We shook on the wager at the overcrowded bar, hands sticking together the way our shoes stuck to the beer-soaked floor, every step a little obscene. Several pints in already. Competition made us horny, alcohol made us cocky, and eight months into whatever this was, foolish wasn’t exactly a warning either of us heeded anymore.
We’d met in a coed rec soccer league the fall before. She played center mid like she had a grudge against the ball, slide-tackled harder than half the guys on the pitch, and elbowed me in the ribs the first night we spoke, laughing the whole time. That scrappy, take-no-prisoners energy did something to me I never got over. Half Mexican on her mom’s side, summers in Michoacán and school years in the States, she’d picked her football loyalties accordingly: El Tri over the Three Lions, no matter how many years she’d lived stateside. We’d been sleeping together on and off since the league ended. No labels, no drama, just an understanding that when the timing lined up, it lined up.
We pregamed for hours over a game of Cricket, throwing darts and throwing shade. The tension between Liliana and me climbed with every missed shot.
She was a fucking vision tonight. Red hair piled high in a messy bun with loose strands stuck to her neck from the heat of the crowd. I believe I caught a hint of a mark at her jaw, half-hidden by loose curls. Something stirred in me briefly, but was soon replaced by her green jersey clinging to full breasts. Thin fabric, and her nipples hardened every time she caught me staring. Tiny soccer shorts rode high on her thick tanned thighs. She moved with that loose, confident sway that only comes from being a little drunk and a lot reckless.
The same competitive swagger she carried onto a pitch, just translated to a bar floor. She’d always liked being watched, and tonight there were plenty of eyes. I don’t think she minded.
A guy in an England kit sidled up while she was retrieving darts, said something I couldn’t hear over the crowd. She laughed in that easy, generous laugh she gave everyone. But then he leaned in closer, hand finding the small of her back like he had any right to it.
I didn’t like it. Told myself I didn’t have a reason not to.
She said something back, brief, and turned to walk away from him, back toward me, without so much as a glance behind her. He didn’t get the hint fast enough and called after her. She ignored him.
“Friend of yours?” I asked when she reached the board.
“Never seen him before in my life.” She pulled her darts free, not even bothering to look back at him. “Jealous?”
“Course not.”
“Liar.” She grinned, but there was something pleased underneath it. Something she wanted me to see.
I shrugged and called a single 17.
“You’re gripping that dart awfully tight,” she purred, leaning in close enough that I could smell her perfume under the hops of her IPA. “Wonder what else you grip like that…”
“Dammit!” I cut her some side-eye.
“What? Just keeping it friendly.” She hip-checked me, pressing her body against mine for a second longer than necessary.
“Mmm-hmm,” I sighed. Lined up my next shot.
“Keep staring at the board like that and I’m gonna start imagining you on your knees looking up at me instead.” She pushed her tits together and she tipped back her pint, dark eyes locked on me over the rim.
“Oh, Jesus!” I grinned, missing again. “You’re up.”
She closed one eye, swayed a little from the pints, then lined it up. Her jersey rode up showing a flash of soft stomach.
I just wanted to take a nibble.
“Double 16.” She pumped her wrist to fake me out.
“God, you look so adorable when you try to focus,” I teased.
A flush crept up her neck before she recovered. “You look so cute when you’re trying not to get hard in public,” she shot back, laughing rough and teasing.
Her dart sank into the surround, completely missing the board. “Fuck off!” She blew me a kiss.
We were there to watch the World Cup match between England and Mexico. It was always more lively to cheer with a crowd. We didn’t realize the game kicked-off until the first shouts at the ref roared through the bar.
“Still wanna throw, or should we go watch the match?” I went to the board to retrieve our darts.
“How about we settle this game real quick?”
“We still have several spots to close,” I whined.
“Yeah, I see that.” She crossed to the scoreboard and erased it.
“Wait, what are you doing?” I threw my hands up, exasperated.
“Whoever hits the bull, or comes closest, wins.” She strutted back. “And whoever loses buys the next round.”
“Fair enough.” I couldn’t take my eyes off her breasts. “Ladies first.”
