Coach Wilson didn't know what to do with himself.

How could I let myself get into this shit? he asked himself, resting his head on his open palms and looking down at the desk in his tiny office off the gym.

He sighed mightily and leaned back in the squeaky old wooden office chair and gazed up at the ceiling, as the desk had given him no useful clues.

Cynthia Naamans, Cindy to her friends, walked into his office again. "Did you think about it?" she asked.

He nodded, his expression utterly miserable and broken. "I still can't believe you're doing this."

She shrugged and gave him a pretty smile. "Your choice. Either I'm back on the team, and you can benefit from my being available to you, or I go to the principal and say you've been fucking me."

The middle-aged black man shook his head. "This is so very wrong, Cindy," he said, "you'll destroy me."

She nodded, and seemed to commiserate. "It would, wouldn't it? I guess you should just go ahead and put me on the team and do me a couple of times a week. I mean, if you get caught its no worse than if you refuse, is it?"

"You've got no proof," he protested, eyeing her.

She giggled. "I have plenty of proof," she said, "you putting those pictures of yourself on that swingers website, with that uncircumsized prick with the little beads under the skin? Very distinctive. If I went to the cops saying that was how I could prove it was you, it'd stick more than well enough."

Fred Wilson had coached girl's basketball for sixteen years now, since he graduated from Tarleton University. In those years, he'd never crossed any lines with his girls. The little manipulative bitch before him knew that, and she knew she was breaking his heart.

He shrugged. "Okay, you're back on the damn team," he said. He could handle her being on the basketball team, despite her rather wicked means of 'making the cut'. He looked at her with tired eyes. "I'm not touching you, though. I've never hurt any of my girls, and I'm not starting now."

School had closed four hours ago, and Wilson was likely the only faculty in the building except Angel, the repair man. Cindy, herself, had come back for this informal little conference.

She smiled brightly. "That's cool and all, but I didn't say the fucking me part was optional," she said.

"What?" he asked. "I'm putting you back on the team, you were damn near good enough without all this, so it's not a problem."

She shrugged. "I've got myself all worked up with the idea of a black man fucking me. Be damned if you're not one of maybe ten in town." Cindy turned and closed his office door, the glass rattled in the frame loosely. She twisted the little butterfly latch that locked it.

"Goddamn, Cindy," said Fred, "I can't do that."

She reached down to her skirt and unzipped the side. It slid to the floor, revealing lacy panties that damn near didn't actually hide anything. The young woman stepped over the fallen cloth and lifted her top over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her small, firm breasts poked forward like twin points on a ship. "Just enjoy it, coach, I'm not that bad." she said.

He blinked at her, his mind reeling. "Cindy, please, I'm begging you," he said.

She hooked the thin straps at either side of the gauzy panties and pushed them down. A moment later, she laid those on his desk, where they were directly in front of his downturned head. Cindy, herself, sat on the edge of the desk, her nude form reflecting in the frosted glass of the window.

"And I'm telling you. Fuck me or I go tell everyone you did, anyway," she said. Her blue eyes were hard as ice when he looked up at her. For a sixteen year old, he saw something cruel and ancient in those eyes, and they terrified the gentle man.

"My wife..." he protested, tears forming in his brown eyes.

"Will never know, Fred," she said, reaching out and stroking his stubbly cheek with a smooth, cool hand. "Besides, you two already swing, just consider me a new 'partner'."

How this little girl made something so wrong sound so reasonable was an abomination to Coach Wilson, and his mind was trying to wrap itself around her twisted logic. Involuntarily, his eyes moved down from those callous blue eyes to her perky tits, the nipples actually pointed somewhat upward, and they were big, for such small breasts, almost the size of the last knuckle on his pinkie. From there, he was drawn down a smooth stomach, with a pierced belly button, a tiny heart dangled from a stud through it. Then her pubic patch, with a fine spray of nearly white hairs. When Cindy had died her hair on her head, she must have bleached out her pubic hair, too.

Nested in the neatly trimmed bush was a pink slit. As his eyes fell on it, she moved her nearer leg, to lay it upon the desk top, spreading them wide. It gaped open slightly, like a mouth, inviting him to kiss. He felt his cock swelling, despite his desire for it not to.

