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From: "Kari Alarus" <head2fat@soon.com>
Subject: {ASSM} *RP* Coach Needs To Score {head2fat} (ffmmM,femdom,stroke)
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Date: Fri, 03 Aug 2007 10:10:01 -0400
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Here's the follow-up to one of my most popular posts!

-h2-
----

Coach Needs to Score

                                    (C) 2000,2006 Kari Alarus

----------------------------------------------------------------

Note:	This story is follow-up of sorts to my previous story, 
        "Hard Dick High" originally published on {ASS}.  
        You are strongly advised to read HDH first to acquire
        some essential background for this story.  It has also
        been slightly updated from the original ASSM version,
        titled "Coach Attempts To Score".

       -Kari Alarus-   (aka head2fat)
----------------------------------------------------------------

Here's a silly little follow-on story simply designed to get your 
cock hard.  I won't even pretend that there's any literary merit.
Yet, I hope you'll enjoy it anyway - K. Alarus


              [loosely continued from "Hard Dick High"]
    
                        ====================
                        COACH NEEDS TO SCORE
                        ====================

Despite the school's stellar academic performance, not everybody was 
happy with the situation at Rockwood Academy (a.k.a. Hard Dick High 
School).  Coach Harry Peters was one of them.

Harry Peters was a 34 year-old ex-Navy seal who was recently hired as 
assistant director of athletic programs at Rockwood.  He was also head 
coach of the boys' football teams.  Initially, he found the idea of 
being surrounded by nine hundred stone fox sluts wearing next to 
nothing to be an incredible job inducement.  

The first two months on the job he'd stroked his member raw over the 
awesome vision of the non-stop teenage tits & ass cavorting around him.  
But after a while some, but not all, of the initial thrill had worn 
off.  Coach Peters was still savagely stiffened by the sight of scores 
of simply stunning schoolgirls shamelessly strutting their sexy assets 
in sinfully salacious skirts, shorts, slips, and shifts, but he'd 
become incredibly frustrated as well.   

First, there were the rules.  Rockwood Academy rules expressly forbid 
any male harassment of any kind against the females on campus.  No 
teasing; no taunting; no ridicule; no insults; no disparagement; no 
disrespect; no humiliation; no tempting or trickery; no come-ons; no 
solicitation; no indecent exposure; no coercion; no sexual innuendo, 
posturing, joking, or sex talk of any kind was tolerated at Rockwood
(at least by any male, that is).

Even the slightest offence (reported or witnessed) was punishable by 
incredibly harsh fines and retraction of privileges followed by 
suspension and possibly dismissal.  In addition, some especially brutal 
"corrections" were piled on for more serious offences.  [If objects 
could talk, underneath the school there was a locked sound-proof room 
filled with strange "toys" that had some particularly dick-shriveling 
stories to relate.]  Atop the heap of punishable harassment, uninvited 
touching, physical assault, and forbidden sexual contact were 
especially abhorred at Rockwood.  Those offenders were quite 
mercilessly (and often, terminally) disciplined.

The next source of frustration for Coach Peters was the dreaded 
Amazons.  Rockwood employed nearly a hundred Amazon security personnel 
to ensure that its rules were enforced.  These exceptional women were 
all formidable and intimidating battle-trained warriors.  Most of them 
were absolute mountains of muscle.  Their massive biceps eclipsed most 
mens' thighs.  Their own powerful thighs were as big as tree trunks and 
rippled with impossible muscle.  All were in the absolute peak of 
physical condition.  And even the least of them feared no man. 

While on or near (within a mile of) campus, the Amazons ensured that no 
male would be allowed to touch any Rockwood female, unless she gave him 
her clear and unambiguous consent.  Yet, Rockwood females were 
absolutely free (and officially encouraged) to do whatever they pleased 
with the men on campus, within limits, of course.  The infamous 
Rockwood rules simply did not apply to them.  This was a major reason 
why so many "naughty" young ladies applied for admission there.  The 
Amazons were their protection and their insurance.

One of the limits on Rockwood women was that sexual contact was 
expressly prohibited between female students and male instructional 
staff, with one stellar exception.  The school principal, currently 
Principal Cheval, was the sole exception to this rule.  In cases of 
unruly female comportment, the principal was authorized to administer 
whatever "disciplinary" measures might be required to quell dissent and 
restore order in the school.  Understandably, this frustrated Coach 
Peters more than anything else.

Even if the girl was to give her consent, as many were willing to do, 
such contact was not allowed.  [The same restriction applied between 
boys and male instructors as well]  Any Rockwood girls who forced sex 
upon a male instructional staff member (female staff and male non-
instructional staff were exempt), consensual or otherwise, were swiftly 
disciplined, usually with temporary loss of privileges.  

Any Rockwood boys caught doing so, along with loss of privileges, faced 
particularly brutal "correction" at the hands of the Amazons.  Repeat 
offenders were summarily expelled, with bone-bruising "correction" 
being gleefully administered beforehand.  Offending male staff members 
were especially brutally disciplined.

Heaven forbid if any male staff member were to initiate sexual contact 
with a Rockwood student!  The Amazons were authorized to use their 
"discretion" in all such cases.  Rarely was that "discretion" benign.  
Suffice it to say that no male staff member ever had the opportunity to 
become a repeat offender.  In cases of mysterious staff disappearance, 
no questions were ever asked.