She stepped up. Shook those sexy hips. Squinted adorably as she aimed.
“If you make this throw I’ll lick your pussy tonight… but we both know you’re gonna miss, don’t we?”
“Careful,” she said, not even looking at me. “That’s a much better bet than a round of beer. I’m holding you to it.”
She hit the green of the bull. “¡Así se hace!” She jumped up and down, cheeks glowing from the pints. Her tits bouncing. Her jersey rode all the way up. Those thighs, fuck. Most of the bar was watching her, and those that weren’t, well, they certainly noticed her now.
“Better get that mouth ready, bitch!” She slid out of the way.
I stepped up, smirking, shaking my head.
“Go on, throw it. I’ll just stand here looking like this while you try to shoot your shot.” She stood off to the side. Elbow on the high bar. Ass out. Shorts cradled her soft crescents.
I shouldn’t have looked at friends this way. We always rode the sexual tension until we were exhausted.
Right as I threw… she dropped something… lip gloss? Bent down to pick it up, showing me her delicious ass. Shorts rode up between her thighs. I could see the puffy outline of her pussy.
Of course I missed.
I missed the entire fucking board. The dart bounced off the surround and skidded to a stop at her feet. There I stood, smelling like IPAs and bad bets.
“C’mon!” She grabbed my hand. “Buy me a beer, loser.”
She pulled me up to the crowded bar. The men parted like a sea of horny sheep. Her hips swayed and swung onto a barstool. Liliana got all the attention. The bartender pulled 2 pints.
I stood behind her, leaning on the stool. I put my nose in her hair, and that’s when I confirmed it: a faint bruise-purple mark just under her jaw, half-hidden by loose curls. Fresh. Not mine.
Something ugly and unearned flexed in my chest. We didn’t do exclusive. We’d never once pretended otherwise. That didn’t stop the twist in my gut.
“What the fuck are you doing?” She twisted around, a flush climbing her face before she caught herself.
“Sorry, I just love the way you smell.” My snarky tone tried to compensate for embarrassment, and for the question I wasn’t going to ask.
“Stop it,” she hissed, but there was a laugh underneath it. She swatted my chest, then ran her fingers through her chaotic red curls. The movement conveniently covered her neck. “You’re being weird tonight. Sniffing me like I’m the only thing on the menu.”
She leaned back, arched enough to push her tits against the tight green jersey. The bartender slid the two fresh IPAs across the bar. Liliana took a mouthful. Eyes locked on me the whole time.
“But keep doing it and I might let you do a lot more than ‘smell me later’.” She grinned. “If Mexico doesn’t fuck you over first.”
“Mexico? Bitch please. England is going to dominate your ass.”
“¿Qué dijiste, hombrecito?” She spun back to the match, with a warm laugh. “England dominate my ass? Oh baby, that’s cute.” She chuckled, grinding against my crotch. “Keep dreaming.”
I reached across her to grab my pint. She swayed her hips on the stool again. Deliberately. She let her ass brush the front of my shorts as I leaned in.
She tortured me just enough to make it obvious. Then she turned her head, her lips brushed my ear. “You’re really pressing your luck right now, you know that?”
She took a lingering sip. Reached back with one hand to pat my thigh. “Feeling a little bold with that chub poking me?”
I nearly choked. I definitely sputtered in my suds.
“Keep talking your big England shit and I’m gonna make you watch the whole match with my hand down your pants…” Her hand moved up, dangerously close to my now swelling cock. “Just to see how long you last before begging me to stop.”
She turned back to the TV, but kept her ass pressed against me, swaying with the crowd noise.
My cock responded in kind. She knew it. I’m sure the whole bar knew it.
“Care to make this game a little more interesting?” I breathed in her ear. “Feel that?”
Now I was nestled between her cheeks through our shorts.
“Of course I can feel that.” Her voice, husky. “Whole bar probably feels it. You’re not so subtle.”
Her hand reached back. Squeezed my thigh again. Nails dug in this time. “Make things more interesting, huh?” She turned her head. Wicked little smirk. Her eyes sparked with challenge and heat.
