“Hey, Coach,” she shouted, closing the door of her mother’s BMW, “I didn’t know you would be here.”
“Hey, Cramer,” Coach Brewer said as he waved, “Yep, every Saturday. You here for batting practice?”
“Yes sir,” she answered.
“Use the last cage,” he pointed, “I just loaded it with balls.”
The small-town high school was poised for its first state softball championship in years and junior Honey Cramer was their star player. She could slug the ball over the fence or skillfully place it anywhere in the park that she wanted. She was truly a gifted player.
Coach Brewer, showed extra interest in grooming his all-star slugger. He let Honey use the batting cages whenever she liked. She even had her own key to the equipment shed.
He watched her walk confidently toward the last cage, her bat resting on her shoulder. His eyes took in the sight of his champion athlete. At only five foot three inches tall, she had the legs of a runner and the arms of a rock climber. Here in Mammoth Lakes, California, she did both regularly.
She had just celebrated her sixteenth birthday during preseason drills a couple of months earlier. Her parents had hosted a pool party for her softball teammates. He wished he had been able to see her in what he imagined was a skimpy bikini. Alas, it had been a girls-only party.
Being a well-toned athlete, she was dynamite in a small package. Her long, hay-colored hair hung in a ponytail through the back of her cap almost to her ass. He couldn’t help that his wandering eyes sometimes drifted to her tight young ass. Her cutoffs did little to hide the bottom of her perky, muscular ass cheeks. Shaking the illicit thought from his head, he refocused his concentration on his work. He had only loaded the one cage today for her, knowing there would be no others practicing this early on a Saturday.
The cage next to hers had a broken pitching machine that needed his attention. Slamming shut the tailgate on his F two-fifty, he walked in the same direction as his player. As he followed close behind, his eyes again watched the sway of her young ass as she walked toward her destination.
She arrived at her cage and opened the door. He watched as her perfectly petite frame slipped briefly out of his lingering view. Again, he admonished himself at the inappropriate thought toward his student-athlete. He opened the adjacent cage door and went to work on the broken pitching machine.
Honey closed the door to her cage and began her warmup stretches. The middle-aged coach tried to avert his gaze and not let her catch him sneaking a peek in her direction as she flexed and contorted her body. Her perky little breasts pulled flat against her chest as she stretched her arms over her head. “Damn,” he thought to himself, “She’s going to get me all warmed up if she keeps doing that.”
He knew better get back to his task before he got caught with a rise in his shorts. He fumbled through his tool bag, looking for the tools he’d need to work on the faulty machine. After a few minutes of getting warmed up, Honey asked, “You going to be able to fix that thing, Coach?”
“These old machines all need to be replaced, but I’m going to try,” he said, “Maybe after we get that state title this year, the district will get us some new ones.”
“We’re going to get that title,” she affirmed, swinging her bat, “No promises on the new equipment.”
“That’s the truth if I’ve ever heard it,” he quipped back to her. They both chuckled.
Coach Brewer took a socket wrench from his bag and started disassembling the mechanism. After a few more practice swings, Honey flipped the switch, turned on her pitching machine, and took her stance at the plate. Feet wide and bat high, she swung her hips to the front. There would be a ball every fifteen seconds.
She shook her bat back and forth over her shoulder until, “pfffwup,” the machine sent her a ball. Coach heard the aluminum barrel of her bat connect with the eighty-five-mile-per-hour softball. As soon as she hit the ball, Honey was back in her stance, ready for the next. The previous ball rolled past the machine as it sent another. “Pfffwup.” Honey swung but missed. “Dammit!” she fussed.
“Bend your knees more and wait on the ball,” Coach scolded, “You’re swinging a hair too early. And watch your mouth.”
She saw his smirk and apologized for her language as she reassumed her stance. This ball did not get past her. Three more pitches and three more hits. “There you go,” Coach encouraged, “Keep at it. Don’t forget to push off that back foot.”
Honey nodded as she kept her eyes focused on the next ball coming in. “Poont,” rang the bat when it contacted the ball.
“You need to work left-handed too,” Coach suggested, “That pitcher from Lee Vining High School can’t pitch worth a shit to lefties.”
