The Lighthouse Ch. 01

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Big Tits

Edited, and surely not for the last time.

* * * * * * *

Ethan stood, staring at the white marker board cluttered with the red X’s and blue O’s of the past hour’s offensive scheming. His thoughts, however, had drifted some while ago, lost in a vast realm of uncertainty. It happened often anymore.

He wasn’t double-minded. Focus, determination, persistence, and ambition were among his chief attributes and for years they had drove him. He believed success was all he needed, and it showed, as many painted him its archetype. But where Ethan struggled to succeed was in answering a lingering question: Does it matter?

He felt empty.

The shelves of his office were filled with trophies, plaques and accolades of the past. A lifetime of achievements all on display. They once meant something to him, something he measured his worth by — the scales of recognition and accomplishment. Now, he seen them as nothing more than relics: inflaming his bitterness and reminded him of just how fleeting life is.

What have I really done with my life?

His peers, colleagues and rivals envied him — never having achieved half of what Ethan had — but admired and respected him all the same. How could they have known the kind of fortitude required to steel a contender into a champion? The kind of fortitude that forged Ethan into who he was. And yet Ethan seen nothing of himself worthy of recognition or envy.

Something in him had changed. Something in a place of himself that he never knew existed before. The place where he felt the tug of conflict raging inside himself.

Why do I feel like something’s missing? Why do I feel like I’m going to be staring at this damn board year after year trying to achieve . . . what? Another trophy? Another title? A legacy?

His thoughts tore at him, chipping into the recesses of his mind. The tension inside him mounted up, spilling over onto the surface. He grit his teeth and clenched his fist around the whistle that dangled about his neck.

Now what? Where do I go from here?

A knock on the door quelled the riot in his mind.

“It’s open,” he responded. His eyes exchanged glances from the white board in front of him to the form looming in his door frame as it swung open.

It was Tiffany.

“Hey Coach. Got a minute?”

He let out a slow breath. Anxiety passing, he replied, “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“I wanted to check in with you. See how the guys are shaping up this year. Think you’ll take home another one of those?” She nodded at the lowest shelf, lined with championship trophies. His reputation wasn’t lost on her, though she was in her first year coaching the Ladies team.

“We’ll see.” Was all he said. Though he wanted to add, “If they can keep their heads out of their asses” but thought better of it.

“So,” she took a few steps over to the chair in front of his desk and sat down, “I’ve noticed lately that you and I keep about the same hours.” Ethan had watched her moved and turned around to face her. “I don’t know about you, but it would help me out a lot if I could save a buck here or there. So I was wondering if perhaps you would like to carpool.” She paused, fidgeting in the chair. “We could give it a test run first, if you want.”

Ethan’s eye caught the shift in her gaze. Her hand reached for the whistle she had around her neck and pulled on it. The flaccid cord tightened. Ethan realized she had mirrored his posture and that she seemed almost worried or nervous about something. Perhaps she just didn’t want to be rejected. Who does?

“Uh, sure. I don’t see why not.” He shrugged. “At the very least if it doesn’t work out, then we could always go back to driving ourselves.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he gave it a little more thought, but answered quicker than his mind had time to process.

Her face lit up. “Great! I’ll pick you up in the morning and take the first week’s shift then. How does seven sound?” She leaned forward and pulled the whistle back and forth like a swinging pendulum around her neck, noticeably displaying her cleavage down the tank top she had worn for practice.

Ethan’s breath left him a moment. Caught somewhere between the desire to stare and the will not to. He choked down whatever was in his throat and cleared it a couple times, gaining a brief moment of time and hoping she didn’t notice. “Yep. Sounds good.”

Satisfied, she let go of the whistle and popped her hands on her thighs as she stood up. She smiled. Her eyes watching him as she left — a small yet noticeable sway in her hips.

Ethan, once Betturkey again alone, returned to the white marker board and tried to pick up where he had left off, but the X’s and O’s seemed to make even less sense than before.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Julianne held her hand to her hip as she stirred the noodles in the big pot on the stove. With the kids grown and out of the house, it seemed quiet. Ethan had not yet made it home and she looked, once again, at the clock on the stove. It seemed that his days were growing later and later, minute by minute.

She picked the pot up from off the heat of the burner and carried it over to the sink, containing a strainer in the middle of it, and strained the water from the noodles. Setting the pot down, she placed her hands on the counter in front of her and lowered her head, taking a deep breath. It didn’t help. The knot she felt in her stomach was now growing into her throat. She didn’t want to cry.

“Don’t cry,” she told herself. She had spilled enough tears over the past several years, yet still the tears formed and slipped silently down her cheeks. She couldn’t stop them from spilling out.

The sob that had formed in her chest, was heaving out of her breath through the pain that was now growing in her throat. She looked at the clock through tear stained eyes. I have to pull myself together. No more crying. That’s enough. That’s enough for today. “Ha.” She laughed softly to herself, wiping at her nose. “That’s enough for a lifetime, really.”

She straightened herself up and squared her shoulders, pressing them back, then closed her eyes and took a deep, slow breath. In through her nose and out through her mouth. After a couple more drawls she felt once again in control of herself, and pressed on.

