The Substitute Coach

"Yes! I can't believe it! The Richmond Rattlers have done it; they're through to the playoffs!" The announcer cheered over the loudspeaker as the crowd went crazy.

"Avy, you did it!" Miguel cheered, hugging me tightly while the entire school celebrated in the stands. I however was looking dumbstruck at the score. 'I can't believe that they actually won!' I thought while I watched my husband, the principal, celebrate our school team's victory.

An hour later, I was still in a state of shock as I watched the team strip out of their shorts in front of me in the team shower room. Each boy was more muscular than the next, and I blushed furiously at the sight of bulges in each of their boxers.

Meanwhile, I stood in front of them, their substitute coach. With my bright blue eyes, long blonde hair, big 36DD tits on my curvy body and big bubble butt, I knew I looked out of place as the only white woman in front of five half-naked 18-year-old black athletes in the boy's locker room. My beautiful face betrayed my nervousness and I stared blankly back at the team of black teenage studs.

"I should never have listened to Isis!" I whispered to myself, shaking my head.

***

Chapter 1 : The Bet

Two Months Ago

I'm Avy Scott, the school biology teacher. I'm happily married to Miguel, the school principal and the love of my life. We've got two amazing kids: Kayla, my elder daughter, a senior in school and Manny, my younger son. I had always wanted to be a teacher; I was the youngest teacher to join Richmond High, and even after being here for 11 years now, I still love teaching.

Richmond High was always an average-sized public school, but after Miguel became principal, things changed. He focussed on academics first, getting our student scores above national averages within two years of joining. After that, he decided to aim for sports, hiring two great coaches, Coach Carter and Coach Simmons, for the baseball and basketball teams.

Things seemed to be going well with baseball, with Coach Carter being an excellent fit. But, in my opinion, Coach Simmons was a horrible pick for the basketball team. He may have been a famous coach with excellent credentials and a stellar record. But to me, he was the most obnoxious pig of a human I'd ever met.

His game plan didn't make any sense to me at all, and I knew my stuff. I had played basketball for four years during college, making it onto the state champion team. I had even been scouted by a few recruiters before I realized that I preferred Teaching as a career, rather than aim to be a professional athlete.

However, even though I'd become a biology teacher at the school; I loved basketball and made sure to attend every game, supporting my school team, the Richmond Rattlers. We had always been an average team and had high hopes for improving in the rankings after Coach Simmons joined. But after a couple of games watching the Rattlers get pummeled by our opponents, I just had to say something. One day, after a bad match, where we had lost by more than twenty points. I went up to the coach to give some feedback.

I headed up straight to his office, fully intent on giving him a piece of my mind. "I don't know why you keep sending your point guard to cover their centre?" I fumed at the man.

Coach Simmons was a man in his early 40s, with thick grey hair and a permanent smug look on his face. He was busy signing some forms in his office but paused and looked back at me when I entered, eyeing my body from my heels to my tight pencil skirt. His eyes lingered at the cleavage of my breasts before he spoke in his thick drawl, "And why the F- should I listen to the biology teacher about basketball plays?"

I blushed, taken aback and replied, my voice faltering slightly. "Y-you are not the only one who knows a thing or two about basketball. You're covering our centre man with a guard half his height! How do you expect that to work? You need to switch it up with your strategies, or we will never win."

His eyes never left my tits as he chuckled in condescension, "I'll make a note of that, sweetheart. Now run along and teach those kids biology, eh? Don't worry your pretty little head about the basketball team now..." he turned away dismissively without listening to me further.

This continued for the next two months, I would try to talk to coach Simmons many times about his plays, but he would just stand there leering at my tits all the time to listen to me. I tried talking to Miguel, but he only laughed, telling me to leave the Coach alone.

However, after our basketball team lost five games in a row, the boys were so disheartened that most dropped out of the team. Rather than accept his mistake and work on it, Coach Simmons quit and joined one of the other schools in our district instead, claiming that nothing could be done for the team if the boys themselves weren't talented.

***

"See. I told you for months that he was a bad fit. But you didn't listen to me Miguel!" I told off my husband.

"And I already said that I'm sorry Avy. But that still doesn't help me. We need a new coach fast and I am out of options." he sighed and shook his head while sitting behind his desk.

