A Little Adult Coaching {darkest_fate&kckolbe}

[darkest_fate]

"Oh man, it was so awesome! It was like, I was right there, power-driving up the center of the field. I could feel my girls right on the wing. You know the feeling, right? You got your posse on either side and you're just tearing shit up on the field,' she paused to take a swig out of the bottle in her hand. Then she started moving, very nearly air-dribbling. "We had the defenders all fucked. I'm telling you, it was the stuff of fucking legend. I passed it back using that trick you taught me. You know,' she raised her foot, rolling it back smoothly, "where you kinda psych out and roll perfectly back? Mad control. Anyway, she had the ball while I just tore past these two idiots that were all like 'damn, why doesn't twenty six have the ball any more?' They were going for the shins, wanted to check them both, but I already had that one card."

Another pause for more liquor.

"So I ducked that left and I could feel it. The ball coming up, hit me just right. A feint," she hopped left, "then swing with the right and..." she thrust her arms up, her t-shirt rising to show a flash of toned ab. "Bam! Game-winning shot! Who's the best? I'm the best. You'd better fucking believe it," she took a deeper swig, before collapsing into a couch behind her. The teenage player lazily threw her legs up, still clad in her cleats (which she almost never remembered to take off without being told; her mother had complained that the things were starting to get fused).

"Should have cinched it," she insisted. "I already had the scholarship. You know, the one to Cali. Plus I managed to pass that stupid test," the girl's nose wrinkled at that. "Ugh, it was all fucking perfect!"

Charlie Denvers leaned back onto the couch. Bits of sweat and dirt still clung to her face, streaking her. Her muscular legs had a light coating of grime on the tanned flesh. And there was a lot of flesh: her green soccer shorts barely extended into her thighs. The matching green shirt, also marred, showed off a bit of flat stomach. It was quite clear that she'd come straight from the game to here, or, more likely, straight from the celebration after the game to here.

"Fucking bitch," she spat again, taking another angry drink. Charlie leaned forward. "So that bitch, you know the one. Fucking barbie with her dickless Ken. She was all up in my space after the game. We were just celebrating. Last game of the year, you know? So we were talking booze and the cheerleading bitch is all up in my face, talking about the fucking ball that I almost hit her with. Would've fucked up the bitch's only redeeming feature. Like those lips haven't already blown every fucking guy on the damn boys' team," Charlie took another drink, then frowned, staring at the bottle. "So what if I finally knocked the bitch's teeth out? She only lost a couple. Fucking school policy giving me a damn suspension," Charlie flung the bottle, possibly hard enough to break it.

"And god, did you hear dad?" Charlie fumed, now rising up off the couch to start pacing again. She looked about to start up yet another rant. And why wouldn't she? Charlie was always emotional right after a game, always thriving on adrenaline. You didn't become one of the best players in the country by not getting worked up. Plus she'd always been worked up about Jessica Reed, the "Barbie" who'd she'd been feuding with for ages. Put them together, plus her previous infractions (two temporary suspensions for fighting, three detentions for being mouthy, and that one for flashing the cheerleading squad), and she'd all but been asking for it.

So off to the one person who'd listen. Well, not just listen, but listen and give some booze and advice...

 

[kckolbe]

Eric Benson sat next to her on the couch watching her with pride as she mimed her performance on the field, following the play by play in his head and trying to recreate the scene. When she mentioned the pass he'd taught her, he breathed in sharply in anticipation until she confirmed that she'd executed it right, at which point he let out muted yell of excitement, fists clenched in the shared victory of the maneuvre. When she paused to take another sip, he had to restrain himself from snapping at her to get on with it. He hated when she stopped mid-play. When the ball came back to her, he nodded excitedly, already knowing what was coming up next by the tone of her voice. He clapped his hands loudly and let out an excited "Yeah!" as she deservedly sang her own praises. "What a fucking game," he added, breathing deeply as she took another sip. He loved every second she described. Even though he no longer played soccer (he hadn't been able to go professional, and playing casually just pissed him off), he still loved it, and he wanted to hear every bit when she relayed her on-field heroics. When there was decent tape, he would often watch it with her. The fact that her small body was being plied with alcohol or the lifting of her shirt (both things that generally made him happy) hadn't even occurred to him once she'd started. For all his ulterior motives, he did fucking love competition.

Once she collapsed next to him, Eric scooted over next to her and swung her legs over her lap, casually untying and removing her cleats as she wound down, transitioning to the second story. He'd have to wipe off the couch later, but that didn't bother him at all. She was tipsy, he was touching her, clothing was being removed...life was good. "What happened?" he asked, genuinely curious, since this sounded like a big deal, but at this point, mainly to keep her talking. He nodded and scrunched his face a bit at the mention of the bitch to let Charlie know that he remembered her and not fondly. In truth, he hadn't met her, and he wasn't as morally opposed to a cheerleader who blew the athletes. He'd been responsible for some pretty epic cheerleader facials when he was younger. "WAIT! You punched her?" For fuck's sake, Charlie.

He barely registered the crash of the bottle, and only sat on the couch shaking his head as she stood up and started pacing in front of him. She was supposed to be working on her self-control. Eric was all about doing things to get in an opponent's head, and didn't care about the rules so much, but he knew when something was fucking stupid, and punching a cheerleader in the face in public was fucking stupid. He leaned back and sighed. "No more scholarship. Did you lose your acceptance to Cali as well?"

