First and Tim Ch. 01

The last game of the season is always bittersweet. Whether the season is over before the playoffs, or the team takes the Lombardi Trophy, it's an ending. There isn't a player in the league who doesn't want to taste that big victory. The lure of that Super Bowl ring is what keeps many players out there pushing their limits past their prime.

That's where a good trainer comes in. They can help a player stay in shape, stay focused, and stay well. The players have to put their egos aside and do everything the trainer tells them to do. This is where many players fail. They don't want to be ordered around by anyone. Especially a woman.

My very first trainer's job was at a small Midwestern college. I spent weeks trying to decide what to wear to my first day on the job. It was described as a "get to know you meeting" so I settled on a smart navy skirt and matching sleeveless sweater. The v-neck dipped just low enough to hint at the cleavage of my 36D breasts. The skirt and sweater were the first items of clothing I had ever had tailored to fit, and my curves were on subtle display. I wore black pumps to show off my legs and add another couple of inches to my 5' 10" frame. I had let my hair grow out some over the last few months but it was still too short to do much with, so I just gave it a spritz of hair spray and wore it a little messy. I kissed on a little lipstick and grabbed my bag.

I felt feminine, professional, and excited when I left my apartment for that first day. I wasn't prepared for the reception I received when I walked into the athletic auditorium. I walked to the tables set up for staff while the players whistled and shouted comments about my physique and attire. The head coach frowned at me.

"Perhaps we should have given you a suggestion on what to wear?" Coach West said. "This is a trainer's job, after all."

I stammered an apology as I felt myself blushing furiously. I had not expected the team to be present for our first meeting. I had my sensible khakis and polo shirts for work all ready. I felt immature and unprepared. I should have tried to find out more about this first meeting before just showing up. Lesson learned.

After that day, the lessons were much easier. I was well prepared for the job and worked my way up to head trainer within five years. The pay was not fantastic, but I loved my work. I loved the people I met and the excitement of the players. I had a few casual romances, but nothing that took my heart. I had not met a man who could make my passion for football second to my passion for him. At least that was what my last lover had said to me.

"You want a whole team, Jamie," he had said as he gathered his things from my closet. "One man will never be enough for you."

Maybe he was right, I had thought at the time. Most of my relationships had ended on a similar note. I was happiest being surrounded by strong, appreciative men. Once I narrowed it down to just one man in my life, that's when the bickering started.

"I love football too, babe, but can't we do something besides watch the games today?" was usually the first sign it was over.

Sure, I could get a man to laugh when I suggested naked football watching parties, but that only lasted awhile. Nudity and football are not a good mix. Somebody usually wants to watch the game while the other person wants to mess around. Get caught one time looking at the TV while you're giving a blow job and see what happens. Eventually, somebody loses their temper, and the next thing you know everybody is wearing way too much clothing. Party over.

My next job was at a decent sized NCAA school. This was in following with my plan. If I could make it five years here, I would have the experience needed to apply for a job in the NFL. I started doing more one on one training and taking some classes in sports psychology to prepare for the big league. I knew I would have to work extra hard to make it, and I wasn't in the mood for more dating fiascoes. I spent more nights alone than not. Some decent erotica and a battery operated toy could make me forget my loneliness for a while. Does anyone get much more than that from a real relationship? I never have.

Skip forward through five years of professional growth and education. I didn't feel any older than I had when I had joined this organization, but I felt prepared. When the letter came from Denver I was torn. I knew I was ready for the pros. But Denver? First and foremost, I'm a Steeler's fan. Also, I'm not into skiing. I've lived in the lowlands all my life; will I even be able to breathe there? I know I can't turn down the interview, though. Even if I don't get the job, I have to respond to the offer. It could be my ticket in. I've never been turned down for a job when I applied. I called the number on the letter and arranged my interviews.

The next thing I did was call my friend Tara and ask if she would be free to accompany me to Denver the following week. She is a professor of psychology and helped me with that part of my education. Most people would guess her to be in her early 20's because of her size and looks. Her just 5' height makes her look perpetually young. She has the only blue eyes I've ever seen that actually sparkle, too. Her looks cause her more trouble with men than one would imagine. Blond, blue-eyed, curvy-delicious, men think she's an easy mark. I can tell you, she isn't at all easy. She and I have shared a few nights of "friendly girl snuggles" as we call them. Sometimes, there's nothing more comforting than a soft pillowy breast. I understand how men find them so incredible, because I do, too. Tara's warm embrace and soft flesh have helped me get through a few lonely nights. If I could fall in love with a woman, she would be the one. But I love men. I just haven't found the right one yet.

Tara and I run through practice interview questions on the flight. It's full and the lady sitting in the aisle seat doesn't seem to be appreciating our chatter. Tara buys a set of headphones from the flight attendant and hands them to our row mate with a smile. She's lucky we have things to discuss, or we would probably be kissing and groping each other instead. There are no head phones you can buy to block that out. The Jesus fish on her lapel tells me she would be more than dismayed by that. I don't really want to bring down any bad karma, either. I'm finding myself wanting this job a little more with every practice question.

Denver is proud of their NFL team, as evidenced by the posters and signs along the walls of the terminal. I don't know if I could get used to all the blue and orange. I'm waiting for my bag at the carousel when I look up and see a poster of Tim Tebow. Of course I am familiar with him; the sweet young man who can summon miracles. He sure did get one over on my Steelers in the wildcard game. It's hard to be too mad, though, looking into those blue eyes of his. Tara catches me staring and pokes me in the ribs.

"He's way too nice a guy for you, Jamie!" she teases. "Besides, isn't he a little young, too?"

"I can look, can't I?" I retort.

