Coach Teaches Us A Lesson

Note to reader: What if you didn't know what kind of sexual persona you were, until you were put into a situation where the path wasn't clearly defined, and you had to adapt? The further down that rabbit hole you traveled, the harder it was to turn around? Is that the real you? Or, is it an exploration, an experiment that will run it's course and leave you different than you were? In this next story, I try to explore this situation, in greater detail, while still empowering the reader's imagination, to make the people and situations more relatable. Enjoy!

"Wanna Bet?" I heard my wife of two years say, and I inwardly groaned. She kind of resented Coach, she felt he didn't play me enough. I felt that way too, but if you wanted to play at all you didn't cross him. Or, challenge his pride by arguing baseball with him.

I looked over, and she was staring into his cold blue eyes, waiting for an answer. He stared back, momentarily shifting his attention from the practice, and the game he was watching on his phone.

"Stakes?" he asked, almost condescendingly.

"If the MudCats win, my husband Mike gets to drive your car home." She looked over at me and winked. I winced again, Coach's one prized possession was his classic Mustang, jet black, roaring V8 engine, he doted over it like a prized bull, always polishing it, waxing it, and working under the hood. Even if Jeanie won, Coach would never forgive me for taking that car for a ride. Jeanie's stakes were designed to humiliation him. I know she was trying to do me a favor, but, oh, no..

Coach seemed to growl at the idea, but wasn't backing down. "Alright. My stakes: If the Durham Bulls win, you will be my personal, obedient servant for the entire next game, all nine innings, on Saturday." he said. "In my home." He added, a sinister edge in is voice.

"Whoa!" I thought, that was pushing things pretty far. My wife Jeanie was very sporty, she played Beach volleyball for the college team, field hockey, and was a coach herself for junior softball. She was demanding and determined, and very proud of her knowledge of sports; hardly the housewife-type, and proud of her independence. Not prone to subservience or to accept humiliation lightly. As my wife, I didn't like the implications around her "serving" my coach, even if it was innocent fun. I thought for sure she'd decline.

She put out her tiny hand, her stance, even at 5'2, was defiant and strong. Coach stood up slowly, his heavily muscled 6' frame almost covering Jeanie in shadow, even for a man his age (mid 50s I'd guess) he was fit and agile. He took her tiny hand and shook it.

"Done" Jeanie said. I had a bad feeling about this, even as Jeanie looked gleeful, as if she'd put one over on Coach; the Bulls were getting their asses handed to them, the MudCat's pitcher was on his game. A no hitter, by the third inning. It seemed a safe bet. I held my breath.

I turned and loaded the gear into our van, and helped the team pack, watching as they each drove off, seemingly abandoning me to my fate. I got back to where Jeanie and Coach were watching the game, just in time to see the momentum switch and the Bulls started scoring. They won, Jeanie looked white as a ghost. She never liked Coach, called him "Walrus-face" behind his back due to his handlebar mustache, and always joked that he was so mean that certainly he must have killed his wife and buried her body in his backyard. This was not going to be pretty.

Coach used his phone to playback a MudCats pitch in the 5th inning: "See here?" he showed her, "He lost his balance, he does that on every fastball pitch." He explained, "Now, watch the 'Cat's batter. Look at his eyes. He's sneering, focused on the pitcher, instead of the outfield. That particular batter is a hit man, he'll try to take out the pitcher, but the pitcher doesn't see it." he fast forwarded to that moment. "The batter line-drives right at the pitcher's head, but the pitcher is off balance and tied to dodge! He winds up falling over, and if that ball connected to his skull, it would have ended his career. At that moment, he lost his nerve, and the game." Coach explained. "Your husband has the same problem; His fastball is better than anyone I've ever seen, but he does not read his opponent. He misses clues that might give him and edge."

Coach stood up. "See you both Saturday." He revved the engine of his car a few times to make his point, and sped off.

I didn't like this. Coach was an authority figure, having my wife serving him felt, uncomfortable, like I was being cucked or something. It wasn't cheating as much, but it felt like it was, maybe on a spiritual level or something. I wasn't happy. Jeanie seemed angry at me for some reason, the next few days were uncomfortable, to say the least.

Well, we survived until Saturday, and true to the wager arrived at Coaches home to pay up.

His "Man cave" was a double garage, one side an alter to Ford and all things Mustang, the other side a couch, big screen TV, an overstuffed easy chair, a classic mechanical pinball machine and a vintage Vegas slot machine, and of course a lifetime collection of baseball memorabilia. He met us dressed in sweat pants and hoodie, flip flips on his feet, fresh from a workout. The game was just starting, he looked over at me and said "Make yourself comfortable" pointing to a cooler of beer. Then, turning to Jeanie, said "Ready to pay up?"

