Manager's Common Sense (2)
"Ah, ugh... I'm so sorry..."
I covered my mouth like some noble lady letting out an oho ho ho laugh. Of course, I wasn't laughing at all—my lips weren't even twitching upward. If anything, my face was flushed beet red, my eyes misty and brimming, ready to spill fat teardrops any second. I'd seen plenty of humiliating sights in public since coming here, but this was a whole new level of shame.
"Ah, um."
"I told you it's fine, didn't I? Wahahaha! Sure, the air around here got a little tainted by the semen smell from your mouth, but it's all good anyway—really!"
"Auuugh..."
Thankfully, Geon-yul seemed to pick up on how down I was and didn't keep teasing me relentlessly. But the Coach? He was the type who never bothered checking his underlings' reactions, chuckling away and poking fun at me nonstop.
C-Calm down. I don't like it, but his reaction's just his idea of a joke. If I snap here, I'll just look like the weird one.
I placed one hand on my heaving chest and stroked downward, taking a deep breath in and out. It helped settle me a bit—the humiliation, and the arousal too.
Not surprised anymore.
Long ago, I'd given up on my body heating up uncontrollably the moment I showed some embarrassing side in front of others, before I could even react. I'd just flashed a mortifying display, so my crotch was already getting slick down there. But now it was fine. With my composure fully restored, I ignored Geon-yul—who was peeking at me uncertainly, unsure what to do—and turned to the Coach to deliver what I'd meant to say all along.
"There's nothing wrong with Kang Geon-yul's physical condition. The semen was thick and concentrated, and it had a fishy taste—probably from eating meat last night. At least from my semen tasting, I didn't detect any health issues."
"Wahahaha, right? Some girls argue you can't tell health from semen taste alone, but once they consciously savor it, they all give answers just like you, Chae-a. Women should just do what men tell 'em to."
"...You're absolutely right. I'm sorry for ever doubting."
I bowed deeply in deference. Geon-yul's expression soured further as he glared daggers at the cackling Coach, but I paid it no mind.
"Just a bit of grandmotherly advice, since I'm worried: you're a manager, Chae-a. Your role is purely to support the players. You're also a woman living to serve men. Don't think you're top dog just 'cause there are more guys than girls around."
"Of course. I'll be a good girl who serves the men well—and a great manager who helps the players too."
"That’s the spirit. Keep that original resolve forever."
Smack!
"Hyaat... Ah, got it."
With that, the Coach—still chuckling—turned to watch the other players training, but not before slapping my ass hard enough to echo. My masochistic side got a thrill from the pain, drawing out an involuntary moan, but I quickly glanced at Geon-yul, cleared my throat, then bowed ninety degrees toward the Coach's retreating back.
"...Hey."
"What? Lots of eyes around. Go train already."
"You... not wearing panties?"
What nonsense is this? The second the Coach was gone, Geon-yul tried pulling some weird prank, and I scowled instantly.
"Who said I'm not wearing any?"
"No, it's just... looks like it's wet down there..."
The other players were still getting their health checks via Ha-eun and Ye-rin, so we had a brief moment for a huddle. But it wasn't safe—absolutely not—so we had to keep our distance and quick. Assuming it was another dumb joke, I played along once, spreading my legs, bending over, and peeking between them.
"Mm..."
I couldn't see great, but yeah, there was definitely a wet spot.
"No, this is..."
Only after a closer look did I get what he meant. Our school's PE shorts were red. Sure, "shorts," but they barely covered any leg—like some bloomer thing from old Japanese trends. Point is, any liquid soaks in and turns that patch a darker red. And he was saying there was a wet spot right at my crotch.
No way she soaked through her panties and wet the shorts too... Did Chae-a take her panties off midway?
...Not a weird thought for Geon-yul to have. I'd openly taken tissues from him earlier to wipe my soaked panties, after all. Logical conclusion.
"So, this is..."
Explaining was simple but tricky. I could say yeah, I'm wearing panties. But then why's the short wet too? My dim brain couldn't whip up a convincing excuse on the spot, so I had no choice but to confess the truth.
"I'm... kinda the type that gets really wet..."
Silence followed. What day is it today? Going beyond burping up semen in front of my old guy friend—now admitting I'm a soaking wet pussy myself. Wait... he already knows I'm the wet type, so why confess? I regretted it the instant the words left my mouth.
What am I doing? Why say that? And why feel shy in front of him anyway?
Thinking about it, yeah. We've been friends since elementary school. Burps and farts—stuff too gross to even mention—we got past that ages ago. So why was I standing here like some shy pubescent girl now?
"I... um..."
Geon-yul looked as flustered as me after hearing my soaking pussy confession. Makes sense—the listener's probably more thrown than the speaker. But unlike me, he regained his cool fast, pulling something small from his pocket and handing it over.
