The Real Soccer Moms of Beaver County (17 page)

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Authors: Magan Vernon,H.J. Bellus

BOOK: The Real Soccer Moms of Beaver County
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Chapter Thirty-Two

P
ies for Days

"Ladies and Gentlemen, today on our grandstand, it seems we have a bit of a local celebrity roster for our annual pie eating contest," The pudgy guy, who I was informed was the Vice Principal, announced. I guess I should have known more of the authority figures at the school, but I tried to basically be a drive-through Mom and not get eaten up by the PTA moms. Luckily, I had Luna to back me up and carry my slack.

"Our lucky contestants are three-time pie eating champion and Beaver Fall's most winningest volleyball coach, Coach Mo Mabie!" The crowd cheered as the burly woman stood and waved.

"I bet she eats a lot of pie," Brady said, and Clancy laughed alongside him.

"Next up we have returning contestant, and owner of Frankie's Flowers, Frankie Fierello!" The Vice Principal announced as the short, bald Italian man stood and waved.

"Now, our final contestant is a newcomer. He's your rec league, seven and eight-year-old soccer coach and the third grade History teacher, Miles Tucker," The Vice Principal boomed.

Harry, Saige, Sadie, and Annie, all jumped up and down and hollered.

"How’s the little guy going to take on the lesbian and pornstache?" Blanche whispered.

Before anyone could answer her rhetorical question, The Vice Principal blew his whistle and the contestants went at it

Coach Mo went at the thing like a rabid dog and Frankie just kept licking it really fast like it would magically melt.

But Miles...Miles somehow made it look sexy.

He slid his finger along the rim of the pie, then placed the pad of his wet thumb on his lips before licking it. Then he slowly slid his tongue along the crust, taking long hard strokes, before the pie practically melted in his mouth.

I had to wipe the drool off my chin, thinking how good that man's tongue would feel.

The other girls must have been thinking the same thing because Blanche and Luna didn’t look away from the stage, and Queenie had his hand cupped over his skinny jeans as if that was going to hide his massive boner.

"I'm not gay or anything, but if that man can work his tongue on a pie like that, he has to be kick ass below the belt," Clancy said, staring at Miles as he licked the plate clean before the other two contestants.

"Better go give your man a victory hug. Or sit on his face," Queenie said, wagging his eyebrows.

"Oh, no, that's fine, I'll just wait until he comes back here," I said, not sure if I could even move with the puddle that had formed between my legs. Never had I ever been turned on by a pie-eating contest, but at least it wasn't hot dogs, then I might have been even more confused.

"It's cool, Mom. Go see Mr. Tucker and Harry, and I will go on the Ferris Wheel," Brannigan said.

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"Twenty dollars for tickets and my phone back, and I may be," she said with a huge grin.

I rolled my eyes and reluctantly took the phone and a twenty out of my bra. "All right, but as soon as you two are done, we're going to spend quality family time together, okay?"

Brannigan smiled. "Whatever you say, Mom."

Harry and her took off with Saige and Annie following close behind.

"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on them," Luna said. “Go get ‘em, girl.”

I nodded and looked over to the stage where Miles was shaking hands with the other contestants.

"Here goes nothing," I muttered.

When I approached the stage, Miles’ eyes immediately went to mine and he jumped down with a huge grin on his face. "Hey, sorry about leaving you like that."

I waved it off. "No problem, but um..."

I stepped closer and used the pad of my thumb to swipe a dab of apple from the corner of his mouth, then put my thumb to my lips. "You had a little apple on your face."

"I can put it somewhere else," he said, his voice low.

I smirked. "Still with the bad pick-up lines."

He shook his head. "Okay, I'll admit those need work, but can I at least get you to walk with me to my car? I need to change my shirt and should have another one in there."

"Another sweater vest?" I asked.

"Maybe." He smirked and put his hand out.

I reluctantly took it and followed him toward the parking lot, then past the parking lot practically to the cornfields.

"How far out did you park, Miles?" I asked, my heels sinking in the mud.

"Not much farther. How'd you get closer parking?" he asked, heading down a row of trucks.

"I didn't. We walked."

"Do you walk everywhere?" he asked, stopping by a green compact car.

"Yeah. Pretty much. Everywhere I need to be is within walking distance: the school, work, grocery store."

"What about if you need to drive somewhere?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I take my mom or grandma's car."

I really didn’t want to get into the economics of my life or the fact that we lived in Beaver Court apartments, aka divorce court, with all of the divorced moms who wanted to stay in Beaver Falls schools and those of us with limited income. I grew up there with my mom and grandma, and as soon as Harry was born, I moved into my own apartment next door with him and Brannigan. Sure, I wanted to get the hell out of living near them, but with lack of child support from Harry's Dad and bottom of the barrel from Doug, I took what I could get.

