In The Zone 2 — Set
The next days passed quickly as Sally kept her head down and worked away on her coursework. She finished an essay ahead of schedule, did really well at a tutorial, and when her next training session came round she felt satisfied with what she had achieved academically since her last session. John would be pleased, she reckoned, and the thought made her happy.
She arrived early, and when John arrived she eagerly answered his polite enquiries about her studies. He said he was impressed with her progress, and Sally couldn’t help but smile joyfully.
“Come on, let’s get started,” said John. “Stretches.”
“Yes sir,” said Sally, and began her routine.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” said John kindly.
“Sir?” said Sally, straightening up and furrowing her brow.
“Your tracksuit?” John said. “Remember, I need to see your body to be sure that you are putting your full effort into every stretch. You won’t be able to get in the zone if you aren’t properly warmed up. Take it off please.”
“Of course sir,” said Sally, “I’m really sorry sir, I forgot,” she explained, feeling any lingering concern over taking off her clothes replaced with a concern that she wasn’t following John’s instructions. She nervously ran her teeth over her lower lip and hastily pulled off her tracksuit.
“No need to look so worried,” said John, smiling. “But you have to do as I say if you want to succeed.”
“Yes sir,” said Sally, now standing in her white bra and panties.
“Continue stretching,” said John, and watched the semi-naked woman complete her stretches, her flexibility quite evident from the right angle her long, straight legs made with her back as she bent over. As she stood to complete her stretches she saw John watching the subtle shift of her muscles under her smooth skin, and she smiled to think that she was making it easier for him to assess her performance. She made an extra effort to thrust out her chest, throwing back her shoulders as she loosened them, as she remembered at their first session this had been her poorest stretch.
“Good girl,” said John, noting her improvement.
When she was finished they made their way to the court. John had not told her to put her tracksuit back on, so she didn’t think to do so. They started a rally, and she found herself slipping into the zone deeply and effortlessly, her cool skin soon warming up and taking on a healthy, shiny glow.
John set up the machine, and she began to return the balls to the usual rhythm. Without being asked she began to chant the mantra “obey, obey, in the zone.” John spoke as she played, her mind not consciously registering his words but her body obeying, now operating immediately when he gave a command to change stance or how she was to hit the ball.
Like before, they spent most of the session doing this, with Sally mindlessly returning the ball and slipping deeper into a state of intense, trusting relaxation while John gave her instructions. Throughout, she breathily murmured “obey, obey, in the zone,” over and over.
When John stopped the machine she was much more relaxed than ever before, and felt absolutely wonderful. She sighed happily and licked her lips. They had become dry by her continuous chanting of the mantra.
“Stretches,” John ordered, and Sally obeyed, dropping her racquet to go through her warm down routine.
“We’ve stopped early this evening,” said John as Sally stretched her shiny legs and twisted her toned stomach, “as I want to discuss a number of things that indirectly affect your tennis; your personal life, our ongoing professional relationship, and good hygienic practise. These are important for you to achieve your potential.”
“…important,” repeated Sally sleepily, in total agreement as she touched her toes. John watched her complete her routine in silence, and simply said “good girl” when she was finished. Sally smiled.
“Changing rooms,” said John, and Sally went through. They both entered and John sat facing her like before.
“Strip,” he instructed her, and Sally obeyed, kicking off her shoes and pulling her panties down over her thighs and ankles, discarding them and unclasping her bra. Her breasts bounced free, and Sally stood attentively, hands relaxed by her sides, waiting demurely for her coach’s next orders.
“Sit,” said John, and Sally’s legs bent, dropping her toned ass to the wooden bench without a thought.
“An important part of an athlete’s life is to balance your training sessions with other commitments,” John explained. “If you have an enjoyable social life, for example, then you will feel more motivated to perform well at training – if all you are doing is studying and training then you will become bored and stressed and your performance will suffer. Do you feel your social life is lacking?”
