I got tired of overseas contracting so I decided to settle down...somewhat. I managed to get a cake job as a strength and conditioning coach for a division one college on the west coast. I hate spoiled college kids but the prime, naive pussy running around makes up for it. I was watching the rugby team practice and it took me back to my high school rugby days.
Before there was Becky and Tiffany, there was Aubrey. We were both 18 years old, but worlds apart. She was the oldest of 8 kids in her devoutly catholic family. I was an orphan and this was my second year in this school after getting bounced around orphanages and foster homes. I had a history of violence and I was naturally big and strong so I was a natural for the rugby team.
I first noticed Aubrey in homeroom but she was too busy reading or studying to pay me any attention. She was innocent, conservative, and always wore nerdy glasses. But she made the glasses look sexy as hell, even before that look was "a look". She also always wore her sandy blonde hair in a pony tail. Our paths never crossed, but she was on the school newspaper and she was constantly assigned the rugby matches. The first match she covered she could pretend she was just there to get "just the facts" for the paper but I noticed she was watching me more than anything. She left immediately after the game.
After the second game she stuck around to get some quotes for the article and we spoke. She joined me on the bleachers as I changed out of my cleats and drank sports drink. I used my charm to make sure we chatted long after the interview was done. Soon it was dark and I started my 2 mile walk to the foster home. Aubrey showed pity on me and offered me a ride. So there we sat in her parents borrowed classic wood paneled station wagon. Rosary hanging from the rear view mirror.
Any doubt about her virginal status was erased when she calmly, but firmly informed me, "You were never in this car. My parents would KILL me if they found out I was in a car alone with a boy."
"Well, I'll be sure to wipe my sweat up when I leave so there is no remnant of me."
She giggled. "You are pretty sweaty and smelly. Heck, you even have grass stains all over your body."
I couldn't help but notice she was looking me up and down. My rugby shorts were cut short and you could see an decent amount of my upper thigh. They almost look like 70's style basketball shorts. My long sleeve jersey did nothing to hide my powerful stature.
I played it cool and was a perfect gentleman, saying "Thank you" and making a hasty exit when we arrived at my destination but still making sure to remove any evidence of my existence in the car.
At the third game, I noticed she was even cheering me on. After another interview, she offered me another ride home. It wasn't until I was standing next to her at the car did I realize the difference in size. I'm 6'4, at that time only 225 lbs but that still big and powerful. She was only 5'1" and 100 lbs. During this ride home I caught her trying to catch a glimpse of my powerful body as she drove but this time I swear her gaze stopped at the lump on my shorts.
"You should grow a beard." She blurts out when she realizes she has been caught checking out what I am packing
"Excuse me?"
"You got pretty banged up today. If you grow a beard it might cover some of your scars."
We get to my destination again and once again I am a gentleman and leave after I say "thank you". But I notice she didn't drive away right away. Instead she is checking out my marble like build as I walk up the sidewalk to the front door.
After the next game our now post match ritual of driving me home I break one tradition.
"Can I kiss you?"
"EXCUSE ME?!"
"You heard me, you are beautiful. I want to kiss you."
"Umm. I mean. Umm"