The Chaperone Blues

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Chapter Seven

Five minutes later Claire and Chuck were walking side by side. Having visited the manager, they were approaching room 203 with key in hand. They were about ten feet away when the door burst open. Tiffany Jewell and Ramona Hodgkin’s dashed out to come face to face with the Coach and Claire. Both were dressed in their cheerleading uniforms. The hem of Ramona's skirt was caught in the back where it had obviously been accidentally tucked inside her panties. There was something glistening running down Tiffany's right inner thigh.

"Stop right there," ordered Coach in his coach's voice.

"We were just getting some towels," babbled Ramona.

"Really?" asked Claire, feeling bad for just having done exactly what these two girls had done, and now having to catch them at it. "Where are they?"

Both girls looked at their empty hands, like somebody had told them hair would grow on their palms if they masturbated and they were checking to see if it was true.

"Wait right over there." Chuck pointed to the front window.

The door had closed behind the girls with a sharp slam and Chuck keyed it open, swinging it wide. Claire followed him inside.

Three of the boys were in bed, covers up to their chins. Frank Zeeliff was sitting on a chair, trying to put shoes on. He had lipstick all over his face.

Frank looked up, his eyes wide. "Hey coach," he said weakly. "What's up?"

"What are you guys doing in here?" asked Chuck.

Danny Pruett said, from bed. "We're trying to sleep, coach ... like you said."

Chuck moved to the bed, reached down and whipped the covers off. Danny's limp prick lay in a spermy mess that soaked his pubes and balls. Claire stared before Danny covered his genitals with his hands. He didn't say anything.

Chuck turned to the other bed, which had two boys in it. They were clutching the covers under their chins so tightly their knuckles were white.

"Do I have to show Mrs. Richardson what you two look like too?" he asked.

"No coach," they both intoned. "You got us," said George Caddy.

There was a noise from the bathroom.

Coach looked and said "I suppose the other two are in there?"

He got four blank stares back.

Chuck nodded to Claire and she went to the bathroom door, which was locked. She knocked and ordered "Open up ... Sex Police!" Then she giggled. She turned around and wiped the smile off her face as Chuck shook his head sadly.

"Sorry," she mumbled. She turned back to the door and pounded on it.

It opened and two more cheerleaders came out. They were fully dressed, but in their hurry to get that way, each had grabbed some wrong uniform items. One of them was a busty girl about five feet ten, and the other was lucky if she was five feet tall. The big one had grabbed a sweater top that, once she got on, was so tight she couldn't pull it off again. Her partner had been forced to wear the larger girl's sweater top, and it almost looked like a dress on her. The tall one had a wad of tissue paper in her hand.

Claire held her hand out. "May I see that please?"

The girl's hand ... and the tissue, vanished behind her back.

There was a bra lying on the floor between one of the beds and a wall. Claire pointed at it.

"Whose is that?"

The tall girl looked and then bent over automatically to pickup the bra and Claire darted her hand to snatch the tissue out of the hand that was still behind her back.

It was a spermy mess. Claire held it up and nodded to Chuck.

Chuck knew what he had to do. He didn't feel good about it. He didn't feel guilty at all about what he and Claire had done. They were adults. But he had sanctioned what Bobby and Lori had done, and now he was going to have to punish these kids. He tried to take a little comfort in the fact that Lori and Bobby's parent had also sanctioned what had happened. But if left a bad taste in his mouth.

"You four are benched," he pronounced.

There were four groans of complaint.

"Come on Coach, we were just having a little fun," whined Frank.

"Your fun doesn't appear to have involved any condoms Frank," said Chuck heavily. What am I going to tell the parents if any of these girls show up pregnant?"

"They won't coach," said Danny. "They all used suppositories."

Well, a good spermicidal might help a little, but still, the rules had been broken. What was more important, at least publicly, was that the eight had been caught.

It turned out that Charlie HAD come knocking on the door, telling them that Coach was coming. But the boys hadn't believed it. There was still over an hour until bed check.

