The Miler Ch. 02

I met the middle distance team, both male and female, at 7 AM the next morning for our three mile warm-up run. Well, for their three mile warm-up run; I was on roller blades. There were the four girls from the day before and seven guys.

"Why do you get to roller blade?" one of the guys asked. "I wanna feel some shared sacrifice from my coach!" The guys and most of the girls all laughed, but not Jessica, who was supporting herself on a very pleased freshman boy while stretching her quads. She was staring at me a bit like a cat stares at a mouse.

"Anyone who has knees as bad as mine gets to roller blade ... and they get kicked off the track team," I retorted. "Let's go."

I started down the paved path that led through the campus, looking over my shoulder after a few yards to verify that everyone was following. When I came to a parking lot after half a mile, I skated circles while the runners caught up. Most of the guys were in an impromptu sprint race to the lot, followed by Jessica and her new freshman friend, with the remaining three girls in a pack bringing up the rear.

"Shush," one of the last three girls said, as they came up to me, and then, in a playful voice, "Hi, coach James," which they all found very funny.

"Let's pick up the pace, ladies."

"I don't think I can make it, coach -- will you carry me?" More laughter.

It wasn't over. "I think I'm getting a cramp in my thigh; could you massage it for me?"

"Could you massage my feet?" said a second.

"I've got an itch I bet you could scratch," said a third, in a low voice, and blowing me a kiss as she ran by. They all cackled.

I fell in behind them, skating slowly. "You've got my mind running three directions at once, ladies." They turned to give me quizzical looks. "But a massage might be a good idea." I started skating by them, and then turned to skate backward for awhile while talking to them. "Tell you what: the first of you three to finish the run can come to my office at four this afternoon, and I'll give you a full body massage." I turned back around and started skating a little faster, then looked over my shoulder. They had all but stopped, conferring with each other. I stopped and turned around, holding my hands out in confusion. "What? None of you want a massage?"

They conferred once more, and then one of them called out, "Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious!"

They exchanged a quick look and then one of them took off toward me like a bolt, with the other two following close behind, laughing. I turned and started skating at speed.

Before long I caught up with Jessica and her friend. "Miss Hale; Mister Reynolds," I greeted as I passed. The last three girls were catching up with them, and they all picked up their pace considerably. That's the spirit, I thought. Before long, I was catching up with the boys, each of whom started to run faster when he saw the hoard closing in on him from behind.

At the end of the three miles, the kids all fell in exhausted as they arrived. I skated in circles until the last arrived and then I stopped in front of them all.

"That," I said, with a pause that would make David Caruso proud, "was a morning run."

Lauren Booth, a cute blonde junior who was the first of the racing girls to finish, was bent over panting, but she mustered the energy to look at the other two and raise her hand with the declaration, "I get the booty call."

Another of the racers howled in protest. "O-O-OH! Coach James, I don't know if Lauren has a thing for you or what, but girlfriend was elbowing her way through everyone!" Tanya Ryan, a statuesque black girl, pantomimed Lauren elbowing by people.

"Shut up, you bitch!" Lauren shouted, laughing.

The third racer, Marsha Page, a thin redhead, claimed, "Well, I could have won easily, but seeing how hard up these two were, I didn't think it would be right."

With that, the other two started lighting into Marsha. I didn't catch it all, but apparently there were very specific reasons why Marsha would not be as hard up as the other two, and it was suggested that an additional lubricating moisture had helped Lauren move her legs so fast.

I skated over to Jessica. "Drop by my office after you're done showering," I told her.

She arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure you won't be otherwise engaged?"

I smiled at her and skated away.

* * * * * * *

I was coming back from talking with coach Landry when I found Jessica Hale at my desk, looking through, as I later found out, her own file.

"Hi, Jess," I said, reflexively closing the door behind myself, but after a second thought leaving it wide open. She wasn't as made up as she'd been the day before, but she was wearing a tight sleeveless knit shirt to good advantage.

She looked up at me and leaned back. "You seem to be making new friends."

I gave here a wry look. "You can't have too many friends."

She was sitting in my desk chair, so I grabbed the spare chair from in front of my desk and swung it around beside her, indicating that she should move. "I demand the respect that my age and infirmity require."

She scooted over with exaggerated sloth. "With the pace you seem to be setting, you might age awfully quickly."

I smirked at her. "And what a shame that would be, seeing as how you like your men so young."

With that, her mouth fell agape and she punched me in the shoulder. "Shut up! I was just being nice to him!"

I laughed. "Okay, Jess. Let's get down to business."

"Hold on," she insisted. "What's this about giving Lauren a massage?"

"What about it? It's nothing."

"A 'full body massage,' as I understand it."

"Yes." She gave me an incredulous look. "This may come as a surprise to you, Miss Hale, but I have quite a bit of training in physical therapy. Part of that is giving massages, NON-SEXUAL massages, I guess I need to make clear. If you behave yourself, I might give you one, one day."

"Mmmm. Now you're talking my language. Except for that 'non-sexual' part." She smiled at me, wickedly.

I shook my head and sighed, pulling myself in closer to the desk and leaning over her time charts. "Can we get to work here?"

