Another fantasy of mine. The girls are based on real people. Becca is loosely based on my dearly beloved. Coach D is based loosely on a fine looking coworker. This is all fantasy and on a deadline. So, if it feels rushed, it was. As I've said in my previous post, constructive criticism is always welcome.
There are advantages to being a unicorn in the teaching world. In this case, being dual certified to teach both a foreign language and advanced math mean I can pretty much tell a kid to fuck off to his face and not have much more than a wrist slap. If that. Paying one salary is better than two. And I do what I can to make sure it doesn’t go to my head. Much.
But the best advantage is that I get to use the gym after hours, once all the kids go home for the day. I made a deal with the chief of maintenance for the building and managed to get myself a master key and the code to the alarm system. As long as I promised to lock up after myself he was cool with me staying after hours to work out. At a case of beer every month or so and me buying some BBQ off of him when I needed it, it was cheaper than a gym membership.
I’m not as young as I used to be but I keep in shape. I can bench my weight and squat and dead lift quite a bit more. Not bad for, as the kids said, and old man that had just turned 40. Sometimes, if schedules permitted, I’d go and work out with some of the football team and coach/learn. Usually, I liked to be left alone and just lift for the sake of lifting. I wasn’t a beast, by their standards but benching my own weight at 240 and being able to squat and dead what I could meant I could hold my own against most of the young bucks. And the ones I couldn’t take and I still had a certain level of respect for each other. Youth and skill are one thing. “Old” age and treachery are another. And it’s just about enough for me to be able to keep up with the wife.
The wife is something else. If lifting is a hobby (and a reasonably serious one) for me, then it’s damned near a religion for her. Her strength, and sheer bloody mindedness, made her a force to be reckoned with. As long as she wasn’t in her cups, she could be reasonable and quite charming. Give her a few strong ales or a good bit of Jameson’s and she could be...well, if she was in a good mood, the intimate time could be quite erotically exciting. If not...one of us would have a very good time. It just wasn’t going to be me. Fortunately, I was smart enough to usually keep her in a good mood. We had, and have, a good relationship. We met in college when were both sophomores and kept up, and more, throughout our time and finally married when we were done with school. She’s always used her strength, compared to mine, as an aphrodisiac. When I’m in top form, we’re a more or less even match. And she likes it. I don’t hold back if we tussle. If I let myself go and don’t hit the gym, it’s all I can do to not embarrass myself against her. And she loves it. She’s got just a bit of a mean streak but doesn’t ever let it get out of hand. Except….well, we love each other. and sometimes you have to forgive. Even if it is a few broken bones. But we’ve made a good life together. Sure, it’s an odd relationship. But what can I do?
In any event, I’d arranged to have tutoring so I could stay late and hit the gym afterwards. This time of year, it got dark early and the custodians were eager to get out. I made sure to make my assurances that I’d lock up and make sure the alarms were set with the chief and took off to the weight room. I warmed up and stretched as much as I had the patience to and got to it. I had headphones on and was blasting Sabaton while going through a routine. Suffice it to say, I wasn’t really paying attention to my surroundings…
“Goodness, you weren’t kidding. He’s really pushing himself” Michaela “Mike” De la Cruz said to Becca Saldaña, my wife. “Of course he is. He knows what will happen to him if he lets himself go. I don’t want to hurt him and he knows it. But he also knows he has to do his part. And if he can stand up to me, I’m pretty sure he can survive you, dear”. Mike and Becca were a duo that I wouldn’t quite know about until tonight. I did know they were besties since college, had trained together (though for different reasons) throughout their relationship, and Coach Mike was the one person every male on campus would agree was the textbook brunette bombshell. While Rebecca “Becca” Saldaña had trained because she liked training and having that physical power over people, Coach trained to look good. The power was a bonus. She’d competed in a few figure competitions in the region and had done well. But never enough to advance to the big leagues. The height differential was hilarious. At just under 6 feet even, Becca was a giant of a woman. At just a shade over 5 feet, Mike looked like a midget. A very shapely, very busty midget. But she was easily 120 pounds of solid muscle could make even “appropriate” coaching gear give all the boys funny ideas. She was never “officially” out of uniform but she knew how to make her looks work to her advantage, no matter what she was wearing. And she’d had to put a few of the boys in their place on occasion, when they’d gotten some “funny ideas” so she had a rep around the building as someone not to be fucked with. And not to be told “no” to when she really wanted something.
