#malberries | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justjessame · 5 years ago

Text

Put Me In Coach 2

“He’s watching you,” Mary whispered, as I looked at her in confusion. “Coach Negan has been eye fucking you ever since he walked into the cafeteria.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re fucking insane.” I let my eyes fall back to the book in my hand. “He’s not looking at me, and if he is, then it’s probably because the random thought of ‘oh shit, have I done inventory lately’ popped into his head.” Eric snickered from beside me. I took a drink from my bottle of water and pretended I was reading. He was staring at me. I could feel it across the crowded room. I just couldn’t acknowledge it. Even though I’m eighteen and technically an adult, he’s still a fucking teacher. And married. A flash of guilt gnawed in my stomach. I couldn’t think of her, his wife.

“If this is insanity, than fuck if I don’t want a dose of what you’re having.” Eric muttered, and then I felt him. Behind me, the musky scent of him, his heat. Fuck.

“Miss Kendall.” That fucking voice of his. It didn’t help that I knew exactly how deep it could get, and just how hot he could sound moaning my name. I licked my lips and felt his hand touch my shoulder.

“Yeah, Coach.” I was happy to hear my voice both steady and not breathless. I looked up at him over my shoulder and smiled. “Is there a problem?”

His eyes were dark. A darkness I was learning very well. “Not a problem, Miss Kendall, a reminder.” I swallowed as he pulled his hand back. “You promised to give me a hand,” I heard Eric snicker again and closed my eyes. “With grading.” I nodded and bit my lip.

“Of course,” I took a deep breath. “I have a free period after lunch.” It was the second semester and I didn’t have his class anymore. The free period was actually an independent study that I was doing, but what’s the point of it if I couldn’t be independent?

Negan smiled down at me. “See you then.” He nodded a parting to my now silent best friends and walked away. I turned back to my book.

“Tell me he’s bent you over his desk and spanked you until you couldn’t sit down comfortably.” Eric practically moaned. “Please throw me that one fucking bone, bitch.”

I shook my head and ignored him. “Come on, Eric,” Mary said, her eye roll evident in her tone. “We’re talking about PERFECT Amara Kendall here. What would Coach Negan have to spank her over?”

“Mary, Mary, Mary,” Eric sounded completely bored with that line. “Remember that Amara fucking Kendall had to retake PE because of her fucking mouth. Wait, has he fucked your mouth?” Damn it. The insatiable curiosity of these two assholes would kill me.

I shook my head and continued to ignore them. “She’s not talking, Eric. Quiet as a fucking tomb.” Mary sounded so put out that I nearly giggled. Nearly. “Unlike us, her BEST FRIENDS, she doesn’t share. Shouldn’t surprise us, I guess, she never shared in kindergarten either.”

That did it. I laughed. “You are such thirsty fucking whores.” I shook my head and sat down my book. “Kindergarten? Really?” I rolled my eyes. “You’re never gonna forgive me for that fucking Barbie doll are you?”

“It was Ken, bitch, and you wouldn’t share him so I could reenact all my debased ideas.” She was glaring at me and Eric as we laughed. “I had such creativity and it was STARVED because you wouldn’t share.”

“I saved you from being forced into therapy, you twisted asshole.” I was shaking with laughter. “Seriously, what five year old acts out that kind of shit in kindergarten?”

“A creative one,” Eric snickered. “Creative and had too much access to Skinamax.”

We were all laughing now. Fuck, I loved the two idiots. But I couldn’t share what Negan and I were doing. They knew something happened, but he was STILL a fucking teacher. And I wasn’t going to lose him his job. “You know I want to share, but-” I sighed. “The less you know, the less you could be asked.”

“Do you honestly think that anyone would question us?” Eric scoffed. “You’re an adult, Amara. No one cares.”

