Coach King Ch. 07bymxwtt©
This is Chapter 7 of the Coach King series, if you have not already, I recommend reading the previous
installments before reading this one.
As always, thank you all for your support on the previous chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one.
Pam awoke in the early hours of the morning with Jacob beside her. The space between them had returned; he was laying half a foot away from her on his back, snoring softly. She felt weak for latching on to the first body available, seeking comfort through physical distraction, especially through Jacob. She'd known him since she was quite young, and everything about what had happened felt weird. It can't happen again, never, she told herself. She just hoped Jacob understood that, that he knew that it had been a onetime only thing, that there wasn't anything between the two of them. As they lay there Pam shifted uncomfortably, causing Jacob to wake up.
"Pamela?" he said sleepily, sounding confused.
He sat up and rubbed his hand through his hair, seemingly unsure of his surroundings.
"It can't happen again," she said, partially to him, but mostly to herself.
Jacob was quiet for a moment, "I think you're right."
He started to get out of the bed. He doesn't even seem disappointed! Pam thought to herself, surprised how much that fact hurt her pride. She felt his weight shift away, heard him pull his clothes back on and leave the room. Despite her wounded ego, relief washed over Pam and she fell back asleep before he'd even reached the front door.
Pam awoke a few hours later when the sun had come up. She stretched languidly, staying under the covers for a long time, reluctant to leave the security they provided. Her brief moment of peace was welcome after the barrage of the past week. Pam rolled on to back, groaning softly, her muscles felt stiff and she felt the beginnings of a headache forming. She desperately wanted to go for a swim, to silence her doubts and fears with physical exertion, but she had too much to do. Her mother's funeral was to be the following day, a public event sure to attract all sorts of attention Pam would have rather avoided. Pam heard her mother's last words once more:
"Don't make the mistakes I did Pamela, don't forgo love."
"What did you mean?" Pam asked aloud softly, almost expecting a response.
Her mother had always told her men were for two things: physical release, and personal advancement. It seemed obvious to Pam that her mother meant that she should seek out love, but had she meant from family such as Helen and Alison, or from some other source? The only other person who she had any sort of intimacy with was Roy, but was lust the same as love?
Despite her initial distress Pam realised that Roy had only done what he thought she wanted, and this only served to infuriate her further as it made him seem noble on top of handsome and charming. He did take advantage of your ambition, he's no angel. Pam thought to herself, it was what her mother would have told her if she'd still been alive, but it provided no comfort. She could practically hear her voice, run through the conversation and play both sides in her head. She'd done that a lot the first few days after her mother had died, mostly trying to console herself, being unable to accept that her mother was truly gone.
Pam had become angry with Dr. Halkias at some point during the week, blaming him for her mother's death, and had screamed at him until Jacob had intervened. It infuriated her that she'd become so weak that she'd slept with her deceased mother's assistant, that she had sought comfort from someone she barely knew and felt hardly anything for. Jacob had always been a background figure, seen but rarely heard from. She was thankful to have him around during the week that had just passed, but her actions the previous night her inexcusable.
Had it really been all that different with Roy though? Pam wasn't really sure anymore. She'd thought that maybe she felt something more for him, but everything was clouded by the teachings of her mother and his terminating their relationship. She remembered wanting to do things for him, wanting to prove herself to him, to make him want her and only her, but was that love or some perverse manifestation of her desire for power? Had she done that to get leverage over him, to bend him to her will? Or had she genuinely felt something for him? Pam honestly wasn't sure.
What drew her ire more than anything was that Jacob and her mother been dishonest with her, that they hadn't told her about her mother's illness before it was too late. Pam hadn't had an opportunity to say goodbye properly, to adjust to the idea that she wouldn't have a mother anymore, that the ever present force of her mother's presence was set to fade away. Pam wasn't sure what her beliefs of the afterlife were, but hoped that perhaps her mother was watching over her in some form. She felt herself coming dangerously close to tears once again, but was immediately pulled back from the edge by a loud thump from downstairs.
