Late Ch. 06

Hi all! Finally part 6 is here, it takes a while to get into the naughty stuff, but hopefully the ending makes it worth the wait! Once again, sorry for taking so long on it. Patrons have been voting on what they want to see next, but 'Late' will continue (at least until all the ends have been neatly tied into a bow!.... hopefully?)

Anyway, thank you for all the comments, sorry for leaving it on a cliff-hanger for so long.. and enjoy! - TSG123 x

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Jane stared into the mirror.

The sports gear brought out the very best of her assets; her ass was well defined by white pants clutching them, breasts ambitiously packed into a red sports jersey which showed her midriff. If someone had said she was the team cheerleader, they probably wouldn't have batted an eye.

Jane turned to the side, then back again.

She struggled to see any beauty whatsoever.

It was hard to explain what was wrong, because on the surface everything was so right. Her expression hadn't changed, she was still her.... But the eyes seemed to have lost some of its lustre, her pose lacking the strength of mind to go with the body. It didn't help that her big toe was still aching, wrapped in a large ugly bandage, the circumstances of its creation making it even seem more hilariously swollen.

Jane hadn't done much laughing recently though. Especially since Freddie had stopped coming to practice. Or texting.

She sniffed, rubbing her hands gently, almost as if she was trying to simulate the feeling of being caressed.

Even exercise couldn't distract her.

She glanced briefly at the bulge running down her leg which would have to be tucked away.

"Hm."

'Stupid thing.'

Her attention crawled to the clock. An hour until practice.

She could go early?

Turning back to the woman in the mirror, it was interesting how out of place she seemed from her surroundings.

If she stayed, she would have to spend another thirty minutes alone.

Jane grabbed her keys, limping gingerly to the door.

Maybe he'd be there...

***

A trio of twentysomethings looked up at snatches of blue sky, fat, gluttonous clouds doing their best to cover the sunshine above it. It hadn't prevented some warmth from descending, Mo basking in the few glimpses of brightness until a gust of wind made him cover up, flicking his fringe into his eyes.

"TOLD you we didn't need to get here early."

"No, Coach is ALWAYS a stickler for tardiness!" Claire shot back, flicking her dirty blond hair out of the resting bitch face on display, although she was never far from a wry smile. "Right Zo?"

Zoey picked at the Wildcats logo which had faded on her shirt, trying to pull it forwards to avoid the sweat under her breasts. It had become a habit since she was fairly large in that particular department.

"I don't know Clay... I think she's usually okay..?"

The chattering trio kicked the dirt beneath their feet.

"Ha, do you remember when Freddie turned up late and Coach nicknamed him 'Bitch'?"

"Oh shit really? I wish I'd been there for that..."

"Yeah.. feels like she's not as vigorous as before."

"Vigorous? Pfft, makes you sound like you guys are having sex."

"Oh I wish."

"We know you wish Mo."

Mo humphed.

"It's been five minutes since we should have started."

"Yeah, I know right?"

Claire studied Coach in the distance who was glancing briefly at the players all idling around, expecting her to gather them in, before settling a stern expression back on the gate again, somehow profoundly interested in the ugly iron construction, green paint falling away in places leaving metal showing through the cracks.

"What is up with her?"

"Yeah, she's been off lately."

"Don't say that!"

"Why not?"

"Well... because."

Mo scratched his head, raking through dark hair shaped in an ordinary short back and sides, enjoying the smell of fresh cut grass floating across the open field. He threw a softball up in the air, idly catching it with his glove.

"Well she's off, who in their right mind would appoint Dean?!... wouldn't mind asking her... privately, if you know what I mean."

A ginormous smile popped onto Claire's face.

"Uh, ex-CUSE me, we discussed this, I get first dibs!"

"I don't know... Should we be talking about her like this?"

Zoey, played with the curly hazel locks from her shoulders as Claire shot her an accusatory stare.

"Like you haven't before... hell, you only keep your lipstick on for practice just so Coach might notice you!"

Zoey's cheeks went red beneath her freckles, pulling bright pink lips closer together.

"That's not true...."

"Sure it's not."

"EVERYONE IN."

They continued poking comments back and forth whilst moving to where Jane was standing.

When they reached her, the usual power pose seemed oddly deflated.

"Okay everyone... we have a game coming up next week on Sunday against the Scorchers, so I want everyone ready and rested....I'll have the lineup ready by-"

"Ahem."

A ripple of tightened jaws answered the polite cough as a short man with a not-quite-monobrow stepped forwards.

