Team Mates

"About her sexuality?"

"God, yes." He scrubbed his face with his hands, trying not to feel like a pervert, though he was damned if he could figure out what the hell he was supposed to feel embarrassed about. "Do any of the other girls...do they treat Tabitha differently? Harass her? Give her a rough time?"

"One or two might, if they thought they could get away with it. Heather, for one. She's made some bitchy remarks. Maybe Claudia, too. Her parents are into that fundamentalist religious bullcrap. But they know if they tried they'd have Stacie to deal with."

"Oh, yes, the twin terrors of Roosevelt High," Alan smiled. Even he, insulated as he was from teenage gossip by his teaching position, knew the weight the two girls threw around in the social hierarchy of the school. Beautiful, smart, and popular, they could make or break someone just by trying. Luckily enough, however, neither seemed to be terribly interested in the sort of petty power game many kids their age enjoyed. He eyed the lines of girls, which seemed to be moving slower. "I think we've got them wore out, Lindsey. Let's move to the next drill."

*****

The next few days went well, as far as Alan could tell. When he wasn't teaching or grading papers, he spent all his time researching volleyball and implementing new drills. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he could see improvement from several players.

His main problem, however, came from an unexpected direction. He had never imagined the effect of watching fifteen young women, all of them spectacularly fit, on his libido. After the first practice, he had started masturbating as soon as school ended, so he didn't end up sporting an erection while trying to coach the team.

Added to that was the knowledge that at least one of the girls on his team was bisexual. Tabitha Harrington was one of the most attractive girls in school, and had already played a walk-on role in some of Alan's midnight fantasies. He had been without a partner for months, and he could not help but wonder if she had a female lover. During a few distracted moments his fertile imagination had paired Tabby with some of the other girls on the team, watching them as they stripped their clothes off and pleasured each other.

Sick, Alan, he thought. You're just sick. Find someone your own age. You're not a teenager anymore, so cut out the schoolgirl fantasies.

Blinking, he drew himself back into the present. It was Thursday afternoon, and they were having their last practice before their match against Ames West. Blowing on the whistle, he drew the girls into a huddle.

"Okay, we've got a new drill today," he said, ignoring the groans around him. "Right now, our back line is awful," he said. "We need to get better at fielding the ball when the other team spikes it. So I've brought these." He gestured to one side of the gym, where a pile of wrestling mats was waiting.

"We're going to use these so we don't hurt ourselves today."

"What are we going to do, wrestle?" Rachel Adams asked snidely.

"Tabitha might like that," Claudia Schumaker said, and a few girls giggled.

Alan's light blue eyes grew cold as ice. "One more remark like that, Claudia, and you're going home early." He watched the sophomore girl until she dropped her eyes. "Twenty laps around the gym. Now."

Claudia gasped and looked around, but found no support from her teammates. "But Mr. Walton-"

"Mr. Walton isn't your coach anymore. I am. Twenty laps. Now." He waited until Claudia slouched to the side of the gym and started running.

"All right, let's get these mats out by the net," Alan said. "Lindsey, get up on that ladder." When everything was arranged to his satisfaction, he turned to the team.

"The problem, girls, is that you're afraid of hurting yourself. I understand. It isn't easy throwing yourself down on a hard gym floor to try to save a point. But that's what we're going to do. And I'm going to show you.

"Lindsey is going to throw the ball down towards the mat. My job is to save it." Moving gracefully, he flexed his knees and moved into position. He nodded up at the ladder. "Whenever you're ready, Lindsey."

The small girl raised her arm and threw the ball as hard as she could at the mat in front of Mr. Glassman. Instantly he exploded into motion, diving to the floor, his arms locked in front of him. Before the ball could touch the mat, he knocked it upward in a slow, gentle arc, an easy ball for anyone to play.

"Again." The result was the same.

And again.

Standing beside Tabby, Stacie could barely contain her lust. First Mr. Glassman punished someone who had mocked her girlfriend. Now he was showing off his gorgeous body right in front of her! Her teeth bit her lower lip as she watched his sexy ass flex inside his loose sweatpants. With fiery eyes, she drank in his corded arms, his strong legs. After a few minutes, his brown hair was stuck to his forehead in sweaty spikes, and she wanted nothing more than to peel off his clothes and drag him into the showers with her.

