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The English Teacher

By: shoeslayer



I had a desire to get back into writing but due to the many rejection notices I received about bad grammar, I had to give this matter more consideration.

When I look back I remember thinking,"Damn this English lesson could be used to torture enemy soldiers, and if they did not pass the test, they would be forced to clean the waste out of an atomic powered boiler."

Such pleasant thoughts came to me while I was attending Peter Thatcher J.H. though I bet some students call the school "Peter Torture."

So I decided to take some English lessons and figured even if I did not write, I would still be speaking better grammar and most likely I'd have a shot at getting my stories published. 

I looked in the newspaper under "Education" and found a retired English teacher offering her services. Her name is Miss Higgins and she has a sort of plummy voice like Julia Childes, the well known lady of kitchens. She told me where she lives, how long the lesson is and how much. We agreed I would be there at seven that evening. 

I arrived at her place on time with a notebook and pencils,naturally wondering what she would look like. I guessed that by her voice she would be a pretty good looking woman in her sixties and wearing either a skirt and blouse or a dress.

When she opened the door, my fantasies went into overdrive. She had to be sixty five and what a good looking sixty five. Dark brown hair center parted;black skirt; white ruffled blouse and black patent two inch heels. Miss Higins had a pair of silver half-glasses hung from an eye- glasses chain of small pearls. 

"Good evening Miss Higgins."

"Hello Harold,a notebook and pencils, you are serious."

"Seems I would be expected to bring these, Miss Higgins."

"That's right but you would be surprised how many don't,Like it is up to me to supply stationery." 

"I know what you mean, a pack of pencils and a notebook won't cost more than a few dollars but do that ten times and it will add up for sure." 

Her office was very nice, dark mahogany paneling and various antiques on shelves. I knew I had a bulge in my pants but it was not my fault. She had a comfortable looking chair and card table so I knew where I would be sitting.

"So Harold, you want to brush up on English to write stories?" 

I don't know why it never occured to me that she might ask what sort of stories. Well I was not going to be embarrassed about it. 

"I want to write about the intimate doings between a man and a woman, how they met, their relationship and what happens in the bedroom."

"Who do you want to write for?" She asked in a pleasant voice. 

"There is a website called,"Literotica."

"O.K. tell me what you know about English so I can see where you are at." 

So I told Miss Higgins what I knew about English.

"Well Harold, that's why you are here. And you will learn the parts of a sent- ence and how they all come together to form a sentence;paragrph;page and story." 

"O.K. Harold as you know, we use various forms of punctuation as we talk but when we write, we have to follow guidelines so we understand the story as the author wants us to. Do you know what I mean?" 

"Yes." I answered.

"Have you written any stories yet, Harold?"

"Yes,I brought it with me." So I handed to her. 

She sat back in her chair and pushed her silver half-glasses down her nose. 

As I am sitting there,I am conscious of a boner stir up in my loins. I am thinking I could be quite interested in Miss Higgins. So what about the age difference.

"Harold, what is your age?"

"Fifty five...why?"

"This is a good story, very good really. Some mistakes in grammar and punctuation. Sounds like you have been married." 

"Yes I was married."

Miss Higgins looked at me over the tops of her half-glasses

"You were?" 

"Yes,Nineteen years and eight months, she passed away last March with no thanks to St. Pete General hospital."

"I am very sorry Harold, if you would like we could talk about this after the lesson would you like a cofee or coke?"

"A coke would be fine, thankyou."

"Harold, the heels you talk about are known as black patent."

"Dorothy told me that at times."

"So far as the quote, that can come before or after the tag."

Miss Higgins told me what I needed to know about quotation marks and a few other errors as well. 

"Loveys heels" is a very warm story Harold, I know you miss her dearly." 

"I keep her in my stories as she stays alive in my mind." 

"I can understand that. Do you know you're starring at my breasts?"

"It does look that way, but actually I am looking at your silver half-glasses." 

"Oh, why is that Harold?"

"Hanging from your eyeglass chain of pearls, there's a lot of femininity there."

"Dorothy was very feminine I am sure." 

"Yes Miss Higgins she was."

"Harold, you may call me Janet." 

We went over more rules of English and the hour was over. She asked if I would like to stay a bit and I did.

"What do you do for work Harold?"

"Locomotive electrical systems" 

"Diesel electrics?" 

I was a bit surprised,It just did not seem likely a woman would know about locos any more than a guy would know how to run a quilting bee.

"Yes Janet, Geeze I am sort of surprised."

"Don't be. I mean I drive so I see Mac trucks and big buses. When you said locomotive electrics I had to believe it would be a diesel electric locomotive."

"Well that is a great means of deduction, to put what you see with what you hear."

"I suppose Dorothy had a number of pairs of glasses?" 

"Yes she did,I still have them of course and I loved making sure they were always spotless.I really miss doing that for her." 

"Dorothy really dressed well, I loved her style. Either a dress or skirt and blouse with ruffles; two inch black patent pumps;string of pearls."

"I think you should wear them from time to time, Harold." 

I looked at her in wonder, as if she knew I wore my Wifes clothes..

"Why Janet?" 

"Wearing your Wifes clothes will make you feel closer to her."

This made me like Janet a lot, very quickly too and I felt I could be honest with her.

"Janet, I do wear Dorothy's clothes, have been for a long time. Her half- glasses too as small print is a bummer at times."

"Oh I knew that, Harold."

"When a man admires a woman's half-glasses, and her femininity,that really stands out."

"So what are your past times?" she asked. 

"Piano for the most part, sketching, painting.

"What kind of music do you like?"

"Well Janet I like to listen to the pops, country western but mostly classical."

"Do you have a piano?"

"Yes, a Baldwin model L."

"Baldwins are a very good piano."

"Which composer do you like the best?"

"Chopin and Beethoven, Chopin for his etudes and nocturnes, love that Opus ten number three. Beethoven for his Moonlight sonata and Path'etique.I have thanked Dorothy a million times for introducing me to the classics."

I could tell Janet was warming to me when she asked if I could play her a few pieces so I played Chopins opus 9 No.2 opus 10 No.3 and Green sleaves.

The night was moving on and Janet told me to come back tomorrow at the same time.I pulled out my wallet to pay her for the lesson.

"I am not going to charge a friend for English lessons, Harold."

"So Janet, if I asked you over Saturday night for supper, you would come?" 

"Of course I would come and I am looking forward to it."

"Here is what I would like you to work on tonight or tomorrow before you come back." 

I was back at Janet's doorstep the next evening, with my finger on the doorbell button. 

Janet opened the door and welcomed me in,she noticed me undressing her with my eyes and she smiled.

She's wearing a purple skirt and a creme colored blouse with ruffles; black patent three inch belt in gator skin and black patent pumps.

Today she wore a string of small purple beads from which a pair of silver oval style glasses hang. I figured they were reading glasses until I saw the the half-moons.

"Janet."

"Yes Harold?"

"Why are you wearing bifocals today when yesterday you wore the silver half-glasses?"

"You really notice things. I wear the bifocals when I am out driving but the half-glasses you like so much when I am in the house."

"Why do you say, "The half-glasses you like so much?"

"Well yesterday when I thought you were starring at my bosoms you said,

"But actually I am looking at your silver half-glasses."

"You also said you wore your Wifes clothes and her half-glasses too. Harold, many guys have fetishes."

"I would not be surprised if you had a few fetishes,say cross dressing and high heels. There is not much I know about you, but you seem to be a very warm and caring man who will always love his wife."

"Lets talk after but work on English now."

So she talked about predicates and dependent and independent phrases and adverbs;adjectives. She gave me some problems to work out before the next lesson was due.

"Would you like to play Green sleaves for me again?" Janet asked. 

"Sure." 

So we walked into her piano room. She left her gold half-glasses with beads on the piano next to the sheet music and I took them an cleaned them with a corner of my shirt and held them out at arms length to check for spots.

Janet was working on how to keep me around but how? The answer came when I cleaned her glasses.

"Harold I have like ten pair of glasses most are the half-glasses style and a few pair of silver ovals. You can always visit, just keep my glasses and heels spotless."

When Harold used her bathroom he saw a brassiere on the counter and remembered the size.

"You can bet your 44D's on that Janet."

"And how do you know so much about bosoms?" She asked with a warm smile.

"It would be easier to show you Janet." 

"Follow me Harold."

Her bedroom is nice, her headboard and drapes for the large window are of the same shade of mauve. A French provincial style dresser,a large cozy chair to sit in while watching t.v. and two glass lamps on the dresser and a similar style lamp on the bedside table.

Janet drew the drapes and turned the lamps down by a dimmer switch.The room had low wattage bulbs behind the drapes and the setting was cozy. 

Janet removed her blouse and skirt and let her silver bifocals hang across her bosoms by the string of small purple beads. She also had yesterdays pair of silver half-round glasses with the string of small pearls on the bedside table. 

Her breasts were just lovely, extra large with big pink aureoles and plump red nipples that erect as I started to lick them going from long slow licks to short fast licks. Janet was moaning and making little mewing sounds as she was being loved by a man who would turn out to be a great lover.

I took her string of beads and moved them back and forth against her plump red sexy nipples and watched as they quivered when the beads went fast by them. 

"Please give me those half-moons, Janet?" 