Now, what exactly constituted "sex" in such cases was subject to 
debate.  Clearly, penetration and oral-genital contact qualified.  Both 
mutual masturbation and interplay with sex toys qualified as sex, as 
well.  But accidental genital-to-genital contact, especially through 
clothing was a gray area.  Kissing could sometimes count as sex, 
depending upon how who initiated it (and who was enjoying it).  In 
ambiguous cases, it was up to the school's Headmistress to determine 
whether an offending act qualified as sex and what the appropriate 
punishment would be.  If sex, the case was subsequently handed over to 
the Amazons, who were free to administer whatever "punishment" they 
might choose.

As mentioned before, the situation for Principal Cheval was quite a bit 
different.  Frank Cheval (nicknamed the "French Stallion" by the 
Rockwood girls) was a 36 year-old six-time strength-training champion, 
who enjoyed the most enviable staff perk at Rockwood Academy.  He could 
"officially" fuck the girls!

It was common knowledge that under the guise of school "discipline" 
Principal Cheval routinely fucked the brains out of as much forbidden 
teenage twat as he could handle.  His stamina and cocksmanship were 
legendary.  It was said that he could fuck fifty girls in a single 
afternoon, and satisfy all of them, to boot.  Of course, to accomplish 
that Frank Cheval had to call upon 20 years of rigid tantric sexual 
training.  It was this exceptional discipline that enabled him to hold 
onto his essence long enough to satisfy several dozen cock-hungry 
schoolgirl sluts.

Consequently, Principal Cheval was the only male staff member who was 
regularly able to leave Rockwood with a smile on his face.  The few 
times when he couldn't smile were due to extreme sexual exhaustion and 
loss of vital essence.  The incomparable Tawny Stevens (a quite 
exceptional Rockwood coed) was usually responsible for that.

Every other instructional male school staff member (e.g. instructors, 
coaches, counselors, etc.) was forced to nurse a painfully frustrated 
erection for the duration of the infamous afternoon sex slaughters.  
Although a few lucky bastards might be able to mercifully cum in their 
shorts, the great majority were obliged to suffer the harsh agony of 
the bluest of blue balls as long as the devastating sexual slaughter 
reigned on.  [No pud-pulling breaks were allowed during this time-
honored Rockwood "tradition"].   

Coach Peters was absolutely sick and tired of not being able to sink 
his throbbing gristle into any of the delectable teenage morsels on 
lewd display every single day.  By their obscene attire alone, the 
shameless little sluts were obviously begging to be fucked in the worst 
possible way.  Damn that Frank Cheval!  Yet despite these frustrations, 
working at Rockwood never failed to make Harry's peter harder than 
steel.  At any normal high school Coach Peters would have deflowered 
nearly a third of the female student body by now.  But at Rockwood 
Harry wasn't even allowed to flirt with, let alone touch, the coeds.

Another ongoing source of frustration for Coach Peters was the fact 
that even though he was forbidden to taste the "merchandise", his male 
players were able to gorge on more consensual campus cooze than they 
could respectfully handle.  It was shear torture for Coach to have to 
watch his athletes getting their formidable stalks drained dry by 
willing scores of gorgeous randy coeds, while he wasn't even allowed to 
beat his own meat.

Probably the hardest Rockwell rule to enforce (and the one most often 
broken) was the prohibition against males stroking their wood in front 
of females, even if provoked by the lewdest sexual display.  While in 
the presence of any female, Rockwood males were not allowed to touch 
themselves (or especially each other) no matter how mercilessly they'd 
been subjected to the most obscenely provocative sexual teasing (as 
many Rockwood girls were wont to do).  The only official places where 
Rockwood males were allowed to relieve their constant sexual tension 
were the boys' bathrooms.  And then, only the boys and non-
instructional male staff were allowed to do so, and only during breaks 
between class.  One can only imagine how fiercely the cum flew in 
there.

Though the boys at Rockwood were teased senseless by the endless parade 
of delectable twat in obscenely short skirts, impossibly brief 
microshorts, and indecently skimpy lingerie, all engaging in the 
lewdest provocation imaginable, they eventually got their compensation.

Shortly after lunchtime, those young men with any "lead" left in their 
pencils were treated to more gratuitous sex than they could handle. It 
was truly a sight to behold.  It was a miracle that any boys had spunk 
left in response to the merciless teasing; most were driven to spank 
their monkeys quite viciously during the morning bathroom breaks.

Around 2pm or so, a virtual army of intensely aroused young women would 
return from the principal's office in quite a state of sexual distress.  
Even though these girls had all "earned" the right to be "disciplined" 
by the principal, there was a limit to the number of young ladies that 
Principal Cheval could sufficiently "chastise" before having to 
"retire" to other business.  

Having worked their sexual juices up to a fever pitch with all the 
morning's teasing, Rockwood girls were understandably horny.  Unable to 
get serviced by the principal, the remaining girls would return so 
sexually frustrated that they were ready and willing to fuck anything 
and everything in sight.  The initial wave of this raging flood of 
randy females would attack and brutally fuck every boy and service 
staff member they could find.  Since school rules prevented any boy 
from resisting a female's sexual advances (not that any Rockwood boy 
would really want to), and since the Amazons secured the campus to 
prevent any escapes; this assault was tantamount to sexual slaughter. 

The majority of the girls, though, were a bit more selective.  They 
would boldly stroll into classrooms and briefly work their devastating 
charms, before selecting an initial herd of lucky studs to screw 
senseless.  