"Make sure you hire someone who actually knows something about the sport. Don't just hire them based on their reputations!" I said as I leaned over my husband's desk.

"Yes honey. I will make sure to hire someone who has atleast the same knowledge of the game as you do--" he began speaking and then paused as he eyed me up, a smile forming on his lips.

"What? What are you thinking, Miguel?" I knew that smile, and it always meant trouble for me.

"Why don't you be the substitute coach?"

"What! Are you crazy? I'm the biology teacher. I know about basketball but nothing about coaching 18-year-old boys."

"Please mi amor! It'll just be for a few months," he pleaded with me. "Simmons left us with only five players. We've already lost the five games, and I need someone to keep the team together until I find a replacement."

I was tempted; it might be a chance to prove myself after months of being ignored. But it just wasn't possible.

"Miguel, I've got my own classes to handle..." I protested, flipping my blonde hair out of my face as I looked at him. "And I don't think you'd ever get the school board to approve a woman to take over the boy's team. It's never happened before."

"You don't need to worry about that; I'll handle them, and regarding the workload, it's not going to be much. There are only five players left on the team. Coach Carter's son, Duane, is the captain; he's good enough to lead and train the team. But I need at least one adult who knows at least a little bit of basketball to be there during practice so that we actually have a team left by the time I can find a replacement..." Miguel reasoned with me. I sighed and shook my head, knowing he wouldn't give this up.

"Alright, alright", I nodded reluctantly; I could never say 'No' to Miguel if he needed me.

"Thanks, babe" Miguel grinned and kissed me on the cheek. "I promise that you won't have a hard time. Duane's a good leader, and he can help you out!"

That is how I ended up at the school basketball court the following Saturday after school, along with Migue. Duane, Jake, Kyle, Marvin and Winston, the last five players on Richmond High's basketball team, stood in front of us. They were each over 6 feet tall, with Duane being the tallest at 6'4". They were all in my biology class, average students at best, who hardly ever paid attention to me in class.

But as I stood in front of them, dressed in my tight pencil skirt with a white blouse, I couldn't help but feel self-conscious with all five eyes trained on me. Duane, in particular, had a cheeky grin as he eyed me up and down.

"So Ms. Avy has been kind enough to agree to be the substitute coach for the team until we find a replacement", Miguel announced sternly. "I expect you boys to treat her with respect and listen to her until we get a regular."

I noticed Duane smirking at Miguel's words, nudging Marvin next to him and whispering something in his ear. Marvin's eyes widened, and I caught him looking at me with a dirty smile on his lips. My cheeks flushed red, and I looked away quickly.

"Duane! Pay attention..." Miguel snapped at Duane, "You're the captain, and I expect you to set an example. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Principal Martinez", Duane replied cockily, "We'll make sure to take VERY good care of your wife."

The way he stressed the word 'very' made my blush deepen, and Miguel glared at Duane before nodding and leaving me alone with them. I swallowed nervously, adjusting the hem of my skirt, wishing I had worn something longer.

I know that I am a very attractive woman; Miguel constantly tells me that, but with these five eighteen-year-old black boys staring at me, I suddenly felt like my long wavy blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and curvy body with big breasts, and wide hips weren't such a great thing anymore.

"Ok, boys", I began awkwardly once Miguel had left, "Principal Martinez thinks we can still turn things around for the championship this year..."

"Does he now?" Duane cut me off, stepping closer, "Maybe if we had a real coach instead of a bored science teacher filling in for her husband..."

"Excuse me?" I frowned, taken aback by Duane's cockiness. "I know I'm only filling in temporarily, but I played basketball myself, so please show me some respect, Duane. I AM still your Coach."

"Oh...Reeeaaally?" He smirked again, stepping even closer to me. He towered over me in his jersey shorts and sneakers, making me look up at him. I couldn't help but notice his board shoulders and muscular arms.

"And how do you propose to 'help' us win? This ain't biology class, Ms. Avy..." he teased me, licking his lips as he stared at my tits.

"What's THAT supposed to mean?" I demanded angrily, my hands on my hips, narrowing my eyes at the young man before me. I glanced at the other boys who had spread out on the court, watching us intently.