She did and I had her half-glasses and I rubbed her nipples with them and Janet really liked this. 

Having been married I knew that sometimes a woman would have waves of sexual pleasure radiate from her mamories to her pussy. That is what I hoped for. 

That was not going to happen though but she did have a nice idea.

"I would like to see the effect my half-glasses have on your hog."

"Why do you call it a hog, Janet?"

"My husband was a biker, he had a Harley Davidson and always referred to it as a hog. One day I told him I really liked his hog and he dropped his trousers faster than lightning."

"OK. Sounds like a fine idea." 

"Which of my glasses turns you on the most? The half-round style or the silver ovals with the half-moons?" 

"I really like both pairs, you said you have ten pair so how about doing something wild with them as you look at me through a pair?" 

So I stripped off my clothes and got up on the bed. Janet took her half- glasses and silver ovals and touched me all over down there as she looked at me through or over the tops of her gold granny glasses.

"Oh Harold this cock turned into a purple monster! I am going to have this beast in me soon!

"You are going to wear my dress as I jerk you off into it, I want my fingers wrapped around that monstrous cock of yours."

"That would be so great Janet, I can't believe it.

"After you took such good care of my bosoms. They loved what you did. They will want that again." 

So she took her smooth pale blue gown with lace and handed it to me. I put it on enjoying the feel of that smooth silky fabric. Janet had put some creme in her palm and slowly jerked me off into her dress as she looked at me either through or over the tops of her gold granny glasses. If my granny were this sexy I'd have no trouble doing her.

My voice was raspy between some heavy breathing as I hollered,'UM CUMMING!"

And did I ever. I blew a nice dollop of love sauce inside her lovely dress. And Janet licked it off as though cum would never be around again. 

Janet and I laid in bed for awhile talking about this fetish I have and life in general. 

Four months later. 

We had been seeing each other once or twice a week. I took her to a well known Italian place or a very good rib joint, prime rib that is. 

I had her over for supper a number of times and had the idea it may not be long now that we would things, much more intimate things than what we had been doing. 

I had Janet over one Saturday for ribs and got up to get another cold beer. She noticed my hard-on and asked,

"Whats up?"

"I am horny."

"I know." Replied Janet."Only one thing to do about it."

"What would you suggest Janet?" 

"My pussy is in dire need of a good piece of pork, but not with the Dinosaur sauce."

"To have this really work out well, we need some good old fashion foreplay." I told her.

"Of course we need that, most likely it is the reason "quickies don't always work well. One has to go through fifty; sixty;seventy; and eighty before they get to ninety."

"Sounds great, what would you like me to do first?" I asked in a very content voice.

"I have thought of that and I want you to work on my nipples, then eat me and to finish up, Fuck me like there's no tomorrow." 

So we went to the bedroom and stripped off our clothes. She kept her undies on though.

"Harold, do you like my brassiere?" 

This was a purple patent brassiere with the nipples exposed, very sexy.

Once upon that king size bed I started to lick Janet's lovely 44D size knockers and they are the nicest bosoms I have seen in a while.

Then I moved over to her nice pink aureoles and started licking her nipples, going from short quick licks to long slow licks.I saw her glasses on the night table, they winked at me as if to say, "Touch her with these."

"Oh Harold, drag them over my nipples then run the beads slowly past them." 

I did as she desired and I could tell by her ooohs and ahhhs she was getting turned on.

"Janet wants you to eat her," She said in a Mae West voice.

Faster than greased lightning I had her purple panties with white lace off and my head in her silky muff. I was giving her vagina the licking of the century, working towards the pearl that would send her over the top.

I decided to warm up the furnace of her desires by a bit of finger fuckin' I went in slowly and speeded up. Soon I was hearing her pussy juices slurping round my fingers and I licked them clean.

"WELL Col. Saunders, bet your chicken does not taste this good!" 

"OH HAROLD, FUCK ME! NOW!"

I'm climbing over her getting that monstrous cock aimed for her glory hole. Yup its in and damn it feels so HOT an sexy. I love the feeling of being in the woman I love and truly adore.

In and out I went, nice and slow,this felt so fucking good I did not want to cum in a hurry and I knew Janet did not want me to either as she loved having that purple monster cock deep up inside her.

"Faster Harold!"

Well Janet wants to be fucked like there's no tomorrow? O.K. I can and will do that. I was ready for this! That purple monster was going to conquer her hot sexy body and from this time on Janet would beg for it!

I could feel her shake then stiffen up and she brought her legs together with a lot of force so the monster cock would not escape from the confines of her hot juicy puss.

"More Harold!"

I was giving Janet a real good pounding and I know this is what she has been wanting. I was going at her in a ferocious way, letting the real animal in me come out. And suddenly like the knife switches at the powerhouse being closed, thousands of amperes of raw sex power coursed through Janets body giving her a series of mighty orgasms one after another and still another.

I looked at Janet and till this day I never saw such an expression of rapture and complete contentment in her. I know she felt womanly and complete and whole and that was very good. 

Well we laid there for a while talking about how good this was and that for our sanity we would have to do this a few times a week anyways. 

"You know Harold we're going to get the munchies. run over to the package store and pick up a six pack of Coors to go with those great country style ribs." 

As I am driving over I am saying to myself, 

"This is the best way to learn English."

The English Teacher



All participants in these events were aged at least 18 at the time.

*

I attended an all girls private school which was a good school but it did have drawbacks such as the strict uniform code. The girls in the local comprehensive school could wear sweatshirts and trousers but we were forced to wear very traditional uniform which made us look the archetypal schoolgirl so when we were out in the city we felt like magnets for every pervert for miles. The boys from the comprehensive used to drool over us. Of course sometimes it was fun to enjoy the power which we had to make their hands slip into trouser pockets to ease the pressure but not all the males who enjoyed the sight of our white socks, grey skirts and crisp white blouses were young enough to be at school.

Of course the other drawback of our school was the absence of boys which meant that crushes among girls were fairly common. That is where this story begins because I had an almighty crush on Georgia who was in my Sixth Form year when we were doing our A levels. I would love to watch just the way that she moved and to hear her voice and when we had gym I could not resist surreptitiously watching her in the changing room and the showers. All that would have been fine but I had to go and write the letter.

It was never intended to be sent; it was just one of those things which girls write for fun to get our thoughts out on paper.

I can still see almost every word before my eyes now...

"My beloved Georgie, how I adore your firm slim body and the sight of your thick bush as you come out of the shower with your lovely puffy lips between your thighs. Your lovelips are much more developed than mine and I dream of squeezing their marshmallow softness and stroking your flat belly then working my tongue up your soft skin up to your round, full breasts...."

Well it went on a lot like that but what went wrong was that I was reading it during a boring bit in an English class and I saw Miss Adamson heading towards my desk so I slipped my guilty little letter between the pages of my exercise book. Of course you can guess what happened next; I forgot what I had done and handed in the book for marking at the end of the lesson. How could I have been so stupid? I realised what I had done as I was making my way down the corridor to my next lesson but it was too late.

For two days and nights I tortured myself as I waited for the axe to fall. I tried to make myself think that Miss A would not see the loose page and would mark and return the book with no harm done but what were the chances of that? Perhaps she would see it and just take it as a joke and ignore it but I knew that was a false hope. The Laurels made a lot of fuss about turning out moral young ladies and I knew something terrible would happen to me. I lay awake at night imagining what it might be. Would they make me read the dreadful letter out in Assembly or perhaps they would feel they had a moral duty to warn parents of the "moral danger" I presented. "Dear Parents, we feel it is our duty to warn you about Julie. If your daughters report any improper advances from this girl please report them to The Head for firm action to be taken." Or worse than that would they call my Mum and Dad in to see The Head and suggest that it was best for me to be removed from the school? How would I ever face my parents again?

Every minute that I was at school I expected to be summoned to see The Head or perhaps Miss Adamson and it happened on the Thursday morning after the English lesson. I had sat in terrible tension for the whole lesson and as we were filing out of the room Miss A stood beside the door so that I had to walk past her.

"Julie could you come to my office as soon as the lunch bell sounds today please."

There was no explanation but her voice was quite stern. Miss A was Head of English and she was also a Housemistress so she had her own small room in the Admin Block and I had been summoned. Were my days at The Laurels about to come to a humiliating end?

Of course being in her room as soon as the bell rang was impossible so I raced along the corridors as fast I could without breaking the rule about running and I arrived hot, breathless and nervous.

She was sitting behind her paper-strewn desk and right in front of her was my letter which, of course, was in my handwriting so there was no chance of denying my authorship. She held the letter up between two fingers as if it was contaminated and she asked me to explain. I stammered through a sort of incoherent sentence which I think contained words like "Joke..Bit of fun..silly game" and her face showed that she was unconvinced. Then she told me to read it aloud.

I was stunned. She had already read it, why did she need me to read it to her? Of course it was all part of the psychological warfare; she was deliberately humiliating me. I stood there trying to keep my feet still and feeling my face flushing red hot as I tried to apply my best reading aloud voice; this was truly horrible.

Then she asked what I thought she ought to do about it. I could not face her.

"Don't know Miss."

"Well I have to know. I have to do something don't I? Do you have any idea of the seriousness of this?"

