A Different Kind of Guidance (closed for desperado1089)

Caldwell would do Clair one better and ask her to help him pack up the gear after he called practice. He had a feeling that the girls on the team would give her shit for what had happened and he wanted to give Clair the opportunity to avoid that if she wanted to take it.

He'd talk about nothing of consequence but the conversation would flow easily. How her other classes were doing, any other sports she liked to play or watch, whether or not any members of her family were in the military and his own experiences of all those things. He studiously avoided recounting the story where he joined the mile-high club aboard a C-130 (the thing he mentioned as part of the icebreaker session the first day of sex ed class) as he got the impression she wouldn't feel comfortable talking about sex.
 
Clair sent up a silent prayer for Coach Caldwell. His timing couldn’t have been more perfect. With relief and thankfulness, she helped him pack up the gear as the girls raced out to the locker room. It was a Friday and most of them were looking forward to dates they had secured earlier in the week. She couldn’t lie to herself; she was a bit worried about Lila after what had happened. People like her always found someone else to blame for their actions. They simply were either bullies or arrogant and Lila was probably both. Clair didn’t know the young woman but had seen her on campus. Privileged. Yeah. That was Lila.

He made conversation easily enough and Clair wished she had that ability herself. While they packed the gear, he asked her about things and she answered him truthfully. Classes were ok. Her father had been a firefighter in the Air Force when she was little. He had been retired now for a while. By the time they were done, Clair glanced toward the door to the locker room. The girls should be gone by now. Thankfully. Her day was winding down and she looked forward to a hot shower then heading back to her dorm to study and grab a bite to eat before heading to bed.

“Coach Caldwell, can I ask you something? How did you know Lila kicked my foot? And thank you, by the way, for standing up for me. I didn’t mean for her to get kicked off the team though or get those young men kicked out of your class a few weeks ago.”

Clair was absentmindedly running her cross around the chain that was around her neck. It was the most she had ever spoken to him since he had introduced himself as her professor in class. The day hadn’t been so awfully bad since that morning. Most people in college were old enough to act like the grown-up young adults they were but there would always be those few….

Her head canted slightly as she regarded him. He really was handsome and caring. It was the latter that she warmed up to. Her own dark brown eyes were warm as she regarded him.
 
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Stephen smiled as Clair stopped to ask him a question and he took off his sunglasses to regard her just as warmly as she was regarding him. "I've always had good eyesight. I was thankfully looking in the right direction at the right time. I saw her leg swing and I saw the look on your face. It wasn't difficult to put two and two together. I detest bullies, always have. And when I set down a boundary I expect it to be followed. Those boys the other week were giving you crap for your religious beliefs, and I specifically told everyone that the class was a judgment-free zone. That is a boundary that they crossed. They know now that they're done if they try it again. However...I don't think I have ever stood up for someone as...beautiful as you. So I guess I'm a little more zealous than usual."
 
What he said about Lila made sense, she supposed so she simply nodded. His comment about those boys in her class registered but it was the compliment he paid her that made color heat her cheeks and flush her chest. She parted her lips to say something and when nothing came out, she simply ducked her head then glanced around them to note that they were alone on deck. Biting her lip, she took her courage in hand and looked up at him again.

“I… well, thank you. For everything, Coach. I’ll see you tomorrow for practice.”

Clair beat a hasty retreat into the locker room and looked around, breathing a sigh of relief. She really owed Coach one, even if he didn’t know what for. Looking from row to row, she noted no one was about, the showers were empty too. Clair quickly got undressed and wrapped her towel around her before heading into the showers and choosing one at the other end of where she stood, she quickly got her shower started before she stripped off her towel and stepped into the heated spray.

The locker room seemed eerily quiet, but Clair wasn’t really paying attention, she had her head under the shower’s spray soaking then washing her hair before rinsing it out. She reached for her soap and started to lather up her body. The hot water fell over her worked out muscles and she groaned lightly. As the heat coated her body, Clair closed her eyes to enjoy the pleasure more fully.