“You want me to watch my language?” Honey laughed, as she hit another fast pitch from the machine. She quickly switched to the other side of the plate, assuming a left-handed stance.
“Sorry, Cramer,” he chuckled, “Do as I say, not as I do.”
Coach Brewer watched his player as she took her stance, her back to him now. She stood feet wide and bat high. Her ass pushed far out and her back arched, waiting for the pitch. Her swing was flawless…so was her ass, he noticed with a not-so-quick glance.
He could see the curve of her asscheeks peeking out from the bottom of her cutoffs by a couple of inches as her stance stretched the fabric tightly over the mound between her legs. He could feel his body start to respond to his peeking. He came back to reality as she swung and missed once more.
“Bend your knees,” he shouted, “She will strike your ass out every time if you don’t get your stance right.”
Honey shook her head, disgusted with herself, “Sorry, Coach. I’ll try harder.”
Another swing and miss then another. The pitching machine was empty so she switched it off. Leaning her bat against the cage, she started picking up balls to refill the hopper. Coach abandoned his tools to give her a hand. As he entered the adjacent cage he stooped down to grab a ball near the door. At the same exact moment, Honey was bending over to retrieve a nearby ball, his face ended up mere inches from her ass.
He inhaled sharply as he raised up and caught a whiff of her scent. There was nothing like the aroma of a teenage girl.
They carried the balls over to the empty machine and loaded them into the hopper. As she jogged back to retrieve her bat, he watched her ass jiggle in those tight shorts as she bounced. She returned to the plate, waiting for Coach to turn on the switch. He positioned himself close behind her with his hands on her shoulders, “You need to find better balance in your left-handed stance.”
“What am I doing wrong, Coach?” Honey asked.
“You’re trying to mirror image your right-handed stance,” he explained, “That won’t work.”
“Okay,” she said, listening to his instruction, “What should I do?’”
“Move your back foot a little further back,” he suggested, pushing her right foot with his, “That's better.”
Honey was soaking in all she could. She would take his instruction to heart. After all, he had coached many championship teams before coming to Mammoth Lake High School. Not to mention, she kinda had a crush on him for the entire season. She never thought she would ever have an attraction to a forty-year-old man, but he was hot.
He was the reason she had dressed in her skimpy little cutoffs and come to practice on a Saturday. She knew he was always there on Saturday mornings doing maintenance on the equipment. She also knew that there would be no one else at the field so early. It would be hours before anyone else would even think of showing up.
He placed his hands on her hips, which caused her heart to beat a little faster. “Now shift your weight more,” he said. He pushed her hips to the right, “You want the power to come from here.”
As he said the “here” his hand pressed in harder on her hip and grazed her ass cheek. Her body buzzed with excitement as she felt his hand touch where no teacher should touch a student.
Honey leaned into her stance. Her ass pushed back lightly against his crotch. She was surprised that he didn’t move away. She was also surprised to feel…wait, what was that hardness between her asscheeks? “Is he getting hard?” she wondered, “Does he think I’m pretty?”
Coach Brewer felt a warmth in his loins when her ass pushed against his hardening cock. Nervously, he held her hips steady, hoping she wouldn’t pull away…or freak out. He was pleasantly surprised when she pushed back a little more and swayed in her stance. His cock pressed more tightly against her tight young ass.
“Like this, Coach?” she playfully taunted.
“Uhm, Yeah, Cramer,” he answered, “Much better. I think you’ve got it.”
“Not yet, but I want it,” she thought to herself.
“Now,” he instructed, “Go through your swing motion slowly. Don’t hit me with that bat.”
“I’m not,” she laughed. She started her practice swing. Coach held her hips through the motion, guiding her form. She swung ever so slowly, following in tandem through the process. His cock pressed tightly to her backside. She could feel the bulge between her cheeks. Was that a throbbing pulse she felt? She felt her increasing wetness soaking her little panties.
“Think you got it, Cramer?” he asked, his hands still steadying her hips.
“I don’t know,” she breathed deeply, “Maybe a couple more times if you don’t mind…to enforce the muscle memory.”
“Whatever you need,” he said.
He was surprised when she bent down to rub some dirt on her palms. His cock twitched so obviously as she pressed back against him that he knew she must have felt it. He couldn’t help but thrust slightly forward with his hips.