 

[darkest_fate]

What a fucking game indeed. On a normal night, on any other game night, they'd probably have stayed up late just talking about that, Charlie recounting her expert plays while Uncle Eric proved a killer audience. He'd been that way since she was kid, frequently actually attending. Hell, sometimes the highlights for Charlie were going through the game afterward with him, reliving every moment and sharing it with her personal favorite relative.

That he happened to divest herself of her cleats helped too. The girl still wore her socks, which were probably a little foul still. Wasn't like Eric would get long to smell them: Charlie was already up. She nodded along with his question, grinning slightly at it, too buzzed by alcohol or adrenaline or both to really care that he was about three seconds from lecturing her about it. Bitch had always wanted a nose job anyway.

The question had groaning, and she again plunked down on the couch. "No more scholarship," she agreed, leaning back. "Sucks," as did her lack of booze, which she was tempted to bring up again. She lazily drew her arms up her sides, again disturbing the shirt and showing just a bit of muscled, tanned thigh, before her arms linked above her head. "I got differed enrollment," she said, letting out a noise of exasperation. "Dad fucking lost it. Did the whole: you're supposed to be working on your anger issues. You know what it's like, right?" she leaned back, facing him, curled hair falling about her face. "You just get all worked up and some snotty bitch gets in your face and it's a reflex. Just urgh," she ran her hands through her face. "They say that if I can enroll when the school finally lets me graduate. They're going to be holding that shit over my head. Barbie's probably going to make me pay for her damn nose job and of course dad's on her side."

Charlie snorted, then reached over, plucking Eric's bottle from either table or hand; she didn't care which, before bounding back. "how the fuck am I supposed to get that kind of money? Think McDonald's is gonna fork it over?" she took a swig. "I ought to go into fucking porn. There's those leaked pics I sent Darren a while back. Remember that shit? I think Dad was more upset that I was fucking a black guy than that my tits were all over the internet,' she took another swing of the beer, scooting back into the couch again.

 

[kckolbe]

Eric nodded as the lack of scholarship was confirmed. "Well damn, and yes it sucks." He sighed, watching her intently, as she brought her arms over her head. Not only did it provide a nice glimpse of her thighs and midriff, two areas he generally got to see quite freely, but it also accentuated her breasts, something he didn't get to see quite as freely (not counting a "gift" from Darren). Based on how quickly she was drinking, it was likely that he'd be seeing more of her body soon.

"Okay, that's not the end of the world. You'll still be able to play in college, and they won't care about high school bullshit if you keep it together there. As for your dad...that doesn't matter right now." This time Eric stood and started pacing. He looked over and sighed when she grabbed his bottle off the table, then walked over and cleaned up some recently broken glass while she asked some questions that very much did matter, but he didn't know the answer to any of them. He chuckled when she suggested doing porn, the small smile on his face growing as she mentioned the pictures her ex-boyfriend had put online earlier in the year. He definitely remembered that, as he had seen those pictures many times over, and made a point to save them to his computer in case they got taken down. "Your dad's priorities aren't always what they should be, but you get a lot of your anger problems from him. Your mom and I weren't allowed to do that shit."

After throwing away the broken glass and paper towels he'd cleaned up most of the spill with, he walked back over to the couch where his niece was looking very comfortable. He looked at her a moment, considering her anger, her body...a pretty standard mix of emotions brought on by the fiery young woman. "Well, with the way you're drinking and the asshole your dad is being, you aren't going back there tonight." He gestured at the clothes she was wearing. "Go ahead and take those off. I'll grab you something clean to wear. We'll talk about the rest after that." Without waiting for further response, he walked into his bedroom to grab a t-shirt for her.

 

[darkest_fate]

"No kidding," Charlie mumbled again. She took another swig, glowering. Her uncle had popped up now, and she had to grin at watching him move around and pace. The grin turned into a snorting laugh at his insistence that things would get better in college. Wasn't that what they were always saying? Not that Charlie's high school years had been all that rough, though she was still mad as hell about the way they ended. The rage had her taking another swig, grumbling.

No, her dad's priorities weren't straight. "You haven't seen Mom lately, if you think this is all him," Charlie replied, grinning a little. She knew her mom had some fire in her; she'd seen it before. There were times when things would just wind up broken around the house, for whatever reason. Charlie's grin turned a little sloppier as she kept thinking, and kept drinking.

"Sounds like a plan to me," she agreed, nodding and saluting her uncle with the raised bottle. It wouldn't be the first time she hadn't come home. Fuck, it wouldn't be the first time she wouldn't come home because of drinking. Besides, pretty well everyone in her family would more or less agree that she and her dad should keep some distance. "That might end up being 'stay the weekend!'" She called after her retreating uncle. She didn't protest his mention of getting her a shirt, just rolling her eyes as he did. At least uncle Eric was better about the whole clean thing than her mom and dad.

Charlie scratched at her side, before checking out some of the scrapes she'd gotten tonight. There was a fairly gnarly one on her shin that may actually need some more tending to. Charlie brushed it off with a hand, studying it. No blood, so not too bad. "Better than the other bitch," she mumbled, before taking a look at her slightly scraped knuckles. After another bit or so, she leaned forward, searching through the table to try and see where she'd put her phone. She would likely still be searching when her uncle came back.

"You seen my phone, Uncle Eric?" she called. "Swore I stashed it somewhere around here..."

