Fucking the Slutty Swim Coach

12 Years Later

Mark

I spotted her from the stands at the swim meet, wearing shorts and a polo shirt with the Alto Swim Club logo, her long, dirty-blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. She had a stopwatch around her neck and held a clipboard to her chest.

My heart pounded as I watched her talking and laughing with the other coaches. According to the heat sheet, her team had two swimmers in the finals for the 13-14-year-old boys 50 freestyle, and they were seeded in the lanes on either side of my son, Alex. As the swimmers were announced, I kept my eyes glued to her, waiting to see if she'd have a reaction to hearing his name called.

Sure enough, Sam's attention piqued. She looked from her clipboard to the blocks, tilting her head as she searched Alex's face for signs of familiarity. His goggles would've made recognition difficult, though.

Then she turned to the stands, and her eyes scanned the crowd scrupulously until they finally met mine.

I smiled, raising my hand in a wave.

Her eyes went wide, her mouth gaping with surprise. And a huge smile broke across her face.

Then a whistle blew, drawing Sam's attention back to the pool.

I turned back too, watching Alex take his mark.

It was a quick finish. Alex came in fourth overall, and one of Sam's swimmers broke the top three.

I moved down the stands to congratulate my son on cutting half a second from his best time. Then I made my way over to where Sam's team congregated.

She was talking to a swimmer, so I stood back and waited patiently for her attention.

She called on more swimmers to go warm up, and then noticed me in the stands, just above her spot on the deck.

"Hi!" she laughed. "I can't believe you're here!"

Her eyes scanned over me, and I imagined she must be taking in all the subtle differences, noticing how I'd aged over the past twelve years. My hair had started to gray at the roots, though it was hardly noticeable with my natural blond color. And I'd surely developed some more wrinkles since the last time she saw me.

Of course, Sam had changed, too. She'd grown from a 22-year-old college girl with big boobs into a beautiful woman in her thirties... with big boobs.

"Yeah, small world," I said, laughing to myself.

But there was no surprise on my end. I'd found her LinkedIn profile a while back, with a recent picture and her location. I knew she was living in California, teaching and coaching. Then, when I'd seen on Alex's meet roster that her team was scheduled to be at this invitational event, I made sure I was the one to make the trip while my wife Heather stayed home with our daughter. And I'd been hanging around the pool since the meet started, just hoping to run into her.

"I can't believe that's Alex. And he's still swimming!"

"Yep, he never stopped."

"It shows! He's really good. And you have a good team."

"Yeah. So is yours. National Champs just a few years ago, right?"

"Yeah, 2019," she said, smiling. "Before my time."

I shrugged. "Well, I'm sure it'll only be a matter of time till they get another, then."

She laughed and shrugged, rolling her eyes a little, modestly.

Then a whistle blew for the next event, and Sam looked away, like she'd suddenly remembered we weren't alone.

"I better-"

"Yeah," I agreed. "I'll let you get back to it. But maybe we can meet up for a drink or something later."

"I'd like that," she agreed. "Where are you staying?"

"At the Marriott. What about you?"

"Same," she said. And in her smile, I saw a hint of the same sexy, mischievous girl I'd snuck around with all those years ago.

"Meet you at the bar later? Maybe around 10, after Alex goes to bed."

"Yeah, okay," she agreed.

Then we shared another smile until her attention was finally pulled back to her team.

Sam

I couldn't stop smiling all evening as I anticipated meeting up with Mark. I was flustered and distracted throughout dinner with my team, and the other coaches noticed and teased me for it.

"I guess the humidity is affecting more than just your hair, Sammie!" teased Erica, the other female coach on our team.

The others laughed along.

"There's a bar around the corner that's supposed to have live music," said Zac, one of the male coaches, as our meal wrapped up. "Who's in?"

A few of the others chimed in, eager to continue the night out.

Normally, I would've gone along, but my mind was elsewhere, and I just wanted to go back up to my room to take a shower before getting ready to meet Mark.

"I think I'm gonna call it a night," I said, feigning regret.

"Aw, c'mon, Sam! I need my drinking buddy!" Zac teased, winking.

I bit my lip to hide a smirk, knowing what he had in mind.

Zac and I were normally the last ones standing on nights out with the team, and we'd ended up back in his room or mine on more than one occasion. I always had fun with him, but the overwhelming excitement and desire I'd felt when I saw Mark at the meet earlier still hadn't dissipated, and that was all I could think about.