Coach Caldwell entered her thoughts. He was such a good person, she thought as she used a hand to rinse off the soap. There was no denying that he was handsome and if she cared to admit it, sexy as well. She drew in a deep breath as she thought about him, physically. Toned muscles. Confident. The way his shirts stretched across his chest when he reached up to write something on the blackboard in his classroom. She tried not to be distracted. She tried. She really did. It wasn’t her fault he didn’t make that easy. Her hand unconsciously slid down between her thighs and lightly stroked across her center. The falling soap and the water both made it easy for her to slide her finger into her core. What would he be like as a lover? She wondered to herself as another finger joined the first one, slipping in and out of her heat as she relaxed back against the shower wall, her legs slightly splayed apart. Her fingernail lightly scraping against her clit before sliding back inside of her heated body. The shower’s spray hit the front of her body, heating her body but not nearly as heated as her thoughts were becoming. Clair slid a third finger inside her body, her hips arching up to meet it as a small moan of pleasure slipped from her lips. Mercy! What would his tongue feel like inside of her? Or even stroking against her clit? Clair bit down on her lips. The place might be empty except for her, but she didn’t need to vocalize her pleasure and let it bounce off the walls around her. As her fingers pumped faster in and out of her body, her hips rising and falling to meet them, small sounds of pleasure came from her throat as she thought and fantasized about her handsome teacher and coach, wondering what he could teach her. The more she thought about it, the more she wished there was such an option.
 
Caldwell waved good-bye, and drew a heavy sigh. Would that he could follow her into the locker room, bend her over a bench, and show her what her religion has forced her to miss. The things he could teach her...the thoughts filled his head just as quickly as the blood filled his cock, and soon his PT shorts had a rather significant issue with the front remaining flat and loose.

Deciding that he should hang his whistle up in Coach Harding's office--which was accessed through the women's locker room--he stepped inside and his steps faltered when he heard the shower running. What the hell? Am I in an alternate reality where shit turns out like it does in porn? I should leave. If she catches me I'm done for.

Yet his footsteps, as silent as he could make them, carried him forward, his erection straining against his shorts as he shed his shirt along the way. He stopped just shy of the last shower stall, and, taking off his sunglasses and putting them on a nearby shelf, he peeked around the corner...
 
Clair wasn’t a slender female by society’s current standards by any means. Her chest was thrust upwards while water poured over it. Her nipples were hard. Her hand was between her thighs furiously thrusting in and out as she chased her orgasm. Her legs began to tremble as her pleasure slammed into her until her whole naked body started to tremble as well. She may not be slender but she had nothing to be embarrassed by either. Full, rounded taut breasts shook and bounced. Her waist was small, flaring into her full hips. She used a pair of slim hair cutting scissors to keep herself trimmed up. While her mother didn’t agree with today’s young ladies and their need to be “bald” and while Clair found nothing wrong with it, she, herself, preferred to just keep it short and trimmed neatly.

She groaned softly. Her sound was pitched low but it still echoed in the empty room. Her eyes were closed as she sucked in air as if her lungs were feeling shortchanged. Her head was tipped back against the ceramic wall, black hair plastered to her shoulders and the wall.

“Oh, damn it, Coach.”

No matter how much she found herself drawn to him, they couldn’t. They shouldn’t. But, oh, how she wished they could.
 
Caldwell's heart skipped a beat when she said, "Damn it, Coach." Here was proof positive that the two of them felt the same about each other. And she was clearly not acting like a good Christian girl about this (not that that was a bad thing, of course!), which caused the voice of reason that was about to tell him that what he was about to do was a very bad idea, to shut the fuck up.

He stepped out of his shoes and pulled off his socks, and dropped his shorts and underwear before stepping into view, his cock sticking straight out. In a lust-filled whisper, voice strangled with emotion, he said, "Call me Stephen if you want me to come closer." His voice was loud enough to be heard, but soft enough not to be too startling...or so he hoped.
 
Her hands jerked away from between her thighs as her eyes flew open. She stared at him wide-eyed for all of a moment, before her eyes went straight to his aroused cock. Definitely aroused. One of her arms covered her breasts as her eyes flew back up to his face. Her voice was barely a choked whisper.

“What are you doing in here?”

