Six Foot Wrong Romance
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2018 by Not Late Kate

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - 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  

Nicknames are pretty tough when you’re growing up. They can vary from nonsensical, to on the nose, and often can be pretty mean. Whether it was Pa-Tree-sha, Six-foot Patty, or the classic Beanpole, Patricia Walker’s nicknames always centered around her height. An early bloomer, she shot up to 5’5” by freshman year in High School and kept right on growing. With her family’s genetics she figured she’d probably end up reaching her nickname’s stature soon enough. Between classes, she bobbed above her classmates like bouy in the freshman sea. It made her very easy to spot which made the possibility of playing hooky less likely.

It also caught the eye of Ms. Melinta, the biology teacher and girls JV volleyball coach. It didn’t take much to get her to join the JV team, and she was instantly a starter. Awkward at first, Patty showed a lot of heart, and steadily improved technically.

Over the year, Tricia felt somewhat normal for the first time. Despite her penchant for being a bit of a spaz, with the girls of JV and varsity volleyball, she felt like a part of something. Little by little she felt herself growing into her own body. Sometimes she still felt gangly, but looking in the mirror, she started to see the statuesque woman with dirty blonde hair and curves developing.

“Oh my god, look who discovered a butt!” Alicia snarked taking a break from combing out her towel dried locks.

Tricia could have pruned her face at Ali, but she was too taken with the curve she was seeing in the mirror, “I know right,” she giggled, “I’m like Christina Columbus,” she planted an imaginary flag on her panty covered bottom, “I have discovered booty!”

Alicia rolled her eyes.

“Arr, I be a pirate hoarding that thar booty!”

“Okay, six FP, come on, get dressed, we have a victory celebration to go to and coach wants us to get together for another pep talk or something.”

“Didn’t we, like, win?”

“Ladies, quit yammering and let’s move,” Roshondra barked out. She was captain of the team, a sophomore, and absolutely going to be on Varsity next year. She was also strongly politically opinionated and very bossy.

Patricia complained, “But ... Butt”, she pointed at her booty and made puppy dog eyes.

Roshonda chuckled, “Put some jeans on that thang and move it.”

Patricia grinned and broke out into repetitive rendition, “I like to move it, move it!”

Alicia exclaimed, “Oh god not this again!”

The captain fixed her second afro puff and threatened, “Patty, if you get that song stuck in my head again there’s gonna be problems.”

Patty made a sour face at that, but stopped dancing and shaking her butt and grabbed her jeans. But it was so catchy, she decided it wouldn’t hurt to just whisper hum it to herself while she got dressed.

The girls met at the front of the locker room with Ms Melinta. Patricia was only halfway paying attention.

“ ... I’ll be gone for 4 weeks, which means I’m going to miss the rest of the season. But don’t worry, you’re going to be covered just fine. Especially since we’re doing so well this season because of all your hard work.”

“And the beanpole,” someone added and Ali and a couple other girls whooped and patted Patty on the shoulders.

Ms. Melinta smiled, “Yes, we’ve got some really talented women on this team - that makes us good. But technique, sweat, and love make is what makes us great. To that end, I want to introduce you to your interim coach, outside.”

They walked outside to reveal, “Mr. Klein. He’s an excellent volleyball coach, he’s coached the boys team at Central all the way to state, he’s got the technique, so make use of him. This is a brilliant opportunity. Any questions, ladies?”

It was a short moment, maybe a few seconds at most, but to Patricia Walker it felt like forever. Mr. Klein smiled, tall and handsome, with a thick head of hair that looked like something out of a primetime drama, and eyes that glinted mirth. For a moment, her heart leapt into her throat and she stopped humming or hearing any music. She saw him, Mister Klein.

Alicia raised her hand. “Go ahead Alicia,” Ms. Melinta called on her.

“What’s your name going to be when you get back?”

Ms. Melinta heaved a sigh, but it was a question she’d been expecting. “Yes, the rumors are true, this is going to be my honeymoon. When I get back, I’m going to be Mrs. Major.”

“Aww...” The girls cooed one by one into an avalanche of appreciation before they all surrounded her and hugged her.

Patty joined in the hug fest a tad late and still a little shook. She couldn’t say why Mr. Klein’s presence hit her so, but it had and she made sure to hide it as best she could. No, she wasn’t going to be a cliche, she promised herself. Schoolgirl with a crush? No, that wasn’t her.

Later on, in Alicia’s mom was giving the pair a ride home. Much to her mother’s chagrin Alicia jumped in the back to chat with Patricia about a variety of nonsense. Patricia’s mind was stuck on the new coach.

“Ali, do you think it’s, I dunno weird?”

