The Baker's Dozen Ch. 02

In a quiet corner of Zumárraga Prep's campus, away from the throngs of fellow graduates, beaming parents and sullen younger siblings, Paz was sat with her sky-blue polo was pulled up over her breasts while her voracious twin daughters Milagros and Esperanza suckled away.

To spare her glances from would-be voyeurs — or worse, cooing grannies — a group of her erstwhile teammates had formed up around her in a wall, as if anticipating a freekick. Like her, they were also putting off donning the red polyester graduation gowns, sitting shrink-wrapped in a pile beside Paz. Unlike her, all their polos still bulged with imminent offspring.

"Anyone know where Ruti went?" Leocadia wondered aloud, glancing about the quad. "Cutting it kind of fine, ain't she?"

"Didn't she go looking for coach?" said Horacia, bumping bellies with Leocadia as she turned.

"Yeah, something about some keys," said Auxiliadora.

The broad-shouldered Mexican turned to Paz and the pile of gowns.

"She took one of those with her, right?"

The Easter Islander simply nodded. Inside, she was scowling.

Including Marisela herself, thirteen of them had pledged to bear children and raise them as one soccer team. Auxiliadora Antuña had not been among them. Yet there she was, looming over her like she had all year, carrying one of Milagros and Esperanza's many half-siblings. Not that Mari had said anything about Auxi usurping her as goalkeeping coach, but she wasn't hopeful.

"Keys?" asked Tai-Ying at the far end of the wall. "What keys?"

The keys in question were for Rutilia Ruiz's new apartment in the Elephants. At present, they were jangling about on a cord between the Guatemalan's flailing breasts. She'd found her former coach. Now he had her pinned against a support column beneath the bleachers of the school's sports field.

This hadn't been her plan. She'd just wanted to show off her new keys and say a quick thank you. Unlike some of her teammates, she hadn't been back for more after that sweaty August afternoon. They'd wound up taking a stroll away from the madding crowds, taking a peek at the sports field which had undergone its annual transformation into an open-air auditorium.

Then, caught in the moment, Rutilia kissed him. After the third time, he'd kissed her back.

It was more comfortable this time around. Sort of, anyway. She still couldn't touch him, though. Her hands were occupied clinging to the column at her back. Being so deep into her third trimester, she couldn't fully trust his erection and the arms hooked under her knees to keep her airborne.

Biting her lower lip in the name of discretion, Rutilia glanced down at their groins. Even with her plaid skirt out of the way, her protruding belly denied her a view of the six inches of Honduran sliding in and out of her with such gusto.

"You are...sure...Miss Ruiz?" breathed Gregorio between thrusts.

"Worried I'll...get pregnant...coach?"

"You may...leak a little...onstage."

"So...what?" said Rutilia. Her voice climbed an octave as he moved up a gear.

"As you wi—ugh!"

The support column clanged as the nineteen-year-old tossed her head back in response to his pistoning penis. If it had hurt, it didn't register. Her keys and his belt buckle jangled like cowbells as he fired off his climatic fusillade.

Rutilia's breath quavered as he gradually slowed with each rep, finally setting her down on her feet. A little unsteady, she kept one hand on to the column while she pulled her polo down over her hormonally-enhanced breasts. Marisela's dare had saved her a small fortune in bras.

With no panties to pull up, she reached for her skirt.

"Oh crap," she murmured, spotting the blue-and-black plaid garment under her coach's foot. It already looked comfortably embedded in the layer of accumulated filth beneath their feet.

Tracking her forlorn gaze, Gregorio grimaced sheepishly.

"I can only apologize, Miss Ruiz. Let me and go—"

He was cut off the earsplitting whine of an antique public address system being turned on. The barely-understandable voice of Vice Principal Tancredo squawked that the graduation ceremony would commence in ten minutes.

Forgetting all about her skirt, Rutilia frantically grabbed the red graduation gown she'd mercifully in its shrink-wrap and pulled it on over her head. Its hem reached her ankles.

"There," she said, relieved. "This'll be okay."

Gregorio looked her up and down. Granted, it was perfectly opaque, however...

"You know you can't leave campus wearing that, Miss Ruiz," he said.

"Is your truck where it normally is?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Then I can take it off once I'm strapped in."

Gregorio cocked a brow.

"What? You don't want to come see my new place?"

Her coach's expression softened.

"Oh...that I can do."

"How about finally calling me Ruti?"

"Not a chance, Miss Ruiz."

Rolling her eyes, Rutilia shrugged.

"It was worth a try," she said.

Just then, the bleachers above their heads started to fill up.

The bottomless schoolgirl flashed her coach a smile and ran off to find her seat, dripping a trail of cum behind her.