"But what about..." Miles started to ask as he opened the backseat of his Honda.

Before he could ask anymore questions, I pulled his face to mine, kissing all the words out of him.

When I pressed against him, I felt the hardening beneath those khakis and he moaned into my mouth.

I thought about the way his tongue worked on that pie and wanted it in more than just my mouth.

Breaking the kiss slightly, I kissed down his neck, looking over his shoulder to see that the carnival was a blurry distance away, and without any lights out by the field there was no way we'd be noticed or interrupted.

"Oops, I think I dropped something," I whispered and pulled back slightly.

Miles raised an eyebrow and looked around. "What?"

I smiled coyly and pulled away, backing toward his car until I was sitting in the back seat. I kept my eyes on his hooded ones, then slowly pulled my panties off before dropping them on the floor of the car. "Oh. There they are."

His eyes widened and the bulge in his pants grew even bigger, so that he was pitching a very large tent. "You may be better at these lines than me."

"Are you up to all of your talk, Coach?" I asked and pulled on his belt loops until he was at the edge of the seat.

I slid my hand down to the front of his pants, and slowly unbuttoned and unzipped, my fingers working faster than my brain that knew we are at a school function and he was my kid's soccer coach. I had the intention to get him in the mood and suck him off . That was before I actually saw the one-eyed monster. I wasn’t expecting the skinny guy to be packing that much heat, and his massive cock would probably knock out my tonsils and a few teeth.

"You, uh, you don't have to do that,” he said slowly.

"Do you not want me? Was this just all a game to fuck the slutty mom?” I spat and pulled away, slumping down in the car seat.

"Fuck," I muttered, putting my head in my hands.

I felt the seat shift next to me and then Miles’ arm go around my shoulder. "Hey, no. This isn't just some game. I'm sorry, Moira, I'm just not that experienced with all of this, I guess," Miles said.

"So what, I'm just the slutty mom you thought you could experiment with but once you got to know me you decided you couldn’t go through with it?" I sobbed, trying not to let the tears push through but they're already falling down my cheeks.

God I was stupid. I didn’t' think a good-looking and smart guy would like a loser like me, and I was right. I had never been this emotional over a guy. I had to be getting my period or something to lash out this much.

"Hey," Miles cooed, lifting my chin and wiping the tears from under my eyes.

Instead of looking at me with pity, there was something else in his eyes. Something I couldn’t quite place.

"Moira, the moment I first saw you walk onto that soccer field, I knew I was a goner. You are one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. and you happen to be a mom to one of the kids on my team. I tried to stay away and knew I wasn't cool enough or experienced, so I tried to fake it. But you see right past me. You see the real awkward me and somehow you still like me. So when you asked if I'm faking it, hell no I'm not Moira. I want you so bad that I could bend you over the backseat of this Honda right now."

"You don't have to do that," I whispered.

Miles smiled and slowly brought my face to his before he placed a gentle kiss on my lips, then deepened it, pushing me back on the seat.

I'd never been kissed so demanding and urgently. A new carnal side of Miles appeared when he flipped me over, kissing a line from my neck to my shoulders before he lifted my skirt up, and I felt a tremendous amount of pleasure as he filled me completely. With the way Miles was talking, I expected him to be awkward and our moves out of sync. But holy fuck, was I wrong as he dove into me, then used one hand to steady my hip and the other to draw small circles over my clit. I was panting and coming, over and over, and had to grab onto the side of the seat to keep myself steady so I wouldn’t fall over

Just as I felt my legs begin to quiver, a knock came at the side of the car and I fell over, going head first into the car. Miles stood up, pulling his pants up. "Hey, Clancy, Blanche."

"What are you two up to?" Blanche asked, coyly.

"Found it! I found my earring!" I said, slowly getting up and playing with the silver hoop in my ear.

"Finding an earring requires your fly to be down, Miles?" Clancy asked, patting him on the back as Miles’ face turned beet red.

I stood up, pulling down my dress and remembered that I wasn’t wearing panties so I crossed one leg over the other. "I guess we should get back to the carnival and find the kids."

Blanche smiled. "No rush, I left Sadie with Harry and they're over in the dunk tank. You two have some time to do whatever you need to finish, and we'll see you guys at the game Saturday," she said with a wink before her and Clancy headed toward a black truck a few rows behind us.

"We should go back," I said, sitting and quickly putting my damp panties on.

"Yeah. You're probably right," Miles said, helping me stand.