She scooted herself in next to me. "I'm all about getting to work." She leaned over to look at the charts, too, putting her hand on the inside of my upper thigh as she did (I was wearing shorts). I was about to protest, but decided against it, shaking my head with an exasperated sigh.

"Okay, the bad news is, your time in the mile yesterday was way off. I looked over all of the times Bill had for you for the past three years, and yesterday was your worst time since the middle of your sophomore year." I looked over at her to see what her reaction was, half expecting that she'd be horrified, but she didn't seem to be bothered at all.

I continued. "Jess, have you, um ..." What I needed to ask was if she had put on any weight over the last year, but that clearly was not the way to ask it. "Have you ... filled out in the last year?" I used my hands to emphasize what I was saying, and immediately regretted it as I realized how suggestive it was.

She extended the little finger of her hand on my thigh up higher on my leg and gave me a light scratch that made my testicles retract a couple inches, and that made me flinch sharply. She stared me straight in the eyes, our faces inches apart. "Why coach James! I didn't think you'd noticed!"

Just then there was a knock at the doorway. "Coach James?" A tall, skinny, dishwater blonde-haired girl in jeans and a sweatshirt, with a backpack over one shoulder, stood in the doorway. "I'm Rebecca Clark."

I quickly looked down at my crotch to make sure I was safe to stand up, which, thankfully, I was. I stood up. "Come in, Miss Clark. I hope everything is all right -- you had car trouble, I understand?" I walked around my desk to shake her hand and to offer her the third chair in the room.

"Yeah, everything's fine now, thanks." She set her backpack down and sat in the chair. I introduced her to Jessica, who really turned on the charm and made her feel welcome, and I gave her a copy of our training and meet schedule. Between Jessica and me, we made sure that she was settling in okay, and then we sent her on her way after twenty minutes.

We were both standing in front of the desk at this point. "Isn't she cute?" Jessica said.

And she was cute. But it wouldn't be much fun simply to agree, so instead I turned to Jessica with a smirk and said, "Was she? I didn't notice."

Jessica gasped in surprise and started punching me in the shoulder again, laughing. "'I didn't notice,'" she mocked. "You perv!"

I defended myself half-heartedly. "Easy, Jess. I have to give a massage this afternoon, remember!" The attack redoubled until, ducking her blows, I grabbed Jess around the waist and pressed myself up against her and her up against my desk.

I held her like that, face to face, for a long moment, before declaring, "This feels awfully nice." Jessica tilted her head back and stretched her neck, bringing her lips to mine. I kissed her lightly, but then broke away. "The door's open."

Jessica was flushed and breathing heavily, her breast rising and falling. A look of determination fell upon her face, and she grabbed my hand and led me out into the hall. "Come with me."

I wasn't sure where we were going; wasn't sure if I was comfortable with the whole thing. But she led me to one of the trainer's rooms and declared, "I'll be damned if you're going to give Lauren Booth a massage before you give me one." With that, she pulled her shirt off over her head (she was wearing a sport bra underneath) and quickly unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it, throwing both articles of clothing aside and wrapping her waist in one of the towels stacked in the room for just that purpose. Grabbing my hand again, she led me to one of the massage tables, which she climbed onto, laying face down. "Go!" she almost shouted. She was frantic.

I started rubbing her shoulders. "Jess," I said. "Non-sexual."

She tensed up. "Relax," I told her. She couldn't. After about five minutes of trying unsuccessfully to massage the tension from her shoulders, I gave my fingers a break. She rolled over onto her side, facing me and propping her head up with her elbow.

"Coach James?"

"Yeah, Jess?"

"Are you ever going to fuck me?"

"Huh. You get right to the point."

"Stop. Just tell me."

I pulled a chair up next to the massage table and sat in it, so that we could be face to face.

"Jess, can you answer a few questions for me first, honestly?"

"That depends ..."

"Try?"

"Okay."

"How many of the guys on the track team have you had sex with?"

She froze for a moment. "Do you mean the whole track team or just the distance runners?"

"Would it be accurate to say, 'most of them,' in either case?"

She started to sit up. "Look, if you're going to judge me ..."

I held her arm. "I'm not judging you. Have you had sex with more than one of them at a time?"

She twisted her arm away from me and sat up. I stood up and grabbed her around the shoulders, holding her close to me. She tried to twist away.

"How many of the girls on the track team have you had sex with?"

"STOP IT! Let me go!"

I released her. She jumped from the table and started collecting her clothes.

"Jess, it doesn't bother me. It's just that ... are you listening to me, Jess?"

"NO!" She had dropped her towel to the floor and was pulling her skirt on. She was crying.

"Well, in case at some level you are listening, Jess, it's just that sex seems to be completely routine for you."

"WHERE THE FUCK IS MY OTHER SHOE?"

I bent over and found her shoe partially covered by the towel she'd just dropped. She tried to grab it out of my hand, but I kept it out of her reach for a second.

"The sexiest thing for you might be no sex at all." I handed her the shoe.

"FUCK YOU!" She slipped the shoe on and was gone.

Another satisfied customer, I thought to myself.

* * * * * * *

Several hours later, Lauren came by my office for her massage. Normally, I would have flirted with her throughout it, but my heart just wasn't into it. Still, I have a lot of training in physical therapy: I give a good massage.