Six Foot Wrong Romance - Cover

Six Foot Wrong Romance

Copyright© 2018 by Not Late Kate

Chapter 2

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Patricia Walker is a tall talented high school athlete with everything going for her everywhere except in the romance department. That is until a forbidden crush changes everything. Warning, there is some abusive behavior in here. It is a romance, but not all romances are nice and the road to get to good is pretty bumpy.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   ft/ft   Teenagers   Coercion   Consensual   Reluctant   Romantic   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   School   BDSM   MaleDom   Humiliation   Spanking   Teacher/Student   Slow  

Patricia Walker passed ninth grade with respectable marks, celebrated a birthday over the summer and spouted up five more inches to five feet ten inches. The boys started catching up in height as well, and Tricia had some fleeting crushes, but no relationships yet. She rather liked the way the name Tricia sounded, so she ‘rebranded’ as Ali called it. Her dad thought she should get a job, but she wanted to go to a volleyball camp. They compromised and she took a few shifts at the vet’s office where her mom worked part-time, leaving her plenty of time to play sand court volleyball over by the lake. WIth the extra money, she’d gotten herself a new swimsuit. It was her first bikini, since she now had enough up top for one of those to actually make sense.

People noticed it, too. One pimply faced but sweet boy especially noticed her and worked up the courage to ask her out. Lacking any other options, she’d accepted. It was her first date, and she knew she should be feeling flutters, but nothing was really there for her for most of the date. Despite that, she decided to let him kiss her and her first real kiss finally gave her those silly flutters in her tummy.

He’d such a look of awe on his face and she could tell it was his first time too. She felt bad just saying thanks and ending it there. He was confused, even angry when she said no to any further dates. Then there was Frank. Actually, she preferred not to think of him at all. What do you even say about a boy who asks you out by saying, “Is it true that all volleyball chicks are dykes, or do I have a shot?”

“What planet are you guys from?” she thought with exasperation.

One Saturday morning while the sun was not yet up to start the day, she’d gotten down to the lake. Dressed in a bikini top, under a flowy white blouse and short jean-shorts, she flip-flopped onto the beach she assumed would be empty. Instead she saw a solitary figure perfectly balanced on one leg his his arm out holding the to of the other leg that was straight out before him. She smiled. It’d been so long since she’d seen him she’d almost forgotten about her stupid little crush. She watched him for a few moments, but decided staring was kind of creepy.

“Hi coach, Klein.”

He let go of his foot and set it down, “Now who in the world would be calling me coach at 5:20 in the AM.” He looked back and greeted her with a smile. “Of course, I should have known. Tricia Walker, I hope I haven’t invaded your spot.”

She smiled a hello and insisted, “Oh no, if anything, this, you, were here first, so it’s me, I’m invading.”

He chuckled, “No problem from me. Come on, enjoy the clean air.” He looked off towards the east where the sun’s light was lightening the sky, warming it up for its grand entrance.

Feeling bold, a tiny part of her wanted to take the blouse off and pose next to him. Maybe see if she could sneak some attention. But that was the old her being silly. Instead she joined him and went into tree pose when he did. They took deep breaths together and awaited the sun.

The water made nary a sound, but it was not silent. Birds began their chirping and the chorus of insects sang their songs off in the distance of the trees. It was peaceful here.

“Breathe that in. Pure cleansing oxygen. Something isn’t it?”

She smiled at him but couldn’t think of anything to say, so she kept quiet.

“Where are my manners, I didn’t say hi to your par-” he looked back and saw no one, “rents.”

“I’m alone.”

He eyed her suspiciously, “How’d you get here. You can’t drive yet.” He stated, but then hesitantly rephrased it as a question, “You can’t drive yet, can you?”

“Yeah, no, I - well, bus. After that it’s only a mile and a half so.”

“Oh. Huh.”

“Coach?”

“I’m not your coach now, kiddo. You can call me by my first name. Mister.”

She chuckled, “Okay Mister Klein.”

He grinned back, “See, we’re so much more casual here and holy hand grenade, you sprouted up haven’t you? Five-eleven? You’re as tall as me.”

“I dunno, I don’t measure.”

“Well,” he said dropping into warrior one pose, “if you’ve been keeping up with your technique, you’ll be a shoe-in for varsity.”

“Oh, are you coaching varsity girls this year?” She hoped her hopefulness had been sufficiently contained. She was trying to stay casual.

He shook his head with a chuckle. “That’s not my turf.”

