Captain Zim
Copyright© 2025 by Gina Marie Wylie
Chapter 13
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 13 - David Zimmerman is your average high school junior, a bookish sort with average everything — except athletic ability. He can't throw or hit, swims like a turtle and has wimpy muscles. He was chosen last for every sport in elementary school — when he was chosen at all. His life changed when he kicked a field goal squarely between the uprights, then it changed again the next time he was in a ball game
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft Consensual Fiction
Tasha grinned at me, “Practicing your English?”
I wanted to whack myself on the forehead. The only time I’d ever heard an accent from Tasha earlier was when she was talking about practicing my English; this time, no accent.
“I did,” I said, smiling. “I’m glad I’m better at that than at figuring out a joke because I just realized what you mean.”
She turned towards me a bit more; she was wearing thigh-length white shorts and a black T-shirt, with five Olympic rings over her heart, and underneath them, a volleyball. By turning, I could see more, which was the short little word ‘COACH’ on the right side.
“I, Zim, am the coach. It is my job to see people practice what they need to practice. It is never a joke.”
She looked serious, and I decided that evidently, it wasn’t a joke. Tasha waved away from the party. “Come, walk with me.”
I considered if it was okay to leave CC alone. I could see her sitting between Sean and Diane, having a good time. None of them seemed in the least interested in me.
So, we walked along the beach, this time away from the piers that had been so much of yesterday. History, I thought, as we walked in silence.
We kept walking and walking; eventually, I was getting a little nervous; we’d come something like a mile. At that point, we were at a spot well away from two adjoining hotels; perhaps a quarter of a mile away from each. The beach was dark; the only sound was the surf, just a few inches high, rolling onto the beach.
“Did you really practice?” Tasha asked, stopping.
I turned to her. “I did. I’m presenting the teams a conundrum. If I’m on your side, you win. If I’m on the other side, you lose. Let’s just say that some feelings are running a little high.”
“Tomorrow, Zim. Tomorrow is another day. I will bring some friends; we will have a little challenge. All of you, versus all of us.”
I laughed. “I hope you beat the pants off us!”
“We will,” she said, grinning. “We will. But a challenge is a challenge. You never know...” She waved back down the beach. “You aren’t the only good player here.”
“Tasha, I can serve. I’m not much good at defense.”
She shrugged. “I too can serve and am good at it. We have people on the team who specialize in spikes, in digging out spikes, all sorts of specialists. Yet, they have to be adequate everywhere else, because at this level of competition, you just have to be at least adequate.
“Zim, you would be surprised what you can learn. Really, trust me. You are a normal, healthy young man.”
“I’m told I don’t have the extension I should.”
She looked at me, grinned. “We can work on that. Odds are better than average you will see improvement. Zim, defense is nice. Being able to spike the ball is nice. Far, far better is to have those specialists standing around with nothing to do because the other team couldn’t return the serve. You have a knack, Zim. A real knack.
“So, unless you have a bad day Thursday, you will be surprised.”
“I tell myself that the worst that can happen is that I will come back, having tried out for the team. Frankly, it’s something I never dreamed of or even imagined. It’s an even wilder dream that something could come of it.”
“Dream, then,” Tasha said, moving in front of me. She came close, standing just a few inches away from me. I looked into her eyes, calm, steady, and green. Geez, she looks like she’s Diane’s age! How did she do that? Because she had to be older.
“Coaches train athletes. We motivate them,” Tasha said softly. “Each person is different: coach and athlete. No two coaches will train someone the same. Motivation?” She laughed softly. “Motivation is different for everyone. What works on one doesn’t interest someone else at all.”
She put her arms around my neck, pulled me gently down to her lips; we kissed. It wasn’t a barn burner kiss like with Diane last night or this morning, but it was a solid kiss.
After a bit, she pulled back, looking up at me. “Do you have a girlfriend, Zim?”
I shook my head. “Not really.”
