I Dare You

I situated myself on the (very) inclined bench and dropped back to grab the plate. Gravity did its due and I felt an added weight pressing against my upper chest. This was going to be fun! Coach Terry stood behind me, staring with a weird look that I couldn't exactly decipher from my upside-down position. I started on my crunches and closed my eyes to avoid any further embarrassment as my entire upper body bounced with every rep. I could still feel her eyes on me, though, and it took all my will to not say, "Like what you see?" That's how some porn movies start, don't they?

When my crunches were done and I sat back up on the bench, she shouted again, "1 minute rest, then 50 more." I turned back and I swear I caught her smirk. Goodness, I was going to pay for this. She walked away to another player, and I tried catching my breath. My eyes wandered on the mirror facing me and landed on Brooke who was spotting another player, two benches away. She nodded toward the coach, smiled, and mouthed the words, "she likes you." I felt myself turn even more crimson red.

"Again, Jess!" I heard coach shout as she came back toward me, this time positioning herself to my side rather than behind me. I dropped back reluctantly, grabbed the plate, and started again. I kept my eyes open this time though, catching Terry's eyes repeatedly as I dropped back and came up. A mix of anger and something more carnal filled her face, but she kept it professional, not once looking down at my jiggling chest. "26, 27," I mouthed and heaved under her eyes, with sweat pouring out of me and other liquids seeping from a different place.

I slowly realized that as much as I was sure now that Terry was a lesbian, I was also certain she wasn't my naughty instigator. This wasn't the kind of woman who would mix business with pleasure, no matter how much she'd want to, nor was she the kind who'd hide behind subtle letters and playful dares. If she was interested, she'd come at you full-speed and tell you how she felt. I'd be lying though if I didn't admit the thought of her coming at me wasn't particularly enticing. Umph.

A brief image of her ordering me to lick her to orgasm while doing push-ups on top of her fleeted through my brain and I shuddered. The prospect of another shower "session" after this training was becoming inevitable. I was too aroused to wait until I got home.

I finished my reps under Terry's glare, caught my breath, and got off the bench on her side. "Pack a backup, always," she whispered when I tried to pass her. I nodded and dropped my eyes to the ground. "Triceps press, 3 sets of 50," she said louder, and moved away to another player.

I hurried in the dictated direction, happy about this temporary reprieve. Number 20 was finishing up on the machine and she smiled when she saw me approach. "That was fun to watch," she said discreetly. I blushed. Had the entire team noticed what happened earlier? Shit. "We need more interesting training sessions like these," she laughed and got up. I started wondering if she wasn't too happy about this whole situation, but her lack of interest in me for the remainder of the time made me question that theory.

The rest of the session went on in discomfort but without any notable incident beside me realizing I was looking and lingering too much. Not at any woman in particular, but all of them. Say what you will about the porn industry, but it really nailed it when it comes to girls in spandex flexing muscles and making their bodies move in weird angles and shapes. It is very sexy and when you have over a dozen of them in one confined space, well, you can't help but stare and fantasize. Younger, older, married, single, butch, femme, it didn't matter. Every one of them was attractive in her own way and it occurred to me that I wouldn't mind pinching any of these girls' nipples. One week ago, the thought would have surprised me, but I was on a slowly progressing journey, and nipples seemed like a great, but safe, place to park my fantasies at.

In the last five minutes of training, Number 13 (I should really start learning their names!) spotted me on the barbell bench press and I stared at her crotch a little longer than necessary several times. When it was my turn to help her, the thought that she could smell me while I leaned my free-hanging chest above her made me even wetter, and I nearly ran back to the locker room afterwards. I usually finished my training with a bit of light cardio, but I knew I couldn't handle the slickness between my folds if I moved one more minute.

I grabbed my gym bag and rushed toward the shower, but I bumped chest-first into a half-naked Brooke. "Oh sorry, I tit not see you there!" She winked and moved past me. Whether it was my brain playing games with me or the entire universe conspiring against my sanity, I didn't know and didn't care anymore. I needed to clear my head and the only way to do that was to get it out of my system. Which I did, in the shower.