"Calm down, girl," came a soft, sultry voice from her side. Glancing over, she saw Tabby eying her with amusement. "If you don't slow down your breathing you're going to hyperventilate and pass right out."

"Is it that obvious?"

"What do you think?" Tabby smirked, dropping her eyes to look at Stacie's breasts. Even through her sports bra and her practice jersey, the outlines of her erect nipples could be easily seen.

"Shit," she breathed. Luckily for her, Mr. Glassman chose to end the demonstration at that moment.

"That was with no knee or elbow-pads," he said, breathing deeply. "And you girls know technique way better than I do. If I can do this, so can you. You're not going to get hurt.

"All right," he continued. "Split into two groups. Lindsey will run one side, I'll do the other. Everyone gets ten tries, then go shag balls so the next person in line can go." He tweeted his whistle and clapped his hands. "Let's go!"

*****

"Mr. Glassman?"

He looked up from his notes in the small coach's office next to the locker room. The practice had gone well, and he was thinking about making another change to the starting lineup. Consuela Barton, a tiny Filipina girl who had been adopted and brought to America by her childless parents, had thrown her body around with reckless abandon. Alan thought she might replace one of the girls on the back line.

Tabitha Harrington stood in the doorway, Stacie Reynolds looking over her shoulder.

"What can I do for you, Tabby?" He stood up, then frowned. "I thought everyone had left."

Tabby nodded. "We waited until everyone else was gone," she said. "I didn't want anyone to hear what I had to say to you.

"I wanted to thank you," she said, voice trembling a little. "No teacher has ever stood up for me like you did today. Mr. Walton certainly wouldn't have."

Alan sat on the edge of his desk, putting his eyes nearly level with the redhead. "Well, I can't speak for the rest of the staff. A lot of them are old and set in their ways."

"More like fossilized," said Stacie from her position in the doorway.

"But I won't let anyone use your...your sexual orientation as a way to mock you, any more than I would let someone make racist remarks about Jasmine or Consuela."

"I know you won't," said Tabitha. She took another step into the room, then paused for a moment. Alan regretted the fact that his lower body was exposed. Despite jacking off less than two hours before, his cock felt swollen and heavy inside the soft cloth of his sweatpants, ready to surge erect at the slightest provocation.

That's all you need. To get an erection and for these two to see it and report you. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to think of an excuse to quickly usher the two beautiful girls out of his office.

Suddenly, Tabby moved to his side and hugged him. He could feel her breasts pressing against his arm and her muscled legs were warm at his side. Before he could react she had raised her face and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered, her dark blue eyes shining. "I mean it."

Alan cleared his throat nervously. "Tabby, I appreciate your....gratitude, but this isn't really appropriate," he stammered.

"I understand," she said softly, backing away. Although her voice was contrite, he thought he could detect the hint of a smirk in the curve of her lips.

Before he could say anything else, Stacie had entered the office, which was becoming distinctly crowded.

"It's really not fair," she remarked. "I'm the one who has the hots for you, so why does she get to kiss you first?" Shouldering Tabby aside, she stepped into the vee of Alan's sitting legs, so close he could feel her small, exquisitely formed breasts through the cloth separating them. Leaning forward, she kissed him flush on the mouth, moaning softly. Her mouth opened quickly, her tongue swiping across his lips, as if she was sampling how he tasted.

Unable to respond, Alan blinked as she pulled away slightly. Gasping, he realized she had one of her hands wrapped around his throbbing cock and was softly pumping it.

"I knew it," she said in tones of complete satisfaction. "It's a big one. See, Tabby?"

Tabby nodded her appreciation. "Very nice. But I don't think Mr. Glassman approves of what you're doing."

Alan came to his senses, almost panicking. "You have to leave," he hissed. "Now. If someone saw this I'd be fired, and no school district would ever hire me again."

Stacie opened her mouth, but Alan cut her off. Gently, but firmly, he removed her hand from his shaft. "You're putting my entire future at risk, Stacie. Please stop.

"Go home. This never happened."

*****

After Tabby and Stacie left, Alan stumbled into the boys' locker room. Thanking whatever deities might be watching over him that he had been able to withstand the animal magnetism of the sexy young brunette, he pulled down his sweatpants, exposing his raging erection to the cool, damp air.