“Well, the board might,” Mary shrugged. “What?” Eric had shot her a look. “It’s true. She has a point. He’s a teacher, not HER teacher, but he’s still a teacher.” She took my hand. “Sorry, we’ve been pushing for info, Amara. I think I get it now.” I squeezed her hand. “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop giving you shit, but I won’t ask for details.” I rolled my eyes.

“Fine, yeah, me too.” Eric begrudgingly agreed. “But the SECOND we get our fucking diplomas, I want GRAPHIC fucking details. Videos if you have them.”

I walked to the gym after lunch and grinned as I watched Negan bark out orders to the class. “I’m leaving you all to your own devices, but I swear to Christ if I hear a Lord of the Flies situation going down, I will shut that shit down immediately. Understood?” A round of agreement and he motioned for them to grab the equipment of their choosing.

“Miss Kendall.” He greeted me as I made my way through his students. “Let’s go into my office and we’ll get started with that stack of papers to grade.” The door had barely shut behind him when I turned and met his arms and mouth. Groaning into one another’s searching hands and ravenous mouths, I felt his hands sliding down my back to pull up my skirt over my hips. His fingers met lace and his teeth nipped at my lip. And then the panties met the same fate that each and every pair before them had, luckily I found a place to buy in bulk.

My hands were tugging down the elastic of his shorts, and then as though Eric had wished it, I was bent over the desk. But instead of a spanking, I was getting something better. He slid inside of me fully and then his hand was wrapped around my throat and pulling me back into his chest. Fuck. As we moved together, my head turning to search for his mouth and him anticipating my want and meeting me, I felt that build. The one that had become as natural as breathing to me. The climb toward an orgasm with Negan pounding into me with an expertise that only he had.

Roaring through both of us, I fell forward on the desk with a quiet chuckle as he followed me, his body over top of my own, always so hesitant to pull away. Pull out before he had to, he was completely against that. He wanted to feel me, for as long as we could stay joined, and I loved it. His weight against me, front or back, the feeling of him slowly leaving me. Hell even the mess that he left behind, until both of us could stand and our breaths weren’t pants any longer. Then he’d wipe me clean, kissing my knees or my thigh and smile up at me.

“I’m getting used to this, Amara.” He said, once I was clean and my skirt was down, panties replaced with a spare pair I kept in my bag. “You, this.” He had replaced his own clothes and was sitting in his desk chair. “Fuck if I’m not gonna miss you next year.”

I sighed, and sat on his lap. Letting my head find the crook of his shoulder, I played with the buttons on his polo shirt. “I’m not going far, Negan.” I offered, we’d been having this conversation a lot lately. “Besides,” I swallowed, not wanting to remind him or me of HER. “Maybe it’s for the best.” I offered instead. “I leave, your life gets back to normal.”

He chuckled into my hair. “Normal?” I felt him inhale deeply. “What the fuck is Normal, princess?” I didn’t actually think he was asking me, so I didn’t answer. “Still gonna fucking miss you.”

I smiled, and tilted my head up so I could look into his face. “I’ll miss you too, Coach.” I winked and he grinned. “Now, are there actual tests to grade, or was this an elaborate farce to get me alone and at your mercy?”

He laughed and opened a drawer filled with paper. “There’s always shit to grade, Amara, you know that.” And then he let me up, and left the office so I could grade his papers while he went back to teaching. I wondered, pulling a red pen out of his drawer, would he really miss me? Or was I just the latest in a long line of students that he’d done this with before?

“Amara!” I heard a loud male voice yell as I was leaving the school at the end of the day. Looking around I found the source. Joe Malberry. Captain of the wrestling team. I’d gone out on two dates with Joe, he’d asked me to Homecoming and I turned him down. I waited until he caught up with me, wondering what he could possibly want now.

“Hey, Joe.” I smiled up at him. He was broad. In his shoulders and everywhere else. Trust me, I knew. “What’s up?”

