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Teacher's Pest Ch. 01

By: AverageBear



Author's Note: Feedback from readers -- whether favorable or not -- is always helpful to authors. Please vote and provide your comments! Regards, Average Bear

*

"Wrong again, Mr. Barry!" jeered Tiffany Criswell, interrupting the teacher's chemistry lecture, "they're INVERSELY proportional, not DIRECTLY proportional!"

David Barry began to once again seethe inside. He had become accustomed to the young woman's intellectual challenges over the course of the school year. The interruptions were becoming at least a weekly occurrence. Unfortunately, she was usually right. But it still felt like a kick in the groin every time she did it.

"What are you saying?" he responded. "Are you contradicting your teacher?"

"Only when he's WRONG," she replied caustically. "Just think about it logically, Mr. B. When the volume of a fixed amount of gas increases, the pressure HAS to decrease. You've got the same amount of gas in a larger space. Boyle's Law is that volume and pressure are INVERSELY proportional."

"Great," he thought silently to himself, "the little twerp has embarrassed me in front of the class once again."

Fuming, he said in his outer voice, "Miss Criswell, your logic is impeccable, but your attitude is dreadful. I simply misstated what I intended to say. But one more outburst like that, and you'll spend a week of lunches in detention."

The skinny blonde's saccharine smile turned to a scowl. A distinct pout caused her lower lip to protrude. She spat out a retort that only the kids seated near her could hear. Their laughter told Mr. Barry that the comment was none too flattering.

"That's it, Miss Criswell! No more lip. I want you to stay after class to discuss your punishment."

She muttered again, this time unintelligible to anyone in the vicinity.

Ten minutes later, as Mr. Barry finished describing their homework assignment, the bell signaled the end of 5th period. As the other students filed out, chattering and laughing, Tiffany remained behind, silent and stone-faced.

Mr. Barry pulled a chair up in front of the girl's desk.

"Tiffany, why do you have to keep yanking my chain?"

"I don't consider it to be 'yanking your chain'!" she blurted. "I just think a teacher should be more careful to teach things correctly. YOU'RE the one who should be in trouble, not ME!"

Mr. Barry was just about to the boiling point. His eyes blazed and his nostrils flared. She was pushing his buttons, and she knew it.

"Young lady, don't push me. I deserve far more respect than you're showing me now, or that you've shown me all year. You take that back or you'll regret it!"

"The only thing I regret is signing up for a chemistry class taught by a moron!" she spewed with venom.

David Barry had been sassed by this bespectacled, blonde-haired, blue-eyed brainiac one too many times. "That's it -- up you go, little witch! You're going to learn some manners!"

Tiffany's eyes grew wide as Mr. Barry moved toward her desk and towered over her. She felt a moment of panic, an instinct to run out the door. As she scurried up from her desk, her wrist was caught by Mr. Barry's firm grip.

Her desperate attempt to flee hurled her body circularly around the desk, her knee crashing into Mr. Barry's groin. He buckled from the impact. She crumpled in a heap on top of the desk.

David Barry was no longer thinking clearly. A year's worth of embarrassment from this brat had come to a head. Combine that with the physical injury to his manhood during her aborted escape -- these were the makings of a bad situation.

Without taking the time to count to ten and relax, Mr. Barry acted on his own instinct. He picked Tiffany up from the desk, sat down on the chair he had pulled over in front of it, and dropped her like a rag doll over his knee.

Tiffany was still limp when Mr. Barry said, "If you're going to act like a brat, you're going to get treated like a brat!"

With that, he cupped his large right hand and smacked Tiffany's taut rear-end with a stinging slap. Her body went immediately rigid, and a whimper escaped her lips. Even through her jeans, the spank made a sound loud enough to echo off the walls.

Twice more he lifted his hand and administered a slap across her rump. After the third spank, he pulled her up, glared into her eye, and said, "Had enough?"

Tiffany's mouth gaped open. She was silent for the better part of thirty seconds. The feistiness was gone; no sneering retort was left in her.

"Yes, Mr. B," she whispered.

"Well so have I!" he barked back at her, "no more sassing me in class, or there are plenty more where those came from!"

"Yes, Mr. B," she replied again.

"Good! Now get your little butt out of here, and don't make me smack it again!"

Tiffany grabbed her backpack and headed out the door. Mr. Barry watched her exit. He could have sworn she wiggled her ass just before she disappeared. "Just working out the sting, I'm sure," he thought to himself.

That night, David could barely sleep. "I'm gonna get fired," he kept thinking. "That little spitfire is going to have my job," he sulked.

It was a long night indeed. Back at school at 7AM, hair tousled and eyes bleary from exhaustion, David made a beeline for the teacher's lounge. He went directly to the coffee maker. As he was brewing the first pot, Principal Marklein entered the room.

"I need to see you in my office, Mr. Barry," Mr. Marklein rasped.

"Can I get a cup of java first?" enquired Mr. Barry, "I sort of need a shot of caffeine to get me going in the mornings."

"I don't think it can wait," said Mr. Marklein.

"Shit -- here it is!" thought Dave silently, "There goes my job!" Aloud, he said, "Be right there, sir!"

Principal Marklein left the room. Dave hesitated, then followed silently behind. All the way to the principal's office, Dave was trying to think of ways to deflect the hammer that was about to be dropped on him.

Tiffany was certainly out of line in disrespecting him, but corporal punishment had been banished from the school years ago, and teachers had never had the prerogative. Spanking had always been reserved for the principal.

Dave expected Tiffany's parents to be waiting for him in the principal's office -- waiting to pounce. He felt a wave of nausea in his stomach. "Suck it up," he thought, "take it like a man."

"Close the door," Mr. Marklein said after Dave walked into his office. Dave shut it gently. There was no one else besides the two of them in the room.

Mr. Marklein fixed a stern gaze on Dave, then raised an eyebrow.

"Mr. Barry, I have something serious to talk to you about," he began.

"Great," Dave thought, "lay it on me." Aloud he said, "Sir, let me start..."

"No need for that," Mr. Marklein said, cutting Dave off. "Mr. Barry, I know it's been a long year for you."

"You can say that again," replied Dave.

"And because of that," continued Mr. Marklein, "I'm sure you're looking forward to some time off."

"Shit!" thought Dave, "he's kicking me out!" Aloud, Dave said, "I guess you could say that."

"Well, the summer break's almost here -- " replied Mr. Marklein, "but not for you."

"Right. You want me to leave today," Dave's silent mind continued. Aloud, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"I'm sorry to say, but we need you to stay on for an extra week."

"What?" Dave sputtered, genuinely flabbergasted.

"We need you to act as an educational chaperone at the National Chemistry Contest in Washington, DC. It's the first week after the end of the school year."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Not at all. For the first time in the history of this school, we have a student who scored well enough on the qualifying exam to make it to the national finals."

Dave was floored. He was in his third year of teaching, only twenty-five years old, and he had taught a student well enough to make the National Chemistry Contest finals?

"W-w-what student?" Dave stammered, his brain beginning to comprehend the horrible truth.

"Why, Tiffany Carswell, of course!" beamed Mr. Marklein. "She's the smartest student in the school, and she waited until her senior year to take chemistry, so why shouldn't she blow that damn test out of the water?"

"Uh-huh," Dave managed to grunt. He hesitated, then asked, "Have you heard from Tiffany or her parents about this?"

"Oh yes, of course! Her parents let me know about the letter from the National Chemistry Contest organizers."

"And -- they didn't talk to you about -- anything else?"

"Like what?"

"Um, I don't know. About me?"

"Why, yes! They want you to be her chaperone."

"Why does she need a chaperone? She's eighteen, and I'm sure her parents will accompany her anyway."

"Well, that's just it. Each contestant must have a sponsor, so you'd need to be there anyway. But Tiffany's parents are going to be in Australia that week -- important business trip for her dad, and her mom's speaking at a conference of professors that same week. Her mom's smart as a whip, just like her daughter. And good looking as hell. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree!"

"So I need to babysit the brat for a week?" Dave complained.

"Don't think of it that way," said Mr. Marklein, "think of it as an opportunity to work on your patience -- and your interpersonal skills."

Dave grimaced. "She's the bane of my existence," he retorted.

"Look, Dave," replied Mr. Marklein, "I know she can be annoying. God knows, she's corrected every teacher she's had since the first grade. And she seems to have made it her mission to embarrass you in front of your chemistry class this year..."

"You -- you KNOW about that?" Dave asked.

"Of course -- kids talk, and word gets around. I don't know why YOU didn't come to talk to me about it..."

"It's -- too embarrassing. She makes me feel emasculated when she criticizes me. It's not at all in a spirit of jest. I can take a little razzing as much as the next guy, but this kid really seems to want to humiliate me."

"At least you're man enough to take it," Mr. Marklein commended, "some guys would have put her in her place by now."

"Some guys would have..." Mr. Barry's voice trailed off. "Yeah, some guys...So, you're sure Tiffany's parents didn't have anything else to say?"

"Only that they trust you more than any teacher she's ever had. She just raves to them about how smart you are and what a good guy you are."

"Holy shit!" Dave exclaimed aloud. Mr. Marklein's other eyebrow went up. "I -- I -- I mean, you're kidding, right? She acts like she can't STAND me."

"Well, not according to Mrs. Criswell. Such a pretty lady, you know -- and so smart! She had a twinkle in those beautiful baby blue eyes when she was talking about you. She said you'd be the PERFECT chaperone for her daughter! So -- you're in?"

"Do I get paid for the extra week?"

"Of course -- but standard pay, not overtime."

"Has the union okayed it?"

"Not to worry. I've asked Miss Thurman to take care of the details."

"I should get battle pay. But, whatever -- I guess I'm in."

"Great!" replied Mr. Marklein as he gave Dave a congratulatory slap on the shoulder.

Dave returned to the teacher's lounge to collect his cup of coffee, astonished at this turn of events.

Tiffany was absent from 5th period chemistry class for the next two days. David Barry began to worry. Was she really sick, as indicated by the parental voicemail left at the office? Or was she plotting her revenge for the spanking he had given her?

