A Different Kind of Guidance (closed for desperado1089)

[DarkWarrioress]

Clair Johnson was a wholesome young lady raised in the Midwest by parents who were very religious and hard-working. Today she started college and she was looking forward to it. Though she loved her parents dearly, there was a sense of relief running through her at her newfound freedom. She could come and go as she pleased, without having to answer to anyone.

She glanced in her dorm mirror and made sure she was presentable for her first class. She blushed a little thinking about it. She wasn’t sure why she had chosen to take a sex ed class, but at the last moment, she had. If she was honest with herself, she knew exactly why she had taken that class. Her mother, bless her soul, refused to teach Clair anything about sex. Oh, Clair knew more than her mother thought. She was nineteen, would be twenty in a couple of weeks. You didn’t get to that age without knowing some things. There was so much more to learn though. Besides, taking this class couldn’t hurt anything. It might even be a credit toward her major, once she figured out what that was going to be. She grabbed her backpack and headed out the door to her first class as a freshman. It was a glorious day.

As Clair approached the classroom, she could feel butterflies in her stomach and when she entered the room, it was a lot fuller than she expected. She found a seat at the front of the room. Tossing her ponytail over her shoulder, she set her backpack down as she sat down to await the arrival of her professor. Clair introduced herself to the person sitting next to her. and they had a soft conversation.

 

[desperado1089]

Almost as soon as Clair had started her conversation, the classroom door opened and in walked a man who radiated confidence, self-assuredness and just a touch of well-earned swagger. He was dressed in a dark blue jacket and matching trousers, and when he turned to face the class they could see it was some kind of military uniform, the middle ground between full parade dress and combat fatigues.

There were a smattering of ribbons on what was colloquially called the "fruit salad" but above it was a set of pilot wings and several small arms qualification badges. To the trained observer, he hadn't seen any action, but he was ready for it. He had a name tag that read "CALDWELL" and gold oak leaves on his shoulders. The man himself was clean-shaven, with a slight tan and blue eyes, his dark hair close-cropped. He carried a blue cap under his arm with a silver device in the front center and the rest of the decorations were of a like color. He wore a class ring on one hand and no other jewelry, and beneath his jacket was a dark blue tie and sky blue collared shirt.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. I am Major Steven Caldwell, US Air Force Reserve, recently-minted Adjunct Professor for the university's Health and Life Fitness department. You may call me Major Caldwell, Professor Caldwell or Mister Caldwell, I'm really not picky. Except if you're in ROTC, then you bet your ass you'll call me Major or Sir. I've been teaching this class for a few semesters now, and I've learned to start with a little icebreaker. Something to loosen the hang-ups some of you might have about sex." As he added this last part, he looked straight at the Catholic girl towards the front.

"So, everyone, please pull out a piece of paper and a pen. Write your name at the top, and whether or not you'd like to remain anonymous. Then write five different words or phrases you've heard throughout your life that describe or make light of different sex acts. Two rules: One, no rape glorification. I see that crap and you are out on your ass and you get an F for the whole course. Two: no judgment. If someone doesn't have what you have, that's okay. If someone has old fashioned words or doesn't have any, that's okay. We are all here because we want to be, and because we want to learn. You wanna stoop to that grade-school shit, you can turn your high school diplomas in and start back at 6th grade. Any questions?" He surveyed the class and when either no hands shot up, or he'd answered them all, he nodded. "You have ten minutes. Afterwards, I'll collect the papers and write each word or phrase on the board. Then if there are repeats, I'll put a tally mark. For those who don't say they wanna be anonymous, I will then reveal who wrote what. You may begin."

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Clair’s attention was captured by the man who had just entered the front of the room. The professor? Her dark, brown eyes registered, with surprise, he was young. Well, a lot younger than expected the professor of this class to be. As her eyes took inventory of the man, while she tried not to look so obvious about it, her mouth, she had to admit, went dry. There was something about a man in uniform. Clair silently noted the medals on his chest, then the “brass” on his shoulders. Oh crap! This man was teaching her sex ed class? Clair looked away from his form and down at her hands on the desk that were fiddling with her pen. He quickly introduced himself.