“Careful what you wish for, England boy… Señor Inglaterra himself. You sure you can handle what I’d do to you if Mexico wins?” She squeezed and let go. Stopped swiveling. Stopped teasing.
“Baby, don’t get so attached to your ego.” I took a pull from my pint. “When England puts Mexico in the dirt, you’re gonna be on your knees for me all night.”
“Huh, countless pints in and you’re still picking England?” She looked evil, that flush from the drinks settled in now. “Bold. Hope you like the taste of disappointment… and my pussy, because that’s all you’re getting when I win.”
“Bet’s on, loser.” I spun her to face me. Offered my hand. “When my boys win, I’m using that pretty mouth of yours however I want.” We shook. Cold. Firm. “You’re gonna thank me for it.”
“Ohhh, using my pretty mouth however you want?” She leaned in. “Bold, baby. Real bold. You better hope England shows up tonight… porque, si el Tri gana. And they will! I’m gonna ride your face until you forget your name. Then I’m going to bounce on your cock until you’re begging me to cum.” She was soooo close to my ear. She licked my lobe. “And I’m going to deny you.”
She pulled back. Looked me dead in the eye, still holding my hand. “Bet’s on.” She gave one last firm squeeze. “Loser.” Tossed her curls in my face as she turned back to the TV.
I took another long swig. Too unnerved to look around. I wasn’t sure this was the right thing to do… fucking like this with my bestie. I eased off her ass, trying to catch my breath, post-flirt clarity slowly sinking in.
We watched, yelled, and cussed the refs with the whole bar. It was neatly divided. As the half-time whistle blew, Liliana swiveled back around, her thighs cradled me.
“Half-time.” She smirked, eyes sparkling with mischief. “My place or yours?”
“You sure you still wanna do this?” I wasn’t entirely sure myself. My cock was sure, though. Still hadn’t settled all the way down.
“Chickening out already?!” Her thighs squeezed me tighter. Her calves locked me in.
“Okay. Let’s finish this at your place. I want you on the couch when I win this bet.”
She laughed. “Cocky fucker! Vámonos, ya.” She popped off the stool, pulled me in for a messy kiss. Her hoppy tongue all over mine. Her hand boldly squeezed my cock through my shorts right there at the bar.
Shocked. Embarrassed. Thrilled. I pulled back. She gripped my shirt collar, lips still brushing mine. “My place. Now! I want to watch this half with your hand between my legs!”
I pulled her through the exit. Our tension was thick enough to embarrass the Uber driver, especially when her hand kept wandering back to my lap the whole ride.
Liliana hurried to her door. I couldn’t tell if she wanted to get back to the game or get in my shorts. Either way, we were all over each other once we tumbled inside and kicked the door closed.
She pushed me onto the couch. Grabbed the remote, flicked on the TV, and straddled my lap.
Seven minutes into the second half, England up 2-1. Mexico brought the ball up the pitch. She ground against me, her soaked shorts sliding on my bare thighs. Her hands tangled in my hair, pulling me into a kiss.
England intercepted. The announcers went nuts. I slid my hand between her thighs. Teased her clit, rubbing firm circles over the damp fabric. She moaned into my mouth. Pressed her hips harder against the flat meat of my palm, grinding down like she was trying to fuck my hand through the cloth.
England’s striker took a shot. It hit the goalpost. Damnit!
“I’m going to use that slutty mouth when England scores.”
“That’s what you think.” She bit my lower lip. “You can’t use anything until the game’s decided.”
Mexico’s goalie kicked the ball long. Her hands grabbed my cock through my shorts, stroking me with long teases. “Hmmmmm. Someone really likes the game we’re playing,” she hummed, kissing me again, her palm rubbing the full length of my aching shaft.
My cock throbbed under her touch, trapped and leaking. I wanted to unbutton and pull free. I wanted to feel her skin. My hands went for my shorts. She swatted them away.
“No. No. No.” She purred, hot and cruel. “We’re not going there until the final whistle. And who knows? You may not even get to use that nice package you’ve got.”