“I have a boyfriend, and he would not understand this.” She laughed a bit harshly. “I’m not entirely sure I understand either. But today, watching you, I felt...” She kissed me hard, this time her tongue speared into my mouth, and it was a kiss that raised the temperature of my libido a million degrees. “This is what I felt...” Her hands ran down my back, over my butt, then dug in, pulling me towards her.
Again, now I know these things are cosmic, accidents of anatomy; but we fit together perfectly. My erection cradled against her pussy perfectly, for all that she was three inches shorter than me; did I mention that Tasha had really long legs? Oh yeah!
I’m not sure what happened in the next few minutes, but we were lying together, naked on the beach. My hands were running over her small breasts, her very tiny breasts. Breasts that when touched set Tasha to moaning soft cries of pleasure. We moved against each other, our bodies frantic. On one of those moves, I slid against her, feeling her pubic hair against my erection, then a smooth golden feeling; like my erection was wrapped in a cocoon of silk.
I froze, stunned. My God, I was in her! We were doing it! Making love!
“Tasha,” I whispered, more scared than I’ve ever been. It was too nice, I couldn’t stop moving against her. “I don’t want to get you pregnant.”
She smiled at me, reached up with an index finger against my mouth, and shushed me. “Don’t worry, Zim. When was the last time you ever heard of an Olympic athlete getting pregnant? Trust me, we have ways.” She kissed me lightly. “Damn few guys, Zim, at any time would give a shit about birth control, much less at a moment like this.” We were still moving together, and I was slowly losing control.
Then Tasha lifted against me, hot, hard, striving against me, and I moved that way against her, and the world vanished in a haze, punctuated at the end by Tasha wrapping her long legs behind my back and pulling me tightly against her. I came, emptying myself into her. Tasha in turn moaned, sighed, and locked me in a solid embrace that felt like I was being wrapped in steel bands.
I felt her tremble, then relax. “God, I want that again!” she said, holding me tight. I started to move against her, more than willing. Instead, Tasha giggled, did something, and I popped out. She looked up at me, the same soft eyes CC and Diane had had this morning.
“Beyond good, Zim! Beyond good!” She sighed and touched my cheek with her fingers. “But a good coach is always aware of the venue.” She reached down, picked up a handful of sand, and let it trickle away. “Right now, there is a little of this in the works; maybe that’s what made it so good. But if we do it again here ... I would be a cripple for weeks; Steve would notice. I, I ... I’m not sure that would be good. God, this was good...”
She bounced her belly against mine. “Up,” she commanded in a whisper, and I stood, aware of my leaking dick, now soft and drooling. I leaned down and helped her up. Tasha held my hand and pulled me towards the water. In a few seconds, we were in waist-deep water, the small waves hardly noticeable, but effective enough washing away the traces of our spend.
She looked up at me, her eyes soft but grave. “I want you,” she whispered softly. “I don’t care about anything else. This isn’t coach bull shit, this is me talking.” She tapped herself on the chest. I stared at her bare breasts. I was breathless and hard again. And I’d thought CC and Diane were beautiful!
“Thursday, afterwards. Tell your parents I’ll bring you back.”
I sighed. “I think they’re going to want to watch.”
Tasha giggled. “Us? No chance! Watch a tryout? Not in their lifetimes; that was never going to happen.” She ran her hands over my butt, pulling me against her. “At this level, they take everything into account; even a coach getting the hots for an athlete. I can’t be your formal coach, but I’ll be close. And I’ll whisper in your ear a lot, loosen you up before matches.”
She leaned close, her tongue swirled around my ear. In spite of being in the water, I was harder than I could ever remember being. Tasha grinned at me, put her arms around me, and hopped up. I put my arms around her to hold her, and again I was inside her, moving.
I was surprised the ocean didn’t boil; I was certainly a cauldron of hormones before I finally came again. And Tasha had come not once, but twice more. “God, Zim!” she said with a laugh, putting her feet back down on the bottom of the ocean, pulling away from me. “I don’t know what to say.”
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