"What it means is that we'll continue to train the way we want to... and you can stand there and watch...'Coach'." he said condescendingly before turning around to join the other boys as he led them back to the court. I fumed silently, glaring at their backs. This was going to be harder than I thought...

***

I've never been one to give up on any challenge. I started coming early to practices, watching videos, and trying to analyse their gameplay and strengths. During practice, I spent the entire time shouting instructions to Duane and the boys, trying to get them to listen.

However, the boys seemed more interested in checking out my body than listening to me. Whenever I got them to line up for me, their eyes were glued to my long legs and tits, making me wonder if they even heard a single thing I was telling them to do. So I made sure to dress conservatively in loose-fitting sweatpants and baggy jackets, hoping to stop Duane and the others from ogling me. But no matter what I wore, whenever they stood in front of me, I always felt their eyes on me, undressing my curvy body rather than listening to my instructions.

The problem was Duane; he was a fantastic player with natural talent. Charismatic and a natural leader, he actually led the team quite well. The other boys followed him like sheep, doing whatever he said. But he was also very cocky and arrogant, openly flirting with me while ignoring everything I said.

It got to the point where I would shout out tips and suggestions, and Duane would have his team do the complete opposite, grinning at me as he did so, driving in the point that this team would only do what he wanted. Duane had to be reined in if I needed to whip these guys into shape.

***

"Duane, can you stay behind after practice today? I need to talk to you," I told the cocky teenager as the team walked back to the showers after practice one day.

The other boys gave their captain a teasing smirk, clapping him on his back as they headed to the showers. Duane, however, only shrugged, approaching me casually once everyone else had left. I was standing by the bleachers, waiting for him with my clipboard.

"Something bothering you, Coach Avy?" he smirked at me, standing before me with a towel draped across his shoulders. His jersey shorts hung low on his hips, revealing his tight abs. He was sweaty from practice; beads of perspiration trickled slowly down his chest and big muscular arms.

This was the first time I was alone with him, and for the first time, I realized just how big Duane really was. I blushed slightly and looked up at him, my eyes tracing his chiselled black body. Despite my anger, I couldn't help but admire his amazing physique. He reminded me of the black basketball stars I fantasized about when I was younger. He was THAT hot!

"I..uhhh..I wanted to talk to you about practice, Duane..." I blushed and stammered, trying to focus on my notes in front of me. "I need you to lead by example, listen to my instructions and motivate the rest of the team."

"Oh really?" he chuckled. He took my clipboard from my hands, flipping through my notes before taking another step forward. We were now inches apart, and I blushed, looking away.

He put my clipboard aside on a bench before tilting my chin upwards so I could look at him. I gasped; the musky scent of his sweat filled my nostrils as he held my chin firmly. His touch sent a thrill through my body, and I froze, unsure how to react.

"Don't take it personally, Coach..." he smirked, looking down into my eyes with that cocky smile of his, "I don't listen to anyone. I lead the team my way..."

He let go of my chin, wiping a few strands of my wavy blonde hair from my face. I blushed furiously, unable to believe Duane's audacity. I opened my mouth to protest, but he turned around and sauntered towards the locker room before I could speak.

I fumed silently, picking up my clipboard and storming out of the gym. I knew I HAD to get Duane under control if I was ever going to make this team a success.

However, after one month and losing two more games, our team was close to the bottom, having a slim to none chance of mocking the playoffs. When this happened the boys started getting bored and began to miss practice or come in late. I was getting increasingly frustrated every day. At this point, I was just trying to ensure they at least showed up for practice.

It wasn't until I met up with Isis, my friend, at school that I got an idea of motivating the boys.

***

Isis is amazing; she's a single divorced- mom. She's gorgeous, confident and has a wicked sense of humour. Her son Daniel is in Kayla's year, and her other son Diego is Manny's best friend. She's always great at giving advice, so when she caught me talking to Duane at school one day, I couldn't help but tell her how frustrated I was with the basketball team.

"I've tried everything, Isis", I sighed heavily, sitting with her at the local bar after school one evening. "They ignore my instructions, come to practice late, and it's almost impossible to motivate them..."

"Wow, Avy", Isis laughed, sipping her wine, "I've never seen you give up on a challenge ever in your life..."

