The Coach

This is a story about a married woman who has sex with someone other than her husband with no crazy revenge. If that kind of story isn't your thing, you are welcome to look away.

*******

I was dealing with the valet parking guy, so I wasn't able to apply my usual block. My wife needs a blocker, or at least a body guard, whenever she goes out in public, and that's one of my jobs.

Kristen is a hot girl. When I say that, I'm not just doing the usual husband, "my wife is pretty cause I love her" thing. My wife is universally known in our small county to be the hottest woman around by far. She's just 23 years old and been out of college for almost two years. She was a beauty queen, but chose not to be a cheerleader for two rather large reasons that are attached to her chest. She is the dream queen of every man, young and old. I know that because many are not shy in saying it. Right to my face. Almost daily.

My wife is statuesque at 5'9" with long honey blond hair. She has fine features and a gorgeous face. Her skin is perfect, and she is without blemish. She has long athletic legs and huge perfect breasts. And not just big hangers either. No, they're these amazing 34GG babies with tiny pink nipples that defy the laws of physics and human biology. It's a pretty picture, is it not?

My young wife, with all her charms, is also very smart and accomplished. She has a degree in graphic design and works for a local agency. She is used to fending off aggressive men like a star running back with stiff arms and quick moves, but she occasionally needs me to throw a block. And that's what I just missed doing.

We had gone out for our first anniversary dinner at one of the best restaurants in town. We had dressed up for the occasion and she had on a little white dress that showed off both her amazing legs and astounding cleavage. I honestly had trouble keeping my eye on the road on the way over, and she found that very funny. She commented about wanting to look nice for me, but not be so distracting that I have an accident.

As I got the ticket stub from the valet, I looked up in time to see my sexy wife being hugged by the town lecher, Coach Stevens. He had been the Head PE teacher and assistant football coach in our little football town all my life. We had many head coaches, but just one "Coach." For as long as I could remember, he had been known as the town playboy, running though a number of wives and scandals. Yet the team kept winning, and he kept his job. At one time he was a big time college linebacker, but at 55, he was now run to fat and balding. Clearly he was no longer the ladies' favorite he once had been and time had not been good to him. He now turned more stomachs than heads. And Kristen felt no differently. In fact, she despised him and the football blockheads like him.

Accept me. I was a star wide receiver and one of the coach's "boys." He loved me. Always a nice thing to say. Always a compliment. Always a warm reminiscence of some game we won. I actually liked the old guy. After all, I spent most of my youth trying to please him in a classroom or on a football field. And hey, I'm a young lawyer in town making my way in the world, and I need all my networks attracting clients. He sends business my way, cause I'm one of his boys.

I rushed up the steps of the restaurant to break up what had to be a scene about ready to explode. The Coach had one paw on the side of Kristen's right beast side cleavage and the other pulling her left ass cheek to grind his groin against hers. I could tell that my lovely wife was about to lose her cool.

I greeted Coach warmly and used a strong handshake to separate my wife from his grasp. He asked if this was a big date, and I told him about our anniversary.

"No shit," he said. "One year already? Let me buy you guys a drink."

That's not necessary," I said, as I felt my wife's temperature rise beside me. But he insisted and led us to the bar in his usual bull-like manner. Kirsten gave me a penetrating stare, but all I could do was shrug.

After drinks were served, Kristen excused herself to the ladies room. I went after her to see if she was alright and caught up to her in the hall.

"Are you OK."

"That sex offender should be locked up. God, he's disgusting."

"Honey!"

"Why do you always defend him? Did you see the way he grabbed my tits and my ass? He's a fucking menace to society."

"Honey, what can I do? He's The Coach."

"If he spoils this evening, I will kill you both." And with a hair flip, she stormed into the ladies room. I returned to the bar to find a smiling Coach.

"Trouble in paradise, huh? Too bad, son. That is one fine piece of ass you married. If you need some help with that, let me know kid. I would love to give her the old 10-incher." He grabbed his crotch in the crudest of ways to make his point.