When he asked them to take out paper and pen, she quickly complied. The instructions he gave next were clear and concise. Clair quickly penned her name and the word, “Anonymous”. Ten words. She bit her lower lip and bowed her head as she tried to think. She felt… exposed, simply by doing this. Heaven only knew that she was still a virgin and had been brought up so strictly by her parents and the church. Yet, like every teenager known to mankind, she found a way to learn, well, some things, at least. Down the page she wrote the numbers one-through ten.

What to write…. What to write…. Her mind had seemingly gone blank. She knew some words or phrases she had read about before, so why couldn’t she put them on paper? No one else but the professor was going to know. Still, she had a hard time trying to begin. A quick glance at the clock told her she had five minutes left to write something down. She scribbled down something and then as an afterthought, carefully took the paper and put it in her notebook, taking out a fresh one. She glanced quickly toward the head of the classroom then bent her head once more, penning her name and the word, anonymous. She wasn’t sure why she had done so, she couldn’t seem to write anything down anyway. Still, he had said to, so she had done so. She was nibbling on the inside of her cheek, still trying to get up the courage to write something, anything down, yet couldn’t.

This was it, her first test of her newly found freedom and she had failed. Miserably so. If she couldn’t do this one simple thing, how was she going to be able to truly live in this world? Clair sighed as she flipped her blank paper over and set her pen down. She certainly hoped that she was going to do a lot better in this class that she had started out.

 

[desperado1089]

Major Caldwell had an eye on everyone, his keen vision missing nothing. He checked his roll sheet and noticed that Clair Johnson had not written anything down. "Time!", he called, and briefly wrote something on a small post-it note and stuck it somewhere out of sight of the others as he went to the back of the classroom first and started to collect the papers from back to front.

When he got to Clair's desk, he cupped his hand and there was the post-it note stuck to his palm. It read simply, "You OK?" He lingered at her desk a moment longer than usual, to give her a chance to respond somehow, before collecting her paper and moving on as if nothing had happened. He'd follow up later.

When he wrote everyone's responses on the whiteboard, he spared Clair any potential embarrassment by adding a tally mark to five of the more common words or phrases when he got to her paper. Because she was the only one who wrote down nothing, the class would wonder who it was.

Thankfully, more people than just her elected to remain anonymous, so she had better cover when he announced who had written down certain things. "Nice job. I hope that loosened some of you up, and for those that it didn't, I have to ask if you are certain you wish to be here. We will learn about sex, for fuck's sake. Apart from what I mentioned earlier, virtually no topic relating to sex will not be covered in some manner, either more abstractly in the case of things like pedophilia and bestiality, or with more focus like STIs and contraception. It is up to each and every one of you to answer that question for yourselves. If you wish to leave, I will not penalize you. I will turn out the lights and leave the door propped. You got two minutes." As he said he would do, he went over to the door, opened and propped it open, and turned out the lights. No one would be able to see who left except for their silhouettes as they left the room. Caldwell sat in his desk chair and turned its back to the door.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

When the professor called time, she panicked as she looked down at her blank sheet. How many people had left their sheet blank? She was willing to bet no one had. When he came to collect her paper, she handed it to him slightly folded. She felt embarrassed. In return, oddly enough, he slipped a small note into her hand. She glanced around the room to see if anyone was watching her. No one was so she glanced at his writing. Then with a quick glance upward she nodded slightly, though her cheeks were suffused with a soft blush. As he moved on, she slipped the note into her notebook, thinking about two things. One, he was being kind and two, he was way too observant. Perhaps, given his training, it was just the way he was. In any case, he moved on and collected the rest of the papers before returning to his whiteboard and started writing things down.