Most would lift up their already mercilessly short skirts (although the 
nastiest ones didn't even need to do that, since their obscene little 
garments weren't covering their pubes anyway) to display their dripping 
goodies to their helpless hyper-teased victims.  Though most Rockwood 
girls preferred to keep their pouting little mounds smooth-shaven, an 
exceptional few chose to leave their beavers bushy.  This was 
definitely not a turn-off, either.  

Next, the sluts would either bend over, sit, or get on their backs.  
Then they would spread their tight young cheeks wide open while nastily 
fingering themselves to climax.  This lewd little show got even the 
most thoroughly wanked dicks rock hard again.  And of course, the 
talented young ladies always spiced up their rude displays with the 
most provocative sex trash.

"Who wants to be the first to blow his load in my nasty little love 
hole?"

"Warning!  My tight young twat may be hazardous to your cock.  You 
could explode on contact!"

"Come cream in my cunt, boys.  Don't be shy!"

"These lips were made to suck cock and this nasty ass was made to 
drain it.  Step on up!"

"My poor cunt is on fire!  Anyone have a big enough hose to smother 
my flames?"

"Deposits gladly accepted at Cindy's First Bank of Twat.  Very hard 
currency only!" 

"Can I borrow somebody's tongue for a while?  Something sweet is 
bubbling in my snatch."

"Pleasing me is easy.  Fuck my mouth; screw my cunt; spunk on my 
tits!  Any questions?"

"Well what are you morons waiting for - a fucking engraved 
invitation!"

For some reason, the last two remarks always seemed to incite the 
desired stampede of surging cock.

The horniest little sluts dispensed with the warm-up show entirely.  
They simply grabbed the first guy within reach.  They'd stiffen him 
with some lewd bump-and-grind and a long, deep, and messy French kiss, 
and then they'd unzip his trousers, pull it out, and get busy on his 
throbbing pepperoni. 

The boldest girls (such as Tawny Stevens) would simply look their 
startled prey in the eyes and moan, "Fuck me stud".  It was crude, but 
amazingly effective.  Seldom did any boy at Rockwood refuse such an 
offer.  The rare few who did refuse found themselves in detention the 
very next day, nursing some very painful Amazon-inflicted injuries.

The erotic boldness of the initial wave of conquering sluts was 
contagious.  

The brazen sight and sound of these horny young women ruthlessly 
assaulting their helpless male classmates while getting themselves off 
so openly, made the other girls drip with lust as well.  Their nipples 
would stiffen.  Their cunts would itch.  Their juices would start 
flowing.  And, soon, their panties (on the few who even bothered to 
wear them) would be soaked.  Some would start to frantically finger 
themselves.  But most would hungrily scan the room for any cock likely 
to give them relief.  At this point, foreplay was the last thing on a 
Rockwood girl's mind.  Her sole goal was to be thoroughly and brutally 
fucked. 

Overcome by the thick aroma of heightened female arousal all about, the 
boys would find their own lust building to a fever pitch.  Their minds 
would burn with graphic recollections of the girls' merciless teasing 
antics earlier in the day.  Their loins would tingle.  Their cocks 
would fill with molten lava.  The boys would start to squirm in their 
seats.  Their consequent erections were more than obvious.  

Normally, a boy so aroused would instinctively be all over the nearest 
girl possessing even the slightest allure.  At Rockwood Academy the 
term "dog" was relative; even the "dogs" were still drop-dead sex 
kittens!  But since school rules prevented males from sexually 
assaulting any female, the boys were forced to wait for the girls to 
make the first move.  

Seldom did any boy have to wait very long.  The characteristically 
assertive Rockwood girls had no problem at all with forcing their 
potently erotic sex on their well-hung cock-teased classmates.  Both 
stunningly attractive and irresistibly seductive, Rockwood girls rarely 
faced rejection, from anyone.  And the school selection process 
virtually guaranteed that their male classmates would be blessed both 
with an excess of testosterone and reproductive equipment ample enough 
to satisfy all but the horniest bitch.  Besides, at Rockwood, no girl 
ever needed to fear male harassment or abuse of any kind.

Unfortunately for the girls, there always seemed to be a few boys who 
weren't quite able to produce wood on demand.  The most desperate girls 
(though not a single dog be among them - this is Rockwood, remember!) 
would have to settle for these pathetic wimps.  Each girl would order 
her chosen "loser" to strip naked.  Next she would power-suck his limp 
dick to rock hardness, all the while furiously fingering her own 
sopping slot.  Then the brazen beauty would force the fucker onto the 
floor, lower her scalding wet cunt onto his now-throbbing rocket, and 
roughly ride him until lift-off.  The girl usually had to drain four or 
five of these dickless saps to even get herself off properly.

By the end of the school day, there wouldn't be a single turgid cock or 
sperm-free cunt left among any of the students.  Unfortunately, the 
same could not be said for the male instructors.

A good quarter of the boys would be so totally drained of spunk that 
the Amazon security staff would have to drag their lifeless carcasses 
out of the school building.  The other boys would stumble out dazed and 
depleted, but wearing stupid smiles on their faces.  

As for the girls, the majority would leave well and truly sated.  
Although a few would demand (or require) some extracurricular 
attention, which was gladly administered by the Amazon security staff  
[Only male instructional staff were off-limits to the girls].  