Together, they moved through a few poses, stretching and strength poses. The sun peaked over the horizon with a green flash and warm orange glow. She stopped in cat pose and stared out at the sunrise.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

She looked at him with a smile, as he stared out at the beauty. “Oh, wait, this is perfect!” She dug out her phone. He watched with a bemused smile as she took a selfie for insta.

He chuckled while she worked the filters, “Got a good selfie?”

“Yeah, one sec,” she put on her best cutesy face and got a couple of extra shots. She looked over at him and asked, “Did I hear a little sarcasm there Mr. Klein?”

“Perish the thought,” he mockingly gasped.

“Think you can do better?” she flopped her phone out to him extended like a challenge.

“If that’s your way of asking for a favor, then maybe I should have spent less time on you spikes and more time on your manners.” Despite his lecturing words, the smile in his tone betrayed his lack of seriousness. He took the phone and asked, “Okay, where is the lens and shutter on this thing?”

She rolled her eyes at him, “Come on, Mr. Klein, you’re not that old.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he stepped back and started framing the shot.

“I didn’t say you were young,” she grinned. He shot her a smiling sneer and she wiggled her eyebrows at him playfully.

“Grumble grumble, whippersnappers, grumble grumble get off my lawn.” She gave him one more eye roll and he gave her a wink, “Alright, let’s see a good strong tall tree.”

Patricia turned away from him and to the rising sun. It’s warmth was just starting to be felt and with it, a kind of joy she hadn’t expected. She raised her foot and tucked it high on her thigh with her hands in prayer. She basked in the attentions of last year’s crush and the new sun rising. She wondered if this moment could just go on forever.

“Wow, that’s a great shot,” his voice was plain and honest.

“Wait, one sec can you take one more?” She turned to face him and he nodded, so she started unbuttoning her blouse. She’d meant to be bold, but by the time she’d gotten down to the third button, she chickened out. Turning around, she took off the flimsy material. It wasn’t much of a covering anyway, and even if she was wearing a bikini top, it felt different. There was something more intimate about undressing in front of someone and it made her feel much more vulnerable than she was expecting. Still, mustering the courage, she dropped it to the side and had her back to him.

“Uh, I. Okay. One more time.”

Again she posed, and after a few moments, settled into it.

“Looks good, looks like we got it.”

She spun around, crossing her arms in front and jogging toward him for a couple of paces. Realizing she should probably just put on her shirt, she stepped one foot back and leaned over to get her discarded top. She scooped it up, leaning way over but not quite tripping and caught herself before rearing back up and slipping it over one arm. The shirt was reluctant to be put to use after such a nice respite, so she fought to get the second arm in, but was finally able to tame the fabric with a little twisting and wrangling.

For his part, Andrew Klein watched the awkward dance of the young girl. He caught himself staring at her bottom as she bent over with those short shorts on. Her legs had shown the results of all the work she’d been putting in, her muscles made curves and duvets that pulled his eyes in. It was only when she’d gotten back up and he saw her youthful face that the full frontal force of guilt hit him. She was just a girl, he reminded himself. But the beautiful image on the phone he held begged to tell a different story. She boasted curves and perfect skin, muscle and balance both silhouetted against the glory of nature’s morning light. Of course, Mr. Klein would be too much of a gentleman to gawk.

“Let me see, let me see, let me see,” Tricia oohed at the pics he’d captured and immediately set about posting one of them on Insta. #yogabae #morningglory #yogaislife #arlenhighvolleyball #nofilter

“I guess it made the cut?”

“One sec,” she asked, still madly mashing the screen. “Mr. Klein, do you insta?”

“Huh?”

“Instagram, do you have an account?”

“Oh, wow, yeah I made one a couple years back. I guess I still have it.”

“Cool, what’s your handle?” She watched him hesitate, “Well, you have to follow my insta, my handle is ************.”

“I have to follow your insta, huh?”

“Yes! It’s NBD, that way you can see the pics you just took, and more importantly, you can give me more likes,” she grinned at him.

He shrugged, “Alright.”

“Perf, oh and make sure you like this as soon as possible. It doesn’t count on old pics, k?”

He sat cross legged in the sand and mused, “I was going to say something about the unselfconsciousness of your work ethic, but-”

“What did you mean by not your turf?” she interjected, cutting off his words.

“What now?”

“Earlier, you said,” she paused to give herself time to sit by him in the sand. “You said that about coaching varsity, What do you mean not your turf?”

