Soccer Mom and a Bully

I don’t really know where to put this since it doesn’t seem to fit any of the categories very well. So I’m placing it here since “taboo” seems to be sort of a catch-all. Sorry if this is not the right place for it. This is a Netorare story, if you don’t know what that means it’s similar to cuckolding. It has very heavy themes of humiliation, heartbreak and betrayal so don’t read if you’re not into that sort of thing.

“Coach! Colin tripped me!” I whined, as usual the coach wasn’t paying any attention to the game he was too busy looking at the soccer mom on the field, my mom.

“No I didn’t I was trying to get the ball! he’s just being a crybaby.” Colin retorted, but it didn’t matter either way, the coach was clearly uninterested in the event and was mainly just annoyed with the interruption of his gawking.

“Quit the belly-aching Jessie, sometimes your going to scrape a knee or bruise an elbow, it’s sports son! man up!”

“Yeah, girl name, stop whining.” Colin gnarled which received a hearty amount of laughter from the other kids on the team and topped it off with an infuriating smirk, obviously pleased with getting away with another jab at my pride. Colin was the same age as me, 18. But he sure didn’t look like it. He was 6 foot tall, well built and handsome, blonde hair, blue eyes, the whole shebang and a real jerk to boot. No wonder all the girls liked him. Me on the other hand, pretty much the exact opposite at 5’4 I was a skinny, pale, nerdy loser and Colin liked to make sure I knew it. Suffice to say, I wasn’t a hit with the ladies either the only time I ever asked a girl out was for a school dance and she literally laughed in my face.

As I got up and wiped the grass and dirt from my knees and palms I heard the coaches whistle blow, it was break time. all the kids rushed to the sidelines to have some food and something to drink. Every week one of the parents got the duty of providing food and drinks and just generally being around to help out during the soccer practices, this week it was my moms turn. there were two small picnic tables for everybody to eat at, I went to sit down with the one my mom was at but it was full before I got there. she looked at me and shrugged lightly, nothing to do about it, I guess I’ll have to go sit at the other table with the coach.

From where I was sitting I had a good view of my moms table, and I saw her sitting across from Colin and talking with him. all the other kids at that table were chatting amongst themselves but Colin and my mom were having a pretty involved conversation with each other. it seemed like they were having a pretty good time, they were laughing and joking together, one might even think they were flirting with each other. Why is she chatting with him? Didn’t she see what a jerk he was? didn’t she see how he tripped me during practice? he did stuff like that all the time but I was always too ashamed to tell her about it. Then I noticed something else, he reached over the table and casually put his hand on top of hers. I expected her to pull away immediately and say something but she didn’t instead she looked down at his hand, looked up at him and blushed she looked almost bashful. he pulled his hand away before anybody noticed or it became uncomfortable and continued chatting up my mom.

I didn’t understand. I was so angry and jealous, I loved my mom so much, he didn’t deserve any of her tenderness. She was the picture of beauty, flowing blonde hair, blue eyes, tall and shapely only 36 but she looked 25, as a matter of fact, Colin looked more like her son than I ever did. I must admit, I thought about her sexually sometimes, she was the only woman who ever really showed me any affection. the girls at school where always so mean she wasn’t like them at all, she was sweet and kind and caring she wouldn’t fall for a guy like him, she was probably just being polite I thought to myself. Break time ended soon and we all headed back out to the field to continue practice after a short time I noticed Colin wasn’t around doing any drills. I looked over at the coach who was fast asleep in the sun with a newspaper over his face. where did he go? I thought, but quickly pushed that thought out of my mind who cares? he probably ditched, at least he’s gone.

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