"Sorry, buddy!" I teased back, playfully punching his arm. "Maybe tomorrow night."

"Your loss!" he said, smirking as he downed the rest of his drink.

So as we all exited the restaurant, I wished the others a fun night and headed the opposite direction, back to the hotel.

"Hang on Sam, I'll walk you back," Zac offered. Then, to the others, he called, "Save me a seat!"

So we left together to a chorus of lewd jokes and whistling sounds.

"I don't think they're expecting me to make it back out tonight," Zac joked once we were alone.

I laughed. "Well, they've learned from experience."

"True," he chuckled. "I have to admit, I was hoping history might repeat itself this weekend."

I smirked and blushed, but shook my head resolutely. "I can't tonight."

Zac waited, giving me a chance to elaborate. But when it became clear I wasn't going to, he finally waved his white flag. "That's fine."

We made somewhat awkward small talk as we walked the last couple of blocks.

"Thanks for walking me," I said as we reached the hotel lobby. "Have a fun night. And don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Not sure I want to know what that would be," he joked.

I laughed too and flipped him off playfully.

He just laughed and waved as I headed to the elevators.

Once I was alone, I sighed and smiled, finally allowing myself to embrace the thoughts about Mark. My clit and nipples tingled in anticipation, and my heart fluttered in my chest, making me feel out of breath.

I took out my phone to check the time, wondering how long I had to get ready. Then I noticed I had a few texts from my husband, Nick.

Nick: Hey babe, how's the meet going?

Sam: Hey :)

Sam: Today went well, we got a few top three finishes

Nick: Congrats :)

Nick: Sounds like some great coaching

Sam: lol

Sam: That must be it

I entered my hotel room and stripped off my clothes right away. Rather than going straight to the shower, I went to the window and opened the curtains. My room had a pool view, and there were several people making use of it, enjoying the warm Florida evening.

There wasn't anyone looking up my way, but exposing myself caused the tingles between my legs to grow stronger.

Then I got another text.

Nick: What are you up to tonight? Hanging out with Zac? ;)

I smiled and typed out a response.

Sam: Just got back from team dinner

Sam: He asked, but I came up alone, about to take a shower

Nick: Oh ok

Nick: Making it an early night, then?

Sam: Maybe not

Sam: I actually ran into Mark at the meet today

Sam: His son is on one of the other teams

Nick: Mark, the guy from Chicago your senior year?

Sam: Yeah

Nick: Wow, small world

Sam: Yeah, I know

Nick: How are you feeling about that?

Sam: I'm not sure

Sam: Excited

Sam: Nervous

Sam: Tingly

Sam: lol

Nick: Haha, that sounds like a fun combo :)

Nick: So you're going to see him tonight?

Even by text, I could infer Nick's casual tone. While running into Mark was a surprise, going out and having fun on trips away from home was not unusual for me. So I felt no qualms about responding honestly.

Sam: Yeah, we're meeting at the bar in a bit :P

Nick: Sounds fun

Nick: I can't wait to hear about what happens :)

Sam: I can't wait to tell you about it :)

Sam: I love you :-*

Nick: Love you, too :-*

Then I finally got in the shower. I set the water temperature as hot as I could stand and took my time soaping myself up, propping one foot up on the edge of the tub as I reached down to clean between my legs. I moaned as I rubbed the cloth over my smooth, shaved pussy.

So many memories flooded my imagination. I could remember the way Mark's hands and mouth felt on me like it was just yesterday. The way he could make me writhe and moan with just a few whispered words in my ear. I missed the way he teased me and how much he wanted me. I missed being his slut.

The friction against my clit felt too good to stop. I let go of the washcloth in favor of continuing with just fingers. Turning to lean back against the cold tiles of the shower wall, I spread my legs a little further and continued touching myself. I pressed in with two fingers and clenched immediately, moaning and grinding on my hand. My nipples tingled, so I rubbed and pinched them lightly.

I imagined Mark coming into the bathroom and catching me touching myself. I could picture the smirk on his face as he'd watch and encourage me.

"Finger that slutty pussy, Sam," he'd say. "Rub your clit faster."