The bat leaned against her crotch as she bent forward, pressing tightly to her little pleasure button. She felt the way his hard cock jerked. She felt his hips push against her ass. Her heart fluttered and her loins tingled as she leaned deeper into the bat. She knew if this continued much longer she would surely orgasm.
She wondered if he was as nervous as she was. She wondered if he would go further if she gave him a little encouragement. Standing upright again, she patted the dust from her hands and grabbed her bat. “Okay, Coach,” she said, wiggling her ass against his crotch, “I’m ready.”
They went through the motion several more times. His sex organ tightly pressed to her teeny ass. Coach felt the wetness of his precum oozing from the head of his thick cock. He ached for release but knew he would be risking everything if he pressed any further…his marriage, his job, and even his freedom. But in that moment of heated friction, it felt so worth the risk. This petite athlete was hot…but so was his wife. Maybe it was the fact that she was so young and so forbidden. It made his cock ache for her. He snapped back to reality.
“You got it, Cramer,” he said, as he took half a step backward.
“Thanks, Coach,” she said, turning to face him with a sultry smile.
He saw the lust in her eyes. Their faces were just a few inches apart. The sexual tension was obvious to both of them. His heart was racing. His cock pressed obscenely at the fly of his pants. She might see it if she glanced down there, but at that moment he realized he didn’t care anymore.
He watched her eyes dart downward to see his excitement. Looking back into his eyes, she smiled shyly but sexily. They spoke no words but just looked into each other’s eyes. There was a hunger in both. He saw it as well as she did…the mutual wanting for the other.
He reached forward gently with his hand and felt the warmth of her fingers as they laced into his. She smiled sweetly as she realized that her hand fit perfectly into his.
His eyebrow furrowed as if he were trying to see something obscure at a great distance. He was brought back to the present when he felt her other hand unzipping his shorts. He looked down with a start as his shorts and boxers were pushed down his legs.
Honey dropped slowly to her knees so that her face was even with his steel-hard shaft. She smiled up at him, her big brown eyes gleaming. He was bigger than she had imagined.
As she took his hard cock in her hand, he watched her stroke it slowly. She stared at it as if it were the first time she had seen one. Her young eyes studied its length as her hand slid up and down. He was speechless.
She was mesmerized by the hardness of his shaft and the contrasting softness of his cock head. She watched the foreskin as she tugged slowly but firmly. The cushion of skin so tightly hugged the head of the shaft, sliding back like a turtleneck sweater.
She looked up at him with a grin, almost laughing. Cocking her head to the side, she saw a clear bead of precum on the tip of his opening. She squeezed the hard shaft and stroked slowly up. The clear drop glistened as it grew. Tentatively with the tip of her young tongue, she leaned in and tasted it.
Her friend, Mandy, had mentioned doing this with her boyfriend. She had told her that it tasted good, a little sweet and a little salty. She hadn’t lied. Mandy had also told her how good it felt to have a man inside her. “Yeah, it was uncomfortable at first,” she had said, “But it starts to get better and better. And then…WOW!”
Mandy was Honey’s best friend and the only one in the world that she had confided in about her crush on Coach Brewer. “But, he’s old,” Mandy laughed.
“He’s only like forty,” Honey argued, “But he’s built like he’s only twenty.”
“Girl, it’ll never happen,” Mandy teased, “He’s married and has kids in college.”
Honey was determined though. She knew Coach Brewer was married…but she knew he was a man. She had been watching him for several months. His blond hair was perfect. His blue eyes were intense. His chiseled body was strong and muscular…and so damned sexy. And now, she had his hard dick in her hand. She felt it throbbing.
Mandy had told her how much her boyfriend liked her blowjobs. The taste so far was not bad so she decided to try it for herself. Gently she kissed the tip and then licked her lips, tasting more of his clear, salty offering.
Her eyes gazed upward and met his. He watched as she covered the entire head with her sweet mouth. His eyes closed and he moaned. “I must be doing it right,” she thought as she continued rolling her tongue around his thick cock head.
Taking more into her mouth, she realized how big his cock was. As she slowly took in more of his length her mind raced with newfound wonder, “Would it fit? Could she go through with it? Would it hurt?”
