College sucks. The teachers don't like you, they don't care if you pass or fail, and they certainly never give an easy assignment. Maybe it's just me they hate, or maybe the rest of my class mates feel it too.
My track coach in particular hates me. Today he made me run eight stadiums, also known as the cruelest form of torture in human history. After that there was a series of ladders and then agility drills. I did mine 'sub pare' and earned two more sets. He hates me. When I eventually dragged myself up the stares to my micro apartment I was bone tired and perfectly ready for sleep even if it was only seven.
I took a long hot shower, enjoying the feel of the water on my skin. When I was finished Igot out and dried my hair in the mirror. It was sandy blonde and hung down to the middle of my back.
My eyes were green right now but they've been known to change colors when they want to. My lips were average, the bottom one curling down in a cute way. My nose was normal, not as small as I would like but not huge either. I had a small thin body that my parents often described as elf like, paired with my slightly pointed ears, it made my choice of halloween costume very easy.
When my hair was mostly dry I retired to my living room to zone out with the tv on. At close to nine I got a knock on the front door and slowly got out of my chair to go see which one of my friends had been kicked out this time.
It was probably Joey, Joey has problems with authority. When I opened the door I was very surprised to see my coach on the stoop of my apartment. "Umm hi coach Lightfoot." I said. His name always makes me laugh. Half the time I think he changed his name to suit the nickname he'd gotten while in college, but I'd been told that it was his actual name. "Hi Blithe, I was just dropping by to see if you were okay. I know that I was kind of hard on you during practice." He said, drawing his thin lips into a smile.
"Yeah I'm fine, thanks for stopping by." I said, attempting to shut the door on his handsome face. He stopped it with one long-fingered hand and looked me dead in the eyes. "May I come in?" He asked politely, flashing a dazzling smile at me. I had to stop and think. What could this man possibly want from me, his sole life's mission was to make me miserable. But then again he is my coach and I shouldn't say no just because he irks me. Apparently that's not a good reason. "Ummm sure.
Come in." I said, completely doubtless that he could only make my day worse. "Thank you Blithe." He said, sliding past me with his tall thin frame.
He stood admiring my apartment and I admired him. He was probably 5'9", a good five inches taller than me, with sharp features.
His hair was short cut and a musty brown shade. His eyes were blue and seemed hooded most of the time. He had a longish face with a sharp nose that almost seemed to complement his appearance, where it would hurt others appearances. His chin was strong and led down to a trim and taut body, the kind that sees exercise everyday but doesn't look like a body builder.
More male model type. He was 27 now. Lightfoot had gone straight from college to working for the college as a coach and teacher.
He continued looking around my apartment, the living room being small with at least four different kinds of wallpaper, all of them peeling. It contained a tv, a beat up recliner, and a stripped love seat. "It's very. Cozy." He said trying to be polite. "Yup, so would you like something to eat or drink?" I asked, trying so hard to be polite and not just ask why he was here so late.
"No I'm not hungry. Really I just came to talk to you." He said, sidling towards me, completely invading my personal space. I backed towards the door, ready to run if this got to personal. The only problem with that plan was the depth perception part, I thought the door was three steps back, turns out it's only two. I hit the door with a light thud and before I knew it he was surrounding me, an arm on each side of my body, holding the door firmly closed.
"Just relax." He said, his words like silk next to my ear. My body wanted to relax, his words calming me but my mind was still thinking of a way out. "I've never heard anyone sound more like a rapist." I replied, his body almost touching mine now. He just laughed and amid the fear and darkness in my mind it sounded light and musical.
"Oh sweetie, you have no idea." He growled before fitting his thin lips against mine. They were so soft and sweet as he began working his tongue into my mouth. I felt his hands on my hips as he slid them up, coming to rest on my collarbones.
I felt something cold and metallic around my neck, but I brushed it off as him playing with my necklace.
His body was radiating heat and all of it was directed at me. He kissed me harder now, picking up speed and possessing my mouth. My skin lit up wherever he touched me, eager for the feel of his tanned flesh on mine. When he finally pulled back we were both out of breath, him leaning his head onto mine and gently moving the hair out of my face. "Sorry sweetie, but I didn't know if I could trust you. But now I won't have to find out." A smile lit up his face and I moved my hands up to my neck where a strange weight was now.
It was a collar, locked into place with a little heart-shaped padlock.
"It's a shock collar." He said simply. The metal I had felt was from the little box on the side of my neck. "Now all we need to do is find the right level." He took a little black remote from his jean pocket and twisted a dial.