Pam's heart began to pound, and with great care got out of bed. She pulled a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt on as silently as possible, and grabbed her bat from the closet. Pam played softball in the local league; her team was the Riverside Raptors. Pam had a hopeful thought, maybe it's just Jacob. She'd thought he'd left after they'd talked, but maybe he'd gone to sleep downstairs. Feeling silly she went to the window and looked outside; his car was gone, and him with it. Pam felt a tremor of through run up her spine.
Bat at the ready she softly padded down the stairs, fearing that burglars had decided to break in, thinking that she was still at her mother's estate and her house was unprotected. Her progress was slowed slightly by the foot she'd injured the day before, though the pain had dulled it still hurt to put her full weight on it. I should call the police, Pam thought to herself, but kept moving. The noise was coming from the living room, the sound of shoes crunching on glass. Pam gripped the bat tightly, prepared to swing, and came around the corner.
The young man called out in surprise, causing Pam to yelp as well.
Pam's eyes widened when she recognized him, "Wayne?!"
The strawberry blonde hair, the piercing blue eyes, it was unmistakably Wayne Lambert. Wayne was the elder brother of Chloe Lambert, one of the students at Wood Creek Secondary. He was wearing a pair of yellow gloves, a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, and was standing in the middle of her living room. The room was now mostly back to normal (though much less cluttered) from the fit Pam had thrown the previous day. Wayne's presence confused Pam, then she remembered that his father owned a cleaning business and that Jacob had told her that he'd send someone over to clean the mess.
"Pam! Sorry I scared you; I didn't want to wake you up. Jacob said you've been having trouble sleeping," Wayne said sympathetically.
Pam felt a flash of anger, she didn't want sympathy, she wanted... Well she wasn't sure, but sympathy from an old schoolmate wasn't it. She stopped herself from getting too angry with Wayne, realising that he'd done nothing wrong and was only trying to be nice.
"Thank you, Wayne. How'd you get in?" Pam asked, standing the bat against the wall and entering the room.
"Jacob let me in. He asked my Dad to send someone you'd recognize," he added, "He was worried you would think it was a reporter or something."
"Oh," Pam replied, and after a pause continued, "Thank you for coming. Would you like something to eat?" Pam asked, wanting to get out of the room, she felt ashamed by the evidence of the outburst she'd had the previous day.
"Yeah, sure. Just let me take this outside, and I'll be right back alright?" Wayne said, grabbing hold of the trash bin containing broken glass.
Pam went into the kitchen and began to prepare scrambled eggs for the two of them. Wayne returned and offered to help, but Pam insisted that he sit down. He sat at the table, watching Pam as she cooked. She was as beautiful now as she'd been when they'd gone to school together, but she seemed very grown up. Far too much strain had been put on her at too young an age.
He remembered the laughing girl who hung out with Kristi Matthews and Carolyn Eckert, the girl with the rich mom who controlled her every move. All the guys wanted to date her, but she seemed unattainable so none had tried. Then she'd gone off to some fancy university out of state and he'd gone to the community college in Greenville.
"So you work for your Dad?" Pam asked, making conversation.
"Yeah. I managed the business end of it, balancing the books and whatever. He manages the crews. Usually I don't go out and clean, just on the weekends or if he needs an extra pair of hands," Wayne replied.
The two continued to chat comfortably, and Pam took the opportunity to surreptitiously eye Wayne. She thought her hunger had been sated the previous night, but found herself ogling the man in front of her. Pam remembered him from their school years together; he'd been quite popular, among both sexes if she remembered correctly. She could see why, like his sister he'd inherited his striking good looks from his mother, and his kind and gentle nature from his father. Pam remembered his mother quite clearly, fairly tall like Chloe was now, with a full figure and deep red hair which Chloe also inherited.
Wayne's hair color was a mix of his mother's and father's, a conflict of light blonde and red that fell somewhere in the middle. He'd been quite athletic in high school, and looked to have kept himself in very good shape. She remembered when his mother had died, he'd only been seventeen and Chloe had been ten. It had been a suicide, and Pam remembered the rumours that had flown afterward. She'd felt sorry for Wayne, but hadn't known him well enough to try and provide any sort of comfort. The two finished eating, and despite her reluctance to be alone once more Pam cleared the plates away.