I'd smile back at him, moaning and rubbing as the hot water cascaded down my body. Watching as he'd pull his hard cock out of his pants and stroke it just for me. My mouth watered at the thought. I licked my lips, thinking about how much I wanted him in my mouth. How much I loved the way he'd hold my head, fucking my face. It always turned me on when any guy would do that, but no one else made me feel quite the same way.

"Always such a good slut for me," he'd say, groaning.

I remembered the way he'd always insist on me cumming first. Sometimes he wouldn't even let me touch him or take him in my mouth until after I came at least once.

"Cum for me, Sam!"

I could still hear him ordering me in his sexy, commanding tone. And once again it brought me over the edge, moaning, writhing, and clenching on my fingers just like so many times back then, and over the years since, whenever I thought about him.

I smiled to myself, moaning as my chest heaved with labored breath. I couldn't wait to tell Mark that I'd made myself cum in the shower before meeting him, as I thought about everything I missed from our time together twelve years ago and anticipated all that awaited me that night.

***

Luckily, I'd packed a sexy bra with matching panties. Both were bright pink and silky with a lace trim. Over that, I wore a blue summer dress that was fairly short with a cinched waist, a deep v-cut neckline on top, and short, flutter sleeves. I put on a little makeup; mascara and some lip gloss. And I left my hair down in frizzy waves, which were unavoidable for me in the Florida humidity. Then I slipped on my brown leather sandals and I was ready to go.

It was only 9:30, but I headed down to the bar early, just in case Mark could get away earlier, too.

The hotel bar wasn't very busy. There were just a few others seated at the counter. One couple was still wearing t-shirts from the swim meet, so I guessed they were probably parents enjoying a nightcap sans kids. Or maybe they'd each snuck away from their respective families for a secret rendez-vous, too. That was a fun thought.

I ordered a margarita, wanting to rekindle the slight buzz I'd started at dinner. I took a big sip right away, and the burning sensation from the tequila eased my nerves. Well, not nerves exactly. It was more of an anxious anticipation.

My mind buzzed with questions I wanted to ask. I was so curious about how Mark's life was going that part of me wanted to just sit at the bar all night and listen to anything he might want to tell me. But another equally forceful part of me wanted to skip the talking altogether, just to feel Mark's hands and lips on me, his hard cock pressing into me.

My mind kept going, and I had to squeeze my thighs together to ease the throbbing between my legs.

"Hey there, pretty girl."

I spun around when I heard him and felt my face lighting up. "Hi!"

He sat up on the bar stool next to me, wearing navy blue shorts and a greenish henley style t-shirt with a button-up collar, the top couple of buttons left undone.

I felt mesmerized, my eyes scanning over him like I'd done at the meet earlier, as if trying to settle this new, older Mark with the one in my memory. Or maybe I was just trying to convince myself that he was real, and really sitting there with me.

"You're really here," I said, letting my thoughts slip out a bit.

He smirked and laughed a little. "Am I a few drinks behind?"

"No," I said back, rolling my eyes and blushing. "I just mean, I'm really glad you came."

"Me, too."

We just stared at each other for a moment until the bartender interrupted, and Mark ordered a beer.

After taking a sip, he turned back to me. "Okay, I have to admit something."

"What's that?" I asked, feeling like I couldn't stop smiling even if I tried.

"I knew you'd be here. At the meet, I mean."

I tilted my head to the side with amused confusion. "You did?"

He nodded and took another sip of beer. "I may have come across your LinkedIn page recently. And by that, I might actually mean I searched for you deliberately. And some other searches may have followed."

I started cracking up, loud enough to turn the heads of others in the bar.

"I guess you have me at a disadvantage, then. What do you already know?"

"I know you're living in California now, obviously. Teaching and coaching."

I nodded, taking another sip of margarita.

"Married?" he asked, watching my every move and waiting intently for my answer.

"Yes, married. For four years now."

"He stayed home?"

I nodded again. "For work. And to watch our daughter, Lucy."

Mark's smile seemed to grow even bigger upon hearing that I was a mom. Maybe just matching mine. "Congrats, that's great. I'm really happy for you."

"Yeah, everything's going really well," I said, genuinely. And yet being there with Mark, feeling the electricity between us again, was filling a void inside me I hadn't known was there.

"What about you? What's new in the last twelve years?" I asked, sort of laughing at the absurdity of the question.

Mark took another drink from his beer, shrugging. "Lots of things. Nothing. Things are good overall. We live in the suburbs now. I started a new job at a different company outside of the city. The kids are in middle school. But yeah, I guess other than that, things are mostly the same."

