It all started when I was 14 years old. I was a fairly quiet girl, just starting at a new high school, smart, with plenty of friends. My favorite sport was basketball, and I played on the school team. The coach of the boy's team was a man by the name of Jason Golden. He stood about 5'11", and he had the most muscular and chiseled body that you could imagine. His chocolate brown skin, shaved head, and beautiful hazel eyes rounded out the picture nicely. But it was his personality that first drew me to him. Easily the funniest person I had ever met, he was always making people laugh. Also, he was very flirtatious, constantly touching and teasing me, and making insinuating remarks. But that came later.
I am 5'4", I have blue eyes and curly blonde hair I don't really know what to do with, and an athletic and toned body. As an athlete, I never appreciated my 34D breasts... they always got in the way. I usually wore a C cup just to make them look smaller. I had a crush or two throughout high school, but nothing serious. My mind was constantly on Coach Golden, or Jason, as I called him. I didn't really see him in a sexual light, but rather I felt safe with him and loved him like a brother. He became attached to me and looked out for my best interests.
Nearly every afternoon for four years I went to his office after school and flopped down on his couch and talked to him about everything. I told him about my troubles at school, my crushes on boys, my social life, and my hopes and dreams. Almost always he would come around from behind his desk and sit down on the couch with me, and then he would usually hold me on his lap while we talked. More than once I cried on his shoulder, and he always held me and comforted me. Not that we always got along. Sometimes he got overprotective in my opinion. If I was going to a party he always wanted to know where it was, who I would be with, and what time I would be home. If he heard I kissed a boy, he would yell at me for being naïve and convince me that the boy only wanted one thing.
That wasn't our only interaction. I often saw him around campus during the school day, and I usually got a wink and a hug from him. I always got a thrill in my stomach whenever we came across each other unexpectedly. He was at all of our basketball practices, and he sat behind the bench during the games and gave me advice. The reason we started spending time together in the first place is because he thought I had potential as a basketball player. Everyday at some point in the afternoon, whenever he had free time I guess, he would lift weights and workout in the gym. I would usually work out with him or at least hang around the gym while he was exercising. I knew he was proud of his physique, because he never wore a shirt when he worked out.
He used to play college basketball, so that's where he got his muscular body. I didn't really notice it when I first met him, but later, I really began to admire it. No high school boy ever had muscles so big and hard. He explained to me that the reason he had worked so hard on his body was for the job he took after college, before he worked at my high school. I asked him what that was, and he said he used to an underwear model. I didn't believe him at first, because he was always making jokes, but he showed me his picture on the front of a package of Hanes' boxer briefs. No question, it was him.
My parents loved Jason, they thought he was a really good influence on me, and a good role model for how a man should behave. I agreed, but as I got older, right about the time I turned 18, I started to see him in a new light. I loved the way my body felt when I was cuddled up against him, and the funny feeling in my stomach when he tickled me all over. I began to feel a little bit of sexual tension from him, but I wasn't sure, because I had never done anything past kissing.
I remember one day my senior year, right after I had turned 18 years old. I came into the gym after school, and my parents were there because we had a game that day. They were both sitting on the bottom row of the bleachers talking to Jason. He saw me and called me over, "Come here, baby." He never called me by my name. It was always "girl" or "baby," or some other pet name, which I didn't mind in the least. When I was within reach he pulled me to him and sat me on his lap and began to rub my shoulders, while continuing to talk to my parents about local sports, or whatever they were talking about. He didn't care that my parents were right there, and I didn't used to care either, back when I thought of him as a big brother. Now I wasn't sure how I felt, and I was exceedingly uncomfortable. I squirmed against him and tried to get up, but he held me tightly. My parents did not seem to see any problem with this, as they trusted him so much.
A far worse day came shortly after this, when a blonde woman walked into the gym looking lost. Jason immediately grabbed my arm and dragged me over there, saying, "Hey, I want you to meet somebody." I guessed he meant the woman, as that was the only person I didn't know, so I went over to her. "Kid, this is Jenn." She smiled at me and waved like I was a child. He took her hand, they were both smiling by this point, and he said, "She's my fiancée." I have never felt so completely shaken. The woman, Jenn, gave me yet another fake smile and began to talk to Jason as if I was not there. Not knowing what else to do, I turned and walked outside to the parking lot, got in my car, and sped out before I had to speak to anybody.
I didn't like Jenn from the jump. Apparently they knew each other in high school, but she always seemed so fake. I just knew she was cheating on him. I would have brought this up to him, but I don't know if he would care. From what people said, he had an active sex life and he cheated on her, too. Sounds like a great relationship. At least they hadn't set a wedding date yet.
I often spent Saturdays or Sundays at Jason's apartment, lying on the couch watching basketball or football games. Most of the time he would watch TV with me, but sometimes he would be in another room doing work. I always pouted when he did that, and I would ask him why I was there if he wasn't going to watch with me. His answer was always the same. "I just want to keep an eye on you, sweetheart." Occasionally my parents would let me spend the night with him. They trusted him completely. I loved those nights, because he always said he would sleep on the couch and I could have his bed, but I always felt guilty about putting him out of his bed and somehow we both ended up in the bed. And then he would pull me close and hold me all night. The first time I spent the night with him he gave me "the talk."
"Baby, you're a young woman now and I know you probably have certain... feelings inside you, and I don't want you to do something you will regret. The last thing I want is for you to let some boy get in your pants because you feel the need to have sex. So when you need to be touched, come to me and let me hold you and make you feel better. No boy deserves to take your innocence."
That was fine with me. Yeah, I got that feeling occasionally, ok, maybe frequently, but whenever I considered one of the boys from school, I remembered what Jason said. And being close to Jason was far better than anything one of the boys could have given me. Jason just smelled like a man, in a way that made me feel so small and fragile, but protected at the same time. When he held me I wanted time to stop, so I could cuddle with him forever. My favorite thing to do was play fight under the covers. We would wrestle and tumble around on the bed until he pinned me down or we fell off, in which case we would continue to wrestle. It was no real competition, my strength could never match his, but he was gentle and made sure never to hurt me. Half the time it would break down into him tickling me and chasing me around the apartment.
I don't know what Jenn did for a living, but there would be long periods of time when she wasn't around. I guess she traveled a lot. At any rate, she and Jason didn't live together. Jason talked about her less and less frequently, and that led me to believe that their relationship was deteriorating. He didn't seem too torn up about it, but he would brood occasionally, and he got stricter with me as far as who I spent time with, and what time I got home at night.
One Friday night I went over to his place to watch a game and spend the night. He seemed a little bit down, and said he couldn't watch the game with me cause he had work to do. I knew something was wrong when he offered me a beer. I followed him into the bedroom to find him lying on the bed with his eyes closed. I climbed in and lay next to him, and asked him what was wrong. He denied it at first, but finally he said, "Jenn and I broke it off for good a few weeks ago. There was just too much red tape in our relationship. I guess I didn't really love her, because I'm already over that." When I pressed him further to find out what was really bothering him, he looked at me for a long moment out of those hazel eyes and said softly, "I'm just lonely."
