most valuable player // irwin
Every girl on Ridgewood High School's varsity lacrosse team was virtually obsessed with the coach; Ashton Irwin. She couldn't deny the fact that the twenty-eight year old was extremely attractive, but she didn't spend years perfecting her cradling technique to show off in front of him. Besides, unlike the other hormonal teenage girls on the team, she was closer to him on a friendlier level. Sure, there was the harmless flirting that made everyone question their relationship, but she saw him as nothing more than her friend, her coach.
“Oh God, he got a new haircut.” She heard one of the girls whisper excitedly to her friend. The locker room was buzzing with activity, ninety percent of the girls gushing over their coach's new haircut, the other nine percent ardently discussing the upcoming English finals, while she was focused on tying her net. She was still in her sports bra and spandex shorts when the rest of the team emptied the locker room. It wasn't her fault that she was a few minutes late to practice; she would have been on time if her creepy excuse of a biology teacher didn't decide to hold her hostage in last period. Nonetheless, she slipped on her cleats, tied a few quick knots in her net, before reaching over on the bench to grab her jersey. A shadow lingered over her causing her to freeze, especially when she noticed the broadness in the stature of the silhouette.
“I see you haven't complimented my new haircut doll,” the deep voice bellowed. She first noticed his Nike trainers, his basketball shorts that always hung dangerously low on his hips, and then that tank top that revealed his toned arms, and parts of his chest. She nearly cowered in her sitting position, pulling her jersey to cover her exposed torso. She looked up at him, a smirk etching across his lips, and she scoffed, standing up to slip on her jersey.
“What are you doing in here?” She asked, finally pulling the fabric down her body. His eyes watched her hands intently, staring at them as she placed them on her hips. He licked his lips subtly, bringing his eyes back up to meet hers.
“Wondering what was taking you so long, I had to make sure you didn't skip practice.” She rolled her eyes at his stupid excuse. She knew that at times he could be a little too forward with her, a little too comfortable, but honestly it didn't bother her; it's not like he was intentionally hitting on her, it was just apart of his demeanor.
“As if. What would those idiots do without me on the field? It was just Mr. Gregg holding me up in biology last period.” She said with an eye roll, grabbing her lacrosse stick and exiting out of the locker room's double doors, him following close behind her.
“I don't know if that's cockiness or confidence I hear in your tone, but I'm pretty sure he has developed a crush on you,” he said with a slight chuckle. He held the gym door open for her as they walked out towards the field. He discreetly checked her out in those tight Nike spandex shorts she always wore to practice, which stopped at her mid-thigh. They weren't as short as the shorts the other girls on the team wore, which could have been classified as underwear by how small they were, but they still caught his attention, even more in fact.
“Now you know me well enough to know that was complete and utter cockiness,” a smirk playing across her plump lips. She ignored his comment about her biology teacher and walked out onto the field, switching her hips a little harder than she should have, just to get the slightest reaction out of him. The harmless flirting, as she described it to her friends, but in everyone else's eyes, it seemed to be much, much more.
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One hour into practice and her brow was coated with sweat. Her legs glistening in the sun and her jersey clung to her body as she sprinted around the field. Usually, she didn't mind running around the boiling hot field doing what she loved, but today, practice seemed almost tedious. With the other girls acting like complete idiots on the field, too busy gawking at him, and he was far too busy feeding into their flirtatious antics, which made her angry. She wanted to define it as anger, for everyone on the field wasting her time being useless morons taking up space on the field that she could be using for practice, when in actuality, she was jealous. Jealous at the fact he was paying more attention to those attention seeking whores, than to her.
She watched as the stupid red-head, whose name always seemed to slip her mind, send him a flirty wave from across the field, and he silently responded with a bright smile and a wink, which couldn't have been taken in a friendly manner. She growled almost, getting into her starting position, awaiting the blow of the whistle to resume their scrimmage game. The red-head flipped her long braid over her shoulder, catching the ball when her teammate passed it to her. She seemed to skip merrily along the field, constantly taking long glances at him from his place next to the bleachers. This enraged her, and she seized the moment while she paraded around like an idiot. Her shoulder collided violently into the girl's chest, sending her, her stick, and the ball flying. She landed on the ground, and she was sure she had knocked the wind out of the poor girl's chest. In all honesty, she didn't care, and smirked at her while she lie helplessly on the ground, clutching her chest, coughing, and sobbing simultaneously. Only moments later, the whistle sounded several times, and the team gathered around her on the ground. He jogged over to the group, grabbing her arm roughly and dragging her over to the bleachers.
