Coach Me

by Lulu Pratt

  Simon must have realized this, because he added, “You’re not gonna knock me down. It’d take a tractor to move me once I’m in a good handstand.”

  His voice was muffled, presumably from his entire personage being the wrong way up, but I was able to make out the directions, and in turn walked until I was right alongside him.

  “Good. Do you see which muscles I’m using?”

  I nodded, then remembering he couldn’t see me, said aloud, “Yeah, I do.”

  “Touch my abs, and feel how I’m engaging my entire core.”

  Tentatively, but with desperate longing, I reached out a trembling hand and placed it ever so lightly on his stomach. It was hot to the touch. Like he’d said, his entire core was so firm you could crack an egg on it. My hand wandered just a little bit too close to the waistband of his joggers, so I nearly jumped when he asked:

  “Got it?”

  Through difficult breaths, I replied, “Mm-hmm.”

  “Okay.” With that, he came gently out of his handstand until at last he was back on his feet. He turned to me, his face now ruddy from the blood that had been rushing to it. The blood made his blue eyes stand out even more, enough so that I could see their every flicker. Just then, they were busy running over my body. God, did I have the strength to resist him?

  “Your turn,” he said, interrupting my inappropriate thoughts.

  I exhaled and took his position in the space.

  “You know what to do?” Simon asked.

  “Um, I think so.”

  “All right, let’s see. I’ll be here to catch you if you fall.”

  That was reassuring, since I was most definitely going to fall. I studied the ground below me, thought through the movements of my body, and then nodded. This was totally doable.

  I leaned forward, stuck my hands to the ground, and kicked my legs up in the air, crying, “Look, I did—”

  Just as I was about to say ‘it,’ my body tilted and I plummeted to the earth. I was going to land on my back and have the wind knocked out of me. I braced for total impact.

  But no impact came.

  I opened my eyes, which had tightened shut during the descent, and saw that Simon had been good to his word — he’d caught me, mid-fall, in those powerful arms. He shifted his hands to my hips and move to the side so I could right myself and stand. Now, we were chest to chest, just like that first day in the woods. Only this time, there was no frantic scrambling to get away from one another, no escaping the situation.

  His face was inches from mine, and my arms had, of their own volition, slid around his long neck, grazing the edges of his shoulders.

  “Are you okay?” Simon asked with concern.

  There was no resisting anymore. Fuck the scholarship. I needed him more than I’d ever needed anything before.

  “I am now,” I whispered, moving my face closer to his.

  He replied, his voice straining, “We can’t.” I knew what he meant without needing clarification.

  “So what?” I returned.

  Simon’s eyes were flames, open flames on cold water, their movements searing me. I could see his teeth clench, the action creating additional shadows along his jawline. He was trying so very hard to resist temptation, until suddenly he wasn’t.

  His mouth found mine, his lips parting my own. Simon kissed me like it was the last kiss he’d ever have, like the fate of the world hung in the balance.

  And I kissed him right back.

  My arms clenched tighter around his shoulders and he hugged me closer, our faces ducking and weaving so that our lips could encircle one another more fully.

  A deep growl emerged from his throat, and I knew that whatever line might have been in the sand had now been crossed. With me in his arms, his lips still locked to mine, Simon sank to his knees. Was it a kneel of martyrdom, or a kneel of holy worship?

  He deposited me gently on the ground, and I knew that the answer was the latter. Those eyes roamed across my body with a newfound freedom, like they’d been chained to their fixed position for too long. He took in my heaving breasts, the erect nipples that showed through the thin fabric, the hips that I was grinding against the dirt with desperate need.

  “I’m going to devour you,” he said simply, then pressed his mouth against mine once more.

  Chapter 17

  Simon

  Fuck it.

  I was done trying to deny my attraction to Catya, to pretend like I didn’t notice how brilliant she was, how funny, how hot. Enduring her temptations was impossible. Trust me — I’d tried. Now, I was ready to give into my body.

  But before we could go any further, I had to do one last check.