To say Clair was slightly uncomfortable with the phrases he wrote down, was putting it mildly, but that was why she was in this class to begin with, right? To learn. When he returned his attention to the class, the things he said were truthful but he made it sound like she should be far more comfortable than she was with the topic. Clair certainly hoped she would be more comfortable as time went on. Afterall, sex was a natural part of life, even though her parents preached otherwise. Even church doctrine seemed to back them up, at least where single young people were concerned.

Her eyes followed him as he stepped up to the door, opening it, then turning off the light, casting the room into darkness. She gave thought for a moment about leaving. She did. Then some part of her rebellious nature kicked in and she refused to budge. She’d find a way to remain in class and even participate. Somehow.

She was fiddling with her pen and staring down at it as they waited. Her mind worked furiously. How was she going to find a way to be more comfortable with this topic? How on earth was she going to be able to participate in this class when her upbringing was something she had to overcome? By rights, she should be rebellious. She should question what her parents had strove to indoctrinate into her since she was a child and even more fiercely so since she had become a teenager. She was now a free-thinking young woman. Her parents or her church no longer had control over her thoughts. All these thoughts of hers were natural, she thought. Yet, overcoming her upbringing was certainly a lot harder.

Her head lifted and she stared, in the dark, at the man sitting in his desk chair with his back to the door. She couldn’t deny he was handsome. When those blue eyes of his first looked at her, she wanted to melt in her chair. He was off limits, however. He was her professor, which was a shame because her heart had picked up its pace and between her legs, she had become slightly damp when he had walked into the room. He hadn’t helped matters when he had passed her that note, showing his concern. She briefly wondered if she should stay after class and explain herself then thought, no. He had said before the exercise had begun that some might not have any answers for him, that that was okay too. No, she settled in her mind, she would simply get through the class today, then come back tomorrow more determined than ever.

 

[desperado1089]

When the allotted time had passed he walked back over to the light switch and turned them back on and closed the door. "Alright, all I have done so far has been my attempts to save anyone who might be prone to embarrassment about this class from said embarrassment. But now that your chance to leave with dignity has passed, I am going to assume you all are here to stay. From this point forward, if my assumption proves incorrect, any and all applicable academic penalties will be enforced, as well as any effects on scholarships and the like."

Stephen took a breath before continuing. "Now, since this is the first day, let's go around the room and introduce ourselves. We will be learning about some very sensitive topics this semester, and I find it helpful that we all get to know each other at least a little bit. If you like, you may also disclose a fact about your sex life that you wish to share, a specific topic about sex or sexuality that you wish to learn more about in this class, or anything else related to the class's subject you wish to share. My only limit for this is that you refrain from disclosing facts about your sexual anatomy--" Caldwell shot a glare towards some frat boys that looked beside themselves with glee and now looked like deflated balloons, "--and as always, this is a judgment-free zone. Furthermore, if, as a result of anything discussed in this class, anyone here is harassed, picked on, teased, or, God forbid, assaulted, they will be dealt with to the fullest extent of the law and they will receive F's on either the next test or the whole course depending on the severity of their actions. My brother is a Lieutenant Colonel in the Security Forces, which is the Air Force's equivalent of MPs, and he has a lot of local law enforcement contacts. As they say in your generation: fuck around and find out."

He paused to let that sink in, and then he smiled. "Allow me to begin. Seeing as you already know my name, I'll skip to the part where I tell you that my girlfriend at the time and I once had sex in a grove of trees at the end of a runway as a group of five fighter jets were taking off all at once. We tried to time it so that we both came as soon as they flew overhead. I think we succeeded."

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Clair set her pen on the worktable in front of her and quietly tuned into the man standing in front of the class as she listened intently. Her dark eyes were focused on him. She already knew his name, but to her, he was Professor Caldwell. Her mouth went dry as he mentioned they would be introducing themselves to the class. Innately shy to begin with, her strict upbringing hadn’t made that any easier. Still, she had to start somewhere. She silently approved of him protecting each and everyone of them. Her trust was starting to build for this man.

