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Ah, women's college soccer. One of the most underrated sports anywhere. Just behind volleyball.
I loved it so much that I never missed a game. Never. I watched every single one.
And one of the reasons was for the hot, mature coach, Jennifer.
Jennifer was a brown-haired bombshell. Pushing 40, she had long, strong legs, nicely-tanned skin, a large bust and freckles on her face and chest.
My heart throbbed for her so hard that I could barely keep up with the game. My binoculars were always trained on her lovely, mature face and her freckled chest.
What did she look like under that sports bra of hers?
The way she smiled whenever one of her ladies hit a goal, the way she walked and even how her face contorted with barely restrained rage when something went wrong. I was infatuated with her.
But, alas, she was married to some lucky stud. She'd never fall for a guy like me, just some random guy.
My lust was unrequited.
Until now.
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