As I shuddered against the wall with the image of my hands squeezing Brooke's chest burning in my brain, I started to wonder whether I wasn't maybe bi-curious after all. Straight girls don't fantasize about licking their female coaches, do they?

-----

"Wow. That surpassed my wildest imagination! You have the sexiest chest and the most delicious set of hard nipples. I laughed, I stared, I was jealous, I stared again, and I laughed some more.

Can you slip me a little something to remind me of you, cutie? I'll look above the fourth towel from the bottom, after practice. I dare you ;)"

Third letter, third dare, and "slip" was the italicized word. Out of habit I looked at the locker room, but no one was there. I folded the paper and stuck it in my gym bag.

I had tried to come in early to catch my naughty instigator in the act, or at least eliminate some possibilities if the letter was already placed and not all players had arrived, but I got caught in traffic on my way over. The one time I don't check Google Maps before taking a route! By the time I had reached the club, practice had already started, and my letter was waiting for me.

I rushed to get changed and kept glancing at the letter as it sat idly in my bag. I didn't have time to indulge, but my little devil had gone through the trouble of writing me that vanilla-scented letter. It'd be rude not to answer, wouldn't it?

It had been less than a week since the first letter and you could say I was already a little infatuated. My thoughts over the past days had centered around her, whoever she was. I'd been looking forward to practice more than I used to when I was a giddy 7 years old and football was my life. I closed my eyes and thought of her being disappointed not to see me today. Perhaps I could give her a reason to smile. My hand slipped down into my panties and I found myself already wet. I wanted to take my time, make it special, but the thought of doing this for a stranger was too naughty, and I barely managed to hold more than a couple of minutes. As my orgasm neared, I held onto the stall door and pictured her watching me. That did it.

A few minutes later, after I'd changed into another pair of underwear (I had learned to pack extra - thanks, coach!), I raised the one I'd been wearing earlier and took a little sniff. Uhmmm. She was going to enjoy this as much as I did. Maybe more. Definitely more. The club's towel rack remained largely unused as all of us brought our own. I counted four from the bottom and slipped my panties above that one, then ran out toward the field.

I was focused on practice this time; I couldn't afford another incident for the third session in a row. I ran, I jumped, I dribbled, I tackled, I bumped, I defended, all with determination. Maybe having gotten rid of some stress beforehand had helped. But if I'm being honest, I was showing off a little, for her. The idea that she was watching me was both driving me mad and giving me wings.

With the end of our practice match nearing, I scored a remarkable header from a corner and got high-fives from everyone, a smack on the butt from Oksana, and a hug from Kiara. "Good job, Jess!" a few of them shouted, and it felt good to not be referred to as "newbie" anymore. I was starting to fit in and feel appreciated; even coach and Alex were smiling from the sidelines. For a moment, I'd forgotten all about my current situation and what I'd left in the locker room for her. I was part of a team and it was damn nice.

I couldn't wipe the grin off my face for the rest of practice. A new sense of belonging was spreading over me and whether I had my naughty little devil to thank for that or not, I wasn't sure. Back in the locker room, I glanced at the towel rack and was tempted to sneak a peek to see if she'd already collected my dues, or if the cleaning crew would have an unpleasant surprise on their hands, but I eventually decided against it. I trusted she'd find a way to get it out, she had her own mysterious methods.

-----

"Thank you for the gift you left me last time. I thoroughly treasured and enjoyed it... many times.

But I feel guilty having all the fun by myself, so I left you something in return, cutie, to make you vibrate like you made me. I dare you to wear it ;)"

This couldn't be. I did a double take. No she wouldn't, would she? I sighed. She would, she definitely would.

Although the letter made it seem like she had left me a pair of her own panties in the towel rack, the word "vibrate" was italicized, and I knew what that meant. I looked around at the gym room. Only five players were there, all busy with their clothes and bags, the rest having gone to change or already on the field. I could walk to the towel rack and get the "item" without anyone noticing.

I grabbed my bag and quickly stopped by the towels, slipping my hand in and out through the secret spot. With the object clenched in my fist, I rushed to change, not stopping to see if anyone had noticed my move.