It was the girls who wanted to stop, but all four boys had been trying, on a bet, to cum at the same time. They had insisted that Charlie was just jealous and that nothing would happen.

By the time things had settled back down Claire no longer felt guilty. All four of the girls were simpering idiots. Tiffany had convinced them that the big suppositories would protect them from pregnancy, so they had gone along with the crazy scheme. Claire had been using the same kind of birth control when she got pregnant with Lori.

"You have to tell your parents what happened," she told the girls once she had them huddled together outside the room. "If you don't, we have to. In fact, we have to anyway. You can tell them yourselves, and when we contact them they'll already know and tell us they know. But, when we tell them we're going to tell them that you were told to inform them. So you may as well do it yourselves. If you're going to try to act adult, you also have to take responsibility for what you choose to do."

None of the girls liked that idea, but they were left with little choice. They left for their rooms, heads down, feet dragging.

On the way back to the room Claire spoke. "You know, if they can't do it ... we really shouldn't do it either."

He looked at her. "Ever again?"

"No silly" She blushed at the hurt in his voice. It made her feel good. "Just while we're here. I think my dating life is going to improve when we get back home."

"Yes it is. OK, I'm with you," he said.

When they got to the room the kids were dressed and watching TV.

Claire explained what had happened, and what decision had been made because of what had happened.

"That means you two too," she said.

Surprisingly, both teens just nodded their assent. They knew what was likely to happen without those four players, and it sobered them.

Chuck and Claire presided over a very quiet bed check that night. The news had spread. The night passed uneventfully, though all of them had a hard time getting to sleep and talked for several hours into the night in the darkened room.

The next day the four players suited up, but sat on the bench. The four cheerleaders were also benched, but they wore civilian clothing so they wouldn't stand out in the crowd.

The first half went as expected, and the team was twenty-one points behind at the half. Parents who had come to see the game, driving for hours, began to approach Chuck and demand to know why four of his best players weren't in the game. Two sets of those parents were Frank's and Danny's.

It almost got ugly. First Frank's father tried to play it all down, but Chuck insisted that rules were rules. Then Mr. Zeliff demanded to know why he wasn't called and notified when the ... infraction ... had been discovered. Chuck explained that the kids had been given the option of telling their parents first. The two men began to bluster, but their wives, thinking, no doubt about what the parents of the girls involved would say when THEY found out what had happened, pulled their husbands away forcefully.

It should have been a slaughter.

But Chuck found out that if you take four second and third stringers, who were motivated by the fear of public humiliation, they played a lot better than he thought they would. The rest of the team knew their honor was on the line too, and even though they started the game down and angry that the coach wouldn't let their friends play, by halftime they knew they'd have to deal with it or lose.

Claire never found out what Chuck told them in the locker room. She heard that all four boys apologized for putting the game at risk and demanded that their replacements be given every opportunity to succeed. And, in the second half, the team bounced back. They were, for the most part, a passing team, but they employed the run more than half the time in the second half. Charlie, sure that he'd be killed if he were tackled by the opposing linemen, decided that dancing and twisting his way OUT of those tackles was the way to go. He had a talent for it too, that he'd never known before. The first time he scored a touchdown, it was on a thirty-five yard run that caused him to have to leave the field after it was over. He had almost peed his pants and was so weak he just ran off the field. He regained a significant measure of aplomb when he was attacked by elated teammates who pummeled him and shouted insanely.

Another boy, a second string running back was smaller than Danny had probably ever been, and the holes the line opened for him seemed big enough to drive a truck through. He carried the ball twelve times and always got at least eight yards on each carry. On one carry he was finally brought down at the one yard line.

In the end, they lost, but it was only by two points. Oddly, compared to what they had thought would happen, the team was upbeat about it. They had discovered that they'd have a decent team the next year, and that teamwork paid off. It was a valuable lesson.

Chuck took a lot of heat from school officials, though, instigated primarily by Frank Zeliff's father, who demanded that Chuck be disciplined for "losing control of the team" and for having "insufficient chaperones to adequately supervise the students." He made his demand at a school board meeting. No one had mentioned in public why the four boys were benched. All Chuck had said to the Mr. Black, the principal, was that they broke non-negotiable rules.

