How NOT to Seduce and Older Man

When plans attack.

The characters, situations and actions in this story are merely figments of an unusual imagination. So unusual, in fact, that the author doesn't actually exist.

NC<18 – No characters under the age of 18 are depicted in this story.

This is a copyrighted original work of erotic fiction. All rights reserved.

His ass is mine!! Or MY ass is going to be HIS!! Or something. Whatever.

I was standing in front of the mirrored closet doors in my room on the afternoon of my eighteenth birthday, checking out my seduction costume. I had been planning this for about a year and a half and today was the DAY!! YAY!!

I started "developing" when I was about twelve but never got really big. But I still got a lot of attention from boys. It was really hard getting them to leave me alone for a while until I decided that if I adopted a "tomboy" attitude, they might possibly leave me alone. It settled the boys down, but started to attract some of the girls and caused others to not want to hang around me.

Which caused me some issues. As I got older, I began to have dreams and fantasies, but I couldn't get anyone interested in me. I had pigeonholed myself into a corner. The guys thought I was gay, the gay girls thought I was straight, and the straight girls thought I was gay.

Basically, I was sexually active – VERY sexually active – just without a partner to practice with.

I had tried all the things around the house that most girls try while exploring themselves and their sexuality. Fingers, toothbrush, electric toothbrush, water flosser, massaging shower head, candles, carrots, cucumbers, corn-on-the-cob, hairbrush handles, bottles, anything that occurred to me that I could stuff up myself while masturbating to the fantasy of the quarterback of the football team suddenly realizing how hot I was and asking me out and it going too far.

I occasionally even had the fantasy of it being the quarterback of the opposing team who won a bet and I was delivered up to him to be used as he saw fit – and he did.

You know, just normal high school girl fantasies.

Then I got my driver's license and got forced by my Mom to drive my little brother to his sports practice. I argued, of course, but didn't have a hope of getting out of it. She knew I had no friends and so had nothing going on. Even so, I dragged my feet and complained the whole time he was getting his crap together and getting it in the car.

And I complained all the way to the park.

But I quit complaining when I saw his coach. He was standing there in the normal coaches outfit, whistle on a cord around his neck and I had no idea what it was about him that made me feel like that, but something did!

It could have been the combination of the short haircut and the beard. It could have been his barrel chest – you know, I had read that description before, but didn't really realize what it meant until I saw that man. It could have been the firmness of his legs and ass. Didn't know, didn't care.

From then on, Mom didn't have to ask me to take my brother to practice any more. In fact, there were a few times I had actually argued with her when she wanted to take him because she needed the car. Those days I found a reason to go with him to practice.

Whether I drove or not, I always sat on the bleachers as close as I could get to where the coach was. I would sit and pretend to read my book, all the while watching this fine piece of man walking, stalking, strutting around, occasionally growling or shouting instructions to his team.

The first time I saw him swat one of his players on the ass to send him into the practice game I think I actually jumped off the bleacher bench a little.

Over the next year and a half, I didn't just watch him, I studied him. I listened to him before, during and after practice.

I learned he was coaching 'cuz his son was on the team.

I also learned he was divorced and so he was free for me to go after.

I watched how he interacted with his players. Every pat on the shoulder, ruffle of hair or swat on their asses I could feel on myself – or at least imagined I did.

I decided he was going to be the one to take my virginity. I just had to wait a while.

And that long, long wait was now over.

I was legal as of today and it was GOING to happen.

I had planned this outfit with care, just the right amount of virginal sluttiness – if that makes sense.

White sneakers with white socks folded down, a pair of tight denim short shorts, and a white t-shirt.

A TIGHT, white, low-cut t-shirt stretched across a very sheer bra that was almost unnecessary - I wasn't going to be able to get out of the house without one - was stretched across my firm B-cup titties.

I love my titties. They may not be big, but they are firm and my nipples point to the ceiling when I walk around my room topless. Oh, and my nipples are really big. I know, 'cuz I've compared them with the other girls in the showers at school.

Me? Naturally blond hair, not dyed. Brown eyes. I had been told often enough the last four years or so that I looked like that old actress that was on TV what, a decade ago? I HATED that!! I was ME, not somebody else, and I deliberately kept my hair cut some way other than her "famous" cut.

That is, until I overheard him make the comment about two weeks ago that he had seen hjer in a recent movie and she was still hot and that if she showed up and offered herself, he'd just HAVE to take her up on the offer.

I went out that afternoon and got my hair cut. And he did a double-take when he saw me walk up. YESSSSSS!!

Then I went and searched the show on the internet and did a quick comparison. Her titties might have been just a little bigger that mine, but my nipples were definitely bigger. GO ME!!

