FIRST: THE APARTMENT BASEMENT
Ray Warton, usually called 'Coach Warton' or often just 'Coach', the head football coach at a mid western university, was a new resident of Blake Towers, a rather nicely kept and nicely run apartment complex in town. He'd moved there only a month earlier, having to get a new place for himself from the one where he'd hung his hat earlier.
He was currently, on a Tuesday evening at 8 PM, looking around for the person that many called 'the super'. This 'super' was supposed to have a special set of keys that he needed. The keys were for new locks that had been installed, the latest and all residents were informed that they needed to see 'the super' for their set. He'd been putting it off, having been busy for the past few weeks, with spring practice events. He was, however, determined that tonight he'd get it done.
He went into the basement, where he thought that he might just find this super. But when he entered the basement, after knocking, going into the mechanical rooms, he stopped dead because of what he saw.
Ray Warton was a hearty 44 years old. His life had only recently taken an auspicious, for him at least, turn. His wife of some 18 years, who'd spent a good 8 of those years in a mental institution, after having an irretrievable breakdown following the still birth of their long awaited child, had died only two months ago. Ray had been on his own, so to speak, for all or most of those past 8 years. The main sense that swept over him at the time, and since, was a feeling of relief. He'd lost Margaret truly after her mental retreat, at the death of the little girl, and she'd never, ever come home from that. Ray had known, of course, that Margaret came from a family that had such periodic problems, he'd grown up in the same small town as her but living through the tragedy and then the gradual decline and total retreat of Margaret had been, for him at least, costly. The relief at her passing, allowing him to remember the bright and bubbly girl she'd been, when they were first married, was, as they say 'palpable'.
So, the Coach was getting on with his life. He had this new apartment, and had a kind of new outlook. He had been universally, among colleagues, looked up to for his constant vigil for his Margaret.
And here he was searching for 'the super' of the building. He walked into that mechanical room and there she was, the super. She was at the moment hunkered down and attending to a joint with a large wrench. She wore gloves and seemed to know exactly what she was doing.
The super, in fact, was Ronnie Blake, that is Dr Ronnie Blake, the 'Eli Barnes Memorial Professor of Historical Studies', to be exact. Ronnie Blake, besides being a professor of history at the university, was a fiery haired, green eyed irish lass, who at 34 years was, as her father was so often inclined to say 'big breasted and big assed'. That is merely to say that Dr Ronnie Blake was tall, 5'101/2" and extremely well built.
She was often seen as a no-nonsense kind of woman, who'd taken all the time she needed for her PhD degree, with its specialty in the 'Underground Railroad' of the Civil War era. She also was adamant in her refusal to participate in casual sex with the number of married men who'd tried to put the moves on her.
Yet to her friends, Ronnie Blake was life and joy itself, quick to laugh and loving to a fault. Her care for her parents, who she had tended in their last illnesses with care and great love, and her relationship with her uncle certainly showed that.
She had other interests and responsibilities, as Ray Wharton was about to discover, among those were her interest in the upkeep of the three apartment buildings that her loving uncle Hal had given her. It was his way, he said, of taking care of her future. The apartment buildings were paid for and clear and provided Ronnie with more extra income than she actually needed or knew what to do with.
Ronnie had spent a good deal of her extra time over a decade to take care of her parents, who'd been in failing health. She'd been a late love child for a childless couple and between what her parents had left her, and what her entrepreneur Uncle insisted on providing for her, was in an extremely good financial position, which was a fact known only to Ronnie and maybe her best friend, Dr Joan Whalen, also history.
So, here she was in the basement hunkered down and working with a pipe wrench. Ray stood for a moment and just stared, when the woman hunkered down there asked, never leaving her task:
"Can I help you?"
He stared because Ronnie's work shirt had come out of her jeans and she was, at that moment, showing a large amount of bare upper backside and what is commonly known as a 'plumber's crack'.
"Um," he began, "I'm looking for the super to get my set of the new keys."
Ronnie recognized the voice right away. She said: "Coach?" and stood up.
"Dr Blake!" he said almost in a panic and immediately beating on himself for ogling at her 'plumber's crack'.
