Coach Kristen - Sex Stories

Coach Kristen

... legs were bare to my eyes and the red leather heels she was wearing put her up to about 5’05; five inches taller than she usually was. She swung around, and her long, dyed red hair swung freely. She turned her back to me and told me to come in and make myself at home. I did as I was told while admiring her ass which was definitely not the most impressive feature she possessed, but it was still quite enjoyable. I followed her, asking her where she wanted me to sit the two bags that I had brought with me. “What did you bring,” she asked. “Vodka, Bourbon and beer,” I replied. “Ok, well… Ummm… Let’s just take it to the kitchen and then we can put it in there.” “Sounds good to me.” She exaggerated the shimmy of her hips, which accentuated the curvature of her ass in the tight jean skirt. Her movements were made even sexier by the red heels that forced her to saunter instead of walk. I watched, slowly becoming more and more hypnotized by the sexy sway of her lower half. I prayed silently to the gods that I could see her in just only the heels. “Just sit them on the table,” she said, switching the light on and turning around to point out the small, two-person table in the corner of an even smaller kitchen. I walked past her and gently sat the bags on the table and then asked if she wanted a drink. “I already have one sweetie, but I’d be glad to make you one if you’d like,” she said with a tone that could have been mistaken for seductive. “Um, actually just one of my beers would be ...

... fine,” I said, trying not to sound too nervous. “Ok. One beer it is. Would you like it in a glass? I’ve got chilled mugs in the freezer,” she said, pointing a long finger to the fridge. Her fingernails were painted the same red color as her shirt and heels. “A mug is fine,” I said. She grabbed a beer from the bag and popped the top with a bottle opener. She walked over to the fridge and pulled a 16oz. mug from the freezer. It was clouded by frost so when she poured the dark lager into the glass it looked almost opaque. She got closer to me than she needed to and handed me the ice cold glass. The distinct smell of lilacs entered my nostrils. ‘Must be her perfume,’ I thought. I thanked her for the drink and then my eyes uncontrollably made their way down to her cleavage which was on full display to my more than thankful eyes. Quickly I looked back up and we made eye contact. There was a smile on her face that told me immediately that she had caught me. “It’s ok,” she said. “You can look. I didn’t wear this shirt just to see how many times I can catch you stealing glances of my tits.” “Sorry,” I said habitually. It’s ok. Most guys and girls can’t help but look, especially if I’m wearing a low cut shirt.” “Well…It is pretty low cut,” I said, looking back down and the cherry red halter top that she was wearing. It was tied in the back, and roughly five inches of cleavage were exposed in the front. I had a suspicion that maybe, just maybe, she had planned this; and since she said it ...