I drove my brother to his practice and then drove the car about half-way back to our house before walking back and taking my normal place on the bleachers and settled in to wait. I had already made plans for my brother to spend the night at one of his friends' houses and my mom was working late.

So all I had to do was seduce this guy and get him to drive me back to our house. Then go back and get the car later in time to pick my mom up from work.

I waited through that practice. I tried to be patient, but it was difficult. I found myself rocking back and forth on the bleachers, getting my thighs to rub together and turning me on.

It was finally over and I tried to be patient some more.

I watched over the top of my book as he and his son walked to their car. He had actually started the car and begun to back up and I thought it wasn't going to work. Then he pulled back into the parking space and walked over to the bleachers.

"You know practice is over, right?" His voice that close sent shivers through my body. It was the first time he had ever spoken directly to me.

I looked up, then around, pretending to be surprised that practice was over. "Oh, thanks. I didn't realize that. I was just so lost in my book," I said as I lowered it away from my chest so he could see my tight little tits.

YES!! I knew it had worked when I saw his eyes widen and heard him suck in his breath.

"Where's your brother?"

"Spending the night with his friend."

"So why are you still here?"

"One of my friends was supposed to swing by and pick me up. But she was supposed to be here about half-way through the practice."

"You need to call her?" he asked.

"I forgot my cell phone at home."

"You can use mine if you want."

I took his phone from him, making sure to brush the back of his hand with my fingers as I did. I pretended to start to dial, then held it away from me and looked at it blankly.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know her number. That's what speed-dial is for."

"You do know your mom's phone number, though, right?"

"Well sure! But she's at work and wouldn't be able to come get me. I don't suppose you could give me a ride, could you?"

"Sure. C'mon. Where do you live?"

I told him and he paused. "You mind if we drop my son off first? I've got to get him to his music practice, then I can run you over there."

YES!! YES!! YES!!! It was working. I KNEW his son had practice today, which is why I had lucked out that it fell on my birthday.

I got in the back seat of his SUV behind his son and buckled up. I studied him from behind and from even more closely than I had ever been able to do before.

We dropped off his son, well, HE dropped off his son. I sat in the back waited as patiently as could while slowly drifting my fingertips up and down the sensitive insides of my thighs. Once his son was out of the SUV I asked if he minded if I hopped up front.

He growled, "Come on up."

I squeezed through the space between the front seats, making sure to twist so my nipples grazed his shoulder, then twisted to slide my ass across his shoulder as well, then slid over and dropped into the other seat, making sure to drop my ass onto the seat hard enough to make my little titties bounce. And yeah, he noticed.

"You mind if I turn the A/C up a little? It was really hot out there today."

He said, "Go ahead," and I turned it up full, then pointed both vents on my side of the dashboard at my nipples, which hardened even more than they had been before.

I know he noticed because he swerved a little and I heard him mutter something to himself.

OK, now I need to let him know that I find him attractive. Just say it casually and maturely so he doesn't think you're just a kid with a crush.

"You're in pretty good shape for an old guy."

"Well, gosh! Thanks," he said with barely disguised sarcasm.

"No, no! That's not what I meant." I could feel the blush creeping up my face.

"Well. What did you mean then?"

His ABS! Say something about his abs. He's in shape, they have to be fantastic though I've never seen him with a shirt off, and I've heard all guys love to hear about how they have a six-pack.

"I meant that the rest of the coaches out here are really fat and your belly only hangs over your belt a little bit."

"Gosh, that makes me feel so much better."

NO!! FUCK!! What keeps coming out of my mouth?

"No, I mean you're in better shape than they are, even though you're so much older than most of them."

"Ah. So back to 'good shape for an old guy' huh?"

OK, this isn't going the way I had planned. But it's cool. I can still recover it. Quit talking about his body and talk about his looks! His HAIR! Talk about his hair. You know you love the way it falls across his forehead! Go with that.

"You've got really nice hair. I love the way the long bit curls across your forehead like that. And with it cut as short as it is, you almost don't notice that little bald spot."

Shit!! No!! THAT didn't come out right either. His EYES!! His eyes are so expressive and beautiful. And the way his upper lids are, what's the word, hooded? I think they call that "bedroom eyes". Yes!! Talk about his eyes.

"Your eyes are really pretty. I like the way they're so puffy all the time."

He's smiling at me. Unfortunately, that's not an "I want to fuck you" smile, that's a "what the fuck is wrong with you" smile. CRAP!!

"You have a really nice smile. I think it's neat the way your beard and moustache mostly cover up your teeth since they're so jacked up."

His smile disappeared.

FUCK!! OK, girl, stop talking about his face, 'cuz you are seriously fucking this UP! Maybe go back to talking about his body? He's got a really nice ass. It looks so firm. Tell him how firm his ass is!!