She noticed, first of all, his blush and stammer, and then she felt the coolness on the back of her waist, and realized that her jeans had indeed slipped down, while she was working with the pipe wrench.
"Oh dear!" she said, "I was showing you my plumber's crack!"
He grinned at her and she gave him a kind of shy smile in return.
"And a lovely... " was as far as he got.
"Now, Coach Warton," she said, her grin never leaving her face. "Why don't you just look at the next two steps ahead of you, where you're going right now with what you were about to say and see how deep the water is there, and ask yourself: 'Do I really want to go there?'"
He laughed and held up his hands as though to shield himself from the possibility of her fury.
"No, Ma'am," he said vehemently.
"Ronnie, please!" she said with absolute kindness, "And I apologize for not being aware of the way I looked."
He grinned and she said softly: "No, don't you say a word!"
They both laughed.
"But the keys," she said, "I'll get them for you."
She led him into a room with tools etc and there was a strong box kind of thing and it had the new keys in it. She gave him his set and had him sign for it.
"Um, Ronnie," he said, "I was just so surprised to see you here with the wrench."
"Oh," she said, "I love to putter with such things. For major jobs, I call the pros but my Dad and Uncle between them have taught me to be self sufficient."
"But here?" he said.
She laughed and said: "Well it's not well known but certainly no big secret. My Uncle, to take care of me, as he said so often, gave me three of these up-scale apartment buildings. So, I spend some time in each of them puttering."
"Do you live here?" he asked and put up his hands again, saying: "Sorry to pry."
She laughed and said: "No, I only growl in play, Ray; I'm not really a dragon, though right now I look like one. And, no, I only rent these out to people."
"No, no," he said: "Fiery red hair, green eyes, grease smudge on your nose and totally gorgeous!"
She blushed actually at what he said and gave him a kind curtsey and a thanks for what he'd said to her.
He took the keys then and could think of no better or other reason for staying and talking to her, though he realized that he wished that he did have a reason. So, with a smile and a 'thank you, super', he turned and walked away.
Ronnie watched him go, allowing herself a little sigh.
"And here I am looking like TugBoat Annie!" she complained to herself but the very thought ended in a giggle with her.
SECOND: THE TRACK
It was the following Tuesday. There had been an early spring practice today, and Ray was talking with some of the assistant coaches. They had a number of new candidates to assess and were talking about the veterans that were returning to play for the university.
They were in agreement that the prospects for the coming year looked fairly good.
They were standing in a kind of huddle, watching the players take a lap, when Ray's attention was taken by a solitary runner, who was not part of the pack of football players, who, after their run were filing into the large practice field.
"Who's that?" Ray asked.
"I thought it was the new quarterback!" one of the coaches said with a grin.
They all laughed and another said:
"That's Dr Ronnie Blake from the history department. I've seen her out here before. She seems to be pretty dedicated to her exercise program.
"She seems to be built like a brick..." another began but Ray cut him off:
"Gentlemen," he said, "A civil tongue for a woman colleague please!"
They all knew when he was serious and when he wasn't, and while he was certainly not a prude, Ray Warton was noted for his attitude about being respectful to women.
"Sorry, Coach," the aid said and they let it drop.
They all walked then toward the practice field, where the players had gone for the practice that was to ensue.
Ray himself stopped by the track and watched Ronnie, as she approached him.
"Dr Blake!" he said, inclining his head.
She waved at him and gave him a salute and one breathless word: "Ronnie!"
"Ronnie!" he said, as she ran past.
She was wearing a tee shirt that had some sweat streaks on the back of it and a pair of tight, black running pants that absolutely highlighted what her father had called 'her big ass'.
(His point of view was that she was a typical Irish lass: big in the breast, big in the ass and with great courage and concern for her loved ones! It was always said with the utmost love. And right at that moment Ronnie was showing the world, and more specifically Ray Warton that the 'big ass' comment, while not literally true, certainly spoke of one of her best features.)
She was smiling and humming a bit to herself, as she ran past, realizing that was Coach Ray Warton that was standing there and about to greet her.
She also knew that he'd find out that she was indeed a regular at the track and not out here only to attract his attention. That was not her purpose. This was a part of her routine, as much as her visits to the mechanical rooms of her buildings was.