Yes, I know. No one should let another man talk like that about his wife. But, I had been listening to the Coach's crass talk since I was a boy. Locker room talk. This was tame by what he said about female teachers, cheerleaders or our moms for Christ's sake. I was conditioned to this shit.

"That's what she needs, you know. A big hard one. I've seen the type. Think they're better than us muscle heads. Well, I could show her a thing or two. You're probably way too gentle with her. Slap her around a little every now and then."

"Pardon me Coach, but do you think I should be taking marital advice from you? I mean, how many times were you married?" He laughed. We could always joke with him about that.

"Maybe you're right kid, but I could always keep em happy in bed. That wasn't the problem. Finding me in another bed, now that was a problem." He laughed again just as Kristen returned.

Just then we got a reprieve when the hostess said our table was ready. As we left the bar, he wished us a happy anniversary and pulled my astounded wife into one more hug letting his hand roam to her ass.

After we were seated, and she had calmed down, I asked her to try not to be mad at the Coach. "He was an important influence on me," I reasoned. "He is part of what made me the man you love."

"Ok, but just keep him away from me. I'll break his fucking arm at the elbow if he feels me up again."

The next day, I ran into the Coach again at lunch. He was asking me if my wife's agency did "free stuff'

"You mean pro bono work?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"We are thinking about changing the school mascot and logo."

"I have no idea."

"Well maybe I'll go over their and ask. Who's running that place."

"Marcia Stoddard, I think."

"That the fat one that wanted to be a cheerleader so bad?"

"I don't know, Coach. That may have been before my time. She's around 40 I think."

"So even fatter now you're saying?" He smiled.

"I didn't say any such thing. Don't get me in trouble." He laughed, and we parted ways.

The next night, I came home to a livid wife.

"That pervert friend of yours came to the agency today."

"Which one?" A legitimate question given that most of my friends were ex-football players.

"YOUR Coach! And he wants me to design a new logo for the school. And what's worse Marcia agreed to it. I think she's hot for him, the fat old cow. I think she had an affair with him once and would like to again. It seemed like she would do anything to please him."

"I'm sorry, honey. Maybe it won't be so bad, creating a new logo for your old school."

"It will be a goddamn nightmare. You don't know what that man says to me. All he has ever wanted to do, since my boobs grew, was to get in my pants. He's an old fat pervert."

"What does he say," I asked, a little surprised.

"If I have to hear him brag about the size of his dick one more time, I will scream. Ten inches my ass. I bet it's the size of a thimble."

"No, it's petty big," I heard myself saying as I also wondered why the words were coming out of my mouth.

"How would you know?"

"Showers, honey. Football teams shower together. Hard to hide the size of your dick in a communal shower."

"Oh my God. You mean he showered with the students? He is a worse pervert than I thought."

Then she went silent, and I hoped the difficult conversation was now at an end. But it wasn't.

"How big?" She asked a little hesitantly.

"Big."

"Ten inches big?"

"We try not to get hard in the showers honey. It's bad form you know. Could get the homo label applied to you. Worse thing that could happen to a football player."

"But could it be, you know, ten inches?"

"I guess. I wouldn't doubt the Coach on anything. At one time, he was quite successful with the ladies. Why? Does his having a big dick interest you?" My dick was suddenly rock hard at the thought of the possibilities.

"I'm not interested in that pig's dick. Just curious. It explains some thing, though. I always assumed he was a serial rapist. I can't imagine any woman choosing to sleep with him. But maybe the big dick ..."

"He married half a dozen women. They must have consented."

"I was sure he blackmailed them somehow."

"What do you know about big dick"s anyway?" I asked. Mine was only about 6 inches and she had very little sexual experience before me.

"I don't know anything except what other girls have told me. I had a friend in college who only slept with black guys, you know for the big black dicks." She giggled. "She said you haven't lived till you are completely full of cock. She said it was a non stop cum fest."

"Jesus, what a whore you lived with!"

"Well big dick or not, who would sleep with your Coach? I shudder at the thought."

"You really do hate him, don't you."

"Immensely."

"What are you going to do then about this job thing."

"I'm going to avoid him like the plague."

Two days later I was packing to leave for my weekend of reserve duty. I had used ROTC to get through college and still had my military commitment. Kristen walked in while I was latching my backpack.

