Play Me, Coach

by Sylvia Fox

  “Emily,” he pleaded. “You’re going to make me … I have to…”

  I silenced him by pulling him in for our deepest kiss yet, for the first time my mouth the aggressor. He’d stopped thrusting, but I hadn’t, rutting and grinding my pelvis against him. Orgasms ripped through me, and when I felt his entire body tense and he screamed into my open mouth, my trembling began anew.

  He emptied himself into me, over a decade of his pent-up sex drive filling me with the same seed that became my best friend. His daughter.

  And now it rushed into me. My body belonged to him. My heart. My soul.

  Our orgasms spurred each other’s to unimagined heights, growling and screaming, moaning and gasping, until we both collapsed.

  His erection slowly deflated inside me as we kissed and touched, tender, exploring touches all over my soft curves and his jagged, angular muscle.

  There was a finality to the way he’d finished inside me, as if he was daring the rest of the male population to trespass on what was his. Knowing no one would pick up the gauntlet he’d throw down. Not because they wouldn’t want to, want me, but because he was just too much man to challenge.

  I knew at that moment that no one else would ever fuck me. And that Coach Eric Sutton could, and would, fuck me in any and every way imaginable. However, wherever he wanted to. I could deny him nothing.

  Chapter Five

  He had me again the next morning, right before he had to go off to practice.

  “I don’t want to leave you,” he whispered into my ear as he made love to me. He was slow that morning, fucking me gently as I cried out with pleasure and pain. I was still sore, still not used to being taken the way he was taking me. His cock was hard and thick, my virgin pussy barely able to handle him.

  I was just a girl, after all. In so many ways.

  “Then don’t,” I said, wrapping my legs and arms tighter around him. “Don’t coaches have sick days?”

  He stared into my eyes for a moment and I kissed his delicious lips as he considered it.

  “I’ve never taken a sick day, believe it or not,” he said as he continued to thrust in and out of me. “Maybe I should. I have assistant coaches that can handle things. It’s a short practice anyway. But only on one condition.”

  “Anything,” I said, my voice husky. He was still fucking me as he spoke.

  “You come again,” he said. “And you let me fuck you the rest of the day. In any position I wish to. If your body can take it… my sweet virgin girl.”

  I nodded vigorously and he sped up his fucking, growling as he took the pussy that belonged to him completely. My orgasm wasn’t even something I could control as he bore down on me, grinding my clit against his pelvis and coaxing a different sort of sensation out of me from deep within my core. I screamed his name as he continued to pound me, the headboard of his massive bed banging against the wall.

  “Eric!” I cried. “Yes!”

  It had been hard not to say more. Hard not to tell him that even though it was insane, I was in love with him. Irrevocably. Without choice.

  He’d made the phone call while standing naked at his bedroom window, his perfect ass my view from his bed. I was tangled up in his Egyptian cotton sheets, still desperate for more of him. I was a hungry lioness, horny and needy. I’d become a woman under his skilled hands, found my purpose with each thrust of his cock.

  When he disconnected from the call he turned to look at me, a mischievous grin on his face.

  “I just lied and said I was coming down with something,” he said. “Emily, your pussy makes me do things I’d never do. That’s how fucking good it is.”

  I clutched the sheets to my body, feigning confusion.

  “Who, me?” I said. “I’m just a simple girl. You could have anyone you wanted…”

  He shook his head. “I only want you, my love. Over and over. Even if I shouldn’t. I haven’t had pussy this good… ever. Give me more of it, Emily. I demand it.”

  My love. The sound of those words made want to give him everything. And more.

  He yanked the sheet off, exposing me. He raked his eyes over my body, clearly hungry for me just like I was hungry for him.

  “Spread your legs for me,” he commanded. I slowly did, teasing him, the sound of my wetness as they parted making him groan.

  “And no one has ever had this pussy?” he asked. “How did I get so lucky?”

  I smiled demurely, “I waited for you, Coach. Somehow I knew that it would be worth the wait. I was right.”

  He stopped for a moment, his face suddenly sad. Had I said the wrong thing?