Just as expected, she did leave me a vibrator. I stared at it for a few minutes in confusion. It was black, very sleek, and felt like rubber. But it wasn't shaped in the more traditional cylindrical style. Instead, it looked more like the front of a pair of panties with an inward curve to hit the clit. There were no buttons and no controls anywhere, just a small battery door latch. I instantly realized it must be remote controlled. This would be... new.

I didn't stop to think twice. Just that morning, I had wondered what she might dare me to do next and decided that I wasn't going to fight it anymore. I was under a spell, and the sooner I admitted it and stopped pretending to struggle over the moral grounds of it, the better. We were two consenting adults and those dares were too fun and too sexy not to obey. Besides, there was something more to this. The words she used and the way she used them made me feel, erm, things.

I closed my eyes and thought of my imaginary naughty instigator. The faceless woman who had gotten me hot and bothered every day now, without touching me. The mysterious stranger who had overtaken my thoughts with her quirky dares and witty words, and forced me out of my comfort zone. The secret admirer who was probably out there, waiting for me with her remote control in hand, eager to test it out on me. I wanted her to control me. I wanted to relinquish my body to her and let her set the tone and speed and background to my orgasm.

I dropped my panties and placed the vibrator so its curve perfectly aligned with my already hard clit. A thrill coursed through my body as the cold of the rubber hit my hot spot and I shivered from apprehension and eagerness. This was going to be fun. Torturous, amazing fun.

I adjusted my panties, making sure they held the vibrator tightly in place no matter how I moved. Yup. I was good. Whether the setup would stand the test of two hours of drills and exercise, I wasn't sure, but that was the most I could do for now. I could always come back to the bathroom mid-practice and fix or discard it if things didn't work out.

As soon as I got out of the stall, I knew the next two hours weren't going to be a walk in the park. My entire body was tense and every movement was only fueling the fire further. If I took a step, bowed a little, raised my leg, or even stood still, the strange object made its presence known. I could only imagine what two hours of runs, squats, jumps, and intense exercise would do. I wouldn't even dare think what the littlest vibration might add on top of that, but I'd soon find out, wouldn't I?

I stepped onto the field with apprehension and excitement. The vibrator was already meeting less and less friction in its new habitat, and my body was reacting to its simple presence. I expected a little welcome buzz from my mysterious stranger, but nothing happened, to my dismay.

The first forty or so minutes of practice were spent in the same absolute agony. With every move I made, I anticipated the buzz that didn't come. I ran, I jumped, I squatted, I did sit-ups, and half a dozen other ball control exercises, all while thinking about her and feeling the constant touch of the vibrator. Instead of acclimating to the strange presence within me, I became more and more aware of it. The yearning in my core was intensifying by the minute, I was getting more and more edgy, desperately clinging onto my sanity and doing my best not to run off to the bathroom to take care of the situation in a blink. But I couldn't. I had to wait for her to press that button.

It was hard to understand what that woman was doing to me by, well, not doing anything. My whole being, mind and body, was wired up and waiting. Never had a man made me feel this way, and the thought that it was an unknown woman doing this to me was both incomprehensible and electrifying. If she raised her hand right then, on the field, in front of everyone, and told me she was the one behind the letters, I would bulldoze my way to her, grab her hair and push her down in front of me, drop my shorts, and make her tongue do what the vibrator was supposed to. Decency be damned!

With every passing minute, my brain got flooded with the same question, firing from my neurons over and over again: When would she turn it on? When I was helping Zoe (number 3 - I was finally getting their names) stretch and had my body right on top of hers? Or when Zoe was helping me and had her face nearly level with my waist? Or maybe when I was slalom'ing with the ball and trying to stay in control? Or could it be when we stood in a circle and started passing the ball quickly between each other? No. She waited.

Until it buzzed, for the first time, at the very start of a two-minute plank. The relief that flooded my system upon feeling the little vibration was soon overpowered by the delightful excitement spreading through me. I relished the weak but constant buzz coming from the vibrator, but every second made my blood course faster in my veins and weakened my hands and knees. In a few seconds, I was trembling. Two minutes of this would be unthinkable.