She did another few laps, after the one where he'd saw her and she was hoping that he was watching her all the while.
Truth to tell, he was. His imagination was filled with the contrasting views that he'd had of her within only a few days. First, it was that hunkered down, hair all askew, face dirty, competent mechanical woman with the wonderful plumber's crack showing, and only a hint, just a hint of blue panties, and now it was the same woman but in jock finery, showing a running form, despite her obvious physical charms that was impressive.
He had to talk to himself to get his attention back to the spring football practice but he managed.
Ronnie broke off her run and headed for the gate with her towel around her neck. She didn't notice that Ray from afar watched her go.
She wandered up toward the student center and saw her friend Joanie Whalen standing there and waiting.
"Joanie!" she said and waved.
"It's Diana the huntress!" Joanie said grinning.
"In the flesh!" Ronnie said.
"Time for tea or something?" Joan asked.
"Yes, if you don't mind me sweaty!" Ronnie said.
"You'll set all the hearts quivering," Joanie said, "In those running pants."
Ronnie giggled and put her hand over her mouth: "Good for me!" she said.
"Terrible as usual!" Joanie said.
"But wait until I tell you what's happened," Ronnie said, in a conspiratorial tone of voice.
"Gossip?" Joanie said, "Tell me, tell me!"
They settled down at a table, now and then nodding to students and colleagues that were about and waved to them, both of them popular members of the faculty.
"Tell," Joanie said, and Ronnie went into the meeting in the apartment basement with Ray Warton and her display of her 'plumber's crack'.
Joanie was now laughing: "You didn't!"
"I did and it was unintentional!" she said.
"Did he notice?" Joanie asked.
"Is he blind?" Ronnie asked in reply and giggled, "My ass was hanging out!"
Joanie started to giggle again.
"Stop it!" Ronnie said, now giggling herself, "He's gorgeous and free and saw me in one of my freakish kinds of moods, with the pipe wrench in my hand, my hair all askew and grease on my face."
"Delightful!" Joanie said, "He'll never forget."
"Then there was the encounter a few minutes ago," Ronnie went on.
"And you dressed like that!" Joanie said, "He must think that you're after him!"
They both laughed then.
"Maybe I am," Ronnie giggled, "But I hope he sees me one of these days dressed normally!"
"This is normal for you!" Joanie said.
"Don't you dare!" Ronnie said and they left the building at that point.
The two contrasting views that he'd had in only a few days of Ronnie Blake stayed with Ray Warton. He couldn't get the images out of his mind, nor did he try. He just kind of set them aside to think about them, when he had the time.
THIRD: WORK CLOTHES
There was, of course yet another encounter between the two of them, not all that usual, since it was really a large campus and there was all sorts of room for the two of them to easily miss each other on a daily basis.
It's just that once the first two chances to run across Ronnie Blake happened for Ray Warton, he was on the look out for her more or less. She had certainly been on his mind.
He had business a few days later in that week at the office of the dean of students. The office was situated in one of the buildings that contained large lecture halls. It was the theory that the dean would best fulfill her function by being in the middle of student life.
Ray was there to talk about one of the football players and his academic standing. He was hoping to be able to get some leeway for the kid, who'd promised to do better and get a tutor in addition.
His attempt had been, indeed, successful in this instance.
He was coming out of the office of the dean just as a class across the hall and up a bit was letting out. Students were talking about how good the lecture had been. He heard some of them talking about the title the development of the Union Cavalry during the Civil War.
He walked toward the end of the building and just the, Fate? Kismet? Plan?, who knows, Dr Ronnie Blake emerged from the lecture room.
"Ronnie!" he said with almost relief in his voice, at least relief that he realized.
She stopped, when she saw him, and smiled: "Ray!" she said, "Uh, Coach!" she corrected herself.
"No," he said, "If it's Ronnie then it must be 'Ray'."
"Nice to see you!" she said.
She was wearing that day a white blouse with a kind of frill front. It did nothing to hide the swell of her breasts. In addition, she was wearing an a-line blue skirt and sensible heels.
Ray was grinning: "Nice to run into you."
