Coach Mac and the HBCU

Hello all! Hopefully, this finds everyone safe and sound. i really hope you enjoy this story. it's complete fantasy and it happens in a land of make believe, where there exists no sexually transmitted diseases, and folks can fall in love rather quickly and easily. An HBCU is short for A Historically Black College or University. Some of my "facts" may not be so, and i may get a few things wrong regarding certain elements in the story, but im hoping you'll enjoy it in spite of.. im always good with healthy criticism so feel free to send it my way, but if you like what you read, please let me know that as well.

One year ago.

The meeting was to be held at a dockside dive bar called O'malleys. The notorious longshoreman watering hole had been around since the 1940's, back when the Irish mob controlled Local 2885 with an iron fist. Back then, would be ship unloaders had to go through the local's mobbed up business agent if they wanted to find work on Seaport Blvd.

Discretion was a prerequisite that all his clients required and this one that he was meeting today would be no different. The job wouldn't be an easy one. In fact, they rarely are. But his success record at solving tough cases was the thing that kept his calendar full and his bank account solvent.

Their meeting was set for 3pm. She arrived ten minutes early. He liked that. He liked clients that valued time. These were the types who always paid when they were supposed to.

When she walked in, time seemed to stop. At first, he mistook her for Kron Moore, the actress from a BET sitcom called The Oval. She strode confidently across the room to where he sat. He stood and motioned for her to take a seat.

After a perfunctory greeting, they quickly got down to business.

"Not only will this be tough, but it's going to be quite costly." He explains to his proposed client.

"Money isn't an object Mr. Curtis. As for the case being difficult, I do believe that I've heard that you're the best there is at what you do."

"I didn't figure you for a Wolverine fan." The now identified "Mr. Curtis" said.

"I'm not. I'm a Hugh Jackman fan. I'm also a very busy woman, now, can I count on you to get this done?"

"What makes you so sure that he's anywhere in this vicinity?"

"He's here Mr. Curtis. I can fee it in my bones."

"Anything more substantive?"

"I believe that's why you get paid the big money."

"And I think it's time I earned it. If I discover anything noteworthy, you'll be the first to know." Curtis said as he stood to let his newest client know that it was time for them to adjourn their meeting.

As he watched her drive off, it suddenly occurred to him where he knew her from. He had indeed seen her on BET before, just on slightly different programming.

Private Detective Jack Curtis chuckled lightly. This had the potential to go from a simple search and location, to a scandal of "biblical proportions."

Coach Mac and the HBCU

"Anyone ever tell you how absolutely breathtakingly beautiful you are?" Coach Raymond McNamara said as he slowly shoved his cock into the 24 year old ebony grad student laying on his desk with one of her feet on his cheek and the other pushed up against his chest as her tits bounced back and forth with each thrust.

"Umm, this massive white dick of yours is balls deep inside of me. You don't have to try and talk a sister out of her clothes at this point Coach Mac." She said in reply.

"I mean it." He grunted as he tried to slow his strokes in order to savor the experience. "You look just like Mone Divine."

"Who?" She asked as she once again creamed all over his cock.

"This really pretty black adult film star."

"Trying too hard." She tells him. "I've been at Carver University for seven years now. You've never paid me compliments like this prior."

"Read the room, Yolanda. Things have definitely changed."

"Tell me about it." She said breathlessly as she scooted her booty away from the desk edge. "I'm getting my back blown out by the sexy white baseball coach at a predominantly black college."

"I didn't figure that you were into white guys."

"I'm not, this is strictly business..." She said as she placed her palm against his stomach to slow his strokes. "But, let's be honest here, business or not, It's not everyday that you get to take dick from a man who is as pretty as George Michaels."

"George Michaels the singer from Wham? Now who's full of it?"

"I'm serious Coach Mac, you are the consummate pretty boy."

"Speaking of being full of it." Coach Mac said. "You are on the pill, aren't you?"

Before Yolanda could answer, the 34 year old head baseball coach and former major league ace pitcher showed just what he was "full of" as he released what must have felt like a gallon of hot semen into the birth canal of his latest Nubian conquest.

He yelled so loudly in ecstasy that he made Yolanda "Yo-yo" Washington cum forcefully once again herself.

After the aftershocks subsided in both of them, Coach Mac extracted his cum drained cock out of Yolanda's cream pied vagina. He then backed up until he landed against a wall a few feet from his desk.