“Last time I checked, this was girl's lacrosse, and that move is completely illegal in this sport, and would've cost us the game.” She snatched her arm out of his grasp, flinging off her mask and removing her mouth piece. She didn't respond to him, crossing her arms over her chest and avoided his deep gaze. She felt like a child, who was getting scolded for hitting someone with her Barbie doll.
“I'll deal with you later,” and that's when the realization had set in; she had basically demolished the red-head on the field for simply looking at him with heart eyes. He had never gotten mad at her before, and she could tell by the angry scowl on his face, he was fuming. She prayed that practice would take forever to end, because she had now grown too afraid to face him in his office. What if she got kicked off of the team? Completely ruining her chances of getting a scholarship to UCB, or even worse. Before she knew it, the whistle had blown, signaling the end of practice. The girls filed back into the locker room, him following behind them, and they all glanced at her shamefully as they walked past. She waited a few minutes before proceeding into the now empty locker room, and the gym door slammed closed, echoing off the walls.
“Get in here. Now.” His voice sounded throughout the room, and she silently gulped. She entered his office, gripping the ends of her jersey in her sweaty hands as she sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk. He hadn't even looked up at her yet, and she was slightly grateful at the fact.
“Ash, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hit her so-,” his head snapped up, and she closed her mouth. She sat completely still as his golden eyes bore into hers, and he chuckled darkly.
“It's coach to you right now.” She gulped, fiddling with her fingers as she stared down into her lap. “Now, I'm only going to ask you once sweetheart... Why did you hit her?” His question echoed throughout her mind, and for a second she had contemplated on lying to him, something she wasn't too keen on doing, but would in order to save herself. That was until he gave her a stern look, which silently said, “I dare you to lie to me.” So, despite her hesitation, she proceeded to mumble her response to him.
“I got upset.” She mumbled, making sure her gaze was directed anywhere but on him. He got up and stood before her, leaning against his desk as he stared down at her. He moved closer to her, inches away from her, and she nearly choked on air from the close proximity.
“I didn't hear you sweetheart.” He almost whispered, his minty breath now fanning her face.
“I got upset.” She said slightly louder as she looked down at the floor. He grabbed her chin between his fingers, making her look at him. It wasn't rough, but forceful, authoritative, and she couldn't understand why she liked the feeling, but she also couldn't deny it, no matter how much she wanted to.
“You were jealous,” he said, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “You were jealous and you know it. You've always been jealous. Tell me I'm wrong.” At that point, her mind couldn't generate a proper sentence, or any words at all, and all she could do was stutter uncontrollably, but in order to save herself from further embarrassment, she remained silent. He raised an eyebrow at her silence, a devilish smirk on his face.
“Tell me you don't feel anything for me. Deny it all you want.” He was now centimeters away from her face, and her eyes frantically switched from looking into his hazel orbs, then back down at his full lips. Her face was hot, and that all too familiar tingle began to bounce around her stomach. That feeling she always got when they were together, the feeling she always tried to ignore. Now, he was forcing her to feel it, and she couldn't have been more afraid.
A silence fell over the room, and they remained in their positions. His thumb softly stroked her chin, and they stared deeply at each other, neither of them daring to look away. Before she had time to contemplate the situation, his lips had landed feverishly against hers. Her eyes widened for a moment, before fluttering closed at the sensation. He was kissing her, a moment she had secretly dreamed of.
“What are you doing?” She muttered against his lips when they had pulled away for air, and all he did was smile in return. His strong arms wrapped around her waist, dragging her out of the chair. He lifted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, and he placed her on top of his metal desk, knocking over the objects sitting on it.
“What we have both wanted...” he whispers against her skin while he places open-mouthed kisses on her neck. “For a long time.” His hands had snaked their way up her jersey, and the coolness of his fingertips against her hot skin made chills run up her spine. He pulled the article of clothing from over her head, flinging it onto the floor, and turning back to stare at her as she sat on his desk in nothing but a razorback sports bra and spandex shorts. He gripped her thighs harshly, quickly pulling her body closer to his. She could feel the growing bulge in his basketball shorts rubbing against her, and she released a soft moan from the contact, which only caused him to smirk and continue his actions. He ground into her while nibbling at the soft skin on her neck, leaving deep, purple bruises in very visible areas. She kicked off her cleats, and tugged at the hem of his tank, before running her hands over the smooth skin of his lower abdomen. He pulled off his shirt moments later, her eyes wandering over his nude torso, which was just as beautiful as she imagined; the subtle firmness of his abs only added to her infatuation.