 

[kckolbe]

"Your mom and I didn't let our anger get us in any real trouble." It was true. Eric had definitely let his anger get the best of him in the past, especially on the field, but there all it meant was getting benched for the rest of the game, rarely more. Also, as he'd gotten older, he'd started cooling his anger by making it a competition, working to get in the head of whoever had pissed him off and make him get in trouble by starting the fight Eric wanted.

Eric shook his head in mock exasperation as he walked off. He doubted she was paying attention, but he liked reminding her that she was a pain in the ass. Not only did it keep her ego from getting too inflated, but it also helped make her a bit more coach-able and, depending on what he was coaching, more enjoyable. Despite the indication that he didn't want her staying longer, she'd spent plenty of weekends at his place. Hell, she had a key so she could let herself in, as her trips were often unplanned. While that resulted in more than a few awkward situations, he generally appreciated her company, and often for the right reasons. The fact that she almost never thought ahead to bring her own clothes to change into did help a little.

He walked back into the room with a large shirt draped over his shoulder. The couch faced away from the bedroom, so her back was to him as she leaned over to clumsily search for her phone. Not being able to resist the opportunity to get closer to his fit niece, he hopped over the couch and sat down behind her, his legs spread so that she was sitting between them, his forming bulge against her tight ass. "Haven't seen it, kiddo. But ya know, if you wanna convince me to let you stay the weekend and letting you illegally drink all my booze, you could try to follow instructions a little better." As he finished the sentence, he started lifting up her shirt from the bottom. As she was leaning forward when he started, and knowing that her processing speed had likely sharply decreased, he added "come on, let's get you undressed and see those tits Darren advertised."

 

[darkest_fate]

"Yeah, sure you didn't," Charlie drawled. She somehow highly doubted that either Eric nor her mom avoided trouble throughout all their youth, or at least anger related trouble. For one thing, her mom was way too forgiving of Charlie's own outbursts (which really weren't all that frequent, they were often just... explosive). Plus there was just something in Eric that hinted toward it.

For now: phone searching. And nothing at all. Soon Charlie was moving to plop down again, only to nearly find herself crushing her uncle's dick with her butt. She grunted, shifting slightly, adding a little wiggle. It felt like he had a bit of a hard-on going, but Charlie just shrugged it off. In her experience guys had those about two times out of three, and getting worked up just made things worse. "Blah, blah," she said, rolling her eyes. She actually raised her arms though, helping to get her uncle to shuck the shirt. "If you're hoping to see tit, you're gonna be disappointed~"

That last came out as a sing song while her still ponytail tied hair caught slightly caught in the shirt. For as soon as it raised up just enough to show upper back, it revealed the impressive black sports bra she'd been wearing. The thing was obviously supportive, crushing down even Charlie's modest (but defiantly perky) breasts. The removed shirt went flying, and Charlie twisted slightly to look back and over at Eric.

"Ta-da! Black boob jail number forty six," she said jokingly, before reaching to take another swig of the alcohol. "Like I'm gonna run around the field without a bra. Even with my tiny boobs I'd still end up sore," she reached for the shirt, ready to slide it on. Then she'd probably go ahead and remove the shorts: not like they were covering a whole lot more than she'd been wearing. Or maybe she'd be super lazy and see if she could get Eric to do it for her. Socks too, while he was at it. "C'mon, shirt me already," she said impatiently. "Then you can help me out of these stupid socks and shorts," she stuck her tongue at him, knowing just how much fun it would have to be to disrobe an athlete's smelly socks.

 

[kckolbe]

Leaning against her as he was, it took no effort to lean in a little more (pressing his growing bulge closer in the process), and whisper into her ear. "Hey, I didn't lose my scholarship." It was a true statement. While in-game and practice-related incidents may have contributed to Eric's lack of team invitations after college, he had completed college with his athletic scholarship paying for damn near all of it. As for his sister, she'd been calmer than he had, though the two of them didn't talk all that much, partially because he didn't want to have to answer any questions about what he and Charlie did together. As it was, she was only mildly bothered by how he pushed her as an away from school coach.

He chuckled as he felt her wiggle against him. Not only did it feel good, but it was a nice reminder of how much fun she could be when she wasn't in a shitty mood. He shrugged when she mentioned the sports bra. In truth, he was hoping to get the green light to remove that as well. It wasn't often, but every once in a while Charlie would have a complete lack of fucks to give about him seeing her naked, and he tried to casually look for those moments, as they tended to go along with drinking or training. He gave her ponytail a token tug before pulling it out of the way and tossing the shirt on the floor. He brought his hands down once it was gone, resting them on her thighs as she turned to look at him.

He nodded, acknowledging the sports bra, then waited for her next swig (she drank a LOT for someone her size) to pull the clean shirt down over her head. "Socks and shorts, eh? All right." There was a hint of mischief in his voice, but he brought his feet back up on the couch and vaulted back over away from her before walking around to face her and kneeling, his hands going to one of her feet. "I can't deny that these things need to be washed," he said, removing each sock one by one while he watched her face.

"Now stand up." He added to the command by reaching up and pulling her arms forward. As she stood, his eyes ended up right at the level of the tits they'd just been talking about, though they, along with the rest of her body down to mid-thigh, were covered by his shirt. "I'll help ya undress any day, Charlie," he began, snaking his hands up to her hips and hooking into the waistline of her shorts, "but you know what they say about not doing something yourself..." Grinning, he hooked his fingers in one layer deeper, into her underwear, before pulling down forcefully.

