August MacGregor

Celebrating Sensuality. Intended for mature audiences, 18 and over

Goal

2 Comments

The fans throbbed and cheered. They were like a monstrous heart, pounding with passion, life. Sofia felt as if everyone in the audience around her moved as one, even the people wearing colors different than her, the fans cheering on the other team. Didn’t matter if you came to the game alone, you were a friend to anyone wearing the same colors against your skin. Or on your skin, as some had painted their bodies to show their love even closer to their hearts.

The fans thrummed as the players raced around the field, chasing the ball, dribbling it, passing it. Their lithe bodies swift with the strategic movements to maneuver around opponents. All to get the advantage and move the ball further down the field to the promised land, that vulnerable, airy net held up by a such a tiny-looking frame, a little thing compared to the huge expanse of grassy field.

All of it made Sofia breathe deeply yet quickly, her heart pulsing in tune with the crowd around her, throbbing as one huge heart. Watching the swift players move, their tremendously muscular thighs pumping up and down, up and down, rhythmically like pistons on a finely tuned machine, surging them forward throughout the field to rush past opponents, sometimes cutting directions here and there, to spin around the other players.

The fans cheered louder as the ball moved closer toward a goal, the ball getting dangerously, heart-poundingly close to the net. The ball was kicked toward it, and everyone in the stands held their breaths as one collective element. But then, the goalie snatched the ball out of the air, a strong bold grab, and the fans either gasped in relief or moaned in disappointment at the masterful save. Sofia looked at her friends around her, their eyes wide in how close that shot was, and the relief washing over them with how that goal would’ve put the other team up by a point, making the score become two to one against their team, and those hateful numbers would’ve glared at them from the scoreboard.

The goalie punted the ball back down the field, and the swarming began anew, the maneuvering of swift bodies and the pumping of those thighs Sofia found gorgeous, thighs that she fantasized about doing other movements besides this pistoning on the futbol field, walking toward her across a bedroom, approaching her as she trembled in anticipation.

Her hands slid down, across her breasts, loving the feel of her hard nipples. Part of her wished for more privacy so she could grab her breasts and feel them the way she yearned for. But more of her tingled with all the people around her, how utterly public this was, feeling lusty like this and feeling her erect nipples with no one noticing. Even part of her wishing someone did notice, to get turned on by her feeling herself.

And then, how quickly it could happen, the players rushing toward the other net, their bodies moving with finesse of quicksilver, as the ball streamed closer, closer. Some held their breaths, others shouted out their excitement, the air bristling with electricity. Every single eye in the place on the ball as it flew into the goal that it lusted after, soaring past the frame, hitting the net and stopping its flight, halting it to bring it back down to earth.

The crowd blew up, their hands over their heads, reaching for the clouds, their eyes wide and their mouths wide, for in no way could their mouths be closed when the burst of voices thundered out. As they roared, they also writhed in ecstasy, hugging each other, high-fiving each other, their faces lit up like the bright lights above the stands that turned the stadium from night into day. Here was release, a massive relief after all the heightened, pulse-thudding anticipation of watching the intricate maneuvering around the field, the players passing the ball, running with the ball, only to have it stolen away, and the frustration set it yet again. Finally, the frustration and anticipation ended. And the ending came with an eruption of orgasmic release, all the friends around Sofia going wild with excitement, their team now in the lead and the minutes dwindling down, the game bright with hope within reach.

And after that ending, another release promised to come later, with either herself if it came to that, or more hopefully with one of the handsome friends in her group, to be chosen as they went to bars and celebrated far into the night.

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Author: augustmacgregor

I'm a writer of erotica and romantic fiction.

2 thoughts on “Goal

  1. Don’t you just love World Cup season? Very nice…:)

    Like

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