So, when put against the wall at the school board meeting, Chuck stood up and said "I made rules. It doesn't matter what they were. All that matters is that they were broken and the kids knew what would happen if I found out they were broken. I stand by my decision."

A school board member, a friend of Tom Zeliff, who had brought the complaint, asked "Mr. Bondurant, what rule exactly was broken?"

Tom Zeliff started waving, trying to get his friend to withdraw the question, but the man didn't see him. He thrust his chin forward belligerently.

Chuck looked at Mr. Zeliff, who tried to wave him off too. But by then he was pissed that this whole thing had been blown out of proportion.

"The players were caught ... being involved sexually ... with four of the cheerleaders," he stated flatly.

When the pandemonium died down - and that took a while - the board members wanted to know all the salacious details. Chuck wouldn't tell them. He said that information had been given to the parents involved, and that, as far as he was concerned, it was in their hands. If THEY wanted to make the details public, then THEY could, but HE wasn't going to.

Then he sat down.

The board members wouldn't drop it, though. They were under the impression that, since they were elected officials, they had some kind of right to know about the details of the allegations. When Chuck wouldn't tell them, then they demanded that, since a decision had to be made concerning whether or not the kids would be suspended or expelled from school, they had to know the details.

Chuck stated that, since they were not actually school officials, and couldn't suspend or expel anyone, it would be a violation of the kids' privacy to tell them what had happened.

One board member, Paul Stevenson, stood up. "Mr. Bondurant, who were the girls involved in this incident?"

At this point only Frank Zeliff had been identified to the public at large, and then only because his father had decided to try to throw his weight around. Those who had been at the game knew which players had been benched, and a few officials in the school knew. But Chuck had told no one who the girls were. The team knew, and the cheerleaders all knew, of course, but they had closed ranks upon returning to the school and finding themselves in the limelight.

"The girls parents have been notified. I don't believe the names of the girls are pertinent to the issue in this meeting, mister Stevenson," said Chuck.

"I don't believe you want to keep your job Mr. Bondurant," said Stevenson.

"That's the first thing you've said all night that I agreed with," said Chuck. And he got up and walked out.

The news flew like wildfire through the community. Coach Bondurant had caught kids having sex! Of course everyone in town knew that kids had sex, so that wasn't odd. But the Coach wouldn't give the names publicly, and that was something the gossip mongers just couldn't resist. The boys' names were assumed, of course, because people at the game had seen them sitting on the bench. Rumors flew and everybody was unhappy. Parents grilled their kids, but the kids all decided that the adults were being nosey and stayed clammed up.

Mr. Black explained to Chuck that, by contract, he had to stay the rest of the school year, and couldn't just walk out. Chuck agreed, but stated that if he started getting hassled by the school board, or began to get "disciplined" for stupid things, he'd leave and they could sue him if they wanted to. Since Mr. Black knew the names of the kids involved, and agreed with Chuck that their situation should be handled by the parents, he agreed. He was also under a lot of pressure, except that no one knew that he actually knew the names.

Thankfully, even with all the noses poking into his business, Chuck was relieved that no one seemed to have found out that he had stayed in a room with a female chaperone. That would have blown the lid off things even more.

Back at home Bobby, Lori and Claire tried to settle back into what had been routine before the trip. It was impossible. As Claire lay in her bed she couldn't help but wonder what her children were doing. Her bed suddenly seemed too big ... and too empty. Every night she reminded herself to get Lori to the Doctor to get a prescription for the pill. Every morning she lost herself in work and forgot.

Lori never reminded her.

Claire was bent over her desk working on several files when a shadow fell across her desk. She looked up irritably. Nancy, her secretary, knew she didn't want to be interrupted and should have called her first.

Chuck was standing at her desk, a half smile on his face.

"Hi, I just thought I'd come in and check on my loan," he said.

Claire sat back and watched his eyes drop to her chest before coming back up to her face.

