Masseur Takes on Girl Soccer Team

Author's note: I recently found a treasure trove of stories I wrote around 2005, but never published. I hope you like it. I might have some more chapters in this story, but I will make sure that every story is self contained.

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I have been interested in sports medicine for many years, and my college years were spent massaging bruised ankles, smoothing tired thigh muscles, and unkinking knotted backs of our football team.

It was a weekly practice born out of necessity in our middle earnings community.

Money was always tight on campus, and when our girls' soccer team masseuse married and moved on during the second year, the principal called me to the office and offered me the job, adding that this would not only add credits to my studies, but also guarantee graduation.

I didn't need to be persuaded. Despite being seemingly tame, soccer required huge athletic sacrifice. Most players ran up to eight miles in each match and maintenance was far tougher there than with the grunts who relied on sheer muscle mass.

My timetable was thus split in three sessions each, on alternating days including Saturday, which meant I spent less hours on campus most days. It was fine by me, I never could have been classified as a morning person, so starting at ten was a god send. Most sporting sessions were held in the afternoon anyway.

I remember the first time the principal introduced me to Melanie Cooper, the head coach, in his office. He expected us to work together, as Medford had assembled a strong side and was expected to make state, and hopefully, national finals. Mel was a slim athletic woman, about forty five years of age, and a hard task master. She really looked good, but was surely way out of my league. She nodded absently at the principal's wishes.

"I promise to do my best. This is a challenge to me, and honestly, I think we have more chance with the girls making the finals than the guys. It's all bulk with them, they don't care about nutrition, or, pardon my frankness, physical relations on matchday nights. If it moves, they bonk it. Macho stuff. They hate me when I advise them about both." I didn't mince my words.

The principal was not too happy about being reminded. He had put many players out of the squad on punishment.

"Yeah, I'd prefer we put an extra effort on the girls team. Mel, you got a good job going. Stef's leaving might not be as bad as we thought."

"She was too soft on the girls boss. Stef let them off the hook many times. We lost some matches on the way, but our total points haul so far means we will finish in the county top four which will take us to the playoffs, no matter what.

Our tactics and pure skill are far better than our direct opponents, but we struggle with fitness, and sadly, we carry too many muscular injuries across the season. I'd be happy for George to work his magic." Her words were golden to me.

We agreed on a starting date and were dismissed from the principal.

Mel and I agreed to meet and talk about a plan. The day was already nearly over, so we agreed to have a talk in the locker room after the school day ended.

Five o'clock found me in the soccer locker room, with no sign of Melanie. I meandered outside and found her lapping the soccer field. I raised my hand in greeting and just waited for her to pass me.

"Last lap", she said.

I smiled and went inside, looking at what the infirmary held. It was surprisingly well stocked, better than the pne afforded to the football team. Massage beds were plentiful, and the medicine cabinet well up to date. Bandages, splints, crutches, and even wheelchairs, were well kept and painfully clean. I approved.

The coach took me out of my musings with her entrance. "Can I shower please? Or are you in a hurry?"

"Cool by me," I replied. "No-one waiting for me."

"Still single huh?" She asked.

"Yep. Far less complicated life. I don't even have pets. I love the outdoors, and my weekends are usually spent on some trail or other."

"I never married either," she replied. "I shudder to think that I would ever want to have kids. For what it's worth, I think that's a good way of living. Nobody to boss me around. I do what I want, when I want. I live in a small modern rental, where I spend very little time. "

"Yeah, I love it. I don't even have a house. I live in my camper van. Get my mail at my parents house and...."

My voice trailed off as Melanie just took off her shirt and shorts. Naturally, she was wearing a sports bra and sports underwear so nothing was exposed too much, but she had startled me.

She looked at me strangely. "What?"

"Uh...nothing. Just surprised me, is all."

"George, you're going to be massaging young women after a game. Some of these girls hate being dressed, and I am sure you'll be getting a lot of nudes lying around in the locker room. Unless you're gay, of course."

I laughed at that. "I definitely am not gay. Rest your mind. That is what actually bothers me. I get excited easily."

"Well, you'll have to control yourself. Or not. Your choice. I'm just the coach, not their parent. None of the girls are under eighteen, and what they do outside my domain is no concern of mine."

Mel went for her shower, and I sat at the desk, ostensibly to take a look at my phone, but the girls records book caught my eye and I grabbed it to peruse.