“Yes sir,” Sally answered honestly, and felt a wave of anxiety. John had defined her problem totally, she hadn’t seen her friends much lately, and she hadn’t had an evening out for a long time—all she was doing was studying and playing tennis. She hung on his next words, mentally begging her coach to tell her how she could achieve the correct balance.
“Can you go through days without really speaking to anyone, just working on coursework and practising tennis?”
“Yes sir,” Sally admitted.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” asked John.
“No sir,” answered Sally.
“So how often do you have sex? Do you masturbate?” asked John, his tone neutral and his face entirely serious.
“Um,” replied Sally, hesitating, squirming in embarrassment as she sat nude on the bench in front of her coach.
“I’m your coach,” John reminded her, “I need to know, and you need to be in the zone. How often?”
“Not at all, really,” Sally replied, feeling the wonderful calmness returning. “Not for six months.”
“Masturbation?”
“Not much. I never really feel like it, sir,” Sally answered.
“Low sex drive is a common sign of stress,” John explained, “And it works both ways. Sexual frustration can add to your stress, and stress makes you less likely to want sex. But don’t worry, we can work on that, and you should think about masturbation as a form of stress relief.”
Sally nodded, she wasn’t worried if John said there was no reason to be, and she was happy to try anything her coach recommended. She felt the idea of masturbation as a form of stress relief arrive fully formed in her head. What a good idea.
“Fortunately, we can combine this with another topic I wish to discuss with you,” said John, pulling Sally’s attention back to their conversation. “Apart from a proper warm up and down, we will be trying more techniques to help your muscles relax, including massage. Did your last coach ever give your muscles a rub down after a hard session, or if you had cramp in a specific area?” asked John.
“Yes sir.” said Sally.
“Good,” said John, “so let’s do that now.” He reached into his sports bag and brought out a tube of golden oil.
“Lie down on the bench,” he ordered, and Sally lifted her legs up and lay on her side, before turning face down so her breasts were pressing into the wooden slats.
She stared at the wooden bench, with little peripheral vision, but when she heard the rustle of fabric she turned her head to see John’s shirt hit the floor. She shifted nervously, lifting her head.
“Don’t want to get my shirt covered in oil,” John explained, and Sally relaxed. Of course, she thought, as she settled back down. She felt John’s hands lifting her hair up, draping it over her shoulder so it dangled down through the bench, exposing the full length of her smooth back.
Sally jumped slightly at the pop when John opened the tube of oil, and then heard him squeeze a generous blob onto his hands. As he worked it into his palms and between his fingers Sally caught a hint of the smell, an oaky, natural scent, much more pleasant than the cheap chemical-smelling stuff her old coach used. She breathed in deeply through her nose and exhaled with a long contented sigh. John was so much better than her old coach.
She felt John’s hands on her back, running up and down, lightly at first but soon pressing deeply into her soft flesh.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” John said pleasantly. His expert fingers pressed deeper, more firmly, and Sally moaned, almost inaudibly, with pleasure. Her eyes closed and her mouth opened a little as her face relaxed.
John’s hands moved lower, leaving her loosened shoulder muscles and concentrating on the small of her back, and then lower, to her ass. His touch was gentle, almost stroking rather than massaging, but again the pressure increased until he was kneading the firm globes in his wide outstretched hands.
After her ass was warm and coated with oil, Sally felt Johns hands sink lower again, to her thighs. These muscles were worked especially hard by playing tennis, and Sally could feel that despite a comprehensive warm down they were still very tight. John’s hands worked harder here than before, and Sally couldn’t help but take a sharp intake of breath as his hands pressed down firmly, causing discomfort but not pain, like a really satisfying stretch. When his grip slackened she let out a low moan of relief, and felt her legs relax even more, spreading slightly.
“Feeling the benefit?” asked John, and Sally murmured agreement. As John’s hands moved to her other thigh, Sally turned her mind hazily back to what John had been saying about sex and stress, and felt a twinge of sexual need as John’s hands worked around her thighs, which increased as she got more and more relaxed. He probably didn’t realise, she thought, but his fingers were mere inches from her pussy. Just as well he was using oil, as she would have been concerned that otherwise he would have noticed the slight glistening of her pussy.
