Preparing for the DraftbyTV_News_Babe©
It seems like such a long time ago that my son Chad was in youth football, asking me after every game why Tony always got to be quarterback. I kept being positive and told Chad that if he practiced real hard the coach would give him a chance someday. However, even my twelve year old son probably suspected that as long as Tony was the coach's son, Tony would always be the quarterback.
Chad's thirty four year old mother—that's me—had other plans. As a divorced, single Mom, I knew how to stand up for myself and my son. The other parents saw me as a generally reserved, introverted woman who never missed her turn to provide snacks. I'm sure most of the fathers assumed, from my quiet behavior on the sidelines, that I just didn't care. Nothing could have been farther from the truth.
As the season progressed, I got more and more perturbed with Tony's father, a bulky, arrogant loudmouth named Mike. Since he was destined to never coach the Packers, he took it out on every youth football team he was ever associated with. The only player exempt from ridicule was Tony, of course.
I have to admit that sitting back and watching some of the fathers nearly come to blows with Mike was truly entertaining. But it wasn't worth the torment he put the kids through and as I watched Chad get more and more disinterested in a game he really loved, I decided to act.
I didn't have a great knowledge of football. I didn't think I had the most talented son. But I had a weapon. I was a very attractive, young, blonde woman. I had something all those irate fathers didn't have. I had a figure to die for, a face made for TV news, and a desire for my son to get a shot at being quarterback.
Mike had shown an interest in me from the first day of practice. At least, he did when his wife wasn't around. I only talked to him a couple of times, and never for very long, so I'm sure it pleased him to no end when I stayed late after practice one morning and approached Mike when all the other parents and kids had left.
Chad and Tony were out on the field playing together.
"Hi, Mike," I said. "Do you have a moment?"
"Of course, Mrs. Dunn."
"Please call me Charlotte."
"OK," Mike said with a sordid grin. "What's up?"
"I know you must get asked this a lot. But I wanted to know, from you, what your plans were for letting the kids play other positions during the season," I said with as innocent a voice as I could muster.
I'm used to not always having a man's full attention when I begin talking to them. I gave Mike's eyes an opportunity to come back up to my face about the same time he was beginning to formulate a response to my question.
"Well, Charlotte. Every kid on my team always has a chance to play any position he wants...as long as he can prove to me he can do it," Mike said.
"Well, now," he stammered before coughing and pausing to collect a thought. "Quarterback's a difficult position, Charlotte. You see, a quarterback has to be able to call the plays, run, pass...and it's dangerous. He's liable to get...."
"Who else have you let practice at quarterback besides Tony?" I interrupted.
"Well, uh, nobody. Because, you see, Tony was quarterback last year and, um, he's the best at that position we've got."
"How do you know that?"
It was warm out, but most of the sweat forming on Mike's forehead wasn't from the heat alone. I didn't give him a chance to come up with another lame reply.
"Mike, I have a suggestion for you," I said.
I waited for him to acknowledge me.
"I suggest you let Chad play quarterback in one practice and then one half of the game after that," I said.
He had the look of somebody who had just been told he had a terminal illness.
"Well, Charlotte. You see, I don't know if just one practice will be enough for Chad to get the plays down in order to...."
"You don't think he's smart enough, Mike?"
"No. No. It's not that. It's just, well, you know...."
"OK, Mike," I said calmly. "Here's the deal. Can you have Brenda take Tony home with her after practice next week? Tell her you have an errand to do afterwards. Anything. Make something up."
"Um, yeah. Sure. I can do that."
"Good. Let Chad be quarterback. Then we'll talk again after practice. Just you and me. In private."
I was leaning forward, nearly whispering. The park where the kids practiced was very isolated and surrounded by woods, especially the parking lot. I knew what I had planned for us, even if the not-too-bright Mike was slow in comprehending.
Then I'm pretty sure I saw the bulb light up behind Mike's eyes.
"Yeah. OK, Charlotte. I can do that," he said with a nervous smirk. "We'll talk about it."
I smiled, winked, and called for Chad.