"Again!" she said, secretly relishing the fact that he was at least now seeing her in some decent clothes, even if it was her 'professor's uniform', as she called it.
"You look so nice!" he said, and then a horrible thought crossed his mind. He stuttered and went on: "I didn't mean to imply that previously, I mean at the track and in the basement of the building you didn't look nice!"
He had fairly stranded himself: "Oh dear!" He said, "Why don't I just go and jump out a window! Tongue tied like this!"
He shifted gears and asked: "Time for coffee?"
"I know it's not nice for me to say 'no' to the invitation and normally I'd wouldn't do that but I have to meet a plumber over at the 3rd street apartments! I'm so sorry," she said and he smiled and turned to go saying that it was okay.
"Ask me again," she said, putting her hand on his arm, "Please and I promise not to say 'no' the next time."
He grinned at her then and said: "You're on. Next time!"
She stopped him for a minute then, a thought having occurred to him.
"Ray, Coach," she said softly. "I was so sorry to hear about your wife! I sent a note at the time but haven't had a chance 'til now to say anything."
"Thank you," he said softly. "There was a time, when she was wonderful, full of life and just light and joy, and she lost it all, after the baby died. Lost it all."
He stopped himself in the middle of that and said to her: "Thank you for saying so."
"Sorry," she said then, "I have to go. I apologize for bringing up such a difficult memory."
"No," he responded, "Your expression of concern means a great deal."
She went to him then and kissed him on the cheek. She ran her hand down his other cheek and turned to go. They were alone in the hall way at that time.
Then he got a twinkle in his eye and said: "Now, since you have to go, I'm going to watch you walk away."
She gave him a dazzling smile and simply walked away, her hips swaying beneath the simplicity of the a-line skirt. Once she moved her head to look behind her and he was still standing there. She gave him a little wave and disappeared. He watched her go, getting yet another impression of the woman.
A CONSPIRACY ENGAGED:
Ronnie had, in fact, a standing date with Joan Whalen for coffee on this particular day of the week. It was their ritual thing, to complain a bit, laugh a bit, maybe giggle a bit. It was their girl thing to be sure.
The meeting with the plumber was quickly accomplished and then Ronnie got her coffee and looked around the student center until she spotted Joan. She waved and made her way in that direction. She was greeted effusively by students on the way to the table.
(Ronnie Blake was one of the really popular teachers.)
She was also aware of some rather smoky stares from some of the guys. It always was a boost to her ego, that she could still turn heads.
"Well, there she is, still creating a stir!" Joan said, as Ronnie got to the table.
"Hey, girl!" Ronnie said brightly.
"What's made you so bouncy?" Joan asked but she put her hand over her mouth right away and said: "You saw him! Didn't you? Tell! Tell!"
Ronnie giggled and said: "Yes, ran into him after my class. What a change he is from the Development of the Union Cavalry during the Civil War!"
"I guess!" Joanie said, "He's gorgeous."
"I finally got a chance, privately to give my condolences about his wife," Ronnie said.
"How did that go?" Joan wanted to know.
"Fine," Ronnie answered, "He was a bit taken back by it but seemed to recover okay."
"Did he?" Joan asked.
"Yes," Ronnie giggled, "He told me then that he was going to watch me walk away!"
Joan joined him in the giggle.
"And then you put the walk on him!" Joan said.
"Yep! Did!" Ronnie crowed.
"I don' know of anyone who can walk-strut like you do!" Joan said with a laugh.
"So, girlfriend, third time this week?" Joan asked.
"Yes, it's so exciting. Do you think that he suspects that I have designs on him?" Ronnie asked.
"Well, unless he's just dumb, I hope so but it sounds like he has designs on you too, love," Joan went on.
"Oh, I hope so!" Ronnie asked.
"Going to the 'faculty' on Friday?" Joan asked in a coy fashion.
"Should I?" Ronnie enquired, "I don't usually, they're so boring."
"He's the coach, he'll go, you can bet on it!" Joan said and they giggled again.
Joan got a bright look on her face and said: "I know! Do something! Something to declare yourself! So that he can't get it wrong."
"Think so?" Ronnie asked.
