Chapter 2: Breaking Stride

October arrived with heavy, gray skies, and the world seemed to be sulking. Lincoln High’s cross-country trails turned into a muddy mess. My sneakers kept slipping, my legs burned, and my lungs screamed.

Lauren’s voice cut through the cold. “Push, Harper! Find your fire!”

Our team was scrappy, but we had a lot of heart and hustle. Our “Yay Team!” chants echoed like war cries. Coach Blaze had us believing we could beat Jefferson High. She pushed us hard. We did killer hill sprints and fartlek runs that left us gasping.

We laughed over burnt marshmallows at the team bonfire. Mike’s puns were terrible as always. Sarah’s smirks and sarcasm cut through the noise, but my mind wasn’t on the team. I could only think about Lauren. Her radiant hair was like a wildfire in my brain. Her smile messed with my focus.

I was eighteen and had just tasted the pleasure of intimacy. I was a hormonal mess. Lauren Tate was my obsession. Her black tights hugged her runner’s thighs as if they were painted on. Her Lincoln High tee clung to her toned body in a way that made my brain short-circuit. I couldn’t stop staring when she ran with us. My eyes flickered between her swinging stopwatch and her bouncing curves. “Move, Danny!” Her shout sent my pulse racing.

Lauren was showing a calf stretch. Her tights slid up, revealing freckled skin. My mouth went dry.

Mike caught me staring during stretches one day. “Dude, you’re drooling,” he grinned.

“Piss off,” I muttered. He just laughed.

Lauren was a storm in my head. I was completely caught in it with no will to escape.

It wasn’t just her looks that got me hot and bothered. Lauren actually saw me. She would nudge my shoulder during cool-downs. She’d say things like, “You’re stronger than you think, Danny.” Her bright green eyes would find mine. It felt like more than just coach talk.

I started staying after practice. I’d grab cones or ask about race splits. Anything to steal a minute with her. She never shooed me away. Her gaze sparked something wild in me.

One chilly afternoon, she found me at the water cooler. Her windbreaker was unzipped. It showed a strip of toned stomach. That sight hit me hard. “Danny, your stride’s solid. Want to smooth it out?” Her eyes had a glint. It was like she was up to something. I was already the fastest on the team. But extra time with Coach Blaze? Absolutely.

“Count me in, Coach,” I said. I tried not to grin like an idiot.

We met in the old gym. The bleachers creaked. The air smelled like sweat and pine cleaner. The lights buzzed annoyingly. Lauren put me through drills. She was all business. “Feel this?” she said. She pressed her hand to my hip. Her fingers were warm through my shorts. “You’re so tight. Loosen up.” Her touch was completely professional. But my body didn’t get the message. Heat shot through me. I shifted, praying she didn’t notice what was happening. She squeezed my shoulder. Her voice was low. “Good work, Danny. Same time tomorrow.”

At night, “Master of Puppets” blasted through my Walkman. I had found a dog-eared romance novel in my dad’s closet. It was about a soldier and a nurse. They were in a supply room. She was guiding him, bold and slow. It really messed with my head. I imagined Lauren in the dark. Her green eyes dared me. It was totally teenage insanity, but I was hooked.

Those sessions were pure torture. Her hands fixed my form. Her breath tickled my ear when she explained things. A week into the session, and I could not hold back my feelings anymore.

“You said I owe you one, coach,” I reminded her.

Her eyes settled on me for a few seconds before a sly smile broke on her lips. She leaned against the mats. Her legs parted slightly to show her tight shorts.

“You’re curious,” she said. Her hand trailed down to her hips, teasing the hem of her shorts. “Show me.” She tugged her shorts off.

My breath caught as I looked at her blue lace panties with a hint of wetness. My body stirred again.

I knelt between her legs. My heart was pounding hard. The concrete floor was cold against my knees, but that did not bother me. Her musky scent hit me hard. I started kissing her thighs. Her freckled skin was warm against my lips.

“Go on,” she whispered. Her hand caressed my hair.

I moved higher. My tongue brushed against the wet patch on her lace. I tasted salt and heat and something new.

She moaned at the contact. Her legs opened wide for me.

I tugged a finger in the lace and pulled it aside. Her glistening pink folds winked at me. My finger brushed along her wet pussy lips. They were slick and warm.

I licked hesitantly, unsure of what to do. Her gasps guided me as my tongue grew bolder. I opened my lips and kissed her wet lips in an open kiss.

Her fingers tightened in my hair. Her breath came in quick gasps. “Yes ... like that,” she whimpered.

I pushed my tongue in her pussy lips. Her thighs trembled as I probed deeper. I took my time to feel her reactions. She groaned as my nose brushed her clit. I ran my tongue deeper in her pussy while circling her clit with my nose.

Her moans were sharp. “Oh god ... right there ... don’t stop...”

I slid a finger inside along with my tongue. She was tight. The sketchy book from my dad’s drawer had given me some ideas. I curled my finger inside her pussy. Her loud cry and jerking hips told me I had nailed it.