She once remembered in high school, a boy she had developed a crush on had actually asked her to the prom that year. Her parents, of course, said no way. She was cut to the core because she really wanted to go. With great reluctance, she turned him down and the next day when she passed him and his friends on the way to class, she overheard them talking, not that they were even trying to be discreet.

“Is that her, Tommy? Why did you pick her?” One of his friends asked.

Tommy shrugged.

“I think she’s pretty and besides, Gavin bet me I couldn’t get her to go.”

That last part had hurt Clair, more than she wanted to admit. She had been just a bet to win?

After that humiliation, Clair had just kept to herself. Was she simply a challenge because of how she had been brought up?

Hopefully, the young men in college had grown up some by now. She fervently hoped so or her college years were going to be dismal. By the time it came around to her, she picked up her pen and twiddled it between her fingers. She felt hot and cold all at the same time. She sat up straighter as she looked at Professor Caldwell. Her pulse was racing as she introduced herself.

“My name is Clair Johnson. I’m a freshman. I’ll be twenty in a couple of weeks. I was born and raised in the Midwest and this class counts as a credit toward my major.”

She didn’t have any facts about her non-existent sex life. There wasn’t any specific topic on the subject she wanted to know, well, maybe not yet. Something may come up as they got further in depth about the class. The snickering young men, though she hesitated to call them men, at the back of the class, didn’t help matters any. Professor Caldwell did his best to reign them in. Boys would be boys. Some of them hadn’t grown up just yet. Perhaps they were just trying to draw attention to themselves or perhaps thought they made themselves look big in the eyes of others, but this wasn’t high school and, in her opinion, they needed to grow up.

At least she had made it through introductions. As she sat back and listened to her classmates, she noted that some of the prettier girls in class were trying to flirt with the professor. Clair gave a small shake of her head. There were always the few. Sometimes, Clair wished she had their confidence.

 

[desperado1089]

Caldwell absorbed the flirting and let it bounce off of him like radar off the fuselage of a B-2 stealth bomber. If he had any say in the matter, he preferred Clair Johnson, quiet, shy, in need of a confidence boost. She was brave for being here, despite the obvious crucifix around her neck and the upbringing it signified. It seemed she wanted to rise above it, to seek the knowledge that she was denied growing up, but she wasn't quite sure where to begin.

Stephen decided chapter one would be a good start. "Thank you, everyone. Let's get down to it, then. Open your textbooks to chapter one, please, and we will go over what the course and the textbook defines as the proper answer to the question, 'What is sex?', some of the most common purposes of sexual behavior, and basic human sexual anatomy. Please read part one quietly for the next fifteen minutes and we will discuss it for the next ten." He sat down at his desk and nodded at Clair as if to say, You got this.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Clair was reading the assignment and idly playing with the fine gold chain around her neck as she read. Her fingers were absentmindedly gripping the small crucifix at the base of her throat as she read. It was an unconscious thing she did. Her mother was always after her to stop doing it. Clair saw no harm in doing so, but her mother had other ideas and now that Clair was out from under her mother’s roof, well, she did as she wanted to. Of sorts. Admittedly, the teachings of her parents, her church, ran deep, but Clair’s mind was now open to exploration.

She had glanced up briefly and caught the professor’s nod. Was that towards her? If so, why? Why had she seemingly caught his attention because she knew she had and she wasn’t sure what to do with that awareness. A slight shrug of her shoulders and she returned her attention to the book in front of her. Fifteen minutes were almost up.

 

[desperado1089]

She didn't understand the message. That was fine, in Caldwell's estimation. He wasn't exactly crystal clear with his meaning. Electing not to respond to the shrug, he called time when it passed and turned to face the class. During the time it took the students to read the part he wanted them to, he had taken off his uniform jacket and the blue shirt with its tie, name tag and rank insignia was stretched tight over a muscular chest.

