Game Over. Game On - Sex Stories

Game Over. Game On

Late season games of rugby had always been a killer. Between the hot or ‘close’ weather of the Spring and the fatigue of a long season having set in, tired bodies were ready for the end of season and the break that it would bring, and this, my last ever game, had been no exception. At thirty seven my best years on the pitch had long gone and I thought that now was a good time to call it quits. Squinting into the bright May skies, I congratulated myself on that decision. I was lying on my back, having just missed taking a scoring pass whilst the opposition had intercepted the ball and taken play some fifty metres away up field. It had been an easy going, friendly game, as most second string games were at this time of year, and I lay there away from any of the sparse crowd, blowing out of my arse and laughing to myself. My hands rested on my chest, which rose and fell rapidly with a mix of heavy breathing and quiet chuckles. In the distance I could hear our old baggage man mocking and berating me from across the park, which served only to increase the laughter. No matter what he said, I was in no rush to “get off my arse!” As I lay there, a shadow fell over my face and I twisted my head slightly to take in the female form that stood across me on the touchline where my head lay. A pair of low cut boots on bare, lithe, delicately muscled legs that led up into a knee length skirt. Between the bright skies and the dark shadow therein, I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I caught the ...

... glimpse of the naked flesh continuing to where the legs met. I shot around onto my stomach and raised myself up on my hands to look up at the woman who stood before me. The hair was as dark and as well styled as I’d recalled. The pixie like features; a small mouth and button nose were the same, with just slight wrinkling. I couldn’t see the eyes as they were hidden behind a large pair of sunglasses which covered half her face, but I was sure they’d be the same gorgeous, deep emerald that they were all those years ago. I rose slowly to my feet and watched her pretty mouth purse and skew to the right into that sexy grin of hers. From somewhere in the distance I caught the sound of the referee blowing the final whistle. I stood to my full height and though only a foot or so taller, towered over her diminutive form. “Katja!” I said, bemused, “My god, how are you? What are you doing here?” “I’m very well thank you, Simon,” She replied removing her shades. Her smile widened as she continued. “I see you haven’t lost it then?!” I grinned broadly. “Oh you know what they say; you don’t lose what you never had!” “Oh I don’t know. You’re still as handsome as ever. And fit!” I smirked. “I take it that you’re not referring to my physicality but rather my physique? The mind is willing, but the body is arguing the toss these days” “Ooooh, I don’t know,” she said, drawing the words out, smiling. My mouth curled into a smile as I looked down at her. She must have been forty-six. My mind raced ...