"This...?"
"Key to my locker. There's a towel inside—if you need it later, use it. I'll grab a new one."
"Ah, uwa..."
"Seriously, don't worry about it. Use it, then keep it if you want."
Obvious why he mentioned the towel. Don't struggle wiping with tissues—use a soft one and clean up properly alone. Duck into the locker room midway, wipe down there quick, and done. No big deal.
"Thanks..."
I nodded gratefully. Embarrassing, sure, but sweet of him to think of me. Meanwhile, Geon-yul handed off the key and bolted for training without a backward glance. I stayed put, watching his retreating back for a long while.
"Don't go getting all sweet outta nowhere..."
Something weak welled up—a urge to lean on that broad back—making my chest itch deep inside.
"Ah, the ball flew off!"
"Hey, manager over there—fetch it!"
"Y-Yes sir!"
After the semen-tasting health checks via fellatio, there wasn't much tough work left. Cheering the players from behind, unscrewing water bottles for anyone who asked and serving it politely with both hands. That was it. Things ramped up once basic drills ended and scrimmages began. Water duty aside, the nearest manager had to retrieve any ball that sailed far off.
"Hah, hah..."
The guys had insane energy—balls rolling out of bounds often, or rare home-run smashes clearing fences into the unknown. Managers had to stick out our tongues and sprint like hell every time.
Manager and ball girl, huh….
Fine, fetching balls I get—even if it's a stretch. Helps soccer practice. But ball girl duty meant constant exposure to player sexual harassment.
"Whoa, check her bounce. Tits jiggling like crazy."
"Clapping with her udders and her fat ass?"
"Face red, sweat pouring—fucking hot."
"Wanna slam into Chae-a's sweaty, exhausted anal after all that running..."
"Yo, hold up. Can't have her—she's Geon-yul's exclusive."
"Haa... true. Guess I'll snag the ace next match."
Every sprint back with the ball brought harassment and lecherous stares I couldn't escape. Lucky for me as exclusive manager, it stopped there—but Ha-eun or Ye-rin got it worse.
"Hyaat♡ Got the ball, Captain sir..."
"Ball? This soccer ball? Or this? Why's it brown?"
"Th-That's my tanned tits... Hiyaaang?!"
"Why's this ball got a bump sticking out? Getting hard too."
"That's my nipple... Hnng♡"
Watching that got me aroused too, but I'd clutch the key Geon-yul gave me in my pocket. When it got too rough, I'd slip away, hit the locker room alone, wipe down there with the towel, and rest.
"Kyaaahuuung♡♡"
Then I'd end up watching Ha-eun surrounded by soccer players, their thick fingers ravaging her pussy lips and plunging deep inside chaotically.
"Ngh... Hic... Ah... Haah..."
Me, secretly behind the water fountain, rubbing my soaked-through pussy over my shorts. Nipples untouched, just grinding them against the wall for double stimulation.
No, I-I can't do this...
After a weak climax like that, I barely regained my senses and passed word to Ha-eun—who'd just returned finger-fucked to defeat orgasm herself—before heading to the locker room.
"Gonna grab something I forgot—be right back from the locker room...♡"
"Then can I handle Geon-yul's share too...?"
"...Wanna die?"
"Heh, hehehe... Knew you were a full bitch now too."
"Shut up. B-Back soon. Don't tell anyone..."
Ha-eun smirked knowingly at me, pussy juice streaming down her thighs and knees untouched, calling me one of her kind. I ignored her and walked off.
What're you on about? I'm not some pervert like you. Just stopping by the locker room to quit masturbating and wipe this excessive pussy juice.
Sniff sniff...Squeeze.
The second I entered the locker room, the male musk made my nostrils flare instinctively. I pinched my nose bridge to tamp it down, then hunted for Geon-yul's locker with the towel.
Matching the number on the key was easy—found it quick.
"Number 13... Here!"
Excited to finally wipe this sticky love juice, I ignored the creak and yanked it open. But what I saw inside made my eyes go wide.
"Wh-What the...?"
Towel was there, as promised—neatly folded white one on the right. But my eyes locked first on the left-side stuff.
"Snuuuff—haa... Sniff, sniff..."
Sensing Geon-yul's thick scent on his gym clothes flipped my smell fetish switch. Worn during a match? Sweat permeated deep, obsessively fresh.
"Something like this, fuuuck♡"
Alone in the empty locker room, twisting my legs and clutching my lower belly just from sniffing his gym clothes—I pitied myself. But then I noticed something behind them.
"Th-That...?"
Thick, long, lewd... pillar? Yeah, definitely.
"Why the hell is this here♡"
The dildo we'd made together for art class—Teacher wanted a realistic cock model—so why was it here...?
What the hell am I supposed to do with this...?