It was a stroke of coincidence that had put us on the same campus after we had all finished our certs and degrees. In an effort to “diversify” the district had been desperate to seek out younger, successful, Latinos for the kids to look up to. We didn’t have the heart to break it to them that, if they were looking up to us, maybe they needed to reconsider their plan. But it got us reasonably paying jobs and enough time off to put up with most of the bullshit. My Scots-Irish/German born Valkyrie needn’t have applied but she was perfectly happy managing a bio-lab at the local medical school. We’d all kept pretty close after we’d graduated and Mike, knowing that I was looking for a job, had set me up. Mike would come over to our place infrequently and we’d chat at work when timing allowed. But usually it was Becca that would go out and meet her for girl’s nights out. Tonight, I would find out why….
I first started to figure out something was wrong was when the weight I was benching became much heavier in mid lift. Eight should have been easy enough. Ten should have been difficult. Two should not have, all of a sudden, become impossible. And the sudden pressure around my lower chest was a surprise too. Having my eyes closed put me at a disadvantage. When I opened them, I looked straight into the face of Coach D. I was pressing back as best I could but it was all I could do hold the bar at bay. And by the look on her face, she wasn’t really trying all that hard. She just looked at me as dispassionately as you please. Almost predatory.
“Hold!” I heard a suspiciously familiar voice over “The Last Stand” album. “Tsk Tsk. Situational awareness, Dear. I’ve warned you about that before.” That came out much clearer as the earbuds were pulled out of my ears and I heard the voice of my Dearly Beloved. She was right of course, but at work and after hours, seemed like hardly the time to be looking out for assassin babes trying to take out a secret agent….math teacher. “Um...Hi, Honey.” I was able to grunt out as our high school girls PE coach was, apparently, trying to kill me. “Hello, Pet” she said. “No doubt you’re trying to figure out what’s going on right now. Since you’re obviously in a predicament, I’m going to spell it out for you. And I’ll use small words so you can understand it clearly.” “Gee, thanks” I thought as I kept the pressure up on the barbell. “Mike here has been in a dry spell of late and is having a bit of trouble with the toys she seems to keep picking up. It appears they break easily and that spoils her enjoyment. So I’ve decided that she can borrow you for a while. Since you can, usually, survive our more intense intimate encounters, you should be able to provide a decent amount of entertainment for her. Do your job well and you will be rewarded. Disappoint us….” She left the very obvious threat hanging in the air. In the meantime I was pushing as much as possible to keep the 200 pounds of weight and the very determined looking young woman from strangling me.
“Mike! Let him up! What good is he going to be to you if you hurt him before you even get a chance to take him on on the mat?” Coach very grudgingly let off the pressure on the bar and even helped to put it back on the rack. As she took some of the weight she made sure to sink down a little and put her sweats in my face. It was very obvious that she was enjoying what she was doing. The fabric was already quite damp and it wasn’t from sweat. This was about to get really interesting.
“The rules are quite simple. You will fight. You will each try to subdue the other, no holds barred. The winner will have their way with the loser. Who wins is of no importance to me, but you will amuse me. Or else.” “Yes, Mistress” we both replied. That was unexpected. I really focused on Coach’s face and saw the look of near adoration that she gave Becca. “Well, that’s interesting” I thought. She’s another sub. A toy for my wife to play with and amuse herself with. And tonight, we were both going to be her playthings. While I’d been completely absorbed in my workout, the ladies had laid out a bunch of mats for us to wrestle on. Coach and I walked out to the mats and were getting ready to square off. Becca cleared her throat in a “Aren’t you forgetting something?” way. She was either feeling very generous or very impatient because, at my look of confusion, she said, “Clothes. Off. Now. Both of you. My amusement, remember? That my dear Micaela is finally getting some action is just a bonus.”
We both looked at each other, me just being kind of bewildered at the nights events and her with the eyes of a predator about to finally catch up with it’s dinner.
