The Miler

Two days later the morning run squad met again, this time with Rebecca Clark joining us. Most of the kids were joking around; they wanted to know what they'd have to do to win a massage from me today, and the boys wanted to know if it was a girls only thing or, better yet, if they could choose a masseuse. I just smiled.

Lauren Booth took herself out of any massage competition. "I felt like I'd been beat up all day yesterday."

"How do you feel today, though?" I asked her.

She thought for a moment. "I feel great."

I nodded. "Everyone, we are graced today with the presence of Rebecca Clark, the home-schooled running phenomenon from the State of Vermont. Please make her feel welcome, but, gentlemen, no more welcome than she wants to be." The kids exchanged some greetings. Jessica was uncharacteristically standing off by herself, but she ran with one of the boys after we got started. I couldn't get any read on what she was thinking.

I decided that I'd run that day too, rather than roller blading. My knees are good for about one run a week. I caught up with Jessica and her friend after a quarter mile.

"I need to have a word with Jessica," I announced as I joined them. Her running companion looked at Jessica long enough to see her nod, and then sprinted ahead, leaving us mostly alone. I just ran beside her for a long couple of moments.

"I've really liked having you come to see me in my office," I finally said. "I hope I haven't lost that."

She was silent for several strides. "You were right, though."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I've had sex with almost everyone on the track team. Multiple partners, lesbianism, you name it."

"Oh." We ran on for awhile.

"Jess, I don't have anything against that. It's just that, I don't like the idea of being just another piece of ass to someone."

She looked at me incredulously and laughed. "Coach James, I never thought I'd hear a man say such a thing."

"Well, there you have it." We ran on. "I don't think I've ever felt so completely engaged with anyone as I've felt just talking with you in my office."

"I know something we could do to make it even more complete," she replied.

I looked over to see her smirking at me. I laughed and shook my head. "You are so bad, Jess."

"I'm just not accustomed to throwing myself at someone and being allowed to drop to the ground."

"That's not what I intended, Jess. Not at all." I looked over at her long enough that she met my gaze.

"You're going to have to do better than that, coach."

"What?"

"You've hurt my pride, coach. I was thinking dinner. Tonight."

I rolled the idea over in my head. Boy, that could be dangerous. But fun. I looked over at Jessica. "Okay. But you'll have to help me cook."

"I can do that."

"All right. Why don't you meet me at my apartment at seven tonight? I'll give you directions."

"I don't need directions, actually. I already know where you live."

"Uh ..."

"Don't worry," she laughed. "I saw it on an envelope on your desk."

"Okay. I'll cancel the restraining order, then. ... You're not a vegetarian or anything like that, are you?"

"I thought we'd established that I'm a man-eater."

"... and a woman-eater, too, apparently." I shot her a grin.

"Shut up!" she laughed. "I bare my soul to you, and you make wisecracks about it?"

"I'm sorry, Jess. Can I make it up to you in sexual favors?"

"Promises, promises. You know, it seems to me that you still owe me a massage."

"I suppose I do. Can we make it another day, though? I wouldn't want you to start off the evening sore."

"Oh. Were you planning on giving me a thorough workout after dinner?"

"I was thinking that might happen, yes."

"Good." She looked at me with an air of contentment. "Good."

We ran on for a bit in silence.

"Oh, Jess -- I'd been meaning for the last couple of days to run something by you. What do you think about running the 880 instead of the mile?"

She hesitated before answering. "I don't know. Why do you ask?"

"I think you can make nationals in the 880."

"But not in the mile?"

"But not in the mile."

"Who will be your miler?"

"Rebecca Clark, I think. That was her event in high school. Respectable times, too."

"Are you saying that you don't think I can go the distance?" She gave me a look and I laughed.

"Are we still talking about running?"

"Are we?"

Before I could respond, we'd reached the end of the three-mile course. I hadn't realized it until then, but Rebecca Clark had finished faster than Jessica and I did, something I noted to myself. The rest of the girls straggled in, and we disbanded for the day, with me giving Jessica a nod to discretely acknowledge our appointment that night.