She glared at him, silently nodding.

He shook his head. "No, baby-doll. For the duration of this game, you will address me as 'Sir" or ...."

He paused.

"Daddy"

Jeanie looked scandalized, her face red with fury. But she met his eyes with fierce defiance, and replied "Yes, sir.", in a low growl, almost spitting the words out.

The first pitch was thrown, Coach had Jeanie stand next to his chair, and called her attention to the game. "See the pitcher here, he's getting ready to throw a curve ball? Do you see it?"

"Yes Sir" she spat.

"How do you know it's a curve ball, not a fast ball?" He asked her. She studied the screen, and shook her head.

"Answer!" he said.

"The catcher's signal, he's..." she forced the words out.

"Don't look at the catcher! Everyone does that. Look at the pitcher! See his trailing foot, he digs in for a fast ball, but stands on the ball of his foot for a curve ball. Watch!" he said. This went on for the first inning, Coach pointing out tiny details and eventually Jeanie relaxed a little, taking in the lessons and trying to see what he told her to look for. At the next inning, Coach indicated he needed a fresh beer, and when Jeanie returned to hand it to him, he said "No. Come over hear and sit on my lap!" Grinning like a devil, and glancing over at me.

Jeanie looked like she was going to chuck the beer can at his head, but took a deep breath and gingerly sat on his knee, as if she was sitting on barbed wire. Coach grinned and turned his attention back to the game, calling out things that either team telegraphed about upcoming plays or exposing weaknesses. I was fascinated, he was a genius at detecting these things. I sat nearby and listened eagerly, Jeanie's humiliation was almost forgotten as she took in the knowledge Coach was sharing freely.

Then, by the third inning, he tested Jeanie "Describe what you see on the field" as the batter took his position. Jeanine started "The infield is moving in, they expect a short drive or a strike?" She said. "No, the batter will pop up to right field!" he corrected her, "Look where he's looking, checking out the position of those infielders..." and sure enough, he called it.

Jeanie looked frustrated that she didn't catch that, and I saw her physically relax on his lap, getting more comfortable even as she focused on the game. Coach said "See if you can anticipate the next play, Baby doll, if you get it right you can take a one inning break, if not, you call me "Daddy" until the end of the game."

Jeanie scowled at the suggestion, but ever eager to beat him as his own game, nodded her agreement. No matter how angry she was, she was eating up his lessons and coaching. The pitcher nodded at the signals, and was winding up, the batter glanced at first base.

"He's going to swing and miss, Sir!" she called out, "His grip is too far up the bat!" She announced with confidence.

The pitcher wound up.

Coach said "He's going to bunt down the third base line, if the infielder is quick he'll be out at first; but it's going to be tight."

We all stared intently at the screen, I looked at the players, trying to figure out what Coach saw. The pitch came in, the batter bunted! I heard Jeanie say "Shit!" Coach just grinned. "The batter telegraphed his intentions, by avoiding looking down third, very unnatural for him, but he was trying to throw the pitcher off, and they fell for it." He explained. Jeanie's shoulders just fell, she was resigned to finishing out the game. "Yes, Daddy" she said, through gritted teeth.

Despite taking every chance to playfully humiliate her, Coach kept up his lessons, and Jeanie eagerly watched the game, trying to out-guess him. "Tell me everything you see, describe the game to me" He told her.

"I see the first baseman glancing to the runner, taking a big lead off the base....Daddy!" she replied. This went on for the next several innings, Jeanie calling out details and I noticed she sat directly on his lap, his arm around her, as she wriggled and snuggled in. Her voice lost it's venom, and he said "Daddy" in more and more of an affectionate tone. I was getting uncomfortable, the more she relaxed around him. I noticed she would turn and talk into his ear, and he'd reply into hers. By the eight inning, they were almost cuddling, he had both hands around her waist. They whispered and giggled, almost forgetting the game. I turned to get a cold beer and when I returned, I noticed Jeanie had taken her bra off and it was kicked under his chair, barely visible. Her small tits jiggling free under her jersey, just inches from his face, her nipples hard. I wondered if she's done it freely, or else they made another side-bet? One she lost? In any case, she was getting a little to friendly with him for my comfort.