 

[darkest_fate]

"Ohooo, low blow," Charlie said, eyes narrowing slightly, a little anger spiking. It was a bit rubbing salt in the wounds, but she was fairly certain he meant it in a teasing way. The intention was enough to let it slide. Well, that and the fact that she was probably starting to enter "drunk" territory and they'd been playing around for a while. Sometimes she did wonder about his seeing her naked, particularly since she actually got breasts and all. But she knew her uncle was hot enough that he probably didn't need to perv on his tomboy of a niece at all. They were bros, not a bro and a hoe.

Hence why she just grinned as she got him to agree to take off her lower parts. "Yeah, there you go, smell 'em," she said, giving her toes a wiggle. Her feet weren't overripe: she usually got more of an earthy smell when she tore up the field, as he well knew. Charlie wobbled a bit as she moved from one foot to another, still taking the drink.

Shirt on now, hanging over her loose form. Charlie was fairly tall, sure, but she was all athletically lean, so much so that Eric's shirts hung low enough on her. Of course, if she raised her arms, he'd see a shot of that tight little ass, but again: who gave a fuck? Particularly now, as Charlie's give-a-damn was dissipating with each passing second. "Creeper," she teased as he began. She could feel his hands coming up her waist, and she just took another swig of booze. Fingers snaked into the shorts, and she spread her legs just enough to help get things down.

"Don't bitch about the job?" Charlie asked, more than a little confused. In a blur, his hands shifted, and a delayed Charlie realized what he was doing. "Jesus, fuck! she snapped as she felt her panties going down as well. The black, Nike cottons weren't exactly sexy, but they were covering her sex. The tight little line would be just visible under a rather impressive thatch of dark curled hair. Charlie had already wobbled back down to the couch, barely stopping from spilling beer on herself.

"Fucking hell, Eric!" she snapped, lashing out with a foot to give him a moderately strong kick. "Goddam, if you're going to do shit like that, warn a girl. Fucking perverted motherfucker," she reached over and threw a pillow at him, sulking back into the couch. She almost looked like a child: wearing the oversized shirt, with her hair pulled up into the sloppy tail, sucking on her bottle and pouting.

 

[kckolbe]

"The only reason I put up with the smell of your feet is that they are the only part of you that might be worth something one day. I'm starting to worry that your liver will be fried by then, though." He slapped her foot lightly with one of her socks before tossing it off to the side as well.

When she called him a creeper, far more accurately than she knew, Eric let out a loud laugh. As true as it was, though, publicly denying it was both required and fun. "If I am the creeper, then why did you show me the pictures Darren leaked out?" He noticed her opening her stance. "Try not to fall on me, will ya?"

Her wrong guess only made the moment all the more sweet as her shorts and panties came down together. Between the speed of the moment, the shirt hanging off of her, and wobbly, off-balance movement, Eric hadn't been able to see most of what he'd uncovered, just enough to see that she didn't shave bald, which really wasn't much of a surprise. He laughed again, louder this time, as she fell back on the couch. With her feet no longer supporting her weight, it was easy for him to pull her shorts and panties away from her ankles, brandishing them in front of her, almost trophy-like.

"I think my favorite part of all of that was you thinking that a practical joke should come with a warning." It was a blatant lie, of course, but there was no way he was going to admit that his favorite thing about all of it was that the only thing keeping him from being able to see her tight, vulnerable sex was his own shirt. "Hey, I provide the booze, I decide what you get to wear. Besides, I've got the advantage, because I know you'd rather be naked around me than fully clothed around your dad."

He smiled at her in only somewhat petty victory and watched her pout as he gathered up the rest of her discarded clothes. "At some point, though, we will need to wash that bra if you plan on wearing it tomorrow. No rush, though. One second." With that, he half-sprinted to the laundry room and tossed her clothes into the washing machine, not taking the time to start it, then grabbed another bottle from the fridge before joining her on the couch, still grinning as he took a sip of his new beer. His expression softened, though, and he draped an arm casually over her shoulders. "Okay," he said softly. "I'm done messing with ya. Let's talk."

 

[darkest_fate]

Charlie just outright flipped him off at his mention of her liver. There was a little shoulder Charlie's angel that was probably begging for her to stop. She'd already lost some balance, and she hadn't been drinking any water. But by this point the devil on her shoulder was about five times as big, drunk, and mean, so there wasn't much there.

"Oh fuck you," she said again. "That was totally a 'can you believe this asshole?'" She'd all but broken up with Darren over that. He'd been a pretty good kisser and could actually provide some weed from time to time. Plus he'd actually play with her. Not, like, sexually, but they'd hit the field together, work out. It was hard to find a boyfriend that was willing to deal with that part of Charlie.

Back on the couch, angry and cursing up a storm. "Pulling off panties is a practical joke? Gah, no wonder Mom says you're such a bad influence," she took another pull of her drink, slouching slightly, legs spreading. The shirt rose up, to the point where if she stretched he could probably get a glimpse. He could certainly see an awful lot of sun-kissed thigh. "Ugh, why do you have to bring up him? I hate you," she tossed another pillow at him, which didn't leave her much to slouch on, leading to more awkward scrambling.