John’s hands went lower, down to her calves, then her ankles, then finally her feet. She twitched at first, it was ticklish, but John told her to relax and she felt her feet go limp. John lifted her feet to finish his work on them, then gently rested them back down on the bench
“You enjoyed that,” said John, half-question and half-statement. It was obvious from Sally’s insistent moaning that she had.
“Yes sir,” Sally replied indistinctly, her voice muffled both by the wooden bench and by the sheer level of deep relaxation she felt.
“Good, now turn over so I can do your front,” said John.
Sally pushed herself up, and turned around, settling back down, now staring upwards. Her ass felt so relaxed, and she felt it sink onto the bench. She was so comfortable. She could see John standing above her; he wasn’t looking at her, he was getting some more oil and was intently working it into his hands.
He was topless, and his muscled chest was streaked with oil in a few places from where he had accidentally brushed against Sally’s oiled back and legs, matting down the light covering of brown hair. His forearms shone with oil too, glistening as they caught the light.
Sally realised that this way up it would be obvious that she was aroused; her nipples were stiff and her pussy shone despite the fat it hadn’t been oiled. However, John was too much of a gentleman to mention this notice as he set to work, starting by massaging Sally’s neck and shoulders. She gazed up at his rapt face. He was staring at his own hands and at Sally’s body, a consummate professional coach.
His hands dropped from her shoulders to her stomach, occasionally sliding past her breasts and causing them to wobble. Sally gasped as John’s hands brushed her sensitive nipples in passing. He couldn’t help but notice her arousal now, she thought. She knew it was normal for a coach to massage his student, but she felt her relaxation fading a little regardless. She found herself partially brought out of her enjoyable daze by a sudden wave of lust, and partially by the whole situation. It was probably just the sexual frustration like John had said, and nothing else. In fact, even as she thought this, John put her mind at rest.
“Don’t look so worried, Sally,” John said, finally raising his eyes to meet hers and smiling reassuringly. “I told you we would work on your sexual frustration as well as muscle tension, and it’s perfectly normal for you to get sexually excited by this. It’s ok,” he confirmed. “Don’t be embarrassed, I’m your coach. Just stay in the zone.”
“Yes sir,” sighed Sally, scolding herself mentally for not realising—of course John knew about her sexual frustration, he was trying to help her! She melted back into relaxation.
“It’s ok,” John repeated, now running his hands directly over her breasts, covering them in the same pleasant-smelling oil, paying special attention to her nipples, which crinkled under his touch, meaning he had to spend even longer running them through his fingers to make sure they shone like the rest of her naked body. Sally moaned more conspicuously, now that she knew John didn’t mind.
John had returned to his massaging, and was now working on her thighs. Again, he worked them hard, drawing a gasp of momentary discomfort from Sally, followed by a shuddering moan as the pressure relented. Her legs shook a little, and spread slightly further open. She tensed her ass so her pussy was lifted slightly. She could see a few stray beads of oil on her pubic hair, and could feel how wet she was becoming without looking. She could even smell the musk of her own arousal over the scent of the oil now. John didn’t seem to notice her burning lust, though he surely must, thought Sally. For the moment he chose to ignore it as he finished working down Sally’s legs to her ankles.
When he was finished, John stepped back and looked down at Sally’s shining naked body. Sally stayed in position, on her back and waiting for her next orders from her coach, feeling too pleasantly relaxed to move but still feeling the constant heat between her legs.
John sat opposite her, and Sally noticed his shorts were taut around his bulging crotch. She blushed; her coach was enjoying this too. She felt a number of things; forefront of her mind was the obvious point; he was selflessly helping her relax, but in doing so he was required to see and touch her naked body. He was a man, so clearly he would get aroused. Nothing unusual about that. However, Sally also felt a nagging confusion she couldn’t quite pin down, and then a flash of lust over the top of it. She was glad she had this effect on him.