On the third day, Tiffany entered the classroom just as the tardy bell sounded. She was wearing a short plaid skirt, white shirt, plaid vest and white socks with black patent leather shoes -- and those dreadful, thick black-framed glasses.

"Funny," thought Dave, "I don't think I've ever seen her wear a skirt before. Usually just loose jeans or sweat pants and those dorky, bulky pullover sweaters."

"Take your seats, class," he bellowed above the din. "Take out your homework and pass it in, and turn in your textbooks to page 473."

Immediately, Tiffany's hand shot up. "I don't have my homework, Mr. B.," she stated flatly, peering over her glasses.

"That's okay -- you've been sick. You can make up for it later," smiled Mr. Barry.

She smiled an impish grin. "I'm SURE you'll find a way for me to 'make up for it later'," she answered suggestively, emphasizing the 'make up for it later' statement with finger quotes raised in the air.

Mr. Barry's face flushed, beet red. Once again, he was humiliated -- not at his own carelessness or stupidity this time, but at essentially being attributed lecherous designs on a high school student.

"That's enough, Miss Criswell," replied Mr. Barry.

"What's the matter, Teach? Haven't got the balls to carry through on your threats?"

David Barry was becoming livid once again. He paused long enough to gather himself. "Man enough to take it," Dave told himself silently, "don't let her get to me. Thanks, Marklein."

In front of the class, he managed to cast a sneer in Tiffany's direction. "I won't justify that comment with a response, Miss Criswell," he said, "you can simply see me after class about your punishment for your backtalk."

"Ooh -- seein' Mr. B. after class for 'punishment'," chortled Willie Skaggs from the front of the class, amused at himself and emphasizing 'punishment' with his own set of finger quotes.

"Careful, Mr. Skaggs, or you'll be meeting me too!" warned Mr. Barry. Willie went silent. The class went about passing in homework and turning to page 473.

After a brief lecture and a class lab featuring a fiery reaction between gummy bears and potassium chlorate, Mr. Barry gave an overview of the upcoming final exam. He suggested that students with questions or difficulties come to an upcoming lunchtime study session, or see him to schedule a one-on-one review time.

As the bell rang, students filed out once more. Mr. Barry noticed Tiffany lingering behind. He'd nearly forgotten that he had asked her to stay after class so he could mete out punishment for her "haven't got the balls" comment.

By this time, Dave was no longer angry. He was prepared to let her off with a warning. He looked at Tiffany; she was peering at him through her owlish glasses. Their thick black frames did her no favors. He almost sensed that she wanted to look studious rather than stylish.

She seemed to sense his resignation about her punishment. Rather than letting the proverbial sleeping dog lie, she said, "Guess you really DON'T have the balls -- or its accompanying little male FRIEND -- to carry through on your threats!"

"Mr. Marklein be damned!" thought Dave. He wasn't going to let this kid talk to him like that! Dave took Tiffany by the elbow and pulled her toward him. "That's IT, young lady!" he spat, "You've pushed me far enough!"

He was seeing red. He walked her over to his desk, still gripping her elbow. He sat down in his chair, and not-so-gently turned her over his knee.

On impulse, Mr. Barry decided to make it really sting. Without due consideration, he raised her skirt to administer the spanking. To his shock and horror, Tiffany wore no panties! Her bare white ass was awaiting his punishment.

Dave nearly stopped in his tracks, but he was still fuming. Tiffany offered some feeble resistance to the spanking, her legs wriggling but not really kicking hard enough to get free. He wasn't going to let her out of it so easily!

Dave held her legs still with his right arm and gave her a left-handed spanking. The sound of the "Thwack!" on her bare rump once again echoed off the classroom walls, but this time with a different timbre.

Since Dave wasn't left-handed, he assumed the spanking was not as hard as the one he'd given her through her jeans a few days before. However, after he had whacked her butt three times, he noticed red left handprints imprinted on her lily white skin.

He quickly lowered her skirt in shame. "Crap!" he thought, "I've done it again! And this time it could be construed as sexual abuse, not just physical! My ass is fired for sure!"

Dazed by the situation, his actions were controlled by reflex rather than by thought. He stood Tiffany up and left her beside his chair. He walked over to her desk, picked up her backpack, and handed it to her.

"You may leave now, Miss Criswell," he stated flatly, "and we'll have no more of your lip, lest you suffer the consequences a third time." His words always dripped with sarcasm and grew longer when he wanted to play the authority card.

"Yes, Mr. B.," Tiffany replied meekly, "I'll keep my mouth closed. At least, until you want me to open it." Her posture was one of utter acquiescence.

"And here's a free tip," Mr. Barry added, "if you're going to wear a skirt, make sure and wear some panties. There's no telling what kind of perverts around here might try to cop a look or a feel if they knew you weren't covering your privates."

Tiffany's face turned crimson. She looked as if she were about to cry.

"Oh, no," thought Dave, "here it comes. She's going to blast me for humiliating her, for seeing and smacking her bare ass. I'm not just gonna get fired, I'm gonna get sued!"

Outwardly, he tried to ease the tension with a gentle pat on Tiffany's shoulder. "Now get outta here, kid, before I have to punish you again!" he smiled, replacing gruffness with humor.

He caught a glint of something in Tiffany's eye, but it was muted by her thick lenses. "Um, sure, Mr. B.," she said, "see ya tomorrow." She strapped on the backpack, turned toward the door and left.

"Shit!" thought Mr. Barry. "She's gonna run home and tell Mommy and Daddy. Ideal chaperone, my ass! Forget Washington, DC after the school year -- they're gonna run me out of town tomorrow!"

To his surprise, Dave suffered no reprisals from the Criswells the next day, nor the day after that. Tiffany went back to wearing jeans after her foray into the world of skirts -- apparently Dave had sufficiently embarrassed her, or perhaps his warning about the perverts in the school had had an effect.

She was better behaved in class, offering no zingers or challenges to her chemistry teacher -- until the extra study session at lunchtime on Friday. Thankfully, only three students had bothered to attend. 

"Should have made it some day other than Friday," Tiffany asserted as she looked around the nearly empty room, "even a moron knows that all the kids like to hang out at the Pizza Palace for their five-dollar buffet on Fridays."

Dave tried to ignore the "moron" comment. He noticed that something was different about Tiffany.

He took time to observe that she was once again wearing a skirt, this one satiny and sparkling, almost like a ballerina's outfit. A matching top featured sequins and frills, with a tiara to match. A freakin' tiara! And -- catch this -- she had lost the black-rimmed glasses! She could easily be mistaken for a very pretty girl.

"I'm sorry the scheduling doesn't meet with your approval," Dave stated in his most teacher-like tone, "but, after all, one must make some sacrifices if one wishes to excel."

"Damned straight!" she replied enthusiastically.

"I'm glad you agree," he said, "but please refrain from vulgar language in my class."

"Like hell!" she replied.

Dave was beginning to simmer. "Are you trying to get me to dole out some more punishment to you, Miss Criswell?"

"Do what you've gotta do," she replied, "I can take anything you can dish up. And I mean -- anything at all."

The other two kids perked up at this comment. "She means ANYTHING, Mr. B.," said Willie, thrusting a lone finger through a cupped hand in an obscene gesture.

"Enough!" shouted Mr. Barry, "Let's finish the review session. And Miss Criswell, I want you to stay behind after 5th period class."

"You want to do WHAT to my behind after 5th period class?" she countered.

Dave was aghast -- she was about to out him for what he'd done! "Stop mocking me," he said quietly, "just stay after class to discuss your punishment. Fifth period, not now, since that's at the end of the school day."


Teacher's Pest Ch. 01



"And what did you have in mind that will take us more than a few minutes? I can't imagine that you'd be up for more than a quickie. At least, that's what I heard that your girlfriend says..."

"That's IT!" Dave bellowed, "Willie and Sarah, I want you to leave. Go on and join the others at the Pizza Palace. I'll re-schedule the review session for a more appropriate day than Friday." He waited until they had gathered up their things and left.

"And YOU, young lady -- get the hell out of my class and march your ass down to Mr. Marklein's office. I'll let HIM deal with your nonsense."

Tiffany began to pout. Dave noticed the fullness of her lips, the shine of the overhead lights reflecting off her ruby red lip gloss. For the first time, he registered the extreme beauty of her eyes. She must be wearing contact lenses, he realized, since surely she couldn't see clearly without those Coke bottle lenses she usually wore.

"But, Mr. B., it's lunchtime. Mr. Marklein has cafeteria duty. And besides, I want YOU to be the one..."

"The one... to what?" stammered Dave, still fuming, confused by her unfinished statement.

"Never mind," Tiffany sighed, "I guess I can't expect a moron to figure things out."

"Moron? If you use that word with me one more time, Tiffany, I'm going to have no choice but to turn you over my knee again!"

"Is that a promise -- MORON?"

And with that, Tiffany lay across Mr. Barry's chair and hiked up her skirt. Her creamy white ass cheeks were once again completely exposed.

To his consternation, Mr. Barry felt the unexpected stir of his cock in his pants. He'd never felt anything sexual toward his students before. After all, they were just kids. They were immature, not his intellectual or emotional equals.

But Tiffany was different. She was certainly his intellectual equal -- probably his superior. At eighteen, she was more mature than most of her peers. But she was still a kid in many ways. She was a thorn in his side, taking verbal jabs at him frequently and mercilessly, baiting him and embarrassing him in front of the class. What the hell was wrong with her?

And now, here she was, completely vulnerable, exposed from the waist down. And apparently -- wanting him to spank her!

Suddenly, he could see the manipulation for what it was. Ever since that first spanking, she seemed to find opportunities to more fiercely and more deliberately push his buttons. Was it to get him to do it again? Surely she would have told somebody if it had humiliated her in the way he figured it would. She could have gotten him fired by now, but instead she was back for more.

"Put your damned skirt back down, Tiffany," commanded Mr. Barry, "you are one fucked up kid."

"I'm NOT a kid!" declared Tiffany, "and... I've never been fucked..."

"TMI, Tiffany -- 'Too Much Information'. Your love life isn't my business. And you've just proven that you ARE a kid. A mature woman wouldn't practically beg a man she's not involved with to spank her bare ass."

