Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 48306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
“Waverly—”
“Yes,” she whispers. “Coach, I—”
“Jesus Christ, Waverly. Why me?”
“I—”
She pauses, breathing heavily.
“You don’t know?”
I frown. “What do you mean.”
“Camden, I…” she clears her throat. “Maybe I should go—”
“Waverly—”
“Because I’ve wanted you since the second you walked into that first practice after you were hired!”
Her words blurt out in a rush, and I hear her breath catch right after they do.
“Sorry, that… I didn’t mean to—”
“Play with your pussy, baby.”
Both of us go quiet, and I know we’ve officially left all sanity behind.
“Camden,” she moans eagerly.
“Let me hear you touch that pretty pussy,” I groan, my hand tightening on my cock as I begin to stroke.
“You’re not mad?”
“No, Waverly,” I say quietly. “I’m not mad, I just fucking want you too.”
Ladies and gentlemen, rational thought has left the building.
She coos softly, and when I hear her breath catch, I grunt, knowing she’s touching herself. I stroke faster, growling lowly as my balls tighten and my abs clench.
“Are you…” she whimpers hoarsely.
“Yeah, baby,” I growl, clenching my jaw as my cock swells bigger than it’s ever been in my hand.
“Oh fuck,” she gasps, moaning as she plays with her pussy. “You’re really… you know.”
“Stroking my big cock thinking about how much I want to drive over there and use my fingers instead of yours? Yeah,” I hiss, my blood roaring in my ears as my hand strokes up and down every thick inch of my cock.
“Yeah, baby girl, that is exactly what I’m doing.”
“Camden,” she moans, her breath rasping and heavy in my ear, driving me insane and pushing me towards that edge.
“Camden, I’m… oh fuck, I’m gonna come!”
The world blurs around me, until all I know is the sound of her moans and the feel of my throbbing cock ready to explode.
“I want you to come for me, Waverly,” I grunt. “Play with that pretty little pussy and let me hear you fucking come for me. Make that tight little cunt all wet and messy for me, baby girl.”
She gasps sharply, moaning faster and faster, her breathy whimpers filling my ears until I know I’m past the point of no return.
“Are you hard right now?”
I groan. “Baby, I’m so fucking hard for you.”
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh FUCK!” she gasps, her breath choking until suddenly, she cries out into my ear.
“Coach! I’m coming! I’m coming!”
And just like that, I’m lost. She moans her orgasm through the phone, and I lose it completely. My cock throbs, my heavy, cum-filled balls drawing up tight before suddenly, it comes blasting from my swollen head. Hot spurts of my sticky white cum arc into the air to splatter down across my abs as I grunt into the phone. The sound of her pleasure and her release just keeps coming, and I just keep on stroking, growling my own pleasure as more and more of my cum shoots into the air to cover my cock, my hand, and my abs, until we both come to a gasping stop.
“Waverly,” I growl quietly.
“Coach,” she purrs, and it’s like her calling me that over Camden just makes the whole thing even more wrong, in a way that has my dick staying rock hard.
“I—oh fuck. One second!”
“I have to go!” she blurts.
“See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow,” she purrs.
The line goes dead, and I groan as I sink back into the couch. My mind spins, my entire world is upside down, and I’m still trying to catch my breath as the clarity settles over me.
Yeah, I’m beyond “in trouble.”
…I think I’m fucked.
6
Waverly
I run until it feels like my legs are going to give out—until my lungs burn and my thighs shake, and until there’s a blankness to my mind.
This is what I do to blow off steam sometimes. It’s like my mediation, really. I mean swimming can’t be everything, and at some point, I need to get out of the water for the sake of my skin, right? So, running is just something else I’ve always done. It’s not really for the exercise—I mean, I’m barely able to eat enough to fuel the workouts I get from competitive swimming. But the mental reset it gives me is like nothing else.
We don’t live that far from the Winchester campus, but I stumble to a panting stop there instead of heading all the way across the main quad to get home. It’s getting darker earlier and earlier, and the light is almost entirely gone by the time I stagger through one of the side gates onto the campus and do a light jog over to the gymnasium.
My student keycard swipes me into the building, my pulse still racing as I head towards the locker rooms. There’s a sign and plastic wrap over the door to the men’s locker rooms—apparently, they’re doing some plumbing work later tonight, but I just head past it to the women’s room and slip inside. Again, it’s not like my house is that far, but I also need to snag a bunch of laundry still in my locker here, so it works out.