Ch. 04 Coaches and Parents
Personally, I like Parts 1 through 3, but you don't have to read them before reading this. Thanks to all who have given me feedback, it's gratifying to know you're enjoying these flights of fantasy.
School on Monday was terrible. I could think of nothing but Kelly and our weekend. I saw her only in English class, and I couldn't take my eyes off her. She was so beautiful. I remembered how much I loved brushing her hair. I remembered all our sweet lovemaking. At the end of class I had to think about calculus to let my boner subside.
But gym class was the worst. The guys knew something was up. I told them I'd taken Kelly out, and it was instantly mayhem.
"You took Kelly Morgan out? Lucky duck!"
"She's gorgeous!"
"Is she as oversexed as I think she is?"
"Didja get any?"
"Whadja do? Wheredja go? What's she like?"
"I've heard she's a stuck-up bitch."
"Yeah, she doesn't give any, so I'm told."
"Did Big Justin wield the one-eyed lizard?"
"Did she get scared away by it?"
"Did you choke her with it?"
There were gales of laughter as they were completely gross at my expense.
I let it all flow over. Then I said simply, "We had a nice time. She's a nice lady."
"Gonna take her out again?"
"Yeah. In fact I hope to see a lot of her."
Hoots and hollers, screams and yells. "Justin's in looove!" Little did they know. On the one hand, these were my friends, and in a certain way I wanted to stand on top of the lockers and scream out my love for Kelly as loud as I could. On the other hand, I felt it was extremely private, and I didn't want to tell them anything.
"Hey, back off. Justin needs our help. He needs our advice on how to treat Kelly like a lady. OK, guys, during class everybody has to give Justin a suggestion about what he should do with Kelly." Cheers and affirmation greeted this idea. And they did. Every minute during class somebody would whisper "advice" about my dealings with Kelly. It was awful. It was crass. It was also very funny. They were coaching me. My coaches.
That night I had tons of homework. I called Kelly.
"Hi!"
"Hi!"
"How was your day?"
"Awful, Justin. I can't stop thinking about you."
"Same here. And I told the guys at gym about us."
"Really? And what happened?"
"It was awful. They said the worst things. They tried to pry stuff out of me, and then they decided to give me advice all through class. So every minute or so somebody would whisper a suggestion about what I should do with you. They thought they were coaching me."
"What did they say?"
"It's way too crass to talk about. I'd rather just tell you how much I love you."
"You're changing the subject. They were really foul, huh?"
"Amazingly so."
"Jerks."
"In a way. But they're also my friends, so I can feel some affection behind it. And some envy, I think. Just not a lot of maturity."
"Are you going to take their suggestions?"
"Truth be told, I already have taken some."
"Oh, really." She didn't sound pleased, "And did you brag?"
"No, Kelly. I told them we'd gone out, that we were going to go out again, and that I hoped to see a lot of you. That's all."
"Are you sure that's all? You didn't brag a little?"
"They know what Kelly Morgan looks like. I don't have to brag when the evidence is right before their eyes. That you would even go out with me brags without my saying anything."
"You didn't even brag a little about what we did?"
"Not a word," I said, starting to get a little angry, "I told you that all of that is between you and me alone. To tell would cheapen it. I didn't even tell them a word about you making dinner. No details at all."
"I believe you," she said, but not convincingly, "When can I see you again?" There was a plaintive note in her voice.
"Too much homework tonight. Can I take you out for ice cream tomorrow after supper?"
"OK. About seven?"
"OK. See you then."
Tuesday couldn't go by fast enough. It was another day of torture, from not seeing Kelly to getting loads more "advice" from my "coaches."
I was fifteen minutes early to pick up Kelly. Bad idea. She wasn't ready, and was annoyed. I spent the time talking to her parents. Her dad was almost my size, and looked like he'd been quarried from granite. Her mom was tiny like Kelly, and very pretty. It was clear where Kelly got her looks. They were nice to me, but inquisitive. It wasn't quite the third degree, but I was being interrogated. Her dad, in particular, seemed very protective. If my daughter looked like her, I would be, too.
Soon enough, I opened the car door for Kelly, took my place behind the wheel, and we took off for ice cream. Her parents watched us leave.
"Good move opening the door. Mom'll like that."
"Will you tell her that I do it all the time, and not just for her consumption?"
"Yeah. It'll be part of the sales job."
"Sales job?"
"Do you realize how important it is for me to convince them to like you?"
"I hadn't thought of it. But you're right."
"Will you be selling me to your folks?" she asked.
