Ken James Fiction
It started with the head cheerleader flashing me in first period history class.
I was still a hero to everyone who'd stayed in Conner, as the star quarterback who took the Cougars to State and wrecked his knee making the winning touchdown, instantly ending a promising career.
Five years later, I was back at Conner High, as the junior assistant football coach. All those people from before were watching and waiting to see what I did. They were rooting for me, but that just increased the pressure of living up to their expectations. We take football seriously in Texas.
At Conner High, Assistant Coaching positions aren't full-time, so I also teach history, health, and physical education. First period every day is history. On Tuesday and Thursday, I spend the rest of the morning teaching P.E. Since it was Thursday, I was wearing shorts, sneakers, and a tee-shirt, so I could go to the gym without changing.
Sandy Oakes, the Cougars' head cheerleader, sat in the front row, wearing her usual tight blouse stretched over her big breasts and a skirt that barely covered the tops of her muscular thighs. She'd been a leading member of the barely-teen legion who'd worshiped me in the glory days. Back then, Sandy had been kitten-cute. She'd become a full-grown woman, with long thick curly black hair, flashing dark eyes, and a ready smile.
I was boring the class with the Wars of the Roses. Sandy diligently took notes, but also spent a lot of time gazing at me with a dreamy expression. I finished talking about Henry Tudor and asked for questions.
Sandy had been holding her knees together, but she opened them as I looked in her direction, showing bare skin. Her dark folds stood out against her hairless vulva.
It was a good thing I was sitting behind the desk, because my shorts and jockstrap did nothing to hide my instant immense boner.
I froze, staring at her. Then, Ralph Richards asked how Shakespeare's history plays related to the wars, breaking the spell. Sandy closed her legs, smiling mysteriously. She continued smiling through the rest of the class, but didn't open her legs again.
For the rest of the day, I couldn't get Sandy and her bare pussy out of my mind. Not until after football practice.
Copyright © 2018 by Ken James