He watched Yolanda slowly climb off of his desk. He marveled at her freshly fucked body. The 5ft 4 coed boasted a 40 inch ass, 28 inch waist, and 38 DD breast. She slipped her feet back into her platformed rubber soled flip flops as she searched around the room for her clothing.

Coach Mac looked up at the ceiling as if offering "thanks" and simply said to himself, "damn I love my job."

"Have you seen my panties?" Yolanda said as she bent over to retrieve her skintight volleyball shorts.

"You weren't wearing any panties when you came in."

"How could I forget?" She said while smiling. "By the way, the answer is no."

"No?" He said as he slipped back into his own undergarments. "No, meaning what?"

"No, meaning that I'm not on the pill."

"Jesus girl! Are you crazy? I'm a married man."

She chuckled at him. "Ok, "married man", had I walked into your office, pulled off my clothes, hopped onto your desk and spread my legs, and then said, "by the way Coach Mac, I'm not on the pill".

Would that have stopped anything that transpired over the last forty five minutes?"

"Just get the Plan B, ok?"

"Way ahead of you. My baby Alonzo is vey understanding, but somehow, I doubt he'd understand my popping out a biracial infant."

"Vert smart. And this is why you'll soon be known as Dr. Yolanda Washington, PHD." He says as he tries to press his mouth against hers, but she rebuffs him.

"What the hell?" He asked.

"Coach, I told you at the beginning, no kissing. We aren't in a relationship, and I'm not trying to be your next side piece. This is a business arrangement. And speaking of Alonzo, you are going to fulfill your side of this arrangement, aren't you?"

"When we play last year's Division One College World Series Champion Arizona on ESPN this Saturday, Alonzo Wells will be my starting pitcher."

"And you'll leave him in for at least five innings."

"That's our agreement."

"And when these major league scouts see him shut out this rich white university, that will be his ticket to the bigtime, and I'll be right beside him as Dr. Yolanda Washington-Wells when he signs his deal."

"Sound plan." Coach Mac says somewhat sarcastically.

"Raymond McNamara! Do you honestly see me as some gold digging groupie? Alonzo could flip burgers at Jack in the Box, and I'd still be proud to walk down the aisle with him.

I took his virginity the minute he set foot on campus as a freshman, and that was before I knew who he really was, or what he could really do. It just so happens that he's a hell of a pitcher and I love him enough to do anything to see that his dream comes true."

Coach Mac looked at Yolanda thoughtfully. He wanted to tell her that he was wrong. She really looked more like Lalia Ali, than Mone Divine, but he felt that she felt that he had already bullshitted her enough for one day, even though he would have really meant it.

He didn't doubt her love for underclassman beau. Alonzo was a very bright kid so he didn't think she was having to fuck any of his other professors just to keep him eligible to play ball, although; he was certain that she would have done so had the need arose.

If only she knew how redundant her efforts were today. Alonzo Wells was one of the best pitchers he had ever seen. He had the velocity of a Randy Johnson, he was as nasty as a young Greg Maddux, all rolled into the body of Pedro Martinez.

Why in the hell would she have any doubts of him already being penciled in as the starter for a game of this magnitude?

Suddenly, he thinks that he may know a way that she can unwittingly help him as well.

"What are you doing Friday night?" He asked her.

"Nothing. Considering that Alonzo will be on the curfew that you impose on your players before the game."

"Meet me here at around 7:00 pm Friday. Dress sexy."

"Ooooh Kay. And I'm doing this, why?" She asked.

He smiled. "I think I might know a way that we can also eke out a win over that "rich white school."

Chapter two: two hours later.

"Whose pussy is this?" Alonzo grunted as he slammed his dick in and out of Yolanda with rhythmic precision as they fucked inside of her one-bedroom off campus apartment.

"It's yours, baby! It's always going to be your pussy." She yelled out, right before they kissed deeply.

"I love you." He said to her after their lips came apart."

He didn't realize it, but his lover was fighting back tears. These weren't borne out of feelings of guilt over what she had done hours earlier, not at all.

She'd fuck the entire male faculty if it meant either protecting or promoting her baby "Zo".

When the two of them were alone, she'd often refer to herself as "mama". She'd say things to him like, "mama fixed your favorite meal tonight" or, "mama is going to make good love to her baby".

It wasn't driven by incestuous thoughts of any kind though, she simply saw herself as his protector. Much in the same way that it was said that Nancy Regan protected her husband Ronald.