The remark hit its target. Tiffany's lower lip quivered. Tears began to stream down her face. She flipped her skirt back down, grabbed her backpack, and headed toward the door. "Not INVOLVED?" she shouted tearfully as she left the room.

That night, Dave once again struggled to sleep. He was troubled deep in his soul. Every grain of professionalism within him told him it was wrong to lust after one of his students. But he couldn't help it.

His brain seemed to be running in overdrive. It kept playing back the events of lunchtime in slow motion. And despite the fact that she could be annoying as hell and had a lot of growing up to do, Dave had to admit to himself that he found her exquisitely attractive, both intellectually and physically.

As he lay awake, Dave could see Tiffany's beautiful blue eyes, no longer masked by those ridiculous eyeglasses, in his mind's eye. She was just like the nerdy girls in teen movies who turn out to be thinly-veiled foxes, tainted only by a bad pair of glasses and frumpy clothes.

He saw the gloss of her luscious ruby red lips, daring to spar with him verbally, then pouting when things didn't go her way. He wanted to kiss those lips.

He saw blonde tendrils of her silken mane of hair drifting out from under her tiara. He wanted to feel her hair sweep across his naked chest, and further down toward more erogenous zones.

He saw the sequins on her ballerina top glistening in the fluorescent light, the slight swell of her maturing breasts peeking above the "V" neckline. He wanted to touch, to fondle, to suckle below the neckline.

He saw her long, supple legs, white rather than tan, exposed from ankle to high thigh in her short skirt and patent leather shoes. He wanted to massage those legs, to taste the essence of her fair skin. The whiteness conveyed a sense of purity, of innocence. And what was it she had said about having never been fucked?

And then he saw her beautiful bare buttocks, exposed to him through her simple act of submission in presenting them to him for her punishment. He wanted to plant his erection between those beautiful buttocks, taking her feminine slit doggy style. Her declaration that she could take anything -- "anything at all" -- drifted through his mind time and time again.

He mentally explored what could comprise the "anything." Hadn't she said she'd keep her mouth shut until he wanted her to open it? He could think of something for which she could open it. Or maybe he could punish her rear end with something more creative than his open palm. Or maybe he could flip her over from that bare-assed position and punish her virgin pussy, missionary style, with his raging hard-on.

"Damn," he thought, "I need a girlfriend! It's been WAY too long. I can't pine away after some bratty kid who's never gonna happen!"

He rested in fits and starts for the remainder of the night, opting not to relieve the massive boner that thoughts of Tiffany had stirred in him. He'd be damned if he was going to jack off to thoughts of a senior chemistry student.

"Mr. B., can I talk to you?" asked Tiffany in the hallway the next morning.

"Sure, Tiffany," Dave answered guardedly, "what's on your mind?" He noticed a change in her demeanor, and inhaled the scent of her freshly washed hair.

"You mentioned that you'd give some one-on-one time to students who need extra prep for the final exam. Can I meet with you sometime soon?"

"But Tiffany -- you're my best student..."

A smile lit up her face. He had deftly pushed the pride button. "Um... okay, Mr. B., let me just be straight with you. I need to talk to you one-on-one about something besides chemistry. Something... personal."

Her eyes -- again sans glasses -- shimmered with eagerness. Her perky freckled nose twitched briefly with nervousness.

"Don't you think you should see Ms. Wygal? She's the designated guidance counselor for girls. She can help with... personal matters."

"This doesn't have anything to do with HER," Tiffany replied petulantly, "it has to do with YOU."

"Shit!" thought Dave, "She's gonna give me my come-uppance about spanking her. Maybe she's going to blackmail me!"

"Oh, I see," he said aloud. "Well, in that case, how about during lunch today?"

"How about after school?" she said, "And how about at your place? I'd prefer for it to be where nobody else can interrupt us."

Dave's brain was flashing red lights and sounding warning bells. His professional ethics and fiduciary responsibilities would in no way allow for him to meet a student for personal consultation at his own home.

"Uh, I don't think that's such a good idea, Tiffany," he replied.

The disappointment was written all over her face. "Why not?" she asked.

"Well, um, Tiffany," he started, "some people could see it as inappropriate. I mean, after all, with me being a man and you a young woman..."

Tiffany's radiant smile beamed from ear to ear, dazzling Dave with its sincerity. "Young woman?" she asked, "Don't you mean 'kid'?"

Dave was tempted to reply cynically with a caustic quip, but he somehow couldn't bring himself to do it. Temper tantrums and bare-assed spankings aside, he had to admit that Tiffany was a blossoming young woman.

"No, you're no kid," he said, "I was just yanking your chain yesterday. Turnabout's fair play."

Tiffany once again lit up the hallway with her smile. "Well, regardless of what people think, I'll be by your house at 5:00. I won't take 'no' for an answer!"

As she started to walk away, Dave blurted, "But how do you know where I live?"

"Mr. B," Tiffany retorted, "any MORON can use the phone book, whether in print or on-line!" With that, she flashed him a devilish grin and darted up the hallway.

At 4:52 PM, Dave peered out his front window for a third time. He didn't know whether to run or to turn on some mood music.

He opted to straddle the line, and set out some soft drinks on the table between the two chairs on his front porch. He'd keep her outside on this nice late spring day, so that nobody could accuse him of taking advantage of her behind closed doors.

At 4:58, Dave could see her in the distance, walking down the sidewalk in his direction. His heart began to race, and his cock began to stir. He felt perspiration above his lip and on his forehead.

"Damn! That girl is trouble!" he said out loud. "Can't let her get to me!" he thought.

Tiffany was wearing a cottony spring dress, one with a floral print about the midriff, pure white from the waist down and around the breasts, with white spaghetti straps at the shoulders. The top of the dress was the clingy, form-fitting kind. It accented her thin midriff and budding breasts. It appeared that she wore no bra underneath.

He noticed as she approached that the sunlight filtered through the cottony white bottom of her dress, so that her bare legs were visible in shadow through the material. He wondered if she was wearing any panties underneath. What he wouldn't give to find out. "Crap -- stop that, you pervert!" he scolded himself.

As she stepped on the porch, Dave couldn't contain himself. "You look -- wonderful!" he said.

Tiffany's radiant smile appeared once again. To his astonishment, she leaned toward him and gave him a hug.

Not knowing how to deal with the "no physical contact between teacher and student" dictum, he declined to return the hug, but didn't shrug out of her grasp either. After a brief embrace, she stepped back and said, "Thank you, Mr. B."

"For what?"

"For saying that I look 'wonderful' -- for treating me like a grown-up," she replied simply.

"Well, there's no denying you're all grown up -- at least, mostly..."

"That's what I came to talk to you about," she said, "I came to apologize for my behavior. I got to thinking about what you said. Treating you like shit all year wasn't very adult of me. And begging you to spank me was... let's just say -- premature."

"Don't you mean 'immature'?"

"I meant exactly what I said, Mr. B. Remember, I'm not the one who accidently mixes up what I mean to say," she teased.

"Touché," Dave replied, still not quite understanding this confusing young lady.

"And, as to WHY I did what I did," Tiffany began, "did you ever think I might be trying to get your ATTENTION?"

"Well, um... quite honestly, I guess not," Dave answered.

"While we're being honest, can I be totally transparent with you?" she asked.

Dave immediately thought of the enticing shadow of her long legs under that filmy white dress when she used the word "transparent." "Um, sure," he replied.

"Mr. B., I -- I've had a MAJOR crush on you for the past three years," she admitted, "ever since you arrived at our school. People talk, especially in school -- and I heard a LOT about you. Then, when I took your chemistry class, I found out it was all true! You were this handsome, kind, shy, intelligent, somewhat nerdy guy -- all characteristics that I find incredibly attractive. And you happened to be -- a teacher."

Dave was floored. "Uh huh..." was all he could manage to say.

"I've always found the boys in high school to be just that -- BOYS. That's why I wear putrid glasses, no makeup and baggy clothes to school. Those boys ARE the perverts that you were talking about that day when you told me to wear panties under my skirt."

Dave's face flushed at the recollection.

"But you -- you're a MAN," she continued, "Not just looking to get into a girl's panties -- there's more to you than your dick. You think with your MIND."

"If you only knew what's been controlling my thoughts about YOU lately," Dave thought to himself. Outwardly, he protested, "You sure don't seem too impressed with my mind in class."

"That's because I'm 'yanking your chain,' as you like to say -- messing with you to get your attention. Like Shakespeare said, 'Methinks the lady doth protest too much.' That's me! But you seem fixated on the fact that I'm your STUDENT -- not a young WOMAN who shares a hell of a lot in common with you."

Dave was deluged with a flood of conflicting emotions. She was right -- he DID put a "student" label on her and cast her neatly into that role. But, dammit, wasn't that what he was SUPPOSED to do?

"Let's say you're right," Dave replied hesitantly, "let's say I've slotted you in the wrong box. And just suppose -- for argument's sake -- that I find you incredibly attractive, too. Suppose that everything about you -- your intellectual curiosity, your drive to excel, your caustic sense of humor, your athleticism, your stunning good looks under that dorky façade -- is a mystery I want to unravel. Keep in mind that I'm only speaking hypothetically..."

Tiffany's silly grin betrayed her knowledge that he couldn't have spoken so vividly if he were speaking "hypothetically."

A bee circled and landed on the rim of Dave's glass, and he swatted it away.

"And suppose, dearest Tiffany, that I desperately want to have a relationship with you. And that I lay awake at night thinking about you."

"Really?" she interrupted.

He paused. "Really," he confessed.

"I thought I was the only one dorky enough to do that," she smiled. She didn't tell him that she masturbated to thoughts of him, nor did he tell her that he had the worst time trying not to do the same to thoughts of her.

He returned her smile. "That doesn't change the fact that you're my student. I'd get fired, maybe sued, maybe even ARRESTED if I got involved with you."

"Mr. B., have you ever heard of Shakespeare's 'The Taming of the Shrew'?"

"Of course," replied Dave.

"Well, do you actually KNOW the story?"

"Look, Tiffany, my major in college was chemistry. I didn't have too many Shakespeare courses," admitted Dave.