"You have a really nice ass, too. It's not nearly as saggy as some of the other coaches."

SHIT!! We're parked outside my house already! I have GOT to let him know what he does to me. What's that the girls always say in the stories? YES!! Tell him how excited you are! Tell him your pussy is getting wet since you're so excited!

"I just wet my pants!!"

FUCK!! SHIT!! What is WRONG with my fucking MOUTH!?

"Wow! Well, good thing we're at your house. You should get inside and take a shower."

YES!! Get him to come inside and I can still recover this mess.

I turned sideways in my seat so my erect nipples were pointing at his eyes again and said, "Would you like to come in for a drink?"

"Nah, I'm good, thanks."

Well, SHIT!! I can still convince him to come inside, I just need to let my body do the talking instead of my fucking traitor mouth.

I made a show of fumbling with my seatbelt with one hand as I used the other to roll the window on my door down.

I got out of his SUV and stepped up onto the sidewalk, then closed the door and yanked my t-shirt down so the neckline slid below my bra. Then I turned around and leaned into the open window.

That got him! His eyes were wide and his jaw had actually dropped, just like they say.

"Are you sure you sure you don't want to come in?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

OK, you can do this, just strut like the models do. One foot across in front of the other so your hips really wiggle.

Halfway to the steps and he hasn't driven off. OK!! Look over your shoulder and lick your lips. You can still pull this out!

YES!! His eyes are still wide and his mouth is still open. Now, lick, your, lip... OOWWWWWW!! DAMN!! How the FUCK could I trip on a completely fucking FLAT fucking sidewalk!

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

Was that a door slam? Is he coming over here? NOOO!!!

Wait, YESSS. He IS coming over here!!"

OH MY GOSH!! His HAND is on my fucking shoulder!! It feels so good.

Now his other hand is on my leg!! Yes!!

What was that? My knees are bleeding?

Play it up, play it up.

"OW. My knees are bleeding!"

"Yeah, I know, I just told you that."

"They hurt so bad. Can you carry me into the house?"

"I guess."

OOOOHHHHH!!!!!! He's picking me up!! I LOVE the feel of his big strong arm behind my back. And I can feel the muscles moving under the skin on his back. Turn into him and push your nipple into his chest. There. He twitched! He HAD to have noticed that. Oooooooohhhh shiiiiiiiiiit!. I can feel his voice rumbling through his chest straight into my fucking nipple! His voice. Oh, what did he say?

"Sorry, what did you say?

"I asked if you had keys to the door?"

"Oh, yeah, they're right here in my pocket."

Get the keys, get the keys, get the fucking KEYS, bitch! Got to get him inside – in more ways than one. Pull the stupid cell phone out so you reach the DAMN KEYS...

"I thought you said you forgot your cell phone at home?"

"Huh? What?"

"Your cell phone. You told me earlier you left your cell phone at home."

"I did."

"It's right there in your hand."

SHIT!!

"Oh. Yeah."

OK, keys in lock, turn knob, open door. Cool!! Didn't screw that up!

"Can you carry me up the stairs to my bedroom? My knees hurt so bad I don't think I could walk up the stairs on my own."

"Yeah, I can do that, I guess."

Pull it together girl, you almost fucked this up earlier, but you can still pull it out of your ass. OH FUCK!! Did I just fucking FART??!!

"Wow!! I forgot just how much these stairs make noise. Wow, they are making noises!!"

"That's my knees."

I jumped out of his arms and said, "I don't want you to hurt your knees!"

"I thought yours were too sore to climb these stairs?"

"Don't you want to come to my bedroom?" Bat your eyes!!

"I don't think that's a good idea little girl."

"I'm not a little girl. Today's my eighteenth birthday. I'm legal today."

"That whole 'I'm not a little girl' thing might have been more convincing if you hadn't stomped your foot when you said it. And by the way, I'm old enough to be your father!"

"Oh, no, you're actually three years older than my Dad! Wait!! Where are you going? Come back!! Don't you want to touch my hoohoo?"

Hoohoo? What the FUCK?? Way to come across like an adult!!

"Come back!! Don't you want me to suck your weiner!!"

"Girl, you are bat-shit crazy if you think I'm getting involved in any way with someone as weird and immature as you! Especially not one that plays fucking games like this."

Get up!! Get up!! Go after him!! Faster! He's out the door already! Faster! Noooo.

I was crying and lying on the floor at the foot of the stairs when I heard the door open.

He came back!! Yay!!

What's Mom doing home so early? Why's she pissed at me? Pick her up from work? What time is it? Why is she asking me why the car isn't here? Oh, shit. After all this, I still have to walk half way to the park and get the car.

Fuck!

My!

Fucking!

Life!!