He was smiling down at me. His huge body blocked the sun effectively. ‘Hey, Amara, I was wondering, do you have a date yet for the Spring formal?” Ugh, this again. But I stopped myself from a fast no. Why shouldn’t I go to at least a few dances my final year?

“When is it again?” I hadn’t paid any attention to the notices.

“Two weeks from Friday.” He offered, his smile deepening at my interest.

“Sure.” I answered, nodding. “Why not?”

He hugged me and twirled me around making me laugh. “Fucking awesome.” He set me back on my feet and grinned. “Just tell me the color of your dress and I’ll pick out your corsage and make sure we don’t clash.” Shit, he was excited.

“Absolutely, Joe.” I smiled and walked away after promising him to give him details he needed and plans to call him to hash out the plans. I was almost in my car when I felt it. Someone’s eyes on me, and looking up I saw Negan staring a hole into me from outside the gym. Shit.

Maybe I wasn’t such an adult. If I was, then I probably would have gone over to Negan and discussed what he must have witnessed between Joe and me. I would have just admitted that going to the dance sounded mildly fun. That Joe was a good guy and maybe, if I was feeling particularly brave, I’d admit that Joe and I had, once upon a time, screwed like rabbits.

Or, I could drive the fuck home and pretend he hadn’t seen or had that look on his face. I could force down dinner. I could fake my way through homework. I could take a LONG hot bath and then open up my laptop to look at formal dresses to get an idea of what I wanted to wear. And hairstyles. And shoes. Anything other than looking at my cell phone that had been dinging text message alerts since I drove away.

I knew it was him. It had to be. We’d promised the cell phone was an emergency only thing, but how many times had we broken that rule? And to Negan, this might actually constitute an emergency. Maybe. But I wasn’t nearly ready to look and see what he might be saying or texting. Not yet. I was a coward.

I was printing off a few hairstyle ideas when my phone rang. OK that wasn’t him. He NEVER called. He couldn’t. Not from home. Not where she was.

I tapped the answer button without looking down. “Hello?” I was still clicking through websites and came up short when I heard his voice. Shit.

“Miss Kendall?” Fuck. “I think we’re gonna have to discuss your performance today, privately.”

Fuck, shit, fuck. “Coach, I can explain.” I tried, but he stopped me from continuing.

“Which may have worked if you came to me today, Miss Kendall.” And hadn’t ignored my texts, I heard the unspoken irritation. “I expect you in my office first thing in the morning. Be prepared for-” I waited, swallowing hard. “Just be prepared, Miss Kendall.”

Damn it. He hung up before I could say another word. Which forced me to look at his texts.

Amara, what the fuck?

Young lady, answer me.

Amara, you need to explain what I fucking witnessed earlier.

Damn it, answer me, Amara.

If I don’t get an answer in the next ten fucking minutes, you’re gonna wish you had.

That was the last one. Shit. I should have fucking answered. I should have BRBd him or TTYLd. Something, anything, cause I had a fucking feeling that Eric would be getting a very clear graphic of his fantasy when I couldn’t sit down all day tomorrow.

I had trouble sleeping. I had trouble waking up. I had a shit ton of trouble getting out of bed and facing the day ahead. I was screwed. And not in any of the most enjoyable ways. I bit my lip and considered how to divert him from the very clear aggravation that he was feeling. First, armor.

I got up, reluctantly, but determined. Pulling a pair of the tightest jeans I owned from a drawer, a pair of boy silky boy short panties, and a strappy sports bra, I had a flash of brilliance. Stepping out of my bedroom, I yelled down the hallway for my dad.

Mom’s head popped out of their bedroom, half her face made up the other still a work in progress. “He’s already left for the day, Mara.” She offered, taking in my unusual outfit. “What did you need?”

“A sports jersey.” I said, walking toward her. “It’s dress up day at school, you know senior shenanigans.” She was giving me a look of wonder. Shit, why didn’t I play nice at school more with the stupidity. “Doesn’t Dad have a few from when he goes out with the guys?” My dad liked to pretend now and then that he liked silly things like sports.

