by Tia Siren
He grabbed me by the hand and pushed his way into the house, shooing a couple from the ruffled and musty old couch in the living room.
“Have a seat,” he said, playful pushing me down.
I wasn’t used to being pushed around by men, and I hadn’t any interest in starting now, but I wanted to see what the ‘new me’ would do.
I cozied up with the armrest and hid my face behind the plastic cup.
“I’ll get you another beer,” he said, sprinting off to the backyard.
Some cheering came from the front yard, and I was curious to see what was going on. I sat on my knees and peered over the back of the couch toward the front door. Coach Reynolds was making his way inside, a cheerleader or two in tow.
I quickly ducked behind the tall back of the couch, hoping that he hadn’t seen me. Then a shadow cast itself over me and looking up revealed that he had indeed noticed me.
“There’s no way that’s you,” he said.
“Who do you think it is,” I asked.
“Only one person I know has cheekbones like that,” he added as he paced around the couch. He plopped down by the other armrest and waved away his followers who looked at me with envious gazes.
“You made me want to try something new,” I said.
He laughed and crossed his legs.
“I’m surprised you came,” he said.
“Likewise,” I added.
“This is a good look for you. If only I were ten years younger, I might have tried harder to muster the courage to ask you out,” he said.
Ten years younger, I thought, he was still gorgeous now. I wanted to continue chatting, but Mike returned from the backyard.
“Hey, Coach,” he said while handing me the beer, “wasn’t expecting you to come.”
“Someone had to make sure you guys don’t drink yourselves stupid, just consider me more of a chaperone than a drinking buddy,” replied Coach Reynolds.
I took a long sip from the glass and felt out of sorts with the two of them here. I would have much preferred just to talk to the coach.
Mike plopped down in the center of the couch and threw his arm around me. I wanted to shove his arm off, but couldn’t muster the assertiveness to do so.
“So, Coach. How do you think we’ll do at the game?” Mike asked nonchalantly.
“I think you know where I stand on that,” he replied.
“You guys will do great,” I said, not adding much to the conversation.
The two guys looked at me, and I regretted saying anything at all.
“What makes you say that Sandy,” started Mr. Reynolds.
“Well, I’ve watched you guys practice a lot, and you guys always look good when running plays and stuff,” I said.
“If anything, they look good,” laughed Mr. Reynolds.
“Hey, you want a beer,” Mike asked.
“Sure, Mike,” the coach replied. Mike shot up, running to the backyard again.
“So, Mr. Reynolds, do you like the new look,” I asked, straightening out my top.
“Call me Jeff, Sandy,” he said.
“Okay, Jeff,” I replied uncomfortably.
“To answer your question; yes, you look fantastic.”
“Would you have talked to me ten years ago if I looked like this,” I asked.
“I’m not sure, I was pretty shy when I was younger,” he said.
“Well, if you had asked, I probably would have said yes,” I said.
He crossed his legs the other way, and I felt a little nervous baring myself like that. I hoped I hadn’t said anything inappropriate.
“You’re making me regret growing up,” he said.
“The car you drive makes me wonder if you ever did,” I replied.
He guffawed loudly, making a few people turn and wonder what we were talking about.
“I’ve had that car for far too long, I should probably buy something newer,” he said, “and more responsible.”
“I had fun on the last ride,” I said, “and hopefully it won’t be the last.”
Mike returned with Jeff’s drink and handed it down to him before plopping back into the center seat of the couch. Jeff stood up, drink in hand.
“I should probably check the rest of the party. I don’t want to see any drugs being passed around,” he said before walking away.
I wanted to get up and walk around with him, holding his arm the entire time, but I was Mike’s date for the night, and I was nothing if not honorable.
“So, where did we leave off at, cutie,” he said, starting to lean over for a kiss.
I pushed him off, trying to keep his face away from my own.
“Mike, I’m not making out with you,” I stated.
“Oh, come on. Why else did you work so hard to look good for tonight,” he asked.
A hand shot out from behind the couch, grabbing Mike by the shoulder and dragging him away. Jeff had returned and looked upset.
Mike did his best to fend him off, but Jeff was the stronger man, and he effortlessly pinned Mike to the wall.
“I want you to get everyone together and line them up out back. We’re having an impromptu lesson for all the players,” Jeff said authoritatively before releasing Mike.
Mike scampered from the wall and started running around the house, gathering just about every guy there. It only took about five minutes before they were all crowded around in the backyard, and the other partygoers were pushed inside. Out of curiosity, I decided to listen in and hear what they were talking about.
“Are you boys kidding me?!” he shouted to the gathered players, “You force yourself on girls and think that’s right?”
The guys looked a little sheepish.
“A good man doesn’t force anything; he waits to be received and is grateful when he is.”
“Coach, since when have you had a girlfriend, though,” replied Mike, “girls are different today than when you were in college.”
“Style’s change, Mike. Girls don’t.”
“Yeah, but we’ve never seen you with anyone, why don’t we ever see you with a woman,” Brad asked.