"Your loan was final a month ago," she said. "We cut you the check and it was cashed. I checked."

"My, my, no sense of humor at all today," he said, that maddening grin coming to his face. "You need to eat something ... get your blood sugar up. You'd feel better," he said. "All work and no play can make a girl cranky."

"This is a fine time to suggest ... play," she said, her mood lightening.

"Kids still get recess at lunchtime. Why shouldn't we?" he smiled.

"So, where do you want to eat lunch?" asked Claire. His eyes were so brown and deep.

"I figured what with you having two teenagers and all, you're bound to have a jar of peanut butter and loaf of bread," he said.

"My house?" she said meekly. She knew exactly what would happen if she got him alone at her house.

"I don't have any peanut butter at my house," he said.

Claire felt herself melting inside. She hadn't done this for years. The prospect of having him pressing her to the bed again suddenly made her pussy so wet she was afraid she'd leave a spot on her chair.

"Come on," she said, rising quickly. She forced herself not to look at the chair. On her way out she said "Nancy, I'm going to lunch. I don't know when I'll be back."

Nancy, who had told Chuck that Ms. Richardson didn't wish to be disturbed, had been disarmed by his grin and his statement that he'd take all the blame if she got mad. She looked at her boss with wide eyes. She could see that Claire was ... agitated.

"Is everything OK?" she asked.

Claire waved a hand hurriedly. She was afraid Nancy would smell her arousal. "Fine ... it's just lunch."

Chuck grinned and mouthed "Thanks," to the secretary.

Nancy, who knew her boss pretty well after three years, sat back in her chair. Could it be that the Ice Queen was beginning to thaw?

When they got to the house Claire led Chuck up to the door and fumbled with the keys. She got inside and was so agitated she couldn't turn around and face him. She couldn't believe what he did to her self control.

"Claire?" he said softly.

"What?" she said, looking down at the floor.

"Are you OK with this?" he asked, coming up behind her. He placed his hands gently on her hips. "I don't want to push you into anything."

"Oh, you're not pushing me anywhere," she sighed leaning back against him. "I'm just helpless when I'm around you."

His hands slid around to her front and up to cup her breasts. His lips were at her ear. "Good," he said. "I'm not hungry for peanut butter sandwiches any more. Where's your bedroom?"

Her hands had come to cover his, pressing them to her breasts, and she was breathless as she took one hand and pulled him to her bedroom. Once there she was able to turn and face him.

"I needed you so badly," she moaned. "But you haven't called since we got back."

"I wanted you to have some time to think," he said.

"I was afraid you thought we were all perverts," she sighed.

"I see two kids who love each other," he said, unbuttoning his shirt. "I see a boy who loves his mother." He started on his pants. "I see a woman I love and can't do without, whether she loves her son differently than society approves of or not."

"We haven't done anything," objected Claire.

"I don't want to share you with him," said Chuck, baring his stiff prick and making Claire's breath catch in her throat. She was still completely dressed. "But I will if I have to."

Claire felt dizzy. She had tried not to think about how Bobby felt about her, and had forbidden herself to think about how she might react if she were naked with her own son. When that happened she thought of Chuck and masturbated with her eyes tightly closed.

"I need you now," she gasped.

"For a woman who needs me so badly, you sure are overdressed," he chided. He came to her and began to unbutton her white silk blouse. Her hands scrabbled and buttons flew. Her bra opened in the front and it flopped apart as she released it. His fingers had unzipped the short zipper of her gray wool skirt and she pushed it down hurriedly. Today she had worn a garter belt instead of panty hose, but her panties were under it. She pushed at her panties unsuccessfully and whimpered with frustration.

"Leave them," said Chuck, pushing her to the bed. "I'll take care of them."

He pushed her down on the bed and she writhed, wanting to feel his weight on her. His hands went to her thighs and she raised her hips to let him take her panties off. Instead, he pulled them aside and burrowed his face into her wet pussy.

