This is a mobile proxy. It is intended to visit the IOMfAtS Story Shelf on devices that would otherwise not correctly display the site. Please direct all your feedback to the friendly guy over at IOMfAtS!

Soggy Soccer

by Nick Brady

Copyright 2016 – Nick Brady

Aidan Gomez lived for soccer. Ever since he started to play at the age of 6, all he wanted to do was to play soccer. Little League baseball was OK, but for Aidan, soccer was it. Now that he was 13 and playing for the third year with the Highland Park Hornets he was getting pretty darn good at it. They had a game every Saturday morning and practiced two evenings a week. When not involved with his team he was promoting a pickup game with the guys in the neighborhood. Aiden's family had migrated to Florida from Columbia and his passion for soccer was genetic.

He liked to watch Youtube videos of guys who could do all kinds of tricks with the ball, and did his best to learn the moves. He could juggle the ball in the air with first one foot and then the other, bouncing it up with his knee, then the side of his foot, then up to bounce from his head and then back to a foot. With practice he managed to keep it off the ground for several minutes without using his hands. Every day he ran to school and back while kicking a soccer ball, trying to control the ball so as to keep it moving without breaking his stride. Aiden was obsessed.

The Hornets were populated by a group of boys who also loved the game, and had played together for several years. Not surprisingly, his best friend was his teammate Bobby, a redheaded boy he had played soccer with since the third grade. Aidan could play almost any position but today he would be the goalie and Bobby was their dependable striker. The other boys on the team had been playing for as long as they had, and as a result they had a very good team. They had won all but one their regular season games and today was the day for the playoff with chief rival the Wilson Whippets.

"I think it's gonna rain," Bobby declared.

"So what, it's rained off and on all week," Aidan replied, "We'll play anyway."

"You think? Sometimes they cancel a game if it's raining hard."

"Sometimes, but this is the playoff and the last weekend of the season. The Whippets will have to drive over from Bristow and they'll be pissed if the game is canceled. I bet we play."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Besides it's not raining right now. Maybe it will clear off."

"Maybe. Anyway, we need to suit up, the game is at 10:00 and coach wants us to be there an hour early to warm up."

Bobby had spent the night with Aidan and brought his soccer uniform with him so they could go to the game together. They got up from Aidan's bed and began to change clothes. Bobby shucked his briefs and pulled on a jock strap, his soccer shorts and shirt, then pulled on knee socks and started lacing his shoes. When he finished he slipped the shin guards down the front of his socks and stood to look at Aiden who was sitting with his uniform in his hands watching his friend dress.


"I was just thinking about the game," Truth be told, Aidan's attention was caught by the sight of his friend's smooth white body and the orange clump of pubic hair that stood out like a bright flag under his belly.

Aidan quickly changed his own clothes, somewhat aware of the sparse crop of straight black hair that adorned his own body. He liked Bobby, not only because his friend was a good soccer player and all around fun guy, but because he was struck in the contrast between their appearance. Where Aidan had a permanent tan and straight black hair resulting from his Hispanic heritage, Bobby was very fair with a shock of curly red hair and a splashing of freckles across his arms and shoulders. He had joked one time that they were like salt and pepper and Bobby had laughed at that.

Now that they were dressed for the game they wandered into the kitchen to the smell of breakfast cooking. "You boys hungry?" Aidan's mother asked. "Sit down and eat some pancakes. You'll need some energy for the big game."

No further encouragement was required and the young athletes did some serious carbo loading, washing the cakes down with a big glass of orange juice. They thanked the cook and went out to the car in the driveway to be shuttled to their big game.

They arrived at the soccer field to find their coach and about half the team already there. They sat on a bench at the side of the field to wait for the others who soon arrived.

Looking out over the soggy grass, Bobby remarked, "It looks pretty wet."

"Yeah, but it's not raining now. I think we'll play."