"Well, let me just say that I see you in the role of Lucentio. He's a private teacher for Bianca, but in fact he has the HOTS for Bianca. And she has the hots for him, and eventually they get married. If it's good enough for Shakespeare, it's good enough for me."

"I'll still get arrested," Dave lamented, "and I have my professional ethics. I can't change who I am."

"We do have a problem," she stated matter-of-factly, "but I have a simple solution. And it won't involve changing you -- I like you just the way you are."

"And what might that simple solution be?" he inquired.

"Easy. Graduation! I'm already eighteen, and in three weeks I'll no longer be your student!"

Dave looked into Tiffany's eyes, mesmerized. "You mean -- in three weeks, you want to start a courtship?" he asked.

"That sounds rather old-fashioned," she laughed, "let's just say, come graduation, we get started in earnest."

Dave's heart was beating at what felt like twice the normal rate. He reached across the table and put his hand on Tiffany's. "I like the sound of that," he said simply.

"You'll like more than just the sound," she promised, "I'll engage all five of your senses." With that, she leaned across the small table and kissed him fully on the lips.

It was all he could do not to pounce on her right then and there. As their tongues entwined and both became disoriented as to time and space, their cans of soda tumbled over on the table and began dripping onto the porch.

"We'd better watch out for what the neighbors will think," Dave muttered. "I'll go get something to clean this up."

"I'd better get home," she answered breathlessly, "my folks will be expecting me for dinner."

Dave watched as she skipped away down the sidewalk, sunlight once again casting shadows through the lower part of her dress.

Graduation day finally arrived. It had seemed like an eternity, both to Dave and to Tiffany. In the interim, they hadn't waited completely to "get started" on the "courtship," at least not on an emotional level. The physical level would have to wait.

They stole moments of sharing both deep thoughts and casual banter, getting to know one another more deeply -- all the while being careful not to seem like anything more than teacher and student to the naked eye.

Finally, it was time for the graduation ceremony. After the introductions and preliminaries, the audience stood and clapped while the graduating students filed in from the rear of the auditorium. Mr. Barry watched quietly as he stood in the front row below the podium.

He scanned the faces of the kids whose lives had crossed his over the past three years. It was a bittersweet feeling -- he was proud of their accomplishments, of the next steps they were taking toward their life's goals, but he would miss them, each and every one.

There was one of whom he was most proud. His eyes fixed on the girl at the head of the line, blonde hair cascading behind her as she walked, blue eyes sparkling. She looked like an angel, a heavenly vision. She cast a smiling glance in his direction as she made her way to the stage.

He sat down, mesmerized, as she took her place behind the podium to give the valedictory speech. The clapping stopped and the audience hushed to give Tiffany the opportunity to speak.

"Family and friends, fellow students, school staff -- and most of all, teachers," she began. She looked directly down at Dave as she said that last word, 'teachers.' "We are gathered here to celebrate. We celebrate not just an accomplishment, but one of life's passages."

"In a way, some of us are passing from childhood to adulthood. On this very night, we will become fully adult," she declared, grinning like the Cheshire cat and staring straight at Dave. He gulped and tugged at his collar, his cock once again stirring in his pants.

He listened and daydreamed as she continued her speech. She kept it short and sweet and finished up in less than ten minutes.

Her final words resonated in Dave's mind and heart: "And, in conclusion," she said, "a wise man once said to me that 'one must make some sacrifices to excel.' Those words apply not only to academics, but to all of life's endeavors. And they apply perhaps most of all to the most important endeavor -- human relationships. It takes more than 'chemistry' to succeed in a relationship -- though perhaps Chemistry is a great starting place!"

Dave couldn't help but smile. He knew that the double entendre in those words was meant for his ears only. As she watched his reaction, she knew that he knew. And she dared to blow him an air kiss, though the audience surely thought if was for the crowd in general.

After the ceremony, families gathered for pictures with the graduates. As Dave ambled by the Criswell family, Mrs. Criswell called him over. "Will you do us the honor, Mr. Barry?' she asked.

"Sure," replied Dave, "just tell me how your camera works, and I'll be glad to take a family photo."

"Oh, that's not what I meant, 'Mr. B.'," responded Mrs. Criswell, "I want to take your picture with Tiffany. After all, we need to mark this occasion with a record of the second most important man in our daughter's life."




Teacher's Pest Ch. 01



"So I still rate as number one?" quipped Tiffany's dad.

"Not for long," thought Tiffany, not daring to speak it aloud.

The sunlight filtering through the window was just turning to dusk when Dave's doorbell rang. His pulse quickened as he walked to the door. Opening it, he was pleased -- one might even say excited, in more ways than one -- to see Tiffany's smiling face.

"Come in," he said tentatively, "make yourself at home."

"Home," she repeated slowly, "that's exactly what it feels like -- like I'm coming home."

Dave had never realized what a sentimental sap he was, not until Tiffany pushed her way into his life. He found himself getting misty-eyed at Tiffany's "coming home" statement. He wrapped her in a brief embrace.

"Tiff," he said, and she smiled approvingly at his shortened use of her name, "I have to tell you, I'm really nervous about this 'passage' into a new realm."

"You're having doubts?" she asked.

"Not about you -- not about us," he assured, "I just don't want you to think I'm like those teenage boys -- a pervert who cares about nothing but getting into your panties."

"Oh, not to worry" she replied, "there's no danger that you're trying to get into my panties. I'm not wearing any!"

Dave stifled a gasp, but he couldn't stifle the swelling in his boxers. He suddenly realized that the shirt collar and cuffs as well as the hem of the skirt that Tiffany had been wearing under her cap and gown during the ceremony were now noticeably absent.

Dave already had an idea from her earlier submission to a bare-assed spanking that Tiffany may have some exhibitionist tendencies. As she began to tug at the zipper on the front of her graduation gown, he realized he was about to get a full frontal exhibition.

"J-just a minute, Tiff," he stammered, "do your parents know you're here?"

"My mom does," she replied, "I'm not sure Dad would buy in, but Mom knows I've been crushing on you for three years. She found my diary in the middle of this school year. She's not into invasion of privacy, but she was worried about me -- noticed my strange behavior, and thought I might be on drugs."

"And she -- approves?"

"'Love is preferable to other drugs,' she said to me," Tiffany explained. "And why do you think she pushed Principal Marklein to send you as my sponsor and chaperone to Washington, DC?"

"But why wasn't she angry about it being your teacher, someone who could misuse his authority to get you to do things you didn't want to do?"

"If that was how it was, sure, she'd be angry. But she realized from my diary and our talk afterward that you weren't the instigator, but that you were a worthy recipient of my affection."

"And she still felt that way after I spanked you?"

"Well, she didn't exactly know about that. I didn't want to ruin everything by telling on you. Besides, I pushed you into it, and I -- kind of liked it. It really turned me on. I don't remember ever being wetter than right after you spanked my naked ass."

"Um, Tiff," Dave explained, somewhat embarrassed, "I didn't mean that to be a sexual act. I've never been into humiliation of those I care about."

"Oh, but I didn't take it that way -- just the opposite. It showed me that you DID care, that you weren't ambivalent in your feelings toward me. And besides, it didn't REALLY hurt."

"I would never intentionally hurt you, physically or otherwise -- especially, not now."

"Now what?" she asked.

"Now that we're..."

"We're what? I want to hear you say it," she laughed.

"We're -- involved," came his reply.

"EXACTLY. That's what made me cry the day you told me that a grown woman wouldn't beg someone she's not involved with to spank her bare ass. In MY mind, I'd been 'involved' with you for three years. You just didn't realize it yet."

"I'm sorry I made you cry," he replied sincerely.

"And don't do it again!" she teased, "And don't make me beg this time. I want you to start tonight by spanking my bare ass. Now that we're -- involved. Like I told you, my request wasn't IMMATURE -- it was PREMATURE."

Her hand returned to the zipper at the top of her gown. She was ready to offer up her bare ass for him to spank.

"Let me help you with that," whispered Dave, his voice catching in his throat.

"I'd be honored, Mr. B." she replied.

"Let's drop the 'Mr. B.' thing -- I'm no longer your teacher."

"Oh, but I beg to differ. I intend for you to teach me -- everything."

Dave felt a tingle of elation. "Okay, you've got a deal," he replied. "But please -- call me Dave."

"But calling you 'Mr. B.' feels so -- naughty. I like feeling naughty. How about I still call you 'Mr. B.' just for tonight?"

"Um... okay -- MISS CRISWELL," he chortled.

"Damned straight," she laughed, "now get this crazy gown off of me."

"Come here, you," he instructed, taking her in his arms and squeezing her in a hug. Their lips met, tongues exploring each other's mouths in unleashed passion. One of Dave's hands began to rub Tiffany's buttocks through the satiny gown; the other cupped her (facial) cheek in tender adoration.

"Tiffany, Tiffany," he breathed, stepping back, "I've wanted this for what seems like SO long! But I'm determined not to rush it. I want to make it an experience that you -- that both of us -- will remember forever."

With that, he began to nibble down her cheek and throat, finding his way down her neck. When his lips reached the top of her gown, he took the zipper of the garment between his teeth. Descending downward while holding both of her hands for balance, Dave reached the middle of her chest before looking back up into her eyes.

Tiffany was gazing lovingly back at him. She let go of one hand and used it to run her fingers through his hair, to pull him against her chest. The gown gaped slightly open, enough for Dave to see a partial profile of her left breast. Distracted but determined to savor the journey, Dave continued his downward momentum.

Arriving just above her waist, Dave stopped momentarily and nuzzled Tiffany's belly button. His head moved from side to side, his nose tickling her navel. He felt her tense up.

"Nervous?" he asked, letting the zipper momentarily slip from his teeth.

"More like ticklish," she replied, "but it feels good -- REALLY good."

Dave kissed her navel, then licked it. "Oh, Mr. B.!" she exclaimed, pulling his head into her stomach with her free hand. As she released her grasp, Dave took the zipper once again in his teeth.