"Alright, first things first. What does the textbook say is the definition of sex?" He waited for someone to raise their hand, or several someones, and in that case he picked someone at random to answer, or if it was one person he'd of course call on them. He went like that for the rest of the material in part one, the 'what is sex' section, and then he bade the class read part two, the part that listed and explained some of the most common purposes of sexual behavior.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

It wasn’t that Clair didn’t want to participate in class. Her greatest fear was being made fun of. She had had enough of that in high school. The little Miss-Prim-And-Proper, type thing. The girls ridiculed her clothing because her parents demanded she dress modestly. The boys were always on the lookout for her; some used to shove her into lockers when there weren’t any teachers around. Some tried to flirt outrageously with her. Sometimes, it went beyond mere flirting. Sometimes they backed her up against the lockers and whispered things in her ear. Things they wanted to do to her or have her do to them. Cheeks red, she’d fight out of being pinned back and run to her next class or if school was out, she’d run all the way home, the echoes of their laughter in her ears. Once home, she’d go straight for her room and lock the door behind her, not coming out until dinner time. So, she stayed silent in class, for today, and let everyone else field the professor’s questions. It couldn’t last, she knew, not if she wanted to pass this class.

For more times than she cared to count, Clair wondered why she had taken this class. Aside from going toward her major, she wanted some answers to her burning curiosity. She had no close friends she could discuss such things with, not that she thought she would have even if she had such friends. Oh, she could have experimented like so many other girls she knew did, but that wasn’t her. Never would be. So, that left an educational class.

All this was running through her mind as she turned the page on part two, idly making mental notes. A quick glance around the room told her that if she had pulled out her notebook and started scribbling notes, someone in the room was going to make fun of her for it, probably one of those snickering young men in the back of the class. She’d make notes tonight when she got back to her dorm room. Heaven knows, there were going to be tests in this course.

 

[desperado1089]

As soon as Caldwell told the class that it was time to stop reading, the four young men in question all said, "Well we heard some do it to get closer to God." The mocking tone in their voices and the way they looked straight in Clair's direction left no doubt as to what they were doing.

The whole class went quiet as Caldwell leveled an icy glare at the meatheads. He straightened himself to his fullest height and began to speak. "I thought I made it clear that this was a judgment-free zone." This was spoken in a voice of icy calm, and then he thundered, in his best bootcamp instructor voice, "But it seems you four maggots think this is some kind of joke! On your feet, gentlemen!" When they didn't say or do anything except look at each other like deer in headlights, Caldwell said, "You four yahoos already have an F on your first test for that little stunt, pond scum! Now I'm gonna start counting, and it you worthless pukes aren't on your feet by the time I get to five, your asses fail the whole goddamn course!" Before he could get to one, all four jocks were on their feet. "Good. Now grab your shit and get out. We'll try again on Wednesday and if you still think you're a comedian...well, you'll find out." He was back to his calm voice, which was much more intimidating as the four filed out with their heads hung low and one of them even muttered an apology to Clair as he shuffled by her desk on the way to the door.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Why her? Clair was thinking as one of the four young troublemakers piped up. Did she have some sort of sign on her forehead that read, ‘Pick on me’. She just didn’t get it. What she hadn’t expected was her professor stepping up and giving the young knuckle draggers a royal dressing down. As he was going off on them, Clair felt like all eyes in the classroom alternated between them, the professor and her. She found herself slinking down in her chair and wishing she could simply vanish into thin air.

Professor Caldwell kicked them out of class and as the quartet walked past her, three of them gave her dirty looks as if this had been all her fault. One of them muttered an apology to her on his way out. Clair didn’t say a thing, simply sunk even further down on her seat, if that was possible. She could feel her cheeks blazing with heat and her eyes turned toward her open book as if it could make her vanish.

Clair glanced at the wall clock in the classroom with desperation in her eyes. All she wanted to do was get away from here as fast as she could. No good was going to come of this past moment, she knew from experience. Professor Caldwell was not always going to be around to stand up for her. They would find her and they would make her pay for what they had done wrong. She hoped she was wrong. She hoped they were grown up enough to accept responsibility for the disruption they had caused, but if she was honest with herself, she knew otherwise.