"What will you do while I'm gone."

"Work, I guess. I want to get this school logo done and get your Coach out of my life as quickly as possible. He wants to come see what I've done."

"Here. He's coming here this weekend?"

"Tomorrow. He says he can't come during school, so this is the only time he can meet."

"Are you comfortable with that?" I asked. After all, she wanted to avoid him just a few days ago, and now she is acting resigned to meeting him in our home when I am not there.

"What choice do I have? But don't worry. I can handle that fat old pig."

This is the part where I confide that I would not mind if my wife experimented with a big dick. I wouldn't say I fantasize about it, but it would be sexy as shit to see. She is so hot that I find myself watching her reactions during sex. I am much more interested in her pleasure than mine. But with the Coach? There was no question that he planned this for the weekend I would be away. There was also no doubt in my mind that he would try to fuck Kristen and no doubt that he would fail.

Nevertheless, I had to see this upcoming encounter between my wife and the Coach. Fortunately, before I got married I had installed in my house tiny hidden security cameras you can monitor from the web. There was one at each door and in the garage. So the living room and kitchen where covered. I just had to move the one from the garage into the bedroom without Kristen noticing. The last thing I wanted was her thinking I didn't trust her. This is some high tech shit where you can both see and listen to the bad guys burgling your house. I college friend of mine who works for some Silicon Valley startup sold them to me.

All day Saturday I wanted to check the monitors, but was too busy. It wasn't until dinner that I got a chance to slip away and see what they recorded. I found Kristen already in bed with the covers pulled up over her head. Why was she in bed so early? Was she sick? I downloaded the video for the day to my laptop which took quite a while cause it's HD.

Once they were safely on my laptop, I started playing the video of the living room first, fast forwarding until I see Kristen let Coach in the door. The first thing I notice is that she's wearing a short skirt and a tight t-shirt. I find that a bit confusing as it's not the apparel I would have thought she would employ to shut down any sexual advancements. In fact, that outfit would fuel them.

He takes a seat on the couch even though she tries to get him to come to the table where her laptop is set up. But clearly, he is taking control and having things his way. Classic Coach.

"Get me a beer honey, would you?" he says, like he's here for a social call. "That's a good girl." He pats her ass. She's clearly exasperated, but she does it.

She brings the beer and her laptop to the couch and sits a good distance from him and starts to pitch her ideas for a new logo. He pats the sofa next to him for her to come closer.

"I can't see them from way over there. Come here sweetheart and show me what you've done." She reluctantly slides down, and he immediately puts his arm over the back of her shoulders and pulls her close.

"Coach! What are you doing?" She asks.

"Just trying to see better, baby. You really need a bigger computer. But no problem. Come on now. Show the old Coach what you got."

With a sigh, she begins talking fast, trying to get this over with as fast as she can. She is talking about the ram head she has done and how she has applied the school colors. She talks about the logo fonts she chose and why they stand out. Yet, he is clearly not paying attention to anything but her tits and legs.

"Let me ask you," he says. "Did you lose your virginity to a football player in high school? Cause girls with tits like yours usually start young."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothing really. It's just that you created a fierce looking ram mascot here, and I was wondering if it's too sexual. Maybe too sexual for high school."

"I don't think it is at all."

"I was just wondering who you fashioned it after. Your husband or some other football player who banged you in high school."

"That is none of your business. If you must know, I thought of you when I drew this mascot."

"So you think I'm sexy, huh." He moved his arm down to her shoulder. She crossed her arms and legs in a defensive move.

"I do-do not," she stammered. He had her in full defensive mode now, and he pressed forward.

"It's all the stories about my big cock you've heard over the years? The women I have had, maybe?"

"You are so full of yourself."

"But you think about it don't you baby? What it would be like to get fucked by a huge cock. Why else would you dress up like this for me? You can admit it. All the women do, you know."

"I do not. I don't even believe half those stories are true. I certainly never thought of you as much of a stud. My husband is young and handsome and all I need. And I dress like this all the time."

