If you are looking for a quick jerk, please continue looking. This is a longer story with development of characters. I debated between first time and romance, for there are elements of both here, and decided first time was the better choice. This can be a stand-alone story, but it will be more enjoyable if you read parts 1-3 first. I hope you enjoy. Comments and emails are welcomed. I strive to respond to all emails that have a return address.
Special thanks to Grand Teton for editing and making this tale readable.
With school back in full swing and volleyball practice and the upcoming sand volleyball season at hand a lot of the teasing settled down. Saturdays were still "no bra" days around the house, and the "no knot" rule on the bikinis still held, but the girls didn't have the time or energy to tease as much.
Because Katharina had signed a contract to coach next year she was ineligible for the sand volleyball season, much to Coach Thorson's disappointment. For the first time in her life, Kat was not upset about being out of competition. Sand volleyball, while fun, was not her forte. Coach Thorson had been able to keep her scholarship for the spring semester for her though and made her an assistant coach. Coach Jan Wembley, one of her assistants, had taken maternity leave, since her baby was due the first week of the sand volleyball season, and Kat was an excellent replacement.
I became something of an unofficial trainer slash manager slash gofer for the team. It was an unpaid position, of course, but when Darlene asked for my help, how could I say no?"
The girls whispered about Darlene and me for a while, because of the way Darlene's eyes followed me around, and the look she got whenever my name was mentioned. Diedra thought it funny, and she gave me all kinds of grief. "You're nothing but a cradle robber, Toomas, going after someone as young as Coach Thorson. Why, she's the same age as your oldest daughter." She would giggle and grin at me, even when I countered about spending the week with her. "Oh, but I'm mature," she would say. All I could do was shake my head. The rest of the girls may have slowed down the teasing a little bit, but Deidra did not in the least.
Katharina had met a young man during the Thanksgiving break when she volunteered at a food pantry. I was impressed when she brought Jimmy Newnan around to meet me. He was completing work for a Masters in Business Administration, focusing on non-profit functionality with a view toward consulting with small to mid-sized non-profits to develop cost-effective methods of attracting volunteers, raising and managing funds, and most of all protecting themselves from litigation. Two more opposite people cannot be imagined, but there was an obvious spark between them, and I was most happy for her. It had gotten to the point that though they had not moved in together it seemed any time Kat was not on the volleyball court or working with the team in some capacity she and Jimmy were together. I started asking her for a date to have dinner with her every week or two, or else I wouldn't even see her except at practice.
It was funny, but it seemed the rest of the team hardly dated. There was no prohibition of dating from Coach Thorson by any means, but her drive for a winning team was contagious, and the girls all seemed to have volleyball and school first and foremost in their thoughts. I spent most evenings tutoring one girl or another in physics, math, or chemistry, and often more than one. I didn't mind in the least. In fact, I enjoyed it very much.
Since my week with Deidra and dealing with my grief issue, followed by the night with Darlene, I found I was able to remember my Marja with pleasure instead of pain. Oh, I missed her desperately, but I recognized she was gone, never to return, so I returned to living my life. I did not pursue any of the girls, but I was now mentally able to more freely enjoy the teases, the hugs, and the kisses I received from nearly all of them.
Breasts were nearly always unfettered whenever I tutored the girls, and I no longer hid, or tried to hide, my enjoyment. Darlene felt her position required a bit more decorum though, which was a bit of a disappointment, but she did participate in "no bra Saturdays" to my delight and her semi-embarrassment.
After the first year the team moved to the house, Coach Thorson instituted a policy of no guys in the girls' rooms. They were welcome in the living room and den, dining room, and even in the game room/arcade I set up in the basement, but Coach was adamant about no boys going beyond that point other than for special functions, such as a bonfire and party at the swimming pond. Those functions had strict time limits, though, were alcohol free, and always ended at a reasonable hour.