“It’s not important for now,” said John, noticing her gaze. It’s not important, Sally thought, and turned her eyes back to John’s face.
“Now, let’s talk about masturbation,” said John, and Sally felt a bolt of lust course through her pussy at mention of the subject. “Sit up,” John added, and Sally felt her reluctance to move disappear. She straightened to a seated position, and let her hands rest on her thighs, almost wishing her coach wasn’t here so she could masturbate right away.
“I know you are busy with your studies, and you might find it hard to make the time for regular masturbation in your daily life,” said John. “Also I want to make sure you are doing it effectively, so from now on we will make time for it in your training sessions.”
“Yes sir,” said Sally, so glad that John was helping her get through her sexual frustrations and that he had helped bring her so close to release already. “Should I…?” She stopped, immediately feeling embarrassed for asking and shyly waited for John to speak.
“Yes,” said John, “you may now masturbate.”
“Oh thank you sir,” Sally said happily. “Yes sir,” she added, her hand sliding between her legs to the dripping wet slit of her pussy. She sighed as her hand slid up and down, using a finger to rub the lips and making it as slick and evenly coated as John’s fingers had been during her massage. She slipped it inside, feeling her swollen clit throb to her touch.
“Two fingers,” said John, Sally hesitated for a moment, and although she was soon wetting a second finger on the wet folds of her pussy John noticed the tiny pause.
“Sally,” John said, and Sally murmured acknowledgement. “Regular sex or masturbation is necessary for a balanced lifestyle,” John told her, “but it’s just like practising tennis; you need to be in the zone for it to be most effective.”
“Yes sir,” Sally agreed, her voice now sounding husky to her own ears.
“I’m your coach, do as I tell you instantly,” John said firmly but kindly.
“Sorry sir,” said Sally, “of course sir.”
“Three fingers,” John said, and Sally let out a low moan as she obeyed, feeling her pussy now tight against her own three fingers that slid in and out. Sally heard the pop of the bottle of oil, and drifted out of the mist of personal lust enough to see John rubbing a squirt of oil into the handle of her racquet.
“Just like practising tennis,” John repeated, rubbing until the handle was shiny with oil. “Take this,” he said, holding out the racquet. She took it from him with her spare hand, and held it in front of her while her other hand worked away at her pussy.
“What do you think you should do with that?” John asked the naked, panting girl.
“Use it on my pussy?” she suggested hungrily. John nodded.
Sally pressed the handle of her racquet against her pussy, and lifted herself up from the bench slightly, feeling the slight rasping from the binding on her sensitive clit. She let out a shuddering moan. Her clit rubbed up against the handle, and she felt a mild, delightful friction against her quivering skin. She held the handle at right angles to her pussy, with the racquet head pressing into her breasts. The strings caught her sensitive nipples on the upstroke as she bent her back to bring them closer to the racquet.
As she increased the pace the roughness of the binding sent shivers of pleasure through her pussy and through her whole body. She arched her spine so her hips pushed forward to better bring the handle into contact with her throbbing pussy. Her thighs clasped around the handle and she felt her breath coming more quickly. She was fucking a tennis racquet, and her orgasm wasn’t far off. Her stomach trembled, and through fluttering eyelids she saw John could see it too.
“Sally, I want you to feel as if you are in the zone,” John told her. “In the zone,” he repeated. “You know you have to do as I say, you must obey?” he said.
“Uh, yes sir,” Sally managed to say as she rode the cusp of an orgasm, her body tensing while her mind relaxed.
“In the zone,” said John, and Sally nodded blankly.
“Obey me,” said John to the glistening naked woman on the brink of orgasm before him, “and cum now.”
Sally gasped as her body responded instantly to John’s command. She came hard, pressing her clit onto the rough handle of the racquet and feeling her pussy contracting around it. Her eyes slammed shut as she came and she moaned, her panting sighs replaced by an urgent cry. Her breasts jiggled and she felt them rub against the head of the racquet. She felt wave after wave break over her, and her whole body seemed to glow from the explosion of lust in her pussy.
