Pam is Proactive Ch. 4: Pam meets Karen
Pam struggled to keep her composure as the man ran his hands over her entire body. She was quivering out of a combination of fear and excitement. Her eyes met Karen's for a moment as she came through the door behind her but Karen disappeared around the corner, surrounded by the two men groping at her. As a cold hand plunged up inside Pam's sweater she cringed slightly and paused to ponder what depths she would sink to for pleasure...
--
The previous day Pam had been sitting alone in her apartment as she lazily wandered online. She was alone at her apartment and it had been months since she had been out on a date so inevitably she eventually found herself at a couple porn sites.
After the last incident in the conference room at the office, Jim had accepted a promotion and a move to Connecticut. Pam had been stunned. She was even more so when he returned a couple months later when the Connecticut branch merged with Scranton with a new girlfriend in tow. Karen was her name and she was beautiful in her own right, a skinny brunette with silken hair, bronze skin and a dazzling smile that lit up her face. She was kind of intimidating to Pam at first, she strode in confidently in her business attire, still drawing eyes in that usually drab type of clothing. But Pam was too jealous to be intimidated and she soon resented having to see them together right in front of her that first week the two branches merged. Jim had made a point of parading her around in front of everyone, and she thought he was deliberately doing it in her face.
Frustrated with herself for wasting time thinking about them again, Pam directed her attention to her own needs and unbuttoned her jeans. She slid the zipper down allowing her hand to slide into the white cotton panties that peeked out from under the denim. Pam leaned back in her chair, letting her left hand wander and her right hand control the computer. She shuffled through a couple dozen sites with various fetishes until she finally landed on a video of a student seducing her teacher.
Pam watched as the teacher delicately placed the girl's hand on his throbbing cock. As he showed her how to stroke him Pam's back arched as she began to rub herself faster and faster. Her head slumped back and her eyes rolled back into her head as she nearly shuddered in ecstasy. A vivid memory came rushing back to Pam and enveloped her entire consciousness.
--
She could still remember the stillness of the empty office after she entered when her knock went unanswered. The desk was in the center of the room with a window and radiator behind it. There were papers randomly strewn across the cheap particle board desk. A brown paper bag was lying out on top of the papers but she couldn't tell what was in it. An old fashioned generic school clock hung on the wall announcing the afternoon hour. Sunlight fell across a collection of boxes of equipment in the corner.
She sat in one of the metal folding chairs that were facing the desk. Pam was nervous. She had a slight crush on her coach. It was hard for her to deny, he had taken a decided interest in her ever since he had met her early on in the fall. He singled her out in practice a lot, and always made an effort to stop and chat with her wherever he saw her on the school grounds. Pam liked the attention, especially since most of the team thought the young coach was hot.
She heard indistinguishable voices from down the tiny hallway and figured the coach was talking to someone else. She couldn't know that in reality her coach had the advantage of knowing who she was long before Pam got to know him as one of the volleyball assistant coaches.
Footsteps from the hall announced his arrival. Pam turned her head to look over her shoulder and smiled up at her coach.
"Hey, sorry I'm late," he said stepping into the room. "You know, the other day I was talking to Coach Wilson," coach said as he looked down at Pam and smiled as he sat in the chair next to her. "She told me that you came here from St. Joseph's."
Pam nodded, not saying anything because she was slightly confused and suddenly more alert. Coach looked a little different for some reason. He was staring at her confidently and it was slightly unnerving Pam. She usually had the ability to make him blush as only older men do when younger women exert their charm over them.
He put his hand on Pam's knee and held it there. She felt the warmth of his hand on her bare knee and started to flush. Had he seen her constantly smiling at him all season? She was always glowing when he was around which had the effect of looking like she was constantly flirting with him. That thought was fleeting.
"I worked at St. Joseph's three and half years ago." Pam froze, her eyes widening. "That was my first job out of college as an assistant." He paused as he looked down at his hand. His eyes took her legs in and worked their way up to finally meet her own. "The day I started work, a freshman girl was sent home."
Pam was shocked and embarrassed that her coach knew about the incident that led to her having to switch to a school on the other side of town. She knew that he knew her past but he was being excruciatingly slow about revealing the depth of his knowledge and there was nothing she could do.
"The girl had apparently been lured out to the parking lot by two older boys..." Coach trailed off. He didn't need to finish. He stood up slowly as his hand was sliding up Pam's exposed thigh and down towards where both thighs met.
"I had a hard-on for my whole first week as the details came out. I kept imagining meeting you, a girl so eager to please," coach said as his hand cupped her pussy from the outside of her gym shorts. "I can remember the bitter disappointment when I learned you just left."
Pam was completely flushed now and her instincts were starting to blur her focus. She began to breathe harder, her chest swelling rhythmically against the fabric of her bra as coach's hand started to slowly rub her. Her head turned slightly and she saw that the door was still wide open. The threat of discovery only excited her further.