I mumbled that it was not really serious as I had not actually DONE anything but that was not the right thing to say. She made her anger very plain.

"Not done anything? How do you think your classmates would feel if they knew that every time they changed for Gym they were being weighed up as sexual partners? What will their parents say about their daughters being abused in this way?"

She had beaten me into silence and my lower lip was trembling. I was having to work really hard at not bursting into tears and then she asked if I had any Gym lessons scheduled for the remainder of the week. I told her that I had Gym the following morning and she sighed deeply.

"I will tell Miss Cheesley you are doing a job for me. Come and see me in The Library at the start of your Gym period. I don't want you anywhere near the showers, changing room or the swimming pool and I don't want you touching or eying up any girl at all. Can I trust you or do I have to warn the Reeves to keep a watch on you?"

I could not believe what I was hearing. She was talking about making me a total outcast but I assured her that she could trust me. A very dark cloud had settled on me and it did not lift. Girls of our age routinely hug as a greeting and whenever any of my friends came near me I drew away in case word got back to Miss A that I was breaking her trust.

So on Friday morning I reported to The Library and Miss A led me into her storeroom and gave very detailed instructions for the tidying up which I was to do instead of joining my fellows on the sports field. I then expected her to bustle off and leave me to my chores but she had a shock for me.

"Give me your skirt."

I just stood there in shocked silence. Surely I had misheard. 

"Come on girl. I need to know that you will stay in this room and I am hoping that losing your skirt means you will not dare wander the school."

Looking at the floor I reached behind myself and unzipped my skirt then I stepped out of it and handed it over. Even our Victorian school did not insist on regulation knickers so I was now in my white kneesocks and bright pink cotton briefs which did very little to hide the shape of my pussylips. Miss Adamson swept out of the room shutting the door behind her. The tasks which she had set for me were quite ambitious bearing in mind that I only had an hour so I set to work but it felt very odd being here in just my knickers and I was terrified that someone would come in and find me. My captor did not return till ten minutes after the lunch bell and I could hear girls outside the storeroom door in The Library. I had finished my tasks but was now coming to think that she would leave me here for the entire lunchbreak. 

Suddenly she was back and she left me in my knickers as she made a quick inspection of the room to see what I had done then she handed me my skirt and stood watching me as I dressed but she was not finished with me.

"I still have to decide what to do with you. Come to my cottage after school. You can phone your mum to say you have a detention."

I had to join the rest of the school in the dining room but as soon as I had eaten I took myself off to a quiet spot behind the sports pavilion where I hoped no-one would find me. I just could not bear being with anyone in case I suddenly started blubbing. I used my mobile phone to call home and told the answering machine that I had volunteered to clean the Library Store for Miss Adamson.

Now you need to know a bit about Miss Adamson. She looked only a bit older than some of her girls although, to have reached the position of Head of English, she must have been quite a reasonable age. She lived alone in an old cottage in the school grounds. The cottage had been built for a favourite servant when the school was a private manor house. Miss Adamson was always very smart in a stylish, under-stated way and there was gossip about her among the girls who wondered how such an attractive woman had remained single. Sometimes we used to giggle about the fact that her cottage overlooked the sports field and we imagined her behind her net curtains watching us play hockey in our short games skirts with our young boobs bouncing in the confines of tight t shirts. This speculation about Miss A made my present plight all the more bitter. We had no actual evidence of her sexual leanings but it was a cruel irony that she was punishing me for...what she was punishing me for. 

So at 4.45 that Friday I stood on her doorstep and jangled the brass bell beside the door. When she came to the door I noticed that she had changed into a pale green cotton skirt and a darker green blouse with pink embroidery down the front. Her well-shaped legs were bare and she was wearing black, flat shoes.

She ushered me down the narrow passage to her stone-flagged kitchen at the rear of the cottage and she seated herself beside the scrubbed pine table as I stood silently waiting for her to speak.

"Well Julie so it seems from your letter that you dream of undressing young Georgie. Is that correct?"

"No Miss, I...."

"I think you see her in her smart uniform and you think you would like to strip her and use her for your sexual pleasure without a thought of how humiliating that would be for her."

I was burning with the injustice of this but I knew there was no point in arguing. Miss A was talking about making the punishment fit the crime and curing me of my unhealthy obsession; I did not really take in the details but her last line brought me back to reality with a shock.

"Take off your clothes."

"Miss?"

"Julie you are not in a position to stand there and ask stupid questions. I am trying very hard to decide whether to simply walk you along to The Head right now and I will do just that unless you are completely undressed by the time I count to five. One." 

This was awful. Being made to strip like this was bad enough but I have told you about how we suspected Miss A was not exactly hetrosexual so it felt like undressing and being watched by a man. But I knew I was trapped so I desperately dragged off my red cardigan and began to fumble urgently with the buttons on my white blouse. The blouse joined the cardigan on the table as she reached a count of two and a half and my fingers felt as fat as sausages as I stood wriggling with my hands behind me working on the clasp of my brief white bra.

I felt her eyes burning into my small boobs as I kicked off my shoes and dragged my skirt down and off. 

"Four."

My heart was thumping. I knew that what I was doing was so far away from normal behaviour as to be beyond description but I had to complete this ghastly strip before she reached five. I peeled my knickers off and left them on the floor as I hopped from foot to foot and cast off my socks leaving my bare feet on the cold stone floor. I ended up panting and very aware of my chest moving up and down and my knickers and socks strewn around my feet. I had one arm folded across my boobs and one hand inadequately covering my dark triangle of fuzz. Miss A stood up and made no secret of the fact that she was staring at my naked body.

"Put your hands on your head like the bad girl you are."

The events of the past week had stripped away my will and I immediately obeyed feeling very vulnerable and small. Still her inspection continued then she walked behind me and I felt her warm fingers stroke my bum. My lip turned inwards then she was in front of me again and I saw her gather up my clothes from the floor and the table. To my horror she put all my clothes into a wooden cupboard and dropped the key into her skirt pocket then turned towards me with an evil grin.

"Do you think Georgia would like to see you now little Julie?"

I shook my head while keeping my hands in place on my head. She moved towards me so that she was inches in front of me with her eyes still raking every part of my boobs and my most private area. Suddenly my heart almost stopped in mid thump as the doorbell jangled. Miss Adamson's voice was back to the sharp commanding tone which she had used back in the Library store room.

"Don't move a muscle."

She hurried back up the passageway to the front door and I heard the voice of Mr Berry who taught art. Miss Adamson was chatting to him in a welcoming tone as she brought him back to the kitchen.

"Don't mind Julie. We are just dealing with a little disciplinary issue."

I could use words like "embarrassment" or "humiliation" but the English language just does not have words to describe how I was feeling. Mr Berry was probably in his thirties and some girls had crushes on him. He was enjoying an unrestricted view of the most secret parts of me and I would have to sit in front of him for every art lesson till the end of the year. It was clear that Miss A had arranged for her visitor to come at this time so she had deliberately set me up for what was happening to me now. They sat at the table with her back to me and him facing me over her shoulder so that he had a clear view of naked Julie as they talked about whether the art department could provide scenery for a play which she was preparing for the end of term.

The clock was on the wall behind me so I had no idea of how long I stood there with the chill from the floor penetrating my feet and the chill from the air contrasting with the searing heat in my face. I was trying not to meet the art teacher's eyes so I was staring straight ahead at nothing but I could not keep my eyes from straying towards him to see if he was watching me and, of course, his eyes rarely left my body.

Eventually I became aware that they were winding up their business and they stood up. I was willing him to leave as quickly as possible but Miss Adamson had another idea of how to humiliate me.

"Dave. Do you remember you were talking about introducing the girls to life drawing?"

This opened up a whole new conversation and guess who she was proposing as a model. They discussed which age groups should take part in the project and Mr Berry thought that, as figure drawing was generally considered difficult, it was best to start as early as possible and continue up through the school so that the girls kept honing their skills. They were discussing me as if I were not there and I did not dare to say a word.

"So perhaps we could arrange for Julie to visit each art group in turn so that they all became familiar with the subject...."

"Would you say she is a good subject?"

He walked around me like a man inspecting a used car.

"Well the small bust development is not typical for her age but that could be used as an example of how the artist can compensate for short comings in the model by using creativity. After all drawing is not supposed to be like photography. Do you think we could trim the pubic hair? The labia can be quite hard to get right and if we remove the hair it gives much more detail."

And so it went on as they discussed their project seemingly unaware that I was a human being whom they were proposing to expose naked to every girl in the school. All I could do was to stand there trying not to think of the comments which would be thrown at me every break time. "Julie the stripper....Miss Tiny Tits....Floppy Fanny."

Finally she saw him out and came back to me. She flopped down on a chair and told me that I could lower my aching arms which I did with quite unnatural gratitude bearing in mind that it had been she who had put me into that position in the first place. I kept my arms at my sides not daring to cover up without being given permission.

"Naked bodies are not really so much fun as you thought are they?"

"No Miss."

She stood up and put her arm gently around my shoulders.

"I hope you've learned that girls like us have to be careful Julie."

What was she saying? Did she mean...?

She spoke quietly.

"Come with me."