  “Catya,” I said, reluctantly pulling my mouth away from her soft one. “Are you sure about this?”

  She pressed her chest up to me, and replied, “Don’t I seem sure?”

  With a grin, I ran my hand from her shoulder, down the taper of her waist and to the flare of her thigh, which I gripped and hugged closer to me. Her body was opening for me like a flower, inviting me in with a full-bodied scent and beautiful petals.

  “Yes,” I replied earnestly. “But you know that this — us — could cause a ton of trouble, right?” Of course she knows, my brain said sarcastically. She’s not an idiot, give her a little credit.

  Her nails dug into my back as she said, “Of course I know,” as though she’d read straight from the text of my mind. She went on, saying, “My scholarship, your job… everything’s at risk. I don’t fucking care. I want you, badly. And I’m pretty sure you feel the same.”

  “So…” I trailed off.

  “So you should probably take me right here, right now, in the middle of this forest, because what I want most in all the world is to fuck your brains out.”

  That was all I needed to hear.

  I dove back to her with an unexpected ferocity, clasping her face between my hands as my lips pressed against hers, my body hovering over her body. Beneath me, I could feel her squirming around, doing something, and when I finally broke away from her kiss to see what the commotion was, I discovered that she had stripped off her pants to reveal a neon pink G-string. My mouth watered.

  “Do you like it?” she asked coyly, her fingers tugging at the edges of the thong, moving it up and down on her hips.

  In response, I pressed my erect cock against her pelvic bone and began to move my hips in waves, dry humping her. I needed to feel her on my dick, needed her body as a sounding board for my own.

  She moaned, “Unnf, yes.” She reached down to her pussy and cupped it, roughly fondling herself. How did you get this lucky? my brain questioned. How does an ordinary guy like you fuck a girl like this?

  Growing increasingly wild with desire, I grabbed the edges of her sports bra and yanked it over her head. She lifted her arms up to help, and in short time, her breasts were bouncing freely. My fingers found one of her nipples and it was hard to the touch. I had dreamed of touching these tits since I’d seen Catya naked in the showers. Somehow, the reality was even more incredible than the fantasy.

  I brought her nipple to my mouth, and gently tickled it with my tongue. She arched beneath me, pressing my mouth closer to her. Why had I tried to stop this from happening? We were clearly made for one another. My teeth closed loosely around her nipple and began to nibble at it. She quaked beneath me, arousal shaking her like shifting tectonic plates. I wondered what else she liked — and decided to find out.

  There were so many other parts of her body that I needed to explore, and I was anxious to caress them all. My hands grasped the flesh of her boobs once more, squeezing them tightly and causing Catya to squeal with delight. My fingers then abandoned their stronghold and made their way past her ribs, across her flat stomach, following her happy trail and down to her mound, tracing the insides of her thighs and whirling around that smooth skin. I held there, just on the edges of impossible pleasure.

  “May I?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

  She nodded,
head bobbing up and down rapidly. She was desperate to have me inside her, and I in turn was desperate to please her, to serve her like a queen. Having received the all-clear, I moved my hand further into her private place, where I discovered that she was sopping.

  “You’re really wet,” I purred, extremely turned on by her body’s obvious desire for me.

  Catya laughed, and said, “I’m always this wet when I see you, you just haven’t known.”

  “Really?” My heart raced with satisfaction — I liked knowing that my constant arousal in her presence hadn’t been one-sided.

  She nodded, replying with a laugh, “Yeah. I’ve had to wear black leggings because I was worried lighter ones would show just how wet I was.”

  God, that was hot.

  “Were you masturbating to me in the shower the other day?” It was a question I’d been dying to ask, one that had fueled my spank bank material and seemed to be always on the edges of my mind.

  “Yes. I was dreaming of you fucking me, and then I had to jack myself off,” she said.

  “What were you picturing?” I asked, hoping for details.

  “I imagined you fucking me in the shower, just ramming me until I screamed.” She looked around and added, “So pretty much this. Minus the forest, of course.”