All in all, the Rockwood girls would emerge from this sexual slaughter 
bristling with energy and ready to take on the whole goddamn world.  
This especially applied to other high schools.  

Consequently, year after year, the Rockwood girls' athletic teams were 
unbelievably successful.  Unfortunately, the boys' teams sucked big 
time.  This was another major frustration for Coach Peters.

Saturday (a non-school day) sports contests were about the only ones 
the Rockwood boys' teams ever seemed able to win.  And then only if the 
scantily attired cheerleaders cooperated and agreed not to drain them 
bone-dry before the game.  

Although Rockwood girls were obliged to tone down their sexual antics 
at intramural events, they still proved to be a dangerous distraction.  
The boys definitely had their work cut out trying to maintain focus on 
the game, since the cheerleading squad included some of the most 
gorgeous hard-bodies on campus.  The fact that the girls were always so 
provocatively clad in extremely short pleated skirts and cropped tops 
so thin and tight that their nipples poked through certainly did not 
help matters at all.  Of course, their considerable charms worked 
against the opposing teams as well.  

Understandably, Coach Peters was frustrated by the pathetic performance 
of his varsity and junior varsity teams.  But fortunately his job 
wasn't based on performance.  Apparently this had been a long-standing 
problem at Rockwood.   More than 10 years of Rockwood tradition worked 
against Coach being able to resolve this vexation anytime soon.  

Yet, despite years of abysmally poor winning records, the boys' 
football games were always exceptionally well attended (primarily, by 
unaccompanied men from town, but who's keeping track?).  And alumni 
contributions were at an all-time high.  Go figure!

Despite it all, Coach figured that his guys might have a better chance 
of winning a few Friday afternoon games, if he could only find some way 
to slow-down a particularly cock-hungry cheerleader - Tawny Stevens.  

Tawny Stevens was a devastating 16-year old whore-angel whose awesome 
beauty, voluptuous hard body, extremely provocative attire (along with 
her thoroughly depraved sexual antics), and insatiable sexual appetite 
regularly drained her male admirers bone-dry.  She had personally 
crippled more cock than the rest of the female student body combined.  
And as mentioned before, Tawny Stevens was the only Rockwood female 
who'd ever been able to fuck the infamous "French Stallion" into 
submission. 

A mere four weeks into the regular season, the devastating effects of 
Tawny's relentless sexual heat were already being felt on the football 
team.  Coach Peters had had to place five star players on injured 
reserve due to acute sexual exhaustion.  The cause was all too obvious.

Yet despite the havoc Tawny was wreaking on his football team, Harry 
Peters was in absolute awe of that blonde slut-goddess.  He had never 
before seen (or even fantasized about) a girl as devastatingly 
seductive or as exquisitely endowed.  

There was an extraordinary eroticism about that young woman.  Even 
fully clothed, she could walk into a room and violently stiffen every 
cock present.  And once having seen Tawny's divine body mercilessly 
displayed in a cropped top and belt-length miniskirt, it was impossible 
to resist mauling your meat.  Of course, when she really dressed to 
kill, which was often, there wasn't a red-blooded man alive who didn't 
entertain vicious thoughts of reaming her senseless.  

Any but the most impotent wanker would give his left nut to fuck her 
for just five minutes (although the majority of them wouldn't even last 
that long).  Quite a few males would have been more than willing to 
furiously plough the luscious Ms Stevens until either his dick fell off 
or his heart gave out.  Harry Peters himself had often rubbed his cock 
raw from furiously beating off to the indelible images of Tawny's 
obscenely lewd antics and nasty attire.  

Of course, Tawny Stevens wasn't the only Rockwood girl who played a 
prominent role in Coach Peter's sordid stroke fantasies.  Besides 
Tawny, there were several coeds in particular that Coach Peters was 
dying to fuck the brains out of.  One was a stunning blonde sophomore 
named Jana Matthews.  

Besides being awesomely beautiful, Jana had the most gorgeous pussy 
that Harry had ever seen.  The primary reason he remembered the girl's 
pussy so vividly was that she was always flashing it.  

Jana's long sinfully curved legs were always so amply displayed in her 
short flared wool skirts and strap-on sandals.  Unlike quite a few of 
the teasing little sluts at Rockwood, Jana loved to dress with class.

Her tops may have fit tightly around her ample breasts, but they were 
hand-tailored with exquisite fabric.  Her pleated skirts may have 
exposed quite a bit of her beautiful legs, but the brief barely-there 
garments were of the finest textiles.  Yes, Jana was all class, but she 
could also be nasty - definitely a plus in Coach's book.  

The slut was always either bending over in her expensive little skirts 
(sans panties) or pulling them up to tease.  And when she did that, 
traffic would stop.  Shaved bald as a baby's bottom and with gently 
pouting lips and mount, her pussy was simply stunning.  Framed by her 
awesome sculpted tanned legs and a tight round butt that you could 
bounce a quarter off of, her pussy was simply magnificent.  

Coach especially envied her boyfriend, Tuck Anderson, his star varsity 
quarterback.  

You see, Jana didn't participate in the afternoon sex slaughters like 
the other girls.  Around 2pm, she simply left class in search of her 
six-foot-four stud of a boyfriend.  Once having found him, she'd raise 
her skirt to expose her bald pussy and lewdly grind up against him.  
That made clear her sexual consent to the Amazon classroom monitors.  
Then she and Tuck would both leave to find some secluded spot where 
they could fuck each other like crazed animals for hours.  The weight 
room, just outside of Coach Peter's office, was one of their favorite 
sex spots.  