Yeah, the bra would have to be washed eventually, and Charlie didn't exactly like her tits staying in boob jail all that long either. Problem was that it was really fucking hard to take it off while keeping just a shirt on, and the last thing she wanted was for Eric to come in and see her naked ass writhing on his couch like some kind of drunk slut (she'd confess to being half that at one point).

So she sat. Sat and drank and waited. By the time he came back, she looked at his bottle with a greedy glint in her eyes, though by now she'd put down at least one and likely a half on her own. Eric extended an arm, and Charlie leaned into it. "I'm fucking screwed, aren't I?" she asked, looking up at him. "Stupid fucking bitch," she looked about ready to cry now. "not fucking fair! I worked my ass off for that scholarship! Like, literally," her tight ass was almost legendary, about as good as her legs. "Fucking --" her anger caught her throat for a bit, and she went for her beer (previously Eric's beer), draining the last bit on that bottle, looking about ready to start tossing it too.

 

[kckolbe]

"I think 'can you believe this asshole' was the title of one of the pictures," he responded, grinning a little. Regardless of which parts of her had been photographed, it was a solid pun in his mind. He hadn't known a whole lot about Darren other than that he played soccer (well enough), they'd had sex, he wasn't her first, and why they'd broken up. He also knew she'd tried weed, though didn't know he was the source, or at least a source.

"Your mom wasn't in as good a shape as you were. Jerking her clothes off would have been cruel. You might get pissed, but I know you're not embarrassed." He let the pillow weakly make contact. He wasn't sure if she was just playfully tossing it at him or if her coordination was shot, but either way, the pillow wasn't particularly well-thrown.

He caressed her shoulder as she leaned into him, and listened to her rant as he kissed the top of her head, even if it tasted a little salty and he could smell the residue of her sweat. "You did, kiddo. You really did work your ass off. Watching you play was amazing, and I was always proud to see you in action. However much shit I give you, I am proud." Seeing that she'd finished the second bottle, Eric ran his hand down her arm, hoping to calm her, or at least catch her if she started to throw that one as well.

"I don't know how screwed you are. Like I said, you can still play in college. You just have to get there, which means graduating high school and making some money. Graduating's in the bag, because I know you're doing well enough there, but you will need to work hard on the second part. Here." He took a long swig from the beer bottle and handed it to Charlie. Once she'd taken it, he used his free hand to slide under her legs and lift her over, dumping her body on his lap and loosely wrapping his arms around her waist.

"I guess this is one of those times I should try to act more like an uncle than a coach. Don't move as fast with that beer, okay?"

 

[darkest_fate]

"Oh you so didn't say that," Charlie insisted, again narrowing her eyes. That anger still bubbled under the surface. Well, actually, it was a lot less beneath and a little more surface by this point. And hearing about his not teasing her mom wasn't exactly helping, even if there was a sort of implication that Charlie was hotter than her mom had been at this age (which was only slightly surprising; Charlie's mom looked pretty hot; at least a few friends had called her a MILF).

But no, she was leaning now, feeling the comforting arm and the gestures of affection. "Because I'm fucking amazing," she mumbled, her voice still dancing the line between drunk!angry and drunk!sad. She did feel his hand on her arm, and she relented that bottle, letting him do whatever he wanted with it. At this point, she was much more interested in the other bottle, still eying it like a hungry infant.

"Oh, sure, I just have to somehow stay in shape until I can make enough money and do enough school service bullshit to prove I'm not a liability," Charlie said. She did figure that she could probably graduate. Her grades might not have been super, but they were decent; mostly B's, a few C's, one D in fucking math (which Charlie insisted was because she didn't dress like a slut, hence one of her detentions). Charlie didn't even fully realize she had a new beer until she was holding it.

And up into the lap, her shirt sliding up slightly. It almost felt like her bare ass was pressing against his hard-on, which made sitting a bit uncomfortable. But despite her initial reservations, some part of Charlie really liked the cuddling. "Gonna fucking pound it now," she said moodily, though she was mostly picking at the label. She frowned, ripping at it. "This fucking sucks! How am I going to get that much money?"

She sighed, twisting to look over her shoulder at her uncle. "You know I was kinda serious about that porn thing, right? I mean, fuck it: there's already nudes out there. Might as well make money. I did a sexy vid for... damn, I can't remember which boyfriend now," She shrugged. It was a while ago, and she was pretty sure the vid had been deleted. It had mostly been her dancing and stripping and yes, she'd definitely had a few at the time. Charlie took another sip of her beer, pausing after she lowered it. She was definitely feeling it now, and she was starting to sink from the angry part of being drunk to the pouty part.

 

[kckolbe]

"Well, she was also older. That might have been a factor." He shrugged mildly.

"You are amazing." There was no joke or exaggerated inflection. The bottle didn't go flying anywhere, and Eric was able to set it safely off to the side on the end table.

He let out a delighted chuckle when she told him she was gonna pound the beer. Her tired, drunken rebelliousness was nothing but adorable, especially since she didn't follow the threat by actually drinking it. He went to give her a squeeze, noticing for the first time that his shirt had ridden up on her just a little. The realization distracted him, as well as finished hardening the very significant bulge his fit niece was currently sitting on.