As she got to the sink she felt herself feeling overwhelmed again, his presence reminding him of high school, of all the times she'd gone to her mother for advice. It had been one of the best times for them. She stared into the sink trying to force the emotions back, fighting the urge to cry again, angry with herself for being so feeble. Wayne got up and prepared to leave, but stopped when he saw Pam trembling.
"Pam? Are you alright?" he asked uncertainty, approaching her.
"I...I'm so weak Wayne," Pam said shakily, her voice raw with emotion. "I don't know how I'm going to make it without her."
Wayne was quiet for a moment and put a reassuring hand on Pam's shoulder. The strength behind that hand and the kindness she felt in his touch provided a great amount of comfort to Pam.
He took a breath and said, "When my mom died, I was scared too. I was only seventeen, but my sister was even younger. I had to be strong for her, had to let her know everything would be fine. I told her that the hurt we felt couldn't be taken away, but neither could the memories of someone we love. Those we love live on in our memories. You just need time, everything's still too raw, you need to take a breath and keep going. Your mother wouldn't want you to stop living your life because you're scared, she gave you the tools you need to survive, you just need to practice using them."
Pam surprised Wayne by wrapping her arms around him desperately. Wayne returned the embrace, pulling her against himself tightly. He felt Pam's shoulders heave as she cried, her tears soaking into his t-shirt. Seeing the Pam in this state was distressing for Wayne, who'd always seen her as indestructible as her mother. Seeing her so vulnerable and scared was heartbreaking. Wayne held onto Pam protectively, sheltering her from the world in his strong arms until she pulled away, wiping tears from her eyes.
"Thank you, Wayne." Pam said, unsteadily.
Wayne was once again surprised by Pam when she leaned forward and brought her lips gently to his. The kiss was cautious at first, a restrained movement that brought Pam's and Wayne's lips into contact. At first Wayne was shocked still, but found his body responding quickly. His lips parted slightly, and prodded Pam's with his tongue. Pam's mouth opened enough for Wayne's tongue to enter and run against hers. Each could feel the other's body pressing against theirs, the close proximity allowed for a deeper exploration of each other's mouths. Their tongues embraced, sliding along one another as their saliva combined.
What are you doing? Pam asked herself, unable to control her actions. A sudden rush of affection towards him had bloomed inside of her, the warmth of it thawing the cold loneliness she'd felt all week. The way his arms held her, shielding her from the world around them, she found herself trusting him despite only knowing him in passing.
Pam's hand trailed up Wayne's flank, up to his firm chest. She found herself going back to her happy days at high school, reliving something that had never happened but she wished had. The feeling was new, it was exciting, and it soon became overwhelming. Wayne moaned softly into Pam's mouth, responding to her touch as Pam began to gently fondle the growing bulge in his jeans. She was doing it again, seeking out physical intimacy to escape the reality of what was going on around her, turning something that could be beautiful into something of lust. Shying away from genuine affection, falling into her usual search for physical stimulus, unable to allow herself feel anything because if she did she could get hurt.
Using her hand at his chest, Pam pressed him back against the counter firmly, tracing around the outline of his cock through the denim jeans. Pam felt Wayne's body stiffen against hers and her hand undid the fly to his jeans with practiced ease. It gave her a grim sense of satisfaction that he responded to her touch, responding to her in the way every man she'd ever been with had. Wayne had never had anyone be this direct with him, Pam knew what she wanted and she was taking it, and Wayne didn't want to stop her. Pam's hand slid under the waistband of his boxer shorts and gently grasped his cock.
Wayne gasped into Pam's mouth as she began to stroke his shaft expertly, sizing him up. Pam disengaged her lips from Wayne's and brought them to his neck instead, kissing the erogenous zone just below his ear. His cock became rock hard in her fist as Pam ceaselessly stroked his shaft with measured strokes. The hand moved lower, fondling his balls experimentally. Wayne gasped at Pam's skillful toying, the suddenness and the intensity of the situation threatening to make him cum. Every fantasy he'd had as a teenager flooded back to him, he remembered imagining finding her in the girls locker room after swim practice, her long blonde hair soaking wet. She'd go after him just like she'd done today, her hunger for him insatiable.
Wayne's eyes snapped open, and his hand wrapped around her wrist tightly.
"No more," he said, and Pam stopped.