“I’m not here to get mocked by a bunch of college kids that think they’re big time stars and are owed sex,” Jeff started. “Next time you get that feeling that she owes you a kiss or anything else, if I hear about it or see it at all, you won’t be playing,”
The guys looked around at each other.
“Sorry, Coach. I think I speak for everyone when I say this is the last you’ll hear of it,” Brad said.
“Good. And, when you meet the right girl, you’ll know,” Jeff went on to say. He saw me watching from behind the crowd and met my gaze, continuing to speak.
“Sometimes you meet the right girl at the wrong times,” he said, “and you want to do nothing more than spend time with them. But, you know you shouldn’t.
“You can’t take your eyes off them, and there’s nothing you can do.”
“Umm, coach, what are you going on about,” asked Mike.
Jeff shook his gaze from me and focused back to the crowd of players.
“It’s nothing, Mike. I gotta get out of here. Don’t drink too much, we have a game in a couple of days,” he said.
Jeff pushed his way through the group and walked towards the entrance to the house.
I followed along, desperately trying to keep up. He walked fast; faster than I’d seen him move before. I pushed through the crowd that filled in the space behind him and realized I had lost more ground.
Before I could even exit the house, he was already in his car and driving off down the road. I couldn’t let it end like this; I needed answers from him.
I sprinted through the house again, towards the backyard. Then, once in the backyard I ran and hopped over the fence. It connected to a similar house, as well as the only road out of the area.
I heard his car rounding the corner just as I made it to the road. I stood prominently in front of his path, and his car screeched to a halt.
�
��Sandy, what are you doing, get out of the road or someone is going to hit you,” he said.
“Jeff, we need to talk,” I said, making my way to the passenger seat.
5.
He didn’t seem to object to me getting into his car.
“Drive,” I said.
He put the car back in gear and started on the way again.
“If anyone sees us in the same car, I’m in trouble,” he said.
“I don’t care,” I replied sternly.
We drove in silence for a few blocks while I thought about what to say. I honestly didn’t think I’d make it this far.
“Were you talking about me?” I asked.
He let out a drawn out sigh.
“Yes,” he replied.
“You couldn’t take your eyes off me?”
“Yes, and I felt bad every time,” he said.
“Why is that,” I asked.
“I’m a teacher; I’m not supposed to get involved with students.”
“How involved were you trying to get,” I wondered.
He pulled the car over; we found ourselves on an empty street, not a house in sight. He clicked the car off and leaned back in his seat.
“I wanted to ask you out,” he said, “I just want to-”
I kissed him mid-sentence. At first, I thought he would try to fight me off, but he leaned into it and accepted my advances passionately.
“We shouldn’t,” he said lightly pushing me away.
“You’re right, it’s a good thing we aren’t,” I said while I rubbed his inner thigh.
He squirmed in his seat, but not in a discomforted way. I was surprised at the new me that was taking over. My head was screaming for me to stop, but every other part of my body yearned for me to continue. My body needed this.
I massaged his member outside his pants; he was getting harder with each rub. He pulled me in closer for a kiss which I cherished. The tenderness of his lips and the eagerness of which he gave them to me was turning me on more.
His arms wrapped around my skinny torso and he ran his hand along the small of my back. I leaned down and unzipped his zipper to free his throbbing member. With a light tug, it revealed itself to me.
I ran my hand up and down his shaft, and he leaned his body back, letting out light moans of pleasure with each stroke. I took his free hand and moved it between my legs. He did as I wanted and rubbed his hand up and along my freshly shaven slit.
Then I took him inside my mouth, as much of it as I could. His salty juices were already starting to flow from the tip, and I lapped them up.
He undid my tight jeans and forced his hand down inside. His fingers made round motions around my clit, and I could feel my panties starting to soak.
I bobbed on his rock hard manhood for a few more strokes before I leaned back and shoved off my bottoms. He did the same.
He looked at my bare womanhood, licking his lips. In a quick motion he bore down on my dripping wet sex; playing excitedly with every part of me.
His tongue flicked over my clit in wonderful circles that shot waves of pleasure through my head. I thought I might burst from the sensation alone, but it seemed he had other plans.
He tugged at the bottom of my shirt and lifted it over my head, exposing my tiny breasts and nipples for his enjoyment. I felt a little shy, but wanted him to see, so I opened my legs a little wider and arched my back.
He crawled along the seat, stealing another kiss from my lips. I could feel him rubbing his beast along my wetness. He wasted no time and pushed himself into me with a forceful lunge. It had been a long time since I had felt the sensation of another person entering me, and I was glad it was him doing it.
His member pulled me apart, and I relished every inch. I moaned loudly, and this just turned him on more. I could feel him throb from inside.
Then he began to pump, exiting, and entering me. He began to get rough, and I liked it. With every thrust, he came in a little harder. I wrapped my hands around his neck so that I wouldn’t fly away. He grabbed me by the waist and pulled himself into me as far as he could.