Before I could move, he pulled me close and placed a kiss on my lips. "But I'm hoping this won’t be the last time I have you like this."

Chapter Thirty-Three

G
lamma's Gametime

I'd seen Miles every single night that week. Some nights were spent just kicking the ball around the soccer field with Harry or playing cards with Brannigan at the frozen yogurt shop. And usually our walk home ended with my ass up somewhere.

He still hadn't been to my place and I hadn't been to his. Part of me wanted to see his updated apartment in Dollywood, but I also didn't want to get close. I mean we were pretty close in the fact that we were fucking on the regular, but if I let myself see his place… If I were to lay in a bed that had sheets that weren't from the clearance section of the dollar store, then once it was over, I didn’t know how I could go back to my shitty life. It was also why he never came to my place.

The side of the bed tilted, alerting me that the magazines I was using to hold up the broken legs of my Craigslist bed had fallen out.

Groaning, I got out of my wobbly bed and put the fallen Cosmo back under the rusted metal leg.

I glanced at my alarm clock. I still had a few hours before the soccer game and for the first time ever, I actually contemplated what to wear. Usually it would be a little dress and heels, but maybe it was time to change things up.

"Mom, what the hell are you wearing?" Brannigan was camped out on our old plaid couch, staring at her phone. Well, she was until she set it down to stare at me wide-eyed.

"What? Isn't this what a soccer mom wears?" I did a full 360 spin. At the beginning of the season all of the moms were given "Beaver Buddies" soccer mom t-shirts with our kids names and numbers on the back of the bright yellow shirt. I found some of Brannigan's old designer high-waisted jeans that Doug's parents gave her, but she never wore, and managed to slide them over my butt and get on the tennis shoes I wore on my tri-monthly trip to the gym.

"You look like...like..."Brannigan stood up and ran her fingers through her long black ponytail that looked almost identical to mine. She got Doug's height and deep green eyes, but the dark wavy hair was all mine.

"Like what?" I asked.

"A mom," Brannigan said in a low voice.

"I am a mom," I said, checking myself out in the dingy mirror above the couch.

"But you're not like a normal Mom. You're the one who all the other moms whisper about because they're jealous. You always tell me not to try and be something that I’m not just to impress others, so why are you?"

I scoffed, turning toward her. "I'm not. I just thought it couldn't hurt for me to look a little more...well...less me."

"Obviously Miles likes you the way you are, and so do Blanche, Quinn, and Luna. So go upstairs and change out of that thing, before I start having nightmares that I have a normal Mom."

I laughed and pulled Brannigan into a hug. "You know, you’re wise beyond your ten years. How did I get so lucky to have a daughter like you?" I asked.

She smiled, hugging me back. "Good genes, I guess."

Before I could respond that she got them from my side of the family, a half-naked Harry ran in from the backyard. "Glamma and Great Glamma are coming to my soccer game!"

"Harry put on some clothes. No one wants to see your tighty-whities," Brannigan yelled.

I was too busy to yell at him because walking in behind him with a half-lit cigarette and a tight yellow dress was my mother.

"Moira, baby, what the hell are you wearing?" Mom asked, putting her cigarette out in my sink before whipping her giant blown-out dyed blonde hair over her shoulder.

Before I could respond, Mom shook her head. "Never mind. Just tell me where you keep your flask, so Grandma and I can get our drink on if we have to sit in the June heat and watch some little brats run around."

"Mom, you don’t have to go," I replied weakly.

Mom smiled her big, collagen filled lips. "And miss meeting my little girl's new boyfriend and soccer coach? Glamma would never."

* * *

U
sually
, Harry and I walked with Luna and her kids to soccer, but today we had our own army.

"Oh my gawd, don't tell me that's Doug. Jesus he got fat," My grandma, who was barely over fifty and still had the boobs of someone half her age, yelled as soon as we got to the field.

Like a chubby yellow beacon, Brannigan's dad sauntered over to us in his referee uniform.

"Janice. Delia. I didn't know the club let you ladies see the light of day," Doug said with a smirk on his face.

Mom puts her hand on her hip. "And I didn't know you ate the football scholarship you lost, as well as half the team."

Grandma cackled with her, and I took that as my opportunity to slink past them and go toward my friends who were camped out in their usual folding chairs by the bleachers.

"Holy Hell, Moira, did you lose a bet?" Queenie asked, staring me up and down.

I sighed and took the seat next to him. "No, but I may need whatever you have in your Venti cup today."

Luna peered over her sunglasses. "Please don't tell me that's Glamma and Great Glamma talking to Douchey Doug. Do we need to have Queenie distract him?"