She rummaged around the kitchen drawer, finding a pair of tongs amidst the other utensils, and filled two plates full of noodles. After carrying the plates over to the dinner table and placing them down across from one another, she took another deep breath — just to be certain she really was in control of her emotions — before glancing out the window.

He should be here any minute now.

Her mind, especially in this cold silence, found deviant ways of occupying itself. None of which Julianne considered pleasant, so she focused on herself.

She walked the few brief steps from the kitchen to the hall and checked her reflection in the hallway mirror. She looked a mess. “Seriously, Julianne.” She huffed to herself as she dabbed the corners of her eyes and patted her cheeks, then fluffed her hair. Vaguely satisfied, she turned and went back into the kitchen and sat down at the table..

Waiting on Ethan had become a theme in her life lately and as she sat there, she couldn’t help herself as she checked the time once more. Her stomach growled. It was insisting she eat, but she denied it. She rolled her head back onto her shoulders and glanced at the ceiling for a moment before closing her eyes and exhaling another long, slow breath.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Ethan pulled up next to Julianne’s car in the driveway. He didn’t know why, but he felt fatigued. Perhaps it was the monotony of routine wearing him thin. He ran his hand along her car as he walked passed, sighed and went inside.

He put his things down, took off his shoes and walked into the kitchen, taking a big whiff of air. “Mm-mm. Something smells good.” His stomach growled. “What’s for dinner?”

Julianne had heard him at the door and had already gotten up, awaiting his arrival and his embrace. She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Kissing his jaw. “Just a little Italian dish I whipped up. It’s new. I hope you like it.”

He thought about what “new” might mean and cocked a brow. He hated the unexpected when he was like this — moody — and suddenly felt like he was on a game show. Waiting to be asked if he’d like to take what’s behind curtain one or curtain two. Knowing that behind one of those curtains, was something very disappointing.

He really didn’t want to be disappointed tonight.

“I bet it’ll be great.” He hoped. “Let’s eat.”

He led the way to the table and sat down. Julianne took her seat across from him, slowly.

There were moments when she didn’t know how to respond to Ethan. Sometimes he was the easiest, most delightful person to get along with. Other times he was implacable and felt as if she could do nothing right in his eyes.

Ethan took a bite as she waited. “Please like it. Please like it.” She mumbled to herself as she watched.

He Betturkey Giriş looked up, nodding his head. “Not bad. I like it.”

Relief swept over her and she picked up her fork. She loved this part of the evening. The quiet dinner and conversation.

“You’ll never guess what happened today,” she said. “Regina came in with two boys bleeding — one with a cut above his eye, the other with a bloody nose — and told me that they had gotten into a fight. Well, of course that was easy to assume from the looks of ’em, but you’ll never guess what it was about.” She waited a moment and when he didn’t venture a guess, continued. “They got into it over a teacher. Apparently, both boys thought she looked like a supermodel and started talking about how hot she was and the fight broke out over which one of them would be most likely to get into her panties.” Julianne laughed. The ridiculousness of it all.

Men! They only have one head sometimes.

Ethan smiled and kept eating, preoccupied in his own thoughts. Normally he would have said something or at the very least laughed — after all, he was typically the one informing her about these kind of stunts, usually regarding his players — but he made no acknowledgment other than a slight, slow nod of his head.

She left it alone and ate her noodles. The list of complaints and issues she had dealt with, from both teachers and parents, could wait. As principal, it was a never ending cycle of verbal shit constantly being spewed onto her. That’s what made this time so important to her. It was when she felt at ease enough to relax, to unburden her mind and heart from the day’s toll; and Ethan was a great listener, most of the time. She looked up from her plate and seen that Ethan was nearly finished with his.

Ethan was having trouble forming the words he wanted to say. He knew what he should say, but didn’t know how to phrase it without sounding as if he had ulterior motives. He bounced from thought to thought, weighing them each in progression as he ate quietly. How do I tell her? How do I reassure her that Tiffany and I are just carpooling without it sounding like we’ve decided to start dating?

It was innocent. It was. All she had asked was if he’d be interested in saving money. And who couldn’t use a little more savings? The economy was rough, though it hadn’t made a big impact on him.

The end of his fork clanked against the porcelain dish. There was nothing left on his plate but the white peeking through the blotches of sauce he had added to his noodles. He looked up, feeling Julianne’s eyes on him. She tilted her head and smiled. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

What was she thinking? What was she feeling, right now, at this moment?

“Hey.” He grasped for words. Hoping he could make it through without appearing to be a bumbling idiot. He had to just get it out there. “Tiffany came by my office today.”

Julianne arched her brow. She was interested, but having another coach come by his office was nothing new. He had many coaches — both male and female — come by his office over the years. She took another bite and waited to see where he was going with this.

“She wanted to know if I’d be interested in carpooling. With her. Said she needed to save some money.”

Okay . . . now what? Do you have a point here? Just get it out there and on the table.