“Chase and Joanne? No, I think their perf!”

“No, I mean, you know, having a guy coach. I mean, is he going to come into the locker room?”

“Eww, no!”

“That’d be weird right?”

“No way, he’ll just be out in the gym and besides, we still have Ms J,” she was the assistant coach from the varsity team who was going to help out with JV while Coach Melinta was out.

“Oh, right.”

“Are you kidding, if we had a coach who was going to be perving on us my mom would be freaking.”

“What was that honey?” her mom had on some podcast as was hardly paying attention.

“Just talking about the new coach, Mom.”

“Oh, okay. What do you think, do you like him?”

“Just met him, Mom.”

Patricia bit her lip. Ali always seemed so put upon by her mother. She wanted to ask if Ali thought he was cute. Of course doing so would make it obvious that she thought he was cute, except she didn’t think that he was cute, she was just curious if Ali thought ... She stayed quiet.

“You know what’s weird?” Ali perked up.

“What?”

“Check this out,” she grinned sharing her phone.

“Oh God is this another TraceItOut video? Am I going to hurl?”

“Just watch!”

TraceItOut was a YouTube star who made her mark doing gross challenges that even some of the boy stars wouldn’t touch. She gave a whole speech on being safe, and that a lot of viewers expressed concern that she wasn’t being safe. So today’s video was going to be all about safety. When she pulled out the Magnum condom, Patricia groan, “Are you serious? The condom challenge? Isn’t that like old now?”

“No, no, no, just watch.”

The young YouTube starlet managed to squeeze her fist into the condom. “Tada! See, now you’re ready for some safe fun, like this!”

“Ew ... Ow, how? Huh, okay, that’s odd. What?” Patricia watched in growing disgust and amazement as the girl fit her entire fist into her mouth wrapped in the condom and all. “Why are you even making me watch this?”

“I know right, she’s crazy!”

“But what does this even have to do with anything?!”

TraceItOut banged her elbow on the table in a struggle to get her fist out of her mouth. Her head bobbed in an obscene motion.

“She’s totally going to choke!”

“I know, it’s so badass!”

“Ugh!!”

“Like literally, I don’t even know why we’re friends, I mean not really, but really, what the eff was that?”

“She’s so boss.”

Ali’s mom yelled out from the front, “Can you girls keep it down, I’m trying to listen to-” she gave up and mumbled to herself, “really important current affairs that you all should probably know about by now.”

“Sorry mom!”

Back home, Patricia curled up in bed with her phone. Chase had a story up on snap, but mostly it was pics on insta. She made sure to give the likes and the heart-eyes, but her heart wasn’t in it. She thought about Mr. Klein. When he was their age, he was probably thinking about 9-11 and the Iraq war. Automatically, she looked him up on Facebook. A broad smile grew on her face as she saw his profile picture, Mr. Klein and his doggy standing by a creek. He had a big smile on his face and he and the dog were both drenched. Guess they’d been on a trail run gone amok. Her finger hovered over the add friend button. Would that be weird? She’d only just gotten the account last year and he’d be her first non-family adult friend. She chickened out and closed the laptop.

“Patricia Walker?” At their first practice, while the girls were doing b-s-s drills, the new coach was taking time and talking to each girl individually.

“It’s Patty, or six foot Patty, or Beanpole, or, you know whatever, really, I even go by sfp.”

He frowned, “Beanpole? You know I think I like Tricia for you. You okay with that?”

She nodded with a blush but he didn’t notice, since he was looking at his clipboard. He looked up, “That alright, Tricia?”

She smiled breathlessly, “Oh yeah, that’s fine.”

“Great, Mrs. Major left some notes, and I checked out some videos of the last few games, if you’re up to it I have some suggestions that’ll help you with the balance issues,” he looked up, “Are you willing?”

Her heart thumped. Even Alicia noticed her deer in the headlights look. “Oh god, you drip, don’t be so embarrassed. Of course she’s up for your suggestions, coach.”

Tricia stammered, then nodded.

“This isn’t to do in practice, but after, I want you doing a set of balance poses. It’s yoga, but don’t freak out, these should help you get started. I do this with all my boys who hit a real growth spurt. Sometimes the brain needs a little time to catch up to the body.” He gave her a smile and patted her on the shoulder then tore off a strip of paper with a series of weird names and phrases.

Mr. Klein really was a great resource. After getting to know the girls in the first practice, he turned into a total hardass. Those four weeks felt more like training camp than high school. In addition to the regular drills, bump drills, set drills, and spiking, he also had them doing intense plyometrics.

He called practice to a close sending most of the girls streaming into the locker room, but Patricia didn’t follow in. She picked up her phone and the sheet of paper underneath with the list of poses.

