The Beautiful Game: Part II

everyday snapshot - II

I met a Brazilian girl once.

Serendipity rolled the dice and during my travels I was gifted the opportunity to meet a true Brazilian  beauty. It was a whirlwind relationship that  felt like a lifetime; but was actually only 48 hours. Thanks to stereotypes I had been fed, and I devoured, my expectations were sky high. Additionally I was so wrapped up in the excitement of the moment, that I imagined the relationship would undoubtedly conclude in a lust-filled explosion of passion before we parted our separate ways.

Well it concluded. 

The reality fell flat. 

As it turned out I had met a devout Brazilian Mormon.

A parting hug in public was perceived as risque.

……......

Well the World Cup is deep in the middle of the initial matches and we still have a long way to go. Technically we are not even at the halfway point of initial matches played.
Has anyone else been watching? Are you converted yet?

RANDOM FUN FACT

In this World Cup, Italy alone has over 1,0233 passes attempted.

Thus far.

And some of those have actually been on the field!

Ha ha- Get it?!

Still don't get it?

Passes = soccer ball passes; passes at girls...

I know. Lame joke, but I made it up myself.

Well, if Soccer is not your thing, remember there is plenty of action off the field as well.

Here is another little video related to The Beautiful Game, that should make you all smile. (Speaking of, did the previous video make anyone smile besides me?)

……......

Question for the Day: Who's ready to get in on some World Cup action?
Happy Friday!

The Beautiful Game

everyday snapshot

I used to coach soccer. 

4 seasons. Short lived by most standards.

Apparently unbeknownst to me, my career was more prolific than I ever thought. 

How so? How could I not be aware of my own success?

My coaching days ended for various reasons, but to no apparent fan fare. I do not remember any tears being shed, nor a standing ovation as I walked off the field on my last game. (OK to be honest, I may have shed a tear internally; hidden from all. A solitary tear big enough to warm my cold dark heart.)

So why do I now think my career was more prolific than I imagined? Easy.

On two different, but recent occasions, I ran into two young moms who remembered me "when". Random chance meetings in the convenience store, but they shared the same excitement upon this chance encounter.

I was shocked. Shocked by the facts that:

1) I was immediately recognized,

2) and that the first question out of their lovely mouths (technically the second, if you count the obligatory 'How are Youuu?")  was, "Do you still coach soccer?" 

The conversation hardly drifted, thanks to them, and remained on the topic of those days:

"I luuuved watching you coach! I used to show up early just to watch you warm up the team! It was so cool to watch you play!" 

They both carried on in similar fashion, but one obviously was still very enthusiastic.

"Do you still coach soccer? It looks like you do. Look at you" Followed by a slap on my arm and  a nervous school-girlesque rambling monologue orchestrated by a finger twirling of hair.

"If you still practice maybe you should call me. I would love to do some laps with you.

Or I can retrieve your balls for you; I am good at that"

Perhaps you get the picture.

I had no idea.

……......

Well the World Cup started yesterday; which if you are outside of the US you are well aware of. If you are in the US, you are probably asking yourself, what exactly is the World Cup?

Kidding.

Sort-of.

Not really.

Okay, you don't have to know much about what is often referred to as The Beautiful Game, but in keeping with current events and the themes of this blog, here is a little video that should make you all smile nonetheless.

……......

Question for the Day: Who's up for a game of soccer now?

Definition: Top Logic

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top noun log•ic noun

: When a dominant partner attempts to explain to a young lady the reason for providing systematic firm correction of incipient failures after they occur, but prior to developing into major defects. - author: Enzo Man

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"But why do you want to spank me, I didn't do anything wrong this morning?!" she daringly interrupted, wincing her face while half looking away in apparent dread of my response.

"You still fail to understand. You have no one to blame but yourself. This is your own fault!"

"Bb..butt...I didn't do anything wrong today!" she pouted.

"That is exactly the problem Young Lady! You didn't do anything you should have done. Where did I find you this morning after I came back from my run?"

"Umm...but I 'm dressed now!" she pulled at the hem of her dress and almost curtsied.

"Yes, I know you are dressed now, but I asked you a specific question. Where did I find you this morning after I came back from my run?"