Merely seeing Tuck's thick 10-incher sink slowly into Jana's juicy 
shaved cunt usually made Coach Peters hot enough to want to grab his 
meat and pull away, but, unfortunately for instructors, this was 
forbidden at Rockwood.

Knowing how mercilessly his stunning girlfriend habitually cock-teased 
her classmates and instructors, Tuck would proceed to screw his naughty 
little fuck mate with the fervor of a prize bull in heat.  He got 
incredibly turned on knowing that he alone was able to savor the 
luscious goodies of one of the hottest girls on campus.  Tuck knew full 
well just how badly his classmates savagely spanked their monkeys over 
the thought of Jana's hot body during nearly every single bathroom 
break.  

Between Tuck's ferocious grunts on the down strokes (Jana's cunt was 
incredibly tight!), and Jana's screams of ecstasy in the midst of a 
thorough fucking, it was all Coach could do to keep from grabbing his 
own hyper-inflated member.  After a few minutes, though, out of shear 
frustration, he had to don his running clothes and work off his angst 
by sprinting around the athletic track.  A side benefit of this was 
that he stayed in incredible shape working off his constant sexual 
frustration.  

Of course, this didn't provide any lasting relief; it simply deferred 
the inevitable.  Once back at home, Harry would finally be able to 
achieve release by viciously reaming his on-again off-again girlfriend, 
Lucy.  

While Lucy appreciated Harry's wild fucking (he truly was a beast in 
bed), she hated the callous way he treated her when they were out in 
public.  Besides giving her little respect, Harry simply didn't seem 
interested in her for anything but sex (but damn, could the man fuck!).

She'd left him five times already, but always kept crawling back, 
because no other man knew how to make her cum buckets like Harry could.  

One of Lucy's main complaints was that Harry never talked to her.  Yet, 
Harry was no fool.  He didn't dare talk about the sexual goings on at 
Rockwood.  He couldn't.

Harry was certain that if Lucy knew how often he mentally raped some 
shameless young Rockwood slut while he was viciously reaming Lucy's 
cunt, she really would feel used.  And consequently, she would 
definitely leave him for good.  

Harry had to admit to himself that Lucy was actually a good woman.  He 
genuinely liked her cooking, her tidiness, and her thoroughly warped 
sense of humor.  She was quite a decent lay, besides.  Yet, on the 
other hand, Lucy was a bit too trailer-park for Harry's taste.  Maybe 
he could learn to love her over time, but, for now, her attraction was 
limited.

Speaking of cheap, there was one particular coed that Coach Peters was 
disgustingly but powerfully turned on by.  Her name was Belinda 
Nielssen.  She had recently arrived from Denmark.  

The story about Belinda was that she'd so regularly and shamelessly 
drained her six uncles of their spunk with her brazenly salacious 
antics, that their enraged wives had approached her father demanding 
that either Belinda be shipped off or something "unnatural" might 
befall her.  

Knowing full well that those spiteful "bitches" would surely carry out 
their threat, and having learned about Rockwood Academy from the "bad 
girl underground", Belinda convinced her father to send her there, if 
he indeed felt it best to do so.  

Naturally, her extensive "extracurricular" experience, along with her 
healthy "farm girl" looks, augured well for her acceptance to Rockwood.  
On her first visit to campus, she definitely did not disappoint.

Belinda arrived riding a black bicycle in black knee-high stockings, a 
short black button-front leather mini, and a wide-mesh cotton top that 
draped to just above her nipples, revealing the full glory of her huge 
firm milky mammaries.  The chunky little blonde was certainly stacked!  
With her flat well-toned stomach, she was obviously in great shape, as 
well.  Her powerful bare thighs were especially gorgeous.  The black 
knee-highs really set them off.  

Yet, it was Belinda's brazen cheek that so indelibly etched itself into 
Coach Peter's perverted mind.  Only the top button of her little skirt 
was fastened.  This allowed the heavy garment to gape wide-open much of 
the time.  Since Belinda wasn't wearing any underwear, her hairy little 
pussy was quite nastily exposed with every single movement.  

Belinda stopped her bike directly in front of Coach Peters.  Having 
watched her quite closely as she approached the campus, Coach was 
already sporting a fairly healthy boner.  Yet, when that damned skirt 
rode up her ass, gaping open to reveal that hairy cunt, Harry's cock 
sprung straight up.  

Naturally, the little slut knew what she was doing.  She beamed Coach a 
naughty little smile as she lewdly straddled the bike, deliberately 
prolonging Harry's agony.  Her luscious tits wholly exposed by the 
flimsy mesh top were absolutely mouth-watering.  When she put her hand 
over her pussy acting as if she intended to cover herself, Harry just 
about blew his nuts off.  

After she finally dismounted, she said, in a thick Danish accent, 
"Oops, I hope you'll pardon my ...um ... exposure.  It's just that skivvies 
are so uncomfortable when I'm riding.  And this darned skirt doesn't 
offer any protection either, as you can see."  

Then she giggled, "Well of course, you can see!" as she stared directly 
at the massive bulge in Coach's trousers.  

"Anyway, my name is Belinda Nielssen," she cried, as she rushed forward 
to shake Coach's hand.  But, suddenly she tripped and fell forward, 
knocking Coach Peters down as she tumbled on top of him, her split 
skirt gaping open yet again.  