"Definitely!" Joan went on. "What could it be?"
"Ohhhhh," Ronnie wailed, "I know exactly. It can be done, if you'll help me and it can remain a bit anonymous, except for him, you and me!"
"Blackmail!" Joan sang out softly.
Ronnie leaned in and said: "You have Stan, I'm not going to bed with you!"
Joan almost shrieked: "You're so bad!"
"I'm on the hunt!" Ronnie went on and laughed with her friend.
It was decided, once Ronnie explained it to Joan, who promised to help her. They met again later at one of Ronnie's buildings, in the mechanical room. Their plot seemed to go swimmingly.
Ronnie thought that she was ready.
"Fourth will be the charm!" Joan said.
"Oh, I hope so!" was Ronnie's reply.
FOURTH: THE FACULTY PARTY
During this part of the year Ray Wardon's mind was normally always and totally on football. He would be looking to shape up this year's team from the players that he had from the previous year. He was almost totally focussed on it alone in spring.
That is until this year. He never really got the image of Ronnie Blake hunkered down by the pipes in the apartment building with her ass crack showing and a touch, a hint of blue panties.That had hit him like a bomb! It was always there in the back of is mind, almost as if it opened a kind of door or gate in his mind, to things that he simply hadn't allowed himself to dwell upon for ages, especially with Margaret's illness and passing taking so much of the 'romantic' out of him.
No, he realized, this was a new stirring.
It was only exacerbated by seeing her on the practice field in her running outfit. The images, at that point, simply compounded themselves.
(And, truth to tell, there was no conspiracy until after that third accidental meeting; it was only then that Ronnie and Joan began to conspire!)
He carried those mental images in his mind, where, at least this year, it wasn't only all football and football strategy!
The third meeting kind of solidified it for him. She looked so business like in her teaching kind of outfit. He couldn't help, though, notice the movement, wiggle, if you will, of her ass cheeks against the material of the skirt, when he first saw her come out of the lecture hall.
He was also, on that third occasion, taken by her sincere wishes about Margaret. It joined this caring image to all that he'd been assimilating up to then about her. The image was becoming overwhelming.
He decided on the Friday 'Faculty', a tea kind of thing at the home of the university dean, as a way to get out and air out his mind. He thought that getting out in a crowd of people might help him regain his focus. Also, he knew from past experience that Ronnie Blake didn't attend those. Didn't know why, just knew that he never saw her there. So, he went to the Faculty without making his fascination thing with Dr Blake any worse. That's the way it seemed.
He saw her, of course, almost as soon as he was inside the Dean's door and went to mingle. Her back was to him but it was unmistakeable.
She was wearing a gray cocktail dress with red shoes and red beads, plus red dangly earrings. (Gray and Red were the school colors!)
He stared only for a few seconds before his resolve kicked in and he went to her. The dress was wonderfully tight across her butt.
(You need to realize that some men are 'leg men'; some are 'breast men', and some are 'bottom men'. Ray Warton was definitely a 'bottom man' and more especially, since that first encounter, was dazzled by Ronnie Blake's bottom.)
Images immediately flashed in his mind, as he thought about it, images of her hunkered down showing her crack, and the tightness of her running pants, and the movement of her butt beneath the simple blue skirt!
Her reddish/auburn hair, rich and hanging down, washed down the middle of her back, being held in place by something that kept it in this kind of formation. The hair complimented the dress and her entire ensemble.
And he wondered, and right then allowed himself to wonder, if her pubic hair was also red/auburn, and if she had pubic hair.
("So many it seemed, '"he thought to himself, "these days shave their pubic hair, giving them a look like children, which he, at least, didn't care for. He laughed to himself at that point: 'I'm old fashioned enough to want to get pubic hair caught in my teeth!")
He took one more second, having gotten himself a glass of wine, one more second or so to look at her ass and whispered to himself: "Magnificent!"
Then, as though she knew, and were ready for him, Ronnie Blake turned around.
Ray Warton wasn't a 'breast man' but was impressed by the way her bust line jutted out from he shoulders and pressed against the front of the gray dress.
"Coach Warton!" she said with a broad smile.
