants of foam away, Doreen shuddered and came again, even noisier than before.
“Take notes,” Doreen told Jogi, still breathing hard as she came down from her second climax. “From now on you’ll shave me twice a week.”
Everyone chuckled when Jogi gave an enthusiastic acknowledgment of his new ‘house chore’.
“Someone needs to help me off this thing,” Doreen said, her giggling being interrupted by her heavy breathing. “I’m afraid my bones have melted.”
And she had not exaggerated either. Jogi and I helped her sit up and she could only stagger out of the tent because we had her arms around our necks, keeping her upright.
We carefully lowered her into one of the chairs around the camp fire.
Regina was worried that the first time Jogi and Doreen had gone outside their sexually monogamous comfort zone could perhaps have backfired, but both of them assured the rest of us that they were fine, actually more than fine if Doreen’s goofy grin was anything to go by. Jogi described it best.
“It’s not something we’ll do all the time, but as something for a special occasion, it’s quite enjoyable. Heck, we’ve only just started and I’ve already learned a new trick.”
That caused a lot of amusement. I meanwhile had quite some praise heaped on me. Apparently everyone had assumed that, because I mainly played with my feet as a footballer, I wasn’t really good with my fingers. Doreen gave us an emphatic vote of confidence which the others answered with a mix of amusement and expectation.
Jogi and I started chatting among ourselves, mostly about football of course, while the others got to know Doreen better. We only joined their conversation when the topic turned to sports. Apparently Mark’s athlete girls had suggested that Doreen should give up on her swimming practice, or more precisely, should extend it to include cycling and running. Competing in the triathlon instead of just swimming made sense. Doreen was very suspicious of drugs. She wouldn’t even take an Aspirin unless her head had already fallen off, so competing in a sport that was riddled with performance enhancing drugs made no sense for her.
Lydia agreed, telling us her story of how she fled to West Germany in 1984, because she was increasingly pressured into participating in a state-run doping scheme. To realize that this woman had a son before I was even born was crazy. To someone like me 1984 sounded like ancient effing history, yet here she was - a woman just four years shy of being three times my age, yet she didn’t look a day older than Ilka, and Ilka’s look already betrayed her real age by at least a decade.
I made another rather obvious observation. Sitting around a camp fire, surrounded by drop-dead gorgeous and naked women, had a rather predictable effect on the male audience. All three of us were painfully hard. That fact had not evaded Doreen’s notice and she suggested that we start the first game, a proposal that was readily accepted with enthusiasm by everyone.
Not long after we had all congregated in the nearby tent, Mark, Jogi and I found ourselves blindfolded and tied to three plastic chairs, ready for a game of Blowjob Bingo. Regina reiterated her disclaimer that ‘everything goes, but nothing must’, and that everyone had the option to put a stop to it if he or she grew uncomfortable with the situation. Granted, I had no idea why the prospect of being blown by eight woman should cause uneasiness, but I had to remind myself that Doreen and Jogi had never had other partners before.
The rules were as simple as they were exciting. The women would take turns blowing us for a minute and we were tasked with guessing who it was. Since Mark knew all of them except Ilka and Doreen, Jogi and I would get two points if we correctly guessed who had just blown us, while Mark would only get one point in that case. The girls meanwhile would have a competition of their own. Whoever managed to make us climax would get five points, and another one if they managed to make us hard again for the next contestant before the allotted minute had elapsed. Brilliant, with eight women at hand we were looking forward to a rather lengthy period of being pleasured.
Just seconds into the first round, I already knew that I had two points in the bag. I would identify Ilka’s technique among hundreds. That was no surprise, because in the early days of our relationship she had tried all kinds of different techniques and then she had blended my three favorite ones into a single technique. Already knowing the answer, I relaxed, in the hope I would also help her get the five points for me nutting down her gullet. That I would stay hard after that was a given. Ilka had always joked that I must have a mild case of Priapism going, because I never went limp after the first blowjob.
Someone who beat Ilka to the punch was whoever was doing Jogi. He had already grunted a few obscenities, so whatever treatment he was subjected to must have been so amazing, he went full caveman after what felt like no more than thirty seconds. Giggles from the other girls were confirmation that at least one of them had just bagged five points.
Well, so was Ilka, because no more than five seconds after Jogi, I couldn’t hold out any longer and I spray-painted her throat. As expected, I stayed hard as Krupp steel.