The Coach's Wife - Cover

The Coach's Wife

Copyright© 2023 by INtrinSicliValud

Chapter 14

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 14 - The initial story in The Wandering Man series introduces Hiram Boetticher, III. A young black man struggling to survive in the Southern United States of the 1980s, he’s hired by his football coach for an impromptu interlude with the man’s wife. But as emotions spiral higher and relationships twist, Hiram begins the journey that will make him a legend. NOTE: Contains references to “rape,” although all interactions are consensual, as well as racial slurs and play.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Fiction   Sharing   Wife Watching   Rough   Interracial   Black Male   White Female   Anal Sex  

With a brilliant shaft of sunlight cutting across my eyes, I awoke with a start. Though the crinkled sheets beside me were still warm, I was alone in the pink bed. As I inhaled, my heart pounded, and a taut grin appeared on my face. Any question about my night being only a dream disappeared at the mélange of aromas. Her syrupy scent and my seed. And sweat—both of ours. All added up to raw animal sex.

After peeling my frame from the sticky sheets, I staggered to my feet with a groan and stretched. Accompanying my lengthier moan, a thousand cracks and snaps echoed in the empty room. As I shook the sleep from my head, I stumbled towards the bathroom.

Once I’d stepped inside, the humid air, laced with the delicate flowery scents of Mrs. Jenkins’ shampoo and bodywash, widened my grin. After striding into the shower, sigh after lengthy sigh left me under the hot, needle-like spray’s bombardment. With a chuckle, I lifted Coach’s soap. As I swept suds over me, the thick sweat and dried cum shed from my glistening dark skin.

While the water pounded on my back, my mind again whirled. What would happen next? I was sure Mrs. Jenkins was with her husband. If history was any guide, she’d be fucking him senseless. That’s what they’d said happened after every other time she’d been with me. As I stepped out to run a towel over me, I exhaled.

So? What could happen? After a quick glimpse of my dark silhouette in the fog-shrouded mirror, I shrugged. At that point, no matter what’d passed between us in the darkness, I was back to square one. I’d no idea what role to play. Or what the new day’s script would hold.

After sliding into my clothes, I yawned and scanned the room. Beneath crumpled and stained pink sheets, dented pillows, and with its fuchsia coverlet dangling to the floor, the bed looked as if a bomb had struck. With a chuckle, I combed my fingertips through my hair. It had. Well, at least something pretty powerful had occurred.

At the sudden appearance of Chanelle’s face, my chest tightened. As we’d stood in the Greg’s Burgers parking lot, the shimmer rising in her amber pools. And then another image appeared. From earlier, while lying together in the darkness, the glimmer blazing in Mrs. Jenkins’ eyes.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, momma,” I murmured. “Something else magical has just happened.”

As I shook my head, I eased the door open and moved towards the stairs. As soon as I placed a foot on the first step, I froze. Murmurs came from the kitchen. Coach and his wife. So not fucking? But at least they weren’t yelling at each other. Not that I’d ever heard them argue. After creeping halfway down the stairwell, I stopped and leaned against the wall. Then again, who knew how they came to their agreements?

“You can’t keep him forever, dear.” Coach said. There was a sipping noise and smacking lips before his voice continued. “It’s not safe for Hiram. Or you. We can get you ... Somebody new.”

“I know it’s not, dear, but”—there was a long pause before Mrs. Jenkins’ voice returned. It rose in pitch—”are you jealous, Denny?”

“Of course I am.” Coach’s voice was more forceful. “Jesus, Cin. You’re completely different when you’re with that boy.”

“I am, aren’t I? And Hiram’s no boy, Denny. You know better.” At her twinkling laughter, a grin slid onto to my face. “Oh, my, baby. I do like you jealous. Look at that. So hard.”

“Mmm. God, Cin.” Coach’s voice broke off into huffing breaths before he managed to add. “Oh. Oh, you’re such a little tease.”

“Do you love me?” At the pure sexiness in her tone, blood pulsed into my head—both heads; my breathing raced.

“Yes,” Coach hissed. “Of course, baby.”

“Well, sweetheart.” At a quiet kissing noise, I swallowed. “As we agreed. At DiGrigio’s.” Another lingering, wet kiss was accompanied by a muffled groan from Coach. “Hiram makes me happy, Denny. He—”

“Yes, I know. He’s amazing. But he’s only turned eighteen. So, he’s still only a kid. Oh.” Coach’s voice disappeared into a longer wavering groan. “Oh. Oh, fuck, sweetie. H—He has his own life. Oh. Mmm. Oh, damn. A full future ahead of him.”

“He’s got a girl, right?” When she said that, my heart swan-dived into my stomach. “I’m scared, Denny. What’s she gonna think about—”

“—him having a sexy little whore?” Coach finished in an airy voice. “Oh. Mmm. Oh, baby, you’ve got such good hands.”

“Yes. Mmm, so hard. All for me.” Her tone was sultry once more. “Yes, his—Hiram’s—sexy little whore. I don’t know, baby. But he ... I want him in my life, Denny. I really do.”

“Oh, Jesus. Oh, fuck, sweetie.” Coach’s voice tapered into a low, growling groan. “Mmm, I know, but ... But just ... Don’t be surprised if, uh, things, um, change.”

“Okay. But you still agree? No matter what, I can keep him? For now, right?”

“Yes, you”—Coach’s voice became a whining growl—”Oh, fuck. I’m so ... So close. Yes, you can keep him, my love.”

“You’re the best, sweetheart.” The sounds of noisier kissing left the kitchen before the scraping of shoes on tile. “Mmm. And so hard.” At the wet smack of lips, Coach emitted a muffled groan. “Did you hear us last night?”

Even as the rhythmic slow sound of slurping sent my pulse racing, a louder groan escaped Coach. Splayed along the wall, my fingers scratched at the wallpaper. For a while, the only sounds in the house were ever quicker slurps and Coach’s faster breathing. After a liquid plop, Coach groaned.

“Yes.” His hissed reply was forceful.

“Did you come, sweetie?” At the playful tone in her voice, I could imagine the smile on Mrs. Jenkins’ face.

“Yes.”

“Good.” After she spoke, there was more scratching on the floor and a creak of the table. With a hint of desperation, Coach moaned. “I was worried.”

“Please, baby.” His voice was whiny. “I’m so—”

“Shh. Later.” When she chuckled, a louder groan escaped Coach. “If you behave.”

After the click clack of her heels receded into the kitchen, I gulped. Really? She’d only...? I mean, they hadn’t—fucked—as usual? And she’d simply left him. Abandoned him. As I stared at my fingers shaking on the flowered wallpaper, I shifted my hips to release the pressure on my swollen shaft. Once more, my mind spun.

With my pulse speeding, I glanced at the front door. So, should I slip away? Head home? Or roll the dice, again? See what script we were using?

Another decision point.

Once more, I looked towards the exit. That direction led to...? Well, to my house. And normal life. As I swung my head the other way, my heartbeat—it was weird. The hammering in my chest slowed. That direction led to more of Mrs. Jenkins. Before I knew it, I emitted a lengthy exhale and yawned. Loudly. While stretching my arms to the sky, I thumped down the last steps and staggered into the kitchen. Along with strong coffee, the aromas of bacon and eggs swirled into my nostrils.

“Good morning, Coach,” I said before flashing him a smile. In a tight gray t-shirt and straining black shorts, he sat at the kitchen table. After nodding towards his wife, cooking at the stove, I widened my grin and added. “Mrs. Jenkins.”

 

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT...

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