by Tia Winston
“Tommy, please don’t make me say it again. I don’t want to be the one always turning you down. It’s just better if we keep things platonic.”
I wished he’d move on already. It’d been nearly a year and he hadn’t ever mentioned being with or even talking to someone else. I didn’t want him holding onto the idea of getting back together; it was too dangerous of an option for me on the days when I was feeling sad and lonely. It was my fault really; with the “goodbye” sex. As if we were ever going to lead separate lives with three children to raise. I wanted him to know that I still loved him; I just didn’t want to be married to him anymore.
It was a dumb idea, and now I found myself repeating the same rejection at least once a week. I hated to see the disappointment on his face. It was enough to give him a pity BJ, if I wasn’t too sore to kneel.
“I keep telling you that you need a girlfriend,” I said.
“How’s that gonna help? She won’t be you.”
“But she will let you have sex with her and that’s all you really need, right?”
“I guess.”
“Then go,” I said pushing him towards the door. “Throw on a coat, find a bar and get laid. Just make sure she’s not a hooker or a tranny.”
“So you’ll do my volunteer hours?” he asked as I opened the door.
“Yes, if you stop trying to sleep with me, I’ll do your hours.”
“I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises.” He planted a lingering kiss on my cheek and copped a feel of my ass before he left with a grin.
Why did I let him do that? I knew why –because I felt like shit for breaking up our family, for throwing away a great man who I was certain would love me forever. Any amount of time I spent with him was followed by immediate regret, especially that night as I watched him leave. I didn’t even want to think about how Tommy would feel if he knew I’d had sex with someone else. I couldn’t take hurting him anymore than I already had. I was so distracted that a couple of minutes passed before the reality of our agreement brought me to a standstill.
What was I going to do? There was no way I’d make it five days without bumping into Mason. Would he recognize me when he saw me? The thought made my partially healed pussy pucker. My neck tensed as the urge returned with a vengeance. My body hadn’t even fully recovered and now I wanted sex –correction –I wanted sex with Mason.
I headed upstairs, shaking my head as I went. “This is going to be one miserable week,” I whispered to myself.
Chapter 7
It was a miracle. I’d made it three days without a single sight of Mason, but it wasn’t without great effort. I kept busy in the classroom and stayed out of the halls, which I’d officially dubbed the danger zone.
When I thought about the dozen or so times I’d literally bumped into Mason, I got butterflies in my stomach and flushed in the face. Part of me wanted to see him just to re-affirm his image in my fantasies. Every morning before I woke the kids, and again at night after they’d gone to bed, I’d pleasured myself to the memories of having him deep inside of me. I had a thirst that I realized only Mason could quench. The night before, I’d become so desperate that I’d nearly called Tommy.
At least one good thing had come out of our agreement; we hadn’t spoken in three days. It was a record for him. Sure he’d called to say goodnight to the kids, but he hadn’t stayed on the line to chat, which was good because being as horny as I was, I would’ve invited him over. He was probably worn out from golfing all day, while I was stuck playing teachers aid/gym teacher. I rather enjoyed being on the field with the kids. It reminded me of my years of watching Linda run track. Plus, anything physical helped redirect some of my excess energy.
A day of boy’s basketball wasn’t what I was expecting when the volunteer coordinator handed me my assignment for the day.
“Sorry to keep sticking you with the boys. It’s just when I planned the schedule for the year, I assumed your husband would be doing these.”
“Ex-husband, I corrected her for the twentieth time.”
“Right, sorry.”
“It’s no problem. I have a son, so I pretty much know how they operate. Is that all?” I asked, feeling antsy. The main office was no place to be when you were trying to avoid the principal.
“Oh, Coach Adams called in sick this morning, so you’ll be working with a sub.”
Great, the last sub I volunteered for left me teaching the whole class while she watched videos on her smart phone.
“Good morning, ladies,” I heard a voice announce outside her door and my heart stopped.
“Good morning, Principal Zackary,” the secretaries replied.
The air left my lungs and I gripped the arms of my chair as an aftershock spiked between my thighs. Just hearing his voice made me want to pounce.
“Are you all right dear?” the coordinator asked. I’d forgotten she was even there.
“Yes, I’m fine.” But when I looked down, I realized I was hovering off my seat, using my elbows for balance. “I, uh…got a cramp in my leg. I’ll be fine by the time I get to the gym.”
I stood and peaked out of the small window in the door. Why did her office have to be in the center of the main office? I had to cross the principal’s office just to get to the exit. Luckily, his door was closed, so I made a run for it, snatching up my volunteer pass and rushing off without a goodbye. Poor manners officially trumped running into the guy I’d let bang me raw.
The sub, Mr. Wilcox, was even worse than I thought. He was overweight and more fluent in comic books than basketball, which was probably why he didn’t understand why you’re never supposed to stand under the hoop.
Donald Robinson, a six-foot-tall seventh grader, made an impressive half court shot that I would’ve cheered for had the ball not clocked Mr. Wilcox in the back of the head.