It wasn't uncommon for Chad to spend time at a friend's house on a Saturday. One set of parents, in particular, were really good at agreeing to have him over to keep their only son occupied for a few hours. That boy was on Chad's football team and the parents gladly accepted my offer on Wednesday to have Chad leave practice with them on Saturday.
The last obstacle was out of the way.
Luckily, Saturday morning was even warmer than the week before because I chose to wear my tightest tank top and a skirt I never would have worn before my divorce. I set up my lawn chair and sat back to watch Chad's first day at quarterback.
I wasn't sure who was happier: Chad at quarterback or Mike when I again and again timed the crossing and uncrossing of my legs to his looking over at the sideline.
Chad did great. I was actually pleasantly surprised at his skill and several parents praised him during time outs. Only two people asked me, both in jest, how I managed to get Mike to agree to let Chad play instead of Tony. I just smiled and shrugged.
Finally, the practice was over and parents and kids slowly packed up and left. I told Chad how proud I was of him and told him to have a good time at Billy's. I watched him leave and then lingered while the last set of parents left and just Mike and I were left at the field.
"Can I carry that chair for you, Charlotte?" Mike asked.
We walked together to the parking lot and we put the folding chair in my trunk. Mike put the team's equipment in his own car.
"Get in," I told Mike, holding the passenger door of my car open. "I want to talk to you."
As he climbed in, I walked around to the driver's side. Between my tank top and my skirt, he seemed totally lost on what to watch as I got in. He attempted both while I settled into the seat and turned on the engine to get some cool air flowing.
I looked over at him.
"Thanks for letting Chad play. He seemed really happy," I said with a grin.
"He did great, Charlotte. I mean, really good."
He seemed sincere. But it didn't matter at that point.
"Will you let him play in the game coming up?"
Mike nodded. "Of course. It will be good to let Tony play somewhere else where he can help the team and...."
As Mike spoke, I leaned over the center console, put my hand on the side of Mike's face, and pulled it towards me. I put my lips on his. It was a short, innocent kiss.
"And after that?" I asked.
"Well, um, we'll have to see how he does now, won't we? And maybe...."
I took one of his hands and pulled it by the wrist up to my chest. I placed it on the side of my breast, on the edge of my tank top. At the same time, I started another kiss. This one was much longer; much more intense. About the time our tongues met, Mike's hand began massaging my tit. When he hit my nipple, I moaned. He slid fingers inside the front of my top and onto my other tit. I slid a hand onto his crotch, easily finding a cock that seemed to be getting harder by the second.
For a couple of minutes I stroked him through his pants and he groped my tits while we kissed.
"And after that?" I asked again.
"I don't have a problem with it."
I unbuttoned his shorts and pulled down the zipper. I let my hand glide over his underwear, pressing harder and harder on his erection. My head slid down his body and Mike leaned back. I stopped at his sizable stomach and reached inside his underwear to wrap my fingers around his now raging hard on.
I could feel the blood surging through his cock while I used the other hand to pull down his underwear. The head was huge and bright pink. I leaned down a little more and kissed the very tip. Mike muttered 'Oh yes' and I licked the head of his cock very lightly.
I slid my hand down to his balls and let my tongue and lips do the work on his cock. At first, I only skimmed my tongue up and down the shaft, teasing him with my lips but never taking him into my mouth. Mike's left hand reached out for my ass, landing on the edge of my skirt and quickly finding the bare skin of my thigh. He fumbled about until getting his fingers onto my tiny silk panties, pushing them aside to grasp my cheek.
Before I finished him off, I wanted to get a final assurance.
"So Chad can be the quarterback for the remainder of the season?"
My tongue was stabbing at the underside of the tip of his cock and Mike's lower body was quivering.
With that, I took the entire length of his cock in my mouth and clamped my lips down on it. I instantly began to bob my head up and down, applying as much pressure as I could with my tongue and mouth. I could already taste Mike's precum and thought to myself, 'This won't take long.'
His hand was inside my panties, rubbing my pussy and clit the best he could, never knowing that I could care less if he made me cum. In fact, I knew he wouldn't. This was all about him and Chad.
His groans grew louder and more frequent. He was driving his cock up into my mouth faster and faster. Mike's hand began to lose some interest in my pussy the closer he came to an orgasm, although he did manage to stick a finger inside my wet pussy. Whatever. He was about to cum.
