I was always under the impression that soccer is more *foot*ball than football is football, since in soccer the majority of the team are prohibited from using their hands, and in American football the majority of the team is allowed, even encouraged to use their hands. So it should actually be called handball, while soccer is called football, except handball is another sport altogether...anyway. This is a rather short project that I did, I kind of like it though since athletic girls are my type. Let me know if you guys want to extent the series.
Background: Tara, the college team's top female soccer star, is in the locker room preparing for her final game of the season. The Cheetahs are on a tear, having gone undefeated through the regular season on their way to the championship game. Ambitious and enthusiastic, Tara was the leading scorer and recognized voice of the team. She wanted nothing more than to show off her skills to the world, and being her final season, she was more than ready for the big stage. In comes Coach Mark, the head coach of the team and longtime friend and mentor to Tara.
Tara: What's up coach? We ready to roll?
Mark: Tara, this is your big moment. Are you ready?
Tara: Yeah, I'm down boss. You know you can count on me. Go Cheetahs!
Tara: Coach, shouldn't you get dressed? Kickoff's in fifteen minutes.
Mark: Tara...I've known you ever since you enrolled here. I've watched you grow and mature in a fine young woman. But I need to know if I can trust you.
Tara: ...What do you mean? I've been your favorite player for years now. You know you can trust me.
Mark: Yes. But I need you to perform a simple act to show me that trust one last time.
Tara: Sure, what is it?
Mark: I need you to give me a blowjob.
Mark: On your knees.
Tara: What...? Are you...this is crazy! Are you drunk?
Mark: No, I mean it. And if you resist, I'm afraid I'm going to have to remove you from the game.
Tara: What? No! You can't do this to me...I'm going to call the police!
Mark: Sure, you can go to the cops. Tell your family, tell your friends, hell, tell the world what I said. But you won't be able to prove it. And you'll
miss the biggest opportunity of your life for nothing.
Tara: Wha...why are you doing this to me? I'm the team leader, you can't replace me!
Mark: Oh please, you think I give a damn about who wins this game? I've had the hots for you for four years, Tara. For four years I've had to live a lie, pretend that you're just a friend, just another player. Tara...I have a family, too. I don't want to take away your virginity, although I'm sure you've probably already given it away. You're leaving after this game Tara...and I just want a simple favor.
Tara: This is sick, get away from me!
Mark: You really want to assault me, Tara? Assault your head coach moments before the championship game? Think about what you have to lose, think about what you have to give up.
Mark: You know I'm right, Tara. I'm not a bad person, just a normal red blooded man. Give up, Tara, it will be over before you know it.
Mark: Go ahead and take off your socks and shoes. The quicker you do this, the quicker we can move on.
Tara: You're a sick fuck.
Mark: Good. Now...get on your knees.
Tara: This is so wrong...
Mark: Just close your eyes and it will be okay. Just imagine I'm your boyfriend.
Tara: ...I don't have a boyfriend. Just get it over with.
Mark: Close your eyes and open your mouth. There, now think of pleasant moments, think of the beach.
Mark: Suck it, Tara, love my manhood. You see Tara, it's all about trust. You need to show me that I can trust you.
Mark: Ohh yeah...swallow it, Tara. Swallow all of my seed, show your undying trust for your coach.
Mark: Good girl...good girl...
Mark: Good job, Tara. You were more amazing than I had imagined. Now just forget this ever happened and move on.
Mark: Stop crying. Clean yourself up and get dressed. You have two minutes.