I look back at those eyes. Color probably enhanced. But it isn't the color that has drawn me. There's an intensity to that stare I can't describe. I am embarrassed to find myself so attracted to this guy. He's not my type by every measure I can imagine. Young, ultra clean cut and probably just a nice guy. I like someone with a little bit of a dark side. Someone who wouldn't be shocked if I wanted to give him a blow job on the way home from a football game. Trainers aren't supposed to fraternize with players, anyway. I have never broken that rule. I don't plan to start now. Hell, I haven't even interviewed for the job!

"Hey, you, Jamie!" I hear Tara call my name. "There went your bag!"

I snap back to reality and start looking for my bag on the luggage carousel. Maybe the thin air is getting to me already.

The hotel room is spacious and has a beautiful view of the mountains. Tara walks across the floor and opens the curtains so we can enjoy the scenery. The sight of the snow capped mountains makes me shiver involuntarily. Tara hugs me close and asks if I'm cold.

"I am. Let's get warm," I hug her back, pull her close, feel her breath on my neck.

Something about being in a hotel room always turns me on. I'm pretty sure that's common. I know Tara and I have the same opinion. She buries her face in my cleavage while I start to unbutton my blouse. By the time we're both naked clothes are all over the room. We fall into the crisp clean sheets and roll around like teenagers. We kiss and lick, snuggle and tickle. She knows how sensitive my nipples are and laughs when I cry out at the sensation of her teeth clamping down on the soft brown flesh. I use my size and strength advantage to roll her over and pin her.

"Let me eat your pussy Jamie, please?" Tara says in a meek voice, but her wicked smile belies her true feelings.

She isn't meek. She eats pussy like a pro. I love being on my knees over her face. I love to feel her tongue probing me, her lips puckered around my swollen clit. She uses her teeth on my outer lips until I am grabbing her hair and pulling her face as close to me as I can get her. Then she flattens her tongue and licks me from clit to ass, over and over until I climax. I try to pull away but she's got my by the ass cheeks, and she's got a hell of a grip. She gives my clit a nibble then lets me go. I fall down beside her and pull her over on top of me so I can kiss her, and enjoy my pussy juice that is smeared all over her face. She's grinding her hot wet box on my thigh and my mouth is watering for a taste of her now.

"Bring that sweet pussy to me," I say as I pull her into sitting position over me.

When Tara's neatly trimmed pussy is right over my mouth, I blow on it, lightly. Her clit is a big pink bud that pops out between her labia when she is turned on. I lick it softly, not touching her anywhere else, just the tip of my tongue on the tip of her clit. I lick in a very small circle, listening to her breath getting faster, heavier. Then I kiss her outer lips, suck them between my lips and hum. Her pussy lips feel so good to my tongue. She tastes amazing. I pull her closer. I love the way her ass fits my grip, feels in my hands. She's got good muscle tone, but she's soft in all the right places.

"Jamie, oh god, that's, oh fuck!" she cries as her orgasm happens.

Her hips buck harder, she leans back, she pulls at her nipples. When she tries to pull away, I don't let her. I turn my attention to her soft inner thighs. She likes when I nibble her there while she rides her climax. She says it makes it last longer. I nibble, kiss, and suck the soft sweet flesh until her breathing slows. When I pull her back to me, we share a long wet kiss. It feels great to be wrapped up with her this way. Tara has always been a great snuggler.

"Let's nap, then we'll find some dinner, okay?" I ask as we lie there in the warmth.

Tara's gentle breathing tells me she agrees completely. It doesn't take me long to follow her to slumber. Let the Tebow dreams begin.

Tim is taking his time getting out of the whirlpool. He knows I'm waiting to give him his post work out massage. He never keeps me waiting, so I go to the door and knock. When he doesn't respond, I stick my head in the door.

He's leaned back in the tub. From the grimace on his face, it looks like the soak hasn't helped his sore ribs at all.

"Tim, you okay, should I get the doc in here for an x-ray?" I ask anxiously. His well being is my responsibility. Did I let him play too soon?

Then I notice. He's not grimacing from pain. He has his hand wrapped around his erect cock. When he looks over at me I don't know how to react. He looks embarrassed to see me, but he doesn't let go.

"Help me finish here?" he asks.

"If that's what you need, that's what I'm here for," I say as I reach into the warm whirlpool and place my hand over his.

"I can handle this, just relax," I tell him as I wrap my hand around his dick and start to stroke him firmly.

I watch his abdominal and thigh muscles tighten as I change my grip and stroke harder, faster. When he closes those blue eyes and grabs my hand, I know he's coming. I continue stroking, more gently now, and watch him relax.

I wake with a start, then realize I was dreaming. Tara and I are still wrapped up, but I can tell by her breathing she's not sleeping.

"That must have been one hell of a dream you were having," she whispered, as she kissed my ear. "Want to tell me about it, or do you want to act it out?"

I feel myself growing warm thinking about the last blurry images of my dream. But the eyes, they are not blurry at all. No, they are bright blue. Why am I embarrassed to share this with Tara? I may have more than the usual crush on Tim, I think.

"I'll have to tell you, because neither of us have the equipment for a demonstration," I tell her.

Tara starts to giggle, then she whispers in my ear.

"Let's go shopping before dinner. We'll get some toys and a #15 jersey. That shouldn't be hard to find around here..."

I try to act offended, but honestly, I'm not completely against this idea. I hope she isn't joking. I'm imagining her kneeling above me in that jersey, getting ready to fuck my pussy with a long thick strap on dildo. I love her breasts, but the jersey is a nice touch.

When Tara bites my neck then pushes away, I'm very optimistic she means it.

"Come on Jamie. Let's see if I can Tebow you well enough to get through that interview tomorrow!" Tara winks at me as she walks to the bathroom.

She always knows what's on my mind.