"Dr Blake!" he returned, and then went on with a twinkle in his eye: "Gee, no plumber's crack, no running pants, no a-line skirt!"
She laughed and said: "You've been keeping track of me!"
"Oh," he said, realizing that it sounded suddenly as though he were stalking her but she laughed and put her hand on his arm and said:
"No, Ray, I know you're not a stalker and I'm just kidding you here."
"You look like a goddess tonight!" he said. "It kind of rounds out the four appearances of this week."
"Why thank you, Ray!" she said, "That deserves..." instead of finishing, she leaned toward him and kissed his cheek, with a small giggle.
"I was hoping that I'd see you tonight!" she said.
"Oh?" was his reply.
"I brought something for you!" she went on.
Then she opened her purse and pulled out an envelope, giving it to him. His back was to everyone, with all the people there busy with their own conversations, when he opened the envelope, and pulled out the photo that Joan had taken. It was a photo of Ronnie hunkered down again by the pipes. Her jeans were low on her hips and she was showing a great deal of 'plumber's crack' and running perpendicularly across her crack was the lace of a pair of pink panties.
Ray was dumbfounded! Speechless. He looked at her with a great grin on his face and had only one thing that he could think of to say:
"Yes!" he said vehemently.
"I think that says all that needs to be said right now," she replied, and they both agreed.
Ray got a stricken look on his face and said: "I'm not free tonight!"
"Oh," she replied and when he was about to go on, she said: "You don't owe me an explanation."
"But I do!" he said, especially after this, he waved the envelope a bit. "I promised my nephew Matt that I'd come to have a drink with him and his Cindy after this is over. It's almost a ritual with us."
She smiled. "Then you must do it."
"Come with me?" he asked.
"Let's not pull a surprise like this on them." she said and he nodded. "But tomorrow?"
"Meeting with the coaches in the morning at 9," he said ruefully.
"Breakfast or coffee at 8 at my place?" she asked and his smile broadened and became huge.
"Love to; can I bring something?" he wanted to know.
"Just you and your enthusiasm!" she said, drifting toward the door, but before she left, she stepped back and brushed his lips with a kiss.
"Just keep your eyes on that photo!" she said.
"Won't leave my side at all!" he replied and with a giggle she was gone, having said 'good night' to the hostess.
BREAKFAST OR SOMETHING
He was on time the next morning, precisely on time. He rang her doorbell, pleased that finally this was happening. But that still didn't prepare him.
She opened the door and was wearing only pink bikini panties, snugged across her ass and around her hips and heels.
"Come in!" she said with a giggle.
"I wanted to show you that I did have other outfits!"
"I guess!" was his reply, as he stepped in and took her in his arms, their first real kiss.
"That was nice!" she cooed to him, licking his lips then. "Now you stay here for a few seconds and I'll walk away to the kitchen for you. Then you can follow."
The sight was dazzling, the shake and wiggle of her ass cheeks amazing, as she walked ahead of him to the kitchen.
She spun around and walked toward him, setting her large breasts into motion.
"You get a kiss for saying that! The coach gets a kiss!"
"Goodie for the coach!" was his reply, as he met her and grabbed hold of her.
He looked at her then, apparently trying to find out something.
"What?" she asked, "I bet that the Coach wants to know things."
"He does!" he answered.
"Then we'll do this: you get one question, and then every time that you do something to me that's nice or that's sexual I'm going to tell you something! That's what we'll do," she said.
He grinned and said: "My question, which I've been wondering about is about your pubic hair."
She laughed and said: "Ray, we're going to be friends, great friends at least, you can say 'pussy' to me!"
"Good," he went on, still grinning, "Then I'm wondering about pussy hair. I mean is it also reddish? Do you shave?"
"Hmm, inquisitive, and two questions, you bad boy!" she said, and went into the kitchen and disappeared to the left.
In a few seconds, her head came back in view and she threw at him the pink panties that she'd been wearing.
"Here I am, big boy," she said, "Come and get your answer!"
Ray laughed, as he caught the panties in mid air. As she watched, he actually put the panties on his head, kind of on the back of his head like a hat and went stalking her.