  This answer caused my cock to throb. No more talk — it was time to get serious. With that in mind, my fingers, which had been patiently standing at the ready, slipped inside her pussy. Inside, she was warm, silky, inviting. I tested the waters, swirling my finger around a bit, and much to my satisfaction, evincing a moan from Catya.

  “Put another finger in,” she begged.

  So she liked it a little rougher, huh? Well, I’d deal with that, and happily. Obliging, I stuck a second finger inside her, and began to pulse her vaginal walls. She bucked and stirred beneath me, but I refused to let up. Her legs intertwined with my own and she grabbed hold of strands of my hair, pulling my mouth back down to hers. It felt as though every single part of our bodies touched.

  Her walls were squeezing my fingers so hard I thought of a Venus fly trap. Whatever — I’d gladly be eaten alive by Catya’s pussy.

  She grasped my hair, and lifted her lips up to my ear to whisper, “Fuck me.”

  I grinned, and thrust my fingers in deeper just one more time.

  She groaned, “You have to fuck me right now, like right now. Okay?”

  Smirking at her total need for me, I removed my fingers from her pussy and licked them clean with my tongue. Her eyes went wide, then slitted until they were almost closed, as if she were a jaguar who had scented her prey.

  “You taste delicious,” I said. It was true. I’d always willingly eaten pussy, but never had the smell thrilled me until now. Maybe it was just her special blend of pheromones that locked perfectly into my nasal receptors. That would make sense — after all, we seemed to be made for one another.

  She brought her mouth to mine once more, and the taste of her passed between us like a secret.

  I pushed back, stood and snatched off my joggers, tossing them in the general direction of the pile of clothes that was growing around us by the minute. I loomed above Catya, and from this height, I could see her splayed out, American Beauty style, on the forest floor, her legs tucked against one another, her hips curving out in an S-shape. Could I be this lucky, me, a boy from the wrong side of the tracks, an ocean away from his home? My life wasn’t playing out as expected, and for that, I was eternally grateful.

  “Hold on,” Catya said, her chin raising to the sky, eyes angling to meet my own.

  “Is everything okay?” I inquired hurriedly, concerned that I might have crossed a line, one of many.

  “Yeah,” she replied. “I just… you look so hot, or handsome, whatever you call it, and, and… I want to remember this.”

  Laughing, I struck a pose, one leg to the side, hand resting on my chin in the position of The Thinker, and said, “Take a mental picture.”

  Her hair was tangled with the leaves on the ground, but she didn’t seem to care as she held up her long, muscled arms and used her fingers to mime snapping a picture of me.

  “Say cheese,” she joked, then, “click.”

  You know how the Amish don’t allow pictures, because they believe photos capture a part of their soul? Well, Catya hadn’t even taken a real picture, but I knew that it had trapped some portion of me in her head forever, a fragment of myself that now belonged to her and I suspected it was one of many such fragments.

  While I was busy wondering which part of myself I’d just ceded to her control, Catya commanded, in a faux-serious tone, “Now take that underwear off.”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” I replied.

  I slipped my tight dark blue boxers down to my hip bones, and then very slowly past my groin, at last revealing my impressive dick. I took my hands away from the underwear for a moment, and grasped my cock in both hands, twisting them around the length of my shaft.

  I took hold of the underwear once more and slid them completely off. I bent down, picked them up and then lazily threw the garment to the side. My entire naked body was on display for Catya’s pleasure, and hers alone.

  “Wow,” she said, eyeing my cock.

  Kneeling until I was hovering over her once more, my body straddling hers, I replied, “Yeah, you like it, baby?”

  “How’d you manage to fit all that under one tiny towel?” she asked, genuinely interested.

  I guffawed, and rather than answer her question, said, “Well, it wasn’t easy. Hiding a boner like this is challenging at the best of times.”

  “You had one?” she asked, politely skirting around my use of the word. So ladylike.

  “You bet.”