He repressed a grin, thinking about what putting it, literally, on the table would look like. “I know the school isn’t very far, but I told her I would . . . if that’s alright?” It came out like a frail plea.

Man up, dammit!

“Just to help her out, you know?” He said.

He pushed aside some of the sauce on his plate with his fork, drawing lines through it, and readjusted his posture. There, he said it . . . but she hadn’t said anything back.

“She’s suppose to meet me here in the morning to pick me up. She said she’d take the first week’s shift.”

He thought she was finally going to say something as she set her fork down and grabbed her wine glass, taking a long, slow sip. Make that three.

Ethan waited.

“Well,” she finally said, “I can’t say I know her all that well, but she seems nice. How well do you know her?”

“What do you mean? I barely know her at all, but I doubt she’s going to kill me, if that’s what you’re asking.”

She smiled, though she wasn’t amused.

“I mean, what do you know of her? What is she like? How is she with others? You know, is she someone you think you can put up with day in, day out?”

Ethan understood. Julianne Betturkey Güncel Giriş knew him and knew him well. He was a moody person, though most didn’t see the darker, cynical side of him. He wore facades like villains wore masks but they rarely, if ever, fooled Julianne.

“What I know, is that her players like her. They respond well to her coaching. The rest of the faculty seem to get along with her, from what I can tell. At least I’ve not heard any complaints or horror stories.” He tilted his head and gave a little shrug. “Like I said, it’s not like the school is an hour or even thirty minute drive. I can put up with anything for under thirty minutes.” He gave her a light-hearted smile. “Besides, if she turns out to be a serial killer, I’ll kill her first. Okay?”

She loved Ethan. He had a way of taking life in strides that fascinated her. She knew he’d be okay and that he’d be more than able to take care of himself and that he could think and make decisions for himself, but she really wanted him to reject Tiffany’s offer. She had no reason, other than maybe jealousy, that she could think of, but jealousy itself wasn’t enough. She couldn’t think of anything else but the two of them carpooling alone, so she asked, “Is anyone else in on this? Or is it just going to be the two of you?”

His smile vanished as he seemed to think it over. “I’m not sure. She asked me, but she may have asked a few others too. I didn’t ask.” It was his turn to take a sip of wine. “It would make sense if she had, though.”

Julianne quietly cleared her voice. “I’m sure she has.” She smiled, trying her best to appease Ethan and keep her private thoughts quietly hidden. She knew she wouldn’t get far with an argument, so she let the conversation go. She didn’t have anything more to say anyway.

Ethan smiled back at her, though he knew Julianne was begrudgingly giving him his way. He was relieved to finally have the conversation — or at least the bulk of it — over. Before she could ask any more questions or make any other comments, he got up and took his plate over to the sink. He turned the faucet on and let the water rinse the plate clear of its splotchy mess.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Lying in bed, Ethan stared at the ceiling, watching the blades of the ceiling fan whirl around — like his thoughts — in a hypnotic cycle.

Julianne, head rested on Ethan’s shoulder and arm draped over his bare chest, couldn’t sleep. The ceiling fan spun through its revolutions, a steady rhythmic noise in the room, but the nothingness surrounding that noise was creeping in.

Whispers. Doubts. Echos from their dinner conversation.

She shuddered, then decided to silence them.

Snaking her arm down Ethan’s stomach, she felt for the band around his briefs, knowing it was the only thing he had on. She tucked her fingers under the elastic and found his member. She grabbed it, squeezing it softly.

Ethan moaned. A quiet rumble in his chest. A sign of acceptance, desire for her to continue. And gladly she did.

Slowly, pulling his briefs down, she slipped under the sheets, removing the thin material from around his ankles and tossing them onto the floor. His shaft stood erect, directly in her vision, pulsating. She opened her mouth and exhaled a warm breath teasingly over the tip.

Ethan wanted to grab her face and press his cock down her throat, but refrained. He had never done anything like that, though the thought had crossed his mind on more than one occasion. No, he was always gentle with her — in every aspect of life. So, instead, he groaned again. His voice deep and low. Anticipating and hoping she would end his torture soon.

She knew what he wanted. She slid her wet lips over his precipice with a grin, pressing down smoothly. She felt him respond: raising his hips ever so slightly, softly running a hand up her arm, exhaling long breaths. She licked up, along the underside of his erection, felt it jump as she reached the tip once again, then plunged back down his flesh with her lips, filling her mouth full. Relentlessly she availed her assault. Over, over again. Until his breath became short, ragged gasps, choked in the center of his throat.

His back arched, higher off the bed. Jutting out his pelvis.

But she kept him lodged in her mouth, not allowing him to slip from her confines, pursuing her own end. His end.

Then the dam burst. A flood filled her mouth.

With eyes closed, she purred as his essence was released into her longing mouth, being fed until his throbbing subsided. Delicately, she sucked the tip of his head clean, small kisses bathing it, smacking sounds in rhythmic harmony with the whooshing blades of the ceiling fan above.

She felt warm. She felt tired.

She crawled back up to her former position and laid back down in the crook of Ethan’s arm, a content smile on her face.

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