The two Amazon guards who'd rushed forward to prevent any further 
contact were confronted with quite a sight.  

Belinda was lewdly wriggling on top of Coach Peter's prone form, with 
her skirt hiked up over her ass.  While Coach was cursing at her to get 
off of him, she was very nastily grinding her wet pussy against his 
monstrous boner.  Clearly, she'd had no intention of getting up.  

From her continuous moaning, it was clear that she was enjoying herself 
way too much.  To Harry's credit, though, he didn't lay a hand on her.  
That would have given the Amazons carte blanche to bludgeon him to a 
pulp for breaking Rockwood's harassment rules.

When the Amazon guards finally pulled Belinda off of her hapless 
victim, they noticed a massive wet spot growing on the front of Coach 
Peter's trousers.  He had just cum in his shorts.  

"You sick sorry pervert!" one of the Amazons sneered.  "You just can't 
wait to shoot your disgusting load all over some helpless female, can 
you!  If this hadn't clearly been an accident, your ass would be ours, 
you pathetic wimp!"  

Harry bristled visibly at that last comment, since he considered 
himself to be quite the stud.  But the Amazons were far too massive and 
imposing for Harry to even consider fighting back.

Belinda flashed an unbelievably nasty smile at Harry while lewdly 
licking her chops, as the Amazons helped to her feet.  

"I hope we can get together and finish our little, um, 'talk' 
sometime", the little trollop oozed, as she and her bike were ushered 
off by the Amazons.  

"Don't even think about it, coach!" one of the Amazons sneered back.

From that moment on, Harry Peters had begun to plot his revenge against 
the Amazons.

Racing to the bathroom to tidy up, Coach was beyond frustration!  Just 
thinking about the brazenness of that clumsy little slut made him want 
to liberally coat the bathroom walls with scalding spunk, but he didn't 
dare.  Frustrated and aroused beyond belief, Coach knew he wasn't going 
to be able to forget that slut Belinda anytime soon.  

That night Harry fucked Lucy with such blind fury that after 7 loud 
mind-shattering orgasms she finally lost consciousness.  When she 
finally came to several minutes later, Harry was holding her close.  

He was stroking her more tenderly than she could ever remember.  Lucy's 
heart almost stopped, she was so surprised.  That was one night Lucy 
never wanted to forget.  It was also another reason why she kept 
crawling back.  She knew that deep down, Harry did have a tender side.  
Maybe someday, she hoped he'd open up to her.  [Of course, if only she 
knew the real story!]

Belinda Nielssen never stopped harassing Coach Peters after that 
initial encounter.  At every available opportunity, she would go out of 
her way to provoke his tortured cock to impossible stiffness.  In the 
shortest of skirts and briefest of shorts, she would bend over, 
stretch, do the splits, twirl, jump, and even hump passing classmates 
just to get Coach's attention (not that she ever lost it).  

On the days she wore cut-offs she'd always find a way to make it into 
the weight room while Coach Peters was training his athletes.  

Seeing Belinda work out on the bench in those incredibly nasty cut-offs 
usually brought all other activity in the weight room to a standstill.  
You could literally cut the accumulating lust with a chainsaw.  The 
tight denim crotch string would sink deeply into Belinda's parted 
pussy.  Her fat cunt lips would curl around it as it roughly grazed 
back and forth over her clit.  Her juices would leak visibly. 

Try as he might, Coach Peters could not ignore the little trollop.  
Without fail he'd always sprout a monster erection whenever Belinda 
would begin her lewd workout.  Besides, she was always asking Coach to 
critique her form, help her select weights, or give her a towel. It was 
always something or another.  

It soon became clear to everyone that Belinda never wanted help from 
anybody except Coach Peters.  Naturally, the ever-vigilant Amazons made 
a point of watching Coach very closely every time Belinda was near.

When break time would finally arrive, those poor guys couldn't wait to 
get to the showers.  They would wank their rods so viciously that 
they'd almost hurt themselves.  Belinda's lewd work-outs quickly became 
legendary around Rockwood.  

Then one day, Belinda came to school in a pair of obscene "jeans" that 
Coach would never ever be able to forget.  Coach nearly blew a nut the 
first time he saw her arrive on campus in that garment.  In fact, all 
of the boys who saw her arrive on campus that morning very nearly 
didn't make it to class after the start-of-day bathroom break.  

The infamous jeans were both ripped and bottomless.  The entire crotch 
and most of the rest had been cut clean away.  The nasty low-riding 
denim had been abruptly severed just above her plump naked crotch.  Her 
lightly furred mound pouted obscenely to the world.  Her deliciously 
curved ass bubbled out nastily from behind.  On her left ass cheek was 
a heart shaped tattoo pierced by an arrow with the name "Coach" inside.  
But that wasn't all.  The legs of the jeans hung down from two thin 
denim strips, one on each side.  The effect was that Belinda's gorgeous 
thighs were exposed all the way up to her furry pussy.  What little 
denim remained was heavily slashed, salaciously baring much of her 
calves and lower legs.  To cap the sluttish look, Belinda wore an 
extremely skimpy white crocheted bikini top that her copious tits 
completely overpowered.

Coach had gotten his players really motivated to work out that day.  
But just as soon as he'd got them going, in struts Belinda, wearing 
those jeans.  Their mouths all dropped open.  Every guy there stiffened 
obscenely.  They alternately stared at Belinda, then at Coach to see 
what was going to happen.  

