My name is Loni, I'm 57 years old. Like most women my age, my big boobs hang down on my chest, I have a tummy roll, and I have to color my hair. Unlike most women, however, I've had sex with a lot of men. I could count them, if I took time to think about it, but don't really care. Let's just call it 30 plus, and leave it at that.
I was born with curly red hair, a bright red shade that attracted a lot of attention. It set off my pale skin and hazel eyes, eyes that also got attention from men. Growing up, I was taller than most girls, topping out at 5' 5". I was slender, and very much a tomboy. My boobs started to develop around age 12, and between ages 15 and 18, my boobs really grew, going from a B cup to a lush set of D cups. Of course, when that happened, the boys no longer paid attention to my hair. My hips spread, a little, but for a girl my size I had, and still have, a pretty small ass.
I'm not a dumb person, but I had troubles all through school, and was held back twice. First time was 2nd grade, due to reading problems. I was lucky, we had a very kind and helpful remedial reading counselor, and she helped me so much, enough I was able to manage from then on. Second time was 7th grade, and it was all my fault. I had an attitude, didn't do my work, and was rewarded with getting to do 7th grade over. My parents came down on me hard, and I made sure it never happened again. My grades were never great, but good enough to graduate, and even more important, good enough to stay eligible for sports. Being held back twice, plus the fact that my parents sent me to school when I was 6, meant I was 20 years old going into my senior year of high school, and would turn 21 two days after graduation.
I grew up in a Upper Midwest blue collar town, where the fathers worked for General Motors, or in one of the mills, and the moms took care of the house and family. Not sure what it was like anywhere else, but in our area, the upper class white girls played volleyball, the black girls played basketball, and girls like me played softball. We were a rough bunch, with filthy mouths, and absolute loyalty to our teammates, school, and community. We yelled at each other, in practice and games, we yelled at the coach, we yelled at the umpires, but mostly we yelled at the other teams. And of course, they yelled back. The umpires were from the area, so they were like us, and ignored the insults hurled back and forth between dugouts.
Our coach, Frank Jackson, was the biggest hard-ass ever born, and his mouth made even us blush. He didn't look the part, being 5'7" at most, with glasses, a bald head, and a bristly mustache. But in spite of his looks, he was a hell of a coach, and the school board loved him in spite of his rough edges. For the most part, we loved him too. He was hard on us, but 100% fair, and if you played hard and smart, he was your biggest fan. I was a hard-ass too, wanting not just to win, but to dominate the other team, so it was only natural that two intense personalities would clash. He and I had some titanic clashes, but we understood and respected each other. After practice, I often hung out in his office, and began to get hints his interest in me was more than professional. Being teenagers, we girls would make fun of him behind his back, and when a group of us would get together, with beer of course, we'd make up all sorts of plans to get him, usually involving giving him a blow job.
As I said, I got a lot of attention from boys. Most were too intimidated by my loud mouth and attitude, but that didn't bother the rougher guys. I'd have a boyfriend for a couple of months, then we'd get tired of each other and split up. I lost my virginity in 8th grade, and by the time senior year began, I was pretty experienced for a high school girl. I'd even dated a couple of guys from out of town, something that was unheard of, but like the rest, they couldn't handle me for long. For me, getting a guy to do what I wanted in bed was as big a thrill as hitting a home run. I seriously got off on the power I had over boys, and didn't care that all they wanted was to fuck me. After all, that was all I wanted, too.
Senior year went by fast, lots of partying and sex, until spring arrived, then I got down to business. We had another great season, wining the county title, and making it to the state tournament. I was also on track to graduate, do in part to Coach Jackson getting me into his yearbook class. For two class credits, we put together the school yearbook. I had a talent for working in the photo lab, so Coach Jackson kept me in there most of the time, and gave me an A both semesters as a reward, and a way to keep me eligible. It also gave him an excuse to be in the lab alone with me, and over that school year we had some deep conversations. I learned he and his wife didn't always get along, no surprise there, and also how much he appreciated my hard play leadership. Once games started, however, it back to business, and the conversations were all about the team, and upcoming opponents. Still, there was a lot of 'accidental" contact, brushing into me when walking past, that sort of thing, not that I minded, of course. I decided, in fact, to make a move on him if I got a chance, and see how he reacted.
Our season had ended, and there had been a huge party at the lake over the weekend. There was another week of school left, and I was in the lab, developing some pictures when I heard Coach Jackson come in. I had the curtain drawn and the red lights on, and called out to warn him I was working. The light in the outer room went out, and I heard him lock the door. Then he was behind me, looking over my shoulder.
"Hmm, not bad, that one on the left is real good, in fact. What do you think?" As he leaned forward, I felt his chest brush lightly against my back. Now, do it now, the voice in my head was screaming. I took a deep breath, and turned so i was facing him, our faces inches apart. Without stopping, I put my arms around his neck, and pulled his lips to mine. He gave a tiny jerk, then put his hands on my hips, and kissed me back. It started as a simple kiss, but then his tongue stabbed into my mouth, and I felt his body press against mine. I tongued him back, and felt his cock getting hard against me, a cock that was definitely not small.
Then, he stopped, and pushed away from me, giving me a hard look. Then, without a word, he turned and left the room. I waited until the class was almost over, and returned to the classroom, where I shot the breeze with the other kids until the bell rang. I started to get up, and Coach Jackson waved me over.
"Shut the door," he said, after the last kid had left. I shut the door, and sat down on a desk in front of him, giving him an innocent look. He stared at the ceiling for a minute, then looked at me.
"What happened, we need to keep that between you and me, okay?"
"Sure, I don't want you to get in trouble." He nodded his head at that.
"Right, because that's what it wold be, trouble. Trouble I don't want or need." I hopped down off the desk, sauntered to the door, and looked back at him over my shoulder.
"Just want you to know, I liked it, and I think you did too." Then I left the room. Nothing more happened that week, and with the weekend came graduation, followed by another big party. I thought a lot about Coach Jackson, and every time I did, I'd get excited thinking about how he took control of the situation. Then I'd laugh at how I turned it back on him. I was also curious at what he had in his pants, it had felt long and thick. The more I thought bout it, the more I wanted to do more than just kiss him. Knowing that he'd be working some at the ballfield, I started driving by, looking for his car. After a couple of days, I spied it, with no other vehicles around, so I pulled in, and walked into the maintenance building. He was in the back room, surrounded by piles of uniforms and equipment. He looked up, with a funny smile on his face.
"Hi Loni, what's up? You over your hangover yet?" I pulled up a folding chair and sat down. I had on a loose tank top, and short shorts.
