Fair Game

"AAAAAAhhhhh GEEEEEEEZZZZZZ MAAAAaHHHHoooooonneyyyyy!!!!!!" The coach was screaming at Michael to get back on the field, but when that girl called him, he didn't care about anything else. He could hear her whisper or see her coming from miles away. She was kind of a little thing. All blonde with frizzy curls. She has got the biggest palest blue eyes. Like looking into a fish bowl. Michael told her that once and she got mad. He thought it was a nice thing to say. She got all pouty and nasty about it. It was all a game though, she never really got mad and he knew it. Today she came to the field again during practice. She just walked right out too. The coach always goes nuts blowing his whistle and having fits. She loves to stir things up. As soon as Michael gets near her all the other guys start being stupid, whistling, calling, making noises and gestures. Coach is screaming, but all Michael hears is that little squeaky voice of hers. "I came by to say hello", her voice is so sweet to him. She touches his shirt with her finger, looking up into his eyes. Wrinkling her nose as if in distaste at the sweat and the grime, but smiling and saying "stinky" in a silly way. Michael is grinning and doesn't know or care what is going on behind him on the field. They talk for a few minutes till she turns and walks away, turning several times to blow kisses or call a few last words, walking backward then.

Things had disintegrated on the field and the whistle blows ending practice. The team rushes back inside, Coach yelling to Mahoney to plan on a session, no more warnings. Michael walks in, his helmet dangling from his hand. Still grinning and looking happy as that clam we hear about being as happy as. He is the last inside, the last in the shower and the last out too. As the rest of them leave, they punch or smack Michael, making comments about the session with Coach. Michael grins and goes along with the joking, not concerned at all. "Must be used to it by now!", calls someone as the last of them leave. Michael stands drying himself waiting for the summons to the Coach's office which comes quickly. Wrapping the towel around his ample waist, Michael strides to the office and without being told a thing, drops the towel and leans forward with his arms outstretched, hands on his knees. "Mahoney, don't you even care about this?", the coach asked, SWATTING a large well worn paddle against the naked butt of the football player. "It's okay Coach", Michael answers in a calm voice as another mighty SMMMMAAAAACCCCKKKK! lands across both cheeks. "I know the rules", he adds after a slight pause. WHHAACCCKKK! the sounds of the paddle and Coach's confused lecture echo through the office for several minutes. "How many Coach", asks Michael after the fifth strike. "Ten", he is told, "Okay", is Michael's grunting response.

After the tenth stroke, Michael stands quickly, without even a hint of any discomfort or embarrassment, he picks up the towel and heads for the door, "Can I leave now, Coach? You done?" The coach shakes his head, "Yeah, I guess. For all you get out of any of it. No more Mahoney!! I mean it! Keep her off the field!!", he yells after Michael's retreating red butt, shaking his fist irritably at Michael, he didn't understand this kid at all. "Go ahead. Get out. But NO MORE OF THIS WITH THAT GIRL! NO MORE INTERRUPTIONS ON THE FIELD!!" , he shouted after him. "Sure Coach, no problem." Mahoney was dressed and out of there with a big grin on his face before the coach was back to the sports page. "Wierd kid", he thought, settling in to his reading.

Getting into the car hurt and Michael let out a cheerful YEEOUCH!! as his butt hit the seat. He drove quickly home skidding to a stop and sprinting up the path, pounding on the apartment door, too impatient to get his key. Missy opened the door slowly, standing there in a cute short pink nightie with white ruffles all around the top and the edges of its puffy little sleeves. The nightie had puffy little panties that went with it, and they had little ruffles at the legs too. The ruffles all had tiny heart shaped holes in them. Michael stood looking at her thinking she was just the best and cutest little thing around. Her little white toes, with their little pink nails. She was just so sweet and adorable. He reached for her and she giggled, holding out both hands in front of her, stepping quickly backward. "Well?", she asked eagerly. He nodded and stepped toward her, grinning big and happy. "Really?", she asked again, laughing harder and backing away faster. "Yes, really!", he said and laughed too. Missy turned and ran giggling and screaming as Michael chased and caught her up in his arms, bouncing her like a rag doll as he shifted her until her legs hung straight down. Missy squealed and squirmed, smacking at him happily until he held her tight in his arms, her bottom resting in his arms which formed a nice little seat for her nice little seat which sat on the arms crossed under it. He jiggled her up and down a few times, both laughing as he spun in circles, Missy clinging to his neck and pretending to be frightened. "Know what this means?", he asked. Missy dropped her head back and laughed again, pounding her little fists on his shoulders. "I don't believe you! I don't. I have to see first!" she yelled quickly kissing him on the face several times. "Don't believe me!? Don't believe me!? I'll show you!", Michael said, bouncing her down to the floor where she dashed to stand behind him, tugging at his jeans while he still fumbled with the fastenings. The jeans and underwear fell to his knees and Missy grabbed with both hands at his bottom and he jumped and yelled that it hurt, laughing while she laughed with him, squeezing the big red cheeks, patting the one or two bruises that were beginning to purple. She ran her little hands wildly around his hot bottom pinching and patting until he turned clumsily with his jeans at his knees and grabbed her up again.

"Know what this means?", he asked again. "NO!", she laughed, "tell me!" Tucking her under one arm like a big fluffy football, holding his drooping pants up with the other hand, Michael ran toward the bedroom while she shrieked and giggled and kicked. "It's your fault! and you have to be spanked!", he yells adding to the noise in the small apartment. They fell together on the bed, Michael lightly spanking her bottom as they did with tiny rapid swats. "How many?" , Missy said, sitting straight up on his chest. Michael laughed and grabbed her lifting her up above him, holding her kicking and screaming in the air, bouncing and jiggling, pretending to drop her before sitting up and pulling her over his knee.

Michael's big hand spanked her bouncy round pajama pantied bottom. "Plenty!", he said. "Oh no! OWWWEEEE!!", Missy yelled in giggly despair. "Not too hard!", she begged in pretended horror as Michael's hand SMACKED her again. "NO! Not my panties! Not on the bare!", she screamed in laughing fear as her ruffly puffy things flew across the room. "I thought you LOVED ME!!", Missy shrieked in delight. "Oh boy, do I!" Michael bellowed happily in reply.