Belinda goes right up to Coach and says, "I made these jeans especially 
for you, sweetie. Take a real long look.  So how do you like them?"

Coach just stood there dumbstruck.  His cock was so hard that it nearly 
ripped through his warm-up pants.  Sweat had started to bead on his 
forehead and upper lip.  

"These ripped, bottomless jeans I'm wearing are for special occasions" 
Belinda continued.  "They let a guy know right away what I want - a 
thorough fucking with nothing between me and his cock!"

When she said that Coach's cock twitched violently as if it was ready 
to pop right then and there.

"Well, should I model them for you?" Belinda smiled quite wickedly.  
Naturally she didn't wait for Coach's answer.  Instead, she proceeded 
to use the benches and workout equipment as props for the lewdest 
modeling exhibition anyone at Rockwood has ever seen.  

Belinda straddled the weight bench and lifted a couple of dumbbells.  
As she did so, she raised her legs straight into the air to give Coach 
a good look at her pussy.  She hung from the chin-up bar and did an 
extremely nasty set of leg splits.  She begged Coach to split her even 
wider (with his hands, of course).  

Next, Belinda moved on to another gym machine.  She slipped her feet 
into the stirrups as she spread her legs apart to pull some weighted 
cables.  After one set, she had Coach load more weight on the 
apparatus.  After that, she did reverse sit-ups while lying face down 
on a bench.  She urged Coach to come real close (close enough to sniff 
her sopping cunt) and check her form as she did so.  She even hung 
upside down from the chin-up bar to do several sets of ab flexes.  In 
doing so, her copious tits fell completely out of the bikini top, but 
she didn't even seem to care.  Her only comment was "My poor tits could 
use some more support, couldn't they Coach?"  Belinda culminated her 
workout with a lewd pole dance that had every man's pole itching to 
unload its liquid cargo in her cock hangar.

Even before the pole dance had ended, those poor boys lost it.  Every 
guy except for Coach raced out of the workout room in a hypnotic sex 
trance.  Once in the showers, they worked their cocks into a frothing 
frenzy.  Within minutes they had sprayed so much spooge over the sinks 
and stalls that the floor was covered in a pool of milky baby cream.  
Even after their balls had been drained bone dry, the lust-driven fucks 
kept savagely beating their meat.  Finally, after 10 minutes, the last 
of them stumbled out of the shower room, barely able to walk.  Needless 
to say, further workouts were out of the question.

As for Coach, he was so over-heated that his eyes glazed over.  His 
cock was hot enough to singe the fabric of his trousers.  Rivers of 
nervous sweat were running down his face.  At that moment, Coach Peters 
wanted to fuck that teasing little slut so badly that he was even ready 
to risk certain death at the hands of the Amazons.

Finally finishing her searing pole dance, Belinda's cunt was oozing 
gobs of girl-cum.  She said to Coach, "My cunt is so goddamn wet for 
you!  Wanna touch it?"  Before he could answer, Belinda was lewdly 
grinding her hot wet cunt up against the man's twitching monster.  "You 
know, Coach, we never did finish our little ... talk", she moaned in a 
deep voice dripping with need.

Coach moaned too, but out of abject frustration.  The semen was already 
boiling his balls; and it was only a matter of time before Vesuvius was 
going to blow - fucking or no fucking.  This little slut really had his 
number.  Coach Peters had to literally beg the Amazons to take Belinda 
away.  "Coach, don't you love me?" Belinda cried as the Amazons pulled 
her away.

Miraculously Coach resisted the temptation to savagely stroke his 
sausage.  Several hundred deep yoga breaths later, he had cooled off 
sufficiently to carry on with his normal school day [which would turn 
out to be not so normal after all].

Around 2pm when that afternoon's sex slaughter had begun, Belinda 
dragged six fully erect studs into the weight room just so Coach could 
witness them fucking her senseless.  

She'd teased those guys so brutally with her cock-stiffening tricks 
that they were determined to fuck the holy bejesus out of her.  Yet, 
despite getting thoroughly reamed in her cunt, mouth, and ass by six 
well-hung fuckers, every chance she got, Belinda kept turning around to 
see if Coach would come to her rescue.  

After 15 minutes of some of the most brutal fucking Coach had ever 
witnessed [the guys' monster cocks were ripping Belinda apart, and she 
was loving every minute], he had to close his door.  Harry was so 
frustrated that he could have cried.  He didn't even have Lucy's hungry 
cunt to ravage tonight, since she was with her mother for a few days.

After having fucked their fill, the guys stumbled out of weight room, 
leaving Belinda behind on a padded bench, limp and smiling.  She was 
completely covered head-to-toe with sweet creamy spunk.  If the girl 
hadn't been in such a blissful state, the presiding Amazons would have 
viciously "corrected" her "assailants".  Even so, the Amazons ordered 
the boys back into some of the most merciless classroom fuck-fests 
still taking place.  

This time it was payback, as those same studs ended up getting fucked 
and sucked senseless themselves by several dozen very horny and worked 
up teen sluts.  An hour later, the Amazons particularly relished 
dragging their six lifeless carcasses out of the school building, then 
pissing on their half-naked bodies.