In a moment or two, Clair took a deep breath and slowly let it out, then her eyes darted around the room before returning her eyes to the front of the classroom. The moment was over, let it go, she reprimanded herself silently. She was still mortified by what had occurred, but there was little else she could do about it. She kept her eyes on her book and didn’t look at Professor Caldwell, if she could help it.

 

[desperado1089]

Something stirred in Caldwell's chest when he saw Clair look at the clock. A protective instinct, along with something deeper he didn't want to examine too closely, lest he develop desires that were best left undeveloped. He took a deep breath, and said, "I'm sorry you all had to see that," but his gaze was fixed on Clair the whole time, as if his apology was just for her. Which, in his heart, it was.

"Alright, let's take a break for a few minutes," he said to the class at large. "Would anyone like to see something funny? It's the footage from my first time in the flight simulator." He had a flash drive in his hand as he talked. "With a few edits for comedic effect, but it was not funny at the time."

 

[DarkWarrioress]

He was looking directly at her when he was apologizing to the class as if he meant the apology to her. It made her shrink even more inside of herself and she wasn’t sure why. To take everyone’s attention away from what had just happened, he volunteered to show them some footage of his first time in a flight simulator. Clair took a deep breath of relief as the lights were turned off and all eyes went to the front of the classroom, watching their professor on the screen. Clair found herself laughing along with the rest of the class. At the same time, she had respect and was in amazement where this man was concerned. He wore his military uniform proudly. There was a curiosity as to why he chose to teach this class, but maybe at some point she’d learn why. In the meantime, she was thankful someone had stood up for her.

They got to the end of the footage and the lights came up again, but before their professor could restart the class, it was time to go. Clair wasn’t sure if she was relieved or sad. She stashed her book into her backpack and stood up with the rest of the class. As she waited for the others to file out, while nibbling absentmindedly on her lower lip, Clair was thinking about signing up for the college’s softball team. She had been pretty good at it when she was in high school. Besides, she needed a sport to add to her college records. It sounded like fun. As the room started to disperse, Clair moved toward the door herself. Something was tugging at her to glance over her shoulder at the man teaching the class, but she lost her nerve to do so. She didn’t understand these feelings that were flaring through her since she had come into his classroom. Clair tried to tell herself that they were just born out of her newly found freedom and to be disregarded easily.

Somehow, she wasn’t convinced.

 

[desperado1089]

To the surprise of some among the faculty (except perhaps those who followed college baseball), Caldwell had actually been second baseman for his college team, on top of his participation in Air Force ROTC. In addition, he'd helped coach his niece's softball team and his nephew's little league team, so he had a lot of experience both as a player and a coach. So he got the position of assistant coach fairly easily, but he let the indomitable force of nature that was the head coach handle the tryouts. She had a lot of bite, and when Caldwell had asked her if she was in the service, she'd told him she was with the Marines in 'Nam, a head nurse at a field hospital during the worst of the fighting.

So the two of them, one older veteran, one younger reservist, enjoyed a close working relationship and by the time the first practice came around, Coach Harding, USMC, retired, Linda to her friends, was happy to watch Caldwell take point and run around in a grey T-shirt and blue shorts, both printed with the letters "USAF", the sun glinting off his Air Force-issue aviator sunglasses. And Caldwell was very pleased to see Clair among those who had made the team. He'd been struggling with feelings he probably shouldn't have ever since day one, and he was still stuck on how to handle them. Seeing her in whatever she chose to wear to practice was probably not going to help matters much.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Softball tryouts had been brutal. Far more brutal than anything she had ever done, but she kept up. She and Coach Harding had discussed her position on the team.

“I’ve played outfield, shortstop and first base, Coach.”

Coach Harding thought for a moment.

“I’m going to put you at shortstop for now, Johnson. Get out there and let’s see what you can do.”