She had never done this before. Denny refused to put his mouth on her sex ... had basically refused to do anything other than take her missionary style. The feeling of his tongue in her slot made her face hot and she was afraid she'd burst a blood vessel. She let out an agonized groan as his tongue stabbed into her sex and then his lips found and sucked in her clit.

"Ohhhh you're killing meeeeeee" she moaned, her head turning from side to side.

He stopped and her head came up off the bed in panic. "OH Don't stop! Please don't stop," she pleaded.

"More later," he said, fisting his cock and crawling up to nestle it into her slot. "But now let's do this."

He pushed, the side of his cock scraping along her panties where they had been pushed aside. Always before he'd been an ardent and almost violent lover. But this time he inched into Claire, staring into her eyes. As he seated himself in her he said "I love you Claire Richardson."

Claire's emotions overcame her and she bawled, grabbing at him and pulling him to her, her hands on his ass, gripping and pulling fiercely. She sobbed, but her actions made it clear what she wanted and he began to rod her pussy with long, strong strokes. They thrashed together, straining and thrusting against each other, their kisses sloppy. Claire's makeup smeared and ran but, had she been able to see it she wouldn't have cared at that point. She ached to feel her release and when it came she sobbed again, surrendering to the feeling of being in love again, her pussy clasping and gripping the penis of the man she loved. And, when he groaned and she felt his cock swell and spurt, the hot liquid she could feel splashing in her was something she knew she'd crave. At that precise point she also decided she wouldn't go see the doctor after all. She wanted this man's seed to take root in her, and to grow into a baby they could raise. She didn't care if he married her or not ... if they lived together or not ... she just wanted a piece of this man with her forever.

When they collapsed, both gasping for breath, he murmured the words in her ear again, wonderingly, as if he were surprised himself at the emotion in his voice. "I love you."

It had happened so quickly that, when she looked at her watch, Claire realized only ten minutes had passed. She told him so. "We have time to go again," she said hopefully.

He smiled at her, but then frowned. "I have to talk to you about something."

There was something in his voice that made Claire's inner self take a figurative breath to scream in anguish. It was the unspoken sound of a man saying goodbye to a woman and she wanted to put her hands over her ears.

"You're leaving," she gasped.

He sat up, surprise across his face. "Who told you?" he asked.

His confirmation of her fear cut through her like a rusty saber, tearing her heart. She began to cry again, but this time it wasn't from joy.

Chuck rolled toward her and held her. "No ... don't cry ... Claire? ... I got a job offer," he said.

She had known deep inside her that his tenure at Hillsdale High was numbered in mere months. The fiasco at the school board meeting had assured that. But she'd tried to push that out of her mind, hoping against hope that things would work out.

Chuck cupped her chin. "Claire, it's not like I'm leaving tomorrow. And it doesn't have to be the end for us."

"Why" she sobbed. "Where is this job offer?"

"Southeast State wants me to coach their football team. Head Coach, Claire."

Southeast State had just had their first miserable season after several years of winning game after game, beating schools that were much bigger than they were. This whole end of the State was proud of them and almost everybody had the colors of the Southeast State Tigers on their car, or flying from their flag pole, or even painted on the curb with their address numbers. But their coach of some nineteen years had announced he was going to retire at the end of the season. He had thought it would spur his team to win one last season for him, but, instead, they were demoralized and lost all but two games.

But they had the talent to win. What they needed was a coach to put the heart back in them. It was a wonderful opportunity for someone like Chuck, and Claire knew it. But Southeast State was in Carrolton.

"That's a hundred and fifty miles away," she whined.

"A mere three hour drive," he said, cupping one of her breasts.

"You'll be surrounded by all those college girls, with their firm round asses and those impossibly firm tits," she moaned. "You won't even want to think about an old hag like me."

He pinched one nipple - hard - and Claire yelped and sat up, batting his hand away.

"What'd you do that for?" she groused, rubbing the offended nipple.

"I was trying to bring you back to your senses," he said. "If you have any left."

"But it's so far away," she pointed out. "And you'll be busy coaching. I know how much time you spend with High School boys. I can only imagine it will be longer with that team. Especially when they start winning again."