"Yes, Charlotte. Yes! Almost...there," he moaned.
I was like a machine, intent on sucking every drop out of him.
"Ahhhhhhhhhh fuck! Yes! Yes!"
His ass rose from the seat; he thrust his cock deeper; and, he cried out one last time.
The first shot of cum hit the back of my throat, and I had to swallow fast to accept a long series of spurts. A few drops escaped onto the sides of my mouth, but I never took my lips from him and I did, indeed, suck him dry.
With his hand removed from my ass, I scooted back into the driver's seat and smiled.
"I think we have a deal, Mike."
Chad's progress over the next five years was remarkable, once he was given the opportunity. Also, he sprouted up to six feet, two inches tall and was at one hundred eighty five pounds the summer before his junior year in high school. His dedication in the weight room and overall fitness certainly caught the eyes of the coaching staff.
It was around this time that friends began to talk to me about the possibility of Chad getting an athletic scholarship to college. I was still single and planned on staying that way for a while, so any help I could get in paying his way through college would be much appreciated. But what were the chances of a back-up high school quarterback being recruited by any big schools?
Chad's coach, John, was a guy I'd known for more than ten years. He and I first met as volunteers for a local charity. We were about the same age and seemed to have similar interests, but we were both married at the time and the friendship never became more than that.
It could have been more: I always thought John was very good looking and had a great body. Unfortunately, his wife was a babe and I probably wouldn't have had a shot anyway. Besides, my TV news career was blossoming and it was not easy for me to discreetly see anybody, in public or otherwise.
So, when Chad came home from the first summer football practice and told me it looked like he might have to change to wide receiver to get a starting job, my thoughts turned to John and whether or not our previous friendship might still be beneficial.
I decided to pay him a visit.
I guess I'm a little more finicky than most women when it comes to what I wear because of my TV job. I always want to look nice, but I've never had a great need to 'stand out' in the crowd. I'm fine with who I am and how I look. But my mission to see John required extra thought in how to dress.
I wasn't about to walk into his office, located next to the school's gym, in a fancy dress. Even a summer dress might be a little much. So I went with a casual theme: jogging shorts that I almost never wore, but did a nice job of accentuating my butt, and a V-neck t-shirt that, without a bra, was almost cruel and unusual punishment to a man.
There was also a chance John wouldn't be there and in case I ran into anybody else, I didn't want to look too out of place. The parking lot only had two other cars besides my own when I arrived, and I prayed one was John's.
I was very familiar with the school layout, both from my reporting job and because of Chad. I walked around to the gym entrance and pulled on the door, half expecting it to be locked. It opened and I quietly entered, holding the door until it closed so as to limit the noise. I wore sandals and crept softly down the long hallway without hearing any other sound. I rounded the corner and saw John's office. The door was open and a light was on. My heart raced faster.
I remembered that John's office connected to the locker room, so I half expected him not to be there. I peeked around the corner and was delighted to see him leaning back in his chair watching a video of practice.
"Hi, John," I said.
He jumped a little at the sound of my voice, then quickly gathered himself and said, "Oh. Hi, Charlotte."
John stopped the video and laid a remote control on his desk, lurching forward in his chair.
"If this is a bad time...," I began to say.
"No. No. Not at all. C'mon in," he replied. "Have a seat."
I moved to an old, decrepit office chair in the corner of his small space and sat down.
"I hope I'm not interrupting you."
He shook his head. "Of course not. It's always great to see you...now that you're a big star."
I blushed. "Hardly. This market's not big enough to make anybody a star."
"So when ARE you moving to New York?"
"Not in this lifetime," I said dryly. "No desire to, anyway. I'm fine here."
It had been since last football season that I'd been this close to John and, if anything, he was even better looking with each year. I was sure I hadn't aged as well, even when I had makeup on. So my original intent of working on Chad's behalf was turning into nearly as much a personal objective. Just how far would John let it go?
"So what can I do for you?"
His question brought me back to reality. "Oh, well. I guess, John, I wanted to talk to you about Chad."
"Great kid," John exclaimed. "He's got a lot of talent, too."
