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Soccer Moms (MF, MF, etc)
by MyFrThAl <MyFrThAl@aol.com>
Date: Jan 1998


***


This week, we have a little sociological study.  For anyone who
hasn't been reading the U.S. political news, "Soccer Moms" is
the label that various pundits have used for a vaguely-defined
group of women, roughly the upper-middle-class suburban
mothers you'd expect to see coming to pick up their kids after
soccer practice.  They either were or weren't a key voting
block in the last few major U.S. elections.  This story looks at
a different aspect of this group...   <grin>

.. Mark     http://users.aol.com/myfrthal/


Soccer Moms
by Mark Aster


Soccer moms have on average 2.18 children.  Are 37 years old.
Have been married for 15.5 years, although 14% are divorced.
59% have some work outside the home; 65% drive foreign cars.
48% belong to a health club.  The average soccer mom runs five
errands a day.  Drinks in moderation.  Wears a shade too much
makeup.  And, although family issues are important in their
voting decisions, many soccer moms are up for an occasional
extramarital fuck when opportunity presents itself.

That's Judy Stratton there, in the black suit with the red
scarf and the Gucci bag.  We did it in the back of her big
Dodge minivan, one Wednesday afternoon around the corner
from her daughter's school, parked in the shade.  She was
wearing jeans and a sweater that day; I remember the car's
suspension creaking as she rocked and panted under me on the
grey carpeting.  In the back, with the seats down.

Vehicles play a large part in the affairs of soccer moms.
I fucked Wendy Jacobs in her Subaru twice a week all one
summer, Tuesdays and Thursdays behind Kiddy City while her
son was in karate class.  We would neck like teenagers in
the front seat, our tongues down each other's throats, big
hungry wet kisses and lots of ardent groping.  Then she'd
unzip my pants and work her panties down her thighs, and
swing into my lap and take me inside her.  We'd come together,
right on schedule, and she'd clean herself up with wipes
from her purse.

Soccer moms come in all sizes, shapes, and colors.  I
remember Mrs. Tamamura's small conical breasts, just warm
bulges in her chest, her smooth golden skin, fucking slowly
and leisurely in her bedroom on a Saturday afternoon.  And
sucking on Kayla Newhouse's big chocolate-brown tits while
she rode my cock, naked and moaning, in an empty back room
at the skating rink during her second son's birthday party.

But you don't often get soccer moms naked.  Mostly there's
just enough time for a squeeze and a quick slick coupling,
no time for undressing and dressing again.  After Terri
Inglese's Monday aerobics class, there was barely time for
us to go off to the darkened exercise room, for her to slide
off her lycra shorts and cotton panties and lie back on
the Nautilus bench so I could crouch between her strong
thighs and eat her pussy.  She didn't like me to come inside
her, but she would suck me to a quick orgasm and swallow my
cum with what looked like real pleasure.

Only 8% of soccer moms report regular homosexual contact, but
34% have had at least one same-sex encounter in their adult
lives.  Once, closing up after a girls' basketball game, I
heard some noises from the ladies' room, and found Ella
Morgan and Barbara Stanley half-naked in a stall, with their
mouths on each other.  Mrs. Morgan's fingers were deep in
Mrs. Stanley's cunt, pumping in and out.  I excused myself
and told them I'd watch the door while they finished up.
They were grateful; that summer Mrs. Morgan would stop by
after PTA meetings, and I would fuck her from behind on
the hood of her car in my garage, with her skirt up over
her back and her panties down around her ankles.

Mrs. Harrison, the younger of the third-grade teachers, is
a pretty, plump woman with a ponytail and two kids of her own.
At Meet the Teacher Night I could tell she felt my eyes on
her.  At our first parent-teacher conference, in the empty
classroom, she showed me the reading table and the resource
center, and then she sat down on a little chair, her face
just at the level of my belt.  I told her how well planned
her homework assignments were, and she smiled and thanked me,
and touched the front of my pants with two fingers.  I didn't
say anything as she unzipped my fly and took out my penis.
Her lips were warm and wet around me; she sucked gently and
moved her head back and forth, and I was hard and aching.
She stroked my balls, and I came in her mouth.  Then we
talked about goal-setting and reading assignments until I
was hard again, and I lay her back on her desk and pulled
down her slacks and we fucked long and hot, looking into
each other's eyes.  She came hard, with her mouth wide open.

Some soccer moms cook and some don't.  Mrs. Iacobucci gives
dinner parties three or four times a year, inviting over some
friends and making vast steaming pots of spaghetti, linguine,
lasagne.  After dinner and wine, we split up into twos and
threes and drift off to the bedrooms for sex.  Mrs. Iacobucci
herself likes double penetration; I remember sinking my oiled
cock slowly into her asshole as she lay on her bed with her
husband Antony under her, his cock buried in her big expansive
pussy.  It was hard to find a rhythm, but we did eventually,
and they both came soon after I did.  It was good, coming in
her ass.

I was at Esther David's house one Tuesday in early spring.
Her kids were in school, of course, and Ed was at work.  We
were making plans for the Youth League play, picking out
possible scripts, deciding which kids would be best on which
committee.  I found myself touching her now and then, just a
friendly hand on the shoulder as I walked behind her, or a palm
against her back as we stood close together by her computer.
She looked at me once when I touched her, amused, not startled.
And once she turned, leaning slightly into me, so my hand slid
around from her back and over her stomach, her body pressed
against my palm for a second.  Her flesh was soft and yielding,
like kneaded dough.

Esther is a tall, big-boned woman with long dirty-blonde hair,
her nose maybe a touch too big, eyes far apart, wide red lips.
A lovely ass.  As we worked on the announcements, I felt her
fingers brush over my shirt once.  She touched my cheek with
the back of her hand, pushing a strand of hair off of my face.
Her eyes were quiet, her lips moist.  Our faces were close
together, and I could see the pinkish powdery makeup under
her eyes.  She smelled very clean, very warm.  She got us
some iced tea, and when I took the glass from her, our
fingers touched for longer than they needed to.

We finished up and put things away.  We were standing near
the door, close together.  "This was a very productive day,"
she said, "I'm glad you could come."  I found I was holding
her hand.  I smiled at her, and she moved her fingers over
mine.  "The kids will be home at three," she said.  She
brought our hands up to her shoulder.  "Plenty of time,"
she said, very softly.

Esther's breasts were round and soft through her blouse.  I
kissed her mouth and she closed her eyes.  Her lips were moist
and caressing on mine.  I kissed her again and she slid her
tongue into my mouth.  I moved my hands down her back to her
ass and pulled her against me.  I kissed her neck as she
unbuckled my belt.  I rolled down her pantyhose and licked her
pussy until she was writhing, then I pushed into her and we
fucked quickly there on the rug, in front of the door, kissing
hard and long as we came.

Last week I dropped off one of the kids at a birthday party
and stood around for awhile talking to some of the other
parents.  Wendy Jacobs was there, Mrs. Tamamura, Dot Stevens,
a few others.  Standing with these busy, competent, hungry,
large-souled women, I was very happy.  Judy Stratton came
in, sent Stephanie off to play with the other kids, gave
me a peck on the cheek.  "So what are you doing 'til
four-thirty?" she asked.

"I've got some errands to run," I said, "Nothing really urgent,
though."  She smelled delicious.


Soccer Moms
by Mark Aster