Now, there was no holding back. She laid back on his desk, her body completely exposed to him, not that he minded. Her skin, smooth like silk, curves that accentuated every angle of her body and only added to her gracefulness. His large hands grazed over her breasts, tingles rising throughout her body as her nipples hardened from the contact. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, his gaze never leaving hers as he hastily tugged off her spandex shorts. In the rush, he also slipped off her black boy shorts, her core now on display for his greedy eyes. He slipped his long fingers between her folds, collecting her wetness on his fingertips. She licked her lips seductively, pulling down his basketball shorts. His hard-on was now completely visible, but just as quickly as she pulled off his shorts, she also pulled off his boxers. She gasped at his impressive size, wondering how she would be able to handle such girth. Nonetheless, he gently spread her legs, planting a wet kiss on her lips. She pulled him closer to her, slipping her tongue into his mouth as they battled for dominance. He aligned himself with her entrance, barely giving her time to process what was happening before he pushed himself inside of her. She gasped, biting down on her lip as he picked up a slow but steady pace.
He stretched her at first, but maintained a slow pace to ease the slight discomfort she was experiencing. He was having a hard time controlling herself, her wet walls so enticing, he couldn’t help but to release a small moan from the pleasure rising through his veins. She moved her hips against his, attempting to send his signals to him to increase the speed of his strokes. He gripped her thighs tightly, beginning to pound into her, causing them to both moan simultaneously. She clawed at his back, most likely leaving scratches on her coach’s shoulders, but he could’ve cared less. He was probably leaving equally deep bruises on the tender skin of her thighs from how tightly he was gripping them.
The metal desk creaked as he thrusted into her, rocking against it. The noises only grew louder as he thrusted faster, causing her to nearly scream out from the pleasure. She pushed her hips against his, timing every one of his strokes so that she could feel every inch of him inside of her. He pulled onto her calf, raising it higher onto his waist so that he could reach new depths inside of her. The new angle sending chills up her spine, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as he drilled her.
“Fuck, Ash,” she groaned, falling back against the desk as he continued to finish her. His ultimate goal now was her orgasm, and he wouldn’t stop until she reached it. He pulled her closer to him, forcing her to slide across the desk. He flipped her around, his length slipping out of her from the transition. She whimpered from the loss of contact, but he slammed back into her just as quickly. Her ass bounced against him, the view being completely perfect from behind her. He gripped onto her hips tightly, the sounds of skin slapping and her moans and his equally loud groans filling the office space.
She threw her head back against his shoulder, grinding against him with the same speed he was delivering towards her. Her legs shook with every thrust he delivered to her, the pleasure being more than she could handle. He could feel her walls clenching around his shaft, biting down on her neck, leaving a deep bruise most likely, from the sensation. Sweat dripped off of their bodies, her moans only increasing in volume by the second.
“I’m going to cum!” She whimpered, and he only moaned back in response, doing the impossible and increasing the speed of his thrusts even more. His hand snaked around waist, reaching down to toy with her already overly sensitive bundle of nerves. Her legs shook violently, every fiber in her being causing her to screech out in pleasure.
“FUCK!” She collapsed against the desk, barely being able to catch her breath. He delivered three more harsh thrusts inside of her, pulling out quickly to cum on her back. She looked behind her, using her jersey to wipe off the sticky white substance she was covered in. She pulled on her underwear and spandex shorts, slipping on her bra as well, plopping down on his lap, completely exhausted.
“That was amazing, just like I always imagined.” She giggled at his statement, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. “Now, the only thing there is left to do is take you out to dinner.” He said, his greenish-brown eyes boring into hers. She bit down on her lip nervously, scared of what might happen if they were ever seen out in public together since he was still her lacrosse coach.
“I hope you like spaghetti, I make some pretty good spaghetti.” He said with a smile, dimples piercing his cheeks as he did so. She nodded in response, walking back out into the locker room, opening her locker and searching for a clean shirt in her duffel bag. While slipping on her shirt, he snaked his arms around her waist, planting kisses along her neck.
“Friday night, I’ll be sure to text you my address. Then maybe, I can have you for dessert.”