And she led me up her winding staircase and into a lilac bedroom overlooking the sports field where our second team were playing against the comp at hockey. Miss Adamson sank down onto the bed and pulled me down beside her. Her arm went around me and pulled me into her body. As I looked towards her she placed a finger on my lips then she removed the finger and gave me such a delicate little kiss as she began to unbutton her blouse. I just sat there feeling loved and comfortable as she cast her blouse onto the floor and removed her bra.

Her breasts were pear shaped and quite round and full underneath. She took my hands and placed one on each of her breasts then she shimmied out of her skirt leaving herself in just a little pair of lemon lacy briefs.

Once again her arm went around me and she laid back pulling me down with her. I was aware of the girlish shouts from the hockey field as our lips met and her tongue began to explore my mouth; it seemed so natural to respond in kind and I felt her hand on my thigh. The hand moved to my pussy and began to stroke my intimate lips as I parted my legs to indicate willingness. She was urging me to touch her and I gladly did so as the room began to fill with gentle moans of satisfaction. My teacher whispered that I should help her out of her knickers and I did so, feeling that this could not be real. She had a neatly trimmed fuzzbush and her lips down there were lovely and puffy and so soft to the touch. She must have showered just before I arrived because all her skin, especially her pussy, had a delicate scent of lily of the valley.

I cannot give you a proper blow by blow account of the action because my mind was so full of endorphins that it was no longer keeping accurate records but I know that our tongues explored every part of each other's bodies and we were still entwined there as the light began to fade and the noise from the hockey match ceased. I so loved the salty taste of her pussy and the texture of her tongue as it ticked my own cleft that time for me ceased to have any meaning but my mature lover was in control. She whispered to me in the gloom.

"You have to go my love."

I knew she was right but it was such an effort to leave her warm bed and go downstairs where she gave me back my clothes. Claire (first names now) drove me home but I had left her my knickers as a souvenir so that I could think of her fingers caressing my most intimate garment and perhaps her nose breathing in my smell. When we pulled up outside my house her hand eased up my skirt and gave me a lovely squeeze as she explained that she could not kiss me goodnight in case we were seen. 

Of course that was only the first of our secret meetings. Sometimes I would find an excuse to stay late after school "To help Miss Adamson with cataloguing the library" and sometimes we would have clandestine meetings at weekends. I loved creeping up to her cottage or even sometimes spending a whole weekend at a hotel having told my mum that I was having a sleepover; well I was having a sleepover.




The English Teacher



Quite early on in our affair she asked me to lie on my tummy and I felt her draw my hands behind me so that she could tie them with her dressing gown cord. She put her mouth to my ear and whispered huskily.

"Now you are powerless and I can do whatever I want to you."

She was a skilful and unselfish lover and the things which she did to my helpless body made me beg for more and more as I revelled in her dominance over me. After that first night in her car outside my home it became our "thing" that every meeting -- even if it was in her office at school -- ended with her squeezing me between my legs and sending me away moist and tingling and desperately looking forward to the next chance we had to pleasure each other.



The English Teacher



Carolyn looked up quickly before putting her head back on the desk and scrawling the note that Mr. Ruckfield, her English teacher, had put up on the board. No matter what, Carolyn was determined to pass this class. She'd always had trouble with English but she knew that now, at 18 in her senior year, she'd just have to grin and bear it. 'It's not so bad' she thought to herself, 'at least the teacher isn't hard to look at.'

Mr. Ruckfield was a young teacher in his mid to late twenties. He had short brown hair and green, piercing eyes. Most of the girls in Harbourfront High had a crush on him. At least they did, until they had him as a teacher. He was strict, gave tons of work, and marked hard. 

Carolyn finished copying the note and put down her pen. She studied Mr. Ruckfield's figure. 'Yeah, he's good looking. But definitely not my type. He'd be way too rough with me.' She thought while slowly chewing on the top of her pen. Suddenly Mr. Ruckfield's eyes met hers and Carolyn quickly looked away.

Soon after the bell rang and Carolyn gathered her books quickly so that she could enjoy the most of her lunch with her friends, and boyfriend, Peter. "Carolyn, will you stay behind for a second?" Mr. Ruckfield's deep voice rang out behind her. 

"Shit." Carolyn quietly cursed then turned around and walked towards her teacher. "Yes?"

"Carolyn, I'd like to see you in my office after school concerning your mark. I'm in office 321. That is all." Mr. Ruckfield said crisply while his eyes lingered for a few seconds on her perky breasts which were just barely being shown over her shirt.

"Alright." Carolyn responded then pulled up her shirt a little and walked to meet her boyfriend at his locker. 

They exchanged a quick peck on the lips and then Carolyn explained what had happened with her teacher. "Oh! Maybe he's got a thing for you. Is that how you like 'em Care?" Peter teased while giving her a friendly wink.

"You know how I like it." Carolyn said while rubbing her breasts against his chest mock seductively. 

Carolyn and Peter had lost their virginities to each other a few months into their relationship but Carolyn had never found the sex exciting. It seemed so much less fun then the stories she'd read online and the videos she and her friends had secretly looked up on the internet. 

Before long it was the end of the day and Carolyn grudgingly dragged herself towards office 321. Her icy blue eyes scanned the halls until she spotted the numbers 321 at the very end of the hall. She looked away, surprised that the halls had cleared so early then walked leisurely towards her English teacher's office. After knocking lightly on the door she was greeted with a rough, "Come in Ms. Ace."

Carolyn walked in and took a seat without being asked to. "What about my marks, sir?"

Mr. Ruckfield laughed lightly and quietly said, "Sir... I'm going to enjoy hearing that from your pretty little mouth."

Suddenly conscience of her lips, Carolyn pressed them together tightly. "Maybe I should come back another time..." She suggested hesitantly.

"No! No... this is just perfect." He reached over and placed a hand on her breast carefully, feeling it immediately swelling at his touch.

Carolyn retracted her body instinctively. "Stop." She tried to say, though she sounded breathless.

Mr. Ruckfield again reached out to her. This time he moved his hand behind her and cupped her neck while gently stroking it with her thumb. Before Carolyn had a chance to react his mouth was covering hers and kissing her eagerly. Carolyn couldn't think and she began kissing him back. After a few seconds she realized what was happening and forcefully pulled away. "What...?" She began to question.

"This is how you're going to earn your marks from now on. You'll earn your grade on how good of a little fuck slut you can be." Mr. Ruckfield said, with an unfamiliar lust in his eyes.

Once again he covered her mouth and slipped his tongue in. This time Carolyn resisted and bit his tongue. He retracted his head quickly and then slapped Carolyn on the face. "Try another stunt like that and you'll regret it." He threatened. "Now suck my cock, you slut." He pulled her head down and unzipped his zipper. 

Carolyn was too stunned to think so she began slowly licking the head of his growing cock. She began debating running away when Mr. Ruckfield suddenly groaned. Carolyn was then surprised to feel a familiar wetness between her thighs. Even more surprisingly, she decided to forget her plans for running away and stay just a little bit longer.

The handsome teacher quickly put his hands on back of Carolyn's head and pushed down hard. His large cock was thrust into the back of her throat and she gagged for a few seconds before feeling him pulling her up by the hair. Her throat closed up again and she felt temporary relief before being brutally propelled onto his large tool once again. 

After a few minutes of Mr. Ruckfield pushing Carolyn on himself, he could feel that it was wet enough, even if she wasn't by now. With a reluctant groan he pulled her off his cock and took a few deep breathes. His green eyes fixed into her blue ones, which were wide with what seemed like fear. This just made him grin maliciously. He'd make her like it.

When Carolyn looked into her English's teacher's eyes, it felt as if he were looking into her soul. He hadn't cum yet, so it was obvious he wasn't done with her. She prayed he wouldn't fuck her. If she didn't die from embarrassment of him knowing that he'd made her wet then surely she'd die from being ripped in half. 

When neither of them at moved for about a minute and Mr. Ruckfield's heavy breathing at slowed down, Carolyn looked at him and quietly asked, "So what now?" 

"You'll only address me as 'sir' from now on, got that slut?" He answered harshly and gave her a quick almost painless slap on the face.

"Yes, sir" Carolyn quickly corrected herself, "What's going to happen now, sir?"

"Do you see my cock?" The teacher asked while grabbing Carolyn's chin and forcing her about an inch away from it. "Well it's going to meet your pussy." 

Carolyn swallowed hard, surprised by how much she wanted to be fucked by her own teacher. She gazed lustfully at his large, manly cock. It was sticking straight out from his body with her spit and his pre-cum making a shiny combination on its head. She licked her lips and tried to stick her tongue out to get another taste of him but he pulled her sharply back and laughed. "Trying to get another taste, eh slut? Well be a good little cock whore and maybe I'll let you." He said mockingly.

Suddenly Mr. Ruckfield propped Carolyn up on his desk and slid his hand up her skirt. Expertly, he pulled off her panties and threw them to side the before doing the same with her bra. "Get undressed, you slutty little girl." He ordered her while getting undressed himself. 

Despite herself, Carolyn found herself extremely horny and turned on. She quickly undressed while her teacher only had his pants off. Her mouth rushed for his cock and began eagerly sucking on it, wanting to prove herself as a good little slut.