"I wasn't in bb...ed," she stuttered staring at the still unmade bed over my shoulder, "I was up already. Gettin' dressed."

"Really? Were you? I think you got up the minute you heard me walk back in the door. Doesn't matter..." Waving off the details with a hand gesture, I tried to remain focused "Where should you have been?"

"I don't know," my Young Bride sputtered out a reply, "But, look I'm wearing your favorite pink panties though" as she moved down to pick up her dress. I intercepted her wrist and continued with the questioning.

"You don't know?
Where was I this morning? 
I was on my run.
Where should you have been?"

I pulled her close to where I was sitting; guiding her to the right of my legs. She resisted with minimal effort as if already coming to terms with her fate; merely slowed by the traction of her heels against the rug. 

"You should have been running with me. Keeping your promise to yourself."

I explained while reaching under her dress and latching onto the thin waistband of her panties. Her hands instinctually pushed against my arm and I shot her a warning look.

She retreated her hands and looked away with an exaggerated gesture, crossing her arms in defiance; freeing my hands to tug her cheeky panties down to her mid-thighs.

"You should have been toning that ass. Instead I am going to do it for you now!"

I pulled her over my lap with minimal effort, flipped her dress up and had her bottom displayed within seconds.

 
"And another thing – Do you know what I saw on my run? Do you?" I asked as I smoothed the bulkiness of her dress down over her back.

She didn't respond, instead focused on her struggle to keep balance over my lap. Her balance further thrown off by her panties, wrapped tightly around her pale thighs, constraining her leg movements while her heavy heels weighed down her feet.

"I asked you a question," I insisted giving her pantieless ass an initial motivational slap. 

"Oww!" she looked over her shoulder anxiously, "I. Don't. Know."

"I saw all these girls running and working out. In yoga pants. Tight yoga pants. One girl in yoga pants so tight I could see..."

"Ohhh...Owww" my Bride squirmed as I explained what I saw as my fingers slowly, but firmly traced the line between her perky cheeks and then sunk in. 

"I ran behind that girl... watching her ass bounce with every single step. We ended up at the end of the trail together and guess what? It was Amanda."

"Amanda! Amanda who?" 

"Amanda who? How many Amanda's do you know? Your friend Amanda." I answered, slapping my Bride's bottom again.

"Oww! Ohh my gawd, what was she doing there?!"

"Working out of course! She asked about you; why you weren't running with me. I told her you like to sleep in. And then do you know what she said? Do you?!"

"She tells me in her sexy raspy voice, 

                 'That's a shame Michele doesn't like to come with you. 

It's so nice here in the morning. I am sure you appreciate the view.'

She smiles her devilish smile and purposely proceeds to bend over in front of me and begin to stretch!"

"Ohh my gawd, that bitch!" she squealed attempting to push up off my lap.

"Do you know what I wanted to do? Do you?"
I pushed my young Bride back down on my lap and wrapped my left arm around her waist in order to secure my overall grip.

"For a start, I wanted to pull those skin tight yoga pants down and spank her ass... Before taking her right then and there in the park! "

"Lucky for you, I didn't give into her flirting. 
This wouldn't have happened if you were there. If you were running today; with me.  
Since you weren't with me to keep her from flirting. And since I have all this built up frustration now; I'll have to teach your ass a serious lesson!"

"Noo! Wait..."

I began with a quick delivery of five solid spanks in rapid succession guaranteeing that her cheeks would quiver long after I'd stop.

"Owww! Stop! Ow! Ow!  Oh my gawd! Owww! I didn't do 'nny...thingg!""

"That's what I keep telling you. You didn't do anything you should have done. You earned this. To be clear, this is just a warm up. Your cute, untanned, tight ass is going to get a complete and thorough workout when I am done with you!"

I steadied her and then began a thunderstorm of firm spanking on her blushing bottom.

Slap. Smack. Slap. The sound of dry skin being slapped rising louder and louder with every spank until reaching a crescendo of blubbering tears.

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Hope you enjoyed this latest edition of Narrative Definitions. 
(Besides, I was over due on stories of the happiness that yoga pants bring to the world.) 

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