  “Really?”

  I leaned in closer, and replied, “Yes, really. And it was all your fault. If that towel had moved one centimeter, I would’ve been out of a job.”

  She grinned, her eyes lighting up and her body flushing with delight.

  “Do you wanna talk more about the towel,” I began, “or should I fuck you so hard you forget your own name?”

  She playfully considered this for a moment, then said, “Hmm, I think the second. Yup, definitely the second.”

  “Good answer.”

  “Here, I don’t want to get pregnant,” Catya pulled a condom out of a hidden pocket in her PJs.

  I made a bit of a show rolling it on as Catya was watching me hungrily. With one hand on my cock, I maneuvered my member until it just barely brushed against her opening, tickling the edges of her. She bit her lip, anxious to feel me, her hips subconsciously tilting up to force my dick inside her.

  “I want you,” she whimpered, verbally affirming what had been written all over her face. “Please. Please just… fuck me. I need it.”

  I had waited long enough — I was done being a good boy. I plunged my dick inside her and had the instant reward of hearing her scream with happiness. Good thing we were a full mile past where most other runners went, or someone would’ve heard — her voice echoed off the trees, reverberating over and over in my ears. It was a gorgeous sound.

  “Oh, Simon,” she whispered under her breath like a prayer. Her words turned to steam in the cold winter air. I couldn’t feel the chill. She was keeping me so very warm.

  Had I ever felt anything as good as being balls deep inside Catya? I didn’t think so. And from the sounds she was making, I guessed the feeling was mutual. I could die like this, I thought. Like those lovers in Pompeii, sheathed by Catya’s pussy. And if that were the case, I’d die a happy, happy man.

  The pace of my thrusting picked up, in and out, in and out with the rhythm of a jazz musician. Each thrust made her shudder and squeal, and I knew she wasn’t putting on a performance for my sake. She was loving every second of it.

  We were fully making the beast with two backs as my hips raced to and away from her, my cock going deeper than I’d ever known it could.

  It’s hard to say how much time passed, but at so
me point, I decided that I wanted to have her every way possible before we orgasmed, which might have been sooner rather than later if my straining cock had anything to say about it.

  Without warning, I rolled her over and pulled her by her belly up to her knees, my hands gripping her thick ass to make sure she didn’t fall over. She gasped, then stuck her ass up further in the air, wiggling it like a demand — don’t stop fucking me.

  “You want this?” I asked her.

  “You know I do,” she growled back, needy and ready. “Don’t stop fucking me, not now, not ever.”

  I slipped my cock inside her once more, and hunched over her back, a crazed animal with a singular goal.

  I knew I was hitting her g-spot, because she cried, “Oh my God!”

  My words had escaped me, had vanished into thin air. Did I still speak English? If so, I’d forgotten it. In its place was just a litany of grunts and groans, primal noises that transcended modern language.

  I’d had every intention of trying all the positions in the book, of running through a veritable Kama Sutra of material, but I realized then that, despite my best efforts, we wouldn’t make it. Her body was quivering with pleasure and my cock was straining, ready to blow an enormous load.

  “I’m going to come,” she managed through labored breaths.

  The rate of my thrusts increased as I strove to bring her to orgasm. I couldn’t come until she did, that would be ungentlemanly.

  “Simon!” she screamed.

  “Say it. Say it again, say my name,” I ordered, also close to the edge.

  This time, it was louder, more urgent. “Simon!”

  Damnit, and here I’d been, vowing that she would come first. Unfortunately, my body had different ideas. Her crying out my name had been all my dick needed. My knees buckled as an orgasm tore through me like flames, filling every single square inch of my body, inside and out, with pleasure, bathing me in happiness.

  Catya collapsed beneath me, her legs sprawling out as I withdrew and watched her squirt all over the forest floor, her pussy spraying like a fountain. She shivered beneath me, the tail end of her orgasm seeming to go on forever. We were splayed out in a heap, exhausted, ecstatic, blissful, satiated.