Once he felt her soft lips engulf his meat, Mr. Ruckfield leaned back his body and moaned, his hands still frozen on undoing a button on his shirt. He slowly grabbed her head and slid it off of his head and brought her up to his face. Then Mr. Ruckfield put his hands on the sides of her face and plunged his tongue into her mouth and met with no resistance.

It all happened very quickly but Carolyn felt herself being whipped around and the front of her body was pushed down on the desk. She spread her legs to help keep her balance and was just figuring out what had happened when she felt the greatest pain and pleasure she'd ever gotten before. Her teacher had entered her tight little body.

Both let out a moan simultaneously and the handsome teacher began thrusting into her tight pussy walls. He could feel them gripping his cock, sucking and trying to hold him in with each outward thrust. After he got over the warm, tightness of her pussy, Mr. Ruckfield came to the realization that his young, sexy student was pushing back against his eager cock. 

"Oh yeah, slut, take it all. Take all of my long cock in you." He groaned while fucking.

"Yeah, I'm your little slut. I like your big fat cock in me." Carolyn surprised herself by saying these words. She was even more surprised at what a turn on it all was.

"Want me to cum in your tight little pussy? I know your pussy wants it. It's dripping juice everywhere." Mr. Ruckfield slammed into her small body again and retracted, feeling that wonderful suction.

"Oh yes." Carolyn managed to moan out, "you fuck me so hard."

The English Professor could feel his balls tightening up against him. He knew her was almost ready to blow all his cum into Carolyn's pussy. "I'm about to cum, whore. Tell me how much you like all my powerful man juice flowing into you, up into you. Tell me, you slut." At this he grabbed her hair back forcefully.

"I love it! I want it!" Carolyn said, delirious with lust.

"That's it. Now it take it all in!!" With these last words Mr. Ruckfield rammed his cock into Carolyn's very wet pussy and spurted cum into her a few times. He felt his balls emptying out and a wave of pleasure washed over him as her roared like a mad man, finally feeling his release.

"Yes! Oh fuck, I can feel all your cum. I can feel it all, sir. It's so warm." Carolyn said while trying to catch her breath. 

"That's a B, slut." Mr. Ruckfield announced while popping his shrinking cock from Carolyn. "By next week, have a pair of hand cuffs and a blindfold."

"Yes sir." She answered, and then bent down to lick up their combined juices from his cock.

He felt himself getting hard again then stopped her. "Next week, my little cockwhore. I'll make you a good student yet."



The English Teacher



Eleanor was in charge of acquisitions for the library, but took her turn at the circulation desk like others on the small staff. 

 "Robert! How nice to see you. Gretchen said you would be home this summer."

 The day was warm, and she wore a flowery summer dress in shades of yellow. Years ago, when she was my eighth grade teacher, I had a terrible adolescent crush. Now, after a marriage and a divorce, she had some lines in her classic features, and showed the effects of ten years of life in a small town. Tall, elegant, aloof. She was trim as always, but not in play. Her body language said 'not available.'

 "Eleanor, you are a vision for my eyes. I come with an invitation for dinner. Mother says you must interrogate me about my foolish desire to finish an English degree."

 Her smile was as quick as I remembered. "Oh yes, I certainly must dissuade you from that. Look what has happened to me, a single woman in a small town library with no prospects whatever!" The smile drifted into a momentary sad expression that said a lot.

 "Then we can duel in front of Gretchen about life and love and the great American novel."

 She reached out her hand to press mine. "You are the same young man who teased his teacher in the eighth grade, aren't you?"

 I tried for a grown up male look with a challenge in it. "And you are the same beautiful woman who stirred me up in more ways than one."

 The hand smacked my arm. "I see you have learned some grown up tricks. I will be there at six thirty. With wine." She turned to the man waiting with a book.

 I jogged home the short two blocks, and changed for a more serious run. Mom, alone for several years, had a long list of house chores, but they could wait a little longer. I hugged and kissed her and was out the door. Running was my time to think. I'd spent much of the past year reading American novels, absorbing the uniqueness of our approach to an originally European genre. Americans were brash and idealistic about their great continent and its treasures. Europeans thought, in their cynical ways, we were hopelessly naive. And wrote counterpoint works full of irony and dissipated characters. At least they did until Faulkner and Hemingway and Woolf plumbed new depths.

 I picked up the pace, substituting hard breathing for novelistic meanderings. I grinned to myself and looked at the watch. Three miles, time to turn around. Ever since humans developed consciousness, their minds had been at war with their bodies, never more so than when calling on them for a burst of energy to win a race. Now there was a good conundrum for the Darwinists. 

 My thoughts turned to Eleanor. She and my mother were good friends. Without men in their lives, they found things to do together and shared a common sense of the foibles of small town life. But neither was adventurous enough to do something about their quiet existence. I wondered what I could do to add spice and excitement.

 Gretchen was sitting on the patio next to her new pool, sunning and reading a book. I leaned down with a sweaty kiss. Her arm went around my neck and the kiss deepened.

 "Your father used to give me sweaty kisses. I would beat on him for being an uncouth rogue. He wouldn't say anything, just haul me off to the bedroom for sweaty sex and make me scream."

 "If we weren't closely related, I would be hauling you off myself."

 She pulled my hair and said, "You are a dear, Scott. I am so glad you are here. How long can you stay?"

 I didn't answer, but dropped my shorts and washed in the outdoor shower before taking some laps. The pool was gorgeous, with black tiles in the bottom marking the lanes for laps. I had done a few when she turned up in the next lane, matching my strokes.

 We rested at the edge and she said, "I called Eleanor and told her to come for a swim and a sandwich at noon. Perhaps you should greet her like this. She needs a man, but pickings are slim here."

 "Cassie has won my heart. I don't chase skirts anymore." 

 "You are incredibly handsome. The young girls call you a stud, don't they?" She pressed herself against me and I pulled her tight. She needed a man too, and the pickings were even slimmer.

 Even in the cool water, I was hard and she felt it. "Imagine, an old lady getting you aroused. I'm flattered." She wiggled and I reached down to grip her behind firmly and pull her hips to me.

 I whispered harshly in her ear, "See here, Gretchen, if we are back in school and you tease me, there is only one result."

 She drew back but her tongue traced my lips again. "I admit it, I was a terrible tease, but your father put an end to it. On our second date, I let his hands have my bare tits, and then tried to shut him down. It didn't work. I lost my virginity that night, and loved him for it."

 I pulled her wet head to my chest and said, "I think I would have liked to know the coed Gretchen."

 "But you have me now. Older and wiser and loving my grown up son."

 I dried off and went to see about my email. She said she would fix some sandwiches if I made a nice fruit punch with some sparkling wine in it at the last minute. She hadn't bothered with clothes, nor had I, so we returned to the patio and lotioned up, relaxing in the warm sun.

 I was dozing when a voice said, "Look at this. I'm shocked, simply shocked."

 I sat up to find Eleanor shedding clothes as she walked across the terrace, smiling at mom and me.

 "This is very decadent. Your son, ten years later, is making his teacher all hot."

 As she shed the last of her underwear and dove into the pool, I said to Gretchen, "I had a terrible crush on her in the eighth grade, and never got to see that wonderful body."

 "Cassie would complain about her?"

 "Cassie is one of those wonderful women who trusts me, but knows I can't stop admiring the fair sex."

 "How is she?"

 "Torn over being away from me, but wanting to be with her parents, since this trip to Europe may be her father's last. His Parkinson's is getting worse."

 Ten laps later, Ellie was in the chair next to me, handing over the sunscreen and asking for application.

 "Gretchen tells me you have a wonderful girlfriend. May I have platonic application of lotion?"

 "Foolish woman. You are every eighth grader's dream. Even college junior's dream. There should be a big husky male snatching my hand from you this very minute."

 "Scott, when you walked up this morning, in all your grown up studliness, my girl parts tingled. If you weren't taken, I would be breaking small town manners and asking you for a date." Her look was molten and made my cock rise, which we both noticed.

 Gretchen brought sandwiches and punch, which cooled the temperature. We talked about the library and how she enjoyed sharing her love of books and language with readers who were similarly inclined. 

 She explained that after her failed marriage, going back to Berkeley for a library science degree was a refreshing change. She hadn't intended to return home, but her ailing parents needed her. They were gone, but inertia and the comfort of her job had stifled thoughts of moving.

 I put my hand on hers. "I loved the teacher, and I love the librarian. You will always be special to me."

 She looked at a smiling Gretchen and then at me, her face tense with emotion. "Scott, that is the nicest thing a man has said to me in an age. May I have a kiss to go with it?"

 She eased into my lap, the flawless warm skin reminding me of Cassie. The kiss was long and emotional. "God, I wish I could poach, but I won't. See you at dinner." Clothes in hand, the white rump disappeared inside.

 I was hardly recovered when Gretchen was in the same place, another dose of flawless skin bringing back the same memories. She and Cassie had met at Christmas, and liked each other immediately. 

 "This is sheer torture. Guys my age are always on the lookout for fresh pussy. You expose me to two of the best and expect me to behave?"

 I got a frosty look, "So your mother is reduced to being fresh pussy? That's a new one."

 I jammed my hand between her legs and sampled the pussy. Hot and wet. Probably needy. "This is very fresh and very special. I am going to ask Cassie for privileges with women she approves."