He grinned. "I'm please you have faith in my abilities. Now, just find a way to have faith in my love for you. We'll figure something out. I can't in good conscience ask you to quit your job and marry me, because while this is a plum, the pay's not all that magnificent. And I assume Bobby and Lori are planning on college, so it wouldn't be fair to them to ask you to do that either. But we'll figure out something. OK?"

Claire wanted to believe that he was right, that things would work out. She hugged him fiercely, which led to kisses, which led to groping, which led to Claire climbing on top of him and riding him, holding her hands on his muscular chest, forcing him to let her have two more orgasms before she said he could cum in her again. The look in his eyes as he watched her use his prick convinced her that he really did love her.

Later, when she looked in the mirror in the bathroom, she almost screamed. Her mascara had run, making her look like a KISS groupie. Her lipstick was smeared, her rouge was brown and pasty looking. Her hair looked like rats had nested in it for years. She made such sounds that Chuck came into the bathroom to see what was wrong.

"What's WRONG?" she shouted. "I look HIDEOUS! That's what's wrong!"

"What are you talking about. You're gorgeous," he said. He reached around her to cup her breasts again and gave them a squeeze. "You're so gorgeous I want to go again. OK? HMM? One more time?"

His antics got her laughing and his attitude about her appearance, more than anything else he'd said or done, convinced her that he really did love her. If he could act that way when she looked like a Titanic survivor ... he really loved her.

Because of the time it took her to repair her makeup and hair, Claire didn't walk back into her office until an hour and a half after she'd left. Since Claire usually didn't take lunch at all, unless it was with a client, Nancy paid particularly close attention to how she looked. There were little telltale signs. There were a few wrinkles in the blouse, because it had lain on the floor instead of having been hung up. Her hair had been changed slightly, as if it had required an extensive brushing. She was wearing a different color of lipstick than she had been when she left. But most obvious of all was her relaxed posture, the confident way she walked and the smile on her face. Claire Richardson had the look of a well-fucked woman.

Nancy was thrilled. While Claire was gone she'd made a friendly bet with Shirley, over in accounting, and stood to make some mad-money if she could find a way to get Claire to admit she'd been laid over lunch. It was the look in that hunky man's eyes when he led Claire away that had convinced Nancy to find Shirley and make the bet.

Nancy followed Claire into her office and waited until she'd sat down.

"Yes Nancy?" said Claire, as if she'd never left her desk at all.

"Do you want me to arrange to send him some flowers?" asked Nancy.

Claire's head jerked. "Women don't send men flowers!" she said. Then she thought about how she hadn't been in the dating field for years and years, and things might have changed. "Do they?" she added.

Nancy smiled. "They do if they had more than one orgasm." She was taking a chance. She knew Claire well, and they were as friendly as a boss and employee could be, but it was still a chance.

Claire blushed. But she was an adult, and she wasn't ashamed in any way of how she felt about Chuck.

"Better make it two dozen then," said Claire. She grinned at her secretary. She wrote Chuck's name on a piece of stationary and handed it to Nancy. "Have them charge it to my personal account. The bank's not paying for this one."

Nancy was smiling from ear to ear when she left. She suddenly stopped and turned back around. "I almost forgot. Mister Phinneas wanted to see you when you got back. It didn't sound like he was mad about anything."

Claire almost groaned. Clyde Phinneas was the president of the bank. While he had never said or done anything improper, his eyes raked up and down her figure every time he saw her. She was always on her guard around Clyde. But he was the boss, so she got up and strode toward his office on the other side of the building.

"Yes sir?" she said as she walked into his office.

He looked up from the papers on his desk and, true to form, his eyes went from her face to her chest, and then down, before slowly drawing back up to her face. "Sit down Claire," he said.

She sat in the chair farthest from his desk and waited. Clyde was hard to read, but he didn't look too happy.

"This ... difficulty with coach Bondurant ... It's very unpleasant," said Phinneas.

Claire's stomach did a flip flop as she realized Phinneas didn't look happy at all.

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