John just watched as Sally enjoyed her orgasm. When the spasms had subsided she let the racquet slip away from her pussy and spread her legs wide with a contented sigh.
“Very, very good girl,” John said eventually, and Sally turned her flushed face towards him, beaming with pride at his satisfaction with her obedience, still enjoying the slowly fading afterglow of a long-overdue orgasm.
“That covers your work/pleasure balance, for now,” said John, and Sally simply nodded as she was still recovering her breath.
“I mentioned that I also wanted to discuss hygiene with you, if you recall?” John continued.
Sally nodded, still flushed but now able to speak again. “Yes sir,” she confirmed.
“Look at my chest,” said John, and Sally raised her downturned, panting head to look at her coach’s bare chest. “When I played professionally I shaved my body hair, my legs and chest. Body hair makes it harder to wash off the sweat after a session, and it makes massage more difficult.”
Sally nodded, her vision drifting over her coach’s broad, hairy chest and torso; she shaved under her arms and shaved her legs regularly, partly for those very reasons and partly because it made her feel more attractive.
John went on; “You obviously don’t have the same problem with chest hair, and you have done a good job on most of your body hair.”
“Most, sir?” Sally said, worried about an unknown inadequacy.
“I like my students to be clean shaven, and all of the same reasons for shaving your legs apply to your pubic hair, Sally,” John explained. She looked down at the fuzz of blonde hair above her pussy. “Didn’t you realise?” John added incredulously.
Sally had not realised, but she did now – and was mortified. How foolish and lazy of her not to have properly shaved her own body. She studied the patch of hair, trimmed but unshaven. It really was pointless and unnecessary, and John was right; she should shave it off. When she looked back up to apologise he was already taking out a razor and scissors from his bag, and a can of shaving cream.
“Do you have your own shaving kit with you?” John asked.
“No, sir,” said Sally, “I’m really sorry, I didn’t think…”
“That’s ok, Sally,” said John, cutting off her apology. “We’ll use my kit, but in future I want you to be clean shaven all over, not just where you can be bothered shaving. Okay?”
“Yes, sir, of course,” said Sally, smiling with relief at John’s patience with her. She held out her hands for the kit, but John instead approached her and kneeled on the floor in front of her.
“Spread your legs,” he said.
“Yes sir,” said Sally, withdrawing her hands. Then she held them out again. “Shouldn’t I…?”
“Since you’ve not done it before, I’m going to do it for you,” said John. “Pay attention, Sally, as you’ll have to do it yourself in future. Remember, it’s all to help you get in the zone.”
“Yes sir,” said Sally, nodding gratefully at his offer of a demonstration and settling back to let her coach go to work. She leant back so she could slide her ass forward on the bench and give her coach better access to her pussy.
“Good girl,” said John, and proceeded to trim the hair down to a length suitable for shaving. Sally waited patiently, hands on her thighs, staring forward and thinking about nothing in particular, other than how silly she had been not to think to do this before. She soon heard the scoosh of shaving foam, and felt it cool against the still-sensitive skin beneath her stomach. John lathered her up expertly, covering every inch of skin with hair on it meticulously.
Sally blushed; the gliding pressure above her pussy was very pleasant, and she was finding herself getting turned on again. She felt embarrassed; not because she was aroused; that was healthy, and she had already masturbated in front of her coach, after all; but because John was trying to help her with her hygiene and she could only think about her own pleasure.
John then raised the razor and brought it down over her skin in short strokes, flicking off the mixture of foam and hair every few seconds. The chafing sensation was deeply arousing, the blade causing vibrations in her skin as it cut off every tiny hair. Sally ached to touch herself, but she mustn’t; John was trying to teach her about the benefits of good hygiene. But despite knowing this, Sally still felt waves of pleasure radiate through her.
Sally felt somewhat disappointed when John scraped away the last of the foam, and the last of her pubic hair with it. However her sigh caught in her throat, coming out as a little gasp of pleasure when John unexpectedly raised a towel to her pussy and rubbed away the remaining flecks of foam.