She had wanted to add his first name to her whisper but something forestalled her. Her cheeks took on a deep rosy hue. She had been caught, naked and masturbating, by the one man she fantasied about and now, she wondered just how much he had heard. Her back straightened against the wall, the water still cascading over her body. Some part of her mind wanted him to come closer and another part was scared he would.
 
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"I was gonna hang up my whistle in Harding's office, but when I heard you...I just couldn't help myself," Stephen admitted, not coming closer and even taking a half-step back just in case she felt intimidated or scared. "Since the first day of class, my mind has wandered to thoughts I know I shouldn't have. But I have them, oh I have them real bad, Clair. And it seems to me that you have them too. So I offer you a choice, because consent is very, very important to me. You can either invite me into your shower, and we can proceed in the way we both so deeply desire, even if we are loath to admit it. Or you can tell me no, in which case I will humbly leave you to your own devices and, should you find yourself unable to continue to have me as your professor, I will aid you in finding another Sex Ed class without any penalty and as discreetly and professionally as possible. So that is where we stand, but I will say that if some jock was standing where I am now and heard you say his name, they would be just as likely to assume consent as they would to offer you the same choice."

In a bid to attempt to make things slightly less awkward, Stephen leaned over to the space where he'd ditched his clothes and grabbed his exercise shorts, holding them out in front of his crotch like a shield. Otherwise he was totally nude save for his dog tags, which rested in the shallow cleft beneath his defined pectoral muscles.
 
Her eyes watched. Her ears listened. Clair watched him and appreciated everything he said and finally realized he was feeling the pull between them too. She bit her lower lip before responding just as quietly as before.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me, Stephen.”

Her eyes caught and held to his dog tags. She wasn’t quite ready to meet his eyes just yet. The sound of the shower was the only sound in both of their ears at the moment.

“But…” she started… “I have been having those same thoughts. Maybe. I’m not sure what yours are, since I don’t know all that much about men really.”

Her eyes slowly traversed upward, taking in the sight of him, naked as she was. Every sinew, every muscle that clung to him. She wasn’t scared of him but rather of the unknown and she did want to know. She did. Finally, her eyes met his and held. Every thought she had been thinking was right there in her eyes for him to read.
 
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"I think that particular plane has already taken off," Stephen said, already stepping forward and tossing his shorts back towards where he'd discarded them. He read the expression in her eyes and Clair would barely have time to register his pleased smile before he was under the water with her, his arms around her and his lips upon hers and his cock sandwiched upwards between them.

His kiss was both searing and instructive, teaching her how to reciprocate without using words as he made the first overtures towards a dance between their tongues.
 
She watched as his shorts sailed back to where they had been piled along with his shirt. Her eyes darted quickly back to his as she silently watched him come closer and join her under the shower’s spray. Her mind was in a whirl but not as much of a whirl as it was going to become as his arms snaked around her, drawing her tightly to his own body. Her mind went into overdrive. An overdrive of panic, that is. She had very little time to think as his head lowered and she felt his lips against her own.

She had only been kissed one other time in her life and Stephen’s kiss was nothing like Timmy’s clumsy attempt to steal a kiss behind the school during recess when they were seven. Then again, Timmy had been a boy but there was nothing boyish about Stephen Caldwell. As his hardened cock throbbed against her flat stomach proved. Her eyes closed as she gave herself up to the kiss. The palms of her hands slid up to his forearms, her fingers gripping him there. Her blood thundered through her ears; she went weak in the knees and was thankful for the arms surrounding her to keep her from falling. The heated water slipped down and between both of their naked bodies. Her hard, pointed nipples pressed into his chest. She followed by example and moaned as her tongue danced with his. There was no sense of urgency and time, to her, seemed to stop as she soaked him through her naked, wet body.
 
Caldwell ran his hands over her body, memorizing every curve, every nook and cranny. His thick, strong hand slipped between Clair's thighs and a finger slid inside her wet heat and withdrew evidence of her arousal before he broke the kiss to lick his finger clean. "Perfect," he murmured. "Everything about you is perfect. I don't think I can wait another moment. You know what's about to happen. Are you ready and willing for some personal one-on-one, hands-on lessons in human sexuality?" He said this last bit with a playful grin on his face, but he could not be more serious about making sure she was ready, and he held her gaze to make sure she understood this.
 