He pulled the zipper another foot downward. For the first time, her pubic mound was exposed to him, and his face was only inches away. He wanted badly to go directly to it and make her squeal with delight, but he was determined to build slowly to a crescendo. There would be other opportunities for frantic couplings, but there would be no other FIRST time.

Dave looked upward again, trying to read Tiffany's eyes. She nodded to him to continue his exploration. He smiled at her, then quipped, "If I were a piece of heavy machinery, would it be an airplane?"

Confused, eyebrows raised, she asked, "What?"

"I'm just wondering, since I see you've reserved a 'landing strip' for me!" he answered goofily.

"Goofball!" she laughed.

"And, say, I guess you really DON'T color your hair. I can now honestly say that you're a 'real blonde' -- and I've seen the evidence to prove it!"

"MORON!" she chided teasingly.

Re-acquiring the zipper between his teeth, Dave found his way all the way to the bottom of the garment. Letting go of the zipper, he stood up. Tiffany smiled, then pushed the gown off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Dave's sharp intake of breath told her everything she needed to know.

"I've wanted you to look at me like that for SO long," she said happily. "That's another reason I cried when you told me to put my skirt back down, when I tried to make you spank me a third time. I wanted you to WANT to see my body."

"I can honestly say that my conscience wouldn't let me enjoy it then," he returned.

"I know, and I understand. But now?"

"Unlike that occasion, I'm ready to enjoy every moment of gazing at your beautiful body. I'll even turn you over my knee -- if that's what you still want."

"It's a start," she replied, "it'll get the juices flowing, so to speak."

Dave pulled a sturdy armless dining chair to a clear spot in the middle of the living room. As the dusk was now turning to darkness, he closed the window shades and turned on additional lights. He sat in the chair and motioned Tiffany to stand in front of him.

Taking the occasion to admire her creamy, still-maturing breasts up close, Dave was tempted to take one of her rosy, erect nipples in his eager mouth to suckle it. "Patience," he told himself silently.

He hugged her naked body once again, and suddenly felt extremely overdressed. He realized he was still completely clothed. "Patience," he thought once again. He pointed to her ass and then to his lap

Tiffany followed his cue and lay across his legs, her bare white ass centered between his knees. "Are you sure you want this?" he asked.

"I trust you not to hurt me. And besides, it excites me -- makes me feel like a naughty girl," she confessed.

"Okay, naughty girl -- here goes," said Dave. He raised his right hand and administered a half-hearted slap across her bare rump.

"Come on, Mr. B., you can do better than that!" she chided. "I'll tell you what -- if you'll indulge me my little fetish, I'll see what I can do to indulge you yours. Any confessions as to what that might be?"

"Tiffany, I'm a little embarrassed..."

"You're not going to keep it from me, big boy. I've told you that your spankings make me wet. I want to know what gets you hard, just fantasizing about it. Tell me your dirty little secret!"

"Um, well..."

"Yes?"

"You know how I told you that you're a mystery to me?"

"Uh-huh," she grinned, "I liked that."

"Well, one of the facets I mentioned was your athleticism. I know you're in competitive gymnastics. One of the things that's always turned me on about female gymnasts is when they do the splits. I've always -- I've always wondered what it would be like to see one do the splits..."

"Go on," she encouraged.

"Okay, Tiffany, I'll say it. I want to see you do the splits naked."

"And then you'll spank me?"

"I'll spank you first -- you're already in position. But thinking about seeing you do the splits naked will give me an incentive -- it'll build up my enthusiasm."

"You drive a hard bargain," she said, "but I accept your terms."

Dave couldn't believe his ears. "The bargain's not the only thing your driving to be hard," he said. His prick was standing at attention inside his boxer shorts. "Are you sure you don't think I'm a pervert?."

"Like I said, I like feeling naughty. Doing the splits naked sounds naughty to me."

"Ready for the rest of your spanking, naughty girl?"

"Ready and willing!"

Dave whacked Tiffany's ass enthusiastically a couple of more times. He saw the imprint of his hand starting to rise to the surface of her skin. "Had enough?" he asked.

"One more," she pleaded, "you're making me so horny and wet!"

He smacked her beautiful derriere one more time. "There," he said, "done." He leaned down and kissed the red marks. "Are you okay?"

"Mmmmm," she replied, "more than good." She grasped the hand that he had used to spank her, and grazed his outstretched fingers across her feminine slit. His fingers came back soaked and shiny.

"We'll return to that location and give it the attention it deserves shortly," he said, "but first, I want to go get something for you. Stay here and I'll be right back." He stood her up, admiring her slim athletic figure, her blossoming breasts, her blonde landing strip above the juncture of her long legs, her golden locks scattered across her narrow shoulders.

He dashed off to the hall bathroom and grabbed a container, then returned to the living room where she stood beside the armless dining chair. He sat back down and lay her once again across his lap.

"I hope you didn't get KY jelly," she asserted, "'cause I'm as wet as I'll ever need to be."

"Not to worry, my little darling," he cooed, "it's pretty much the opposite of KY jelly." He held up the container, revealing its contents: baby powder.

She recoiled in mock horror. "You're not going to put that on me, are you? You'll make me dry as a bone!"

"I've got a bone for you," he joked, "but no, I'm not going to put it on your pussy. It's to take the sting off your ass cheeks -- the sting from your spanking."

"Oh, okay, Mr. Macho, I get it. You think your little naughty girl can't handle a bare-assed spanking from her big bad teacher," she teased, "Sure -- go ahead."

She had to admit later that it was a WONDERFUL idea that had entered Dave's brain. The way he sprinkled it on -- it was so cool to the touch. Then the way he massaged it in, making little circles on each buttock, then gently spreading the circles outward -- spanking or no spanking, this intimate act of compassion felt GOOD, not only physically but emotionally, for the tender caring that it demonstrated.

When he was done with her butt massage, Dave leaned over and kissed each cheek once more. "Ready to indulge MY little fetish?" he asked.

Tiffany stood up. Dave couldn't keep his eyes off her luscious naked body. "Do you have a balance beam in here?" she queried half-jokingly, but then added, "Seriously, you'll have a better view if I'm elevated."

"No balance beam, but how about the back of the couch? It's sturdy and level, and it's out here away from anything that might pose a danger if you should fall."

"I'm not going to fall -- I've made the sacrifices to ensure that I excel at gymnastics, too," she assured him.

"Why am I not surprised?" he laughed.

To Dave's genuine surprise, Tiffany darted toward the couch, launched herself in the air, turned a flip and planted her feet squarely on the back of the couch. 

"Good thing it's a cathedral ceiling in here," he uttered, mouth agape. Then he watched as she slowly, surely, gingerly let her legs spread apart and let her body begin to drop.

"Come closer," she encouraged, "indulge your fetish. Watch my pussy from up close while I finish the splits."

Dave was mildly taken aback, but realized quickly that she seriously wanted to please him. He stepped forward and knelt down to where Tiffany's crotch was at eye level.

She held her arms out straight and dropped all the way down to the point where her spread legs were horizontal to the back of the couch. Her vaginal folds were pulled apart, exposing her love tunnel to Dave's gaze. He moved nearer, his face so close that he couldn't help but inhale her fragrance. He began to lazily lick her juices with his tongue.

"Mr. B., that feels really good. But I won't be able to keep my balance if you do that. How about let's find a place that's more -- comfortable. And while we're at it, why don't we get YOU more comfortable." She tugged at the bottom of his shirt.

"Tiff, you are AWESOME," he smiled as he began to undress, "You have just knocked one of the items off my bucket list."

"I have a feeling we'll be doing a lot of that for and with each other, both tonight and for a long time to come," she answered hopefully. Dave was pleased that her plans for the future included him.

When Dave was down to his boxer shorts, he motioned Tiffany to come closer. "Would you do the honors?" he asked.

"Gladly," she replied. She grasped the elastic band of his boxers on both sides of his hips, then gently eased them down. Her smile grew broader as his cock was exposed. His cock grew broader as he saw her smile at what she saw.

"So, Mr. Chemistry Teacher, what's the scientific reason for that gigantic expansion in the size of your penis?" she asked as his boxers fell all the way to the floor and he stepped out of them.

"Scientifically, it has to do with the change in blood flow to that part of the body. It's sort of the sexual cousin to Boyle's Law for gases, where the volume and pressure are inversely proportional -- yes, INVERSELY, not DIRECTLY. Except here, the number of molecules is increasing due to the blood flow. To keep my poor willy from bursting, its volume MUST expand."

"That sounds completely rational -- so that's all there is to it?"

"Well, rationality is not what causes the change in blood flow. It's something much more complicated -- and that something is YOU, my little vixen!" he declared truthfully.

Tiffany blushed. "Was it just my naked splits that made your dick grow?" she asked.

"Well, that truly erotic scene certainly made me want to 'free willy.' But no, it was the look on your face when you were looking at me. It does a man good to know when a woman wants him."

"A woman," she replied earnestly, "it does me good to hear you call me that. Not a GIRL -- a WOMAN."

"Speaking of being a woman, Tiff," Dave began.

"Yes?"

"Can I be blunt with you?"

"Permission to speak freely, sir," she granted playfully.

"Tiffany, you told me once that you'd never been fucked," Dave stated bluntly.

"True," she replied, "not just that I said it -- but that I haven't."

"Tiffany, I want you to know that I don't intend to simply fuck you. I want to make love to you -- to excite your mind as well as your body. I want to be your teacher in the most intimate of ways."

"Then teach me, Teacher!" she answered joyfully.

Dave smiled and picked Tiffany up, one hand under her knees, the other under her buttocks. She draped an arm around his neck. Tiffany was surprised when he stopped at the kitchen rather than the bedroom.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Besides my dick?" he toyed with her.

"You know what I mean, silly -- what's going on?"

"I'm just picking up a few things to heighten the experience for you -- for us." 

He set her down momentarily and took a flimsy plastic grocery bag from a drawer. He gathered a few items and dumped them in the bag. He then draped the bag over his wrist and picked Tiffany up once again, heading toward his bedroom. 

As he set her gently on the bed, she couldn't hide her curiosity. "What's in the bag?" she queried.

He pulled out a jar of honey, a spoon, a squeeze bottle of strawberry jam, and a spray can of Reddi-wip.