“It’s ok,” John said, to the blushing girl as he straightened up and looked down at her red face. “You can enjoy this, its all about a work/pleasure balance. Just because you have to shave doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it.”
“Oh, thank you sir,” said Sally, beaming at the generosity of her coach. She slid a hand closer to her glowing pussy, looking up at John for permission to touch herself.
“Not now,” said John, and Sally withdrew her hand compliantly, her disappointment nothing compared to her wishes to trust and obey her coach. “Maybe later,” John said graciously, “achieving a balance means you can’t have too much of one thing.”
“Yes sir,” said Sally, mentally agreeing that she should only masturbate within reason, and when John told her to. “Sorry sir.”
“Another point about hygiene,” said John; “I watched you at our last session, and I don’t think you’re showering thoroughly enough. In fact, since you have not even shaved your body hair properly before now then I don’t see how you can be. I just don’t know what to do.” John added, sounding disappointed, and Sally hung her head. When she did so she noticed her newly shaven pussy. It looked good; streamlined, athletic, clean.
“If you don’t wash off all the sweat after a session you will get a rash,” John chastised her. “Not only will that make playing uncomfortable, but it will affect your concentration. You’ll find it harder to get into the zone.”
“Sorry sir,” Sally said, and as she relaxed a marvellous idea came to her. What if John were to show her how to shower properly? She didn’t dare to suggest it, but her heart leapt as after a long pause, John came to the same realisation.
“So, for your own good, I’m going to shower with you today,” John stated.
Sally’s enthusiasm was obvious as she nodded agreement. “Yes sir,” she said, “thank you sir.”
“Showers,” ordered John, and the naked woman’s breasts bounced as she eagerly sprang to her feet. John followed close behind, and Sally heard him pause to remove the last of his own clothes. They were now both totally naked. Of course, thought Sally, he could hardly have a shower with clothes on!
She switched on the shower, and threw her shoulders back to enjoy the sudden deluge of hot water against her oil and sweat soaked skin, running down her body to her sex-soaked pussy, rushing off her groin and down her legs to the tiled floor.
“Show me,” John said, and passed her the soap, and she began to work it over her body, scrupulously covering every last inch of herself, bending and twisting, her hips swinging and her breasts bouncing as she hurried to please her coach.
“Good,” said John, “but you are rushing it. Here,” he said, holding out his hand. Sally passed him the soap, and John moved behind her, brushing against her soap streaked hips as he did so. She felt his cock brush against her; it was hard, but the thought slipped from her mind. It wasn’t important.
John started on her back, working up the soap with great vigour into a smooth, thick lather and spreading it thickly over the long, tanned expanse of skin. He worked expertly, just as good at this as he had been at massage. Then he reached round, and with bubble filled hands worked the soap into her shoulders, then down her sides. At her hips they changed direction, gliding back upwards over her taut stomach to her breasts. John took one of her breasts in each hand, and slowly rubbed them round and around, smearing them with soapy water until they shone.
“You’ve got large breasts,” John explained, “They could cause you all sorts of problems athletically. So you need to take good care of them. Wash them all over,” he added, letting his fingers drift underneath their lower curves to work the soap into the area underneath her breasts.
“Yes sir,” said Sally, her nipples stiffening as John’s fingers slipped over them again and again. Just as Sally began to sag with pleasure, John’s hands moved again, sliding down her stomach, and between her legs. She could feel the newly shaven skin above her pussy sting slightly to the touch, the hot water making it turn red. But the prickling feeling felt pleasurable and Sally slowly began to grind her pussy onto John’s hand.
Sally’s legs quivered from his firm, rhythmic touch, and she pushed her ass back until she felt it rest up against John’s body. She enjoyed the feeling and sank down slightly as she spread her legs to give him better access. She could also feel his erect cock lying between her ass cheeks and sliding up her back, though that wasn’t important.
“Stand straight,” John commanded, and Sally stood to attention, her thighs closing around John’s hand and John’s cock dropping back down to lie in between the globes of her ass. John pulled his hand out of the tight, slippery clamp of Sally’s upper legs, and Sally sighed with pleasure at the friction.
