Trans Soccer Boss 2

CHAPTER 1

I gazed at this wonderful man I'd wanted from the first moment I set eyes on him. “There's condoms in my bag,” I rasped, pointing to the floor.

DeShaun quickly took to the ground, rummaging through my belongings. “We'll have to be quick.”

“I don't care.” I just wanted to finally feel his black cock inside me.

“Or someone'll catch us.”

“I still don't care, DeShaun.” I stood, half-fixing my skirt yet seeing little point.

He pulled out a condom. “Sasha, everyone could walk in on us if we lose track of time.”

I strutted across the floor to him, then clutched the outline of his shaft through his jeans.

“Nothing's gonna stop us now.” I squeezed it.

It was absolutely mammoth in size. “Oh my God, DeShaun.” I hauled his top over his head and tossed it onto the floor.

“Wow.” I felt myself short of breath as I stared at his body, so dark, muscular and utterly devoid of body fat. “You're a pure athlete.”

He grinned, then took my hand. “Follow me.”

“Where to?”

“The showers.”

“The showers?” I asked.

He gently brought my lips to his, then delivered a deep, devoted kiss. “It's where I want to make love to you.” He hesitated, looking at my bag and his top on the floor. “Maybe we should bring these with us, just in case someone walks in-”

The door handle suddenly turned.

We broke apart.

The door opened.

I was certain my hair was dishevelled, my demeanour lustful and my cheeks red.

“Ms Liu?” they said. “DeShaun?”

DeShaun's biceps tensed as he shoved the unopened condom into his pocket. “Hilary?” he said coolly, as if there was nothing untoward about the team's star player being caught in the dressing room, his top off, with the club's chairperson.

“I'm sorry, I didn't think anyone'd be in here.”

“It got too much for us out there,” DeShaun continued.

Hilary was studying his upper body.

I felt more jealous than embarrassed. “How long's left?”

They hesitated.

“Hilary?” I demanded.

“About five minutes.” They looked to my clutch bag.

Five minutes, I thought, surely I could make him cum in five minutes. “What's the score?”

They looked at me in disbelief.

“Hilary?”

Their eyes darted between DeShaun's half-nakedness and my own ridiculously short skirt stance. “It's two-one, ma'am... Didn't you know?”

“Whaddayouneed, Hilary?” DeShaun asked firmly.

“Uh, my, um, usual stuff... In case there's extra-time.”

He gestured for her to get to it, as if this man owned this very room.

My knees were weak at his power. He was everything I adored in men like him. Self-assured, authoritative, handsome.

Hilary went to a locker, took their time to unlock it and began to slowly gather their things.

DeShaun exhaled.

I spied my lipstick on his lips and on the surrounding skin, leaving me in little doubt Hilary knew exactly what we were up to.

They continued to labour over the simplest task.

I figured it didn't matter if Hilary – or if anyone they told – knew.

Even if the team found an equaliser and somehow we turned this tie around in extra-time or in a penalty shoot-out, I was still firing Joe after the final whistle and putting Kyle in charge.

Nothing was going to come between DeShaun and I anymore.

“We'll leave you to it, Hilary,” DeShaun said, bending down to pick up his top.

I was speechless. What about our fuck?

He put his top back on, as if conceding defeat.

I couldn't bring myself to leave. Every part of my innards was counting on every inch of his girth sliding in and out of my tight hole.

Hilary tossed more items into a bag.

DeShaun started for the door. “Ms Liu,” he said, nodding to my clutch bag.

I reluctantly lifted it from the floor and followed him.

He held the door open for me.

I squeezed past him.

“You need to fix your skirt,” he whispered in my ear.

I glanced down, realising my panties were still in his pocket, and adjusted my skirt, trying to cloak the tip of my sex from any more onlookers.

I stood near the entrance to the tunnel, my legs tight together, watching Broxburgh win a corner as the tie entered the first of three minutes of injury time.

DeShaun had disappeared to the stand in the hopes we'd find that vital equaliser and he'd have a seat for extra-time.

I was so disappointed Hilary had interrupted us, but I tried to tell myself it was better she had then and not a couple of minutes before. I was convinced that as soon as I sacked Joe, DeShaun and I would be able to get together and he'd fuck me. Perhaps even later tonight. I couldn't wait.

Leo Martin swung the corner into Dundee United's box. It was met by the head of substitute Stephen MacKenzie who powered it wide.

United took their time with the goal kick, eventually pummelling the ball back into our half. Fraser Martin won the header, but the ball bounced to a United player who was happy to pass back and hold up possession in their own half.

The home fans were frustrated, yet loud and encouraging in their support.

Time kept ticking away.

I told myself the league had always been our priority. We sat 7th, with other sides around us playing today. But, perhaps revitalised under a new manager and when DeShaun got fit and returned to first-team duty, we could get back to our winning ways and reach the play-offs. It wasn't impossible.

Dundee United attacked down our left flank. It was nothing more than an effort to run down the clock, and our full-back was lulled into making a challenge which put the ball out for a United throw-in.

We just needed one more chance in their half.

United kept control, using two players to run the ball to the corner flag.

“Don't think it's meant to be, ma'am,” said a voice, appearing beside me. “But you can be proud of everyone.”

“Willie,” I said, acknowledging the groundsman only with a subtle glance as I'd to be extremely careful in my movements without my underwear.

Our full-back managed to flick the ball off a United forward for a goal-kick, but only seconds remained on the clock.