Her eyes grew wide. "And I thought I was the naughty one," she quipped.

Dave knelt in front of her as she sat on the edge of the bed. "I won't ever do anything to hurt you, and if you're ever uncomfortable with something I'm doing, just tell me and I'll stop. Rule number one is that we can always talk about our feelings."

She started to chide him for making rules, to kid him for playing the role of the authoritarian teacher, but she decided she liked his first rule and would withhold her complaint.

"Okay," she agreed, "so far you're not making me uncomfortable."

"Good," he assured her, attempting to alleviate any anxiety she may feel. "Now, I want you to lie flat with these behind your head," he said, fluffing some pillows. "Since I'm right-handed, you take up this side of the bed and I'll join you from the other side."

Tiffany obeyed Dave's instructions, stretching her long legs nearly to the end of the bed, her tousled blonde mane splayed out on the pillows. Dave knelt on the bed beside her, holding the jar of honey in one hand and the spoon in the other.

"That's going to make a mess," she noted doubtfully.

"The sheets will wash, and we can always move to the guest bedroom afterward," he reassured her, though he placed them for the moment on the bedside table. He leaned down and gently kissed her cheek, then her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and finally her lips.

Her heart felt like it was about to burst, she was so full of love and desire for this man who had seemed to be constantly annoyed with her only weeks ago. Their tongues entwined in a primal dance, and Tiffany felt the warm sensation of Dave's hand on her breast. It felt so good, the way he kneaded and massaged, then teased the tip of her nipple to full erection.




Teacher's Pest Ch. 02



Author's Note: Thank you for all the wonderful feedback on the inaugural story in this series. If you haven't read Ch. 01, you may glean more of the 'inside story' in this one if you go back and read Ch. 01. However, if you don't have the time, this one can stand on its own. I think you'll enjoy it in either case. As always, feedback from readers -- whether favorable or not -- is always appreciated. Please vote and provide your comments! Regards, Average Bear

Chapter 02: The Trip to Washington

David Barry awoke with a start. Was that a dog licking his face? Surely not -- he didn't own a dog. Then he felt a hand groping his crotch through his pants.

He opened his eyes to see Tiffany's gorgeous blue eyes searching his face. Her tongue was swirling around his ear.

He looked around at unexpected surroundings -- the inside of a sleek, modern railway car. Slowly, his sleepy fog began to dissipate. 

"Um, Tiff," he said, wiping sleep-induced drool from the corner of his mouth, "isn't this sort of a public place to be doing that?"

"Haven't you ever seen 'Risky Business', silly? The scene from the train?" she asked.

Dave's erection began to stir. It was a double whammy -- Tiff's gentle manipulation of his awakening boner, and the salvo of sexual innuendo that she had just fired across his bow. He knew well the mid-1980's movie that launched Tom Cruise's career. It was before his time, but it was a classic.

He and Tiffany had just consummated their loving, no-longer-teacher-and-student relationship the prior Friday night, after Tiffany's high school graduation ceremony. Now, on Monday morning, Tiffany was implying that she wanted to have sex with him on the Amtrak train to Washington, DC. 

"Um, sweetheart," he answered, "THEY waited until there were no people on the train."

The two of them were traveling as candidate and sponsor to the annual National Chemistry Contest. Their first class car was emptier than the economy cars, but there were about half a dozen other people scattered throughout the compartment.

"Dave," she said, feeling wonderful about using his first name rather than 'Mr. B.', "this place may NEVER empty out. Let's take a chance. And besides, we have a blanket."

Dave looked down and found a pleasant revelation. Tiffany's groping of his cock through denim was concealed from public view! A navy blue synthetic wool blanket was spread across their laps. Though it was the first week of June, the railway provided blankets for travelers year-round. Most used it for sleep -- Tiffany had other designs in mind.

"You're not just a 'book smart' young lady," he smiled, "you're practical, too!"

Dave leaned his head against her shoulder, trying to shake off the grogginess. He looked outside at the scenery passing by. The tracks were running through farm country. He loved the scenes from the countryside -- green fields as far as the eye could see, dotted with white farm houses and old red, painted barns beside towering, dingy grayish white silos.

It was the time of year when the crops had recently burst through the soil. They seemed to reach for the sky with the elation of new life. Dave mused that he had a newfound sense of the same sort of elation. Tiffany was the sunshine that warmed his body and soul, causing him to spring forth -- in more ways than one.

"Still deciding?" she asked, bursting into his wandering thoughts.

"Tiff, I'm your man. Like we decided the other night, whatever we want to do together is okay -- the sky's the limit."

"NO limits," she corrected him with a smile, this time giving voice to her version of the rules.

"No limits," he agreed, "just no jail time. I have a feeling the school board would frown upon that. But I think we can manage to avoid prosecution."

The pressure of her hand on his groin immediately increased. Dave wasn't sure whether it was her hand or his cock that had moved -- probably a little of both.

Tiffany likewise felt the movement of Dave's prick under her palm. Her own sexual excitement was beginning to dampen her panties. But her sense of awe and wonder at this newfound freedom within a finally-established relationship also gave her excitement of a more spiritual sort.

Dave leaned toward Tiffany and kissed her gently on the crown of her head. The fresh scent of her shampoo filled his nostrils. He noticed the gentle movement of her golden locks as he released his breath. "Love is indeed a potent drug, sharpening each of the senses," he thought silently.

Continuing to brush light kisses on her head, Dave moved his hand under the blanket to Tiffany's knee. She released a sigh of pleasure at this gentle contact.

He began to slowly massage her knee through her pants leg. He then caressed her thigh, then slowly moved his hand down toward the crotch of her pants.

Tiffany instinctively moved her knees apart to give him better access. He proceeded to gently massage her nether region through her jeans. She began to arch toward his fingers. "Mmmmm," she whispered to him, "that feels SO good!"

Dave was pleased to please her. She was doing a good job of pleasing him with her own gentle, manual probing of the front of his trousers. 

"My little friend is dying to escape," he confessed.

Tiffany's hand, still under cover of the blanket, deftly unzipped his fly. She then unfastened the button at the top of his fly. He raised his butt off the seat to allow her to pull his pants and underwear down slightly down, just far enough to free his penis from its confines, but not far enough to show any visible difference below the hem of the blanket.

Their fellow passengers were none the wiser. Tiffany began stroking Dave's freed erection. She felt like purring. He felt like cumming. "Not too fast," he advised, "I don't want to mess up their blanket."

"So where else will would you like to make your deposit?" she asked with a glint in her lovely blue eyes, meanwhile licking her lips in provocation.

"Tiff -- you don't know what you're DOING to me!" he whispered loudly through clenched teeth.

Feeling his cock pulsing in her grip, she replied, "I think I have a pretty good idea. About the same as you're doing to ME!" His fingers continued to stoke her fire, though still muted by denim.

As if reading her mind, Dave reached up and gently unzipped the zipper of her jeans, then unbuttoned the fastener at the top. She raised up to allow him to ease her jeans off her hips. Both now were naked from just below the belly button to halfway down the thigh, covered by a light blanket on a very public train.

Dave wasted no time in travelling the path from knee to crotch this time. He reached his fingers straight toward her lower torso, grazing her landing strip before reaching her most sensitive spot. Tiffany knew what was coming (no pun intended), but couldn't suppress a pleased sigh as his index finger and thumb caressed her vaginal lips and gently squeezed her clitoral nub. As she became wet enough, he slipped first two fingers and then a third deep inside her slippery tunnel.

Anyone sitting close to them might have notice the mixed aroma of their mutual sexual excitement. Thankfully, nobody was within four rows of their seat. The sound of her soft moans didn't travel quite that far.

Tiffany's eyes fluttered shut as she enjoyed an unhurried finger fuck. Dave, however, was feeling a more urgent need for release. "Better slow it down, baby, or I'm gonna cum on the blanket, right here, right now," he whispered urgently.

"Where was it you wanted to make that deposit?" she responded gleefully.

"It'll be too obvious if you stick your head under the blanket. Better have you sit on my lap -- but not 'til YOU'RE ready."

"It's a long way to Washington," she cooed, "we can take care of you now and still have plenty of time for you to play some more with me."

Dave's heart was as soft as his dick was hard. Here he had wanted to take his time to please her, and she was instead intent on pleasing him.

Just then, Tiffany draped her jean-clad leg over his. He continued to probe with his fingers and she continued to stroke with her hand. He slid a fourth finger gently into her loosened feminine slit. The blanket continued to keep the operation covert.

Dave glanced around the car. An elderly lady near the front caught his gaze and smiled at him. "Does she know what's going on?" Dave thought. He breathed a sigh of relief as the woman looked down.

"All's clear," Dave whispered, in case Tiffany had followed his gaze.

Tiffany was unconcerned with anything but pleasing her man. She lifted her buttocks up off the seat to move toward him. She noticed that her rear end had stuck lightly to the fabric, and wondered whether it was from sweat produced by this pleasurable exercise, or from liquid of another sort.

Keeping the blanket in place and her leg draped over his, with her hand still gripping his erect penis, Tiffany positioned herself, facing away from him, over Dave's shaft. She moistened his glans with a sexy rub around her sopping wet slit. 

She turned her head to see Dave's pleased expression. "Incoming!" she whispered as she impaled herself on his pole.

The penetration was fast and sure. He was in to the hilt in one quick instant. Dave and Tiffany separately marveled at their warm, snug fit. "I could stay here forever," she coaxed unashamedly.

Instinctively, his hands went up to massage her breasts in affirmation. He was momentarily surprised that her tits were covered by her bra and sweatshirt. Then he remembered where they were. He immediately dropped his hands to his sides.

Tiffany grasped his hands and pulled them back up to her chest. "I don't CARE who sees!" she whispered to him. She started to gently rock on his cock.

Dave was wise enough not to directly contradict her. He offered an alternative instead. "I have a better idea," he said, "and it will be more discreet."

He moved his hands to the bottom of her sweatshirt, then raised them upward along her back, but INSIDE her sweatshirt. "Good idea," she immediately encouraged. 

He deftly released the clasp of her bra. "Even better!" she murmured.

