Coach Ruth, the hard ass with the huge chest.

"The hell do you think you're doing Carrick, scurrying away?"

Ahh shit. Andy froze in his tracks before looking over his shoulder slowly. Yeah, he recognised that voice. Coach Emma Ruth. She stood imposingly at the steps to the school, hands on her hips, with one eyebrow raised up at Andy. Coach Ruth was pretty young, 28 years old, but she was infamous for her spartan training. She had worked the Harlan Oilers from a useless backwater group to an actually decent ****. That said, she and Andy had never gotten along. Coach Ruth did her best, but the main contributor to the team getting some success was Andrew joining it. They both knew it, and it pissed her off to no end. Andy had to admit though, he didn't make it any better, spending most of his year acting smug about it.

You know how some kids act up to get the guy or girl they like to pay attention to them? Andy was reminded of that whenever he looked at Coach Ruth. She stood there in sweatpants and a white shirt, with a hoodie wrapped around her waist. That shirt was all that kept her huge F-cup tits from coming out, and Andy couldn't help but drool whenever he saw them. She stood that glaring at him with her piercing green eyes, her brown hair tied back in a ponytail, her soft lips in a pursed frown. She crossed her arms under her chest, showing off those gorgeous tits even more. She did that a lot, and he always hoped she was doing it on purpose. He gulped loudly.

"Skulking away after all this, Carrick? You win us the damn trophy and can't be bothered to stick around to celebrate with your team?", she shouted after him. "What's with you kids these days, what the hell could be more important than getting drunk off your ass after a big win?". She rubbed the back of her head. Andrew didn't want to get caught up in a lecture, but he also didn't want to risk pissing Coach Ruth off.