“Things might've been different, Willie, if DeShaun had been out there.”

“But he wasn't out there,” said Hilary Duncan, marching between us with the same sports bag they'd filled in the dressing room.

I held my tongue and watched them walk towards the dug-out.

Rab McDonald took the goal-kick as quick as he could, firing the ball deep into the opposition's half.

The referee blew the full-time whistle before anyone could even compete to win it.

It was over.

A rumbling of boos echoed around Lady Macbeth Park.

We were out of the FA Cup in the Fifth Round.

An overwhelming chorus of cheers and applause rang out louder.

“We made the last sixteen, ma'am,” Willie said. “A hell of an achievement. Make sure the lads remember that... Even if some of the fans have already forgotten.”

I nodded, then began to carefully make my way back up the tunnel with precise, tiny steps on my stilettos.

Spirits seemed relatively high among the players and staff, as I waited in the corridor between the tunnel and the dressing room. The media wished to speak to Joe in his post match interview.

I could feel my nerves fraying, knowing it'd be his last. Not just his last interview as manager, but his last action.

He'd already addressed the players after the defeat.

I'd no second thoughts, only a sense of trepidation before I took this inevitable step and faced his reaction. But it had to be done.

Kyle appeared from the dressing room first.

I stood with my hands clasped together at the front of my tiny skirt and my legs even tighter.

He gave me a knowing nod.

I returned mine more subtly.

The job was his. I'd already promised it to him.

I felt a presence to the other side of me.

“Ms Liu,” he said.

“Mr Wilkesboro,” I replied curtly.

The media waited.

DeShaun patted his pocket.

“I think you have something belonging to me,” I said quietly.

“I do, Ms Liu.”

I continued to refrain from making eye contact with him. “Perhaps you'd like to stick around after?”

“I would, Ms Liu.”

I smiled, unable to think of a better incentive to getting rid of Joe if I started to lose my nerve.

Joe appeared from the dressing room and brushed by me.

I wondered if he knew what was coming.

He stepped in front of the cameras.

“Joe, out of the cup at the fifth round, how d'you feel about your players' performances today?” asked a reporter.

“I can't say enough about the lads,” he said. “They did a great job. We fought bravely on home turf, but sadly it wasn't to be.”

“There were some boos at full-time-”

“We were up against Premiership opposition!”

I felt myself tense as his demeanour darkened.

“That's still one win in your last six games, Joe.”

“Is that a question?” Joe demanded, his face reddening. “I didn't hear a question.”

I watched as he looked like he was ready to make a swift exit.

“The question is, Joe, aren't you concerned about the rumours surrounding the club today that Sasha Liu is about to sack you?”

I felt my sex shrivel.

“I'm not concerned, no,” he said.

“Why?”

He hesitated, locking his gaze on mine.

I saw some heads swivel, a few cameras too.

“There's no truth in the rumours,” he said. “Sasha Liu won't sack me.”

I fucking would, although I tried my best to hide it from the cameras. This moment was to be private, not played out for the next big viral clip.

“How can you be sure, Joe?”

“Sasha Liu won't sack me,” he said, looking at me with an intensity on his face. “Because the truth is... We're in a relationship.”

I felt my world implode.

“What?” chimed several stunned onlookers.

“We have been for some time,” Joe continued, “and now seems as good a time as any to reveal it publicly.”

“I knew it,” said someone I didn't look at.

“Sasha,” Joe said, gazing at me with a look of adoration.

Cameras were flashing on my face.

“Come up and join me.”

I felt frozen in a time I already wanted to forget.

He beckoned me to him.

A sense of shock in the corridor changed suddenly as whoops and cheers rang out and the press went wild for the moment.

Joe beckoned me again, this time more forcefully.

A gentle hand behind me encouraged me forward.

I was stepping toward him before I realised, taking tiny steps at a time.

“Make some room for her,” Joe said.

The media duly obliged him, parting to make way.

Someone whistled.

I felt the photographers and journalists swallow up the gap behind me, as I was thrust alongside Joe.

The flashes dazzled me more than ever.

“How long?” asked someone.

Joe looked to me, putting one arm around my tight waist. “How long has it been, honey?”

I hesitated, adamant I never intended this information to be made public. “I'm not-”

“Three days after we met,” Joe interrupted, sealing my fate with his.

“Three days?” someone said in disbelief.

I watched a flash reflect off my wedding ring, and felt I'd betrayed Aroon again.

“Go on, Joe, ya boy ye!”

My eyes focused behind the press, on the spot where I'd been standing just seconds before. DeShaun was no longer there.

“So, is running this club a team effort?” asked another reporter.

I felt myself overcome with guilt.

“In many ways, yes,” said Joe. “In other ways, no. I let Sasha work behind the scenes, and I control all team affairs. Isn't that right, honey?”

I reluctantly nodded, aware my every move would be deconstructed and analysed over and over when the cameras stopped shooting.

“But we're a team at heart,” Joe said. “We started this rebirth of Broxburgh together, and we're going to see it all the way through to the Premiership together.”

“Hear, hear!” cheered Blair behind the press.

I spotted them staring at me.

“So, your job really isn't on the line, Joe?”

Hilary knew.

Joe shook his head. “We're going nowhere.”

I could only deny so much, but they knew.

“This is a serious, committed relationship?”

“Very much so,” Joe said, and pulled me into a clinch, pressing his lips to mine.

The media went into an absolute frenzy.