“God, this isn’t fair.” I whined, hips writhing uselessly under her. The ache in my chest was brutal. Her grinding on me, hand stroking me through my shorts, knowing I couldn’t do anything more until the game was decided. Every time Mexico had the ball she owned me. Every time England pushed forward I got a taste of control, only for her to take it right back.
She kept rolling her hips, slow and filthy. Soaked shorts slid over my throbbing bulge. The fabric between us was exquisite torture. I could feel how wet she was. She could feel how hard I was. And I couldn’t do a damn thing about it except sit there and take it.
Mexico pushed forward again. She smiled against my mouth and slipped her hand inside my shorts, wrapping her fingers around my bare cock for the first time. She stroked. Thumb teased my leaking head.
“Poor baby,” she taunted, all sweet and mean. “So hard for me already and you still think England’s gonna save you? Look at you weeping all over my fingers, so desperate.”
England won the ball back. I pulled her shorts aside and slid two fingers inside her, curling them against that spot that made her thighs shake. She gasped, hips bucking against my hand.
“Fuck… that’s it,” she moaned, but she didn’t stop stroking me. “You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want to win.”
The back-and-forth went on like this for long, agonizing minutes. Every time Mexico had possession she owned my cock, stroking, edging, whispering filthy promises about how she was going to ride my face until I couldn’t breathe. Every time England pushed forward I fingered her harder, rubbed her clit, told her exactly how I was going to use her mouth when the game was over.
By the time the match hit the 70th minute we were both panting, clothes half-off, bodies sliding against each other. I wanted her so badly, hating how much power she had over me, yet loving every cruel second of it.
England scored from the spot. 3-1. “Your throat is gonna be so sore,” I growled, lightly choking her.
Right then, Mexico scored from a penalty, setting us up 3-2. She gripped my cock head tight, nails digging in. “¡No mames! I’m going to leave you so desperate,” she gritted her teeth.
The match settled at 3-2, my favor.
“Game’s over,” I boasted, plucking her off my lap and plopping her beside me on the couch. I stood in front of her and pulled my cock free. It sprang from my shorts and hit her nose.
“Open, loser.” I grabbed the back of Liliana’s head, shoving my cock deep down her throat. She spasmed around it. Gagged. Drool spilled from her chin. “That’s it. Take every inch. You’ve been begging for this since half-time.”
I held her there. Nose against pubic bone. Her breathing stifled. Her soft gags. Then she relaxed. “That’s right, breathe through it. Good girl.” I pulled her head deeper onto me.
I eased out with one long slide against her tongue. Forced her head down. “Suck my balls. Get them nice and wet.”
She licked, lapped, and took my heavy sack into her mouth. “Mmm, your balls taste so good,” she moaned between licks. I thumped my cock across her forehead. Started rocking my hips. Her tongue swirled my taint and ass.
“Yesss. Worship them like you mean it.”
I reached down, pulled her jersey up. Her full breasts sandwiched between the rolled-up top and a push-up bra, red lace and satin, large flower patterns over her nipples. I pinched hard and pulled. Slapped her. Painted her heaving chest pink.
When I bent to bite the curve of her neck, I bit down harder than I needed to, right over where that other mark was.
She yelped and whined between my legs. “Fuck… yes, slap my tits harder, please,” she gasped. I took her by the hair, pulled her back.
“I’m going to use every inch of you tonight. You’re going to beg me for more before I’m done.”
Her eyes watery. Her expression, empty with lust.
“Let’s go to your room.” I hauled her up. “I have ideas.”
I grabbed her wrists and guided her back to her room. Threw her on the bed. She landed all bounce and bounty. I kicked my shorts off at the dresser. Rummaged the drawers. Silks. Satin. Scarves.
“A horny slut like you has gotta have toys in here somewhere.” I searched. “Where are they?”
“Middle drawer. Left side.” She sounded as if she was still in a stupor.
“Bingo.” I found the Hitachi Wand first, tossed it on the bed. Kept digging. My hand caught something fuzzy — pink, soft, unmistakable. “Ohhh. Fuzzy cuffs. Nice.” I pulled them free.
“Yeah, I think that’s everything,” she slurred. Her face flushed. Her nipples, puffy and pink.