Cindy saw his uncomfortable look. "I'm not bad looking am I?" she asked.

"No," Fred muttered. "You're really pretty, Cindy, you know that." His eyes went back up to hers. She had softened her look a bit, and was not quite so threatening now. "Please, put your clothes on. You're on the team, just don't make me do this."

She scooted over on the desk, shoving some of his papers aside with her smooth rump. "Sorry, coach," she said, "but, like I said, I got myself to wanting to do this, and I REALLY want to do it."

As she said 'really' her eyes widened, and a smile formed on her lips. She was pleased with how her game was turning out. The sense of power she had over the coach was intoxicating. Moreover, she truly had thought much about her scheme, and had gotten herself worked up at the idea of him doing her. She bet those beads that he had imbedded in his prick would feel fucking awesome sliding in and out of her.

"Do you have a condom?" he asked. Inside her animal mind, Cindy cheered, she had just won.

She picked up her handbag, which she had left on his desk before 'giving him time to think', and fished out a folded trio of Trojans. "Safety first," she said, grinning wide.

Fred sighed and pushed his chair back. Its tiny wheels made a ridiculously large amount of noise as they squeaked from the long roll.

Cindy once again slid her leg of the desk and stood. She turned toward the couch against the wall of the office. Usually this was where girls sat while he chewed their asses for screwing up in a game. Cindy had sat there, more than once, while he ranted about the office. Her ass seemed quite free of tooth marks as she moved toward it this time. The smooth lobes were virtually flawless, near as Fred could tell.

Dammit, stop appreciating her beauty, he thought, pushing that back out of his mind. She sat demurely and looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

With another huge sigh, he pulled off his shirt as he kicked off his loafers. A smile twisted her lips upward again as she watched him strip. He had a good body for a guy in his late thirties, muscular chest, and really strong-looking arms. It was really a turn on that she made this big, strong man weak enough for her to command.

When he unzipped his pants, her eyes flicked to that point, suddenly locked onto his groin. She had seen his penis on the internet, but this was very different. He pushed down his khakis and boxers with one motion. Cindy's blue eyes widened as his prick sprang back up from the downward movement. His dark skin fascinated her, a girl who had only seen pasty white boys up to now, and a few Mexicans who were a little darker.

She held out the condoms and he took a step forward to take them. As he stepped in her reach, her other hand moved out and took hold of his prick. It was like a live wire had been wrapped around his pole. He twitched and his prick stiffened like a iron rod had been rammed up his ass and out through the fleshy spike.

"Woah," she said as his cock twitched in her hand, "for someone who doesn't want to do something, he's sure ready." Her eyes moved appreciatively over the sizable prod she held in her hand.

Cindy used his cock to pull Fred forward. He stepped right in front of her. She moved her head forward and kissed his prick. "This really won't be so bad, promise," she said. Opening her mouth and taking him up to nearly the halfway mark.

Coach Wilson moaned as her tongue began moving over the imbedded beads in his organ. All those years, and now that line was crossed fully. She slid her head back and forth, slowly going faster as she sucked. Her hand kept its grip upon the base of his pole, and her other came up to caress the chocolate skin of his hip.

Cindy slipped her mouth off his pole and looked up. "Is that so bad?" she asked, her eyes were hopeful-looking.

He shook his head a little, enough, he supposed, because she went back to it. A few minutes later, he said. "You have to stop, I'm going to come."

Her hand continued stroking, but her lips came free again. "Come then," she said and then took him back into her mouth.

A moment later, he grunted, and his hips bucked forward. She made a deep down moaning sound as he came, her throat visibly swallowing. A moment later she sat back again, sighing. "See, you can enjoy it. Your profile on the dating site said you love going down on women almost as much as you like getting head. Is that true?"

His eyes once again flicked down to her pink slit. "Yeah," he said, finally, moving his eyes up again.

The young woman leaned back and spread her legs. "Mind doing that until you can get hard again?" she asked, grinning. "I'd really appreciate it, coach."