Her cheeks reddened as he tasted her growing desire. His words made her heart race. Was she ready? Obviously. Was she willing? She stared up into his eyes and got lost in what she saw there. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was scared of what was about to happen, but she knew she wanted it. More than anything. Her lips twitched up at the corners slightly as her hands moved across his arms and down the plane of his chest. She could feel his heartbeat strongly under her palms. Her own heart was beating wildly.

She wasn’t sure of anything. What they were about to do went against everything her parents had instilled in her. Up until now, she had been able to keep her urges to herself. Stephen Caldwell had a pull on her like nothing she had ever experienced before.

“My personal tutor, hm?” She murmured.

She’d worry about her sexual education class later. Right now, she needed and wanted him and what he had pressed against her stomach.

“I’m ready and willing, but you'll have to show me what to do," she smiled up at him nervously.
 
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"All I need you to do is trust me." Stephen gently pushed her back against the tile, his face lit up with the passion he was about to unleash. He trailed his hand down her side and gripped her knee as he lifted it up and outward as far as it could go while he used his free hand to line himself up with her entrance.

However, he hesitated for one final, important matter. "I do not know if I will be able to pull out in time. I can easily get a morning-after pill for you, but if we are going to make this a regular thing, the campus health department offers birth control over the counter. We just coveted that in class last week, so I know you know what I'm talking about."
 
They hardly knew each other, but something inside her just knew she could trust him so still holding his eyes with her own, she nodded. The passion in his eyes was undeniable even to someone as inexperienced as she was. Her heart just wouldn’t stop thumping against her chest as she watched his hand descend to her knee, lifting it and spreading it as wide as he could, exposing her inner core to him. her breath caught somewhere in her chest as she watched him line up the head of his cock with her core. Was she scared? Hell, yes! Did she want him? Ditto. Her fingers dug into his upper arms before she glanced back into his face when he started speaking again.

Oh lord. She had forgotten about birth control. She was Catholic and brought up to believe that such things were a sin. What a quandary this was turning into. She didn’t know what she believed or thought, well, at least at the moment.

“Are we going to make this a regular thing? And don’t worry, I’ll take care of it if we are. I’m safe right now.”

Yeah, she remembered the discussion in class and as always, she kept her mouth shut simply because of the beliefs and rules she had been brought up with. This, between them, was going to have to take some thinking on her part. Of course she wanted it to become a regular thing. She had looked up the college’s rules and while there was nothing against professors fraternizing with students (since the latter were adults after all), it was highly discouraged. So, if he was willing to go there, she would go with him.
 
"I'm sure you recall that the timing method is only 75% effective. But I trust you." Stephen smiled and looked straight into her eyes as he slowly, carefully entered her without further ado, his thick member invading her and forcing her to conform to the new intrusion. The sensations almost did him in right away, and he moaned shamelessly, the sound echoing off the tiles.

"Oh, fuck," he finally breathed out, still working on filling her for the first time as he said so, "we are SO making this a regular thing!"
 
She was about to explain that she knew her body, knew when she was at the highest risk of being fertile, but even as she opened her mouth to say something, her eyes widened. He had just inserted himself into her body and he was HUGE. Her inner muscles worked to relax enough to accept him stretching her open to accept him. She was extremely thankful that he moved slowly, giving her time to adjust. She couldn’t help but grin and give a small laugh at his enthusiasm when he said they were going to make it a regular thing. It was nice to know that she wasn’t going to be just a first and only time thing with him.

Her laugh turned into a low moan that bounced off the tile walls when she felt the head of his cock press against something inside her. A panicked look entered her eyes.

“Stephen…” she whimpered.

The fear laced with urgency, laced in her voice as her fingers dug into his forearms.
 
The knowledge that he was about to literally take her virginity, in the purest, most physical sense, did something to his lizard brain and Stephen moaned softly in response. "I'll be as gentle as I can," he promised as he put one hand on each of Clair's hips to get a decent grip.