"Dad will be easy. He's my best friend, and if I tell him how special you are to me, he'll love you and be glad. Mom will hate you, but I expect that as part of the Disease."
"Disease?"
"Her alcoholism. She hates all my friends, guys and girls."
"You have other girlfriends? You never told me that." She was prickly tonight.
"That's not completely true. I have no other girlfriends, but I have a number of other girls who are just friends, and I distinctly remember telling you that. We even talked about them at the beach." I said, referring to our day "beached" on her living room floor.
She calmed a little. "You're right. I remember. I'm sorry, Justin. I just miss you so much it makes me crabby."
We got to Dipper Dan's. We ordered the usual.
"And Kelly?"
"Yes?"
"Please, for my sake, no oral sex with the ice cream tonight."
She laughed. "OK. But will you take me parking after ice cream?"
"Ice cream and parking? That's our date? And you complain about how other guys only want you for sex? How am I supposed to feel?"
"Like my sex toy. How does it feel?"
"I love it," I said, then more quietly, "But Kelly, remember that I make love with you, I don't have sex with you. Please always remember that difference."
"I remember it every minute," she replied, "It keeps me warm even on chilly spring mornings. That's why I want to go parking so badly."
It was a clear spring night. The peepers peeped all around the pond where we went. It was just about eight, and dark. The air was chilly. I kept the car running and turned on the heat with the top down. In 1973, gas was 29 cents a gallon.
"What time do you have to be home?" I asked.
"By 10 for sure, but it would be better if it was earlier." Kelly said.
She was wearing a shirt that buttoned in front. She had tied it up under her breasts, exposing her delicious tummy. Sometime during ice cream a few buttons that hadn't been unbuttoned in front of Dad had come loose, showing off smooth skin between lovely breasts (When had she done that? I wondered). She wore gym shorts that clung to her hips and showed her legs. She had moved to the middle of the bench seat after ice cream, and had held my leg while I drove.
"If you don't kiss me right now I'll scream," she said.
I took her in my arms. Our tongues explored each other. It was heavenly. I moved my hand inside her shirt and cupped her. She wore no bra. Her nipple was already hard. Her breast was an exact handful, and felt so firm, yet soft. I caressed it and squeezed her nipple gently. She sighed and moved her hand to my bulge. She felt me with her fingers, tracing its length. We spent a long time caressing each other. Then, she unzipped my pants and touched my cock through my briefs. I moved the waistband down so she had access to my manhood. She stood it up straight, and slowly stroked its length. We kissed some more. I moved to her shorts, cupping her pussy through the cotton. She moaned and spread her legs. I slipped my fingers inside her shorts and felt very wet panties. I moved them aside and found her pussy lips, wet and inviting. She stroked me harder, and started to breathe more heavily. I slipped a finger inside her vagina and started my own stroking motion to match hers on my cock. She bucked against my finger. She broke our kiss and panted as I finger-fucked her. She stopped stroking my cock as she was totally enveloped by the feel of my caresses.
"That's it, buster! Now you're going to get it!" She pulled away from my hand and dropped to take my cock into her mouth. She started giving me a most wonderful blowjob. As she did, she knelt on the seat, and I had the perfect chance to work her shorts and panties down to her knees. Then, I grabbed her by the waist, lifting her up. I dropped down to lay on the seat, and lowered her to my mouth. She pulled off my cock long enough to yelp as I lifted her. Realizing what I was doing, she resumed her kind ministrations to my dick. For my part, proud of my gymnastic skill, and feeling lucky she hadn't clamped her teeth at the wrong instant, I commenced to eat her most delightful pussy. I licked and sucked. I nibbled her lips, avoiding her clit. She ground her hips into my face and sucked hard on my cock, taking the head in her mouth and stroking my shaft with her hands. And so we enjoyed each other. I brought her to orgasm several times, which I could tell because she would come up for air, clench her legs to my ears, moan, and shudder. After a moment, she would resume her wonderful sucking.
"Do you want to make love?" I asked.
"No. I want to bring you off this way," she breathed.
"Fine with me. Just thought I'd ask," I replied happily. I resumed my own snack with renewed fervor.
Soon, I could hold back no longer. At almost the right moment she lifted her pussy off my face so she could swallow my entire length. When she did, I exploded in her throat, pumping what felt like gallons of sperm. She gagged, but held on tight, her nose touching my balls and my entire length down her throat. Unbelievable. I just cupped her ass cheeks and held them. Such a tight ass. Such wonderful cheeks. She came up for air - literally - gasping.