Everything for Her Son

"Look, Mrs. Tyler," Mr. Radcliff—the high-school basketball coach (and former European basketball superstar)—said, "I'm gonna be honest with you, even if it goes against school's policy."

"What do you mean?" She raised her eyebrow, inspecting carefully the tall, balding man, who still retained his physique from the years he was considered a stud of the courts.

"We've been told never to say bad things about the students; always to encourage them, even when...well, the fact of the matter is, Mrs. Tyler, Mark doesn't have it.

"He's really trying, I'll give him that, but, in the end, he's simply not good enough. I just thought I should tell you first; perhaps, you'll be able to ease it in on him.

"If I tell him that, he'll just claim I'm discriminating him for...something, I'm sure he'll find a reason to blame me. But, if you deliver the bad news, maybe, he'll accept it, maybe, he'll find something else, something he's actually good at."

"But," she protested and leaned forth, brushing her long, brown hair back, "he's trying so hard! All he wants, all he ever dreamed of, is to play basketball; I mean..."

"I get it," he nodded, with a faint frown. "He's not the first, nor will he be the last. And, trust me, it's always hard to deliver these kind of news; telling someone, especially a teenager, that they're not good enough to accomplish their dream.

"But, if we don't...well, if Mark works three times, four times harder than the rest of the team, he'll become...an average player, at best. Even if he works ten times harder, if he practices 24/7, if he...he'll never rise up above mediocrity.

"While, on the other hand, he probably has a talent at something else, something...where he can excel. And that's the biggest problem here; to convince him to abandon his fruitless dream and chase something else.

"To help him find a new dream to pursue. Mrs. Tyler," he added, when he noticed her aghast look, "I'm being too harsh, I know, but, it's for Mark's best interest. If I make you understand the situation, then, you'll be able to help Mark efficiently.

"I could easily just tell you—like the school would probably want me to—that Mark can achieve anything, as long as he works hard. I ought to encourage you to encourage Mark to continue pursuing his dream...but, I can't.

"I've seen too many people fail, because no one ever told them the truth, and how it affected them; maybe, Mark won't mind he'll never be a star. Maybe, he'll be content knowing he'll only ever play in second-, or third-rate teams. But, right now, he's dreaming of a NBA career and he's convinced himself he's got what it takes...

"It'll be extremely tough on him, if we let him believe he's got a chance; Hell," he chuckled dryly, "I once thought I'd make it to the NBA. I never did; I was never that good. But, I remember how it felt, when I first realized I didn't have what it takes.

"I was devastated; I even contemplated suicide once or twice. Eventually, I accepted it and focused on my career here in Europe, but...yes, there was a time I felt completely worthless.

"And Mark's heading toward the same direction; this is why I'm telling you all this, Mrs. Tyler. I don't have a grudge against Mark, nor do I want to hurt him. I just want to protect him."

"Mr. Radcliff," she said, with a heavy moan, "while I appreciate your concern and...your advice, I just...can't tell Mark all this! Basketball is all he does, all he's interested in!

"You know that! So, if I were to tell him..."

"Yes," he interrupted her with an acknowledging nod, "I know. I never said it's gonna be easy. I know it's gonna be hard. But, ever since I became a teacher, I realized one thing; we're encouraging our children way too much. We try not to break their hearts, not to devastate them, and we allow them to believe they'll...achieve far more than they're capable of.

"English teachers encourage students to continue writing, when they clearly have no talent for it. Us sports coaches encourage students to keep on playing, to keep practicing and keep on dreaming, when we know they'll never make it past amateur divisions.

"I'm not saying Mark shouldn't play basketball; he should, for as long as he enjoys it. All I'm saying, is that he shouldn't be allowed to believe he has a chance of ever making it to any big team, to dream he's gonna be a huge star one day.

"Maybe, the biggest problem of our time is that we keep telling our children they can do anything and can be anyone they want. They grow complacent and start believing they are owed success and end up waiting for success to come knocking on their door.

"Perhaps, if we told them no, if we told them they're not good enough, those that are good enough would find the drive to try harder, to get better and better, even if just to prove us wrong."

"I just..." She sat back on the small metal chair and observed the small office next to the locker rooms, covered in medals and awards. "I can't be this mean to Mark, that's all...I just can't..."

"I get it," he rubbed the bridge of his nose and smiled faintly. "I'm not sure I could tell him everything I just told you, to be honest. He's a really great kid, with a bright future ahead of him...just not in basketball."

"All right, I'll...think about everything we talked about, I..." She drew a deep breath and stared dead into his eyes. "But, couldn't you let him play more? I mean, it's just high school basketball, it's...he could play more; maybe, make him a starter for a game, or two?"

"Mrs. Tyler," he said, sternly, "that's the reason I called you in the first place; because Mark asked for more minutes on court. And I wanted to explain to you why it's not feasible.