“Are you all right?” I yelled as I ran over. “Can one of you boys go get the nurse?”
Mr. Wilcox had a peculiar grin on his face as I felt the back of his head for lumps.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” I asked, holding up one.
“Three,” he giggled.
“Oh boy.” I unzipped my sweat jacket and tucked it under his head.
“Please don’t rat me out, Mrs. Anderson. My mom said I can’t get into anymore trouble or I’ll lose my skateboards,” Donald said.
“Don’t worry, it wasn’t your fault. Just do me a favor and get the other boys to head to the locker room. The bell should be ringing in a few minutes anyway.”
“You got it.”
“You’re going to be all right, Mr. Wilcox. The nurse is on her way.”
“You’re a cute little kitten,” he said bopping my nose. “But I can’t take you home. I’ve got a big, big dog.”
The way he was talking, I wondered if I should have called for an ambulance.
The EMT’s wheeled Mr. Wilcox out on a stretcher during lunch. I was too traumatized to eat so I stayed to set up drills for the next class. I was in the utility closet, loading up on balls when I heard the gymnasium doors open. Man, this school was fast with the substitutes.
“I’ll be right there,” I yelled as I finished loading my bag. It was a little too heavy to carry, so I dragged them out and the net got stuck on something.
“Here let me help you with that,” a familiar voice said, causing me to trip over my own feet. I released the net and went tumbling backwards, crashing right into Mason’s warm and solid chest.
“One more fall and I might have to shut this place down today,” he joked as he helped me back to my feet. “Are you all right?”
There were five alarm blazes sparking up between my thighs and my heart was threatening to rocket right out of my chest as I felt his bare arms. They were so manly I couldn’t help but give them a little squeeze.
He drew them back and I gasped as our eyes met.
“I am so sorry about that.” The heat had traveled up the back of my neck.
“It’s all right,” he
said as he rubbed the back of his neck looking a little embarrassed. “Okay, obviously squeezing on school grounds is inappropriate, but if you promise not to do it again, I won’t hold it against you.”
Oh, god. He probably thought I was some kind of sexual predator. “I promise and I swear I’ve never done anything like that before.”
“Well…all right then.”
My, did he look good in basketball shorts. I kept sneaking peeks of his crotch as we rounded up the loose balls.
“So, you’re filling in for Mr. Wilcox?” I asked, as if his basketball clothes weren’t indication enough.
“Yeah, it beats being stuck in my office.”
I could think of a million places we could be together at that moment. Or better yet, a million positions we could be trying out. I bent over to pick up a ball and felt moisture escape my pussy lips.
“Oh, no,” I whispered as I felt it slowly spreading up my crack. I quickly shot up and turned to face him. The whole scene reminded me of the first time I got my period, but this was so much worse. I was a thirty seven year old woman who still couldn’t control her hormones.
“So how has the volunteering been so far?”
“Great, until you walked in,” I murmured.
“What was that?”
“I said great. Everyone has been very welcoming.”
“That’s good to hear. You know we could always use a fulltime T.A.”
“I’m not sure my kids would like the idea of me moving in on their turf.”
I also wasn’t sure about being in the same building with him five days a week. I bit down on my bottom lip as the delicious thought of him bending me over the bleachers and sliding into my slick pussy caused me to gasp. I could feel the heat in my cheeks and covered my mouth. Would you get a hold of yourself? Luckily, he’d taken over set up of the obstacle course and didn’t notice.
“I guess you’re right. Now that I think about, I wouldn’t have wanted my mom hanging around school either.”
“You mean you weren’t the class president saint?”
“More like a tri-athlete with a huge ego.”
That wasn’t the only thing huge about him.
“How about you?”
The closest I ever got to sports were the athletes I made out with, and I was quickly coming to consider Mason my personal Heisman.
“I was more into drama, but my sister, Linda, ran track up until her junior year in college.”
Suddenly he was the one tripping over the equipment. I rushed to help him up. “Maybe there is something wrong with this floor,” I said as he turned and looked up at me. Our eyes locked and there was something different about him. His eyes were brown.
I shook my head and took a step back.
“Sorry, you were saying something about your sister.”
I barely heard him I was so busy replaying my night at the club. I knew I was drunk, but I distinctly remembered his grey eyes, a far cry from the espresso irises boring into me at that moment.
“I need to go,” I announced as I backed up towards the exit. “I’m sorry. I’ll have my ex-husband make up the hours. I just can’t…I need to go home.” The bell rang as I burst through the doors.
If Mason wasn’t Sam, who the hell did I have sex with? I unlocked my trunk and dug out my phone to call Linda, but a new text message popped up when I unlocked my phone.
Member Sam has requested a private meeting Friday night at 8pm.
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Author
Tia Winston is from Arizona where the heat can drive ordinary people to do very naughty things. She writes erotica about women exploring their buried desires.
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Twitter: @tiawinston
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