This fucking sucks! "It does suck. I don't know how you'll get the money." He smiled as warmly and as assuringly as he could when she turned, then shifted his grip to hug her closer. "You were serious about porn?" He ran a hand up her back, riding up the shirt she wore a little more. "I wouldn't have thought that." He listened as she explained the logic, nodding along in disbelief that this was happening, but remaining both silent and rock hard for the rest of her winding explanation. When she finished taking another sip of the beer, he slowly reached up and took the bottle from her, taking a powerful drink from it before handing it back. "You can have another when that one dies."

"Well, you've taken the pictures and done a video...so yeah, you're partly there. Given how you reacted to having your panties taken off, though, I'd say you have a lot farther to go." He smiled playfully, strained a bit as he thought of the implications of the next question. "Has anyone offered you a job?"

 

[darkest_fate]

"Bet your ass I am," Charlie murmured as Eric insisted she was awesome. She punctuated it with a quick drink of the alcohol. In truth, her stomach was starting to churn: as Eric had noted, she was fairly small on a relative scale to be drinking that much in a row. Plus she'd just been fairly active and all.

So much suck. "I don't know," Charlie admitted as her uncle questioned her sincerity. "The fuck do I know?" she took another quick drink, grumbling a little more. It half sounded like a good idea now, but, well, she also wasn't sure of much of anything. She picked at the beer label yet again, peeling a little more off the label. He had already offered to get her another, and she was half tempted to get as drunk as humanly possible. Except she knew she did stupid things when drunk and... she just didn't know.

"Oh fuck you," Charlie said without any real venom. "And, well, I got, like, one offer after the whole photos went out. But they sounded super sleazy and ugh. I don't want to end up like some of those...' she gestured with the hand still holding the bottle, "sluts, that you see. You know, the ones who kinda look like they've been fucked constantly and then spent all the money on shit," she took a pull of the drink, leaning back against her uncle. "Also," she held up her hand, still holding the bottle, but with one finger out, "there's a bit fucking difference between someone taking your fucking panties off in surprise and stripping them off for a camera. So, again I say," she pointed at him with the finger, tapping his shoulder, "fuck you."

She took another sip of the beer, grimacing and setting it down on the table, leaning forward and letting the shirt rise just a bit more, meaning that nearly bare ass was rubbing against crotch as she leaned back in. She tugged at the shirt this time though, but still didn't leave his lap, at least, not yet.

 

[kckolbe]

Eric only chuckled at the casual "fuck you" she'd thrown at him. Joke over, though, he went back to listening to her talk about the situation, explaining an offer he hadn't known about. Without knowing exactly what she was referring to, he nodded in agreement of trashy, drugged-up looking performers. "I definitely wouldn't want to see you end up like that. If you do go into porn, I hope you go with something better than that."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm an asshole. In my defense, you were making me take off your socks." He waited while she leaned forward, his hands on her thighs, the shape of her firm ass clear through the shirt. He lifted up his hands as she moved to pull the shirt down, crossing them over her lap and grabbing her waist once she was settled.

"So the video you did, what did that consist of? I've never really seen you do any of this stuff. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure you have the ability to, but that's not the same as having the technique. I'm not trying to discourage you. You can do whatever you set your mind to, Charlie. I do worry that this might be a bigger jump than you're ready for."

He sighed slowly. "I wish I could coach you on this like I do soccer, but I don't know where to start. And I don't have any 'game film' we can go over together. Tell me this, are you comfortable not just showing off your body, but actually trying to make people who aren't your boyfriend cum? That's a big step."

 

[darkest_fate]

Yeah, they both wouldn't want to see Charlie end up like that. She wrinkled her nose just thinking about all the disgusting, washed up porn stars. Ugh. Plus, like, wouldn't that shit follow her into college? She didn't want to think about it. She was just seriously thinking about drinking herself into a stupor yet again.

"I just had a rough day," Charlie protested, again wiggling in his arms. She could feel him letting her move, then felt the arms nearly wrapping around her waist. It felt a little strange: comforting in its way, like getting hugged by your dad. Except it also felt a bit like getting hugged by a boyfriend, particularly since Charlie could still feel her uncle chubbing against her. She shifted her waist again, this time perhaps pushing just a little more down.

The video; Charlie rolled her eyes. He kept going though, and she supposed she might as well tell. "Like, it was a striptease and all. I danced around all sexy like to some music and stuff. Flashed, squished my boobs some. That sort of thing,' She shrugged. It had been a while ago, like she said, and she hadn't thought it that big of a deal at the time, still didn't, really. She took one last swig of the beer, before pushing it, nudging it out of her reach this time (though the chances were high she'd be whining about that within a matter of minutes).

"I dunno," Charlie said again, moving back against her uncle. "I mean, I guess? It doesn't seem to take a whole lot to get a guy to cum," she shrugged. "Seems like girls take more work. And they already can see me naked. Fuck, you've seen the shit we wear when we practice. Half the time I'm already in a bra and shorts anyway. The fuck cares if they see some tit or catch a quick peek?" Charlie shrugged again. "Ugh, what's it matter? Not like I'm gonna find somebody who's gonna be all," she pointed straight ahead, "your great for porn, kid. Fuck, guy would probably be a perv who rapes girls in his basement rape dungeon," she wrinkled her nose, staring down the beer again. Her hands were fidgeting, and instead she decided to sort of pick at her uncle's leg, sort of pinching the fabric and rolling it between her fingers.