 Gretchen's tongue was in my mouth and my fingers were exploring her sun warmed tits. 

 "What if you just take me, like a brute, and we explain later?"

 I stood us up and walked toward her bedroom. She slithered out of my arms and said, "If Eleanor isn't poaching, neither am I. Do you suppose Cassie would actually give you a hall pass?" She giggled in my ear.

 By the sheerest coincidence, my cell started chiming in the distance. I ran for it. "Robert! It's me. We are back. Dad's disease acted up and the doctor told him to abandon the trip and return for treatment. When can I come over?"

 I was walking back to Gretchen and mouthed at her, "Cassie is back."

 "Mom is right here, let me ask her."

 She took the phone, "Cassie, it's good to hear your voice. He has been pining away. What about a swim and some late lunch?"

 After a few more words, she hung up and smiled at me. "That girl has the hots for you, Robert. She is coming right over. I think I have an urgent shopping trip to make. Call me when it is safe to return."

 My Cassie was already in her suit and went straight for the diving board, with a front flip into the water. I dove from the shallow end and came up under her, sliding my hands up to the fine boobs.

 "Hey, girl, it's good to see you." The kiss was long and hot. She could feel hardness through the shorts. "I missed you."

 We lay against the edge and kissed some more.

 "Do you want me now or later?" I asked. I had the top of her suit down and her stiff nipples in my fingers.

 "What about Gretchen?"

 "Mom had a sudden shopping requirement. I think she likes you."

 "So if I ran through the house screaming, no one would hear me?"

 "I could find her flogger and give you a real reason to scream."

 She slapped my head and said, "Ok, lover, take me to your bed."

 I put her over my shoulder, caveman style, and paddled the white behind as we ascended the stairs.

 I tossed her from five feet away, and she landed spread eagle, laughing at me and the tent in my wet shorts. "Why are those on?"

 I slipped them over my erection and they dropped to the floor. He was hard and menacing. "In the novels, it says that if I ravish you, I have to marry you."

 As he buried himself in her welcoming pussy, she wailed, "Yes, love me and marry me!"

 She didn't stop crying for more until I had filled her twice and she had shuddered through several climaxes.

 "Damn, I needed that."

 I pulled her in tight, head on shoulder. "Mom and her friend Eleanor have been teasing me. Saying they wouldn't think of poaching, but they go swimming and lounging with nothing on when I am sitting there."

 "How awful. It makes you hard, doesn't it?"

 "They have nice bodies. There should be males around keeping them in line."

 Her tongue found mine and we kissed again.

 "You are not able to do that?"

 "You are a witch. I am trying to be honest and all I get is..."

 She eased on top and wiggled her sex on my cock. "I think I should give you a license to chase them and do them."

 "What about being exclusive and all that?" I had a tight grip on her muscled globes.

 "If I get to watch, you could tell them I approve." She reached down and slipped him inside. 

 "Where did your sudden kink come from? Did you and the folks go to one of those Paris reviews?"

 She sat up and smiled. "I thought my tits were good enough for you."

 He flipped them over and drove hard. She let out a long "Yessss."

 By the time their breathing was back to normal, she was asleep. He crept away and called Gretchen.

 "Hi, the excitement is over. She is having a nap."

 "That bad, eh. You must do good things to her."

 "Next thing, you will be wanting to watch."

 "I do. I do. I'm bringing steak home. Enough for the four of us, her folks too, if they would like to come. You have to be the man and cook meat, open wine, make drinks."

 "Love you, mom. You're neat."

 I went out to clean the grill. Every part of me felt tuned up and ready for more. My girlfriend was home and loving me and handing out hunting licenses for older women. 

 Cassie's folks took a pass because Jim wasn't feeling well. The doctor had given him a new prescription when they got home, and his body was reacting to it.

 Dinner was outside in the warm evening. The steak was rare, the wine was excellent cabernet, and there was a full bowl of salad. The women had tops over bare boobs and gave me sultry looks, inviting pinches. Actually, I felt them up each time I refilled wine glasses, and got low hums. Cheeks were pink and sex was in the air. Eleanor teased me about my writing, saying she knew I had a novel in me since the days I was her student.

 I stared at her and said, "You and I will talk. You didn't teach me how damn hard writing is."

 She answered, "It is consuming. You get recognition for one story. And another. The world is at your door and the publisher wants to know when you will have more. You sit at your desk in the morning, and nothing happens."

 Gretchen said, "They all suffer. Hemingway finally killed himself. I'm not sure I want my son to live like that."

 Cassie had serious eyes and said, "His girlfriend doesn't want him to either."

 We had dessert inside on the sofa. They grabbed a blanket and crunched in with me. Cassie said, in an accusing tone, "He tells me you have been after him, talking about poaching."

 Cassie was lying on Ellie, rubbing her crotch. My teacher said, "Cassie, he is big and studly. Gretchen and I are just feeling all that maleness. Does he take care of you properly?"

 Cassie had her hand inside Ellie's tank top, exploring. "Why don't you two hot things have guys chasing you?"

 Gretchen was on me and my hands were in forbidden places, making her flinch. "We are high maintenance. Not an easy lay. We want a good cock, and more besides." Her hand was between my legs. She added, "Someone like Robert."

 Cassie said, "Let's take this upstairs. We need to talk to him about love, and writing, and great stories."

 She peeled off her top and stood there, massaging her boobs. "There is something in the air in this house that makes me want to be naked." Her shorts came off and there was bare female underneath. She led us to Gretchen's bed and turned down the covers. Her stare at me was bold. "Lover, please bring your women some decaf and the cognac bottle."

 When I returned with a tray, they were clustered in the big bed, boobs on display. I served and was ordered to the middle, with Cassie on one side, and Eleanor on the other.

 "I'm not sure how serious I can be with three incredible female bodies next to me."

 Cassie pulled my hair and said, "We were discussing interesting story lines. You have to have an exciting plot to attract readers. Especially if you are new."

 I said, "If you look at the young adult novels, there is plenty of excitement. Family disasters. Dark rumors about the castle on the hill. Pretty young women hurling themselves on pirates. Or vice versa."

 They looked at me. "I am not a writer of young adult trash, despite my age."

 Cassie pushed me down and lay on top. I massaged her butt and the other women noticed.

 "What about a small town tale of intrigue. We could be your advisors. Eleanor will tell you about strange and suspicious men who come to the library."

 Gretchen added her hand to mine on Cassie's muscled butt. "I could advise you about the sex parts. The husbands cheating on frigid wives. The divorcees shacked up with younger guys because they have discovered they need a hard cock every night."

 Cassie's head shot up. "What about the private investigators sneaking around in the bushes?"

 I said, "What about the kids crying themselves to sleep because their mom and dad just had another terrible fight?"

 There was a long silence after that. Cassie put her head down and tightened her grip on me.

 "I'm sorry. Didn't need to say that."

 Gretchen put the light out and burrowed in to me. Eleanor did the same on the other side. Cassie asked, "I'm supposed to sleep up here?"

 Gretchen said, "Life can be tough. We are lucky to have Robert."

 There was quiet humming. I wondered about how to write and take care of my women at the same time, and fell asleep.

 In the morning, Cassie was on her side between Ellie and me. I nibbled on her neck and she twitched.

 I was nice and hard. Cassie raised her thigh to let him grow and he poked up along her cleft. She giggled and Eleanor woke up and turned to us. "You two are bad. I suppose you want some privacy?"

 Gretchen's hand was across me, discovering where my equipment had gone. "He is right up against her sex. How does he get those privileges, Cassie?"

 "He is very nice to me. I come every time. I told him he could have sex with you if you wanted. He said you told him you wanted him but weren't going to poach." She reached down and slipped me inside. I fondled her boob and pinched a fat nipple.

 Gretchen and Ellie went in the bathroom. I whispered, "Should I go after them now?"

 She squeezed me and said, "Yes. Do Ellie first. I want to see your cock wet with me go plunging straight in."

 The showered women returned, toweling themselves and looking at the two of us tightly coupled.

 Ellie said, "I think he is in her."

 Cassie grinned, "You better come and find out." She reached out her arms to the sexy librarian, who fell on the bed into a hot clinch. I eased back out of the way and around to their open thighs. Ellie was so busy frenching Cassie, she didn't know what was happening until my big, hard cock was driving a path into her underused cunt. 

 "Oh, Robert, yes. Take me. I'm just a lousy poacher."

 Gretchen laughed and climbed on the bed, her beautiful tits bouncing. I reached an arm and pulled her over Ellie's back. My hand descended on her white rump at the same time I drove hard into Ellie, who was still kissing Cassie. This was a lovely pile of sexy women. I swatted Ellie's ass and told her to hurry up and come, her friend was waiting. Her cunt was throbbing and another hard swat did it. "Oh yes, that is the best..."

 I flipped Gretchen on her back with my cock ready at her entrance. "Yes?" I asked.

 "Yes!" We collided hard and fast. She was caught in the moment, and wanted what her friends had gotten. I whispered, "I've saved the best for last, now come!"

 She screamed and bucked up and I unleashed the firehose, flipping us at the same time. She moaned and shook and took hits from Cassie and Eleanor. "Look at that slutty thing. Have you watched a better climax? That woman knows how to come."

