She understands

"Of course Brian," Alice chirps agreeably. "I'd hate to see Ms. Naylor get rid of you, just as we're getting acquainted." She giggles softly and touches your chin with a forefinger, then gives a happy little sigh and glances fondly at the weight bench "That was really special," she murmurs.

She continues to show you around the complex, which impresses you favourably. This is the near equal of the college you played ball at, far more than you would expect for a private girls school. You say as much to Alice and she nods agreement.

"They have so much money here, and the donors are so generous. It seems like the only things that are old here are the things they want to keep old. The main building was built before the Civil War! Can you imagine that?"

As she speaks you stop, your attention caught by a closed door. Or to be more accurate, the gleaming brass plaque on it that reads 'Coach Watts.' Surprised you reach out and run your fingers over it as Alice gives a soft laugh beside you.

"Oh my, somebody must like you! I still don't have my name on my office door. Go on, what are you waiting for?" she urges. "Go in and take a look!"

The office is about what you expected, a plain room with a large whiteboard on one wall, and some of last season's team schedules taped up. There's little in the desk or filing cabinets except some practice plans and several years worth of game score sheets and lineup cards, and if you had to guess you'd say that Ms. Naylor seldom used the office when she was coaching.

As you look around, feeling a sense of ownership, Alice sits on the desk and watches you, swinging her legs like a little girl, a smile curling her pretty lips.

"Pretty cool, isn't it?" she laughs happily. "And private too. That will come in handy if you ever want to consult with anyone. The cheerleader coach for example," she adds coyly, winking at you.

Smiling, you step between her thighs and put your strong hands on her waist, looking down at her pretty face. "I think that the cheerleader coach and I will have to meet regularly," you say, bending your head and kissing her.

For a moment her tongue is darting and electric in your mouth, her hands tightening on your shoulders as she pulls you closer, then she breaks the kiss and gives you soft sweet smile. "We mustn't, not so soon," she murmurs. "You'll get bored with me, or think I'm cheap and easy."