John then washed the soap from his hands and began the process all over again, this time scooping up water and running it over her slippery body until her tanned flesh was completely clean.
“Sally, turn around,” said John, and finished washing her breasts and stomach where he could see them. When he finished he stood back and looked her up and down. She felt absolutely pristine, glowing.
John smiled at his happy, relaxed student.
“You will have noticed this,” he said, gesturing to his cock. Sally had, but of course it wasn’t important.
“I want you to stay in the zone, Sally, and tell me why you think I have a hard cock.”
Sally relaxed, and struggled to wrap her mind around this. It wasn’t important, but there it was, all the same. Why?
“I suppose…” she began, fidgeting as she stalled for time, “well…um,” she shrugged hopelessly.
“You don’t know,” said John.
“Sorry, sir,” said Sally, bewildered.
“It’s because you are attractive, and although I’ve been doing my best to help you work on your work/pleasure balance, your cleanliness and your stretch routine, the fact remains that I am a man and that you are an attractive woman.”
Sally blushed at the compliment. “Thank you, sir.”
“And you are being very professional about it Sally,” John added, “I’m very proud of you,”
“Thank you, sir,” Sally repeated, blushing deeper. Her eyes were fixed on John’s erect cock now, now that it seemed more important to notice it.
“No need to thank me, Sally,” said John, “That’s just how it is. Now, this actually works in your favour, because although solo masturbation is a stress relieving activity in itself, when you have a partner it makes it even better. Like tennis; you can practise on your own, but to get really good you need to train with a coach.”
Sally nodded her understanding.
“So, for your own benefit, and because you were so stressed when you came to me for coaching, I am going to let you masturbate. But I am going to give you something to focus on, a repetitive action, to help you get in the zone.” He gestured to his erect cock. “I want you to suck my cock while you masturbate. You may begin whenever you like.”
“Thank you sir,” said Sally, sinking to her knees on the wet floor straight away. John was so kind, helping her beat her stress and get in the zone by letting her suck his cock. She crawled over to him, reaching up with one hand while guiding the other to her pussy. She closed her lips around the head of John’s cock and sighed as she felt the remnants of stress melt away.
“Good girl,” said John, dropping his hand to the back of her head, planting it firmly over her wet, blonde hair and pushing, indicating that she should take his cock in further. Sally obeyed, and her lips were forced wide apart as John’s cock slid deep into her wet mouth.
Sally furiously rubbed at her pussy as she licked and sucked, and her groin throbbed in time to the bobbing of her head. A wave of pleasure rushed over her every time she felt John’s cock pushing against the roof of her mouth; it made her feel full and satisfied.
“Sally, you are a very good girl,” said John, making her flush with pleasure and joy, “But I need to check that this is helping you beat your stress. Okay?”
“Uh huh,” said Sally indistinctly, her voice sounding wet and sloppy and far off due to the cock filling her mouth. She would have agreed to anything John said, she was so relaxed and obedient.
“If you are very relaxed,” John continued, “you should be able to gulp. If you are in the zone, you should be able to gulp. Do it now.”
Sally felt a compulsion to swallow, and did so, drawing the head of John’s cock deep into her throat. It was so big and it was lodged down her throat so she couldn’t breathe. She felt entirely calm though, holding it there for several seconds, holding her breath, until her throat relaxed naturally and John’s erect cock slid back out of her throat into her mouth. She breathed in a lungful of air, and let it out with a sigh of utter bliss.
“Good girl,” said John, stroking the back of her head. “Again.”
Sally gulped again, and felt John’s cock oscillate over the back of her throat as the peristalsis pulled it back as far as it would fit. It was so tight, it must feel amazing for John, Sally thought. She felt a wave of satisfaction knowing that helping her beat her stress made John happy too, with her mouth locked tight around his cock and her lips pressed up against the hilt. She relaxed, and felt the ridges of her throat up against the thick cock as it slid back into her mouth. She sucked in her cheeks so she could feel it from all sides, and it throbbed over her tongue.