She nodded, still looking at me like I’d been a victim of a body snatching. “Yeah, come in and go to the far back of his closet.” She sat down at her vanity and glanced at me as I made my way to his closet. “Those jeans, honey, are they-”

“Decent?” I asked, with a snicker. “Sure. If you squint past the painted on fabric and strategic tears.” I was flicking through Dad’s clothes until I spotted it. Baseball jersey for the win. And since it buttoned, I could, once I left the house, unbutton it and show off the very nice and very fetching sports bra I was wearing. “Thanks, Mom.” I offered, dropping a quick kiss on her cheek as I bounced out of her room.

“Amara, do take a change of clothes, just in case.” I rolled my eyes. And my friends wondered why I was the way I was.

“Absolutely, Mom.” I agreed, and went back to my room to finish getting ready.

Hair up in a high ponytail. A pair of blinding white chucks on my feet. Baseball cap I found in the hall closet tucked in my bag. An extra outfit on a hanger, just so my mom wouldn’t lose her shit. And then I was out the door. Early, way earlier than anyone should ever willingly show up at their school, but I was there.

I parked my car and pulled my bag out. Pulling the cap on my head and pulling my ponytail through the hole, I took a deep breath to prepare myself. If nothing else, the fact that I was wearing jeans and a jersey should throw him off his game. And if Negan was off his game, then maybe I could explain myself before I had anything to really worry about. Right? Sure, I promised myself. Negan could be reasonable. He WAS reasonable.

I walked through the empty hallways, the quiet feeling far more surreal and foreboding than any other time before. The silence stretched out before me, my shoes’ soles too soft to even give me the comfort of my own footfalls. I reached the gym before I was ready. Truthfully would I ever be ready to reach him? Nope.

His office door was closed and I almost thought I beat him to the school, but I saw the sliver of light peeking out and nearly groaned. Fuck. I took a moment to give myself a pep talk. Negan was an adult. He just didn’t know how to categorize what he’d seen between me and Joe. Once I explained, leaving out that we’d had sex, he’d be fine. He expected me to do normal senior things. Hadn’t he asked me about Homecoming and Prom? He understood that this was normal. He just didn’t like that I hadn’t told him about it. Calmer, I knocked and heard him tell me to come in.

“Miss Kendall.” He greeted me and my stomach did a flip. Shit he was really truly pissed. “Close the door.” Damn it.

I complied, and when I turned around I felt another flip in my stomach and thanked God I hadn’t had breakfast. Lying in the middle of his desk was the paddle that our principal always referred to as “Spanky” and lovingly reminded us of the day when it was used to hand out the real punishment. Fuck.

“Interesting outfit, Miss Kendall.” Good he’d noticed. “You don’t usually wear jeans. Especially jeans that look like they’ve been painted on.” Fuck. He didn’t sound diverted. He sounded irritated. Shit. “Gonna make the next few minutes take longer than they should, but trust me, they’re gonna happen.” Shit, fuck, shit.

“Negan.” His eyes flashed to mine. OK, nope. “Coach Negan.” I corrected and when he didn’t move I felt comfortable to go on. “Look, I know what you saw yesterday could be interpreted a few ways, but it’s not what you think.” I don’t think, anyway, I added in my head. “Joe was just asking-”

He stood up and I squeaked. Like a mouse. Shit. “What, Miss Kendall, did good ol Joe ask?” Fuck.

I swallowed down another squeak. “He asked me to the spring formal.” I rushed out, he was studying me. “I accepted.” That came out more or less as a breath.

“The spring formal?” Why did he sound so fucking dangerous repeating me? I nodded. “And you said yes?” Another nod. “But you couldn’t take five fucking seconds out of your day to pick up the fucking phone and tell me that?” Shit. Fuck. Shit.

