wearyfoxes
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This is the first part of my encounter with Jessica the cheerleader. While I was just tired and looking forward to a hot shower and a change of clothes, she had a very different game in store for me... (f/m)
Please let me know if anyone's interested in part II.
Soccer Practice (by wearyfoxes)
Exhausted and with sweat dripping from my forehead I had watched the rest of soccer practice from the sidelines. I wore my black ankle-length training pants and a grey t-shirt with the “Warrior” mascot from our school. Even though already April, the day had been chilly, and puddles of mud had formed all over the playing field.
I had found a comfortably dry spot next to the trainer’s bench, which was now deserted as was the rest of the stadium. Everybody had left, and like so often I decided to enjoy the quiet of the place for a couple more minutes. Just when I was thinking about a change of clothes and a hot shower, I heard a familiar voice behind me. When I turned around Jessica’s face smiled at me. She was still in her cheerleading outfit, white socks, trainers and all, and I instantly decided I liked her best that way. We had been friendly with each other in Biology class, but beyond a word or two we didn’t really know anything about each other.
“I watched you practice,” the red head chirped at me.
“The big game’s ahead”, I tried casually—not really being able to hide my pride that I was playing already, even though I hadn’t been on the team for more than a month, since I had changed colleges earlier this year.
“Must be hard…” Jessica’s glance wandered down.
“What do you mean?” I asked bluntly, until I realized that she was staring at my feet, which I had casually stretched out in front of me.
“Oh, soccer. Well, I have started when I was little. Natural talent, I guess.”
Jessica didn’t keep her eyes of my legs, which where stained with the sap of the wet grass that I had been plowing for an hour and a half today.
“No. Not that. You just have nice feet. That must be it.”
I realized that Jessica wouldn’t let the topic go. I might just as well play along with her little game.
“Yep,” I said, “size 11, exceptionally agile and well trained for dribbling, but unfortunately rather ticklish.”
Now both of us grinned. Jessica bent down, and to my astonishment slightly pulled on one of my knee socks.
“Unfortunately these nice tootsies of yours are stuck in these grimy socks.” Jessica glanced at me, with her nose up, almost pulling off to look the part of the innocent girl that she really wasn’t.
Getting the better of me, I felt like I had to take her challenge.
“And what are you going to do about that?”
As if waiting for my signal, Jessica’s fingers sprang into action.
“I think first we’ll get rid of these.”
Swiftly, Jessica untied my soccer shoes and lifted them, heel first, of my feet.
Then Jessica took one of my socked feet into her hand and scrutinized it like you would a small animal.
“My, this one is quite filthy.”
Without waiting for any further consent on my part, Jessica put her index finger under the elastic rubber and slowly rolled down my left sock, excitedly watching first my calves exposed, then my ankle, and finally my bare foot. When she put my foot down on the ground I could feel the chilly cold sifting right through the bottom, but I didn’t care. Thirty seconds later my other sock had been removed in the same fashion.
“Better now?” I asked while Jessica and I stared at my bare feet, which I had planted in front of me as if still wearing my soccer gear.
Jessica blinked.
“Much better…but...” Jessica stretched her voice, bending her head aside so that her shoulder-long hair leaned to one side.
“I would really prefer to see these feet in action,” she made a motion to the playing field.
I followed her cue, while scanning the muddy soil, which I recognized now had transformed the field into a minor swamp. I took a soccer ball from the box, which I should have locked 10 minutes ago and let it roll across my hands. For a moment I hesitated, but then I decided to go for it.
“You do realize that my feet will get quite filthy out there, do you?”
A broad grin crept across her face.
“I’ll take that chance.” Her hand took my left foot again, and she let her finger run all across my vulnerable sole.
“In fact, I prefer them that way”, Jessica said matter-of-factly, giving my upper foot a little slap, which reverberated through the hairs on my skin.
“Well, in that case, I am not the one to disappoint,” I countered, while getting myself up from my seated position.
With an exited expression Jessica followed me a few steps closer to the side line, not taking her eyes of my bare feet that made a silent squishing noise when their bottoms hit the wet grass.
Rotating the ball on my index finger I asked her: “Ready?”
While she still nodded with devilish smile, I wiggled my toes just enough to kick a good amount of water from a puddle next to me into the air, so that Jessica got at least a partial share of the water games that she intended to play with me today.
First, Jessica squeaked, but then in a moment of truce, her broad grin returned.
“Wait until I am done with your tootsies.” (Was that a threat or a promise?)
With her white gym shoe she slightly nudged my bare ankles into movement.
“Okay, okay!” I defended myself. And with a turn of my hip I started playing barefoot ball—and Jessica would get her personal show after all.