Internally though, I was smiling at her ingeniosity. This was clearly a small dare on its own. She had kept me anticipating until the worst possible moment, then challenged me to hold it through. I wanted to steal a look at the other players to see if she was observing me, but I kept my focus on the ground, counting down every second as if a live-ticking bomb was in front of me. Ninety nine, ninety eight, ninety seven...

Seventy. I was barely hanging by a thread. The buzz wasn't strong, but it was enough to get me closer and closer. Another minute of this wouldn't even be imaginable. I tried and tried to get my mind off it. I counted the little grass roots springing up from the field below my head, I found a ladybug and a few minuscule insects, I heard every breath and sound around me, I concentrated on my breathing. Nothing worked. The vibrator was all I could think of or feel.

Fifty. I'd made it through more than half of it. I could get through this, I thought, naively.

Forty five. "I could do this all day," one player said. A giggle and a few grumbles echoed around. I didn't look. I barely heard. "Look at Jess, she's a natural." Without even looking up, I knew all eyes were on me. I couldn't place the voice, but whoever said that sentence either knew what they were doing or had unknowingly contributed to my torture. Steady, steady, you can hold it, I repeated to myself.

Forty. Shit. Still forty. I closed my eyes and summoned all my strength.

Thirty. I jolted. The vibration's intensity had suddenly increased and it wasn't that small buzz anymore. Whatever self control I had was quickly being suffocated under the pressure of this powerful building orgasm.

Twenty five. Blurry vision, blurry sounds. The world was dissipating, washed out by a flood of endorphins.

Twenty. The fact that I could still count was impressive. The fact that my body was still holding the plank was nothing short of a miracle. Every fiber of my muscles was shivering. So close. Release, whichever form it took, was almost there.

"Let go, cutie." The words cut through the fog of my brain. Was it her? Did she want me to...? I shuddered in the air, my body hanging by a microscopic thread of strength. I bit my lips, trying not to scream. A half whimper - half grunt escaped me as pleasure spread through me, faster than a cannonball, and kept rolling around my veins. With the vibrator still buzzing, my body stayed on that peak, wave after wave crashing into me.

"Down. Rest." Better words I had never heard in my life. I collapsed on the floor in a heap of lifeless flesh, and the breath I was holding finally escaped my lips.

The vibrator stopped too and I laid there for a moment, speechless. What just happened?

Did anyone notice? Did anyone see? Hear? Know? I raised my head and looked around. No one seemed to care, they were all grumbling and getting back on their feet.

I gathered whatever power remained in me and pushed myself up. My legs were beyond numb. I had barely managed to stand when a short buzz came from the vibrator. Jolt. Nothing. Buzz, jolt. Nothing. Buzz, jolt. For a minute, she toyed with my body, putting it back in disarray for a second then stopping. She was having fun.

Then she finally stopped, and I was able to resume practice with whatever dignity and power I still had. But I couldn't help but wonder. Did she really speak to me, before I came? Or was it a figment of my imagination? I guess I'd never know.

The rest of practice went on without any incidents or buzzes, though the presence of the vibrator was even more noticeable to me now. Another relief in the shower would be welcome.

As we headed back to the lockers after training, I started wondering what I should do with the object. Return it? Keep it?

"Wow, I knew you were very cumpetitive, but this surpassed my expectations, cutie.

I'd like to say this was all part of my genius plank from the start, but I sort of made it up as I went. I'm glad you enjoyed it :)

PS: Please return it to the towel rack."

I found the letter in my locker after my shower. I didn't look around to investigate who could have slipped it. At this point, I knew she was too careful to get caught.

And although it was difficult to part with it, I slipped the now-clean object between the towels on my way out. A naughty smile crept on my face as I wondered what she'd do with it and which surprises the next practice session would bring.

-----

"You're becoming familiar with most players now, cutie. That's great for the team spirit and chemistry.

But tonight, you'll try harder to get to know them more closely with a peck on the neck, a nip on the lip, a bump on the rump, a grip on the hip, and a thrust to the bust. I dare you ;)"