As for Harry, he ended up half-drunk at a hotel bar, where, eventually, 
a pretty young stewardess consented to bring him up to her room.  Harry 
did not disappoint her.  In fact, before he left the next morning, the 
woman, Sasha, gave Harry her personal cell phone number, with explicit 
instructions to call her whenever he desired a "return engagement".

	*		*		*		*		*

Belinda, Jana, and Tawny were at the top of a long list of Rockwood 
coeds that Coach Peters was dying to ream senseless.  In his fantasies, 
he'd already repeatedly fucked some long-delayed respect into those 
shameless teasing little sluts.  Him and about a hundred other Rockwood 
instructors and staff members!  They were all tired of constantly 
drooling over scores of sinfully rich coed desserts that they were 
never allowed to eat (or even lick).

Now Coach Harry Peters had a plan to do something about it.

His original plan had been to hypnotize the girls.  Then he and the 
other staff members would brutally and repeatedly fuck them under 
trance.  When they'd later regain awareness they'd remember nothing, 
except for the fact that their cunts would be sore.  Coach would make 
sure that several of his football players would be conveniently nearby 
and naked when the girls came to.  

His initial victims were going to be the voluptuous football 
cheerleaders.  But first he needed a way to distract and subdue the 
ubiquitous Amazon security guards.

That was then.  Coach had since completely reformulated his attack 
plan.  This next one was guaranteed to satisfy nearly everyone 
involved.

Harry knew that had to be especially careful when dealing with the 
Amazon staff.  There was a rumor circulating that the last two male 
staff members to challenge them had suffered very brutal and mysterious 
deaths.

One guy, a history instructor, literally got fucked to death.  One of 
the Amazons got naked, oiled herself up, and rubbed herself all over 
him while he was gagged and tied to a bench.  Of course the fucker got 
a major boner.  Next she backed her hairy pussy onto his nightstick, 
and squatted up and down on him for the longest time, savagely working 
his pole with her wicked vise-grip of a cunt.  Then she switched to her 
asshole and really put the grip on him.  Years in the gym had made her 
ass muscles tight enough to crush cans of beer.  Drugging the sap 
beforehand with amyl nitrate (to keep him nice and hard), she was able 
to squeeze four violent and messy climaxes out of him in just over an 
hour.  The poor guy's heart finally gave out from all the pleasure and 
pain, especially the pain.  The Amazon slut had put such a vise press 
on him with her ass that his cock had literally gotten crushed flat.  
Even if hadn't died, he'd never be able to hold an erection again.

His accomplice, a guidance counselor, had been stripped naked and 
forced to watch this sexually criminal act while hog-tied to a chair.  
He also had several layers of industrial plastic tightly wrapped around 
his pelvis, completely smothering his trapped cock.  He had to endure 
the most brutal dick draining he'd ever seen while completely unable to 
get an erection himself because the wrapping was so tight.  Finally, 
after his friend had bought the farm, two other Amazons finished the 
accomplice off in the cruelest bluntest fashion imaginable.  One 
crushed his pelvis between her monstrous muscular thighs.  Her thighs 
were said to be as big as oak tree trunks.  His pelvic bones cracked 
like dry brittle twigs.  The agony must have been unbearable.  The 
other Amazon allegedly sealed the deal by crushing his head between her 
23" biceps.  It caved in like an overripe cantaloupe.  That was it for 
him.  

Their mangled remains were later found inside a badly burned vehicle at 
the bottom of a ravine.  The official cause of death was declared to be 
an automobile accident, but few really believed it.

As mentioned previously, the Amazon guards at Rockwood were all awesome 
physical specimens.  Even the smallest had arms bigger than most men's 
thighs.  Their powerful backs were as broad as doorways.  Their tight 
narrow waists rippled with rows of rock-hard ab muscle.  Their asses 
were perfectly sculpted mounds as hard as steel bearings.  Their huge 
muscular thighs made male athletes quake with fear and envy.  Even 
their calves bulged with impossible muscle.  The Amazons were fearless 
superwomen who were both intimidating and unassailable.  No one doubted 
that rumor even the slightest bit.

To begin the festivities for his secret plan, Coach Peters had arranged 
for a little "fire alarm".  

Coach had planted several smoke-bombs on timers in strategically 
selected spots.  Once the bombs went off, setting off fire alarms 
throughout the campus, he'd arranged for an accomplice to phone the 
real police and fire departments, and tell them that it was a false 
alarm.  Coach had arranged for some special personally selected public 
safety "officials" to show up on site, instead.  

Coach Peters had previously bribed an entire visiting contingent of 
power-lifters and muscle-heads to pose as firemen and police officers.  
He'd taken the extra liberty of equipping each and every one of them 
with special dart guns and touch-injection finger rings that could each 
administer a powerful dose of fast-acting sleep-inducing narcotic, 
reputedly enough to drop an elephant.  

Ostensibly, their task would be to secure the campus and, in the 
process, systematically subdue the Amazons.  Coach Peters prayed to God 
that the studs would be successful.  Then with the Amazons out of the 
way, Coach and the other male staff members would throw a nasty little 
"debutantes ball" that none of the girls at Rockwood would soon forget.

Question was, would this bold plan actually succeed?  And if even it 
did, how would Coach Peters and his co-conspirators ever be able to 
keep their jobs afterwards?  

[Don't even dare to contemplate how furious the Amazons were going to 
be once they came to!  There would definitely be seven levels of hell 
to pay!]

    <to be possibly continued>

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