When the rest of their team arrived they began a few warm-up drills and watched for the Whippets who arrived in a pair of vans. Bobby and Aidan looked them over as they climbed out and carried their equipment to the opposite side of the field.

"Some of those guys look pretty big," Bobby observed.

"That don't mean nothing. We're better," Aidan said with confidence. "I'm the goalkeeper and they won't get much past me."

Coach had them line up and do a series of stretches and soon it was time for the game to begin. A pair of men in striped shirts arrived to officiate and the small bleachers were about half filled with an assortment of parents and interested spectators. The game was on.

The Whippets won the toss and threw in the ball, trying to work it down to their goal between a very determined group of Hornets. The ball changed hands a dozen times, going out of bounds and being tossed back in by whoever had possession at the time. Finally the Hornets worked it down to their goal and Bobby tapped one in to the cheers of their portion of the assembled fans.

Now it was the Whippets who took possession again and tried to even the score. Again the ball changed hands and possession went back and forth a number of times. These boys might all be 13 and under but they had a lot of experience and the teams were evenly matched. With a burst of speed one of the Whippets took a long pass and headed it towards the goal. Aidan leaped up and caught it, sliding several feet over the wet ground as he descended. The Whippets were denied.

Bobby and Aidan did a little dance then looked up at the sky as the heavens opened up and it started to rain. The two gave each other a grin and the play resumed. The officials had a quick exchange and since there was no lightening in evidence elected to continue the game. "Play on!"

Now things started to get tricky. The wet ground soon got even wetter and the area in front of the goals was standing water. Nevertheless, the play continued with the ball skidding across the slop rather than bouncing as from firm ground. The result was both challenging and somewhat comical as the players from both teams began to lose their footing and tumble when they tried to quickly change directions.

Both teams tried their best to work the ball across the muddy field and try to score through the pouring rain. These were young boys after all, and the novelty of the situation was not lost on them. They collided and fell, getting up to laugh and try again. It became as much a mud fight as a soccer game and neither team was able to score again.

When the action stopped at the half, the officials huddled with the coaches from both teams to decide whether to continue or not. The Hornets were ready to stop, knowing that they would be credited with a win if the game was called. As might be expected the Hornet coach was determined for the game to go on, hoping that a victory might still be a possibility. They had driven all the way from Bristow and did not want to return home with a loss. The officials decision was that as long as there was no lightning they would play on in spite of the rain, warning that at the first crack of thunder the game would be called.

The players tossed their orange peels in the trash, wiped their hands and faces on a towel and went back on the field. It was a mess. Play continued for another ten minutes as they valiantly tried to score on each other. Aidan was having a good time. With all the rain and a little breeze it was getting chilly, but he found his slides through the mud to be great fun. As he predicted, nothing got by him and when a flash of light and a peal of thunder brought the game to an abrupt end, the Hornets were still ahead one to nothing. By now it was apparent to even the Whippet coach that the game was over. There was a cheer from both teams and what hardy fans that had remained, and the two teams lined up to congratulate each other with good natured laughter.

Bobby and Aidan went to the car park and waited for Aidan's mom to trot over under a large umbrella. "Oh my Lord, you boys are going to get mud all over my car," she complained, and pulled a stack of old newspapers from the trunk and spread it over the back seat. The two muddy boys crawled in trying not to touch anything and filled the car with laughter as they returned back to Aidan's house. "Now get in the shower and I'll fix you something to eat," Mrs. Gomez instructed.

They removed their shoes at the door and tip-toed to the bathroom. Once inside they closed the door and looked at each other to inspect their sorry state. Both boys were coated with brown mud.

"Hey, now we are the same color," Bobby laughed. "We're both brown."

"Well not for long," Aidan said as he turned on the water and found the proper temperature.

The mud smeared uniforms were dropped to the floor and both boys looked at each other. Bobby was mud brown on his head, arms and knees. His red hair was coated with the sloppy stuff. When he removed his clothes, even his torso was a darker color from what had soaked though his shirt. The only part of him that showed his usual white color was the top of his thighs. Even his butt cheeks had mud soaked through on them. Aidan was still brown all over although the mud was a somewhat different shade of brown from his skin. Aidan looked at Bobby and laughed. There just above his penis was a bright orange patch of pubic hair. It stood out from the rest of him like a beacon.