 Cassie sat up and said, "Well, you have poached on my property. What do you have to say for yourselves?" She leaned down and licked some come from my wilting prick.

 Gretchen and Ellie were in a clinch, whispering. I also wanted a taste and wormed my way between their twined legs. Cassie joined me and we feasted on the orgasmic bodies. 

 "Ellie, we have been totally had. Two of them at once. We'll never recover."

 Breakfast was on the patio, served by Cassie and me. The cougars sat there in workout clothes, glowing. 

 "Ladies, it's been a pleasure helping you with your early morning workout. I recommend it every day, if possible."

 "Jerk!" Cassie had my long hair in her fist and I was being dragged away for our run.

 "I didn't say you could do that again. Only the French have menage a trois, and we are four! 

 "Hey, you saw how fired up they were. Both of them have been on an abstinence diet and it showed."

 "If my mom finds out about this, she will have a fit."




The English Teacher



"Don't count on her not finding out. What's your story when she asks why your sexy boyfriend is getting it on with older women?" 

 "I don't have any idea and you are responsible for thinking one up. This is all your fault!"

 She looked at me and laughed. "I know, you are going to tell me it's not your fault women love that big tool of yours."

 "Well?"

 "I'm taking you home and watching how far you get with my mom. She is pretty lonely now that dad is so sick. If you've taken one mom, you might as well have the other."

 I swatted her bottom. "Speaking of coming on to people, you are hotter than the tin roof cat."

 She danced away. "I like everything you do to me. Is it ok that I'm acting slutty?"

 "Better than pretending you have something super precious between your legs."

 "Robert! That's cheap and nasty. I've never behaved that way."

 "But a lot of your friends have. I just about fainted when you told me on my birthday we were having sex."

 Cassie laughed and punched me all the way to her house. We climbed the stairs to the back deck, tired and sweaty and laughing. Sarah came out and said, "Look at you. Get down there and use the outdoor shower. I want all that sweat and smell gone before you come in my house."

 Cassie got a bucket and tossed her running outfit in it. She looked at me and said, "Yours too. We can wash them together."

 We were all soaped up and rubbing on each other when Sarah came back with towels. She leaned on the railing and inspected us. "Robert, you are very manly. No wonder Cassie is hot for you. Look at those muscles."

 Cassie was stroking my cock and getting it hard, and smiling up at her mother at the same time. "Yes, mom, he has fantastic muscles."

 "Young lady, if I had acted like that when I was your age, my poor behind would have been red for a week."

 We were on the porch, wrapped in towels, with Sarah squeezed between us. Cassie kissed her mother's neck and said, "I'm lucky you raised me to be relaxed about sex. And you made sure I understood that women are entitled to enjoy sex as much as men." 

 Sarah looked at Cassie's man, and asked, "What do you think, Robert, does Cassie enjoy sex as much as you do?" Her eyes were wide and a little wild. Cassie dropped her towel on the railing and hugged her mom from the back, squeezing the pillowy breasts.

 "Cassie! What are you doing attacking me in front of Robert?"

 I took Sarah's face in my big hands and kissed her on the lips very gently, saying, "You are the most attackable mom I know." 

 I stepped forward and my towel dropped too. The very hard cock poked right between Sarah's legs. 

 "Hey, what are you up to?"

 "Sarah, since you brought up the subject of sex, we are having some innocent fun. Relax and enjoy."

 Cassie had Sarah's dress and panties off in a second, and guided her to the railing, gently pressing her upper body down and revealing a fine mature behind with pussy lips showing. The daughter took a position in front of Sarah's legs and plunged her tongue forward at the same time that Robert's cock entered her cunt with a tremendous shove.

 Sarah twisted and tried to scream, but Cassie whispered into her struggles, "God, mom, I like your tits. So much better than my roommate's. I've been meaning to tell you about all the girl sex that goes on in my dorm. I was paralyzed at first, but am completely bi now. I want to try us out the first chance I get."

 The mature woman was being worked from both sides, moans slipping out in increasing volume. "This is bad. I can't do this. Cassie, he is your boyfriend!"

 "Yes. He keeps me very happy with that big prick. Doesn't it feel nice? I have a deep dark secret to tell you. He just made Gretchen and Eleanor happy too. I got to watch. They screamed their fool heads off, and we decided you shouldn't be left out."

 Sarah moaned, "Oh no," and fell into a fine climax of her own. "Oh, oh, oh, this is so bad."

 Cassie pulled my cock out of her mother and sucked on him, right through her mom's legs. Sarah couldn't believe the bobbing head just under her hanging tits that I was massaging. 

 Cassie took me out of her mouth and said, "Mom, he is ready. You are going to get a dose of the same stuff he gives me. It is really fine. Robert! Finish her!"

 Sarah went totally rigid as I spurted, no strength left. As her toned body sagged against the railing, I picked the quivering mother up in my arms and strode down the stair and under the shower.

 We clung together under the warm water. She mumbled, "Thank you. Thank you. I can't remember when I've had such nice sex. Cassie's father is impotent because of his disease and has been after me to find a partner."

 Cassie was with us, kissing and hugging. "That's right, mom. I've found you a guy. A wonderful guy I already love and who will take care of both of us."

 Sarah had me in a death grip. "You are such a bad boy. Three old ladies in one day! Did my Cassie put you up to this?"

 "Mom, I read on the web that regular sex is essential for good health!"

 Sarah wrapped herself in a large towel and led us inside. She picked up the phone and called Gretchen. "Your son is standing naked in my kitchen. Would you like to bring him some dry clothes and stay for lunch? Bring Ellie too."

 I was handed a beer and told to relax while the women found fresh clothes. With a couple of towels, I was decent when Ben hobbled in with his cane in hand. "Robert, it's good to see you. I got a glimpse of you out the window pleasuring my women. Wonderful sight."

 "Ben, you old goat. Voyeuring poor Robert." Sarah was smiling and almost giggling. She hugged her husband and said, "You did tell me to find a guy..."

 "Damn right. He must be pretty good if Cassie is willing to share."

 "Dad! Do we have to have all the details?"

 He laughed and said, "Daughter, if you don't know it already, you shouldn't marry a guy you don't enjoy fucking!"

 She hugged and kissed her father and called him a dirty old man. He pinched her bottom and agreed he was.

 There were six for lunch, including three sexually satisfied mature women who kept looking at each other and blushing. Ben finally said, "Robert, I've never seen women their age acting like coeds again. You must have some special tonic for them."

 Three sets of eyes fastened on me, and the look in them wondered whether there could be more poaching. Cassie saw the exchange of looks and laughed, "Oh my, Robert is going to be busy."

 As we cleaned up, Ellie grabbed me and said, "Do you seriously want to talk about writing?"

 "Yes. Do you?"

 "Why don't you and Cassie come along to my house and we will talk."

 Eleanor announced to the others that Cassie and I were in detention at her house for remedial English and might not be home for dinner.

 I sat on Ellie's down sofa with Cassie curled into me. I tried to remember eighth grade English and started talking while Ellie was still fixing some drinks in the kitchen.

 "I'm trying to remember my English class with you. I was so impressed with your vocabulary. I went home and told Gretchen about it and she told me you were exceedingly well educated and I was to pay strict attention."

 Cassie giggled and ran her fingers through my hair. 

 Ellie handed us tall glasses of a mystery fruit drink and sat at the end of the sofa. Her features were soft and not at all the firmness I remembered.

 "Cassie, the girl in front of him was busy growing bigger tits everyday and he kept looking over her shoulder trying to see down her blouse. That's the trouble with eighth grade, everyone's hormones are raging. I learned that if I gave them something romantic, they actually did read it."

 Cassie stretched her legs and Ellie took the bare feet into her lap for a massage. "So you survive being a teenager and start having real sex, but life only gets more complicated..."

 Ellie looked down the length of the sofa at me and said, "You decide you have to write about it. The smarter part of you knows this to be a foolish quest, but the daring, adventure part wants to reach down inside and pull out a great story. A story that others will admire and read, and importantly, pay money to purchase, else you will starve."

 Ellie's fingers were busy on Cassie's feet, making the body on my lap twitch. I leaned and kissed her. Shortly, a toe was in Ellie's mouth and Cassie was moaning. My hand, which had been concentrating on a tickle spot, moved higher. 

 I said, "My college lit teacher is a deconstructionist. Peels writers down to the quick and finds nothing worth saving."

 Cassie was wiggling a storm, as the torture of her feet got worse. "Where does that get you? Writers aren't all bad. Except Ellie, that is, she is terrible."

 I decided to take the discussion upstairs, and gathered Ellie quickly into my arms and over my shoulder, with a firm hand on her muscled behind. We arrived in the middle of a large bedroom with a large bed. Cassie proceeded to remove her clothing and Ellie's clothing, after which I got them between the sheets and announced I would return with the drinks. After I spiked them, which the women didn't need to know.

 They were in a tight clinch, rolling about and calling each other names. I made myself comfortable on the side of the bed and waited for things to calm down. "My goodness," I said, "you have a lot of energy for two women who had hard sex not long ago."

 They lay on their backs, everything showing, and said, "We decided we like each other. Like each other that special way. Are we in trouble with you?"