I felt a little buzz and my muscles tightened. "Not quite." He said absentmindedly, staring at the dials. Slowly I reached for the door knob, trying not to be noticed. I was almost there when he saw me. "No, no, no, sweetheart. You're not getting away that easy." He said, twisting the dial way up and pressing a button. Pain scorched through my neck and my muscled went rigid.
I'm decently sure I screamed but I couldn't say for sure. He took his finger away and I fell to the ground, twitching probably. "That's the one!" Lightfoot announced triumphantly. I scowled at him from my place on the ground. "Let's not make this anymore unpleasant than it has to be.
Stand up." He ordered, holding the remote up threateningly. I couldn't, my legs felt like jello. "Come on now Blithe, up you go." He said pulling me to my feet with one hand. "Now how about you show me your bedroom." He said, pushing me in front of him. I wanted so badly to run away but my legs could barely manage walking.
I could scream but chances are that no one would show up. I lived in a ratty part of town and if some one screamed it was ignored by the general populace. I led him through the little galley kitchen and into the bedroom.
It was roughly the same size as the living room and was a light beige color. The center piece was my bed, a queen sized mattress covered in dark red sheets. It sat below a bay window that had red curtains shrouding the view. Clothes and books were strewn all over the carpeted floor.
Lightfoot helped himself to my bed, stretching out and pushing all of the pillows off except for one body pillow that he placed at the top of the bed and laid on.
"Go put on a dress, just the dress, nothing else." He order, fiddling with the remote. I walked stiffly to my closet, which thankfully was a walk-in. Barely, it was barely a walk-in. But I crammed myself in and selected a small, black, cotton dress with metal studs outlining the bust. I figured that it would be the easiest to wash if he got his mess on it. When I was sufficiently undressed I returned to the room where Lightfoot was still lounging, but this time he had his manhood out in full view and was casually stroking it.
Until this moment I hadn't really thought it would come to this. It hit me like a brick to the side of the head and suddenly I couldn't move. "Why don't you go put on some makeup." He said pointing to the small, underused vanity in the corner. I walked there slowly, in no hurry to find out what would come next.
After digging through the drawers I found some eyeliner and began applying a thick black line around my eyes. "Bend over more, get really close to the mirror." My coach said. Wanting to avoid and more electricity I bent at the waist and leaned on the vanity. I felt my dress ride up in the back, exposing my ass.
After I finished with eyeliner I applied mascara and lip gloss seeing as I don't believe in lipstick. "That's enough, come over here." He said smoothly, patting a spot beside him on the bed. I stood up straight and tried to make my legs go towards him but they just wouldn't move.
"Don't be shy now." He said, holding up the remote again. Suddenly my legs were moving and I was sitting beside him on the bed. "Here." He was pointing the nine inch shaft pointing straight up. It was thick and fat unlike the rest of his body. I crawled over him and positioned myself above the head but paused, not sure if I could go through with this.
"Coach I can't." I started but he didn't wait for me to finish, he just slammed me down onto him. I was so full so fast that my body just collapsed onto him and I laid there on his still clothed chest adjusting to his size.
"Not coach in here, call me by my first name." He said, his hands sliding onto my back. "But coach." He put a finger to my lips. "Call me Raphael, I insist." Lightfoot said. "But." He moved suddenly, ramming up into me.
All of the air rushed out of my lungs and I scrabbled at his chest. "Okay, okay. Raphael." I managed to say. "See, was that so hard." Raphael said, pushing me up to a sitting position. "Now undress me," I started to lift myself off of him but he stopped me, "without moving." He rested his hands on my thighs and slid them up under my dress to my hips.
I started with his shirt, it was some kind of dry fit, that hugged tight to his muscular frame. I wrestled it up a few inches but it would take me a century to get it off of him like this.
Realizing my plight he quickly sat up, bringing us chest to chest, and face to face. "This help any." He said, his face inches from mine. His eyes kept darting down to my lips then back up to my eyes.
I made quick work of the shirt then, raised it over his head and tossed it to the floor. "Now the pants." Raphael said, wrapping his muscular arms around me for a moment and kissing my neck. "You're so sweet." He said quietly. After he had laid back down I tackled the problem of pants, continuously distracted by the ridiculously handsome man impaling me and being impaled.