Sally had continued to rub her clit, now sliding three fingers up inside herself, but although she was burning with lust and the need for release she couldn’t orgasm. It didn’t feel right; she ought to wait for John to tell her that she was allowed.
“I want you to orgasm when you taste my semen,” said John, second-guessing what she was thinking about like the perfect coach he was. “And swallow all of it,” he added. “You don’t want to have to wash yourself all over again.”
He was such a considerate coach, thought Sally, thinking of her like that. Her head bobbed and her tongue flicking with renewed vigour, trying to bring her coach and herself to orgasm as instructed.
John tensed, and Sally felt his cock spasm in her mouth. She clamped her lips down over it so it would stay lodged in her mouth, and felt the first blast of hot cum spray from his cock, hitting the back of her throat. She could feel the heat from it, the thick liquid warmth, and the taste…
…drove her over the edge of her own orgasm. She struggled to keep the pulsing cock in her mouth as she humped her own hand, legs shaking and breasts wobbling as her whole body shook with climax and she moaned over the cock that gagged her. But she did hold it in, even running her lips up and down the shaft to draw as much semen from John’s balls as possible. When the spasms subsided the inside of her mouth felt as if was coated with cum, her tongue was drenched in it, and Sally let John’s cock slide to the opening of her mouth as she slowly, deliberately, swallowed.
She felt so relaxed, so happy, as the warm, thick liquid slipped down her throat with a single wet glug. John’s cock slid out of her mouth, a strand of saliva and semen breaking off as he stood back. Sally looked up at him from her knees, and John looked down at her, looking so proud. She smiled as she drew a finger up her chin to suck the saliva back into her mouth, and tasted her own pussy on her hand.
“Good girl,” John said. “Benefits for both of us; and the protein’s good for you too; all part of the balance.”
“Yes sir,” Sally said.
“Dry yourself,” said John, and Sally rose to her feet a little unsteadily, her knees stiff from their time spent against the hard tiled floor and her legs still wobbly from the force of her second orgasm. She followed John, and accepted a towel from him with thanks.
“If you recall, I mentioned to you that I also wanted to discuss our professional relationship,” John said as they towelled themselves.
“Yes sir?” said Sally.
“I just told you to suck my cock, and you obeyed. You will do anything I tell you to, won’t you Sally?” John asked.
“Oh yes sir,” Sally enthusiastically confirmed as she rubbed the towel over her bare stomach. “Anything.”
“Good. So doesn’t that mean that I am your master?” He asked. Sally nodded; she could see that it did. “You are my student, and I am your master,” he explained. “Call me master from now on. You are in the zone, and it is a pledge of obedience and a sign that you will follow my commands without hesitation.”
“Yes master,” said Sally. It made absolute sense. Of course John is my master, she thought. I just obeyed an order to suck his cock, so he must be my master; it would be ridiculous to think anything otherwise.
“Who am I?” John asked.
“You are my master,” Sally replied simply.
“Yes Sally, I am,” John agreed, and it made Sally feel so happy that her master accepted her submission. “Get dressed,” said John.
“Yes master,” said Sally, savouring the new word as it came out of her mouth. It felt so right.
As she dressed, her master spoke to her; “Sally, until our next session you will study hard and remember what we discussed about a work/pleasure balance. Call a friend, do something you enjoy, and have a productive and enjoyable couple of days. At our next session we will discuss your upcoming competition. The thought of it will not cause you any stress.”
As John was speaking, Sally had been pulling her panties up her legs to her still-sensitive, newly-shaven pussy, fastening her bra over her large breasts and pulling on her outside clothes. All of her master’s words sank into her head as if they were her own deep-seated convictions. She said; “yes master,” and it felt like the act of verbally accepting her master’s orders had scorched them indelibly into her mind.
Sally left her session feeling relaxed, secure in the knowledge that her master would give her the orders she needed to stay in the zone, and she was very satisfied and happy.