She giggled and fled back into the kitchen. When he made it into the kitchen, she was standing by the sink counter in a theatrical pose, with her hips thrust out and her hand in the air.
"Fuck, woman!" he said. "You are astounding! You have a set of tits and an ass that would humble a renaissance painter; you have beautiful flaming red hair that is matched by the curls of your pussy; you have shining green eyes and are just gorgeous to look at!"
"Ohh," she said, flapping her hands and running to him then. "You're so nice! Thank you! Thank you! For that I'll tell you something that you need to know."
He smiled as she sailed into his arms and said: "Hey, progress!"
She whispered into his ear then: "I need you to know that I like to look at porn on the internet!"
"Hooray!" he shouted, picking her up so that her feet were off the floor. "Like one of the guys!"
"So, you like my pussy hair?" she asked.
"Love it!" he said, "Let me show you!"
She squealed then as he picked her up by the waist and hoisted her onto the kitchen counter next to the sink. As she sat there, he moved in on her and with her making a ruckus, he put one of her knees over his left shoulder and one of her knees over his right shoulder. Without another word, he clamped his wide opened mouth on her reddish, curly pussy hair and stabbed forward with his tongue.
"Eeeeeeeeeee!" she squealed, her arms flailing a bit and finally leaning back against the cupboards.
"Eaten!" she proclaimed loudly. "Eaten! Eaten! Eaten!"
"Woman," he said, his head coming up and his face already shiny with her own wetness on it, "You're loud!"
"Sorry, Coach!" she whispered.
"No 'sorries'," he proclaimed with a grin, "Sing your song to me!"
"Yes, yes, yes, I will," she proclaimed.
"And I might like to be spanked!" this was said out of context but they both knew what she was saying.
He grinned at her and said: "Oh, revelation number two and I can probably do that!"
"Yes, yes," she said then, and grabbed him by the hair, seeking to get his wiggling tongue back to work on her.
He looked at her for a second and said: "But I'll never hurt you!"
"Oh, I know," she said as he did indeed go 'back to work' on her.
"Eaten! Eaten!" she cried out again.
She snatched the panties off of his head and stuck them into her mouth to keep her outcries from being too loud.
Then she had a thought, pulled the panties out of her mouth and shouted: "I should tell Joanie!"
"What?" he asked.
"Joanie Whalen," she said, "She's been helping me in my campaign to get a hold of you, and now I've got you."
He laughed at that, since it was him holding on to her but he moved quickly and snatched the nearby phone from its cradle and gave it to her.
"Call her! Tell her! Tell her that you're naked and that I'm eating you now!" he demanded.
She didn't hesitate. She dialed a number and then shouted into the phone:
"Joanie, it's me! Yes! Yes! Naked! Yes! He's eating me right now! ON THE COUNTER! Yes, I love you too!"
She hung up and looked at him a look of pride on her face. He went back to eating her immediately.
He had her in an advanced stage of excitement by then and she was moaning seriously and flailing around a bit on the counter. He grabbed her by the ass cheeks, working his hands under her ass to get hold of her that way, and renewed the efforts of his tongue and lips at her pussy, seeking, pushing, kissing, wiggling, sucking, poking and finding tender spots that he proceeded to work on earnestly.
Finally, she came with a shattering yell into the panties, which she'd put back into her mouth.
She ended spitting them out, and held onto his head saying, almost chanting: "Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray!"
He moved then, taking his wet face back out of her crotch and she slumped against the cabinets.
"I had no idea!" she sighed, "No idea that anything could feel like that! Oh, you wonderful man! Wonderful man!"
She reached over to the sink, on her left and fetched a cloth that she wetted and cleaned his face.
"Here," she cooed to him, "Ronnie's gonna clean up her boy friend! Clean him up good! And I have to tell you I might, I think, like to try anal sex some time."
He gazed at her and said: "Number three! Ronnie, Veronica Blake, Dr Veronica Blake, you are the entire package! Just the entire package. You have it all and that's what I want!"
"Yes, yes!" she said.
"Anal sex, eh?" he said grinning at her, and hauling her off the counter but immediately putting her on the kitchen table.
"Need to call anyone else?" he asked. "Dean? Chancellor? Department Head? Tell them that I'm going to fuck you now on the kitchen table!"
