Mari's POV
Alya pushed me. I'll admit it. I don't mean literally of course. Mr. D'Argencourt recently retired, and since then, a new hottie has taken his place. Alya and I've only seen Mr. Agreste twice. One time he was pouring himself a cup of coffee in the teacher work room while we were passing by. Those basketball shorts he's always wearing keep giving me butterflies. The second time was when he stopped in our english class to steal a moment of Ms. Bustier's time.
Now Alya and I were seniors, obviously we had sex drives. It's human nature. But holy shit...I could practically picture my nails digging into those broad shoulders of his. His basketball shorts might be hot, but the shirts he wore were next level smokin'. I think he purposely bought shirts that were a size too small, that way his nipples showed through the fabric and every inch of muscle was projected for all of us to see.
Anyway, sorry, I got sidetracked. Football season was approaching and Alya convinced me to join the team. Now I might say that Alya 'forced' me, but I was practically drooling at the sign up sheet with Mr. Agrestes beautifully printed name at the top. I attempted to get Alya to join, but apparently her journalism club meetings are during practice.
That's how I got to where I was now... on the field... standing in a line... with a bunch of other people... in front of Mr. Agreste. I made sure the shorts I wore were short and tight, that way my panty line showed through. On top was a plain tank.
"Listen up! Before you make the team, I'll need to assess each of you individually. Now, I don't have the time to do that, and I don't want to keep you guys here all night. So grab a partner and practice kicking between each other. Once I see who can progress from there, we'll start a game." I didn't realize he had my knees shaking until I nearly fell over. It was just that deep, luscious voice of his. The twirl in his hair from the wind didn't help neither.
I quickly grabbed Juleka before someone else could steal her. Rose would've joined, but Mr. Agreste's said to be homophobic. Hence why Marc didn't join.
I sent Juleka off to find a spot while I took a ball from the ball cart. To my surprise, Mr. Agreste happened to be standing right next to it. I totally did not plan that.
"Marinette, right?" Oh shit, my legs were trembling again.
"Y-yes! I'm Marinette. Of course you already knew that seeing how you just asked me if my name is Marinette, so I probably shouldn't have repeated you and wasted your time." Oh my god, did I just word vomit? In front of him?!
"Heh, yeah. Anyways, next time, wear something less tight to practice. It's distracting." His eyes fell from my face to his clipboard. And my smile mimicked the movement.
"Yes, sir." I mumbled, slugging away to my desolate corner of misery.
Juleka didn't question my sour mood, or why I kept yelling at her each time she kicked the ball to the left or right of me. How to be a shitty friend 101.
She was a decent player; she surprisingly knew how to dribble the ball. When passing became too boring, we dribbled between each other, lightly kicking the ball onto our knees and passing back and forth.
Then the whistle blew.
"Listen up! Before we start a game, I need to see who our good goalies are." I took this unexpected disruption to observe the others trying out, and I realized a fraction of them were gone. Mr. Agreste sure made short work of them.
The rest of us gathered around him and the left field net. He gave us a minute long pep talk of which I already forgot most of. I was too busy staring at those shorts. He had a nice butt, I'll admit, but it was not as amazing as the front. Black polyester hugged every curve so tightly you could actually count each inch of his...
Oh my god...I must've been ovulating.
"Ivan, Goalie." The 6 foot 4 giant made his way to the middle of the goal before Mr. Agreste called on me to be the kicker. The attention didn't usually bother me, but with Mr. Agreste standing not 5 feet away from me, everything became surreal. So surreal, that my kick was such a failure. Ivan blocked it easily and it came rolling back to me.
"What the fuck was that?" Mr. Agreste shouted from behind me. My head sank between my shoulders like a turtle. "You have to change your formation Marinette. Here, let me show you." When he said that, I expected him to actually kick the ball, but instead he took my hips into his hands. His fingers warm against my skin, he twisted my body. With his guidance, I faced the net with a slight twist in my hips.
He hesitated when his hands left my skin. My burning skin that ached for his touch again already.
My breathing was heavy, I realized, but I kicked the ball. Ivan dove, he tried to stop it, but surprisingly...he couldn't. My heart was on fire and I think my skin was officially charred from Mr. Agreste's burning touch.
"Perfect, Mainette." Fuck, I wished he'd stop saying my name. His voice made me want to rip off his thin clothes.
Our practice continued for another hour, consisting of a game that had Mr. Agreste's eyes following my every move. I wasn't sure why. He touched me once and now I felt his stare penetrating me. It wasn't a coach making sure their player was doing well kind of stare, it was a stare that dominated me in every way.
Another suggestion of Alya's, I stayed late. I rolled the ball cart back to the gym even though Mr. Agreste tried denying my help. By the time I was ready to leave, everyone else was gone.
Mr. Agreste was in his office taking stats when I came to say goodbye.
"Well, I'm heading out. See you tomorrow, Coach." I made sure my turn wasn't too sexy, but I still wanted my ass to look fine.
"Marinette, wait." God, with the name again. I stepped back into his doorway. His office was of decent size. The walls were black and lime green, which was a little odd for a gym teacher, but I didn't mind. I noticed the length of his desk though. Only half of it was being used by his computer and papers. And I couldn't help my mind from wandering slightly. "I'm serious about the uniform. No matter how much I might enjoy it, I don't need my players seeing their coach with tented shorts."