Clair grinned a little and jogged out to her position, glove at the ready. She certainly was glad of the blue shorts and light blue tee shirt she wore. Her feet were in a pair of black converse tennis shoes. Clair bounced on her toes as she waited for the batter to hit one to her. A grounder came her way and Clair scooped it up and threw it automatically to first base. There were a few high ones and mostly grounders. On the fourth pitch, she happened to take her eyes off the batter, spotting Professor Caldwell dressed in a grey tee shirt and blue shorts, looking far more attractive than any man had a right to. At the same time her eyes had spotted Caldwell, a ball came towards her, she missed it and it slid right between her legs to the outfield. Clair silently cussed her lack of attention.

What the heck was Professor Caldwell doing out here. Either the man was stalking her (which she automatically dismissed as a sense of her imagination) or from the looks of it, he was Coach Harding’s assistant. What were the odds?

 

[desperado1089]

Caldwell did not miss Clair's glance towards him and thus there was little doubt in his mind that he was the cause of the subsequent error. So maybe it's not so one-sided, he thought to himself regarding his own inappropriate thoughts regarding one of his brightest students.

He decided to test her focus while at the same time giving the team a bigger challenge. He set his whistle down on the bench and picked up a baseball glove, large enough for softball as well. It was well-used but well-maintained and it slid onto his hand easily. He also donned the same cap that the girls would be wearing at games and called for the pitcher to take five.

"Alright, Wildcats, you got a new pitcher on the mound! Some of you know me as Professor or Major Caldwell, but out here I am Assistant Coach Caldwell. I am going to pitch as if I am from the opposing team. Everyone drop your gloves and grab a helmet and bat, save the catcher. Play ball!" He then held out his glove for the pitcher to toss him the ball, which he caught expertly.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Clair swallowed hard as Coach Caldwell took to the field then to the pitching mound. His instructions were clear and concise. She jogged to the dugout with the other girls, grabbing a helmet as she did so. Once in the dugout, she heard the girls whispering about Coach Caldwell. How well he filled out those shorts and how handsome he was. All the things’ girls do when there was a gorgeous man around. One of the more bustier girls elbowed her way to the front. Obviously, the girl wanted to be the first batter up. Blushing to the roots of her hair, Clair was fine with that and walked out to the on-deck circle to warm up. She watched as they girl called Emily went straight to the batter’s box. She stuck her butt out and jiggled her boobs a little. Clair watched her as she warmed up and inwardly giggled as the girl struck out. She waited to Emily to head back to the dugout before she moved to the batter’s box.

Concentrate on the ball. Never mind the man who’s throwing it. Easier said than done. However, Clair was determined. Clair got ready to bat and waited for the ball to come over the plate. She silently sent up a prayer that she would hit it and not make herself look like a fool. Softball was her escape. However, it looked like escaping the man who was doing strange things to her emotions not to mention her body, was not going to be an escape.

 

[desperado1089]

This was it. If she could hit the ball, then he'd consider succumbing to their apparent mutual desire. If she got so distracted she struck out, he'd let it go. Or at least he would try. He was willing to give her a better chance than those barbie dolls that somehow had the talent to make the team yet spent half the time falling over themselves making googly eyes at him.

Deciding to try some encouragement, he relaxed his stance for a moment. "You got this, Clair," he said. "Remember, head in the game. Leave everything else off the field. Make me proud." And then he got back in a softball pitcher's stance and executed a flawless pitch, his arm windmilling once before it let fly the ball, sailing straight towards the strike zone like a Tomahawk missile.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Clair took up her stance in the batter’s box, elbows cocked, bat held slightly in the air and turned her attention to Coach Caldwell. Her eyes narrowed in concentration as she waited for him to pitch the ball to her and here it came, straight and fast as an arrow. She had heard his words, though she had let them go as she concentrated. She had this. As the ball came in striking range, she swung. There was a satisfying “crack” as bat met ball. Coach hadn’t said if they were just batting so she lobbed her bat to the side and ran for first as someone fielded the ball.