"Smart Ass!" she said loudly, "Fuck me, Mr Coach Smart Ass! Fuck me good and 'no' will never be in my sexual vocabulary!"
"Here I come, professor! Here I come, Dr Blake," he said fitting his erection into her wet pussy and beginning to move on top of her.
Then he changed his tone and said to her in a small voice: "Here I come to make love to my beautiful Ronnie!"
"Oh god but you are wonderful," she rasped, clasping her legs around his waist and hooking her heels together as he made love to her on the kitchen table.
He got her to come that way also, bringing her along with himself, and came right behind her, 'til they slumped together on the kitchen table and she held him tightly to herself.
"You make love so wonderfully!" she said. "And it's been so long, so long!"
"Yes," he agreed, "It has; so long!"
She spoke to him, as they lay there, covering a great part of the table:
"Ray, when I was young, just coming out of college, I was engaged. He jilted me; left me waiting, just waiting and only sent a note telling me that he'd changed his mind. I went into myself then and gave myself up to my academics, which I always loved. That's been my history until now! Until that plumber's crack!"
"Yes," he responded, "The plumber's crack!"
"I need to tell you that I might like it if you pinch my nipples a bit!" she said softly then.
"More important information!" he said.
But he went on seriously: "My Margaret, once the baby died, she was just ... just lost and never came back to me. It was a great loss, I mean losing both of them like that. And, I guess like you, I just put it all into what I did, coaching, and you've coaxed me back to life here!"
He kissed her then and said: "Ronnie, you are wonderful! Even if no more ever happens between us, you are wonderful. And I need to tell you that I want it all to happen between us!"
"Yes," she agreed, "After all, I've told you so many of my secrets!"
"Yes, but maybe not all!" he said, grinning at her.
"No," she said blushing, "Not all!"
"Tell me one more thing!" he went on.
"You've been so good that I will," she said. "Then it's getting to be time to go to your meeting."
He looked at the clock and said: "Crap that's right! Can I take you to lunch?"
"Yes, call me later," she concluded.
"But you were going to tell me!" he prompted her.
She blushed, and he said: "Oh, this is going to be a good one!"
She giggled and put her head against his shoulder and said: "I want you sweaty sometime, sweaty from a work out, and I want to lick your sweatiness and lick your sweaty armpits, and taste your sweaty, tangy not soapy cock!"
"Oho," he said, "Wild woman! My woman is bright, she is intelligent, she is loud, she is beautiful, she has a great ass and marvelous tits and SHE IS KINKY!"
She laughed as he said it and then whispered to him:
"And she bites!"
She bit his shoulder then, giving him a feral grin.
His response was to raise his head and kiss her.
"Meeting," He whispered. "Damn! Rather stay here and decorate the kitchen table!"
She giggled, as they got up and he began to dress.
"I'm not going to dress!" she said. "I need to call Joanie and talk to her but I'm gonna stay naked."
She got Joanie on the phone right away. Joanie almost shrieked into the phone, when she heard that it was Ronnie.
"Wanton!" Joanie crowed and Ronnie laughed.
"How was it?" she wanted to know.
"Well, I'd invite you over for coffee and dirty details," Ronnie said, "But I'm still naked!"
Joanie shrieked again.
"Wanton!" she said again, "At last!"
"Isn't that the case!" Ronnie said.
"I'm coming over, and I'll chance your gorgeous nakedness!" she said at last.
"Coffee's on and I'm naked!" Ronnie sang into the phone.
Ronnie decided almost as a dare to not dress. She waited for Joan to arrive and simply opened the door, when she got there. When she saw her, standing with her hands in the air in another theatrical gesture, Joan hooted and grabbed Ronnie into a hug.
"I'll put something on now," Ronnie said, "Wanted to waylay you first!"
"Don't dress on my account!" Joan said, and "Stan thanks you for the sex that he's going to get from me today, that you are inspiring!"
They both giggled and Ronnie fetched, from the laundry room, a long tee shirt and put it on almost as a dress.
"Well, how was he?" Joan asked.
"Fantastic!" Ronnie said and began to describe her encounter with Ray Warton.