“I don’t think so…” My fingers closed on thick silicone. I pulled out a long, girthy dildo. “I always suspected you were into BBC,” I teased.
“Hey! I…” Liliana tried to reconcile my assumptions.
I tossed it. It landed beside her thigh. I stepped bedside, surveying my selections.
“Let’s start with these.” I grabbed the fuzzy cuffs. The pink matched the little bird patterns on her comforter. I pushed her back, straddled her chest, and secured her wrists to the bedframe. “Spreading your legs before I’ve gotten there? You really did want to lose.”
I took one of the scarves, folded it over several times, wrapped it around her head as a blindfold.
“That’ll do nicely,” I praised. I stepped back and watched her. Sightless, listening, trying to track me by sound. “Hey, Lil, how many cocks am I holding up?”
“You’re such a dork!” She squirmed, head turning toward my voice, then away, guessing wrong. “I can’t see shit… this is so unfair.”
“That’s the point.” I let my voice come from the other side of the bed instead.
She tried her best to follow my movements as I ransacked her dresser.
Something clinked. Something else buzzed, once. Just testing. She flinched at both.
“You’re already soaked.” My fingers found the waistband of her soccer shorts. I yanked them mid-thigh, cupped her mound as she writhed against me. My fingertips teasing her asshole. I let my voice breathe next to her ear — she hadn’t heard me move, and her whole body jolted at the closeness she didn’t see coming. “You want this more than you’re letting on, don’t you.”
I slapped her swollen labia several times.
Her nipples, taut, poking through the lace. I took one in my mouth while my fingers delved oh so easily into her sopping cunt. Three fingers. Knuckle deep. I slipped in a fourth for good measure.
“Someone’s been keeping herself warmed up,” I said as her hips rolled. I didn’t have to move my hand. I let her fuck herself on my fingers. I bit her nipple hard. Pulled with my teeth. Watched her mouth open. Breath labored.
She whimpered. “Fuck… please don’t stop… I’m so close… I need to cum so bad… please let me cum…”
I sensed that she was about to break. Small flutters along her wet walls. A tinge of tremble in her thighs.
I stopped. Pulled my fingers free. Loosed her tit from my teeth.
She whined loud. “Nooo… please… ay dios mío, I was right there, you asshole! Don’t stop… I need it…”
I brought my glistening fingers to her mouth. Her lips already parted. Expecting them. Lili sucked hard and fast. “Clean up your mess,” I groaned as her tongue swirled around them. “That’s it. Every drop.”
Pulled her hair so her head hinged back and replaced my fingers with my cock. Pushed it deep again. I lived for that gag she made. Choked her to feel my cock slide in and out.
“Look at you,” I told her. “Ruined and you love it.”
I thrust. Picked up the pace. Felt precum leak. My balls tighten.
Nope. Not yet.
I pulled my glistening length from her hungry mouth. Strands of drool followed the tip between us. Then maneuvered to grab her BBC dildo. Held its heft in my hands. It was thicker and longer than my cock.
“You think I’m intimidated?” I asked this more to myself than her. She had no idea. She couldn’t see anything. I slapped her face with it. She opened her mouth and pushed her tongue out. I tapped her lip while pulling her bra up, bunching it with her jersey under her chin.
I slid my spit covered cock between her massive tits. Used my legs to squeeze them together.
She started sucking her dildo as I fucked her bouncing breasts. “Mmmph… it’s so fucking thick,” she moaned around the silicone. I slapped and pulled her tits as my shaft slipped in their valley.
“There she is,” I said, watching her throat work around it. “My good girl.”
She moaned around the shaft. I watched her mouth hinge wider. Her cheeks hollowed out as she sucked. “Fuck… I love sucking cock for you,” she gasped when I pulled it out for a second.
I slid down, teased her swollen clit with my cock. My precum strings threaded between us.
“You’re on the pill, right?”
“Mmmm-hmmm,” she mumbled and nodded. “Please… just fuck me already. I need your cock so bad… please fill me up.”
I entered her with one easy thrust. Her hot slick slit engulfed me. I was balls deep. Just held there. Watching her hips roll desperately.
