Of course, that meant I couldn’t hear anyone else, either. I wandered through another set of doors into the prop room, and was stunned again by both...the smell and the colours. Racks covered the walls, and stood in what seemed random arrangements on the floors, all filled with costumes on hangers. Various pieces of clothing donated or created over the years, for countless productions, some of which might even have had some class. The costumes were arranged in styles, but colours clashed. It would be wrong to get involved with her married coach, but such a sexy fantasy was difficult not to entertain. Just the thought of being the team slut made Brandy feel naughty, and she wanted to hold on to that feeling. "I just want to swim, Sir. I'll do anything you ask."Her coach smiled again, giving her a sexual thrill. He was in control now, and that made Brandy feel safe as well as sexy. As long as she held on to Mr. Thurman, he would not let her fall. She had learned that during his. (Did I mention that Mark isn't heavy on brain power, although with a body like his, brains don't really matter all that much.)Anyway I had a plan and I put it into action three days before the prom. My shiny little Porsche conveniently wouldn't start late that afternoon while I was out in the countryside. (Just about everything here is country, being that we live in Madera California about 30 miles north of Fresno. In the middle of fucking nowhere!)So following my carefully laid plan I called. Then i took my now finished toast and buttered it liberally. I poured myself a glass of skim milk and enjoyed my quick and easy breakfast. Sharron was clanking around the living room and giving low curses as she presumably tried to gather her clothes from the floor where she had discarded them the previous night. We had went to a club and didn’t get home until around 1 am. She had drunkenly stripped her way through the apartment to her room. Where she then proceeded to pass smooth out exactly.