Thankfully, she does!

Coach Lash stared into Tom's eyes, fingers still gently fondling the mushroom-shaped head of his turgid cock. Her rough fingers made a ring around the head as she lightly scritched her short fingernails up its velvety surface. Tom involuntarily felt a groan emerge from his throat.

Her face still dead serious, the coach let go of his dick, leaving it feeling cold and lonely. She placed her other hand, the one without precum on it, on his shoulder, rubbing it a bit. Tom winced in anticipation of his potential arrest, but... He was surprised when she smiled.

"Eh, that's as reasonable an explanation as I can expect. I mean, you're still wet from that shower so I can't exactly argue it. Besides, Tom, you're notoriously prudish, and waaay out of Whitney's league." The shortstack geek winced, despite how true the statement was. I mean, Tom wasn't a jerk, but it was just a general result of social status at the school.

Coach Lash's hand gently rubbed from Tom's shoulder to his chest, trailing slowly down his stomach. "I'll take you both to the coaches' office. I can grab Tom something to wear and use Coach Dunn's sewing kit to fix Whitney's blouse." Wait, the sewing kit in the office belonged to the men's coach? "Follow me."

Tom didn't have to. He tensed, giving a jump when her hand, already at his waist, grabbed his hard shaft. She turned and held it as the three walked, leading Tom down the perimeter of the soccer field by his dick!

Whitney was staring in awe at the way Coach Lash was manhandling Tom's hard cock. She was walking alongside Tom, but her head was turned to the side like she couldn't take her eyes off it. It was probably to be expected that this resulted in her walking right into an awning beam on the way into the gym. The impact caused Whitney to recoil backward off her bouncy tits, almost like they were rubber balls. She landed on her back, the rest of the remaining buttons on her shirt popping off. Her glasses also landed a few feet away.

Tom reflexively ran from Coach Lash's hold, wincing only slightly when her fingers rubbed against his hard shaft when it left her grip. He knelt down to pick up Whitney's glasses, ignoring his hard cock between his legs, tapping against his stomach and thighs. He stood and ran to Whitney, boner swinging in front of him as he knelt and gently placed the round frames over her nose and ears.

Whitney's chocolate cheeks were flushed at the gesture of tenderness. She was sitting on the ground and without her blouse to hold them back, Tom could see just how enormous the girl's boobs were in their industrial grade bra. He felt more justified about the ogling when he realized that, with her glasses back, Whitney was also staring at his naked penis throbbing between his legs with no pretense of propriety. He had to admit, knowing this clothed (well, mostly) girl was in front of him, seeing him completely naked... His dick gave a lurch, sending a string of pre swinging in front of him and causing an audible gasp from Whitney at the sight of the unprovoked genital movement.

"C'mon, you two, or I might actually change my mind about this not bein' some kind of kink play!"

Coach Lash's call caused Tom and Whitney both to jump in alarm, complete with dick and tit bounce. The naked man stood and offered the buxom black girl a hand to help her up. Another blush came to her round cheeks as she took it. He suppressed a moan when his dick brushed against her bra-clad tits as she rose. Yeah, he wasn't always this much of a gentleman but... He was getting away with his CFNM fantasy in front of two girls all thanks to Whitney's absentminded mistake, meaning he had all the plausible deniability he wanted.

The naked man turned and followed Coach Lash into the gymnasium with Whitney. She pointed at two metal folding chairs just outside the office she shared with the men's coach, Coach Dunn. "Gimme your blouse and I'll fix it, Cow Tits. I'll be out with it soon and with some cover for Boner Boy here."

If Tom didn't know any better, he'd swear the coach was trying to prolong his nudity... Hopefully she'd think he was too embarrassed and intimidated to object.

Speaking of embarrassed, despite how little it covered, Whitney whimpered as she obediently pulled her blouse down her arms and handed it to Coach Lash. The coach disappeared into the coaches' office, the click of the door locking from the inside causing Whitney to squeak in fear.

The naked, hard, and dripping man moved to sit on the chair farther from the office door, legs spread and his dick beating like a heartbeat straight up between his toned thighs. His bare feet on the smooth gym floor, his bare ass and balls on the metal chair, his bare back against the metal backrest, the feel of the gymnasium air against his nude body... Damn, this was exhilarating! Tom was gonna masturbate to this memory for years to come! What he wouldn't give to experience similar situations!

Oh, and of course, having his tumescent, naked prick being stared at lustfully by a clothed, buxom girl was just another major part of the experience! Otherwise he'd just be a lone streaker, rather than a supposedly accidental CFNM situation.

Even though she'd hopped onto the chair next to Tom, it was like Whitney couldn't take her eyes off his cock... It was nice, but... The way she was cradling her bra-clad breasts like she was trying to hug the massive funbags for security, Tom wasn't sure if she was aroused or even more mortified than Tom's naked, blushing ass.