My body ached with passion, and sensations I’d never felt before were flooding me from my head to my fingertips. I started feeling all tingly while he continued his onslaught of passionate thrusting.
I felt it small at first, and then it became a cascading wave of sensation. My body tensed and my toes curled. He wasn’t far behind; I could feel his body tighten, pulling me in for one final thrust before releasing himself inside.
When my orgasm finally stopped, I realized I hadn’t taken a breath in more than a minute and felt incredibly winded. He pulled himself out, slowly.
“Looks like we’ll need to practice if we’re going to make the playoffs,” I said, jokingly.
“Which one of us is the coach,” he asked.
“I’ll take your tips anytime,” I said.
He rolled his eyes and fell atop me for another kiss. We didn’t leave our little perch until the sun started peaking over the horizon. My body was sore and bruised and satisfied.
6.
I wanted to see him almost immediately after he dropped me off at my house. I wanted to go home with him and forget I was a student. I wanted to forget that he was more than ten years older than I was, but all these things kept wracking my head with guilt.
I didn’t want to get him fired for sleeping with a student, which was a possibility if anyone found out.
The day passed by miserably, I stared at my phone wishing that he’d call me with the number I had left with him. He didn’t call.
When I woke up the next morning I did my best to stay casual but I couldn’t, I needed to see him again.
There was a good chance he would be back at the practice field with the team, so that would be the best place to start.
I put on some of my new clothes and rushed out the front door. When I got out there, I saw his car already parked on the street corner, with him waiting inside.
I happily danced my way to the passenger side.
“Sandy, we can’t do this,” he said.
I was shocked to hear the words; I had wanted to spend another afternoon together.
“Why,” I questioned.
“Because I’m a teacher, and you’re a student. I can’t be more than that. Please understand.”
“I can’t understand why you would want to turn away something that feels so right,” I said.
He looked at me and let out another long drawn out sigh.
“You know, you really are the right person at the wrong time,” he said.
I could feel myself welling up with tears as he said it. I leaned into the passenger door and pried it open.
“I’ll be watching the game from the stands, make sure it’s a winner,” I said, slamming the door shut with a squeak.
He smiled, and that was all.
I spent the rest of the day trying in vain to study. I wanted nothing more than to forget everything had happened. My mind raced uncontrollably, wondering what I could do to keep this from ending for real. There had to be something that would let me be close to the person that I liked, without getting him fired in the process.
It occurred to me that the age difference was a little more than I would have liked. With age comes experience, though, and I would have liked to take advantage of his experience.
I pictured the kiss we shared before parting ways the other day. It was like a dream.
When studying didn’t work out, I decided to try spending some time with Jennie. Thankfully she was unavailable; I couldn’t imagine trying to share my experience with Jeff. I’m sure she would have just laughed it off as some kind of drama that I was trying to stir up.
So, I found myself lying in bed the remainder of the day, remembering every little caress and sensation I felt during our night of passion.
I awoke the next morning in odd sorts. The depression of knowing that something so wonderful was coming to an end before it even began, weighed heavily in my heart. I met
up with Jennie for a tailgate party before the game.
I’m normally the one preaching sobriety but was feeling much the opposite. I drank more than my fair share. Nobody really minded, the just figured I had finally cracked myself out of my anti-social shell. Perhaps they were right. The last few days had been rather eye-opening for me, and I was beginning to discover who I had become.
I watched Jeff throughout most of the game, barely paying attention to the game. I cheered when the crowd cheered, but my brain was clogged with thought. Jennie chatted at me constantly, I just smiled and nodded. I doubt she really noticed my lack of interest.
The team was on fire; which was good as Jeff looked a bit too deep in thought to really get his head in the game. Brad took control and led the team to a relatively easy win. When they ran for the locker room, Jeff stood behind, lingering for a while on the field.
I excused myself from Jennie, and she ran off to join her boyfriend, the recent winner. I waited in my seat for the crowd to thin out before saying anything. I only approached when we were almost alone in the stadium.
“Congrats on the win,” I said.
He swiveled his head and gave me a nod and a smile.
“It doesn’t get any easier,” he replied.
I sat myself beside him, still keeping, at least, an arms-length of distance between us in case anyone was watching.
“Winning?”
“No, parting ways,” he said.
“Are you leaving?” I asked.
“Not sure. Fate is dealing us a bad hand, isn’t it?”
“The worst,” I replied.
He picked up his things and started walking away. I waited a moment, thinking that I could just let him go, but I wouldn’t let it happen so easy.
“Jeff, I can’t say goodbye like this,” I said.
He swiveled on his heel and turned to face me.
“Then don’t,” he replied.
I ran over to him, tackling him to the ground and planting a kiss square on his cheek. He started to push me off, but I held on tighter.
Then I saw an old look in his eye, something mischievous.
“Ten minutes, my office,” he said while standing back up.
I nodded and started feeling giddy about the time we were about to spend together. I sat down on the chair nearby and stared at the clock on my phone. I wondered if I should wait five minutes before I left, or if I should be late and make an entrance.