On Thursday morning, I stepped into the Winter Valley Junior High lobby half-expecting to be greeted by Principal Van Buren. After all, I could still taste the remnants of his daughter's pussy that I enjoyed as I rewarded her after the previous practice. This temporary substitute teaching position that turned into coaching the co-ed basketball team was going to kill me.
Fortunately, I saw no sign of the man. Breathing a sigh of relief, I took two steps into the building before hearing my name.
"Mr. Wilson," screeched the shrill voice that belonged to his secretary, Miss Hamilton. The woman knew me from my days about a decade earlier roaming the halls and being sent to her boss for punishment. She was fresh out of high school then and hadn't lost any of her sex appeal since. A lot of us committed minor infractions just to sit outside her office and day dream.
"Hello, Miss Hamilton," I said as I turned.
"There are no children around. You can call me Lexie." She smiled at me, an expression foreign to her face in her official posture. "Oh, yes. The principal sent me to find you first thing. He's off at a district meeting this morning, but he wanted to say that his daughter came home ecstatic from the practice last night. Whatever you are doing with those children is making a lasting impression."
My tongue made a nervous trip across my upper lip, unconsciously of course. I hoped the eagle-eyed woman hadn't caught it.
"Now, now. Not during school hours," she said softly with a slight blush. "But check with me when I have my appointment book open." She glanced up and down the deserted hall. "If there's anything I could do to… help the team, let me know."
As she sauntered away, I noticed the wiggle in her walk. I stored the conversation in my memory bank. I never turn down a volunteer.
For the second day in a row, Dottie Madison joined me while I was brewing my special concoction for practice. This time she brought a friend. "Hey, Frankenstein. I'd like you to meet Candy Layne. She's the advisor for our cheerleaders, the She-Wolves."
I glanced over at the new visitors and did a quadruple take. The new arrival looked like she might have just graduated from the cheerleader squad. Her blonde and brown streaked hair was pulled back in a ponytail extending down her back. Her smile exposed all thirty-two pearly white teeth. Her bloody red lipstick and blue-green-violet eyeshadow made her look ready to perform in front of the camera. She wore a thin knit shirt that looked almost painted on her slim figure, one with the smallest breasts I had seen on a grown woman in years. If I ran into her, I'd have said she was fifteen tops.
"Quit drooling," said Dottie. "Candy has a proposition for you."
First Hamilton and now this woman. Eat one pussy, and the world beats a path to your bedroom.
"The girls will be practicing next week after school," said Candy. "We were wondering, no, make that offering, to visit your practices and maybe give a little inspiration to your team. After all, we want another trophy in that trophy case as soon as we can. Maybe it would break the jinx the teams at the school seem to have."
"Ah, um, yeah. That would be all right, I guess."
"Good," she said in a perky voice. "See ya, Monday or maybe Tuesday." I half expected to see her exit with a series of back handsprings and walkovers or even cartwheels.
"Wake up," said Dottie, snapping me out of yet another fantasy. "I never saw you so tongue-tied before. She's just another girl."
I shook my head and turned back to my equipment. "Wait, you said her name was Candy. Not Candice." An aura of recognition came over me. "I knew her. She was the second girl I ever…"
"Was she as tangy back then as she is now?" asked Dottie. Without waiting for my answer, my partner in crime left before the gravity of her words sunk in. My tongue started traversing my upper lip on its own again.
Practice began at 3:30 on the dot. I had never experienced players so focused on their game before. After their ration of my potion in their sports drink and a bit of warm-up, I brought them in for the new assignment. I had thought long and hard about the next phase.
"Today, I'm going to break the team into two squads and play a simulated game. Coach Madison and I will stop play after every basket and perhaps on turnovers. It won't flow like the real game, but we can make adjustments easier after that. I know that might make the game feel harder, but try it and see."
I glanced from face to face, finding a competitive fire in each player. "While you are playing on defense, I have a rule. Play close, but do not touch the offensive player. If you do, it will be like a shock to your hand. It is better to allow a shot than make a foul. Understand?"