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, sitting up, my back against the upholstered headboard. “Did I say something…”

  “No, baby,” he said as he laid down next to me. I could see his cock was still fully swollen and rigid. I reached down to touch him, my fingers running up and down the shaft as he sighed.

  “I don’t deserve you,” he said. “I’m not worthy of such perfection.”

  I shook my head. “I’m the one not worthy. You’re so perfect. Everyone wants to be with you. You must know half the women at Moultrie have a crush on you. They call you the George Clooney of basketball coaches.”

  Coach laughed. “I had no idea. I’m just a gym rat, a man who has a passion for his sport and his job.” He touched my face. “And now for you. I’ve never experienced this, Emily.”

  I bit my lip, so overcome with happiness, but also fear. How could Coach want me? I was just a regular girl, nothing special.

  “That’s the amazing sex talking,” I teased as I pressed my body against his. I felt small and submissive next to him. His body made me feel safer than I’d ever felt in my life. Nothing could happen to me if I was with Coach.

  “It’s not,” he said. “It’s not appropriate, but I’ve had a bit of a crush on you myself, Emily. Of course I never expected anything, but I have always enjoyed your presence, like no one else I’ve known since my wife.” He kissed my lips softly. “You make me want to be a man worthy of you. You’re an angel, Emily. With a sinful body.”

  He entered me again and our mouths stayed pressed against one another as he fucked me missionary, my legs wrapped around his calves as I raised my hips to meet his rhythm. He fucked me with such an urgency, as if he couldn’t get enough of me.

  It made me feel like I held power over him.

  “You’re so lush,” he said. “Your fucking curves drive me insane. Last night when I saw you in just a night shirt… I knew I had to have a taste. No matter what was at stake.”

  “Nothing is at stake,” I whispered, my hands on his face as he stared at me. “I’m yours. In secret. Anything you need me to do for this to never end… I’ll do it.”

  “Fuck,” he said. “You make it so hard not to cum, baby. Your pussy is so tight. Like its just for me.”

  “It is just for you, Coach,” I said. “I’m just as addicted to you. Don’t you know that?”

  He withdrew for a moment and I hated the empty feeling of his cock leaving me.

  But it wasn’t for long.

  “Let me fuck you from behind,” he said, flipping me over and yanking my hips up. The way he handled me so easily, just tossing and lifting me like that made me feel so vulnerable and helpless. And shaking with desire. I was on all fours now, a lewd position that made me wet with anticipation. “Fuck, you’re beautiful. Your ass… You’re going to be the fucking end of me, Emily. Do you know that?”

  I smiled as he started to plunge into me. Getting fucked from this position was a different sensation, one I very much loved. As his cock went in and out of me, one hand was on my clit, coaxing out an orgasm as I screamed at the pleasure. His other hand had my long brown hair wrapped around it as he gently pulled me back, like I was an animal he was reining in.

  “I need to fuck you like this,” he said. “So you know I own you. Do you like feeling owned, Emily? Because I can only own you, my love. This pussy needs to be completely mine. You need to be complete
ly mine.” His pounding suddenly sped up. His hand still held me by my hair but the other hand was now clutching my right hip for leverage as he mercilessly fucked me.

  “I want to be owned,” I said. “Eric, I want to be your whore. Your lover. Anything you need me to be. You’re the only one that’s ever had my pussy. You’ve marked me, baby.”

  Suddenly I was on my back again and he was pulling my hips toward him, impaling me with his angry cock. I yelped out in pain for a moment, his pistoning very aggressive now. I could tell he was using me to cum, no longer interested in holding back.

  I ran my hand up his taut abs, to his pecs that were covered in salt and pepper chest hair. He was old enough to be my father, obviously, but that just made it more enticing to allow him to have me this way. I was so delirious with lust and love for this man, this demigod who could and would be the only man I would ever let have my body.

  “Cum inside me, Coach,” I begged him. “I know you need to. Cum inside my pussy. The pussy that was never fucked until you claimed it.”