I swallowed so loudly my ears burned, but not as much as my fucking cheeks.
"Y-yes, sir. I won't wear them again." I lied. Shit, if this was the attention I was going to get from him just by wearing tight shorts and a scanty tank, I was going to keep wearing them.
Mr. Agreste dismissed me, and I left his office with butterflies and wet panties.
The next day I wore a pair of tight black spandex shorts with a slightly loose green tank. Mr. Agreste was a little more than angry, he saw red and came charging like a bull. He excused both of us and practically dragged me to his office. The office that so happened to be the same color as my outfit.
"I thought I told you to change your fucking outfit choices, Marinette." He wasn't facing me. He was facing his closed door.
"I did it for you though." I said innocently.
"Listen, I don't come from the nicest family. Now either you promise to change into the school issued gym uniform, or I show you what bad girls get in my family." He was so furious, his veins were bulging from his neck.
"Well...I don't have a gym uniform." He was so fucking quick, I didn't realize he had my hair in his grip until our faces were inches apart. His pupils were dilated, like they were trying to soak in as much of my body as they could. He was feasting on me with his eyes.
"You're asking for it." He whispered angrily. He pressed his body closer to mine and I felt it. His clothed cock kissed my clit perfectly, and my knees buckled. I moaned and fell into his body as much as his grip allowed me to. The scoop of my tank top gave him clear access to my squished cleavage. "Fuck..."
I remembered hearing the vulgar words slip from his lips, but the next moment was a blur. I can't recall how my tank top ended in shreds and how he began palming my breasts with his face between my thighs.
He didn't even bother tearing my panties away, he just pushed them to the side with his tongue. That oh so gorgeous tongue that was currently exploring my soaking cunt. He had placed me on the unused portion of his desk, the part I just happened to be eyeing up yesterday.
My head was thrown backwards and my back was arched from pure ecstasy. Each lap of his tongue had my head swirling with untamed sexual desire.
My nipples were tight between his fingers, and the overwhelming pleasure from both his fingers and his tongue made my lights nearly go out. I let everything overtake me as my legs locked around his neck.
He grabbed my hips, pulling me closer to him and shoving that glorious muscle of his further into my pussy. I screeched then moaned then screeched again. Everything was suddenly so tight. It felt like I had a ball of yarn in my lower abdomen and someone pulled every inch of that yarn until the end, but they kept pulling.
I lost track of the minutes, but his fingers were digging and his tongue was twirling and I screamed. I screamed his name with every ounce of tension between us. My legs held his face closer while he consumed my climax and then some. My clit was panting and my cunt was crying.
Mr. Agreste unlocked my legs and left me on his desk for a moment, regathering my breath. I sat up to face him.
"T-Thank you, coach." When I stood up, my hair was immediately in his grip once again. He pulled it back, intentionally exposing my sweating neck. I shivered at the contact of his lips, soft compared to his brash tongue. Not once did he bite me, he simply peppered me with kisses.
"This is not a gift, Marinette. This is your fucking punishment." I was back on the desk then, this time with my breasts pressed to the surface.
With my hair still in his grip, he pulled it back. My back involuntarily arched, but then I felt the swollen tip of his cock brush my clit and suddenly I became a contortionist. I pleaded with him to punish me. I begged him to fuck me. And finally...he did.
My cunt was so fucking drenched, neither of us grunted at my tightness. He didn't waste a second before owning every inch of my body with nothing but the thrusts of his cock. He spanked me once with his unused hand before wrapping around my neck.
"Oh my God," I gritted out. He abused my cunt in the most exquisite way that I couldn't tell the difference between pain and pleasure. Oxygen felt like it was dwindling and holding my breath didn't help me. My coach tugged slightly on my hair. With the movement came a pent up moan that rattled the walls.
"You hear that pussy? You hear how wet it is for me?" I do. I really fucking do. Those sounds vibrate within the air around us; I can feel the beat of my clit's heart on my vocal cords with each moan I make.
Suddenly, a knock came from his door. He halted immediately, releasing my throat and hair. Though he didn't pull out, I realized.
"Hey Coach, you okay in there? You and Marinette have been gone for almost half an hour." My face flushed.
"Not now, Kim. We're having a very serious discussion." Mr. Agreste said calmly.
"Seriously? It's been-"
"Not fucking now!" He pounds his fist on the desk next to me for emphasis, and I hear Kim scurrying away.
Apparently Mr. Agreste isn't someone who wastes any time because he went straight back to demolishing my body.
He quickly picked up speed as his hands went to my hips. I shuddered violently when his fingers grazed my recently tattooed flesh. The skin around my ladybug was still red from the operation. He noticed immediately but didn't say anything. Though he kept circling that spot with his index finger. And oddly enough, that made my cunt flutter with excitement.
"Can I come?" I'm not sure why I asked. He didn't tell me I couldn't.
"Please come. Come on my fucking cock." Two seconds ago I wasn't that close to finishing, but hearing him beg me to had my cunt tightening and pulling him deep inside me. He grunted behind me, doubling over and holding himself up with his hand on my back.
I buried my face into the cool wood of his desk while wave after wave of blinding pleasure consumed me. Thank God the desk was underneath me because every inch of my body went limp until Mr. Agreste pulled out and finished onto my back.
He used an athletic towel to clean me off and then suddenly we were back to merely coach and player. We returned to practice like nothing had happened, but those gorgeous green eyes still followed my every move.