 

[kckolbe]

"You did have a rough day. It wasn't all bad, though. You did get to absolutely dominate out on the field. That's gotta count for something." He felt her weight shift again, and again he loosened his grip on her so she could pull down her shirt. Naturally, he'd prefer it to ride up over her hips, making her toned ass and tight pussy exposed and vulnerable to him, but he still had her butt pressed against his shaft, and she wasn't complaining about that. Eric had become a more patient man over the years, and even if his niece didn't know it, she had already given herself to him. He just needed to know how to accept the offer, and not invalidate it by making her aware of it.

Eric nodded as she explained the video. Like her, he didn't think it was that much either. No dirty talk, no mention of her showing off anything else. "All right, that's a start. We can build on that, work on your technique. Just like on the field, it's about getting into the other person's head. He stopped, leaning back as she leaned forward to set the beer away from herself, moving a bit against her and making it so she'd have to almost lay back against him when she moved back.

Eric listened to her ramble about porn for a bit before sitting up straight and respousing sternly. "Uh uh, kiddo. Making a guy cum isn't all it's about. You have to make him need you to cum. It's like soccer. I can go out tomorrow and watch some jackasses play around, and I could say that I watched soccer. But that wouldn't satisfy me, and I sure as fuck wouldn't go back and watch them the next day. If you do this, you aren't gonna give out quick peeks. You'll do it right."

He turned her head to face him. "I'm not like your dad. I don't give a fuck who you date, or who sees what you do, but I won't have you half-assing your way through this. I'll help you out as much as I can, but only if you give me the same effort you give me for soccer. Deal?"

 

[darkest_fate]

Winning on the field counted for a fuck of a lot as far as Charlie was concerned. She mumbled something to that effect now, half grumbling it as she adjusted her shirt once more. This conversation was still feeling a bit odd and all, but the more her uncle spoke, the more Charlie was beginning to realize that he probably knew way more about this than she did, and not simply because he was far more likely to know what a guy wanted to see/hear in a video.

Now she leaned back against him, listening with a fair amount of intensity. "Jeez, you make it sound like drills," she said, reaching up to brush back some loose hair that had started to fall out. Charlie didn't hide her rolling eyes as Uncle Eric insisted it was all about mind games. He always said it was about mind games. Charlie knew that force and passion and speed and a lot of other stuff was way more important: she proved that on the field constantly. Still, he had some point: she needed to be really watchable if she was going to do this.

"Gee, Uncle Eric, that sounds super pervy," she said, before shifting slightly, deepening her voice as she continued: "If you're going to go into fucking dudes, you're going to fuck them right, you hear me young lady?" Charlie snorted, rolling her eyes and shifting slightly, trying to move so she was more laying sideways in the couch than leaning back against him. "Seriously, you almost sound like you want me to do porn. It's stupid. Like you said, there's no way I'd make any money at it," she shrugged. It had just been a dumb idea, even if she did have that video and the pictures and stuff. Nobody wanted to see a foul-mouthed jock with small tits do anything on camera. Hell, she only got any interest in real life because she was passionate and fairly forward.

 

[kckolbe]

Eric only shrugged when Charlie claimed it sounded like drills, then let out an involuntary chuckle. He had thought about about drilling her more than once tonight, especially as she shifted around on him, but he had no intention of mentioning any of that tonight. He wasn't fazed when she rolled her eyes at him. She generally didn't like being told what to do, or practicing anything other than just playing soccer. The step drills and running he'd made her do had prompted similar eye-rolls, but they'd happened.

When she started mocking him, he took it with a grin. After all, it was kind of funny. He didn't tense until she accused him of wanting her to do porn. That made him clench, made him angry, not because it was an unjust accusation, quite the opposite, but because he couldn't be this close to having this and lose it. He took a couple of sharp breaths as she shifted again. He needed to use that anger, to focus. "All right. You gave me an idea and I ran with it, because I thought you said you were serious about it. I never said you had to fuck anyone either. Hell, I wasn't even expecting that. I figured you'd just perform in front of a webcam."

He lifted her off of him and set her on the couch, then stood up, his back to her, and threw his hands up in belligerent surrender. "That doesn't matter though. If having to actually work at it suddenly makes it dumb, then you aren't looking for a solution, you're just wanting to bitch." He started walking to the adjacent kitchen, and grabbed a beer for himself. While the refrigerator door hid his waist from view, he reached down and adjusted his bulge, making it less obvious.

 

[darkest_fate]

She gave him the idea? Well, Charlie supposed she did, technically. It had been mostly half-drunken, half-vengeful ramblings, but still. He just kept right on with it, insisting that he wasn't suggesting she fuck, though she was almost certain he'd just suggested something like that. The real killer moment was when he all but dumped her on the couch.

"Hey, fucker!" she shouted, nearly moving to throw something at him again, that anger bubbling right back up again. "You know damn well I can--" he was already taking off. Frustrated, Charlie let out a loud, wordless noise. She turned and grabbed another pillow, throwing it toward the kitchen. It fell far short, but Charlie didn't care: it made her feel better. Had she just been wanting to bitch? She didn't even know.

Panting, Charlie sat back on her heels. The shirt had moved up, baring a lot of her tanned, muscled lower half. She fidgeted with the bottom, still angry, still frustrated, but trying to think it through in her muddled way. She knew what the problem was at the core, and she knew how to get the answer.

So she stood. She moved over to the coffee table and sat down on it. Charlie wiggled a few times, pulling the shirt up, so it hovered over her waist. Her lower half was all on display now, from her rough, calloused feet to her nearly untamed bush of dark hair. Charlie spread her legs slightly, and turned to face her uncle. See this if she wasn't fucking serious.

