Dave was one of those guys who just commanded attention. Charisma, some might call it, or charm. Whatever it was, he grabbed the attention of just about every woman he spoke to. Friendly, gregarious, with a twinkle in his light hazel eyes and a light beard on his chiseled jaw, I could see women undress him with their eyes as he walked by. His smile could make your breath catch, disarming you in a fraction of a second.

“Such a great guy.”

“Did you know he coaches soccer?”

“All that and volunteering at the animal shelter?”

“His wife is so lucky.”

So lucky.

I don’t know precisely what made his gaze linger upon me that day. Perhaps it was my low-cut top, artfully displaying the cleft between my pale, heavy breasts. Or the skirt that I wore, riding up my thigh when I crossed my long legs. Or maybe he could just sense that underneath my soccer mom facade there lurked a cock-hungry slut. Whatever the motivation, I was thrilled to have been chosen. It started simply, asking me to bring the snack to practice, asking if I could have my kids stay to clean up. Then finally, he invited me to his office, under the pretense of needing an assistant coach.

I arrived at the high school at 5:30, long after the students, staff, and most of the cleaning crew had left. My footsteps echoed in the gymnasium as I walked to his office. I tucked my chestnut hair behind my ear and knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

My heart started beating faster as I turned the doorknob. I took a brief moment to smooth the front of my blue sundress, a nervous habit of mine, before entering the room.

“Hi, Coach Dave,” I said with a smile.

“Ah, Mrs. Howard, please sit. Give me one moment.” He gestured to a folding chair to the side of his desk, facing him. I sat on the cold metal chair, crossing my legs at the ankle. He finished typing whatever he was working on and I took the opportunity to check him out. Grey t-shirt stretched across his chest and emblazoned with the school logo, paired with navy shorts, cut high on his thigh. I swallowed drily and shifted my attention to the various posters and notes on the walls, squirming slightly in my seat.

Finally, he finished his typing with an exaggerated tap of the “return” key, leaned back in his chair, and smiled at me. “I’m so glad you’re considering helping me out,” he said, folding his hands across his flat stomach, his simple gold wedding band shining in the fluorescent light.

“Well, my kids love you as their coach, so I figured I would do everything I can to, um, be of assistance. What exactly are you needing?”

There was a pause then. A bit too long for a regular conversation. His smile had a wolfish quality to it, and I was suddenly aware of my pulse in my ears, and the wetness forming between my legs.

“Well, Leah. May I call you Leah?” he started, leaning forward in his chair and placing his warm, strong hand on my bare knee. I barely stifled a gasp and he laughed. “The truth is, Leah, I need someone to help me clear my head, especially with championships coming up. I have certain…needs… that simply aren’t being met.” He squeezed my knee on the word “needs” and I nodded quickly.

He laughed again. “I knew I saw something in you. The first time I saw you, with those tits on display. Oh yes, I noticed,” he added when he saw me blush. “Don’t pretend you didn’t dress up for me. Just like you did today.”

His hand slid from my knee up my smooth thigh. “I don’t… how can I….um….” I closed my eyes, willing the words to come as I tried not to picture his hands running all over my body. “What can I do for you, Coach?”

“Please, call me Dave. For now.” He leaned back, seeming almost reluctant to stop touching me as he explained further. “Things with my wife have become, well, a bit dull. Predictable, if you will. I need someone with a feminine eye to evaluate my technique.” He smiled again, devilishly, waiting for my response.

I knit my brow in a bit of confusion. “Like, a video or something?” I glanced at the computer screen.

Dave chuckled. “No, not like a video at all.” He held my gaze with his bright eyes. “I want you to watch me fuck my wife tonight. Then later you can… debrief me,” he finished with a wave of his hand, as though it were the most simple, banal of tasks.

I don’t even know why I considered it. I opened my mouth to protest, but the words didn’t come out. Maybe it was because I felt like I was “chosen” over the others. Maybe it was because my husband and I hadn’t had more than two minutes of sex in the last 4 months. Or maybe the thought of watching this adonis have sex in front of me actually turned me on. I’d seen his wife a time or two–a short, curvy ice queen with curly blond hair who glared at anyone who even looked at her husband. I didn’t blame her, every single mom on that soccer field would get on her knees for Coach Dave, in a heartbeat.

“How would that…I mean….How would I even–” He cut me off with a raised hand.

“Simple. I sneak you into my closet while she’s at work tonight. Then, when we’re done, she’ll take me into the shower like she always does. You sneak out into my workshed. I’ll meet you out there.”

I looked at him in stunned silence for a moment, unsure what to say.

“Mrs. Howard…Leah,” Coach Dave’s voice softened as he leaned forward again, rolling his chair closer, our legs intertwined. “Let’s not pretend you haven’t thought of me, just as much as I’ve thought of you. All those tasks I volunteered you for? All those times I asked only you to help me? I have seen how eager you can be.” As he spoke, his hand slid further up my thigh, under my dress. I opened my legs silently, biting my lower lip.

“Ah, see? There it is,” he whispered. “In fact, I’m willing to bet….” His fingers crept quickly under my panties, dancing up my wet folds to my clit. Coach Dave laughed and leaned back, licking his fingers. My eyes fluttered closed and I moaned softly.

“Just as I suspected. So, what do you say?”

I opened my eyes and looked at him. I studied this man, considering what I was about to acquiesce to. But I wanted it. Even just to see him in action, glimpse his naked body.

“Yes,” I replied simply.