During a time-out, I stood up and tried to interrupt them, anything to remind them I was still in the room. "Um, Coach, you're out of beer" I said, trying to get her off his lap. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a $50, and the keys to his car, handing them to Jeanie, and then saying "Go get us a case or two, would you? ' Then, looking into her eyes, saying "You know what I like."

Jeanie handed me the cash and keys without breaking eye contact with him. I felt jealous, my wife sitting on another man's lap, bet or no bet. My alarm bells were going off, and I didn't want to leave them alone, so I said "Um, the game's almost over, we can wait for the last inning." I just wanted to hear the announcer call that final out, then grab Jeanie and get out of here.

They both seemed to ignore me, so I took Jeanie's hand off his shoulder and tugged her a little, trying to separate them. Coach looked over at me and said "What do you think is going to happen? Jeanie's safe with me!" But he flashed that wicked grin and Jeanine giggled at the suggestion. I felt very uncomfortable now, and tugged her hand again. She looked over at me as if I was not understanding, or interrupting, but then coach said "I'll pause the game, Jeanie go with him. I'll wait for you to return." And grinned again.

She scowled. "You won't cheat, Daddy?" She asked, teasingly I thought.

"Not as much as you." Coach replied, slightly smirking. I thought that an odd comment, but let it go, eager to get her away from him. Jeanine leapt up and settled into the leather passenger seat of Coach's mustang, as if she was snuggling with a lover.

The Mustang roared to life, and I carefully backed it out, Jeanie was excited, settling into the passenger seat and running her hand over the leather dash.

"I guess we both are coming out ahead in this wager, sweetie!" she said "You get to drive his car after all!"

I scowled at her. "What's going on back there? You went from 'Walrus-face' to 'Yes, Daddy!' pretty quick!" Jeanie just smiled, her eyes dreamily staring into the night.

"Did you see his muscles? His body is hard as a rock, so powerful!" She giggled and ran her hand along my inner thigh, up to my crotch, gently massaging my cock and balls through my jeans. "It was like sitting on an oak tree, I could feel him, he was so...He know so much about baseball, beyond the game! His eye for reading people! Amazing! And his confidence, so sexy...." She stopped, thinking better of what she was saying. Then, she turned to me and said "Just one inning to go, and I can get my hot, horny husband alone!" I felt a little better, still unnerved at her sudden arousal, but eager to get her away from him. She leaned over and nibbled my ear, "Maybe we won't wait for the game to be over!" She teased. Her sexual aggressiveness was a surprise, but welcome. I rushed to the store, and almost got a speeding ticket going back, the car was amazing.

We pulled back into the garage, the game was still paused but Coach was not in his chair. I put the car keys and beer up, but when I walked back Jeanie was standing near the black polished hood of his car, still warm from the engine. She looked over at me, sexily.

"Do you want to get naughty?" She asked, in a sultry tone. Her hands running over my chest and cupping my balls again. I knew this was risky, and way out of line for either of us. My dick, however, had a mind of it's own, started to stiffen up even as I glanced around nervously for any sign of Coach's return. Jeanie took my head into her hands and kissed me, her tongue snaking into my mouth, her hot breath on my face. She started to rip off my clothes, right there, I tried to stop her but she was wild, unchained. She tossed her jersey off and stood there topless, her nipples hard and her chest heaving. In a moment, she was fully nude, rubbing her body up against mine. I glanced up again, making sure Coach was not nearby, and let Jeanie drop my pants. She massaged my cock and rubbed it over her labia, I could tell she was already soaked and ready. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I felt all my common sense and resistance fail. I kissed her, hard; my hands massaging her tits and pulling her close to me, crushing my cock between us. Jeanine grinned at me, a devious smile, and then turned, bending over the hood, and exposing her ass to me. She pushed back and rubbed my cock with her wet pussy, almost begging "Give it to me, stud!" My cock found her slick, hot entrance. "Oh, yes!" She moaned with delight as I sunk my rod deep. I started to pump into her.

"Oh...! GOD!! Yes...! Oh...! Stick it in! Oh...! Fuck me...!!" she cried, not caring who might hear. As I continued my assault, she exclaimed a final time, "I... want you...Mike! Fuck me!!!"

I needed no encouragement, but it was great to hear. My erect cock and plunged it deep inside her.

"Yes!! Fuck me!!!" she exclaimed, falling forward against the hood.

I pumped in and out of her hot pussy vigorously as we both panted heavily. I pulled her hips into mine, she thrust back against me.

