Beth made no effort to take back her leg. Dean massaged her foot, then her ankle. He kneaded her calf and bent slowly until he was rubbing her inner thigh. Beth pushed forward in the tub until he was brushing against her shaved vagina. Dean knelt on the bathroom floor and gave Beth all of his attention.
“Stop teasing me,” she whispered, and spread her legs.
Dean smiled. He gently entered her pussy with one finger and made very small circular motions. Beth leaned her head back and moaned with mounting pleasure. Dean inserted another finger and worked tenderly. He watched her face, her closed eyes, her slightly open mouth. The bathwater lapped at her breasts, then receded, then lapped again.
A small wave of pleasure rushed over Beth Miller. Then another. “Go faster,” she said, barely audible. “God, go faster Dean. You don’t know how good this feels.”
He slid his fingers in and out of her cunt harder and faster. He could feel her clit, stiff, looking for some of the attention. The gentle rolling bathwater a minute ago was more of a splash now as he rocketed his middle two fingers in and out of Beth. She was pinching her nipples and massaging her tits.
“Oh, Jesus! Fuck me with your fingers. Go.”
Dean watched Beth’s orgasm take control of her. She shivered and twisted. She closed her thighs on his pistoning hand and fingers. Water splashed out of the tub and onto the floor. Dean slowed his hand and gently rubbed her clitoris. Her bald cunt was velvet to the palm of his hand.
“That was awesome,” she said at last. The water in the bathtub was still again. Dean had a gigantic erection.
“You are beautiful when you come,” Dean said.
“I just need something in my mouth to make this the greatest bath ever. Got any ideas?”
Dean stood up and Beth stared at his penis. His foreskin was pulled back with no hope of covering the erect enlarged head of his cock. He stepped into the tub and stood above her.
And then they heard two car doors slam, and front door of the house open.
“Shit!” Dean’s first thought was to run, and run fast.
Beth was calmer. “Close the bathroom door and lock it.”
Dean did just that and stood in the middle of the small bathroom and felt the walls closing in on him. In a second there was a knock on the door and a woman’s voice.
“Beth? Are you all right, honey?”
“Hi Laura. I’m fine. Just taking a bubble bath. I’m going to catch up with some friends tonight and wanted to get cleaned up. You and dad are back early.”
Beth’s stepmother tried the knob of the bathroom door and what was left of Dean’s boner disappeared altogether. “Taking a Jacuzzi sounded like more fun than spending more of your father’s money so we came home.”
“Great,” Beth said. She sounded genuine. Dean looked at the tub and saw Beth smiling, doing everything she could not to laugh. “I’ll be out in a little while.”
“We’ll be on the deck.”
“Beth?” This time the voice was male. Dean recognized it as Coach Miller’s voice.
“Hi Dad.”
“Isn’t that Dean Allen’s car in the driveway?”
Beth stopped smiling. Shit, she thought. “Yeah. It was here when I got home this morning. He left a note. Said something like he had car problems and hoped he could leave it here. He was going fishing with some friends and didn’t want to take a chance. The note said you could call him on his cell phone if leaving it was a problem. I think I left the note on the counter in the kitchen.”
Beth’s explanation sounded phony even to her. How would her father ever believe it? But he did.
“Maybe I’ll give him a call,” her father said, his voice trailing off as he walked down the hall.
Dean sighed with relief. Beth smiled from ear to ear. “C’mere,” she whispered. “I’m horny again.”
Dean flipped her off. He doubted he would ever get an erection again.
In Beth’s bedroom Dean’s clothes were in a pile on the floor. He reached for them trying to be a quiet as possible. Beth did not try to be as quiet.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Getting dressed, what else?”
“May I remind you of our bet?”
“Beth, I’ve got to get out of here. Your dad will…”
“Then you lose the bet.”
“What could be worse than your father catching me naked with his only daughter?”
Beth smiled a chilling smile. “You never know.”
They heard the Jacuzzi start up.
“What do you suggest?” Dean asked, still whispering.
“I strongly suggest you keep your end of the deal and let me handle everything else.”
