I Went Skiing

"Don't stop now," he encouraged. "Just keep coming, nice and slow."

I stayed right where I was for a few moments. Still, I didn't really have much choice. I started to press down, feeling him coming into me. He was way too big, I was sure of it, so I moved with a slow trepidation, ready to stop and jump off if it got too much. Bit by bit I sank down, breathing hard, taking my own sweet time. I swear, the time it took me to settle down fully onto him was more time than the entire act has taken at other times. Coach showed admirable restraint in my opinion. I was willing to bet that if I'd been trying this with my boyfriend he would have rolled over with a wild cry and driven frantically home. (Not known for his patience, that lad.)

I finished up straddling Coach with his cock fully inside me, somewhat to my surprise. He was looking up at me, smiling, his hands again on my breasts, rubbing them.

"What am I supposed to do now?" I asked.

"How would I know?" he asked, his smile growing bigger. "You're running the show."

I just sat there, feeling him inside me, hoping that he'd start things moving. The rotten man just lay there, fondling my breasts. I started twisting about, feeling somewhat restless. (Well really, how else would I feel with a giant cock stuck inside me?)

That initial restless movement turned into a rocking motion as I leaned forward and then back, feeling the slow drag of his cock as I moved. It took me a while but it finally dawned on me that Coach was actually helping me, pushing up against me when I rocked forward, relaxing and letting me pull away when I rocked back.

I liked what was happening, much to my surprise. I kept rocking keeping the same slow pace, enjoying the feel of his cock dragging against me. I could put up with more of this I decided, happily rocking in place.

I was flushed and excited but unsure how to advance what we were doing. I guess Coach guessed that as he gave me some advice.

"If you want to do more you're going to have to work out how to slide up and down my erection," he told me cheerfully, just not bothering to tell me how I did that.

It was easy to work out. There are undoubtedly various ways of doing it. What I did was to lie flat on top of him, my breasts crushed against his chest, and start bouncing my hips. Just like that I was sliding up and down his cock, with Coach giving a nice little thrust each time I pushed down onto him.

My arousal was complete and I was heading towards another climax but I saw no reason to hurry there. I bounced along happily, setting my own pace, with Coach seeming quite willing to let me. I reached a point where I knew I could climax at any time I wanted to and that's where I stayed.

If I thought I was getting too close to a climax I slowed down, letting it drop away, picking up the pace again when I wanted to. This was fun and I really wanted to see how long I could keep it up.

I kept it up for a while but not as long as I wanted to. This was because Coach suddenly let out a sound that sounded like a growl, rolled over, taking me under him, and then started humping away as if his life depended on it. It only took a few of those dominating strokes to make me explode, with Coach letting loose with a fire hose inside me moments later. (Thank god for the pill, I thought, as he cut loose.)

Coach departed to check out on his team and I retired to the bathroom for another shower. The big question was going to be who did I avoid in the future? Peter and/or Andrew, or Coach? Peter had his good points, Andrew less so, but Coach was the enigma. Would he want to give me more coaching in this area? It could be interesting if he did. Did I dare suggest that he coach Peter on how to improve his abilities, using me to demonstrate? I giggled at the thought of it.