"Yes! Yes!!!" she shouted, each time with a more primal urgency in her voice. In the back of my mind, I was aware that this was different, somehow, that all the prior times we'd fucked. This time, Jeanie was much more intense, more passionate. She seemed to wriggle her body in order to aim my cock at her most sensitive regions, by moving her hips or legs, and set the pace by fucking me back. It was a much better fuck that a simple quickie in the garage, more intimate, more powerful. I was on top of her, but she was directing everything. Doing it on Coach's car, in his own garage, afraid of getting caught only added to the intensity. So risky, so naughty.

I lost all control, and plunged my cock deep into her tight, wet pussy in one rough stroke, she pushed back, gasping, and started to fuck me harder. Her hips rotating, her cunt tight and squeezing my cock, she moaned and cried out "Fuck me! Faster! Yes! Oh, God, Yes!" I never felt her so wild and unleashed, and I enthusiastically fucked her back, grabbing her waist and sliding my cock deep into her hot cunt. I have to admit, after an afternoon of being ignored and humiliated, it felt awesome to be bad. "GOD!! Yes...! Oh...! Cum inside...! Fill me up! Cum in me...!!" she cried, demanding and begging, "I want your cum! Mike! Fuck me!!! I... want you...Cum! Your hot cum! Mike! Fuck me! Fill me!!" She leaned forward, her tits pressed against the shiny smooth hood of the Mustang, Coach's prized possession, I drove my cock into her like a jack hammer, until finally I ejaculated over and over, pumping hot sticky cum deep into my wife. She squealed and cried out, "Yes! Yes! Fill me up! All your cum! Oh, yes!" until I collapsed on top of her sweaty, gasping body.

Just then, I heard a noise, and startled, looked up to see Coach standing there, he had removed his hoodie, his muscled frame looking jacked, sweaty, athletic. He must have been working out in the next room. Startled and ashamed for getting caught, on his car, no less, I jumped up, trying to pull up my pants quickly, and only managed to stumble back, frozen liked a rabbit in his headlights. Coach didn't seem phased at at.

"Did you bring me what I asked for?" Coach inquired, but to Jeanie, not me. She rolled over his hood, onto her back, drawing her legs up like a car-show model. I noticed there was a sweaty imprint of her tits left on the hood, it the unmistakable silhouette of a nude woman in the finish, down to the splash of wetness where her pussy was a moment ago. Jeanie spread her legs, shamelessly exposing her wet, raw cunt, just fucked and filled with my cum. It seeped out and ran down her thighs. She exposed herself like a porn star, sultry and bold.

"Yes, Daddy" she said, spreading her legs. "I brought you what you asked for."

Coach looked over at me, and said "Mind if I get a taste?' I was stunned, not knowing what was happening, Coach moved down between my wife's nude legs, putting her knees on his bare broad shoulders, and started to lap at her dripping pussy with his tongue.

Slowly, he licked down each of Jeanie's thighs, and then up again, licking up all traces of her cum and mine, then pulled her legs up and started to lick her tight pink asshole and then up her labia to her swollen clit, sucking and licking and nibbling as he went. Jeanie giggled, then moaned with pleasure, then cried out as he moved close to her hard little clit. His arms, when flexed, were thicker than my wife's thighs, and he pulled her cunt closer to his face. "Oh......Coach!!" she cried out, her breath being drawn and exhaled in desperate, moaning gasps. "Eat me! Eat me!" she begged. "Eat my hot pussy! Do you like it? Do you like eating my man's fresh cum out of my hot cunt? Tell me?" My wife's words spoken in a halting pant as she humped against Coach's face. He grunted an affirmative and kept going. Jeanie was going mad, she stared at me, boldly, while Coach ate her pussy. I was stunned watching, as her legs tightening around his neck, her arms flailing, her head tossed back, her eyes wild. She was making noises like I'd never heard from her before, her body writhing and quaking with orgasm after orgasm.

Coach was relentless, eating her pussy with more and more urgency, even as she pulled his head in and scrubbed her cunt over his face. He licked her deeply, greedily devouring her pussy and swallowing every last drop of my fresh hot semen, his face shiny and wet.

"Look at your coach eating my hot, nasty pussy! Oh, God! His tongue is so deep in me!" She squealed as an orgasm rocked her body.

Jeanie reached out for me, almost in desperation, and pulled my face close her hers, kissing me passionately even as Coach ate her pussy to another orgasm. Kissing my wife while another man pleasured her pussy was insane, especially the pussy I had just fucked, and filled with my cum. I was turned on like crazy, well past any logic or reason, and kissed her back, as she came on his mouth, over and over. I'd never seen her like this before, so shameless, so wild. I was getting turned on just watching my wife writhe in ecstasy.