She recalls vividly the first day she met him. Her as a senior, a leader in her sorority. A majorette as well as a girls softball standout and lastly, voted "most beautiful" three years running at the time. She was essentially the "Big Woman on Campus".

And here he was, a timid freshman, not sure of where to go or what to do next; just trying to find the science building and math lab. He didn't even realize how handsome he was. He was tall, 6 foot 4, chiseled, and at times, depending on how he was dressed, she couldn't tell if he resembled the actor Boris Kodjoe, or The Rock.

Once she found out that he was a virgin, she couldn't keep her panties on! He disclosed that information to her as they sat in the campus coffee house after she had given him a personal day one tour of the college and she had told him to "watch out for the fast ass freshman girls".

They fucked on the floor of her apartment often. He liked fucking her on the floor. The ground was unyielding, unlike in a bed. She had to take all his ten inches with nowhere to run.

But she had also been his teacher. She taught him how to slow down, "experience the experience"; "enjoy the journey, don't focus on just getting to the destination", she would tell him.

She liked that he came from a good family. His mother was a partner in a top law firm in the city. His father was a Colonel in the US Army; both themselves graduates from Carver University, where they met and subsequently married.

"You ready mama?" He asked her.

"You know I am my love. Mama is always ready. Let's do like the Beatles say in their song and "cum together."

The two unleash their passion simultaneously. Alonzo's entire body quivers as his seed slowly and forcefully exits his body and enters Yolanda's.

This time, she let's the tears flow. Her entire body convulses in ecstasy. She felt like the luckiest woman on earth. In a few months, she'd soon have her doctorate in philosophy, and her soon to be husband would be a major league baseball player who was completely devoted to her, in body and in soul.

The fact that he'd also soon be a multimillionaire didn't hurt either...

"That was amazing." She declared as he rolled off top of her onto his back. "But you may need to save some of that strength for Saturday."

"Aw. Baby. We both know that he's going to put Chase on the mound on Saturday."

Chase Wilcox was the "two" in the one two combination that was himself and Alonzo on the Carver University baseball team. The two pitchers have led Carver to three SWAC world series titles in three years.

Chase is also one of maybe twenty total Caucasian students at the Historically Black College and Alonzo tends to, without evidence to support his theory, say that Coach Mac favors Wilcox over himself.

"You mean to tell me that Coach Mac hasn't told you that you're starting Saturday?" Yolanda asked, with pure shock in her voice.

"I haven't heard a mumbling word from coach all day."

"You'd better not fuck me Coach Mac." Yolanda said to herself, almost chuckling out loud at the sheer irony of her statement.

At that exact moment. Alonzo's phone buzzes with a text message. Yolanda grabs it and reads it before he can get to it.

She puts the phone down and smiles.

"Who was it? What did they say?" Alonzo asked.

"That was Coach Mac."

"And?" He asked impatiently.

"Get your arm loose for Saturday. You have some division one college ass to kick."

Chapter Three: Friday Afternoon

"Don't be like this Pete." Coach Mac said into the phone.

"Don't be like this Pete?" Arizona Baseball coach Peter Kennedy said in reply. "You are impossible Raymond. Absolutely impossible. Every time you call me, it's to reach out for a favor.

Nothing's changed with you since we were in Triple A together."

"The favors are all one sided? Who was it, that took the rap for you when the performance enhancers were found in your locker?" Coach Mac asked.

"And you've been using that card ever since. "Hey Pete, loan me 50 k with no points. Hey Pete, put us on schedule for a pre-season matchup to let people know that Carver is on the map. And now you're asking me to throw the game? Lose to a division two school? Are you insane?"

"One lost won't mean shit for your guys. It's preseason. Just sit your best hitter and..."

"Just sit my best hitter! You and your bullshit."

"What if I make it worth your while?"

"How?"

"Stop by later on and find out."

"I have a question, Raymond."

"What is it?"

"Alonzo Wells is arguably the best college baseball player in the country. How the hell did you convince him to come to Carver?"

"Convince him? His parents are alumni. Legacy and all that shit."

"I would have sacrificed my left nut to sign that kid." Peter Kennedy admits.

"That's why I love my job." Coach Mac said.

"Lie to me if you like, but not to yourself Raymond. You've been a black pussy hound since I've known you. That's why you took the job at Carver. I could offer you a job right now on my staff as a pitching coach making three times what you make now and you'd still tell me to fuck off. It makes me wonder why you even married a white girl like Amy."