Before he did anything else, he looked into her eyes and thought about a lot of things. He wasn't that much older than she was, and plus she carried herself with a grace and a wisdom beyond her years. She was able to fend off the tendency of some of her peers to preen and trip over themselves when faced with an attractive professor. But she still wanted him, and he her. This had a high chance of ending very well for them both, if he continued to treat her well.

"Whatever happens," he said, "I will never, ever hurt you in any way, shape or form." He pulled himself out about an inch or two and then thrust forward with the least force needed to 'pop her cherry,' as it were. If successful, he'd be all the way inside her in the very next moment.
 
His words echoed in her head. This moment, right now, had her standing on an edge she didn’t completely understand. However, Stephen was not only being honest with her, but gentle as well. She silently appreciated it, this time at least.

“Do it, Stephen,” she whispered encouraging him softly and braced herself.

She watched as he pulled back just a bit and she made a small sound in her throat. Then she felt it. A sharp pain that reverberated throughout her pelvic area, making her arch her back away from the shower’s wall. Her head fell forward to rest on his arm as she sucked in air. It took her a moment or two to adjust to the fullness of him as he slid all the way to the back of her channel, claiming her fully and completely. Again, she thought about how huge and thick he was. It made her groan all over again.

After a moment she lifted her head and leaned back against the shower wall. Her eyes were darker as they met his. Then the little pristine Catholic girl let it be known, between them, that she could have a rather naughty mouth.

“Fuck me, Stephen.”
 
The way she said to "fuck" her, so raw and unfiltered, nearly caused him to abandon all restraint and pound her into the tile. But he figured that such a thing would not end well for her, particularly when it came to their shared future and her willingness to pursue it. So Stephen started to slowly move his hips back and forth, up and down, favoring a slow, sensual pace...at least at first.

He made up for it by whispering dirty things in her ear: "I'm gonna bet you're gonna turn into a horny little church girl after this. Maybe after you graduate I'll carry you home and treat you like a princess during the day and fuck the hell out of you ever night. Mmm, the idea makes me so hard. You feel it? You feel how much I throb when I think about how we could be the perfect naughty couple together?"
 
The man was a gentleman, even when he wasn’t. That may not make sense if she had said it aloud, but it made sense to her. Her head tilted back against the tile of the shower as he slowly moved in and out of her. Part of her was grateful but there was another part of her that was fueled by the desire and need he was building in her and she recognized that she wasn’t such a good girl after all.

Stephen leaned in, whispering dirty little things in her ear that made her shiver and tighten her inner walls around him, sucking him in as deeply as she could get him with every inward stroke. She rubbed her cheek against his, her lips close to his own ear.

“I can feel you. Hard. Throbbing. Stretching me to fit around you.”

The simple idea he laid out in her ear made her hot and needy. Isn’t that it was supposed to be? A lady in public and a wanton in the bedroom?
 
Stephen could feel her starting to get used to him. It was very tempting to start to go faster, harder. "You feel fucking amazing," he grunted as he fell victim to said temptation and started to gradually increase his pace.

Even though he'd said those things, in his heart of hearts he thought Clair should be whatever kind of woman, whatever kind of lover she wants to be. He would guide her to the water, but it would be up to her to drink from it, to borrow an old phrase. Hopefully his dirty talk wouldn't take root in her mind as gospel, as ironic as that particular turn of phrase was in this instance.

The whole time his grip on her was soft yet there was a security behind it, as if he was able to switch in an instant to keeping her safe and protecting her from anything that might harm her, including a fall to the floor.
 
He made her smile. She couldn’t believe they were here. Together.

“You do too.”

Her breasts, nipples harder than pebbles, jiggled as he moved inside her and when his pace picked up. The heat inside her lower belly grew. A whimper left her lips as her eyes closed. The heat continued to spread throughout her body. Her nails dug into his forearms. Her internal muscles sucked and pulled at his cock as she chased her first orgasm with a man. It was so different from masturbating. Clair knew she could get use to this. How could this be a sin?
 
Stephen was not far off from his own climax. The whole situation, plus how unbelievably tight she was, broke down his willpower faster than a speeding F-22. With every stroke she would feel him swell bigger, throb more noticeably. "I'm gonna cum baby, I dunno how long I can hold it." Yet he continued on, determined to at least get her over the edge at the same time he did.
 
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