“I just-” What? I tried to ask myself. What didn’t I just? “I didn’t want to-”

Negan had come closer as I was struggling to find words to explain something I didn’t quite understand myself. “You didn’t want to what, Amara?” He was so close I could feel his body heat. “Tell me you were ready to play high school senior? To tell me that you wanted to play in the kiddie pool after telling me that you didn’t want a ‘boy’?” All my words, all coming back to haunt me. Shit.

“It’s not like that, Negan.” I offered, looking up at him. “I just thought, maybe, one fucking dance-”

“You wanted to go to a dance?” He sounded like a broken record, spitting back my words with various levels of disbelief. “With the captain of the wrestling team?” Damn it, I knew he’d get to that part. “Didn’t you turn down good ol Joe at Homecoming?”

“Yes,” I answered, waiting for the next onslaught.

He nodded, and bit his lip. “Why would good ol Joe be willing to risk another possible rejection?” He was studying me again, and I know he saw the faint blush that hit me. “Ah, so good ol Joe was rejected for the dance, but NOT for the DANCE.”

I fought rolling my eyes. Wasn’t he supposed to be the fucking adult here? “Does that matter?”

“Yes, Miss Kendall, it fucking matters.” His eyes were blazing on mine. “It matters because you’re gonna go to a fucking dance with a guy who WILL expect a repeat of that early performance. It matters because NOW I’m gonna have to fucking go to a fucking high school dance and chaperone it. It matters because I’m gonna fucking brain his stupid ass if he fucking puts his hand lower than your upper back.”

“Negan,” I felt my eyes widening. “You can’t.” He was glaring down at me. “You can’t do any of that. You’ll lose your fucking job.”

“And whose fault is that, princess?” Shit, the heart of the matter. “Take off that ball cap.” I tugged it off and tossed it onto the chair. “Now, unbutton those ridiculous fucking jeans and bend over that desk.” Damn it, fucking Eric’s wet dream for the win. I unsnapped the button and unzipped the zipper.

“Should I-” I started but he shook his head. OK. I leaned over the desktop.

“Face down,” the coolness of the metal touched my cheek. I felt his hands on my waist, and then his fingers on the waistband of my jeans. He began tugging them down, muttering at how tight they were as he worked. “If you fucking thought wearing these fucking pants was going to somehow fucking deter your punishment, sweetheart, I think you’re gonna be fucking upset. Cause it’s increasing the fucking shit, right now.” Fuck. “What the fuck are these?” Oh, the boy shorts. “Princess, where the fuck did you get these fucking things?” His fingers snapped the elastic silk of the panties.

“I don’t know, some store.” I truly had no fucking clue. They were basically toss away period pants if I had to be honest.

“They’re ridiculous too.” He was irritated and only getting more so as he tugged and pulled the jeans down. “These fucking things should be in the goddamn trash. If I didn’t want to murder anyone who might see your naked ass, I’d rip the fuckers off and toss them myself.” Don’t tell him you have a spare set of clothes, don’t tell him, even if that sounded hot as fuck.

I bit my lip when his hands and my jeans and panties met my ankles. The light air against my naked bottom half felt weird, and weirder still when he tossed my dad’s jersey out of his way. “Where the fuck did you get this?” Shit, wasn’t he just fucking curious all over this morning.

“It’s my dad’s.” I answered, and he grunted. “Should I chuck it in the fire, too?”

“Sir.” He corrected. Shit. He was serious.

“Sir?” I asked, hoping that he wasn’t going to go full on Eric’s greatest wet dream ever on me.

“That’s right, Amara. Sir.” I nodded my understanding. “You understand that you asked for this, don’t you, princess?” I nodded again. “Words, Amara.”

“Yes, sir.” I answered, and felt myself get a bit damper. Shit. “I asked for this because I didn’t answer you yesterday, sir.” Fuck if this wasn’t the best fucking bad thing I’d ever done.