To Be Continued.
Please let me know if anyone's interested in part II.
Soccer Practice (by wearyfoxes)
Exhausted and with sweat dripping from my forehead I had watched the rest of soccer practice from the sidelines. I wore my black ankle-length training pants and a grey t-shirt with the “Warrior” mascot from our school. Even though already April, the day had been chilly, and puddles of mud had formed all over the playing field.
I had found a comfortably dry spot next to the trainer’s bench, which was now deserted as was the rest of the stadium. Everybody had left, and like so often I decided to enjoy the quiet of the place for a couple more minutes. Just when I was thinking about a change of clothes and a hot shower, I heard a familiar voice behind me. When I turned around Jessica’s face smiled at me. She was still in her cheerleading outfit, white socks, trainers and all, and I instantly decided I liked her best that way. We had been friendly with each other in Biology class, but beyond a word or two we didn’t really know anything about each other.
“I watched you practice,” the red head chirped at me.
“The big game’s ahead”, I tried casually—not really being able to hide my pride that I was playing already, even though I hadn’t been on the team for more than a month, since I had changed colleges earlier this year.
“Must be hard…” Jessica’s glance wandered down.
“What do you mean?” I asked bluntly, until I realized that she was staring at my feet, which I had casually stretched out in front of me.
“Oh, soccer. Well, I have started when I was little. Natural talent, I guess.”
Jessica didn’t keep her eyes of my legs, which where stained with the sap of the wet grass that I had been plowing for an hour and a half today.
“No. Not that. You just have nice feet. That must be it.”
I realized that Jessica wouldn’t let the topic go. I might just as well play along with her little game.
“Yep,” I said, “size 11, exceptionally agile and well trained for dribbling, but unfortunately rather ticklish.”
Now both of us grinned. Jessica bent down, and to my astonishment slightly pulled on one of my knee socks.
“Unfortunately these nice tootsies of yours are stuck in these grimy socks.” Jessica glanced at me, with her nose up, almost pulling off to look the part of the innocent girl that she really wasn’t.
Getting the better of me, I felt like I had to take her challenge.
“And what are you going to do about that?”
As if waiting for my signal, Jessica’s fingers sprang into action.
“I think first we’ll get rid of these.”
Swiftly, Jessica untied my soccer shoes and lifted them, heel first, of my feet.
Then Jessica took one of my socked feet into her hand and scrutinized it like you would a small animal.
“My, this one is quite filthy.”
Without waiting for any further consent on my part, Jessica put her index finger under the elastic rubber and slowly rolled down my left sock, excitedly watching first my calves exposed, then my ankle, and finally my bare foot. When she put my foot down on the ground I could feel the chilly cold sifting right through the bottom, but I didn’t care. Thirty seconds later my other sock had been removed in the same fashion.
“Better now?” I asked while Jessica and I stared at my bare feet, which I had planted in front of me as if still wearing my soccer gear.
Jessica blinked.
“Much better…but...” Jessica stretched her voice, bending her head aside so that her shoulder-long hair leaned to one side.
“I would really prefer to see these feet in action,” she made a motion to the playing field.
I followed her cue, while scanning the muddy soil, which I recognized now had transformed the field into a minor swamp. I took a soccer ball from the box, which I should have locked 10 minutes ago and let it roll across my hands. For a moment I hesitated, but then I decided to go for it.
“You do realize that my feet will get quite filthy out there, do you?”
A broad grin crept across her face.
“I’ll take that chance.” Her hand took my left foot again, and she let her finger run all across my vulnerable sole.
“In fact, I prefer them that way”, Jessica said matter-of-factly, giving my upper foot a little slap, which reverberated through the hairs on my skin.
“Well, in that case, I am not the one to disappoint,” I countered, while getting myself up from my seated position.
With an exited expression Jessica followed me a few steps closer to the side line, not taking her eyes of my bare feet that made a silent squishing noise when their bottoms hit the wet grass.
Rotating the ball on my index finger I asked her: “Ready?”
While she still nodded with devilish smile, I wiggled my toes just enough to kick a good amount of water from a puddle next to me into the air, so that Jessica got at least a partial share of the water games that she intended to play with me today.
First, Jessica squeaked, but then in a moment of truce, her broad grin returned.
“Wait until I am done with your tootsies.” (Was that a threat or a promise?)
With her white gym shoe she slightly nudged my bare ankles into movement.
“Okay, okay!” I defended myself. And with a turn of my hip I started playing barefoot ball—and Jessica would get her personal show after all.
To Be Continued.
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I am looking forward to part 2! Great story!