Once she got to first base, her mind turned toward his words. He was right. Everything else, no matter what it was, stayed off the field. This was softball and it demanded her full attention. She adjusted her helmet and led off the base… just a little and with a cheeky little grin to boot.

 

[desperado1089]

The ball soared over their heads and landed beyond the outfield fence. "Look at that, ladies! We got ourselves a slugger! Johnson, you're batting cleanup on our first game. You there," he said, turning towards the girl who had struck out. "Lila, was it? Take a lap around the fence and grab the ball while you're out there. Johnson, if you wouldn't mind grabbing another ball so we can keep this moving? We'll work on a full drill later, sorry, I should've said this was just for batting."

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Batting clean-up? Who? Her? Clair didn’t have time to think about it while she jogged off first base and headed to get him another ball. She watched as Lila did as she was told even though she threw Clair a dirty look. Unsure what she had done to the pretty girl, Clair simply ignored her, hoping whatever bee was in Lila’s bonnet would fly away, along with Lila. She tossed Coach another ball and went to sit in the dugout.

Lila came back grumbling. As she passed Clair she intentionally kicked Clair’s feet, which weren’t in her way at all.

“Oh, sorry.”

Lila’s apology seemed a little nasty to Clair, but she simply moved her feet more toward the bench she was sitting on. A quick glance at Lila told Clair that the other girl was looking a little flushed from her jog around the ballpark. Maybe Clair was just imagining things. In any case, Clair went back to watching the other girls bat. It didn’t take long for them to go through their line-up. Most of the girls managed to get in a hit. Coach wasn’t taking it easy on them either. He didn’t play favorites. By the time all the team got a chance to bat, they were all sweaty and hot.

 

[desperado1089]

Caldwell had seen the way Lila had kicked Clair's feet, as one did not end up being qualified to fly fighter jets by being half-blind. When the lineup had been gone through, he went over to where the Head Coach was and engaged in a brief but quiet discussion with her. Both of them marched over to the dugout and both coaches were regarding Lila with no small amount of ire.

"Jones!", Head Coach Harding shouted, in her best drill sergeant voice, "you're off the team as of right now, do you understand me? No one, and I mean no one, attacks another player and gets away with it! Not on my watch! Now off the field with you!" She snapped her arm out to its full length, her index finger trained on the exit like a laser sight.

"But Coach," she replied, laying it on thick, "I said I was sorry." Harding had to fight to not roll her eyes. "That might work on your barbie doll friends, but don't insult my intelligence. Now, march!" Lila realized when she was beat and exercised the better part of valor and left. "If you see her anywhere near Clair, come find me, Caldwell," she said. "Yes, ma'am," Caldwell said as the stout-hearted Marine walked off.

"Right, well, I did want to run you all through a more intense fielding drill, but you all look worn out and it's only the first practice. Let's take a vote. All in favor of continuing, raise their hand. All who would prefer to call it a day, show me the 'time out' hand signal."

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Clair looked shocked at the situation. She didn’t mean for anyone to get kicked off the team and certainly not because of her. Inwardly she sighed as she watched Lila leave. It wasn’t over. It never was with girls like her. It was always someone else’s fault but their own. Clair got to her feet and definitely heaved a sigh of relief along with the other girls as Coach Caldwell called practice, well, sort of. Clair was looking forward to a cool shower. A quick glance around her and she saw many of the girls giving the “time out” signal and she joined them.

As she stood around waiting for coach to call practice. She grabbed up her gear and waited, slightly fanning herself with her free hand. One other thing worried her. Showers. Oh, she knew she needed one but it never went well for Clair. It was part of her experience that the girls tended to pick on her, for what reason, she had no idea. She was always quiet to keep from drawing attention to herself. Still there was always one in the crowd that would find an excuse to snap her with a damp towel and that hurt! So, Clair’s intention was, if practice got called, to hide out in a bathroom stall until the place emptied out and then she would sneak in her shower. That plan should work, wouldn’t it?