"Meet me around 7pm and you'll see exactly why all the money in the world couldn't make me leave Carver U." Coach Mac replied with a satisfied smile.

On the other side of the campus, a class has just ended. A class taught by 39 year old Dr. Janet Ross-Henry. But this wasn't "English 101" or college Algebra.

Inside of this classroom, they discussed Socrates, Plato, epistemology, logical fallacies, utilitarianism, critical thinking, etc...

This was a class for doctorate candidates, and this was Yolanda's last class of the day.

"Ms. Washington don't rush off. I'd like a word."

"Sure thing Dr. Henry. What's up?"

"Come, take a walk with me."

The two women take the winding pathway that leads to "The Yard". The Yard was the area where everyone congregated after classes. On a nice sunny, yet mild day, you'd find underclassmen throwing frisbees or arguing politics or lovers sitting on blankets just watching the sun slowly set overhead.

Dr. Ross-Henry, like Yolanda was extremely popular with the student body and everyone knew and greeted them as they passed.

"It's so hard to believe that in a few months, this will all be over for me. At times, it's a bit overwhelming. Carter U has been my home for so many years. It's going to feel weird waking up and not going to class, or teaching. But, I suppose all things end sooner or later." Yolanda said.

"That's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about." Dr. Henry said.

"Sounds ominous. What's on your mind Janet?"

The two had the type of relationship where, when alone, formalities were not so crucial. In class it was "Dr. Henry and Ms. Washington", but one on one they were simply Janet and Yolanda.

"I want to talk to you about your future." Janet told her.

"My future? What about it?"

Janet sighed. "You're easily the best student I've ever had. The best debater I've ever witnessed. When I listen to you paraphrase Hume, I feel like I'm on cloud nine."

Suddenly, she stops and turns to face Yolanda. "Sister, you're much too smart to limit yourself to being Coach Mac's bed wench."

A look of utter disbelief forms on the face of Yolanda. How much did this woman know and when did she know it?

"Uh, Janet, I'm not sure where you're getting your information from, but I can assure you that..."

"I heard the two of you Wednesday, in his office. He was fucking you on his desk. Don't feel too bad though. You aren't the first young sister that I've had to talk off the ledge after being taken in by those icy blue eyes of his."

"Fucking." Yolanda repeated. "Strong language for a pastor's wife. I've watched you pray on TV and in person in the pews, standing beside your husband, and I've never heard you speak like that."

"I don't do so normally." Janet replied. "But I'm trying to get you to see that Coach Raymond McNamara is bad news."

"Speaking of preachers..." Yolanda said. "This reminds me of a joke that I once heard. There was a deacon of a very prominent church who was in a strip club throwing dollars at the stage on a Saturday night.

The next day, after the church, the pastor calls him aside and says, "Hey Deke, I saw you in the strip club last night, what in the hell was you doing there"?

The deacon looks back at his pastor and says, "You saw me? Hell Rev, what the Hell were YOU doing there?"

"Your point Yolanda?"

"Why were YOU coming to Coach Mac's office Janet? Especially considering that he's such bad news and all. I mean, surely a married pro black militant sister such as yourself isn't "swirling on the cool" are you? Well, don't worry, I didn't take it all. He still has plenty dick left."

"Little girl, you are way out of line right now."

"Little girl? Oh, it's like that now? Ok, Doctor. I'll tell you this and then I'm done. Who I do, or don't spread my legs for is none of your fucking business. I don't try to tell you how to teach, don't tell me who I can or can't screw."

"What about Alonzo?"

"What about him?"

"What happens if he finds out?"

"You tell him and I'll kill you."

"I'm sure you would. But it begs he question, if you love Alonzo so much, why are you risking your relationship with him for something that has zero chance of going anywhere?

Coach Mac likes to fuck black women. But he for sure isn't about to leave his wife for one."

"Jesus fucking Christ Janet! Do you really think I want to marry Coach Mac? I'm doing this to help Alonzo."

"Dead Calm."

"Excuse me?" Yolanda said.

"Never seen it? It came out in 1989. Billy Zane and Nicole Kidman. I'll give you the cliff notes version. In order to keep Billy Zane's character from killing her husband, Nicole's character, Rae, distracted him by giving him some pussy. There's a lot more to the movie than that, but the bottom line was, Rae did what she felt that she had to do in order to save the life of her husband, the man she really loved; hell she even pretended to like it."