* * * * * *

Just before seven, my doorbell rang. Jessica was wearing a pleated charcoal skirt and a pink sleeveless knit blouse. She was lightly made up and carrying a small suitcase. Without a word, she stepped into my apartment, set her bag down, and embraced me. I bent down slightly and hoisted her up by her hips, nudging the door shut in the process. She wrapped her legs around me and we locked lips for a long moment. Then she held my lower jaw in her hand and pulled away for a moment, looking me in the eyes.

"Hi," I said in a squeaky voice, feigning nervousness and laughing. She kissed the corner of my mouth, my cheekbone, my eyelid. "Well, if you'd like to hop down," I told her, "I'll give you the grand tour."

She held my head between her hands and leaned away to look at me. "No way. The last time I let go of you, you slipped away."

She pulled herself back close to me and nuzzled my ear, sending a spasm of pleasure through me. There was no need to fake nervousness now: "Oookay -- let's go straight to the bedroom." I slid my hands under her skirt and found that she had foregone wearing anything underneath. I started feeling a little wobbly with excitement. I sought her lips with mine and kissed her hard, stumbling toward the bedroom with her latched onto me.

I deposited her as gently as I could on my bed and started kissing her neck, which she arched back to give me better access. I pulled the bottom of her blouse out of the waist of her skirt and, sliding my hands underneath and along her skin, lifted it over her head and off of her arms, which she raised in order to aid the effort. We quickly cooperated in making her bra disappear, too, and I fell hungrily upon her smallish but full breasts and her brown-red nipples and areolas.

She arched her back below me and reached underneath herself to unzip her skirt, which I slid off of her in one motion as she raised her legs in front of me. I caught her left leg at the knee before she could lower it, and I kissed a line from her breast over her stomach and down to her mound. Both of her hands had made fists in my hair and her back arched. She had a neatly trimmed tuft of hair over her pubic bone and the rest of her pussy was cleanly shaven.

"Coach James ...," she said, but I ignored her. With one hand she had grabbed a fistful of my hair at the top back of my neck, and the other threatened to tear the hair off of the top of my head.

I ran my tongue, thick wet and heavy, down the groove where her thigh met her body, alongside but pointedly not along her pussy lips. I kissed and nipped her inner thigh. My arms by now were wrapped around her thighs, and with my fingertips I gently pulled her outer lips apart and darted my tongue along her slit, barely touching her flesh. I repeated this several time, touching her a little bit more with my tongue each time. Her hips began to meet my rhythm, rocking to meet my tongue. After our rhythms had been well-synchronized for about a minute, I stopped abruptly and pulled back enough to deny her contact. She gasped and shuddered, moaning, "Noooo ..."

I let her writhe beneath me for a while and then gave her slit a long, full stoke of my tongue. "Oh, fuck!" she cried, and her hands released my hair but seemed to have grabbed fistfuls of the sheet at either side of her. I started eating her pussy in earnest, dragging long slow strokes of my tongue over her slit but then pulling back and only lightly making contact with her clit, sometimes tracing a quick circle or another pattern as I passed over that sensitive spot. With each pass, I applied a little more contact to her clit until I was licking it normally with my soft, flat tongue.

She tensed and started to try to roll to one side, but I held her fast. "Stop!" she breathed. "Stop!" But I wouldn't. She grabbed my hair again and held my head tightly against her. She'd found purchase on the bed with her heels, and she started bucking her hips wildly. I held on as well as I could, lashing her pussy with my tongue at every opportunity. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she cried.

Finally her seizure subsided, and she lay back, panting heavily. "Oh shit," she managed to say between breaths. I looked up at her, grinning, but she held up a finger to me and shook her head. "Don't! Don't say anything stupid."

I nodded and abandoned my grin, climbing up to lie next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close to me. She rested her head against my chest, murmuring, "Oh shit ... oh shit."