The players nodded their heads that they understood and accepted the new rule.
I motioned for Dottie to take the far basket to line up under. "Don't read anything into the assignments. Still a work in progress. With Coach Madison, I want Curtis at center, Bonnie and Kimmy at the forwards, Cassie as shooting guard and Emma as point guard. Go on down there."
I looked at those left, especially the crestfallen face of Vicky. "No sour faces," I said.
"But they must be the starters," said the distraught red-haired girl. I was sure this would get back to her father, the principal.
"Appearances can be deceiving. I need to balance the squads, and I suspect this squad can hold its own against the other. Are you ready to give it your all?"
"Yes, Coach," they said in unison.
"Assignments, Robby, you are at center. Vicky and Rocky, you are forwards, Sandy, you will handle the ball at point guard. That leaves Melissa as our shooting guard."
Her four teammates stared daggers at the girl in the black-framed glasses. They suspected she was the weak link.
"Maybe I should…" started Vicky.
"Let it play out," I said interrupting her objection. "Now, for purposes of this game, you are designated the Skins Team."
That drew blank looks from the girls, but Robby instinctively pulled his jersey over his head. "What?" he said as the others gawked at his exposed muscular barrel chest. "Isn't that what you meant, Coach?"
I nodded, and the girls removed their jerseys. "Bras too?" asked Vicky as she stood there in another white training bra.
"Yep. Down to the skin."
Once embarrassment passed, I placed them on the floor. "Robby, you will be under the basket guarding the back of Curtis when he is down here. Vicky and Rocky, you follow the forwards. Sandy, you follow the ball between the two guards. Shift to help her if they move the ball quickly. It's almost like three guards can cover four shooters that way."
"What about me?" squeaked Melissa.
"You stay in front of Curtis, your arms up high, to prevent him from receiving the ball."
"But how will I know where he moves to?"
I smiled. "You will be facing him. Just keep focus on his eyes."
"But what if the ball hits me?"
"Then you did your job."
It took a minute for the concept to sink in. She couldn't flinch away from the ball if she never saw it coming. "Brilliant," she said with a mischievous grin. "You are so brilliant." I wanted to see if it worked before patting myself on the back.
"Whenever you are ready," I yelled up the court.
The five Shirts as the fully uniformed squad was normally referred to, broke their huddle and inbounded the ball. Little Emma trailed the phalanx of teammates ready to mow down the Skins. I sensed an overconfidence in the smirks on their faces. Good. They were ready for a hard lesson.
On defense, my triangle pulled back, letting the Shirts cross the mid court line easily. Curtis quickly took his position just to the left of the basket. Only the shorter Robby provided any challenge. This would be easy-peasy.
Emma and Cassie tossed the ball back and forth in a game of Monkey in the Middle with Sandy. On the third exchange, Emma tossed the ball at Curtis. Out of nowhere, an arm appeared in the trajectory of the ball, deflecting it out of bounds.
"Reset," I yelled.
The Shirts retrieved the errant ball and retreated to the other end. A few seconds later they inbounded the ball again and ran the same play. This time a better pass only grazed Melissa's fingertip before it bounced off the outstretched hands of Curtis.
For the third attempt, Cassie tried to get the ball in to Curtis. This time the unexpected pass bounced off his head.
Instead of calling for reset again, I brought them all together. "Well, did that go as expected?"
None of the Shirts dared give an answer. However, Melissa had a big grin on her face.
"Curtis, tell me the truth," I said in my authoritarian tone. "Where were you looking on that last play?"
"At her little titties," he said as he hung his head.
"They are nice, aren't they?" I had to admit it, but if I could have them in my mouth, I would. "When you are on the court, concentrate on four things. First, the ball, second, the ball, third, your coach, and fourth, the ball. Understand?"
"Yes, Coach," both squads said in unison.
"Emma, as playmaker, watch for their lapse of concentration. If the play has a problem, go to plan B. Or C. Now, let's reset."
