When I Saw What I Wasn't Supposed to See

Rachel Johnson was among the most popular kids in our class. Even as a kid, she had a certain swagger, confidence, and presence about her that made her stand out that made her well liked and admired by many of our peers. I was grateful that she at least gave me the time of day.

I was hardly a school pedigree and, to be honest, I was intimidated by Rachel but I was glad that she let me hang out with her around the neighborhood.

We were friends mostly because I was the brains and she was the muscled bronze. She respected me for my book knowledge and I often helped her with homework to make sure she kept the grades to play sports. That pact was the great equalizer between us and I enjoyed being needed.

But I went to the Sun Rise Lake School for Boys for high school where I could compete with a higher cumulative grade point average pool so I didn't see as much of Rachel back in Hillsboro even though I was a day student commuting back and forth to school with older guys who had cars.

Rachel became a big sports star at Hillsboro High, a standout athlete playing soccer, basketball and softball. I tried to make it to her games when I could even though I spent five hours a night hitting the books and the rest of my time in somebody's car driving back and forth to school at the lake.

I finally got my own car for junior year which gave me a little bit more freedom and independence. Rachel appreciated my presence when I showed up for her games and I enjoyed being her #1 Fan but I was hardly in her circle of friends although I continued to help her out with her schoolwork when I could.

We tried to keep Sunday as our fun day to spend some quality time together. Rachel often didn't have a game or practice on that day so unless she happened to be dating someone or doing girls stuff, I'd come over in the afternoon to hang out or to catch up with her school work.

Sometimes we'd go out for pizza or a movie on a Sunday evening if Rachel wasn't otherwise occupied. She could be herself when she was with me and worry about her school reputation or jock image. I liked that about our friendship.

Of course, I didn't hurt her reputation either – me the smart kid attending a prestigious prep school – and she didn't mind being seen with me, especially when I got my own car.

There were a few times when I brought Rachel to the Sun Rise Lake campus just to show her off and make myself look more important and popular than I really was.

At Sun Rise. everybody was smart (and most were privileged) so all of us were looking for something extra to help our individual standing and a good looking girl like Rachel by my side was my advantage.

Rachel was kind enough not to use the "just friends" death mark when she was around the Sun Rise Lake guys and I appreciated that fake front to help me look like I had something going even though Rachel and I really were 'just friends'.

I had a rare Sunday afternoon lab session one weekend but I gave Rachel a call when I got home late in the afternoon, hoping we could get together for pizza or something.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm babysitting for Coach," Rachel let me know.

"Bummer," I said, disappointed at not being able to see her. "Hey, maybe I could stop by and visit with you after the kids are in bed," I suggested.

"No, the Randalls' don't like having people in the house when they're not there," Rachel reported.

"You're there," I joked.

"Very funny," she groaned.

"Well, I guess I'll see you whenever," I replied.

"Wait a minute!" she said, apparently having second thoughts about my suggestion. "I do have this paper on The Scarlet Letter I'm writing," Rachel said. "What don't you stop by around nine for a little while," she said. "The kids will be in bed by then."

"Okay," I said with relief. "That will be great."

The Randalls lived in a nice house in the flats section of town. Even though I didn't go to Hillsboro High, I knew that Coach Randall was a big deal, successful as the Lady Hurricanes' soccer and softball teams, always fielding successful and winning squads.

Rachel was the Coach's current star player and she had been babysitting his kids fairly regularly for the past few years. The Coach's wife was well known as a popular local realtor and I'd see her name on For Sale signs all over town.

I knew where the Randalls lived because I had picked up or dropped off Rachel there a few times over the years. I parked my car a few houses down for some reason and I walked to the house, knocking on the front door instead of ringing bell as to not disturb the sleeping kids.

Rachel opened the door a few moments later, looking great as always even wearing a brown nylon Hillsboro running suit. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

She stepped back and let me in. I had never been inside the Randall house before – it was modern and well kept, with granite counter tops in the kitchen and new furniture in the rooms, wall to wall carpeting and nice artwork on the walls.

