Turned on but afraid of a lawsuit!

"What the fuck," my coach panted. "What the fuck? What the fuck..."

I realized for the first time that he was almost as red as I was. I played the last few minutes back in my mind.

"Coach..." I said quietly.

"Stacy, I..."

"Coach? You just..."

"Fuck!" he shouted. "Shit. I couldn't help myself! Fuck, Stacy, I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me..."

_The pheromones! _I reminded myself. He literally couldn't help himself!

"Coach Summerville," I said again.

"Stacy, I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," he said, flopping back in his desk chair, running his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, and looking at me (despite his best efforts) with eyes still smoldering with lust.

"Well, sir," I said. "Now you know how I feel."

There was silence for a moment.

"Tell you what, sir," I said. "If you forget what happened earlier, I can forget what happened just now."

"Yeah!" he gasped. "Yeah, OK!"

"And," I added. "I'm going to need regular breaks every two hours."

"No problem," Coach Summerville stated, relieved that I wasn't marching straight down to the Title IX office.

"And if I think you're going too hard on me... or the other girls..." I said, actually smiling a bit, "Then you may get another visit from me at 10 minutes past the hour, and I may not be so forgiving that time."

He stared at me, ashen-faced. Yeah, I was being a jerk to him, taking advantage of his biological inability to resist my newly-enhanced pussy. But it's nice to be on the other side, you know?

"OK," he said. "No problem."

"Thanks, Coach!" I chirped. I hopped out of my chair and exited his office, his door and his mouth both hanging wide open.