 I crouched over the two gorgeous bodies, licking and kissing. "Yes. Bad trouble. You are supposed to be teaching me how to write the great American novel instead of making out."

 We got three bodies arranged against each other, but the next activity was napping rather than writing instruction. 

 I opened my eyes and found them to the side of the bed whispering. I reached out a hand and caressed soft, curvy flesh. They moved to kiss me, trading my lips back and forth. 

 "You wouldn't be so relaxed if I hadn't been in you this morning, would you?"

 "No, but you don't have to rub it in."

 "Hey, I'm the student here, you are the teachers."

 Cassie said, "You and I are going to the grocery to find the ingredients for dinner. Ellie insists on making a fruit tart while we are gone. She also said we may have to sleep over."

 I closed my eyes and said, "No one wants to read novels about normal people having warm, loving experiences like we are. They want blood and gore and violent sex and death at the hands of evil men. Maybe you need to dump me out in the bad part of town with nothing but rags on my back."

 Ellie's voice was firm, "Save that thought. Class will reconvene later."

 The next several days were weird. Ellie was completely seized by the role of writing instructor and coach. She kept making daily calls to Gretchen and Sarah, saying that Cassie and I were progressing in our writing and by the weekend would be ready for a literary party. She wouldn't say what that meant. Every morning and afternoon, we were handed a typed sentence on a piece of paper and told we had two hours to develop the sentence in two thousand words or more. After the writing period, we were to engage in vigorous exercise for two more hours until mealtime.

 Cassie was surprised to be transformed from girlfriend to writer. Eleanor's only comment was, "It will do good things for your mind."

 Over dessert in the evening, our papers were critiqued, with no punches pulled. The more we put our hearts into the work, the harsher the criticism. We could tell it was hard on Eleanor, but she was determined to see the week through to her event on Saturday evening. Each day, she adjusted the assignments. We worked our way through time and place and chronological sequence and character development. It was as though she was opening the curtains in a large room, so that we saw more of the outside world.

 The assignments on Saturday morning were the hardest yet. A college student was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor and had only a short time left. He (in my case) and she (in Cassie's case) had determined to write a note to friends and family about dying. We were to write those notes.

 Both of us exclaimed, "Ellie, this is too hard, too terribly sad. We can't do it."

 "A good writer must deal with uncomfortable facts. People die. How they die, what they die for are enduring mysteries. Go and write those notes. Put something of yourselves into them."

 There was a very uncomfortable silence when we handed in our work. Cassie took my hand and I pulled her to me. 

 Ellie looked at us calmly and said, "You are free until four o'clock. Do something together that takes your mind off writing. I will have further instructions at four. Others are invited for drinks and dinner at six."

 We decided to clear out our brains on the running path. As we entered the bedroom to change, Cassie pushed me against the wall. "I love you." Pressed together, we rocked quietly. I kissed the top of her head and said, "I didn't mean to drag you into this."

 She stepped back and pounded on my chest. "Excuses will get you nowhere. I'm still going to marry you and starve as you tear novels from that dumb brain of yours."

 The farther we ran, the happier we got. At four, freshly showered, we appeared at Ellie's door.

 "Come in and sit. You can't have any alcohol yet. These are very good." She pointed at the papers on her desk. "So good that I am going to throw you a curve ball. At six-thirty, when everyone is assembled and has had a drink, you are going to read these to a real audience. The catch is that you don't read your own work, you read your partner's. I want you to take them and spend an hour studying them and absorbing the mindset that produced them. Mingle with the guests when they arrive, but do not talk to each other until after the readings."

 Cassie and I were frozen to our chairs, black with rebellion at her unfairness, when she added, "I know this isn't fair. I wouldn't do it if your work wasn't so good. You both have talent. This is graduation. Graduation from your first immersive writing workshop. I can tell you are angry at your instructor. Be angry, but go out there and show them why these papers have A's on them."

 I picked up Cassie's paper and stalked out, furious. Ellie had completely fenced us in. Step by step, she had brought us to this moment, and left us no way out except to do what she asked.

 I sat against a tree in the far back of her yard and began to read. The student with the tumor was named Alicia. She was one of two children in an academic family. Cassie's narrative about the background was better than mine.

 Alicia had almost finished a very successful freshman year when severe headaches started. She'd never had them before and aspirin didn't help. After several days, her roommate insisted they go to the campus health clinic. Her medical history and routine examination did not reveal anything. 

 "Alicia, you need to take a day at the hospital for some brain scans. If you are almost fainting with the headaches, we have to take a closer look. I'm prescribing codeine right now so you can get some sleep." The M.D. was a woman and looked anxious. 

 The scans were frightening. The neurologist pointed to an oblong shadow on the screen. "This is a tumor. It is already sizable and rather deep in your brain. Several specialists and I will confer about removing it and talk to you tomorrow or the next day. I am sorry about this, but the image doesn't lie, and I need to be honest."

 In her roommate's arms that evening, Alicia sobbed and wailed, "I'm going to die, aren't I?"

 "We don't know Alicia. We don't know. Wait for the doctors to talk to you. We have to call your folks."

 The next three pages were harsh, sad and full of the hopelessness of terminal cancer. But Cassie made her young character resilient and determined to leave a legacy, even if a small one. The note to her parents and friends was heartbreaking. 

 How in god's name was I going to get through the reading? I was almost crying just reading it myself. This was amazing writing. Much better than mine. Shit.

 When the guests started arriving, Cassie and I glanced at each other from across the room. We were grim faced. But the guests were here for a literary party and didn't know our final exam was still in front of us. I put on my best party face and made small talk, sipping a very small amount of white wine. Gretchen kissed my cheek and asked, "Why are you so tense? Ellie says you did well."

 "Ask her," I said bitterly. She frowned and moved away.

 At six-thirty, Eleanor interrupted the buzz of conversation and said, "Friends, we are here to enjoy the beautiful evening and honor the graduates of my latest writing workshop. These are two talented young people. I will tell you in advance that I abused their good will by making the assignments as hard as I ever have. Harder than I give most professional writers. To make things worse, they have been required, as their final exam, to read to you a short work written by the other. Please give them your attention and say nothing until both papers have been read."

 She looked at us, pulled a coin from her skirt, and tossed it. She looked at the result and nodded at Cassie.

 She took the chair in front of the audience offered by Ellie and began in an even tone, reading the background I had written about Bryan. As the extent of his illness became apparent, her intonation changed, carrying the immediacy of the medical disaster that was occurring in his brain, and the blow that was delivered with the news that the tumor was inoperable. When she began his letter, she was able to capture the youth, strength, terror and resolution of his final words better than I could have ever hoped to.

 There was dead silence as I advanced to take my place. I got a hand squeeze as we passed. I unfolded the sheets of paper in my damp hands and looked up. There wasn't a dry eye in the room. I searched for some way to distinguish Alicia from Bryan. Some way to convey Cassie's emotions as she wrote Alicia's terrible words. I closed my eyes and began from memory, pushing everything but Alicia and her strength as she faced death out of my mind.

 I finished and looked up. There were rows of unhappy faces. Many of them had young adults to whom this could have happened. But Eleanor stood and started clapping. The atmosphere changed as people realized they were here to appreciate a story, not to grieve for a dead son or daughter. Cassie rushed me with a giant hug and wet kiss. "Robert! You were so good. I was crying and so were others."

 Everyone was standing and applauding. Sarah and Gretchen had us in their own hug. "Kids, that was incredible!"

 Eleanor approached, looking uncertain as to what her students would do to the obnoxious teacher. We left the moms and bound her up between us, applying kisses. 

 "You are going to get it, making us suffer so!"

 She whispered, "I've never had two students with such talent and determination. You are my stars!"

 It took the rest of the evening, being told too many times how we had made someone cry, for us to relax and put the stories on a mental shelf where they belonged. One of the women winked and said we were going to be a wonderful husband and wife writing team. Cassie nudged me and I hissed at her.

 As we were helping with cleanup, Sarah came up and quietly said to her daughter, "Go to his bed tonight. You are good for each other."

 A little while later, when everyone had left, we embraced Ellie against the pantry wall with full body presses. I said, "You are a dreadful ogre and are to report for breakfast at poolside."

 Cassie added, "Yes, an ogre. When we recover, we may need further instruction."




The English Teacher



She kissed and rocked with us. "It was hard on me too," she said in a small voice, "I didn't have any idea whether you could take that much pressure."

 I said in my best threatening male voice, "Yes, pressure. We will have more words about that." I stared hard at her without smiling. Nothing wrong with a little pushback at teacher.

 Gretchen was in bed as we walked in, shedding clothes and finding the shower to rid ourselves of sharp adrenalin stink.

 We came back toweling and she patted the bed, "Keep me company for a bit. That was great writing and great reading tonight. I don't know how Eleanor got those performances out of you, but the result was terrific. Sarah and I are really proud." 

 Snuggled against each side of mom's body was just what we needed. My eyes closed in seconds.

 In the sunlit morning, Gretchen was gone but Cassie had found me and cuddled. I kissed the side of her face and she whispered, "That was so hard. I think we are bonded pretty tight now."

 My fingers were probing between her legs. "Yes, but we need to be tighter." I eased her over and found a hot tunnel for my anxious cock.

 She laughed, "Is this tight enough?"