“Oh, that,” he shrugged, “There’s a hierarchy to this kind of stuff, mostly driven by seniority. The boys teams, Varsity and JV are both staffed up in coaching, and it’d be very impolitic for me to elbow my way in.”

“But didn’t you win States at central?”

He chuckled, “Didn’t win, but the legend gets better with every telling. Five years ago I took Central High’s Varsity team to states two years running. Not bad, I thought.”

“So, what happened? Why’d you leave central?”

He dropped out of pose and kneeled down in the sand, looking off to the sun.

“Well, I...” he sighed, “Things change.”

“That’s a little cryptic.”

He looked at her positively sunny face and marvelled. She still live under youth’s illusion of the indestructibility. He saw the beauty and fragility and wondered when his late wife had lost that look. He was not the man to burden her with his own worries. “Life ... moves forward.”

She rolled her eyes at him, “Well that clouded that right up.”

“Tell you what, I’ll give you an answer in the form of advice. After you get your driver’s license, always figure out who is going to drive when you go partying. Never drink and drive. There’s just no reason to do it. Not with Uber and all that,” he looked her straight in the eye giving her the instructions. It was his teacher voice, but tinged with an emotion she hadn’t seen from him.

Her eyes fell to the simple band he wore on his left hand. She’d never thought about that before, she never really thought about any of her teachers being married until Mrs. Major. But of course Mr. Klein was married. But he never talked about his wife, and she never came to the games. She felt herself sinking as she put the pieces together.

He saw her face fall into the look of pained sympathy. A look he’d become far too familiar with in the past few years. “Know what? Before this gets too glum for a beautiful sunrise. Let’s just do some ashtanga sunrise sequences and breathe.”

‘Of course he was married,’ she thought, ‘Mr. Klein is so romantic, he probably still wears it because he’s still in love with her.’ The tragedy of their romance that built itself up in her head awed the young girl and swirled her heart so much. “Mr. Klein, I’m so sorry.” She reached out to comfort him.

“None of that. Forget about it, let’s just,” he paused. The look she gave him. He’d gotten to the point where he’d hated it, the very thought of sympathy just prodded him into anger. Yet in her eyes it was soft and loving. That young girl was so earnest in her emotions, he couldn’t help but give her a soft smile, “let’s just enjoy the peace.”

She knew that despite his words, he couldn’t enjoy it and felt guilty for no good reason. Guilty for not paying any attention to him or even getting to know a single thing about him. Guilty for harboring that stupid crush when he was a man who knew what real love and loss were. She lay her hand on his shoulder and he covered her hand in his in silence. His fingers were warm and rough. After a moment, she knelt down next to him and let her hand slip down to join his other hand. She slipped her fingers into his palm and squeezed comfortingly. She wanted to hug him. A tiny part of her wanted to kiss him and maybe take away some of his pain. She studied his face and for the first time felt that she saw him. Their fingers lingered together, longer than a teach and a student’s fingers should reasonably linger together. The sat for minutes in silence. Finally, he looked at the hand, then at her. She gave him a smile and a squeeze and he forced a smile.

“Well,” he got up with a push and popped up, “The beach is all yours, kiddo.”

She watched him walk away with a heavy sadness in her heart. His grey heather t-shirt and khaki cargo shorts might have looked plain and dated on anyone else, but she saw beyond all of that to the man with great love in his heart. She felt okay with her tears for him. Even if he was holding them in, she could shed a few in his stead. Summer sped on by. She played a lot of volleyball in the sand, she met a boy from Brazil and let him kiss her. Vanessa was in awe and Ali was so proud that she called he a little slut (in a good way). But even that first kiss wasn’t the thing that dominated her thoughts. It was a few stolen minutes in the glory of a morning sunrise where rough fingers touched her own soft ones and she’d felt a glimpse of real love.

Sophomore year began, which meant a bunch of different things. For the more ambitious people it meant talking about PSAT’s and other college entrance tests. For Ali it meant she had an audience to show more fascinating TraceItOut videos of outlandish and vaguely racy things. To Tricia it meant volleyball season.

The only real question was: Varsity or JV? It wasn’t much of a question really. With her height and skills, Mr. Klein was right, she’d be a no brainer for varsity. She’d fully intended to let Mrs. Major know at tryouts, until she saw her. Mrs. Major was totally preggers! Her mind went into overdrive. If she was going to go out on leave again, was there a chance that Mr. Klein could take over again? Thoughts of staying late with Mr. Klein tickled her heart and her decision was made. She’d stay JV.

The girls were more than overjoyed to see her back.