"High school basketball or not, it's still a competitive division—one which can give the really good players opportunities for scholarships, or, exposure to agents and managers of good teams. I can't risk those kids' chances, by letting Mark in for more minutes.

"Mark's position in the team is to come in for a few minutes per game—usually when we lead by a good margin—to give the good players a short rest. I can't put him any higher in the rotation. I simply can't."

"Are you sure there isn't anything we can do to..." She leaned forth and pressed her breasts between her arms, her nipples almost piercing through the thin fabric of her light-green sleeveless shirt.

"Mrs. Tyler," he cleared his throat and coldly stared at her firm, round breasts as she lowered her shirt just enough to show a deep cleavage, "I'm not gonna be tempted by this; I'm not your average teacher.

"I used to play for big clubs, I know my way around...women and..."

"What if I told you," she winked and got up, bending over the chair, her heart-shaped ass perfectly embraced by her skin-tight jeans, "I'm an anal virgin?"

"What's that got to..."

"And I'm willing to give it up..."

"Mrs. Tyler, I..." He got up, too, and instantly regretted it—his sweatpants were tight enough to showcase his semi-erection.

"Obviously like what you're seeing and hearing," she eyeballed his crotch and her lips twitched.

"I do, of course, I just..." he cleared his throat emphatically, when she unbuttoned her jeans and lowered them just enough to show she had gone commando.

"All I'm saying, is," she walked up to him, grinding her body on his, gently caressing his bulge, "to reconsider your stance about Mark; perhaps...give him some extra opportunities, some incentive to improve himself. I...

"Mrs. Tyler—" he moaned, when the softness and smoothness of her hand came in direct contact with his rock-hard shaft "—I can't...I..."

"Just relax, Mr. Radcliff," she smiled widely and brushed her red plump lips on his. "You're so tight...and so am I, for that matter...perhaps, there's something we can do to loosen both of us up a bit...don't you think?" She tightened her grip around his prick and stroked, her lips curling as she explored his length and girth.

"Mrs. Tyler," he protested, albeit too weakly, "it's not right, I...don't do that kind of thing, I..."

"You're divorced, living alone...I'm sure you could use some fun..."

"How do you know...?"

"News spread fast, Mr. Radcliff, when you're working at a high school, where there are many stay at home moms with a lot of time in their hands for gossiping."

"Right," he closed his eyes, when she pulled his rod out of his sweatpants and rubbed it on her jeans. "But, you're married, Mrs. Tyler, I..."

"So?" She shrugged and stared straight into his eyes, her lips just an inch away from his.

"It's just not...right...it's..." he protested, but, his willpower weakened with every second passing; when she took her shirt off and threw it away, and then knelt down and put his prick between her breasts, he leaned back against the wall, his legs suddenly too weak and his mind too numb.

"My husband and I are just sharing the same house," she explained, in between licking and kissing the head of his cock. "It's been a white marriage for years now...the only thing that's not right in all this, is that you haven't started fucking my tits yet!" She giggled and twirled her tongue around the sensitive head, thoroughly cherishing the way his body jerked.

She opened her mouth wide, while his hot prick, tightly engulfed by her breasts, glided against her skin, the head finding its way in and out of her salivating mouth.

A prolonged moan escaped her mouth, when he grabbed her silicone-enhanced breasts and pressed them even tighter around his prick—gradually, he found his bravado and fucked her tits harder, slamming the head of his cock in her mouth.

Abruptly, he jerked her head back by the hair and forced her to look into his eyes; a smirk twitched her lips, when she noticed the glow in his blue eyes. Before she realized it, her throat was stuffed by his thick rod and his balls rested on her chin.

With long, deep thrusts he pounded her throat, while staring intensely in her watery, beaming eyes; she gagged on his dick, as it reached way too deep down her throat. Yet, all she could think of was how it'd feel like having his majestic tool buried deep in her virgin asshole.

It wouldn't take her long to find out; Mr. Radcliff, in his impatient lust, pulled her up on her feet, by the hair, and threw her on the desk. He jerked her jeans down to her knees and spanked her ass.

"Where's the reluctance now, Mr. Radcliff?" She giggled softly, when his tongue connected with her asshole, its warmth sending pleasurable chills up her spine.

"Shut up," he instructed her and slapped her ass again, putting more power behind it.

She cried out in pain, and pleasure, then bit her lips down—she quickly realized it was only early in the afternoon and other teachers and faculty members were still around.

Her gaze moved to the shut, but unlocked, door of Mr. Radcliff's small office; what would happen, if someone walked in? One of Mark's teachers? Or, maybe, the parents of one of Mark's friends?

What would they think, if they saw her bent over Mr. Radcliff's office, his tongue in her asshole, preparing it for a deep penetration?