"That's part of why I'm here," I said, fidgeting in my chair. "I wondered if you had a definite plan on how you were going to use him."
I saw John's expression change to one of disappointment. At least, that's how I interpreted it. So I quickly added, "If that's something you prefer not to discuss with a parent, I completely understand."
He smiled. "Charlotte, I prefer not to discuss it with MOST fathers. They have unrealistic expectations based on what they perceive to be incredible talents in their sons...which the kids never have."
"For some reason, I suspect you don't fall into that category," he said.
"Yeah. I'm not a father."
He laughed so loud I knew whoever else was in the school heard him.
"Oh, trust me. I know that."
I forgave the quick scan of my body he gave after that remark.
"He's concerned he'll have to play wide receiver," I said. "What do you think?"
John leaned forward and put his elbows on his desk. "He'd make a good one."
"He really wants to play quarterback."
John stared across the desk at me, beginning to understand he was now in negotiations.
"He's a junior, Charlotte. I have an experienced senior at quarterback right now."
John chuckled, and then stifled it in deference to me.
"He's an excellent back-up to have. Next year he'll probably start," John said.
"If he started this year, think how much better he'd be next year."
John grinned and leaned back, putting both hands behind his head. My pulse was off the chart from the excitement of the debate and the sight of this beautiful man. Neither of us looked away from the other during a long pause.
"You make a strong case, Charlotte. Way better than most dads."
I smiled. "I can make a case no dad could ever make, John."
This time I was the one leaning forward.
"What's that?" he asked.
I stood up and walked over to the door leading to the locker room. I locked it. The blinds were already pulled completely shut. I walked around and closed the other door, also locking it. John followed every move I made.
I went straight to his chair, straddled John's legs, and sat down on his knees. He adjusted how he sat to comfortably steady both of us.
"No dad can offer this," I said. "Touch me, John."
I grinned when he placed his hands on my bare legs and only slightly ran his fingers over my skin.
"No, John. Touch me."
His hands moved higher, barely under my shorts. I looked down with approval and then back to his face. I felt his fingers going higher, farther inside my shorts. Then they began to slide down to the inside of my thighs. I wasn't going to move until he hit something good.
Finally, the edges of my panties were lifted and he was inches away from my throbbing pussy.
I tilted forward and kissed him. His hands stopped during the kiss and resumed immediately afterward. He had to be feeling the heat by now. That's when I leaned my chest toward his face, allowing the opening in the t-shirt to linger just in front of his mouth. I felt a single finger reach the edge of my pussy.
I used one hand to pull the shirt aside and expose nearly my entire right breast. John put his lips on it and kissed it, followed by a delicate swipe of his tongue across the skin.
"Put your hands on them, John. Inside my shirt."
If he was disappointed in moving his hands from inside my shorts, he didn't show it. They calmly rose up my body until they barely touched the undersides of my tits. John looked at me and then covered both tits with his palms.
"Squeeze them, please. Play with the nipples until they're hard."
He obeyed perfectly. During the entire process I never once touched his cock. I had a plan and he was allowing me to follow it. Soon, he was massaging and kneading my tits roughly as I moaned with delight. He knew exactly how to pull and roll my nipples for maximum effect. I could feel my pussy getting wetter and wetter by the second.
He never said a word as I leisurely pulled the t-shirt over my head and laid it on the desk. I never had to tell him to put the tits in his mouth. He sucked on them for several minutes while we sat in silence, except for my sighs and occasional urgings for more.
When his hands weren't pushing my tits up, they were inside my shorts on my ass. I moved wherever and whenever I needed to to give him access. When I thought he was almost ready to rip my shorts off, I made my final move.
I finally reached down to his crotch and took his huge cock in my hand, easily finding it through his shorts. I pulled on it a few times while he frantically sucked on my tits.
"Let Chad play quarterback," I said between moans.
I wasn't sure he would answer me. At last he said, 'First game,' and returned to my tits.
"Then we'll renegotiate?" I gasped.
Neither of us came in John's office. Well, I'm not sure what he did after I left. I can only say with certainty that I was in my garage before I let myself cum an embarrassing number of times with a flurry of strokes inside my shorts.