Norma Egan - The coach_s wife

Vicky Benson sat alone on the deserted bleachers watching her husband put the Oaktown High School football team through its spring training. Her eyes weren't on her husband. She was watching the players, their lithe, clean, young bodies. My God, she was thinking, to have a lover like that

Vicky's husband Melvin, better known as "Biff", had coached Oaktown to three successive state championships and was aiming for a fourth. Vicky could have cared less whether he won or not. It didn't affect his bedroom performance, which was zilch. They hadn't made love in more than a month.

Vicky had had about all she could take of being an unloved wife. She needed to get laid so badly, she could almost scream.

"Hi, Mrs. Benson. How's it going?"

Vicky looked up and saw that Tod Allen, the eighteen-year-old star and captain of the team, was grinning at her. Her stomach fluttered with sudden lust. He was a devilishly attractive boy with raven black hair, piercing blue eyes like Paul Newman, and a ravishing white smile. His body was perfectly formed. Vicky couldn't help ogling his tan legs and arms. She wished she was twenty years younger.

"I'm fine, thank you, Tod," she said. "How are you? Think the team will win the championship again this year?"

"You better believe it," Tod said enthusiastically. "We've got a helluva good team. And besides, Coach says we have to win-and what he wants, he gets."

Coach, indeed. As Tod rejoined the team, Vicky's eyes turned at last to her husband. Buff Benson had the body of a bull. His hair was thinning on top and he was getting just the slightest paunch, but he was still an impressive figure-to everyone but Vicky. She knew him only as a tired preoccupied man who couldn't get it up in bed.

It hadn't always been that way. For the first half of their twenty years of marriage, Biff could never get enough of her. He was one of those men who had to prove his virility by doing it at least once a day. Then he began to taper off, till now their sexual relations, were almost nonexistent. Vicky wondered what had gone wrong. Was it his age? Or had he simply grown tired of fucking the same woman day after day?

Biff was forty-five, Vicky was thirty-eight. She supposed that made them a middle-aged couple, but she certainly didn't feel middle-aged. Her body still pulsed with life and unspent energy, and it seemed lately that she constantly seethed with the need of sex. She was so constantly horny that she'd grown nervous and irritable-further dampening Biff's ardor, no doubt.

Well, fuck him, she thought, it's not all my fault.

Biff ordered the team to the showers, and Vicky stood up and started to make her way down the bleachers to join her husband. There were several low wolf whistles. None of the boys were oblivious to the exceptional endowments of the coach's wife. Vicky Benson was a statuesque redhead with lovely long legs, thick flowing hair, and an exceptionally large and well-shaped pair of tits. As she moved down the bleachers; her big full breasts thrust out and her shapely legs revealed by her short skirt, a couple of the boys ran into each other as they turned to look at her.

Holy sheeeee-it," one of them said in a low voice, "I'd sure like to get me some of that."

"Aw, knock it off," said Tod Mien. "She's the coach's wife, and you better show respect."

That got quite a few grins, and Tod himself had to turn away in order not to show his strange smile. It was his job, as captain, to keep the other guys in line, but secretly he had the hots for Mrs. Benson, too. She made all the little high-school girls look like Barbie dolls in comparison to her voluptuous beauty.

"Hello, handsome," Vicky said to Biff, using her most alluring tone. "Ready for a martini and a big steak?"

Biff turned absently to her. "Oh, hi, honey," he said listlessly. "I'm gonna be a little late tonight. Gotta run over some training films. You go ahead and eat without me."

Vicky could barely restrain her anger. Her lovely face flushed, and she turned on her heel and marched off the field; clenching her fists. What the hell was the point of being married? He didn't ball her, he hardly noticed her existence, and half the time he didn't come home to eat. She'd hoped that tonight she could seduce him into bed with good drinks, food, and a sexy manner.

"Hey, Mrs. Benson, wait up! Can I give you a ride?"

It was Tod again. Vicky wondered how he'd gotten through the showers so fast. He was running to catch up with her, and again she felt her stomach fluttering with lust.

"Why, thank you, Tod," she said pleasantly. "I didn't bring my car."

Oaktown was quite small, and it was only a few minutes drive from the school to the Bensons' neatly-kept brick house in the better section of town. Vicky thought it was only polite to ask Tod in for a snack, and he readily agreed.

"You got a real nice place here, Mrs. Benson," he said as he looked around the living room.

"Why, thank you, Tod" she said. "What would you like to eat? Milk? Cookies? A sandwich?"

He caught her eye, and for the first time she saw something more than an adolescent boy. There seemed to be a glimmer of amusement in those sparkling dark blue eyes. "Well, to tell the truth, ma'am," he said, pinning, "I'd rather have a beer."

Vicky laughed. She could remember when she was his age and pretty exasperated with being treated like a child. Why, she'd been just a year older than Tod when she married Biff.

"Sure," she said. "I'll have one, too."

They sat in the living room sipping their beer, while Vicky politely got Tod to talk about himself. It was a familiar story-the small-town boy, son of a grocer, aiming for a football scholarship and the big-time. Tod kept inching closer and closer to Vicky on the sofa, and soon she could tell that it wasn't accidental or unconscious. She flushed slightly, and she felt that strange melting sensation again in her loins.

What if he tried to make love to her? What would she do?

She had no idea. She'd never been unfaithful to Biff. He was the only man she'd ever fucked. But she believed in monogamy, believed in fidelity. If only Buff were taking care of her in bed, the question would never have arisen

"Anybody ever tell you you're beautiful?" said Tod.

His thigh was practically touching hers now, and she could hear his excited breathing. These things, and the remark he'd just made, prompted Vicky to giggle, but she didn't. She didn't want to hurt his feelings. But it was ridiculous. She was old enough to be his mother.

"Why, Tod," she said lightly. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Then what will?" said Tod.

Vicky blushed deeply and stared at him. There was no doubt at all about his intentions. Even after twenty years she remembered that eager horny adolescent expression, and to clinch matters, the crotch of his jeans was bulging in a tell-tale way. Christ, he even had a hard-on for her. Vicky didn't know what to do.

"Tod," she said weakly, "you're out of line. Maybe you'd better leave."

He threw himself at her. Vicky dropped her beer, but before she could move away, he was embracing her powerfully, pressing his mouth on hers. He was a big, strong boy, and he succeeded in pinning her back against the couch, holding her with the weight of his body so she could move. His hard chest pressed against her big ripe breasts, and he swiftly worked his tongue into her mouth, where it danced and tickled hungrily on her tongue.

"Uuummmpppfff." Vicky exclaimed.

It was a cry of surprise, not at the fact that he'd kissed her, but at her own response. The instant his body touched hem, she felt a rush of lust so strong that she could hardly control it. She wanted desperately to return his embrace, his kiss, to give herself up to him completely. For one dizzy moment she thought how delicious it would be to just lie back and spread her legs for this eager kid, to feel that wonderful hard adolescent cock easing into her starved cunt.