She started stripping out her sweats. Now that I had a bit of distance I could see what was under the not quite baggy enough sweats she always wore. Micaela had never been shy around me and had always filled out a bikini quite nicely if we were at the pool or the beach. Training for figure competitions had done her body good. She was done with figure it seemed. She was still short but she’d gone from athletic to “walking anatomy poster”. All of her muscles were well defined and, her diminutive height notwithstanding, she was easily a hundred and forty or fifty pounds of solid muscle. I guess she thought she would give me something to worry because she popped a most muscular pose really bringing out the definition. She was just amazing to look at. And her breasts were just spectacular. Easily 36 C. Big enough to be just more than a handful but not so much as to be unwieldy. And they just defied gravity. Becca saw this and let out a low laugh and made some comment that sounded like “Oh you’re so screwed….” “Thanks for that vote of confidence, Love” I thought.
My mind was still reeling at the new information. Becca had another sub. So the “girls nights out” were more than just going out for drinks and goofing off. This was a dynamic I hadn’t really considered before, for all the time we’d been together. Granted, being on the sub end of things myself, it’s not like my opinions mattered. We understood each other and our relationship worked, odd as it was. The fact that Mike and Becca were always together added up. And it explained why, when we were on vacation she was always around. And she was easy on the eyes so it’s not like I was going to complain. I didn’t really see anything wrong with what was going on, but I did wonder where this was going to le…..
Coach took my distraction for an invitation and used it to her advantage. The only thing that saved me from a savage punch to the gut was that she’d telegraphed the move and her motion caught my eye in just enough time to react and flex my abs to absorb the impact. It hurt like a sonafabitch, but I was able to withstand it. Barely. She was vicious. Punch after punch. And the power. Where she connected, the pain was brutal. It became obvious though, over time, that she was also not a trained fighter. Neither was I, technically, but I’d sparred enough with some of the martial arts wannabe’s on the football team that I started to figure out what was going on with her fighting style. In short, she didn’t have one. She’d been counting on taking me down with her initial blow. She hadn’t counted on me being able to take it and was resorting to the only trick she knew. Brute force. And she had a lot of it to draw on. Her muscle packed frame just was just dripping with power and she was using all she had. But she lacked a certain amount of finesse. Just enough to let me dodge and start trying to figure out what to do about this. She had power but she couldn’t connect with every shot. I had reach on her but I’d been brought up not to hit girls. And my recent married life should make it clear that being the dominant one wasn’t exactly up my alley. But this was also obviously a test of some sort, “Don’t disappoint me” she’d said. I needed to do something. And “have my way with her” was not something I was ready to contemplate just yet. While the thought of bending Coach over the weight bench was enticing, it was far enough out of what I’d expect to be allowed, let alone expected, to do to really warrant serious thought.
The flurry of hits I was taking was really starting to take a toll. If I was going to do anything I needed to do it soon. Given what I’d seen so far, I decided to take a chance. She was announcing to anyone who was paying attention what her next move would be so if I timed it just righ… BOOM. Connection! She was trying to gut punch me again and the telegraph, plus the fact that I was a good 8 inches taller than her let me put a fist across her left jaw. My only real mistake was not to hit her harder. She was shocked enough that just kind of stood there for a second. Enough for me to think that I might be able to win this after all. Turns out all I’d done was piss her off. Now she really came at me and it was all I could do to fend her off. But still just punches and the occasional kick. Maybe, just maybe, if I could get her close enough….Sure enough, she came in swinging and, with a little bit of a juke, and a whole hell of a lot of luck, I was able to grab her in a bear hug, lift her off the mat, and start squeezing. Now she was really mad. She started thrashing around and it was like trying to hold on to a greased pig. I kept the pressure up and after a minute she started to settle down. Even the shrieking started to taper off. Thank whatever deity you want to believe in that they’d probably cleared the building before trying to pull of this little stunt. As it was, I was sure the whole county could here Mike’s whooping and hollering. But she was quieting down. I turned us around so I could see what my “better half” thought of this and found out that she must have been enjoying this to some degree. Her hand was down the front of her gym shorts and the noises she was making made it seem like we were doing something right. “Oh! You’re done already. That’s unfortunate but not surprising. I told her she needed to rely on more than brute force. Oh well, I did say the winner would be able to..”
