Author's note: This is one of my shorter stories; light on background and heavy on action. There's still a buildup, but less than I normally use.
The story contains hot-wife and group sex themes. You've been warned.
And the usual disclaimers: all characters are fictional, similarities to real-world people/events are purely coincidental, everyone involved is of legal consenting age, etc.
I never considered myself to be sexually adventurous. I'm not a prude by any means, just vanilla. Give me a little foreplay, missionary, and some pillow talk, and I'm a happy man. Besides, the use of 'vanilla' as an insult makes no sense to me. Vanilla is a fantastic flavor and goes well with just about anything. Classics are classics for a reason.
But as it turns out, I'm not actually vanilla. I just hadn't tasted the right alternative flavors yet.
My name is Tony. I'm a 32-year-old collegiate cross-country coach—a fact that will become very relevant later. I've been married to my beautiful wife Leslie for over five years, and our relationship continues to be stable, playful, and mutually supportive. We're both lifelong runners, appropriately meeting for the first time at a high school track meet. After hitting it off, we exchanged numbers and began talking... although we didn't actually start dating until we were in college. By fate, we happened to attend the same one, so we were able to see plenty of each other. The rest was history.
Leslie is my age, but she's often mistaken for a much younger woman. She's barely five feet tall, and although she is as curvy as would be expected for a woman in her thirties, strangers have been known to shoot me judgmental looks when they see us together. Besides her height, she also has a very sincere, innocent-looking face, which only increases her youthful appearance. Once she opens her mouth, though, the illusion of her being overly young shatters. She's quick-witted and can be a spitfire. More than one stranger has regretted their judgmental looks once Leslie went after them.
My cross-country team absolutely loved her. They immediately respected her for being a fellow runner, but Leslie also accompanied me to our races to support the team. She yelled and cheered just as enthusiastically as I did, and I know the boys appreciated it. The fact that she was attractive and young-looking probably helped too.
Some of the cockier boys would even comment how jealous they were of me, but I think all of them were too respectful—or too scared—to say anything so bold to her directly. I didn't mind the comments myself. After all, they were right. They should be jealous.
I'd been coaching at the college for a couple years by this point. It was a smaller college—Division II—but we did have some talented runners. I'd molded them well over the years, and against the odds, we qualified for the championship race for the first time in the school's history. Suddenly, we were on the NCAA map.
All of us, including Leslie, were ecstatic. The two of us and the team flew out to the hosting city, where we rented an Airbnb for us and a few rooms at a nearby hotel for the boys. The day of the race, we all gathered together for a final motivational push.
I put on my best Coach-voice.
"Listen boys, this is your last chance to show how hard you've worked this year. No matter how today goes, you've given people a reason to notice us, and nobody can take that away from you. You should be incredibly proud of yourselves. I know I am. We could come in dead last today, and I'd still feel the same way."
I paused for effect.
"But why settle for last? We've made waves just making it here, but why not try for more? Could you imagine how crazy it would be if you managed to place in the top half? Or even the top three? People would be talking about it for decades; how this small university exploded onto the cross-country scene out of nowhere... and now they were championship contenders. You all would be legends."
Sounds of agreement from the team.
Then Zach, our team captain, spoke up. "But what if we actually win? Like the whole thing? Do we get anything special? Maybe Ms. Leslie can buy us all dinner?"
Zach was one of the boys who liked to remind me how lucky I was to be married to Leslie. I looked at him, amused.
"You guys have come a long way, don't get me wrong. But this is the championship. I don't have to tell you it's the toughest competition you've ever faced. You would need to have the best runs of your lives to stand a chance of winning. But I'll tell you what. If you somehow pull it off, I'll do better than have Ms. Leslie buy you dinner. I'll have her flash you."
I meant it as an off-color joke, but the boys immediately started jeering wildly. Joke or not, they were riled up now. I counted myself lucky that Leslie was already further up the course, setting up at the half-way point to cheer them on. Still, I felt a bit guilty for offering her up as a prize, even in jest. But it's not like we had a chance of actually winning. It was just some harmless motivation at the end of a stellar season.
How wrong I was.
**
Several hours later, Leslie and I had returned to our Airbnb, simultaneously exhausted and exhilarated. Between some incredible times from our team and uncharacteristically poor performances from other teams, we did it. We had won the championship. Our small school defied the odds, dominating the field during its very first appearance. It was a once-in-a-generation moment.
Four of the boys were celebrating with us at the house: Zach, Randall, John, and Cody. The other boys had wanted to spend the evening exploring the town, but these four decided to hang with us instead. At first, I assumed they'd hoped for free alcohol, but looking back, I wondered if they were thinking about Leslie and the promise I'd made.
The six of us spent an hour or so laughing and hanging out around the kitchen/dining area. Leslie was on my lap to free up an additional seat; an arrangement I was plenty fine with, especially when she started teasing me gently with small hip movements. Apparently, the excitement in the air had gotten to her in more ways than one.
I took the hint. Time to send the team home, so Leslie and I could have some privacy.
"Listen boys, I can't say enough all proud I am of you all. But I think Leslie and I are getting worn out. It might be time to wrap up and call it a night."
There were exaggerated groans of disappointment. I was ruining their fun.
Zach spoke up. "But Coach, you haven't followed through on your promise yet. We held up our end of the deal. We won the championship. You can't leave us hanging now."
The other three chorused their agreement.
"What promise was that?" Leslie asked obliviously. I hadn't filled her in.
I sighed. I was going to be in so much trouble, but nothing for it now. Just had to get it over with.