God, it's too much. He braced one hand against a sink, the other already desperately stroking his hardness. His thumb smeared pre-come over his sensitive glans, and his knees nearly buckled with pleasure. In his mind he was reliving those too-few seconds when Stacie's slim, nubile body had been pressed against his, her small breasts touching his chest, her hot mouth, firm and eager, on his lips.

How had he been able to push her away? God, her hand had been on his cock! Closing his eyes, he could remember the feel of her fingers, so gentle and loving, as she slowly pumped him, bringing him to the edge of climax with terrifying speed. Did she know how close he had been? How close he had been to creaming his pants like an adolescent?

He knew he should leave. Should at least hide himself in one of the toilet stalls and finish there. But his slickened fist was flying up and down the length of his phallus, and he could feel the familiar signs as his body readied itself for orgasm. His testes crept higher, the muscles of his cock tensed, and then, with a harsh groan, he emptied himself into the cold, unfeeling sink, spurts of his cum shooting onto the clean white porcelain.

Face burning with guilt, he quickly washed his hands and pulled paper towels out of the holder to clean his shaft. When he was done, he ran water down the sink, trying to wash away the signs of his shame. Taking a deep breath, he regarded his image in the cloudy mirror.

"Never again, you idiot."

*****

"Oh, God, that was hot," Stacie moaned, as Tabitha drove her home. Her legs were spread wide in the passenger seat, and she rubbed her denim-clad crotch with her hand, reliving the moment when she had kissed Mr. Glassman.

"It was," Tabitha agreed. "But you took one heck of a risk, baby. If you don't tone it down, you're going to scare him off."

"Scare him off?" Stacie jeered. "When has a boy ever been scared off by either of us? They're all the same. Grab their cock and show them some tit and they'll go for it. All of them. He's no different."

"You think so?" her lover asked. "You have a pretty low opinion of him if you do. I don't. Who was it who made that bible-thumper Claudia run laps after she made that snotty remark today? When has any teacher done anything for me they didn't have to once I came out of the closet?

"He did. He's different. So don't fuck it up, Stacie. He wants us. Or, at least, he wants me," she dimpled. "I was the one who got him hard, after all. I know you wanted to drag his sweats off and use his cock like a stripper pole tonight, but he could have fucking destroyed you. All he has to do is report you to Tipton and you are fucked. And not in a good way. Do you know what happens to kids who try to seduce their teachers?

"If you are lucky you can transfer to another school. Where everyone will see you as the tramp who tried to sleep with her volleyball coach.

"If you are unlucky..." She trailed off.

Stacie's look turned stubborn and she set her jaw. "I could say he was the one who tried to seduce me."

Tabitha braked for a stoplight, and turned a look of blank disbelief towards her girlfriend. "And that would be better? Now you're talking about destroying his life. And who do you think will back you up? Not me," she said, shaking her head, her red hair shifting on her shoulders. "I love you, but I'm not about to lie for you. Not about something like this."

Stacie groaned, clamping her hand between her thighs, her slick, sticky lips sliding against each other inside her jeans. "But I want him, Tabby. I want him so bad."

"I know you do," her lover said, her voice softly sympathetic. "Trust me, I know all about wanting something that seems unattainable." She reached out and stroked Stacie's cheek softly, the backs of her fingers tracing the curves of her face. "But I got it. And so can you. But you're going to have to do what I did."

Stacie blinked. "Invite him to a slumber party for his birthday and crawl into his sleeping bag after midnight?"

Tabitha blushed, remembering that first, frantic night of love-making. "No, you dope. Make him your ally. Make him realize the benefits outweigh the risks. That he can have you. And maybe me," she continued, drawing a startled look from the tall brunette, "As long as he trusts us to stay quiet. It worked for us. Maybe it will work with Mr. Glassman."

"I think we should call him Mr. Hardman," Stacie giggled. She rested her head on the back of her seat. "God, you should have felt it, Tabby. Long and hard and thick and so, so warm..." She trailed off dreamily.

Despite herself, Tabby smiled. And truth be told, the naked lust in Stacie's eyes was beginning to have an effect on her as well. Mr. Glassman was hot. And seemingly unaware of how his masculine beauty was driving the two of them wild.