To both tease and please, he didn't go immediately for her breasts, but kept his hands on her back for the moment. He began a gentle massage of her shoulders, kneading the taut muscles. Her gymnastics activities certainly kept her in shape, Dave noted mentally.

Their gentle coital rocking matched time with his massage of her back. He kissed her, almost primly, on the back of her head. He then massaged further down the sides of her back, where her feminine curves tapered inward between shoulders and hips.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, the angle of Dave's hands wrapped far enough around her torso to tickle her. A loud laugh escaped Tiffany's lips. Six pairs of eyes were suddenly fixed upon them.

Dave froze. No rocking, no massaging.

He lay his head on her shoulder, this time not out of tenderness but out of deception -- not to deceive Tiffany, but to deceive their fellow passengers. Nothing is going on here but a bit of innocent snuggling, his actions seemed to say.

Tiffany reacted differently to the sudden intrusion. Her pussy was already drenched from their progress thus far, but now she was absolutely ACHING with excitement and need as the other passengers watched them. She urged Dave onward with a wiggle of her ass, stirring his prick within her depths.

Dave was thankful that the other passengers seemed to lose interest quickly. Her laughter had stopped no sooner than it started, and perhaps his deception had lulled them into complacency. He obviously wasn't hurting her, so nobody seemed to think it was their business.

Tiffany had not stopped her wiggling, writhing movements. In fact, they had intensified. Now that the coast was clear, Dave reached one hand around her torso to gently pressure her clitoral hood between his thumb and forefinger. It was a gentle press, designed to create an appetite for more. 

He reached the other hand around the other side of her torso, inside her sweatshirt, to run a finger up and down the youthful but substantive cleavage between her breasts. Again, the objective was to make her hungry for more.

On both counts, Dave's intentions hit their mark. Tiffany's squeezed her legs together to increase the pressure on her clit, giving Dave a penile squeeze in the process. She likewise grasped Dave's elbow, planting his hand squarely on her left tit, the more sensitive of the two. 

"Lean forward," she commanded Dave quietly. He acquiesced without comment.

"I set out to please YOU," she whispered hoarsely, "but you've got me so stoked, I'm ready to cum. I want you to make your deposit -- NOW!"

Dave's gentle rocking quickly became as urgent as Tiffany's wiggling and writhing. Bystanders be damned, there was no holding back! 

He kissed her neck to express the tenderness his voice couldn't produce. The only sounds were the squishy friction between penis and vagina, and the slapping of hips against ass. Both Dave and Tiffany were so lost in their enjoyment of each other, neither noticed the same elderly lady staring at their gyrating blanket with a sly, appreciative grin.

They were building together toward a mutual crescendo. Dave's strumming of Tiffany's clit and massaging of her breast grew proportionally to the frenzy of their thrusts. Tiffany flashed him an "I love you" hand signal from American Sign Language. Dave knew the sign, formed by the pinky, thumb and index finger. "What a girl -- what a WOMAN!" he told himself.

Dave could contain his surging semen no longer. He felt the constriction, the pleasant throbbing, the rapid unfurling of imminent orgasm washing over him. "I'm cumming, Tiff!" he cried in hushed tones.

"Me, too!" she squealed, not nearly as hushed as her lover. And she was indeed cumming. Dave felt her constrictions urging him on to final release. His own climax spewed uncontrollably, shaking him to the foundation of his emotional and physical being. Not just a few spurts, but spurt after spurt after spurt. Had he been counting, he might have reached a dozen or more blasts of first his seminal fluid and then the dry heaves of his cock continuing to convulse.

As he felt her rocking spasms subside, Dave leaned his head briefly against her back. Finally catching his breath, he confessed to her, "Tiff, I can't ever remember cumming that long in my life! Our first time may have been the hardest, but this was the longest."

Tiffany was still in a hormone-induced haze. Her head fell back onto his shoulder, golden locks spilling past his ear. Her breasts still heaving, Dave knew that something special had happened for her as well.

True to his promise to continue to play, he began lazily cupping and fondling her breasts beneath her sweatshirt. As his cock softened and eventually spilled out of her cunt, Dave replaced the missing member with three fingers. No longer in need of release himself, Dave spent the better part of the next hour finding creative ways to covertly give Tiffany additional peaks of pleasure.

Before they pulled jeans into place, zipped zippers, and removed the visual shield of their blanket, Dave found himself with a second erection. Tiffany gladly took him into her over-stimulated love tunnel for a slow, gentle, loving fuck.

* * * * *

At they left the train and walked through Union Station in Washington, DC, Dave's gaze lingered on the back of Tiffany's jeans. He loved the way they hugged the slim curve of her tightly toned ass as she walked.

It dawned on Dave that these jeans were quite different from the baggy pants and sweats that Tiffany used to wear in school. The style was quite sleek and becoming, no longer masking the firmness of her youthful, feminine body.

Dave pondered the conundrum of Tiffany's complex behavior. On the one hand, she avoided being ogled by perverted high school boys, opting to wear frumpy clothes and thick glasses instead. On the other hand, she sometimes played the role of exhibitionist. She had offered up her bare ass for him to spank while she was his student. She had worn nothing under her graduation gown when she came to his house on Friday night. And she had initiated making love with him on a very public train this morning.

"Perhaps there's a common theme," he considered. As he mulled it over, it suddenly became obvious -- the common theme was HIM. Perhaps she felt safe when she was with him, safe enough to throw caution to the wind. Whatever the reason, he knew he admired this new-found trait in her.

They walked hand-in-hand to the curb, each pulling a suitcase behind them. Dave hailed a cab outside the building.

While riding in the cab from Union Station to their hotel, Tiffany made an admission that didn't surprise Dave in the least.

"Knowing that the people in the train might be watching -- and that we might get caught -- was incredibly HOT to me," she confessed.

"Yeah, I sort of gathered that," replied Dave, "our reaction to being watched was a study in contrasts. I was frozen and you were frenzied."

"I couldn't control it -- or maybe I didn't want to try. Did it bother you?" Her knitted brow displayed her genuine concern.

"It wasn't your actions that troubled me. It was my fears. I've always been overly concerned about what people think of me, of what I do."

"I don't give a rat's ass about what people think of me!" she laughed, "At least not what strangers on a train think of me. I care a lot about what YOU think of me. Am I twisted to enjoy the rush of possibly being discovered or watched?"

"Twisted? More like heroic! I wish I had the balls you have."

"Um, Dave -- that's not quite anatomically correct. I distinctly recall finding a fine pair of gonads on you, and I sincerely hope you've made no such discovery on me," she laughed.

"Goofus!" he chortled, "You know what I mean!"

"Ah, yes, my dear teacher," she answered, "if you'll recall, I've always spoken my mind, often to your chagrin. Perhaps this is the sexual equivalent of that."

"Maybe so. Tell me more," he requested sincerely.

She thought for a moment. Dave could see the light bulb click on in her brain. "The key is for it to come from a position of love, not from humiliation or perversion," she asserted matter-of-factly.

Dave could easily accept her rationale. It was consistent with the theme that he had pondered himself, except he liked her version even better -- it was rooted in love, rather than simply in a sense of safety.

* * * * *

"May I help you?" the smartly dressed girl behind the counter asked.

"Two to check in," Dave replied. Tiffany was at his side. She glanced around the hotel lobby, taking in the atmosphere and admiring the décor. This was to be their residence for the next week.

"Driver's license and credit card," requested the clerk succinctly.

Handing these articles to her, Dave mentioned, "You might have two reservations for us: David Barry and Tiffany Criswell. We'll need only one."

Dave waited for the raised eyebrow. He received no such response. "That'll be fine," she answered, "our cancellation policy doesn't charge the deposit until 6PM. You're a full hour ahead of that."

Dave had not been concerned about the deposit -- he hadn't even thought about that. He was worried about the appearance of teacher and student sharing a single hotel room. 

Tiffany could readily interpret his cogitations by the expression on his face. "Silly man," she said lovingly as they walked away from the desk, "there you go again, worrying about what people think. You shouldn't give a rat's ass. She doesn't even know -- and if she did, she wouldn't care. And if she DID care, what does that matter to US?"

Dave squeezed her hand in affirmation. "Such wisdom beyond her years," he thought, "now who's teaching whom?"




Teacher's Pest Ch. 02



They entered the crowded elevator, wedging their two suitcases between them. During the exceedingly slow ascent, Dave whispered in her ear, "Feels like a honeymoon."

"Have you been hiding something from me?" she asked in mock horror, "You mean, all this time, you never told me you're MARRIED?"

She was a split second faster than Dave. He was momentarily stunned, then cracked a smile as Tiffany erupted in laughter.

"Don't make me punish you, naughty girl," he whispered in her ear.

"I feel a spanking coming on," she whispered back.

Arriving at the third floor, Dave and Tiffany scurried toward their room. Both were pleased with the accommodations as they entered, but both had more important things on their minds. Not waiting to unpack, they tossed their suitcases aside and hugged in a passionate embrace.

Between kisses, as Tiffany was removing his shirt, Dave offered an idea. "Tiff," he said, kissing her again, "Let me do more than just spank your ass." He leaned back to watch her expression.

Tiffany's blue eyes shimmered. Dave was glad she no longer wore her dorky black-rimmed glasses from high school. Her brilliant smile gave him the answer he needed. "I know you'd never hurt me," she spoke aloud, nestling her blonde mane against his chest.

Tiffany finished undressing him, tossing his jeans on the floor. She saw his high level of stimulation immediately, judging by the angle of his stiff cock pointing toward the ceiling. She was still fully clothed.

"Spank me with my jeans still on, like the first time at school," she said imploringly.

"Deal," he answered, "but you're not keeping your clothes on for long."

He sat down in the hotel chair and Tiffany lay across his lap. "Can I make a confession to you?" she asked.

"Of course, silly."

"Until that day at school when I first pushed you over the edge, I had never been spanked in my life. My parents didn't believe in corporal punishment. They felt that there were better ways of modifying a child's behavior."

"Well," Dave answered uncomfortably, "I'll never again use it as punishment -- only for pleasure, and only when you want me to."

