Mural
Twelve

Copyright© 2012 to Elder Road Books

Romantic Sex Story: Twelve - Freshman art student Tony finds out what it's like to be on the other side of the easel when his crush asks him to pose for her final project. Love and sex could save him from depression, but he's still falling behind and hates school. Can his racquetball mentor offer more? Slow start. Sex is integral to the story, but so are racquetball and art. The story is about the characters.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Polygamy/Polyamory   First   Oral Sex   Slow   School  

“IT’S ALWAYS GOOD to get feedback from your peers. What did your friends think of your new status?” In spite of me blowing off our meeting, Dean Peterson didn’t seem upset with me. He was casually eating his sandwich and drinking an iced tea while we talked.

“I haven’t told anyone.”

“Does that mean you still aren’t sure that you want to take this opportunity?”

“No sir. I do want to take advantage of this and I want to thank you for considering me. I just haven’t had a chance to talk to anyone except my coach since we spoke. I had a lot of ... well, I didn’t respond too well when I met Mr. Jacobson and John Gilbert at the club. I was feeling pressured and sort of blew up at them. I haven’t been able to talk to Mr. Jacobson since to apologize, but I did start training with John. I’m hoping the school will still consider me for this program.”

“Tony, that was well-said. You do need to apologize to Sam, though I think he understood what was going on. I warned him that it was too soon to approach you, but he was so enthused that he wanted to go right over and watch you practice. Nothing has changed regarding the offer, but I needed to hear from you that you accept.”

“I accept, sir. I won’t let you down.”

“Tony, have you been to student counseling services?” I looked at Dean Peterson.

“I’m not crazy, Dean. I just got a little upset is all. Lissa helped me see what was going on.”

“Then you are aware that over half of the incoming freshman population suffers from the same things that you have been? Loneliness, depression, feelings of inadequacy, stress, isolation.”

“How do you know I felt all that?” I suspected Lissa had talked to him and it pissed me off a little. She had no right to discuss what I told her in confidence.

“Like I said, over half ... I could list symptoms one after another and even plot on a calendar within a week when students would feel them. I’m not minimizing it or suggesting that your problems are typical. It affects each student differently, some more than others. I’m only suggesting that there are people here who would listen to you and understand. They might even help. It’s up to you, of course.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll make an appointment.”

“Don’t forget to write it in your calendar and then look at it.” He smiled at me. “By the way, you mentioned Lissa. I wasn’t sure, but I assume you mean Coach Grant.”

“Yes sir. I’ve known her for quite a while before she was my coach. Is it improper to refer to her by her first name now?”

“Possibly when you are at a competition. People should know your relationship is a coaching one.” He breathed a sigh, shook his head a little, and then went on. “Tony, I don’t mean to pry, but do you have more of a relationship with Miss Grant than just friends and fellow athletes?” I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to get Lissa in trouble, but I had a hard time just lying to the Dean about it.

“Sir?”

“Okay. I’ll withdraw the question. Relationships between faculty and students are frowned upon and faculty members risk their jobs if they become involved with a student. I get pretty protective of students in that regard. And it is my student that I am concerned about here. However, Coach Grant is not a faculty member. The college does not pay her. Nor does SCU. She’s a volunteer and a well-known member of the athletic community. Since she is still quite a young woman, I will not pretend to monitor your relationship. But be careful, Tony. It’s not unusual for athletes to worship their coaches. Just track how many Olympic athletes are married to their coaches. Make sure you are making choices based on what you want and not on what a beautiful woman can convince you to do. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“You are still very formal with me. I used to play a little racquetball myself, you know. I wouldn’t mind coming down to the club to volley with you some time if you don’t mind. I’ll wait until after the Intercollegiate, though.”

“Thank you, sir. I’d be happy to play you some day.”


“Tony, take Melody onto the court and work with her on her backhand for a while. I want to see the ball in motion, but you two need to talk. Don’t get wild. Now go.” Lissa summarily sent us into the racquetball court and plopped down outside to start stretching.

I served to Melody’s backhand and she swung wildly.

“It’s the same as a forehand swing,” I said. “Just not quite as powerful. When you bring the racquet back, concentrate on keeping it perpendicular to the floor. The tendency is to let it drift down at an angle. Then when you swing you don’t have as much surface area ready to meet the ball. Try it again.” I served again and the next time she made contact. I lobbed two more to her. Her returns were becoming more dependable.

“Why did you go to Lissa without me?” The question came just before I served and I couldn’t answer until she’d returned it and the echo died.

“I was really upset. I blew up at some people who were really important and Lissa calmed me down. We went to her house to cool down and talk.” Serve. Return.

“Couldn’t you talk to me?”

“Lissa was a part of what I was upset about. I couldn’t even see straight when she took me out of the club.” Serve. Return.

“The stuff with the Dean? Are you in trouble, Tony?”

“Not exactly. But it was so overwhelming I didn’t know what to do.” Serve. Return.

I stopped and turned toward Melody before she could ask her next question and just shook my head. She waited.

“I wanted to tell you Thursday morning when I saw you. Then I realized how badly I messed things up. So I haven’t told anyone. I was waiting for you. The school has given me an opportunity to earn a double degree in a new program with SCU,” I said. “And they want me to play in the National Intercollegiate Racquetball Championships next month. I know I should have been shouting and screaming and rushing to tell you, but all I could see on Wednesday was more stress and pressure. I’ve hated college ever since I got here. Lissa talked me down after I blew up at SCU’s athletic director and helped me see that it wasn’t really about college. Until you and I got together, I felt so alone I couldn’t stand it. And then Lissa was a part of what we had and I never thought about being with her as separate from being with you. I wasn’t trying to cut you out and I didn’t think of it as cheating because I can’t think of life without both of you. I’m still so confused I can hardly breathe when I talk about it. Melody, I love you and I love Lissa. Does that make me some kind of freak?”

 
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