"I think she MEANT to say-"

Coach cut in.

"She? I'm here Dean."

Zoey and Mo sniggered before unsubtly flicking their eyes down to her ass, taking in the suppleness of it.

In contrast to Dean, it was like watching a squat ogre competing with an elven goddess, Claire's attention momentarily wrenched to the hair on the back of his hands, so black and bristly they seemed as if they might come alive and scurry away of their own accord as he wiped his palms on a faded white shirt.

"Ew," she muttered, having to look back at Coach's rear end to cleanse her eyes.

"Huh?" responded Mo, whose eyes had never wavered from the curves of Coach Matherson.

Dean cleared his voice.

"I think what you meant to say was that WE will have the line-up ready, correct?"

"Captain's have never picked teams, but I'll let you know the line-up when it's ready."

Dean seemed like he was itching to blurt something out, and for a moment the tension seemed to scorch the air between them.

"..... Right."

He stepped back, looking like a man who had just swallowed a whole lemon. The silence that followed was so sharp it would have drawn blood if Coach Matherson hadn't broken it.

"Well then... I'll expect full focus today."

"We," muttered Dean, but Jane ignored it.

"Right, FIRST let's start with some batting drills....!"

She looked down, and then around, confused at the box of gloves and balls, and no bats.

"...With.... I apologise, I seem to have ah.... forgotten some of the equipment for the first drills.... Please take a few warmup laps of the field whilst I get them.."

"I'll get right on it!"

"..... Thank you Dean," she replied begrudgingly.

Eyebrows rose as they watched her march swiftly to the clubhouse.

"Sheeee's definitely not right," muttered Claire, and Mo and Zoey nodded their heads in agreement.

"Everyone to me, follow along now!"

"Ugh," muttered Claire as they settled into a middle distance runner's pace that was Dean's go-to mode of exercise, and which for the team was becoming a never-ending lesson in being painfully bored or worse, humiliated.

"Hurry along Charlene!"

The woman's face was red already, and they'd barely made it halfway round the pitch.

She tried to bustle faster, but it didn't seem at all comfortable, a grimace on her face. Trainers kicked up little bits of grass, dust and mud as they passed under the shadows of Maple trees in full bloom, the greens so bright it almost hurt to look at as a sunbeam briefly burst through.

"When was the last time Coach forgot stuff?!" Mo asked as their trio bobbed along at the back of the group.

"Man, I don't know what's wrong...... but I bet you...... ANY money.... that Dean is the reason," huffed Claire.

"Probably.... Or do you think maybe she got like some private problems or something?"

"What like family stuff?...Ugh.. Money problems....?"

"I think she's well-paid right?..... Maybe something romantic? Unrequited love and all that??"

"HA, if she wanted she could get a boyfriend like THAT." Claire slowed down and snapped her fingers, which drew the attention of some other team members, a despondent Terry briefly looking their way.

"Or a girlfriend," muttered Zoey.

"Or two girlfriends."

They giggled and slowed down, the trio almost separate from the rest of the pack as clouds moved overhead.

"I think she's sad because she's lonely... Like did you ever see her with anyone?"

"Naw, come on, HER?! She'd just go out and grab any guy and they'd marry her!" said Mo.

"STRAGGLERS, IF YOU DON'T KEEP UP, IT'LL BE TWO EXTRA LAPS!" Dean called from the front.

Mo grumbled as they dragged their heels to catch up.

"Whatever, I think it's sent her barmy. That's the only reason for picking Dean as captain."

"Yeah.." Zoey muttered, glancing back at Coach Matherson who was emerging with a box in her hands, sparing another look at the entrance to the park before her shoulders seemed to sag, and she trudged to the field.

"... But, what kind of crazy rich super-dude, ("Or girl!" Claire chimed in), would a woman like Coach Matherson be pining for?"

***

Freddie clutched at his hair, pulling at a strand which was reaching down to his across his forehead.

He should probably get a haircut.

He took in a heavy breath through his nose and then regretted it, because his room smelt like an animal cage in a zoo, hinting at unwashed bodies or as it turned out, overuse of one particular part of his body, and the floor only just remained visible under a sea of unwashed clothes.

'I should probably wash some of those..'

He continued to scroll, keeping his eyes painfully locked on the computer screen.

'Maybe New York has something interesting...'

"The Big Apple....."

Fred mumbled as he scrolled down the jobsite listings, slender fingers zipping across the keys.