"You really think I could make money showing all this off?" she asked, her voice seriously. "Like, actually fucking think, not just blowing hot air or being a dick or whatever." She gestured at herself. "Would you pay to see this shit?"

 

[kckolbe]

Eric remained silent as she yelled at him, and again as she yelled at nothing. He could tell it was working. He was in her head. He made a point not to look at her, to betray how badly he wanted to see her reaction. He had to be distant, his attention, his approval, had to be something she needed. He brought the bottle to his lips and pulled back, taking a long drink. He wouldn't turn to face her yet. He'd make her wait, make her sit and stew. He'd only briefly glanced over as the pillow fell near his feet, distracted only by the movement.

He turned his back to her, leaving the door open, and took another swig from the bottle, over half of it gone now. He didn't know what she was doing over on the couch, though he could hear some sounds, as though she was fidgeting uncomfortably. He looked down. His bulge, lined up with his fly, was still noticeable, the cool air from the fridge being no competition for the tension of the moment. Still, his t-shirt hung down over part of it, so if she wasn't looking for it she might not notice.

He shut the door to the fridge and turned to walk back into the living room, only to be greeted by a very unexpected sight. The thick bush held his gaze for a while, even through her first question. He didn't have to think about what the answer was. He knew people would pay. He knew he would. He looked at her face, the defiant look from her, even through the glaze of her drunkenness, well-familiar to him. He looked back down at her bush, walking over to her as he thought about her question. Despite knowing the real answer, he had to think about how to answer. His gaze stayed on her center as he walked all the way up to her. "Yes, I would. And if you put the effort into showing it off, I'd come back and pay again. Your turn," he began, looking her straight in the eyes. "Would you want to make me cum?"

 

[darkest_fate]

He was staring. Charlie felt her legs opening just a hair wider, silently inviting his gaze. Let him stare. The fuck should she care if he stared? not like he hadn't seen glimpses of it before, even if it had been some time now. She'd grown up around him, after all. Though her eyes drifted south, taking a little note of the noticeable bulge forming in his pants.

Fuck, is that... Oh my fucking God, he really is rock hard! Charlie's brows rose slightly, not quite believing it. wasn't she his niece? That was all kinds of wrong, and she wasn't sure if she was okay with it, despite being the one sitting half-naked and spread out on a coffee table.

Eyes met, and a challenge laid out before them. "I'd put effort," she said challenging, eyes sparking. She would too, if she did this. Eric thought she could, so maybe she could. and why the fuck not? Be fucking ironic to pay that bitch and the school back with money she got from using her body. Fuck them all. Serve them fucking right.

Still, that last question felt... odd. Charlie looked at his crotch for several long seconds. He was her uncle. He was rock hard. She wasn't wearing pants. Charlie looked back at those eyes, meeting the gaze again. "If you weren't my uncle, sure," she said, shrugging. It was a harmless enough statement, after all: he was, so she wasn't going to. That was... wrong, right?

 

[kckolbe]

When she met his gaze and said she'd put effort, he nodded intensely, not breaking the gaze. It was Charlie who did that, looking down to his crotch, clearly taken aback by what she saw. When her gaze returned, the will and defiance she radiated earlier now gone. The answer wasn't enough. The first time she'd wavered, he'd abandoned her. That had forced her into submitting, but it wouldn't work this time. It would seem too personal, would validate her suspicions. He was the sober one, and she the drunk one. He was the coach, she the trainee. If he kept control, she'd follow him.

"Think about when we play one on one. Think about when you do free kicks against me. Do you care that I'm your uncle then? Do you play against me and think 'if he wasn't my uncle I'd want to humiliate him, to destroy him?' I don't think you do. I think you play with all the intensity you can manage, and do whatever you can to win.

When you perform, you are going to get some weird customers. You won't like some of them. Hell, some of them you might despise. You can't think about whether or not they deserve to cum, or whether it's right to make them cum. If they come to you, if they pay you, you have to want to make them cum. I don't care what you use to motivate yourself. If you do this, I'll support you in it, and that's all there is. That's my job, and I want to do it well. But you have to want to do your job. Do you want to make me cum?"

 

[darkest_fate]

No, no she didn't care that he was her uncle then. No, she pretty much played to destroy him anyway. That was always how she played, how she handled things. She did it all out, or she didn't do it all. Apparently Eric was suggesting she do that now, maybe even prove it somehow. Was this some kind of weird pushing test? Get your uncle to cum and you prove that you can and will do this for anyone? It sounded almost insane, but it also made an insane kind of sense. She was going to have weird customers and all, and she did think this would work, right?

Charlie didn't say anything. she scooted forward. Her hands reached up. Fingers began working at pants, dealing with anything that got in the way. Her eyes looked up, again matching her uncle's, defiance lighting hers. The fingers dug into the pants, pulling apart any fabric. They slid with confidence, showing quite clearly that this wasn't the first time. Charlie hesitated only when her fingers first touched what lay inside.

Eric felt fucking huge.

Still, Charlie had started, and she wanted to prove her uncle fucking wrong, if nothing else. So she worked, she pulled, and she lifted her uncle's cock out from his pants. Charlie's hand remained wrapped around the base of it, gripping it tight, her eyes looking daringly up at him, as if to already say another fuck you in her own drunken way.