“Good girl.” Shit, my stomach clenched at the praise. “Now, since it’s your first infraction, I’m not gonna go too hard on you, but remember this, princess, so you don’t have to experience it again.” Yeah, right.

Spanky the paddle was right beside me, but he didn’t pick it up. Instead, I felt his hand smooth down the skin of my ass and bit my lip. Guess old Spanky was just a fucking prop, I thought, right as Negan brought his hand down full force on my ass. Fuck. I nearly jumped off the desk from the sting. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Count, princess, you’re getting fifteen.” Fuck was that his favorite fucking number?

“One, sir.” Fuck fuck fuck. And then another smack. And I counted. Each and every fucking one, from one to fifteen. Shit. I could feel the sting and burn. I knew that those fucking jeans were going to constitute as more fucking torture. I was also so wet that all I could possibly wish to take my mind off the literal flames of my burning skin was for Negan to bury himself deep inside of me and take care of my other pain.

“Pull up your pants, Amara.” WHAT? I shot him a look of disbelief over my shoulder. “It’s a punishment, princess.”

No fucking shit. Fuck. I stood carefully and bent over to grab my panties. Shit, this was gonna suck. I took my sweet time tugging the thin silky fabric over my burning ass. OUCH. I let them settle on my no doubt flaming red skin, then reached down for the jeans. This took far more time. More time than it took him to get them down my legs. More time that it took to put them on earlier at my house. I bit my lip and closed my eyes as the denim brushed my ass, even with the slight barrier of those fucking boy short panties. OUCH. Damn it. Once they were up, I buttoned them and zipped up.

When I turned to face Negan, I realized I wasn’t the only one who had enjoyed at least part of my punishment. Without waiting for instruction, I carefully got to my knees. What the hell, why not go full throttle submission? Looking up at him, I tugged his track pants down his hips and careful of his obvious need, I settled them on top of his shoes around his ankles. I watched his face as I rose up higher onto my knees and licked his hard shaft from tip to bottom. Nothing, just watched me. No words, no touch. Just his eyes on me. Well shit. Opening my mouth, I took him inside, using my tongue and then adding my hand for good measure.

Finally after the fourth bob of my head, I felt it. His hips thrusting ever so slightly forward. I worked harder and was rewarded by his hands sliding under my ponytail. And as he finally got into the swing of things, so to speak, his fucking mouth kicked into gear.

“That’s right, princess, take my cock, just fucking like that.” He pushed a bit too far and I gagged, again thankful that I’d had no breakfast. “Take it, sweetheart, take it.” And I swallowed my saliva and him, by fucking accident. Shit. “Oh fuck,” he moaned, and then, like I wasn’t entirely prepared for, he came. Down my fucking throat. That he was down because of a fucking accident.

It was swallow or choke so swallow I did. He started to go limp, but I waited, just as I always did when we finished having sex. And, just like during our normal fuckings, he helped me up and cleaned me up. My face this time. Tugging on my ponytail, he smiled down at me.

“Do you still want to go to the fucking dance?” He asked, but the heat of his anger was almost gone from his voice.

“Yeah, I do.” I answered, leaning against the desk and then hissing at the feeling of burning pain. Shit. “Damn it.” He grinned at me. Oh, sure, you can sit down, fucker.

His fingers brushed my errant bangs away. “Fine.” Was that permission? “I’ll go let Turtle Jones know I’m in for fucking chaperone duty.” Shit was he serious?

“Negan,” I began, but he brushed his lips against mine.

He shook his head when he pulled away. “This is non-negotiable, Amara. You go, I go.” Shit, fuck, shit. “Now get going, class is starting in ten minutes.” Shit. I grabbed my bag and the cap, and as I moved to pass him, he swatted me on my ass. FUCK. “Have a good day, princess.” OUCH.

#negan x ofc #coach negan x student #The Walking Dead #Smut #spank #punishment

41 notes · View notes