This time Emma faked the pass to Curtis, sending it to a wide open Kimmy on the wing instead. Basket for the Shirts.
I pointed to my opposite and gave her the thumbs up sign. I then organized the Skins to take the offensive. It took only two resets for Vicky to score on a layup.
Dottie and I introduced about a dozen offensive plays and four or five defensive responses. We traded a couple of players (Vicky for Bonnie made one red-haired girl very happy) and switched a few assignments. I tried to shield Melissa from the action. I had other work to do before she would be ready for a real game.
Toward the end of practice, I never noticed the gym door opening or closing. Not until I heard a small voice say, "Is that my sister out there?"
I looked down to see Melody standing next to me. I looked up to see another pass from Emma meant for Curtis deflect off the outstretched arm of my secret weapon.
"Is that really my sister?" asked the eleven-year-old visitor.
"That's her."
"Wow. Um, why isn't she wearing her uniform?"
"Today, Melissa is playing Skins."
"Oh, okay." The naive acceptance of a preteen was wonderful.
The practice continued with the Shirts eventually showing their strength, in part to the good coaching decisions by Dottie. Her instincts from her playing days were coming back to her.
I blew my whistle and called them over to the drink barrel for a final hydration before ending practice. "Team, this is Melody. She's going to be joining us for the next week or so. Be nice to her."
The young girl giggled over being introduced.
"Your assessment of practice?"
"Best day yet," said Emma. She did get to handle the ball for an awful lot of the plays.
"I agree," said Bonnie. "It made us feel like a team, not just practice dummies."
"We should do it all the time," said Vicky. "And everyone should trade off which side they play on. I almost liked being on Skins better."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the others.
"Good. Expect more of this for the next five days of practice. Now, the most important question. Who deserved to be rewarded? Today, I will let the team decide."
I stepped away, pulling our young guest with me. Dottie took the hint and joined us. "Hello, Melody. Are you joining us?"
"Mom finally decided to take you up on the offer," she said as she grinned at me. "I was so glad. My sister needs a break to go her way."
"I'm glad also," I said. "However, you might see or hear things during the practice that seem strange."
"Like the girls without their jerseys?"
"Precisely. We would rather you didn't tell your mother or anyone else about that."
"Hey, you got my sister to look like a basketball player. I'm not going to do anything to break that miracle. I promise."
I put my hand on her perfectly combed black hair and messed it up.
As I looked up, Emma was leading the rest of the team toward us. "Coach Wilson. We decided that one player deserves the reward today. She might not have started the week as much of a player, but today she showed her heart."
The team parted like the Red Sea to reveal a single, completely naked player. "I don't deserve it," said the girl still in her black-framed glasses. "I never scored a basket in the whole practice."
"Yeah," said Curtis. "But I didn't score many either. On any other day, with anyone else guarding me, I would have."
I gazed on our oldest girl, and most mature. She had hips, womanly hips. And a fair scattering of pubic hair. Her tits were small mounds, an A cup if she wore a bra. The dark areolas the size of quarters differed from her teammates. And above all, she was intelligent.
Dottie leaned close and whispered in my ear. "Definitely your turn tonight."
I don't know what I was thinking, but I took Melody's hand and the two of us crossed the distance to her sister. I placed the two sisters' hands together before taking Melissa's other. The three of us led the procession to the secluded area and the awaiting towels.
Halfway across the gym floor, the nervous girl bent close to my ear. "I've never done this before."
"Had oral sex?"
"No. Had an orgasm." She paused for a second before adding, "Will I have to fake it?"
"No," I answered. "I have all night to make you see fireworks."
I let her get comfortable on the towels while I assumed my position kneeling at her feet. The two sisters continued to hold hands, an indication they were going to experience this once-in-a-lifetime event together.
"Are you ready?" I asked. She answered with a smile and a wink of her eye. Surrounded by her teammates, I lowered my mouth to her untouched virgin slit and moved her to the next stage of womanhood.
