Grappling with the Star Part 4

Every moment of success comes with a price to pay and a decision to make

Photo by borjomi88 Deposit Photos

Click for Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

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Kaycee winced as she lowered her soccer shorts, gritted her teeth, and watched the bruise slowly turn her right thigh purple.

She silently cursed the pain and the woman who caused it — Mallory, the star who had stripped to a jog bra and panties and was now holding court with reporters who were plying her with questions in front of her locker.

Mallory’s underwear had her sponsor’s logo emblazoned on it and the team and the league allowed her to wear it while being interviewed.

She was the marketing giant and the Big Money midfielder who reigned supreme on and off the field. The success of women’s soccer as a moneymaker depended as much on her flamboyant personality as it did on her skills.

Disgusting.

Kaycee sat alone, now feeling like an old lady who was invited to tryouts for the Cyclones. She had survived the first cut and Coach Loomis was eyeing her carefully. But now she could barely walk.

She got up and limped to see the trainer while the reporters slowly left, catching one more quote before disappearing into the athletic center’s corridors.

“Damn, let’s get that treated,” said Kelly, an ever-present help. She patted the table and Kaycee climbed on top. “Ice, heat, heat, ice, and then the whirlpool.”

“Okay,” agreed Kaycee, taking a breath and struggling to look brave.

“Hey ya, Kelly, I need a rubdown.” Mallory walked by, totally naked except for a towel draped over her shoulders. “The girls and I have got an important party date.”

“Gotcha.” Kelly looked at Kaycee. “Get in the whirlpool first and then I’ll work on you when I’m finished with her.” She motioned toward Mallory.

Kaycee rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure.”

Getting off the table was more painful than getting on. Kelly turned the jets on and left Kaycee by herself while serving Mallory and her “girls,” the small group of players who formed the team’s core and attracted all the press.

Kaycee stripped naked, grimaced while settling into the hot water rising over her tummy and her breasts, and soon felt completely invisible. Few women her age ever got this chance.

Getting the tryout was a surprise and the celebration with Jenna over drinks and a night of intense sex was wonderful, but now she feared the inevitable. Being cut, thanked for her time, and sent home bruised and banged up by the star player who she was learning to hate.

Going home and falling into Jenna’s arms looked like the bright side of life.

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The other players were out partying at a fashion-related event where a camera crew was filming a documentary on Mallory; while Kaycee, dressed in denim shorts and a T-shirt, stretched out on the sofa in her cramped apartment and chomped on a salad and a slice of leftover pizza.

She grabbed the phone and texted Jenna who agreed to FaceTime. Kaycee couldn’t wait. She set the dinner aside and called Jenna who answered.

“Babe!” squealed Kaycee. “I’m so glad to see your smiling face.”

Jenna brushed her brunette hair aside and laughed while Kaycee confessed to struggling with staying on the team.

“I miss you,” pouted Jenna, who unbuttoned her blouse, revealing her naked tits.

Kaycee could see her setting the phone down and getting comfortable on the bed, fondling her nipples and stroking between her legs. “I want your lips and body on me, in me, and over me so badly.”

Jenna was equally hot. “Oh, yeah. Me too, sweetheart, me too.”

Kaycee felt flushed with excitement and reached into her shorts stroking her pussy, fingering her clitoris, and longing for Jenna’s loving embrace.

Their minds and bodies worked in sync and found that even when masturbating while apart they felt connected. Yet now that she was in a relationship, the separation carried a frustration that Kaycee couldn’t have anticipated.