All these thoughts, however, were quickly erased from her mind, when he started rubbing and slapping her wet slit, while burying his tongue deeper in her ass, dilating the first sphincter.

"Enough with the foreplay," he said and stood up, slapping his weighty prick on her asscheeks.

"Just...take it easy, okay? I...I am a virgin there, and..." she mumbled, her heart pounding hard—up until that point it had all been fun and games, innocent flirting, but, now, when the tip of his cock pushed against her asshole and stretched it out painfully, all she could do was let out a loud cry.

"Will you shut up?" He said and covered her mouth with his large hand. "Do you want people to know what a filthy slut you are?"

She shook her head, while he pushed harder, slowly burying his thick prick deep in her ass. He held her arms behind her back and drove his shaft deep and hard in her, methodically stretching her out; her breasts were squashed on the rough surface of the wooden desk, yet, it became stimulating, as her erect nipples rubbed against it following every balls-deep thrust.

His thrusts grew stronger and faster, as her asshole loosened up and offered little resistance to his prick; and the more she was loosened up, the more the pain turned into sheer joy.

She bit down her lips hard, muffling the cries of pleasure trying to escape her mouth; she was slammed against the desk—her whole body rocking back and forth—and kept stealing glimpses of the door, in both fear and hope someone would barge in.

With his cock still buried deep in her, he lifted her up, spun her around, and pushed her against the wall; with one hand holding both her arms behind her back, he drilled her hard and guided his free hand to her dripping cunt, rubbing her slit.

She arched her back high, staring at the ceiling through her blurry vision, and desperately tried to stop the oncoming screams; her ass was getting plowed and, now that the pain had completely subsided, a euphoric sensation had rendered her body utterly numb.

"My God, yes!" She cried out, finally giving in to her mad desire. "Fuck me harder, Mr. Radcliff!"

"When I'm done with you, Mrs. Tyler," he grunted in her ear, "you won't be able to walk straight for a week." Perhaps to showcase his point, he pulled his cock out of her slightly gaped ass and thrust it all the way back in; he chuckled rather cruelly in her ear, when she let out a thunderous cry.

Tears of joy welled up in her eyes and he continued unfazed to ram her brutally; when he pulled out and stretched her asscheeks, she felt up the looseness of her gaped asshole. She blushed, when she noticed Mr. Radcliff marveling over his accomplishment.

Then, he drove his cock back in her ass and continued with the plowing; simultaneously, he thrust two fingers in her pussy.

Feeling all too stuffed and satisfied, she cried out in orgasmic pleasure; her knees buckled and her mind grew hazy...he pulled his fingers out of her convulsing cunt and let her squirt all over the floor with his prick still buried in her ass, her convulsions hugging his shaft even tighter.

Yet, her convulsions and wild squirming proved more than he could handle; two long thrusts were all it took for his cock to explode deep in her.

The numerous streams of thick cum unloaded in her ass brought on a second orgasm to her already weakened body and when Mr. Radcliff pulled out of her and let her arms go, she collapsed on her knees, her gaped asshole clenching and unclenching rapidly, streams of spunk dripping down on the floor.

"Well, Mrs. Tyler," he cleared his throat and tucked his now-flaccid shaft back in his sweatpants, "you've got some good arguments about Mark's position in the team."

"I'm glad you—" she panted heavily and accepted his help to get back up on her feet, stumbling about in her high heels, "—heard me out, Mr. Radcliff."

"However," he said and a wicked smirk distorted his face, "I'm not sure if your ideas can be...implemented. Perhaps," he cleared his throat, staring at her intensely as she pulled her jeans up and searched for her shirt, "we should meet again, to discuss the matter more...thoroughly."

"Why do I have the feeling," she said, quickly dropping the act, "that you're not going to do anything about Mark?"

"Because, I'm not," he said, losing his act, too. "I told you from the start, Mrs. Tyler, what I believe and where I stand on this."

"Right. So..." She flicked her long, sweaty hair back.

"You can always come back, when you want to...discuss, but...it won't make any difference."

"He's still in the team, though, right?" She inquired, raising her eyebrow.

"I wasn't going to kick him out anyway," he shrugged. "All I said was that it'd be a good idea if he dropped out of the team and found something he's actually good at to focus on."

"Right, I'll...well, I better get going now," she opened the door and walked out, desperately trying not to limp—however, with her ass still on fire, it was nearly impossible.

She smiled as inconspicuously as she could to whomever she met on her way to the exit—mainly Mark's teachers and some of the school's administration members—and got in her car.

It took her a few moments to sit properly, so it wouldn't hurt too much, and only then did she drive off—disappointed at the fact she had to deliver some bad news to her son and yet unable to forget the intense, unprecedented pleasure that made her come twice in such a short time.

Perhaps—she thought, as she parked next to her husband's BMW—anal's the spark we so desperately need.