It was just about that point that Mike let out just a bit of giggle. I had just enough time to look down and see the “oh you poor bastard” look on her face before she shoved a knee into my guts. Did I mention how much muscle she’d put on? Because it was lot. It was like being hit by a pile driver. Before I could really register what I was doing I’d let her go. Still laughing, she sent a quick, sharp, jab into my nuts. Because of course she would add insult to injury. Sub or no sub, she was going to take Becca’s orders to heart. Doubled over, I was just low enough to the ground for her to straddle my neck and shoulders. I saw her cross her ankles and knew I was in for a world of hurt. And she let me have it. Her thighs were so thick she wasn’t just squeezing my neck but she was putting a ton of pressure on the rest of my head. I couldn’t hear very well but, just as I was starting to pass out from lack of blood flow to the brain I could hear Becca laughing her ass off. “I guess some things were just as good as getting yourself off” was the last thing I remember thinking as I blacked out.
I came to with someone slapping the sh.. and of course it was Becca. “Oh dear. I knew this was a possibility. But I was so hoping you might be able to beat some sense into Michaela. Oh well. You have one final shot to make things right. I’ve talked up your stamina to her before and you might be just the thing to satiate her needs. If you can keep junior up to the task you might just make it through the night. But you did lose. So I’m afraid you’re going to have to do double duty now. Fortunately, I’m feeling generous tonight.” Now that I’d snapped to enough to get a better appreciation of what was going on I could see that I was laid out on the mats with Becca looking down at me facing my feet. Coach D, on the other hand was on her knees between my legs and facing Becca. “Now Mike, I told you that you could have him however you want. And you can see what he has available. You may amuse yourself but, remember, it’s because I allow it.” “Yes, Mistress. As you say.”
She grabbed my cock in her hands and started stroking. And she wasn’t too gentle about it either. Given my own proclivities I wasn’t going to complain about it. It was about that time that it registered that Becca was still talking to me. “Since you couldn’t beat some sense into this waif, and you ruined a perfectly good orgasm by letting yourself lose, I’m going to need you to finish the job.” That’s when I was noticed that she’d stripped the shorts off and was starting to squat on my face. “Well craphhhlshdfh” was about all I could get out. I couldn’t breath very well but sensation was amazing. On one end I had my Amazon of a wife riding my face. I couldn’t see very much except the musculature of her ass, and some glimpses of her broad back, as she moved over my face. I knew better than to leave her wanting and tongued her clit and pussy as she ground down on me. In the meantime, I’d gotten hard enough that Coach D had stopped stroking and squatted down on my dick. It was like fucking a vice. But Becca hadn’t been lying. For reasons that neither of us could figure out, I could hold out as long as Coach wanted. That I was distracted by a giant weight on my head that could cheerfully snuff me out made no never mind. I would find out later that Coach never really rode me. She just kind of squatted there. She had absurdly good control of her vaginal muscles and was able to flex them in a way that made it feel as if she were bouncing all over my cock. But she was certainly not about to let me move. And neither was Becca. They both worked me over and, as if they were coordinating with each other they climaxed as one. From the video I saw later (because someone had to break into the cctv system and copy, then delete, any incriminating evidence from the school’s system) Becca and Mike were kissing, and otherwise playing, with each other while using me to get off. Not that they were going to allow me that pleasure. I figured I’d join in the joint orgasm but they both had other ideas. Just as she felt me stiffen, Coach clamped down harder than I could imagine on my cock and smothered the orgasm out of me. At the same time, Becca, knowing what was happening and dealing with her own climax, crushed down on me, put her hands to the mat, straightened her legs and squeezed with all the power she was capable of. I thought any number of unkind things at my mistress as I blacked out. None of which I could do anything about.
I woke up several hours later back at our house and nursing a massive headache. Becca was in a skimpy night gown that left absolutely nothing to the imagination and was standing at the foot of the bed. I was able to sit up a bit against the headboard when she started to speak. “You performed amazingly, Pet. I must admit, I was expecting you to lose. But you held up to the punishments so well. And for that you should be rewarded” She crawled into the bed towards me at, which point, I noticed that I was still naked. She grabbed my cock in her firm, but gentle hand and started to stroke me. She never broke eye contact as she expertly sucked me off. The whole time, I couldn’t stop watching her muscular forearm working my dick and wondering just where this revelation with Coach was going to lead...