“Good practice today, Patricia.”

She smiled and nodded, “Thanks coach.”

He was already heading off when she realized it was just the two of them. She bit her lip as silly thoughts floated by of missed opportunities. Patty shook them off and focused back on the poses. She found images of a few of them and started trying them out, first with the simplest, Tree pose.

It was quiet in the gym. An odd transformation from the constant echos and high pitched yelling she’d usually hear. And the satisfying resonance of the sound when the ball hit the floor on a good spike. She smiled at that. But now, she could hear her own breathing. A little unnerved by it, she decided to run suicides instead.

She didn’t see him come back by. He walked by the double doors and spied her through the wired glass door. He nodded in appreciation of her effort. Half an hour after practice had ended, and there the tallest girl in the squad was running suicides. The girl who probably had the least to work on was putting in the most work. That was a motivated young lady. Hard to find that in a freshman and with that height. It was a joy to have a girl with that work ethic and raw talent. Hell, part of him wanted to take her heart and stick it into one of his senior boys. He decided not to bother her, “When they do good, get out of the way.”

The days seemed to move faster for everyone on the team. The girls were so beat by the end of practices that many of them would go straight home and nap. Come game time, though, they were fierce.

Three and a half week passed on and in the last week in, Patricia had stayed late to work on yoga again. This time, Mr. Klein saw her and something inside him compelled through the door and not past it.

“Hey there Tricia how’s it going.”

She looked over from where her pose, she’d had one long stem of a leg on the floor extended, holding her up while the other had been wavering trying to extend back. Her right hand reached toward the ground to try to touch it with her finger tips while her left arm had made an effort to extend upward, but kept flailing to help her keep balance. Seeing him, her heart fluttered and her young body tensed, curling her leg back and throwing her balance back so she collapsed onto her butt. She crumpled down so only her pride was hurt, “Oof, hi Coach Klein.”

“You look like you’re having a little trouble there. Want a hand?”

“Uhm,” she blushed fiercely picturing him posing her body with his strong hands. It was a sudden abrupt change in her thoughts, but she pushed it away. “What did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking you might need a little more stretch before you go for that one. Follow my lead.” He set his briefcase down, dusted off his hands and offered her a hand up. She took it and popped up next to him. Instead of putting guiding her like she’d pictured, he split his leg straight forward like a straight knee position before a lunge.

“Before you get to half moon, let’s make sure you can triangle, and before you triangle, let’s make sure you have a good side stretch. Match me real quick.”

She followed his lead suddenly very impressed. He had given her a simple list, and she figured he’d read it off the internet of something while looking up how to handle girls. But she could tell by the smooth efficiency of his motion, the calm steady deliberate nature of his motion that he was practiced in this art. He was even more flexible than she was, and he was old!

“You may not be able to go down all the way to flat against your leg. I can’t either, but that’s cause I have a middle age belly. But that’s not the point. Point here is to feel that good stretch, a nice burn right up in here. You feel it?” He patted his own inner thigh to indicate.

“Yes coach.”

For the next twenty minutes, he talked her through where she should push and where to relax. How to breathe out slowly and how to center herself. By the end of it, she was ready to try half moon pose.

“Focus,” he told her, “relax, take the tension out of your shoulders, that’s not doing anything. Breathe in, good. Now exhale and focus on your leg muscles, think straight, strong, balanced, perfect, beautiful. There.”

Patricia beamed, holding her breath and the pose. The word exploded in fireworks with her mind. ‘Beautiful.’ She dropped out of the pose, and popped up squealing in joy. “Was it good? DId I do it right? Did you see? Coach, was that it?”

He nodded with a warm smile, “Yes, yes, and yes. Keep that up, it’s good stuff.”

“Totally, wow, so like, how did you get into all this stuff?”

“I played a little collegiate sport back in the day. But really, it’s all about maintenance. I find yoga is the best way to prevent injury or recover when you do get hurt. Helps center the mind too.”

She looked at him with wide sining eyes. She felt like she should be looking up at him, but standing straight he was only a few inches taller than her. It wouldn’t matter if next year she was taller than him, he’d still be bigger than life.

“It’s getting late, you ought to head on home. You can do a lot of this stuff at home too, no need to stay here late.”

She shrugged, “Yeah, I guess.”

He walked her back to the locker room, stepping in silence. The gym echoed their footsteps loud and clear marking the strange silence. He stopped but didn’t say goodbye, and she looked up to him to see he had a look of a man with something to say. She felt a twist of butterflies in her tummy but said nothing.