For her part, Ali grinned knowingly, “I know why you’re sticking around with us.”

“Oh?” Tricia asked as she pulled on a tight orange and white thin striped polo shirt.

“Yeah, it’s obv. You know I’m the best setter in the state, no, in the world, and you totally need me.”

Tricia giggle, “Yup, you found me out.”

“Dang, see I knew it, hey everyone, I’m the reason she’s staying, so when we win every game, I am expecting a big thank you note, and a teddy bear. And flowers. Oh and chocolate.”

One of the girls shot back, “And some new knee pads.”

“Yes! Thank you Maggie, I should get some new knee pads.”

“Yeah, those kneepads are so old and worn out,” she piled on.

“Bite me, Baylor.”

That got a round of titters, but Ali flipped her short locks and smiled at Tricia. “Yup,” she sighed, “You just can’t quit me. Oh yeah, did you see the latest TraceItOut yet?”

Tricia groaned, “Oh god, what have I done.”

She’d been prescient, and when Mrs. Major when out on maternity, Mr. Klein stepped in again to find a JV team in great shape. Tricia was the team captain and they hadn’t lost a match so far. From all the extra work she’d been putting in, and her growth spurt, Tricia became an imposing figure. She towered over the other girls, and her legs and arms had filled out from all of the jumping and training. She even took some pics of her abs that were hinting at contours to post on insta. On the court, she was to be feared, and on instagram, she got all the likes and heart eyes a girl could want for an ego boost.

She was riding high, no doubt, but hidden behind that was her own heart quietly yearning for the likes of just one follower. Coach Klein had added her on instagram and despite all the oohs and ahs of her classmates (and rando’s), it was the likes from her coach that made her smile the most. Some of her ab shots were a little on the sexy side, but no TOS violations of course. When she’d take those, they were more for him than anyone else. He meticulously liked all of her yoga pics, v-ball pics, and food pics. He didn’t like the ones she put up for him.

Ali called her SMS, short for social media slut, but that was an Ali-ism. Soon enough, Ali got in on it too and helped her with some of the pics. They’d even take duckface pics and flexing pics together to post. #setemupknockemdown #teammates, etc.

Life was pretty perfect. Tricia was a star on the JV squad and she got to spend alone time with the coach after practice. When the rode the bus over to Clifton High, they were ready to bring the pain. Clifton was a perennial Varsity Volleyball power house and since there was no playoffs for JV, this was the championship game in their minds. Clifton had a pair of twins who weren’t that tall but were fast as heck and seemed to be able to dig anything that was in their vicinity. The points were long and the game stayed close. Tricia was still dominating the net despite a few Clifton girls that saw her almost eye to eye. Clifton took the first two sets, finishing at 28-26 and 30-28. The third set, Tricia sat for a moment before going back an in Coach Klein reminded her of a lesson he’d given her back in freshman year. “You tuck your elbow, it’s a tell, they can see which way you’re going to go by how your elbow is turned.” He’d made her practice moving her elbow slightly out no matter which direction she’d be hitting the ball and use it to whip her arm for a little more speed. She already had the muscle memory, it was just a small adjustment.

She made the mental fix.

Ali saw that look on Tricia’s face and got a grin. She whispered, “Alright SMS, time to carry this whole damn team, you and me.”

Tricia just nodded. No more words, time for action. Like magic, the twins didn’t have her number. She caught them flat footed over and over, and even on defense, Tricia seemed to be everywhere, cutting off angles so her teammates could get easy digs. Ali was a possessive beast about every second hit, even sliding on her old knee pads to get there. The girls from Arlen High were on a tear taking the next two sets, 25-14 and 25-17.

The comeback was unstoppable, and some of the Clifton girls were losing a step and spending extra time getting their breath back after each rally. In fact, everyone seemed to be showing signs of fatigue, except Tricia. Clifton set up a strong return, but Tricia spotted it an elevated into the air for a massive block that brought the parents in the the crowd onto their feet. Exhausted, the girl who’d gone up tumbled under the net into Tricia’s legs as she landed. Her foot pinned, Tricia doubled over forward folding almost completely in half and cried out as she fell and whipped back. The Clifton girl got up, but Tricia was slow to rise from the floor. Her hamstring was stabbing in pain. Ali was first to her side, but stubbornly, Tricia pushed herself to sitting for a moment before taking her friend’s hand to stand. Her teammates’ hearts were in their throats, but coach Klein called time and went to her to check her out as she limped off the court. The court had quieted down to the occasional word of encouragement.

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