***
Dean sat in the dark at the foot of Beth’s bed, naked, too afraid to move let alone turn on the 15” color Sony TV just three feet in front of him. Crazily, he thought of Texas Hold ‘Em and the craze of televised poker tournaments. How do those guys know when to fold their hand? A bet is a bet, but what if you have a losing hand? Bluffing is part of poker, but how will he be able bluff when Coach Miller catches him naked in his daughter’s bedroom? Know when to hold ‘em, right? Know when to fold ‘em. Know when to walk away.
Walking away was not an option. Oh, he could walk away—his clothes were in a clump on the floor ten feet away—but he wasn’t going to. Dean thought back to what he’d said the night before, or the afternoon before that, whatever: Wherever this relationship is going, Beth, you are in charge.
He heard voices at the Jacuzzi. Beth’s bedroom had a sliding glass door that opened onto a deck above the Jacuzzi on the ground floor. A wooden spiral staircase descended to the patio and the whirlpool. Beth was saying goodnight. Her father told her to be home early or call if she was going to be late. Beth asked for a kiss and her father obliged. In a few minutes he heard a car pull away from the front of the house and felt more naked than ever.
I’m going to die here, Dean thought to himself. He turned away from the door and leaned against the wall…and thought about trust. Trust. With a capital T. Two days ago he trusted himself, his parents, his coach, and little else. And by today he’d lied to himself, his parents, and, implicitly, his coach. He didn’t trust Amy in Europe, or, well, anywhere else for that matter: he just didn’t trust Amy. Maybe he never had. Beth and Amy were different. Right? Trust: the net that is supposed to be there when you miss the ring and fall inside the Big Top full of people. Trust. He felt like he was on the trapeze and Beth had tossed him the ring. Trust is reaching out and knowing the ring will be there.
Dean reached out, but the room was still empty.
Outside there were voices again. Muffled. Dean turned back to the sliding glass door and pressed an ear to it. In his head he gathered his courage; in his pelvis his balls tightened and his penis turtled. He slid the door, opened it about two feet, and listened.
The whirlpool had reached an even undulation; an outdoor ceiling fan, closer to Beth’s door than the spa, was even and refreshing.
“Show me that fat dick, Marty.” Dean heard Laura’s voice.
Dean imagined the coach sitting on the side of the whirlpool with legs dangling in, Laura wading, feet on the bottom, somewhere in the middle of the small pool. He’d never met Laura, and only seen her at a handful of home games over the past couple of years. Brunette, petite, pretty, full lips, always with a Tigers’ cap to cover green eyes and a faraway stare. Laura was twenty-eight and every coach’s dream second wife.
Dean opened the door a little more. Soon he was crouching on the deck looking down on Coach Miller and his bride. He got on his knees but stayed in the shadows. A soft southerly breeze washed over him and found his penis. He liked the way the wind kissed his cock and made him feel strong. On all fours Dean looked over the edge into the whirlpool.
Coach Miller was sitting on the side of the pool. He was leaning back stroking his unit. One hand was on the cement surrounding the Jacuzzi, the other was bopping his lazy, soft manhood. Laura pushed away the water between her and the coach as she walked closer to him. Her ample breasts treaded water and Dean loved the way her dark areolas played against the lights from the pool. Her nipples were hard and larger than Beth’s. Soon she was between him and the coach and Dean was looking over her shoulder. Her back was straight as it crossed the pool; Dean could see the muscles in her shoulders. Her hair was wet, matted against her neck and back, just long enough to tease her shoulder blades. When she reached the side of the Jacuzzi Coach Miller leaned forward and softly touched either side of her head. He brought it to his face and kissed her. Laura accepted his kiss, and then leaned into his lap.
Dean felt his cock getting a little stiffer. He dared to press his head through the wooden slats of the railing and watched Laura hunched over into Coach Miller’s lap. The coach’s legs wrapped around her shoulders and his head was thrown back; he bucked his hips in time to her head bobs. She stroked his cock as she stuffed it into her mouth; her legs were spread far apart under the clear water of the Jacuzzi. Dean thought how great it would be to slip in behind her and fuck her while she swallowed his coach. Laura reached between her legs with her right hand and pushed one or two fingers into her muff. Now her hips were undulating in time with Coach Miller’s bucks and her own head bobs.
Leave a Reply