"On weekends when your husband is out of town? I don't think so. And you do think about getting a big cock in that little pussy of yours. Probably mine. You are creaming your panties right now just thinking of it. You don't fool me. I can smell wet pussy a mile away."

"I am not," she responded, mouth wide open aghast at what he was saying to her. She didn't say anything for a minute, but then said, "I don't even believe you're as big as you say you are. I think it's all just little-boy bragging."

Now this bothered me cause I just told her the other day that it was true. Why was she baiting him?

And of course, he took the bait. He stood up turning to face her. Unbuckled his belt and dropped his jeans and all to the floor. There quivering in front of Kristen's face was the longest fattest hard on I had ever seen. I am certain it was the largest she had ever seen.

"Well? It looks real to me," he laughed. She should have been angry. She should have stormed from the room. That is what I expected. But, she just looked at it a little mystified, but leaning forward, too.

"It is big," she sounded surprised as if talking to herself. "And it's beautiful. You have a big beautiful cock." She hesitantly raised her hand to touch it. Feeling the head first then sliding her hand under a it as if testing it's weight.

"You pussy's all wet now ain't it. Admit it," he said smiling down at her. She just looked up into his face without removing her hand from his cock. "Yes it is," she said. He put one hand on her head and tried to pull her to his cock.

"Suck it slut. Put that big fucking cock in your pretty mouth and suck it like you have been wanting to for years. Now's your chance."

Still looking up at him, his cock only inches from her mouth, she said, "I can't suck your cock Coach. I'm married." He looked both surprised and annoyed.

"Then I guess an ass fuck is out of the question," he said sarcastically.

"Yes, it is."

"What about a tittie fuck?"

"A what?"

"Please tell me that someone has fucked those massive tits before. Your husband is missing out."

"No. It just never came up, I guess."

"Well, it's sure up now. Get on the floor on your knees right here.. You got work to do." He pointed to a spot in front of the sofa, as he kicked off his sneakers and jeans and sat down. He spread his legs to make room for her.

My wife was in a trance, hypnotized by a big cock. She slowly removed her blouse over her head. Then she knelt in front of him, reaching back to unclasp her white bra.

"Hurry up slut. I want to see those big fuckin tits I been dreaming about for years." She said nothing just pulled off the straps and let her bra float to the ground.

I remember the first time I saw her tits. It was the first summer I returned from law school. After many, many dates, she finally let me see them. They are just perfect. My response was awe. Perfect huge white globes with little pink rose bud nipples. I was just in awe. However, the Coach's response was a lustful attack. He grabbed them roughly in each hand.

"Ho, ho, hooooo! Fuck, but you are one hot piece of ass. I'm going to fuck your lights out bitch. I'm going to turn that pussy into a fountain of cum."

"No. I'm doing just this one thing. And that's it. I'm married."

"Sure slut. Whatever you say. Get that skirt and those panties off, too. I want to see that world class ass your husband is so proud of."

I thought that mentioning me might pull her out of this trance, but she just slowly loosened and dropped the skirt. Then slowly pulled down her panties. I don't know if she was trying to be sexy or not, but it was the most erotic thing I had seen in my life up to that moment.

"Now wrap those big ass tits around this big ass dick."

She moved slowly, and he got impatient. He grabbed her tits again and roughly pulled her forward until she was pressed against his stomach. He folded her tits around his dick and began thrusting up between them. She was looking right up in his face.

"Is that good," she asked.

"Fuckin A slut. These tits where made for this. Is that making you hot. Is that pussy nice and juicy."

"God yes," she said. "This is so naughty. But it's so hot, too."

"Is my cock bigger than your husband's?"

"Don't do that," she said.

"Do what? I just asked a question."

"You know he can't compete with you. Don't be cruel."

"I'll be whatever I want, slut. And you answered my question. My dick is bigger. Did you ever have a bigger one than his before." She didn't answer. So he started fucking her tits faster and harder.

"Well slut? Any other big ones?"

She said nothing for a minute just looking at his cock and but her lip. Then hesitantly spoke.

"Well, not as big as yours, but still there was one other one that was ... a good size." That surprised me. We had talked all about her two other former lovers, one from high school and one from college.