  He moaned and I felt his release flooding my insides, his seed painting the inside of me, the pulsing of his dick bringing me to also come. Our bodies were slick with sweat and we both cried out in ecstasy, both using the other to get off.

  He collapsed next to me, pulling me close to him, his arms wrapped around me as we tried to catch our breath, both of our hearts racing.

  We didn’t say anything for a while. Until he spoke.

  “God, we’re in such trouble,” he said. And nothing else.

  Chapter Six

  “Truth or dare?” Eric asked. “I haven’t played that in…well, since before you were born, let’s leave it at that. Sure, let’s play.”

  It was a rainy afternoon, the day after the day I’d so orgasmically become a woman at the hands, mouth, and cock of Eric Sutton.

  I was feeling giddy and playful and suggested the game to break the sexual tension between us. There was an awkwardness that felt like maybe all we wanted to do was tear each other’s clothes off, but neither one wanted to be the first to admit it. Or to act on it.

  We sat on my bed in the guest bedroom. He’d come in to adjust the venetian blinds, which had somehow become tangled.

  “How do we start? And what are the rules?”

  “The rules are that one player chooses ‘truth’ or ‘dare’ and then the other player asks a question. If the game is going to mean anything, then we both must be completely honest and willing to try our best to accomplish the dare, up until the point where doing so would cause bodily harm. Okay?” I explained.

  “Alright. Ladies first, then?”

  I nodded. “Truth.”

  Eric scrunched up his face.

  “What do you want to be when you grow up? I don’t mean what you’re majoring in, necessarily, I mean what would be your dream job, if money didn’t matter, as creative as you want to be, what would you do?”

  “I think … I would like to be a Kardashian when I grow up. I know it’s shallow, but they seem to have endless amounts of money and new clothes and fancy everything and very little stress, except of the self-manufactured variety. But instead of all the time and money they spend on makeup and hair, I’d try to get away with a fraction of that for my appearance and instead spend the rest on amassing the most amazing library since Alexandria.” I grinned. It was my secret shame, my love for reality television. I just couldn’t help myself.

  Eric laughed. “I won’t let Aurelian, Theophilus, or Caliph Omar anywhere near your library, Emily.”

  I wrinkled my nose at him, searching for an explanation.

  “History major. Master’s in Classical Studies,” Eric explained. “Those are the three men most people hold responsible for the destruction of the Library at Alexandria.”

  My attraction to Eric suddenly increased tenfold. I was ready to dispense with the game and offer to have his babies.

  “As far as being a Kardashian, you’re halfway there already, since you look just like one. Just start hanging around their big mansion or compound or wherever they live and claim to be the missing sister. Nobody will be able to tell the difference.”

  He seemed genuine. Ridiculous, but genuine. I could stand in front of a mirror and pick out twenty flaws before any of the Kardashians could do the same and find one on themselves.

  I replied by sticking out my tongue. He laughed. “Okay, my turn. Dare.”

  His smile made me wet. I cocked my head to the side and spun my mental “dare rolodex.”

  “Hold that thought,” I instructed. I stood up and walked to the refrigerator, retrieving a large bowl of red grapes and an empty bowl from the cabinet.

  Setting them down in front of him, I gave him his marching orders. “Fit as many as you can in your mouth at once. No biting.”

  “That’s my dare?” he asked.

  I nodded. I’m sure he’d expected the dare to be sexual. But I was in the mood to be silly.

  “I have to warn you. In middle school my nickname was ‘Chipmunk Charlie’. I was the grape-eating champion of my entire school. Prepare to be amazed.”

  “I can’t wait,” I said, clapping my hands.

  He proceeded to, one at a time, fit twenty-seven grapes in his mouth. He looked ridiculous, turning red with the strain, but he did it. I only wish I’d thought to capture it on my phone, for posterity.

  “Well done, Chipmunk!” I laughed, before we began the arduous process of retrieval. It’s difficult to remove grapes, or probably anything, from a mouth so full the jaws are nearly unhinged. Once the first few were out, Eric could relax and move his mouth a bit, and he spit them into the empty bowl.