*clack-clack-clack-clack*

His eyebrows rose at the list of requirements for entry level jobs plus ridiculous rent prices, and decided that perhaps the hustle and bustle was not for him; living in a shoebox didn't carry much appeal.

"Michigan?... Hell, New Jersey??"

'The Garden state, might be fun, right?'

Petrol-station worker.

Office secretary.

Join the army.

He snorted.

'Well... guess it's my fault for getting a degree in psychology.'

His finger hovered over the create tab, and he briefly flirted with the idea of searching for more adult content.

'You've done enough... enough for today...'

He closed the laptop, turning and falling onto his bed which had dirty socks and shirts lying on various bits of it, trying to enjoy the softness of the sheets.

His mind drifted, and as it usually did, it drifted to her. He scrunched his eyes shut to try and block out the feeling of being dragged to the ground, feeling the heat of a woman's body on his, legs clad in the lithest uniform in the known universe, stripper titties pressed up against him.

'Stop it.'

Maybe he could take a trip to see his old high-school friend Patrick in Arizona? It had been a while...

The thought of sitting on her lap made him pine momentarily for warmth.

'NO.'

His heart thumped as he grabbed his jacket, peeling himself from the bed.

'Just need to get out.... perhaps a trip to the comic store.... Something to clear my mind.....'

On the way down from his flat he imagined her walking up the stairs and shoving him against the wall, the musk of her enveloping him, a hint of sweat and perfume, mixed with the smell of grass.

'STOP IT.... Just go somewhere.'

He trudged to his car and stared down at the flat tire that he still hadn't fixed.

'Fuck.'

Blood was already flowing to his crotch, the image repeating in his head of peachy lips pressing against his.

'For Goodness's sake get a grip...'

He forced himself to trudge to the bus-stop, spending the next fifteen minutes sat in his own world, not really switching his brain on whilst walking onto the bus and paying for a ticket.

As it left the curb, he absent-mindedly settled in, gazing out of the window at the cars flitting past. It was all a meaningless blur, and it went so quickly he almost forgot to get off, hitting the STOP button barely a second before the destination.

*DING*

*SCCCRREEEEEECH*

The driver fixed him with a beady stare as the doors slammed open, Freddie's face warm as he stepped out into a pleasant afternoon breeze.

The destination was only a block away from here, and after a short walk through the bustling town centre he found himself eyeing the front of a store, brick walls faded in contrast to the displays of bright and colourful comics.

Childish excitement built in his chest.

It had been a while.

He bounced before pushing into an invitingly lit room with row upon rows of comic books, every one squeezing muscled beasts, colourful insignias and casts of wacky-looking characters into as much of their front covers as possible.

"Yeoooo Fred, long time no speaky!"

An early-thirties man with side-slicked green hair that was far less cool than intended and a double-chin wove into view.

"Hey Damian... Yeah, yeah, what's up?"

"Ha not much... Why you been so busy, you get a girlfriend?"

The feeling of Jane's crotch bulge rubbing against him sprang to the forefront of his mind.

"Uh.. no...! Nope. Why, got one to offer?"

He chuckled.

"Ha yeah, but she's mine."

"... Wait, what?"

"..... Dude, I got a girlfriend!"

Freddie did the man the honour of not letting his mouth fall open.

"Dude... I mean... congrats man!"

He smiled.

"Yeah... I'm pretty stoked. She's not into comics but that's cool....."

"Dude... if she's a real, human woman, I think comics can take a backseat for once, right?"

Damian struggled to keep the shine from his cheeks.

"Yeah... you know, I could ask her if she has any friends that are single for you?"

If ever there was a moment that Fred felt like he had entered a parallel universe, it was this one.

'How is Damian from the comic book store setting me up on a date?'

Something in the centre of his brain pulled him back for a moment, before he nodded.

"You know what? Yeah."

"Cool!... I'll text her in a bit. You still playing softball?"

Fred stiffened.

"No."

As Damian opened his mouth to ask why, Fred changed the subject

"Any... uh!... any new releases out?"

A feverish look entered Damian's gaze. Immediately he was in his element, almost jumping out of his shoes as he began to pull Fred to different display shelves.

"Oh DUDE, you should check these out... 'Hulk-smasher year one', 'The Core'.... 'Legacy guild'... that last one is a must-read!"

Fred scanned the selection of bright colours and beautifully drawn characters, and felt a pang that Terry wasn't here.

Freddie sighed, scratching his head. If only he could talk to someone...

'Screw it.'