"So that was sex," said Melody from the backseat of my car.
"One form," I said as I drove toward their house. I decided Melissa was in no shape for our private practice session. So I sprung for a pizza and was taking them home. Practice would just have to wait.
"When can I try sex?" asked Melody. "It looks like so much fun."
"When you get a little older," said her sister. Melissa looked over at me. "I'm so glad I waited for just the right person."
I gulped loudly. "Thank you, I guess. But my technique is nothing special."
"That's not what Vicky told me," said Melissa. "She said you were her fourth and definitely the only one to make her see stars."
I chuckled over the review. "Are all you girls so cavalier about sex?"
"The majority are," replied Melissa. "Most have gone to at least one non-sleeping sleepover. I was too much of a nerd to accept."
"When can I go to a sleepover like that?" asked our back seat driver.
"Sometime," said Melissa. "But we can't ever tell Mom about them. Understand?"
"Yes, just like basketball practice."
"Right," I said.
Melissa pointed to the dark house on the corner. "That's our house."
I pulled up to the curb and threw the car in park. "I'm sorry we called off the extra session."
"Don't be. I think everything will work out for the best." She reached over and flipped the ignition off.
"Why did you do that?" I asked.
Melissa just stared at me. "You are going to accompany us into the dark, foreboding house, right?"
"Um, all right. I could do that."
"What if there was like a mass murderer or a zombie waiting inside? You'd want to defend Melody and me, wouldn't you?"
I quickly weighed my options. "Of course. It would make much more sense for me to sacrifice myself if we ran into a zombie. Especially this close to the tournament. If I got murdered, Principal Van Buren would kill me."
Melody broke up laughing at my statement, but her sister simply said, "Coaches are expendable. Just look at Coach Jackson."
Never one to argue with female logic, I walked the sisters to the door and followed them inside. Melody ran farther inside and flipped on a couple of lights.
"I don't see any zombies," I said. "I think you're safe." I glanced around the living room. Except for the few well-worn sticks of furniture, it reminded me of my own apartment the day I moved in. Definitely not the lived-in look.
"Daddy took all the personal things when he left," said Melissa. "Everything else Mom tossed in the trash. I think she would have burned the place down if she could have trapped him inside." She raised her eyes toward the second floor. "I think you need to check upstairs also."
I was starting to feel a bit jittery. What if someone wanted to harm one of the girls?
We started to ascend the staircase. I kept hearing a faint noise, like a banging. "Where should I look?" I asked at the landing.
"The room at the end. That's our bedroom."
I crept across the open hallway to the close door. I turned the knob slowly and pushed the door. It creaked from an un-oiled door hinge that held it. Stepping into the pitch black room, I felt for the light switch.
"The lamp's all the way across the room," said Melissa.
I felt my way to her brass footboard and then to her nightstand. I fumbled with the light until it came on.
"Looks clear," I said. Glancing back to the door, I saw Melody standing next to her sister as the latter closed and locked the door. "Why did you do that?"
"I wanted to keep us safe from any zombies or werewolves or… my mother. We do have a bit of unfinished business. I desire you complete my transformation into a woman and don't want to wait for the tournament. I sense you would be agreeable."
I nodded. Then I glanced at her sister. "What about Melody?"
"There's room enough for all three in the bed. I think you could satisfy her with your special tongue."
"You mean I'm old enough now?" asked Melody.
"It will be your reward for your silence about the basketball practice."
Melissa crossed the room and extinguished the light. "Just in case Mom comes home early."
I could hear Melody ripping off her clothes. As she did, her sister held my head in her hands. "I recognized the mind control drug from the drink. Daddy used it on me for years. I guess I built up a tolerance. But I did like the aphrodisiac. That's a welcome addition."
She gave me a soft kiss on the lips. "And just one more thing. Tonight I am at the peak of my fertility cycle." The fourteen-year-old kissed me deeply. "Now, let's make a baby."