  “I’m never eating another grape,” stated Eric, defiantly. “Your turn, Emily. What’ll it be?”

  “Truth.”

  “I believe you when you say you were a virgin before last night.”

  I blushed at the mention of the “v-word,” even though it no longer applied.

  “But had you done anything sexual before me?”

  I knew I was red as a beet. I could feel my cheeks flush.

  “Prior to last night, I had never seen or touched a penis before.”

  Eric looked shocked. “Really?” Sensing my discomfort, he put a hand on my shoulder, then on my chin, bringing my eyes level with his. “Hey, there’s no shame in that. I just feel even more lucky that you decided to share yourself with me. I l-” He stopped short. He started to say something impossible for me to even consider, and I was sure it wasn’t that he “liked” me.

  “I’m just extraordinarily blessed, that’s all. You’re a beautiful girl, smart and funny, and I’m very lucky. Thank you.”

  His hand had moved to my cheek, brushing loose hair back behind my ear. “I mean it,” he reaffirmed. I wanted to cry. What happened to the light-hearted fun I had planned?

  “Pick your poison,” I offered.

  “Dare.”

  “Sing me a song. Any song you want. But it has to be by a female artist. Oh, and you have to dance.”

  From his seated position, he fell onto his back with a groan.

  “I can stand in front of an arena filled with 20,000 people, with millions watching on TV, and I never feel the least bit nervous. But ask me to sing? Yikes. Stage fright city,” Eric explained.

  “To cure stage fright, they say you should imagine your audience naked. But since this is my dare, I make the rules. Not only sing a song. By a female artist. While dancing. You also must perform while stripped down to your underwear. Should definitely cure your stage fright.”

  I feared I’d overstepped my bounds, but he dutifully peeled the white Moultrie College Basketball t-shirt he was wearing over his head and tossed it to the floor.

  His fucking shoulders. I mean, come on. Even the way he took a shirt off was sexy. I sat back against the wall and clutched a pillow between my breasts and my bent knees. He stretched his arms behind his back and then swung them like an Olympic swimmer getting ready to dive in the pool.

>   So hot.

  He took his time with his sweatpants, making a dramatic show of untying the waistband and shimmying them down. The boxer briefs he wore made me gasp. I bit down on my index finger to stifle it. He was just impeccably sculpted. He balled his fists and his forearms rippled.

  His pants kicked aside, he cleared his throat. His voice shook and squeaked through a comically-awful rendition of some top ten pop song that had been playing on the radio constantly the last month. His dancing consisted mostly of swaying from side to side, with the rare spin thrown in. He was bright red by the time he finished. And, to my wide-eyed surprise, half-erect. The bulge in his underwear had grown noticeably. I couldn’t stop staring. When he reached down and adjusted it, quickly and as surreptitiously as possible, I nearly fainted.

  I gave him a round of mock applause for his performance and he sat back down on the bed, long legs folded in front of him.

  “That. Was. A. Mazing.” I said, through a giant grin.

  “Oh yeah, I definitely missed my calling,” he replied. “You’re up, kiddo.”

  “I’ve put it off as long as I can. Dare.”

  Eric looked at me with a mysterious half-smile. “Since I’m shirtless, it’s only fair that you be likewise. And once you’re topless, I want to see you touch your breasts. Show them off to me. They’re fantastic.”

  No sense stalling, I figured, and I reached for the bottom of my shirt, discarding it in one, fluid motion.

  Eric was bemused. The sight of them in only the white, lacy bra I wore caused the tip of his tongue to appear and slide between his lips.

  I reached behind myself and undid the clasps, letting everything fall free. I held them in the palms of my hands, bouncing them softly. My nipples were hard enough to cut steel, let alone glass.

  “Since you got to modify my dare and had me strip to my underwear, I hereby modify mine. Place your hands behind your head as if you’re pinning your hair up.” He punctuated his command with his devastating smile.

  I extended my neck and stretched my arms like a magician preparing to pull a rabbit from a hat. I twisted into my best version of a pinup girl, arms raised, breasts free for him to explore with his eyes.