Queenie scrunched his face before taking a long sip of his drink.

Blanche raised an eyebrow. "Glamma?"

"When you become a grandma before you’re thirty, I guess you want to be the glam grandma," I muttered.

Harry ran out to the soccer field with his friends, and Brannigan made herself at home on the bleachers with her nose in her phone. I hoped that maybe I wouldn’t talk to Miles until we were free and clear of the Glamma's, but my life couldn't be that easy.

As my smiling, geeky coach in his khakis came running up to me, so did the sky high heels of the Glammas.

"Oh, you must be Coach Miles, we've heard so much about you," Mom cooed.

Miles raised an eyebrow at me before putting his hand out to my mother's manicured one. "Yes. I'm Coach Miles Tucker."

"I'm Janice, Harry's Glamma and this is my mom, Delia, Harry's Great Glamma," Mom said, putting her hand on Grandma’s tanned back.

Grandma smiled, coming forward and pushing her equally bright blonde hair behind her ears. "You must be the fella that's going out with Moira every night. If you want a real woman, there are plenty of us at the club," she said, pulling out a business card from her cleavage.

I stood up, putting a barrier between Miles and the Glamma's. "Ha, very funny Grandma. We're all laughing." I tried to laugh for good measure, but just sounded like a crazy person.

"Beavers, Badcocks, five-minute warning," Doug said, adjusting his large gym shorts and licking his lips as he passed by us.

I swore I saw his eyes linger toward Queenie, but Queenie kept his head down, sipping from his drink.

I let out a breath, the only time I’d ever been happy for Doug's interruption. "Okay, team, let's huddle up," Miles said, shooting a wink in my direction before he headed toward the field with the team.

"Your baby daddy looks like he could eat your skinny new boyfriend," Mom said as she unfolded her camping chair that, of course, had some kind of liquor logo proudly displayed on the back of it.

"I think the skinny one is kind of cute, in the guy-you'd-bang-for-fixing-your-computer kind of way," Grandma said, setting up her camping chair with a cigarette logo on the back.

"This is going to be an entertaining game and I'm not talking about on the field," Queenie said, taking a long sip from his straw.

"Hey, ear holes, got any more of what's in that cup to share with Glamma?" Mom asked Queenie.

Queenie adjusted his sunglasses then stared at me. Luckily, Luna replied for me. "Queenie, Blanche, I'm not sure you've met Moira's Mom, Janice, and her grandma, Delia."

Queenie spit out half of his drink and it smelled like sour bananas. "Grandma? Kitten, you have got to tell me what product you are using because you two do not look like grandmas or great-grandmas. Moira your genes are fabulous, girl, meow!" Queenie said, doing cat claws.

"Sex, cigarettes, and more sex," Mom said, laughing as she scooted closer to Queenie and he passed her his drink.

"No wonder you screwed the first guy you could, anything to get out of the house and away from Cruella and Maleficent," Blanche whispered.

"Tell me about it," I muttered.

With Queenie, and my mom, and grandma gabbing, the game went on with Saige dominating, like a little long-haired soccer dynamo.

Harry, of course, was too busy picking flowers and giving them to Sadie, and not playing his position.

"Fucking Harry, does he even know what he's doing out there? Your little fruit loop of a kid could use a man in his life. Maybe you'll keep soccer coach around for more than a few rolls in your broke ass bed," Mom said before she tipped her head back and cackled.

Blanche opened her mouth to say something, but I stood up first. Normally, I would have just turned and stomped off and maybe complained to Luna later. But there was something brewing underneath my high-waisted jeans that I hadn't felt in a long time.

"That's enough, MOTHER," I spat.

Mom looked up, her spider-like lashes batting. "Excuse me?"

I balled my hands into tight fists. "Mom, Glamma, whatever the hell you want to be called. All my life I've lived in the shadow of my teen mom turned stripper. I tried my hardest not to follow in your footsteps, and unfortunately I made a mistake and did get pregnant. But you know what? I'm trying. I've been trying to better myself and when I get just a little bit ahead, I get fucked over. But not anymore, Ma. Not anymore. I'm part of the mother fucking real soccer moms of Beaver County and if you don’t like your sideline sitting, coach dating daughter, then you can go fuck yourself and stay home."

Grandma and Mom stared at me open-mouthed before they started flustering up a half-ass response.

I held my hand up. "Save it."

I turned to Luna. "Can you take Harry home? I need a walk.”

Luna nodded. Brannigan was supposed to go home with Doug, and didn’t even look up as I stomped off the field toward home. It wasn’t until I got inside my shitty apartment that I finally let the tears fall.

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