Of course, the girls would occasionally stay off-site with a boyfriend, and Coach had no problem with it as long as it wasn't a time that conflicted with something with the team. Her driving force was winning volleyball games. She didn't want anything going on at the house that would distract from the main purpose.
My office was open to the girls, too, if they needed to talk. They all liked to think they were mature, grown-up young women who could handle anything, but you would be surprised at the number of times I would have a young lady sitting with me on my couch in the office, crying her eyes out, needing some "Daddy" time.
More than one of them, particularly the younger ones, came to me looking for help with planning their futures. Classes might not be going well for them, or they would find the area of study they pursued to be of less interest than they had at first thought. I never told them what they ought to do, but I would ask questions until they came up with their own answers.
All in all I found life to be fuller and more enjoyable than it ever had been while running my own company, constantly striving for the next dollar.
It was the fourth week of the new semester when Lynn, the senior setter on the regular volleyball team, knocked on my office door on Thursday evening. I knew instantly something was wrong when I looked up from some paperwork I was doing and saw she was wearing a button-up shirt buttoned all the way except for the top button. I could also tell she had on a bra, which ever since the bonfire and the institution of "no-bra Saturdays" she had never worn one around the house.
"Come on in, Lynn. You don't have to knock. What's wrong?"
Lynn sat down on the edge of my couch and wrung her hands in her lap nervously. "Can I ask your advice, Toomas? I can't go to my Dad with this, but I don't know what to do."
I got up from my desk chair and walked around to the couch. I noted the way she was seated up against the far arm of the couch, so I sat against the other arm, leaving as much space between us as I could, and turned toward her to see what I could do for her.
"I . . . I don't, uh, I don't know how to ask this, Toomas, but I don't know where to turn, and you've always been here for us." Tears started to spill over from her eyes, so I stepped over to the desk and picked up a box of tissues I kept ready for such an exigency. I set the whole box down on the cushion next to her.
"Thanks." She sniffed as she pulled out a couple of tissues to blot at her eyes. "I've been seeing this guy, and . . ." She blushed deeply, which I found surprising, for she was not in the least reserved around me normally, and was one of the bigger teases. "Well, anyway, Shawn has been pushing me to do things I don't, I don't want to do with him." Her voice was muffled by the tissues she had buried her face in. "I tried to tell him 'No,' but he wouldn't take 'No' for an answer. He even . . . he, he, . . ." Tears were flowing again and she hiccoughed when she tried to continue.
"You don't have to say, Lynn. It's OK. What can I help you with? I'll do anything for you that I can. You know that."
Sniff, "I know. That's why I'm here. I couldn't . . . I couldn't talk to my own Dad. I tried! I really tried! But he wouldn't listen to me. I'm supposed to go to Shawn's frat mixer tomorrow night. He told me his roommate was going out of town, and I was going to spend the night in his room with him. I said 'No,' but he said I owed him. After . . . after he ripped the buttons off of my shirt last night trying to get to my, to my . . ." Again she broke down in sobs.
I sat there seething in rage, but I kept my voice quiet and calm. "It's OK. You don't have to say what he did. I understand, Lynn." I wanted to reach out to her to comfort her, but I wasn't sure how she would react to being touched by a man at this point, so I kept to my end of the couch.
"I told him, I told him I wasn't going to go with him tomorrow, but he said I had to. That he had told his frat brothers about me, and that I was going to be there. He's coming to get me, and he told me I'd better be here and ready if I knew what was good for me."
For the first time, Lynn looked up at me, with her mascara running down her cheeks and her other makeup smeared on her face from the tissues. "What do I do, Toomas?" It was a wail, and she threw herself from her end of the couch down to mine and into my arms.
All I could do was hold her as she sobbed and sobbed. Gently I rubbed her back with one hand while I cradled her head against my shoulder with the other. "He's got a gun," she half-whispered, "and he said he would shoot me if I didn't go with him." My hand stopped in mid-stroke on her back. This was something else.