Every time I moved it shifted inside of me hitting the over sensitive walls of my love canal. After struggling to move his jeans any he arched his back up in to me and after a moment of pleasure I pulled them down. I got them around his knees and then his calves when I couldn't reach any further. Without thinking I leaned back until my back hit the mattress between his mildly hairy legs and pushed the pants and boxers the rest of the way off, taking his socks with them.
When I was done he grabbed my hands and pulled me back up slowly, making sure to rub himself all around in me. He managed to remove my dress in the process and throw it to the floor. "That's better." He murmured more to himself than to me.
After I was sitting back up he placed his hands on my hips and mouthed one word to me. "Move." I started bouncing up and down, spearing my self on him and getting as much as I could.
I braced myself on his beautiful chest, switching angles until I found that special spot and went down on it until I was moaning my coach's name.
He, in the meantime, had found my boobs and was pulling on them. He used them to pull me down so that we were laying chest to chest, breathing raggedly. Raphael pulled me up into a feverish kiss, mashing my mouth onto his and taking what he wanted.
I couldn't think, nothing mattered beyond this mouth on mine. One of his hands found my ass and the other was tugging lightly on my hair. Suddenly he flipped us over so that I was on my back with my legs wrapped around the sexiest hipbones on the planet. He pulled off of me, breathing heavy, and kissed down my neck to my breasts.
He took one nipple between his teeth and toyed with it. "Please me." He managed to say around my nipple, his hot breath warming my breast. I couldn't think and he was stopping any kind if movement that I could make so I did the only thing that I could think of.
I squeezed the muscles down inside of me, tightening my hold on his deliciously hard member. He moaned into my breasts and started thrusting rapidly.
I held on as best I could, he was clearly trying to pound the bed through the floor and use me as a buffer but it felt so good. I moved back in time with him, meeting him thrust for thrust.
My body was on fire and I was moaning and clawing at his back. His mouth was hanging open in a little 'O' shape as he inhaled rapidly. I bit down on his collarbone, wanting to taste any part of this man that I could get. He let out a loud 'ahh' and returned the favor by biting my collarbone once I let go. It felt amazing, him driving into me and holding on with his teeth, probably bruising but I couldn't care. He moved his mouth to my ear and nipped at it, clasping it between his teeth.
I moaned loud enough for all of the neighbors to hear. "You're a kinky little girl." He rasped into my ear. I could only reply by kissing him sloppily and hanging onto his bottom lip when he drew away. I held it for a moment and then released earning myself a satisfying slap as it returned to its place. That noise disappeared among all of the other noises coming from the room, the loud wet slap of skin on skin, the creaking and groaning of my bed, and the harsh breathing coming from us.
Raphael readjusted then, straightening my legs so that I was bent double, my knees on my chest and my ankles around his ears. He moved back into me and it was so deep that it almost hurt. I placed my hands on his hips to help control his trusts but he wasn't going to be stopped. Raphael's thrusts were getting quicker and more erratic. His eyes were half open, looking down at me in a euphoric daze.
They weren't focused and neither was I. I felt that familiar build deep in my belly and I moved faster responding to every move he made before he made it. I came first, calling Raphael's name as I hugged onto him. He followed a moment later, pulling out of me and showering my skin in a stream of white liquid. Raphael collapsed on top of me, smearing his juices all around and coming to a rest with his head on my chest.
After a few moments of catching our breath he rolled off of me and pulled me into his chest, snuggling close. The heat was almost unbearable but his chest was so handsome, all hard planes of muscle and sinew. He kissed me lightly on the forehead and wrapped his strapping arms around me. We fell asleep like that at some point and when morning rolled around we were still huddled together on my bed.
He was already awake but hadn't moved so that I could sleep a little longer. "Morning sweetie." He said in the sexiest sleep voice ever. The voice that all computers should have as an option and phones should have for the male version of Siri. I rolled into him, wanting as much of his skin touching me as possible. "Now where do you get off calling me sweetie all the time?" I asked playfully, completely oblivious to the fact that he had removed the shock collar sometime in the night.
"Well if you weren't so damn tasty and innocent acting all the time I would call you something else, but you are so get over it." He said. I giggled, the feeling of happiness and fully sated lust making me giddy.
Or maybe it was the proximity of this deliciously handsome coach of mine. We were both late to school that morning. Most of the students in his class were happy and nothing could bring down my wonderful mood, not even grouchy Mr. Thornburg. Speaking of Mr.
Thornburg, he's about the same age as Raphael. I wonder if he's fond of collars.