“Not so cocky now,” I taunted, “with my cock buried in you and nowhere to go.”
Flicking on the Wand, I buzzed her clit while I angled my cock to hit her sweet spot.
“¡Dios mío, sí—don’t stop!” she cried. “I’m coming so fucking hard on your dick!”
She came immediately.
Multiples. Shuddering, whimpering mess. I didn’t let up either. I turned the Wand up. Her whole body couldn’t stop shaking and her cunt kept spasming around me. “I’m cumming again… oh god I’m cumming so hard on you! Don’t stop using me!”
“That’s it,” I growled. “Give me another one. I want you soaked before I’m done with you.”
I pulled out. Grabbed the dildo from beside her head. Rolled her over. She had to twist her upper body from being in the cuffs.
I hoisted her hips up. Spread her ass. Spit. Tongued her puckering starfish as she squirmed under me. I spit again and worked two, then three fingers into her ass.
I sucked her clit and swollen lips while my fingers lubed and loosened her up.
I knelt behind her. Teased her cunt with her BBC. Her white cream coating the fake cock. Blindfolded, she could only feel both and try to guess which was which. I eased the dildo’s head into her ass. Taking my time. She met me, easing back. Watching it disappear inch by inch. Once she seemed comfortable, I began gradually fucking her ass, getting her good and limbered and stretched.
“Look at you take it,” I praised. “Stretched and still asking for more.”
“Fuck… it’s so big,” she moaned into the pillow. “Slow… please slow… oh god that feels so fucking good in my ass…”
I pressed the toy balls deep. Then teased her cunt with my own cock. I knew she’d dreamt about DP. I eased back inside her soaked pussy, working my way deeper while the toy stayed buried in her ass. The feeling was incredible. I could feel the silicone shaft slide against my own. A mere muscular wall separated us.
I picked up the pace. Watching it all. Mentally recording this for numerous jerkoff sessions that would follow.
“You’re mine right now,” I grunted, watching her come apart under both. “Every inch of you.”
She started coming again. This time was more severe than with my shaft and the Wand. Her whole body convulsed. “I’m cumming so fucking hard—don’t stop—please don’t stop! Use me!” Her screams rattled the windows.
I could sense I was close.
“Do you want my cum in you?”
“Yes, come in me please! I want your load. I want to feel you explode in me. Give me your cum! Fill me up!” she begged, voice broken.
My balls tightened. I felt the precum release first, then an enormous orgasm hit. Waves washed over me as I erupted inside. Filling her spasming cunt with my seed.
I collapsed on her back. Still buried in her cunt. Dildo languidly slipped out of her ass.
“Fuck, using you was amazing,” I sighed into her damp curls matted on her back.
I uncuffed her wrists and removed the blindfold. She blinked dreamily, eyes glassy, face flushed. The room came back into focus. I pulled her into my arms, holding her close as the room settled around us: the rumpled comforter, the scattered toys, the faint smell of sex still hanging in the air.
She curled into me, one leg thrown over mine, her head on my chest. For a long moment we just breathed together, her fingers tracing lazy circles on my skin.
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” she murmured, voice hoarse and soft. “I’ve never been so happy to have lost a bet.”
I laughed quietly, stroking her hair. “Yeah… me neither.”
She tilted her head up, eyes meeting mine with that familiar mix of mischief and something deeper, warmer. For once, neither of us felt the need to fill the silence with more words.
I kissed her forehead and held her a little tighter.
One weekend, I made a friendly wager with Spicypancake on the England vs Mexico match.
Sorry, fellow kinksters, this was a rather safe bet. No sexy breasts coming at you like the deal made with Scarlett (Smutty) Simmons (SWOON!)😍
This one was - loser writes a story / winner picks the plot.
Spicy won and she wants the character tied up, blindfolded, and “her pleasure controlled.”
Thanks to Spicypancake for the bet and the plot idea - and some feedback.
A massive thank you to Claire Torquil♡ for her detailed line-edits!
i would love to be a submissive slut for 1 day
mixing sports and sex what could be better? sex and more sex!