They stepped under the shower and took turns letting the warm water rinse off most of the mud. A bar of soap was passed back and forth to remove the rest. "Hey, wash my back, will you?" Bobby asked.

Aidan soaped his friends back with pleasure. The freckles on his arms and shoulders began to reappear. He ran his soapy hands over Bobby's butt and down the back of his thighs. Bobby giggled at the unfamiliar touch but decided that he rather liked it. When he turned around his smile was still there.

"Want to wash my front too?" he asked.

"Sure," Aidan replied and soaped up Bobby's chest, running his hands over the smooth white skin of his friend. He had wanted to do this for a long time but this was his first opportunity. When he knelt down to soap the front of Bobby's legs he found himself with a swelling penis near his face. "You want me to wash everything?" he asked.

"If you like," Bobby giggled.

Aidan rubbed the bar of soap over bobby's erection and washed his cock and balls, carefully scrubbing the the orange ruff of hair. He liked the feeling of Bobby's erection in his hand but was afraid to stroke it outright, being unsure of his friends reaction. Finally he stood and declared, "Now it's my turn, you can wash me."

Bobby smiled and took the bar of soap to return the favor. He washed Aidan's back very thoroughly and when Aidan turned around, his brown penis was at full mast.

Bobby giggled and asked, "Want me to wash everything?"

"Oh yeah, wash me good."

Bobby dutifully scrubbed his friend from head to toe. He laughed and said, "Hey you're already brown, I can't tell what is you and what is mud."

"Well, just wash it real good and see what happens," Aidan chuckled.

Bobby did a through job, paying special attention to Aidan's uncut cock. He decided that the extra skin was sort of fun to play with but stopped short of spending as much time as he might have liked. After a minute he stood to let them both rinse off the soap.

Aidan sighed with pleasure. He would like to have continued this game but stepped out of the shower and picked up a towel for both of them. They dried off, wrapped the towels around their waists and hurried into Aidan's bedroom to put their clothes back on.

When they stepped out of the bathroom the smell of a frying chicken greeted them and both boys realized that they were very hungry.

"Hey, good game," Aidan said to Bobby. "You made the only score."

"Yeah, and you stopped everything they kicked at you, just like you said you would" Bobby agreed. "This was a lot of fun today. Even the shower," and he smiled shyly.

"Aidan looked at his redheaded friend. "You think your mom would let you sleep over again tonight?"

"I don't know," Bobby grinned, "but I'll ask her."



This story is part of the 2016 story challenge "Inspired by a Picture: Cold, Wet, and Muddy". The other stories may be found at the challenge home page. Please read them, too. The voting period of 3 June 2016 at noon, to at noon on 30 June 2016 (times in UTC) is when the voting is open. This story may be rated, below, against a set of criteria, and may be rated against other stories on the competition home page.

The challenge was to write a story inspired by this picture:

Cold, Wet, and Muddy
Please rate Soggy Soccer with the impressions it left you with

Either while reading this story, or afterwards, I found it to be/had/made me (Tick all that apply)

An emotional read
Written with rhythm and pace
Thought provoking
Well laid out (paragraphs etc)
Technically well written
Written with good use of grammar and syntax (this does not mean pedantic use)
Easy to read
It invited me in
I could not put it down
Cheering (made me happy)
I identified with at least one of the characters
It felt like it was about me. I know it wasn't, but it felt like it
The plot was tough to read. (a tough [good] experience, not hard to read)
Not just prose, but almost a 'tone poem'
There could be spelling/grammar/punctuation improvements
Interpreted the picture well

Current Results

Read More Stories by this Author
Talk about this story on our forum

Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.

[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]

* Some browsers may require a right click instead