Height, weight, injuries, presences, goals, menstrual date approximation, and surprise surprise, sexual orientation. I was not really surprised to find a good amount of bisexuals among them. Very few straight out lesbians though.

I hadn't realised the time I was taking until a polite cough from the doorway caught my attention. I looked up, my jaw dropping like an idiot's. There stood Melanie in the doorway, wrapped in just a towel.

"How about you give me an example of your work? I don't think we could have a better opportunity than right now. Just to have the lay of the land, so to speak. I've just done ten laps of the field, and I would relish a soothing rub down."

"Well, we have everything at our disposal here. Just go and dry yourself while I set-up my things." I was well versed in this work now, and it took me just a few minutes of searching around. I adjusted the table height for my preferred hand length positions, and called her in.

She was dressed in a robe by this time, and I asked her to remove it and lie down on the table, face through the hole. I politely looked away while she unwrapped herself and lay down on the table. To my surprise she was totally naked. I grabbed a small towel with which I covered her ass. Wow. That looked nice. All toned and muscled.

I pulled her hands straight down by her sides and took a look. She had a strong frame, slim but very well muscled. Very little fat, but what there was, was positioned perfectly. I cracked my knuckles, and dipped them in the warm oil I had prepared.

"I'm going to start with a short gentle rubdown to warm your muscles." I said.

I poked at the back of her thighs and calves, moving up to the upper body even as I spoke.

"These are the main areas where soccer players suffer major injury apart from the knees. And in the torso, the trapezius and deltoids must be firm without being too tough. They need to be supple for freedom of movement. Eventually though, the gluteal muscles are the engine room for every player."

I slathered my hands with the oil, and began a basic top to bottom rub-down. Back, arms, upper glutes, then the biceps femoralis, and finally, the calves. The warm oil made a pretty easy job and a few minutes later, I let the athlete rest for sixty seconds. I was already in the zone, and after the resting period, got to work on Melanie.

I did not hold back but gave my all. I had to impress the head coach after all. The fact that she was a woman did not cloud my mental work at all.

Fifteen minutes later she was moaning, whether with pleasure or pain, I could not tell. Her upper back had knots all over it, and I firmly, but strongly, smoothed them out. Her arms required little work, but her thighs were a mess. I gently spread them apart a little, noticing that the towel had ridden up her glutes.

"Take the towel off." She said.

"Okay." We were both professionals, and we both had seen bodies in various state of undress. I had given massages to a number of women, mostly older girls who wanted to be touched, to be honest.

Didn't bother me none. As long as they paid, I was fine with that. I had a constant stream of older ladies who paid well, and played better. I was getting my fill regularly.

I shucked the towel off onto a chair, and got to work on her upper thigh muscles. The biceps femoralis (which we call the LongHead) is the strongest of them all, and the ligaments protecting her muscles were in a bad state. I told her that this will be a bit tough, but she just shrugged.

I needed more space to work, and she obliged by opening her legs a little more. I could see right through to her pussy, and honestly, was starting to enjoy it.

Ten minutes later and Mel was absolutely putty under my hands. She sighed repeatedly, rubbing her legs together in obvious pleasure. I finally relented, my job done to my satisfaction.

"Please keep going." Her voice cracked.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You know what I mean. Happy ending."

I asked if she was sure about it.

"No doubt. Finish me please. I'm absolutely dying to come."

I reinserted my hands in the warm oil and started rubbing slowly around her genital area, already warm with the infrared lamp. Spreading her ass cheeks, I looked at her rose bud, damp and inviting. It excited me so very much.

I dripped some oil on her hole before rubbing my thumb on it and finally pressing down to enter her up to my palm. She wailed in pleasure, but I wasn't finished as my middle finger sought out her clit.

Her legs opened up more as I twiddled her little button, feeling it harden under my probing middle. She sighed and I inserted my forefinger in her pussy, feeling for the wall between her ass and her vagina. I rubbed her there while diddling her clitoris.

She heaved and came explosively, clutching at the bed sheets while moaning heavily. Once, twice she orgasmed on my fingers. Finally, she slumped down on the bed, practically lost to the world.

I grinned as I looked at her totally spent body. Job well done.

I arranged my cock in my pants, dimmed the lights, and walked out.

The morrow would be interesting...