"Do you want to see The Coach's 'I Love Me' Man Cave?" Rachel asked after she gave me a quick tour of the impressive house.

"Sure," I shrugged.

She brought me into a side room that had a stone fire place on one wall. The room was full of all sorts of sports memorabilia, awards and trophies dating all the way back to Coach's little league days.

The walls were a rich, dark wood paneling lit dimly by those kind of spot lamps you'd see in museums. There were a couple of low, comfortable couches and a La-z-boy chair, as well as a desk, a small portable bar, three flat screen televisions on one of the walls, and an entertainment center.

"Jesus," I said.

"Yeah," she agreed.

It would have taken an hour to review all of the citations and certifications and trophy wording and photo captions.

"Impressive, huh?" Rachel wanted to know.

"Kind of grandiose, self-serving and narcissistic, don't you think?" I asked.

"That's what man caves are for," she said approvingly. "I think it's awesome."

"I wouldn't know," I sighed. "I'm not cool."

"You're okay," Rachel said lightly.

I was tall, skinny and self-conscious but I was smart and Rachel liked me so I was grateful for that gift.

I didn't know Coach but I heard (and read) enough about him to know he was a cool guy. Observing him at Rachel's games, he seemed to be positive and popular and well-liked by his players. His success spoke for itself and I knew Rachel idolized him because she was always talking about him and now here she was showing me his man-cave so it was pretty obvious she worshipped the guy.

"Nobody's supposed to be in here either," Rachel said, turning off the lights as we headed for the door.

Just then the front door opened.

"Shit!" Rachel stage whispered in horror, pushing me back into the dark room as she kept walking. "Coach!" She said with surprise. "I wasn't expecting you until midnight."

"I'm only here for a minute," Coach explained. "Susan wanted me to get some special wine we have for the occasion."

"Oh," Rachel said.

"Everything okay here?" Coach asked as he headed for the wine frig in the kitchen.

"Of course, yes, sure," Rachel said nervously as she followed him. "The kids were fine. Went to bed no problem….."

Her voice tailed off in the kitchen and I briefly considered making a break for it but who knew how much time I had. I could only hope that The Coach didn't need to come into his man cave for any reason.

"Okay," Coach was saying as he and Rachel returned to the living room, him with a glossy impressive looking fancy bottle of wine in his hand.

I could see them through the crack of the door.

"So, midnight then," Rachel said.

"More or less," Coach replied. Then he smiled. "But I have a few minutes now."

"You should get back," Rachel told him. "They're waiting for the wine."

Coach stepped closer to her as they stood near the couch. "You're not going to play hard to get now, are you?" He grinned. "We have to take advantage of our rare opportunities."

"I'm kind of tired," Rachel said anxiously.

"Since when?" Coach laughed, leaning in to kiss her but Rachel pulled her head back. "What in the hell is wrong with you?" He asked with annoyance.

"Nothing," she said uneasily. "It's just that the kids are upstairs and…"

"They're not going to wake up," Coach assured her. "Come on, a quickie before I go. It beats the car any day."

I felt myself swallowing my Adam's Apple. This couldn't possibly be what I feared it might be, could it?

"I think I'm going to be menstruating," Rachel told him timidly.

"That's okay," he said, leaning in and kissing her again.

"Dave, please….."

Dave!? Did she just call the Coach Dave?

"Rachel, for god sakes, you're usually horny and slutty," Coach complained. "Don't be a tease tonight, please."

"I'm not trying to be tease," she said with almost desperation in her voice. "Now just doesn't feel right."

"I don't have time for this," He growled with agitation, tossing the wine bottle onto a nearby chair, spinning Rachel around and bending her over the arm of the couch, pulling her nylon jogging pants and panties down her thighs.

From where I stood, I got a clear view of Rachel's naked ass. I knew I should have closed the door and given them their privacy but I was so shocked and stunned that I couldn't move.

Coach unbuckled his khaki pants and pulled them down his legs and he quickly entered Rachel from behind. To my horror and disgust, they were fucking.