“You know, I wasn’t going to say anything, but since this is my last week coaching, I thought you should know,” his voice was apprehensive and it excited her.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve seen you, putting in the extra time, doing the work. You’ve got talent, and more importantly, you’ve got a good work ethic. That’s going to get you noticed and take you far.”

She couldn’t keep help her face from pulling into a huge toothy grin. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t have wiped it off her face.

“I mean that, not just in sports, too, but in life. Tricia, you keep this work ethic up and I see great things for you.”

Riding on a heady jolt of excitement the ebullient young teen threw her arms around her coach from the side and hugged his shoulder, “Thanks coach. I’m just,” she pulled back, “I’m really glad you noticed.” She wanted to add a ‘me’ to the end of her sentence. It sat on her lips daring to forth, but she swallowed it and smiled instead.

That nice, for the first time ever, dreamed about a man. Just a silly dream where they were out in a little cabin in the rolling hills of France. She wore a long dress with poofy shoulders and a bonnett. He came home with fresh chopped wood and shirt open. He kissed her on the forehead, and whispered the word, ‘beautiful’.

Then she looked up at him and they were in the gym again. She tilted her head up to him, his lips came down towards hers ... The sharp arcing shriek of her alarm yanked Patricia away from her tiny little paradise. She woke with her heart racing and a few beads of sweat pasting strands of hair to her forehead. “Oh jeez.”

She wasn’t sure how she felt anymore, and spent a good deal of time during the school day taking stock.

Yes, if she was going to be honest with herself, she had feelings for Mr. Klein. But these weren’t silly little girl feelings. This wasn’t stupid he’s-so-dreamy or isn’t he-so-cute crushes. She admired him. He knew his stuff and was really in great physical shape. Also, he clearly noticed her. They had a kind of connection, like kindred spirits. Looking around at the guys in class, she though, is it any wonder I never had a crush before.

“Ugh, I’m so screwed,” she complained to Ali and Vee at lunch. Vanessa wasn’t in sports, but she lived in Ali’s neighborhood, so they hung out a bunch.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean guys.”

Ali balked, “This is new.”

“Don’t be a b. I’m serious, all the guys are like a foot shorter than me, I’m never going to have a boyfriend.”

“So?” Ali asked pointedly.

“So, I’m never going to have a boyfriend.”

“All the guys my age are so short.”

Vee chimed in, “Not Toby, he tall.” In response the the blank looks, she followed up, “Toby Holomanu?”

Ali snorted, “El oh el, no. You just need to broaden your horizons to older guys.”

Patricia, blinked and stammered, “Oh, well, I don’t, I think.”

Ali explained, “Trust me, if people were calling me six foot Ali, I’d be using that and dating senior boys.”

Of course Ali was talking about Seniors in High School. What else would she have been thinking about or suggesting. Patricia nodded, “Oh yeah ... I guess, but what senior do you know that would even look at a freshman?”

“Wait a minute hold up, hold the phone anyway, real question is, why do you care? It’s not like having a boyfriend is a big deal anyway,” Ali took a bite out of her sandwich and poked the it at her as she chewed.

Vanessa added, “Yeah, I’ve never had a boyfriend and I’m not freaking out.”

Ali grinned, “And I mean, didn’t you know? All us volleyball girls are dykes anyway.”

“Ew, gross,” Patricia replied.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with it, you don’t even know, maybe you’re actually in the closet and you just don’t know it yet. I am not judging, alls I’m saying is, you don’t know.”

“You know what, I think I figured it out,” Patricia bloomed into a smile.

“Wait, what, really?” Ali almost spat out her sandwich, her eyes bugging in shock.

“Yeah, I am totally a pie-sexual. I love peach pie and pecan pie. Oh, and cherry pie and apple pie.” Ali groaned and Vanessa giggled. Patricia feigned a southern drawl, “Ah lahk paaaah.”

Ali groaned, “You’re such a goof. You and Toby should get together and have a million babies.”

Patricia grinned at her, “Pie pie pie...”

“Six foot freakazoid.”

Patricia loved her friends, be it Vee the peppy short hanger on or her good friend Carmen, the only blonde (figurative) colombian in the world. Even Ali and all her snark, but Patricia knew she couldn’t talk to her friends about her feelings for Mr. Klein or the connection she knew was there.

It didn’t matter anyway, Mrs. Major came back and the girls were back on normal practices.

Normal boring school. A normal boring dance that she didn’t even go to. Who goes to junior prom as a freshman? Other than girls who get asked, no one.

Patricia kept being a normal girl, but she’d kept up with the yoga she picked up from Mr. Klein. Every time she did it, she would remember his voice; A calm, steady, and strong voice that guided her through the poses. Every once in a while, he’d cross her mind and she’d smile, but there was too much else going on to think about silly things like that.

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