I couldn't tell from his expression whether there was more he was holding back. Was 'mostly the same' a good thing? I wondered about how things were going with his wife, Heather. And, of course, I wondered whether he'd had other affairs over the years, since me. But I resisted the urge to ask, not sure I really wanted to know the answer.

"Want to know what else hasn't changed?" he asked, before I could formulate a follow-up question.

"What?" I asked, smiling.

"I can't stop thinking about what kind of underwear you're wearing under that dress," Mark said, switching gears suddenly. Apparently, he wasn't interested in elaborating on his life.

I smirked back. "Care to guess?"

Mark made a humming, pondering noise as he shifted on his bar stool, leaning towards me slightly and brushing his fingertips over the exposed skin just above my knee.

I gasped and felt a flush creeping up my neck. Without thinking, I turned further toward him on the stool, instinctively leaning into his touch.

He responded by sliding his hand up further until he was playing with the bottom hem of my dress.

"Maybe I'll skip the guesswork and investigate instead."

My body had a Pavlovian response to Mark's words and touch. My chest heaved, my pussy throbbed, and my legs uncrossed and opened slightly, allowing him easy access.

He smirked, taking in all of my reactions, and slid his hand up between my thighs until his fingertips brushed over the already damp, silky fabric of my panties.

"I've missed feeling how wet this pussy gets for me," he whispered, leaning in close to my ear. "Still such a good slut."

His warm breath on my neck caused me to shiver, and my nipples hardened conspicuously through my bra and the thin fabric of my dress.

"Mark..." I moaned.

My neediness only seemed to spur him on. He pressed in harder, rubbing through my underwear.

I gripped his forearm tightly, but couldn't quite bring myself to push back.

"I want you, Sam," he whispered into my ear. "I need to feel you."

I nodded, but firmly pushed on his arm until he retracted his hand. "My room."

We smiled together as we each took a final, big gulp from our drinks, and Mark left payment for his beer.

I smoothed down my dress as I led the way out of the bar, reminding myself not to run.

Mark was right behind me, his hand on my waist, fingers digging into my hip.

As soon as the elevator doors closed behind us, we crashed together, and it was like no time had passed. I moaned into him, combing my fingers into his hair and tugging. I wound my leg around his waist as he backed me up against the side of the elevator. He groaned and squeezed two handfuls of my ass, grinding his hard cock against me through our clothes.

"Fuck, Sam!" Mark grunted, breaking the kiss and leaving us both panting as I slid a hand between our bodies to rub him through his shorts.

The elevator dinged moments later, and we reluctantly pulled away as the doors slid open on my floor, then rushed out and down the carpeted hallway.

Once inside the room, we shed our clothes on the way to the bed and then fell down together, kissing again as we scooted towards the center. I was still struggling to push my underwear down the rest of the way, and Mark helped to peel them off over my feet.

"Cute," he commented, briefly checking out my pink silky panties before discarding them on the floor.

I smiled and moaned as I lay back, kissing him and wrapping myself around him. Then I reached for his cock, stroking and guiding him to enter me right away. I felt desperate to feel him inside me, filling me.

But Mark resisted. I'd only gotten a few strokes in when he pulled my hand away and brought both of my wrists up over my head, pinning them down as he held himself up over me.

I whimpered and moaned, arching and writhing beneath him.

He kissed me deeply and reached for my pussy, brushing his fingertips along my slit. "I love how responding you are."

His words felt like such an understatement as he casually teased me and caused my body to hum and vibrate with need.

"Please, Mark!" I begged, pressing my hips up to feel more of his fingers.

I expected him to just smirk and continue teasing me. But he must've been nearly as desperate as I was, because he gave me exactly what I wanted: more. He slipped two fingers into me with a groan, stroking along the upper front wall of my pussy before pulling back out to rub his moistened fingers over my clit.

"Cum for me, Sam," he said, sensing how close I already was. "Show me how much you want it. Show me you're still my slut!"

I yelled out and arched up into him, my hips grinding, writhing on his fingers that remembered exactly how I needed to be touched.

"Tell me!" he growled, rubbing faster.

"Oh, fuck!" I yelped, more in reaction to the intense pleasure than avoidance of telling him what he wanted to hear.

"Say it!"

"I'm your slut! I'm still your slut! Oh fuck! I'm cumming!"