Janet McCoy: The coach_s hot wife

Her image in the mirror when she was ready to leave surprised Martha. She had let Frank's neglect convince her that she was no longer an attractive woman. The mirror told her something else.

It told her she had high round firm breasts and a tight pert ass. It told her she had a headful of pretty, naturally blonde hair. It told her that her face, though on the thin side, had a gaunt beauty that was reminiscent of a painting by an old Dutch master.

She smiled at herself before heading out the door. Her husband had treated her like his own private whore before he left for work that morning. Though his lovemaking had felt intensely good, Martha had gradually drifted into the old depression about being nothing but a neglected workhorse. Now, she was feeling good again. She felt good because she could see that she was still a beautiful and desirable woman.

And she was going to be out of the house for the afternoon. It would be fun to get out, to have something to do, even if it was only an errand for her husband.

There was a group of boys gathered around her husband when Martha arrived at the school gym. She saw Frank look right at her, but he continued to give his instructions for the next phase of the boys' calisthenics. He was not the kind of guy to interrupt what he was doing just because his wife had arrived.

Martha sat dejectedly in the bleachers watching the boys work out or talk to their coach by turns. On the ride over, she had been testing herself with strange men, to see how many turned to look at her. She had gotten good results, and she had been feeling good when she arrived. Somehow she had been expecting her husband's attitude to have changed because her own had. She was beginning to feel as faded and neglected as ever.

At last Frank waved her over. "Hey, Martha! Come on over here!"

She approached dutifully with the bag lunch. She was not expecting the amount of attention she was getting from the coach's boys. Several of them were watching her. She could not mistake the admiration in their gaze. She blushed. "Hello, boys," she said shyly, looking directly at a young blond boy who looked just as embarrassed as she felt.

"Hello, Frank dear. I hope I got here in time."

Her confidence had just received a transfusion. She waited for Frank to notice her appearance. He did not. "I hope you didn't bring sandwiches, for Chrissakes. I had sandwiches for lunch."

"I brought you a meat pie. I thought you could heat it up in the microwave in the kitchen. There're some cookies and grapes and a coleslaw salad too."

"Oh." He looked mollified, but he said nothing more about the food. "Well, I guess you'll have to excuse me, Martha. The boys and me have got a lot of work to do if we're going to have us a good team this season."

Feeling herself dismissed, Martha began to edge toward the door of the gym. She saw the eyes of the blond boy following her. She smiled at him. He smiled back, then turned away. Martha was still trying to understand the strange pounding in her heart when a young guy addressed her.

"Can I see you to your car, Mrs. Roy?"

She turned to meet the intent stare of a handsome boy with, jet-black hair. She had watched him working out on the gym floor. He seemed an unusually strong boy. She guessed he might be one of her husband's star players. She was confused and flattered by his interest. "I… I don't drive. I'll be taking the bus home."

"Okay, then I'll see you to the bus. The coach told me to make sure you get out of here okay."

Martha felt a sudden surge of resentment. Trust Frank to make sure she got out of his hair as quickly and efficiently as possible! "I found my way in…" She paused, looking for his name.

"I'm Steve, ma'am. Steve Manners."

"Well, thank you for your offer of assistance, Steve. But I'll be just fine. You don't want to go outside all lathered up like that. You might catch a chill."

He laughed. "Heck! Us football players are tough! Okay, Mrs. Roy, if you're sure you're all right."

"Good-bye, Steve." She watched his muscular young body in shorts and t-shirt head back to the gym floor. This time it was not her heart but her pussy that started to throb noticeably. She shook her head as though to shake off the feeling and left the gym.

When she got home, Martha made herself a stiff drink. She had gotten into the habit of having a few drinks when she was alone in the evenings. The alcohol cheered her up. It helped her forget how bored she was. It helped her feel good, all over.

She propped herself up in bed with her bottle of scotch and her tray of ice beside her. She had moved the smaller TV into the bedroom where she could watch it and be comfortable.

This time she was paying little attention to the story line on the television. She was preoccupied with memories of her visit to the school. Her encounter with her husband had been the same as usual. Nothing unexpected about that.

What was unexpected was the blonde's reaction to the handsome guys under Frank's supervision. Two boys in particular.

The blond boy with the shy smile.

And the black-haired boy with the ego and the confidence. Not to mention the lean hard-muscled young body.

After she had gotten over her disappointment at not having children, Martha had ceased to pay much attention to other people's kids. It hurt too much to think that they might have been her own children in different circumstances.

At the age of thirty, she felt the generation gap when she was around teenagers. She had no idea how to communicate with them. She felt they were politely scornful of her.

But those two handsome boys had changed all her old notions about teenagers. They had been friendly. They had smiled at her. They had looked at her as if she were an interesting, attractive person – not just an older person.

More than any of those things, they had made her feel like a woman. A beautiful woman.

When she thought of the way the blond boy looked at per, her pussy throbbed. Automatically, she reached down to stroke it. She often stroked herself when she was alone and feeling kind of high. Most of the time she never thought about anyone in particular when she did it. She just thought about a handsome romantic lover who would hold her and coax her in and out of wild intense lovemaking.

Tonight, she thought about the boys. Her cunt grew so hot that she pulled up her skirt and inserted her fingers into her panties. She found her clitoris already hard and throbbing with lust. She put a finger on either side of the sensitized nubbin and began to vibrate it.

"Ooooohhh…" She moaned softly and rocked her head from side to side on the pillows that propped her up. She ground her ass down into the mattress. It felt deliciously sinful to be sitting on her bed with her skirt pulled up and her hand in her panties. With the alcohol racing through her bloodstream she felt above shame. She felt lusty and aroused and eager for adventure. She felt eager for the hard cocks of those boys she had looked at that afternoon.

"God, I mustn't think that," she murmured in competition with the toothpaste ad that was blaring from the TV set. Yet her mouth curled in a little smile and she did think that. She thought about what it would feel like to caress the hard muscles underneath Steve's t-shirt. Her husband had had hard muscles too when she married him. His body had excited her intensely. Now it was his cock that excited her. He no longer had that wiry well-honed physique of active youth.

And even her husband had never been so young nor so tender-looking since Martha had known him. He had been close to thirty when they met. She had missed his vulnerable youth. She had never made love to a body so pure as that of the dark-haired boy or of the blond. She wondered if she had missed something. Her throbbing clitoris told her she had.