Wayne couldn't let it happen like this, not while she was hurting so badly, not if it was something she might regret later.
Pam felt embarrassed, and a rush of shame went through her. She'd managed to scare him away before they could even explore the feelings that had pounced on them.
"I'm sorry," she said, misinterpreting Wayne's words.
Her eyes turned away from his, cast downward towards the tiled floor. Wayne's hand cupped her chin gently and tilted her head upward so she was staring into his deep blue eyes.
"It's alright. It's normal to want to try and forget what's happening," Wayne said.
Their lips met again, this time the contact initiated by Wayne. The kiss was soft and gentle, full of affection.
"I don't want to do anything you'll regret later," Wayne told her.
Pam was reeling from the kiss, it was so gentle, so kind, so unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. With every other man there had been nothing but lust behind everything they did to her body, even Roy, though he'd been gentler than some. She'd never consider any of his kisses loving. Pam felt as if Wayne wanted to care for her, would protect her if she needed him to. She was struck speechless.
"I have to get home; my Dad will start wondering where I am," Wayne said, forcing his erect penis back into his uncomfortably tight jeans.
"I'm sorry," Pam repeated.
"No," Wayne said, "Don't be sorry. Would it be alright if I came back later tonight, maybe have some dinner?" he asked hopefully, his blue eyes meeting Pam's.
Pam was taken aback, "Oh... Well, of course. I mean, I'd be happy to..."
"Good, I'll see you later," Wayne said smiling, he waved goodbye as he left the room.
Pam sat back down at the table, her mind reeling, hardly believing what she'd just done. She'd allowed herself to get completely carried away. The reality of it all started to press down on her: she'd once again performed a sexual act on someone she hardly knew. What the hell's wrong with me? She asked herself. Pam was being forced to deal with way too much far too quickly, she felt as if she was going to suffer a breakdown, but it didn't come. Tears didn't arrive, sobs didn't escape out from her mouth, and suddenly Pam realised that the rising panic had turned into a sense of calm. She felt like laughing, and did, not hysterically, but happily.
Wayne had given her exactly what she needed, an understanding ear and words of comfort. He wasn't looking to take advantage of her, he wasn't looking to gain something out of her mother's death. All he wanted to do was help her, to make her feel better. He was on her side, a good man fighting in her corner. A sense of relief washed over her, as she realised what her mother had meant, what her mother must have understood, why she'd told her not to forgo love. She didn't love Wayne, certainly not yet, but she felt for the first time as if she were capable of the emotion. It made her feel like a full person, it made her feel human.
Roy awoke with a start, there was a pounding on his front door. Getting dressed quickly, he hurried down the stairs and opened the door. Helen was on the other side, illuminated from behind by the newly risen sun, a brilliant white smile on her face.
"Good morning," she said in a sing-song voice, walking in.
Helen was wearing a pair of jean shorts and a yellow t-shirt, and a pair of flats which she kicked off as she went through the door. As far as he could tell she wasn't wearing a bra, her breasts remained surprisingly high on her chest despite their size.
"Kayla had to work, but I wanted to see you," Helen said to explain her presence.
"How'd you get here?" Roy asked.
"I walked," Helen replied, as if it were obvious.
She kept on walking, right up the stairs and into Roy's bedroom. Helen fell back into his bed heavily.
"Could you rub my feet? It was an awfully long walk," she asked pouting cutely.
Roy laughed, "Alright," he said indulgently.
He grabbed a bottle of body lotion from the bathroom and sat down at the end of the bed. He rubbed some of the lotion into his hands and brought her right foot into his lap. To begin Roy applied the same lotion on her foot, rubbing the lotion into the warm flesh all over her foot and upwards to just above her ankle. Then he took hold of her foot gently, cupping her heel in one and the top of her foot in the other, and began to gently rotate her ankles, first clockwise and then in the opposite direction.
Helen leaned back against the pillows, sighing pleasurably. Roy walked his thumbs back and forth along the sensitive soles of her feet, making her toes wiggle as she grew used to his touch in the mildly ticklish area. He pushed deeply with his thumbs, finding the pressure points and working them to delightful effect. Helen's eyes closed and she hummed happily as he massaged her delicate foot.