She pulled into Stacie's driveway. "We're here."

Stacie sighed. "And no chance of working off any of this horny tonight. The 'rents are both home." Stacie's parents were tolerant of her relationship with Tabitha, but had convinced themselves it was "just a phase". Correspondingly, they would be less than happy to see the two of them run up into Stacie's bedroom for a couple of hours of sexytime.

On the other hand, Tabitha's parents were openly supportive of her. However, they had drawn clear lines about what was acceptable in their house, and having the two of them make love when Tabby's younger brother Harry was around was on the wrong side of those lines.

It was maddening, Stacie thought grumpily, that two women who were legally adults couldn't find any place they could make love, and that they had to wait for the parents of one household to be absent, or for a runty little twerp to be gone from another.

Tabitha leaned over and kissed her, her tongue flicking her lips as one hand rose up to lovingly cup her breast. Stacie moaned into her mouth and arched her back into her touch.

"Just wait, baby," Tabby said, her eyes gleaming wickedly as they reluctantly parted. "Dad's taking Mom to the movies Saturday afternoon, and I am sure I can bribe Harry to leave us alone for a couple of hours. We can have all the private time we want."

In front of them, the porch light flicked on, and Stacie could see her mother's outline in the doorway. "Sounds great," she said, giving Tabby a quick hug. She pulled her bookbag out of the backseat and opened the door. "See you tomorrow. Love you!"

"Love you, too," Tabby whispered, and backed out of the driveway, ready to drive home.

*****

"All right, ladies," Alan said. It was the following night, and the match was set to begin in the next few minutes. He cleared his throat. "Starting lineup is Walters, Harrington, and Reynolds up front, Barton, Schumaker, and Scott in back." He looked at Heather Clark and Rachel Adams. "You're not starting, girls, but don't worry. You're going to get lots of playing time."

Rachel nodded, biting her lip in disappointment, but Heather surged to her feet, eyes bright with outrage. "You're benching me for this...this dyke?"

In the thunderous silence which followed, Jasmine said quietly, "Girl, tell me you didn't just say that."

Tabitha looked straight ahead, not reacting to the hateful words. Alan took a single step forward.

"Heather, you're suspended from this team. Indefinitely. When we take the floor, stay in here and change into street clothes. You can watch the game from the stands. Or you can go home. I will not allow you to insult a teammate like that.

"And that goes for everyone here, you understand me?" he asked, his voice like steel as his eyes swept the room. "Would you use the n-word to Jasmine? Would you mock a teammate because they're catholic and you're a methodist? We are a team. What hurts one of us hurts us all."

"You can't do this!" Heather shouted, hectic spots of color showing red in her cheeks. "You're not a real teacher. You're just a damn substitute. My father is on the school board. He'll have you fired!"

"Heather," Alan said quietly, "If your father can take my job away, I don't want it.

"Lindsey, make sure she's out of the locker room in the next ten minutes. If she isn't, get one of the teachers to escort her out.

"As for the rest of you. Let's go."

Standing together, the fourteen girls of the Theodore Roosevelt High School Girls Volleyball team followed their coach onto the floor.

*****

Still fuming from the scene in the locker room, Alan adjusted his jacket and tie as he walked along the bench. The team was going through their pregame warm-ups, and a scattering of fans sat in the wooden bleachers. Alan didn't know whether to be upset about the lack of support, or grateful that by scheduling the game on a football night, the school had made sure his debut as a coach would be lightly attended. After shaking hands with the opposing coach, he greeted the referees.

"What happened to Jerry?" one asked.

"Came into some money, and from what I hear, he's halfway to Florida by now," Alan smiled. "Listen," he said seriously, "I'm just a temp and what I know about this sport could fit into a thimble. If I say or do anything spectacularly stupid, don't hold it against me, okay?"

Laughing, the referees agreed. The buzzer sounded, and the team huddled on the bench. Alan looked at them seriously.

"Girls, I want you to take a look over there. At the team we're going to be playing." Fourteen sets of eyes swiveled to the opposite bench, where the girls of Ames West bounced around. "I've been watching them. They know they're playing a last-place team. One that's won only one match all year.