He unlocked his phone and typed in a few words.

*Sup Ter. Still alive?*

The swoosh of the messenger app made him feel a little better.

Damian's face became ugly as Fred thumbed his phone, peering at the screen.

"Dude, you better not be ordering those online.... We have to keep costs up for the store experience!"

"No, no!.... Uhhh You know what, I'll take this one!"

Immediately Damian's face was sunny again.

"Right you are!"

"Mind if I read it here?"

"No worries man! Just pay later, take a seat."

"Yeah..."

"And let me message my girl for ya!"

"Cool."

"Anything else?? Coffee? Donut???"

"Uhhhh no, I'm good thanks..."

"Great!"

As the man trundled off, Fred sank down into a bean bag at the back to read, and sighed as the first page showed a powerful female figure with shoulder length hair wearing lycra, in a full-page power pose.

The girl had jet black hair, but already his imagination was turning it blond.

His stomach knotted as he scanned the figure, the definition of each portion of her legs outlined by the black material....

He imagined what a bulge down one leg would look like.

Freddie closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.

"Just.. come ON," he muttered.

***

Terry whined into Kevin's face as he pumped his hips.

"Oh yeah, fuck me!"

Through the darkness it was just possible to see his grimace.

"Okay, okay, just... just wait a sec...."

"Yeah you like it when I talk dirty, YES, right there, deep in my pussy...."

"Ugh, Ter just.... I'm trying to......"

"Oh yeah!... oh.... Kev?"

He hung his head.

"Kev are.. you... okay?"

He didn't speak, removing his flaccid cock from her wetness.

Terry put an arm on his shoulder.

"Babe.... Is this because of the game? It's cool, you played fine! we'll come back next week...!"

He rolled away.

"No, it's nothing.... Just tired."

She watched him rub his eyes.

"Is it the..... captaincy thing?... I know that asshat Dean's been rubbing your f-"

"I'm FINE!" he snapped, and Terry recoiled. She had never heard him raise his voice before. And definitely not in such an angry tone.

"Sure... okay..."

She made a mental note not to mention Dean's name again.

He got up and went to the bathroom.

Terry lay back in bed, waiting. The bed felt even larger with just her in it.

"..... Kev?"

When he came out Kevin looked ever since the captaincy had been stripped. Dogged. Sulky. The polar opposite of his usual upbeat self.

"Kev.. what's wrong?"

His face hardened.

"It's nothing... just need to sleep."

Terry's eyebrows rose as he crept under the covers and turned over.

"Are you s-"

"YES."

"Right..."

They fell silent, Terry's mind whirring in the darkness.

She didn't even attempt to sleep, because she knew it wouldn't happen.

Seconds crawled like years as she spent the time churning through her thoughts, still unable to hear any snoring which meant Kevin was still awake.

She resolved to wait until he did eventually drift off.

Something bumped in the flat upstairs. Maybe they were having sex.

Terry chewed her tongue, wishing her clit would stop tingling.

There was a small light on the wall from Kevin's alarm clock which was suddenly really pissing her off.

The wait went on, another bump from above making a vein in her temple throb unpleasantly against the pillow. Eventually a quiet nasal *Gnnk* signalled that Kevin had begun snoring.

"Jees....."

Terry sighed in relief, creeping out of bed, fidgeting with her unkempt hair as she made her way through the flat to the decent-sized kitchen.

So much nicer than her place.

She began to delve into cupboards, rummaging for sandwich ingredients. It was hard to come down from the pre-sex buzz, so maybe munching on something sweet might help. She searched for the Jam and found it instantly, which was a strange sensation for her. Kevin was certainly organised, bless his sweet ass.

As Terry was chucking one piece of bread into a toaster and covering the other in jam, her clit ached and she put the knife through the crust, jam spilling onto the side.

She hissed.

"Okay, taking the softball team is one thing, but taking my man's penis away is TOO FUCKING FAR."

She grabbed her phone and checked her messages.

Maybe it was time to start replying.

A few missed birthdays.... Mom called... A Freddie text.

'Crap.'

She hadn't messaged him in two weeks.

Well, he was busy fucking Coach right?

'Wait...'

A nugget of an idea formed in her head.

'He's busy fucking Coach.... we haven't hung out in a while... Maybe he could say something to her...'

"I'm a bad freakin' friend," she muttered, thumbing a quick reply. She jabbed the send button with her thumb.

A look down at the plate made her sigh, wishing it was Kevin making a mess of her instead of her making a mess of this sandwich.