Her nails dug into my shoulder. Her body tensed up. “You’re ... too good,” she panted. It was half-laughing, half-moaning.

I looked up at her. Her green eyes were wild, her hair was a mess, and her face was flushed. I went harder against her core. My tongue started lapping up her juices. I added another finger in the mix. My fingers moved deeper to stretch her tight walls as I kept curling them while pulling back.

Her body shook hard. She came with a muffled cry. Her thighs squeezed around my head to trap me in place. Her warmth coated my lips.

I opened my mouth and started lapping it all up. I did not let go and continued moving my fingers inside her.

She pressed my head hard against her wetness. I could feel her muscles going stiff as another blast of her love juices coated my lips.

Her body went limp as she pushed my head back. “Stop ... No more...”

I sat up and wiped my chin. She pulled me into a kiss. It was hard and desperate. Her tongue probed my mouth boldly, tasting her own juices on me.

“Damn, Harper,” she murmured. Her hand pulled my shorts down. She gripped my hard cock and tugged at it a few times. “You’re full of surprises.” She stroked my cock. Her eyes were full of a dare.

“I want more...” I dared.

She looked me in the eye. Then she looked at her own wetness. “Not there ... not yet,” she said. She swallowed my cock in one go.

I hoped that I would last longer this time, but all my thoughts were lost as her throat tightened around my length. She gripped my ass cheeks as she started moving her mouth over my cock.

“Lauren—damn...” I grunted. The pressure built. Her eyes were locked on mine, and I lost it. The world darkened around me as my pleasure peaked. She swallowed it all.

She was grinning at me as my vision returned. “Clean up,” she asked.

I wiped her thighs with a rag. Her skin was smooth and warm. I tried to get close to her pussy again, but she swatted my hand away.

“Not now, and remember, this is our secret.” She whispered.

The practice meet against Jefferson was electric. The stands were packed with parents and kids. They were yelling loudly. Lauren paced the sidelines. Her red windbreaker glowed under the floodlights. Her auburn hair looked like a sunset.

“This is our dirt!” she shouted.

We roared “Yay Team!” before racing down the course.

Mud pulled at my sneakers, a hill tore at my calves, but I ran like I was chasing her. My rhythm clicked. My legs flew. I crossed first, getting my best time ever. The team swarmed me.

Sarah’s high-five stung. Mike tackled me. “You beast!” he yelled. My chest was heaving.

Then Lauren jogged up, her eyes blazing. She hugged me. Her body was warm. Her peppermint-floral scent hit me like a drug.

“That’s my star,” she whispered. Her breath tickled my ear. My heart forgot how to beat.

The team headed to the lockers. They were all rowdy and shoving, but I stayed behind. I faked a stretch by the bleachers.

Lauren was packing her clipboard. Her windbreaker was open and her tee hugged her curves. “You crushed it, Danny,” she said without looking up. Her hair fell forward. “Keep that fire. We’re going to state.”

“Couldn’t do it without you, Coach,” I said. I kept my voice steady but my pulse was racing.

She glanced up. A small smile played on her lips. “Flattery won’t get you out of sprints.” Her eyes softened. “Come to my office. Let’s go over splits.”

My stomach flipped. The school was dark. The hallways echoed. Her office was a tiny room off the gym. She locked the door behind us. The lights hummed along the tension in the room.

She leaned on her desk. Her tights were stretched over her thighs. She flipped her clipboard. “You’re hitting 5:35 miles. But you tense up late. Relax your shoulders. You’ll shave a second.”

I nodded but my eyes were on her hands. Her fingers brushed her hair. Her collarbone showed under her tee.

She sighed. “This job’s tough, Danny. Everyone expects perfection. Sometimes I miss running. Just me and the trail, no pressure.” Her green eyes met mine. They were raw and real. She wasn’t Coach Blaze, just Lauren. A flicker of worry crossed her face.

I stepped closer. “You’re messing up my runs, Coach. I can’t focus with you out there.”

Her lips twitched. “Messing you up how, Harper?” Her tone was teasing but her eyes dared me.

I closed the distance between us. Her scent filled my lungs. “You. Your voice. Your legs. It’s all I see.”

Lauren didn’t pull away. Her expression was a mix of desire and fear. “That’s dangerous, Danny,” she said. Her hand grazed mine on the desk. Her fingers were shaking slightly. “You know why.”

The unspoken words hung in the air: You’re a student. I’m your coach. This is wrong.

I don’t know who moved first but suddenly we were kissing. Her lips tasted like peppermint. Her tongue tangled with mine. Her nails dug into my shoulders as I lifted her onto the desk. Papers flew everywhere. Her legs wrapped around my waist.

My hands slid under her tee. Her skin was hot as I felt her breasts. My fingers grazed her nipples.

She moaned softly but she pulled back. Her face was flushed. Her green eyes were wide with a mix of longing and panic. “Danny, this is crazy. We can’t.” Her hands stayed on me, as if glued. Her eyes looked torn. “Someone could come in. My job. Everything...”