"I'm not giving up." I rolled my eyes at her, swirling the ice in my glass. "It's just frustrating when they treat me like that! If only I could motivate them somehow..."

"Motivate them, huh?" she smirked at me, raising an eyebrow.

"What are you thinking?" I asked suspiciously, looking at her. I knew that smirk.

"Maybe you can set the team some target, some reward for them if they win five games in a row or something. I'm sure there's something these players want desperately that you can motivate them with?" she grinned.

"Oh, Isis, you're brilliant! That's exactly what I can do. I need to give them an incentive to win. I just need to find out what they want and how to get them to earn it!" I squealed excitedly, giving her a hug.

As we spent another hour chatting about other things, I couldn't help but wonder what incentive to offer the boys. By the time Miguel picked me up from the bar, I still hadn't figured out a plan. But her suggestion had sparked a light bulb in my head, and I was sure I'd figure something out.

***

"Cookies! You think we are going to work our asses off to eat cookies?!" Duane scoffed, looking at me incredulously the following Saturday morning.

He and the rest of the team stood before me in their basketball jerseys and shorts. I was wearing a tracksuit with my blonde hair tied into a ponytail and a box of homemade chocolate chip cookies in my hand.

"Well, look, we've lost a few games, but we still have a chance to reach the playoffs", I explained patiently, showing Duane and the rest of the team the board, "We just need to win the next four games!"

"The cookies do taste good, though..." Jake commented with a grin to Duane, licking the crumbs off his fingers.

"See! Jake gets it" I smiled at Jake, ecstatic that at least one of them was interested, handing him another one, "I've baked them specially for you boys today. And I'll bake more for each win!"

Duane gave me a evil smirk, grabbing a cookie from the box as he eyed me up and down, his eyes lingering on my tits. I blushed but still smiled at him. If bribing them with cookies would work, I wasn't complaining.

"Hmmmm....these ARE delicious," Duane winked at me, biting into the cookie, "But I don't know Coach, I think we deserve a lot MORE if we ever reach the playoffs..."

My smile faltered, why did Duane have to make this so difficult? He licked his lips, smirking at me, his eyes fixed on my mouth. I bit my lower lip and looked away quickly.

"Well, cookies are all you're getting", I retorted, turning around and walking onto the court, hiding my blushing cheeks, "Now let's get started..."

***

"Hey, Mom. How's the basketball coaching going?" Kayla asked me that evening when I got home after dropping Manny off at Diego's place. Miguel was still at school sorting out paperwork.

"It...well... to be honest... it is not going, great, sweetie. Why do you ask?" I admitted ruefully, plopping down on the couch next to Kayla.

"Well, Dad and Manny were talking about it earlier today; both were saying that it will be a miracle if we win even another game this season!" she giggled, looking at me sympathetically.

"Your father and brother's attitude is NOT helping Kayla", I sighed exasperatedly, leaning back on the couch, "I've been working hard, and all they do is laugh at me and mock me!" then I told her about the cookie fiasco.

"Well, do you need any help? I mean, it's just you alone with those guys. Maybe I could come over, you know, for some moral support!" she suggested enthusiastically, flipping her long, wavy blonde hair over her shoulder.

I looked over at her, my beautiful daughter; she had definitely inherited my looks, slim with a toned body and big boobs. She was a cheerleader for Richmond High's baseball team, and her boyfriend, Tom, was on the team. I knew how Duane would react if Kayla came to watch practices and I immediately shut down this suggestion in a second. I HAD to keep her away from the boys.

"No, no... I'll be fine... In fact, Isis is coming over tomorrow to help me out. Mom will win at least one game, even if it's the last thing I do!" I smiled at Kayla.

***

"Hey Avy. Where is everyone?" I heard her cheerful voice call me out as I waited for the team by the benches.

I looked up at her and smiled, "They're all late...again! Duane just messaged that they'll be here in 15 minutes, but I don't think this is going to work out, Isis." I sighed dejectedly, "I mean, I can't even get this bunch to show up on time. Maybe you can talk to them for me."

However, her face fell when I asked her for the favour, "Ahhh... well... I don't know about that. Actually, I just popped by to cheer you up a bit before your practice. I am running late for Autumn's photo shoot." she said while looking at her watch.