"Don't get me wrong, 'Mr. B.'," she said playfully, "I'm not judging you. I was just stating a fact. It was a first -- one of many I've had with you, with many more still to come. Including the one to come in just a few minutes..." 

She paused, allowing him to catch her meaning. She continued, "And because it was a first, I had no way to anticipate my reaction to being spanked. As you know, it turned out that I really LIKED it..."

"Yes," he interrupted, "and, for the record, if you DON'T like anything we do -- even what we do after your spanking -- then we'll just stop and won't do it again."

"Like I said, I know you wouldn't hurt me. I was more just thinking about how something that's supposed to hurt really turned me on -- like the spanking. I have a feeling that when you take my ass with your cock, even if it hurts, it'll make me really wet and horny."

"Holy crap!" Dave thought, "she's going to make me spurt right here and now!" Aloud, he said, "You told me once that you like my sense of adventure. I think I like yours better."

"First things first," she teased, "I'm getting hot just thinking about my spanking," 

"Ah, yes, my naughty girl. Have you been bad?"

"Oh, YES, Mr. B.! I've been a very, VERY bad girl!" she taunted in her best schoolgirl voice.

Dave placed a flat hand on her round bottom. As much as he wanted to simply caress and fondle her through her jeans, he knew she wanted a good whack or three or four across her buttocks. He gladly indulged, being careful not to truly hurt her.

"One more!" she begged after the fourth slap. Dave blistered her rump one more time, then began to massage her shoulders in penance. 

"Mmmmm," she murmured, "feels so good."

Dave wasn't sure whether she meant the massage or the spanking, but he decided not to ask. He was pretty sure by now that she enjoyed it all.

He turned her over to face him and leaned in for a kiss. She wrapped her arms behind his neck. "So good," she said again.

Dave began to undress her as they kissed. Tiffany raised her arms, allowing him to remove her sweatshirt and bra. She raised her hips to allow him to pull her jeans and panties off. 

One of Dave's arms supported her neck as she lay on his lap. He began to fondle her breasts with the other hand as they continued to kiss. 

He thought to himself how wondrous this was -- how just a month ago she was an irritating student in his Chemistry class, and now she was his lover -- his soul mate.

She was having wondrous thoughts as well -- how after three years of admiring and fantasizing about him from afar, he had finally come to recognize her for what she was: an intelligent, humor-filled, mysterious, loving young woman who happened to have been his pupil.

Still locked in their kiss, tongues dancing together in delight, Tiffany felt Dave's hand dip from her breast to her pubic mound. She spread her legs wide in anticipation.

Dave reluctantly dipped his head from their kiss to suckle her tits. He loved the sight of her nipples protruding in full erection, a physical symbol of her lust for him. He cherished the fact that she loved him, but it gave him nearly equal joy to know she lusted for him as well.

He moved his fingers to her feminine slit and began to tease her labia apart. They were moist from her spanking. He gently rubbed her clitoral nub with his index finger. It was as if it reached out for his finger in response.

Dave plunged his first two fingers into her well-lubricated vagina. He felt Tiffany's arms pull his head closer to her breasts as he continued to suckle them. While his first two fingers stoked her fire, Dave cautiously worked his ring finger backward from her feminine slit to her anal opening.

Rubbing it tentatively, he felt her instinctively raise her hips to increase the pressure between finger and anus. Dave suspected from the resistance of her rosebud that the moisture from her vaginal juices on his finger would not sufficiently lubricate her.

He raised his head from her breast and said, "I'd better go get something to help. Meanwhile, let's move to the bed." She stood up and strode to the bed while he went to his suitcase.

Returning with a large tube of KY Jelly, he was please to see a bright smile on Tiffany's face. "So where's the raw bacon?" she asked kiddingly, recalling from their first tryst together his humorous example of creative lubrication.

"I didn't want you drifting off to thoughts of 'This Little Piggy Went to Market'," he replied. "Even though I'm the creative sort, there are times when it pays to be a traditionalist."

"So how do we go about this?" she asked.

"Not sure..." he admitted.

"You mean -- you've never done it before?"

"Busted," he replied.

"So -- it's a first for YOU as well?"

"Um... exactly."

"So we're breaking our anal cherries together?" she asked excitedly.

"Um... I hadn't planned on you taking mine. You didn't bring a strap-on, did you?

Tiffany burst into laughter. "Of course not, silly! I didn't mean I was going to fuck you in the ass -- at least not today..." 

Dave gulped, not sure whether to take her seriously, or what to think of it if he did.

Tiffany interrupted his thoughts. "I only meant that neither of us has had anal sex before. So in that sense, I'm taking YOUR virginity tonight." She looked like the cat who drank the cream, completely pleased with herself."

Dave couldn't help but share in her glee. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. For sure!"

Tiffany threw her arms around him and kissed him hard on the mouth. "Let's DO it, Dave -- let's learn TOGETHER."

"And if you -- or we -- don't like it, we'll stop," he reassured her.

"I don't think that will be a problem," she replied simply.

"Okay -- well, to start with, I'm guessing that it will work best if you face away from me."

"Agreed. And it might be best if I get on all fours so my ass sticks up in the air -- for an easier target. Like this," she said, turning away from him and getting into a kneeling, forward-leaning position.

Dave leaned down and kissed each of her ass cheeks gently. She was so adventurous, so game for sharing new experiences together. He committed to himself right then and there that he wasn't going to harness her, but rather help her experience everything her heart desired. He would be a learner, not just a teacher.

"From everything I've heard, we'll need lots of lube," he said. He removed the lid from the tube and spread a generous helping on his fingers. He rubbed it around her back door, making sure that the entire region was well lubricated.

"Here goes," he said, sliding his middle finger up against her rose bud. He pushed gently inward while rotating his finger back and forth. Her anal opening relaxed slightly, giving him room to manipulate further.

"Feels good," she assured him, "keep going."

Dave began to gently swirl his finger, thereby increasing the circumference of her tight hole. He then probed further inward, managing to see his first knuckle disappear inside her rear end.

"Still good?" he asked.

"Mmmmm, good," she murmured. She pushed back against his finger. "Maybe you should use your other hand on my pussy," she advised.

Dave gladly complied, moving the fingers of his left hand to her vaginal slit. He teased her clit and then slid two fingers inside her love tunnel. He felt the immediate reaction of her anal channel loosening around his right middle finger.

With more room to work, Dave plunged his middle finger all the way into her ass. He leaned forward and kissed her lower back. "Still good?" he asked.

She nodded her head in quiet ecstasy. "Use more fingers," she moaned, "BOTH holes."

Dave's cock twitched with excitement. He silently hoped his dick wouldn't be too big to enter her ass. Given the tightness of her ass, it still seemed like a feat too great to overcome. But he'd do what he could until they decided to stop.

Tiffany's rocking rhythm beckoned him. He honored her request to use more fingers. The easy addition was to insert a third finger between her vaginal lips. She was sopping wet and stretched with excitement. He decided she could readily accommodate a fourth finger. He was right.

Her anus reacted again to his stimulation of her vagina. It was a good moment for Dave to remove his middle finger from her ass and gently re-insert his index and middle fingers together. Slowly, they worked their way past each knuckle until finally both fingers were fully embedded.

'Still doing okay?" he asked.

"Better than okay," she answered breathlessly, "put it in me. Fuck me in the ass."

"Hang on, sweetheart," he replied, "let me work in one more finger, then we'll try. I'm pretty sure my dick is bigger around than two fingers."

"Sounds like a science experiment in the making," she joked. "Maybe you should develop a new class lab, 'Mr. B'," she cajoled.

"I love the way you keep your sense of humor even when we're fucking," he admitted honestly. "But seriously, I'm just trying not to hurt you."

"Well, thinking scientifically, your cock is hard from blood flow, not bone. It probably has more flexibility than a third finger."

Wow! Both beauty and brains in immense proportions, Dave thought. He wasn't sure whether he said it out loud or not. He was having trouble concentrating, with both hands inside of Tiffany and her inviting him to insert his cock into her ass.

He removed his two fingers from her alimentary canal, still continuing to maul her vagina with all four fingers of his other hand. He dispensed some more KY Jelly from the tube, this time directly on the head of his swollen penis.

Using his right hand, he rubbed his cock head against her rose bud to better lubricate it. He then stuck one finger back in to test her readiness, sort of like a thermometer in a Thanksgiving turkey.

"Ready or not, here I cum!" he said, half-jokingly and half-serious. "Tiff, are you ready for me to try?"

"Please! Fuck my ass like your life depends on it. I want to take your anal virginity and give you mine, right here, right now!"

Dave needed no further coaxing. He removed his lone finger and pushed his cock head against her rose bud. As the glans of his penis disappeared inside her anus, he intensified the stimulation of her vagina with his other hand.

Demonstrating the scientific principle of cause and effect, her anal channel relaxed further, and his penis penetrated deeper. He paused to allow her ass to accommodate his girth.

"Keep going," she urged him, "fuck me and make me cum!"

Finding no serious resistance from her tight ass, Dave eased his dick all the way in to the hilt. She cooed her pleasure. He felt like he was about to shoot his wad. "Got to settle down," he thought silently.

He waited to begin thrusting until he could gain his composure. Seeing her beautiful white buttocks directly in front of him, he moved his free right hand to gently pat them, first one and then the other.

"Spank me while you fuck my ass and stroke my clit," Tiffany directed, half request and half demand.

Dave took his four fingers from her vagina and began to gently squeeze her nub between his left thumb and forefinger. He then raised his right hand to chest level and administered a slap against her right buttock. Immediately, he saw a red handprint and felt remorse.

"Again!" Tiffany commanded, easing Dave's conscience. He felt her vagina twitch where he was stroking it.

He raised his hand again and spanked the other cheek.

"Oh, BABY," she cried out, "now FUCK MY ASS!"

The spanking had given him just the momentary diversion he needed to collect himself and avoid premature ejaculation. He was now able to begin thrusting without cumming immediately.

Tiffany began rocking back and forth to increase the penetration of his thrusts into her ass. Their no-holds-barred act of anal intercourse had them both steaming toward a wildly thrilling orgasm. His strumming of her clit was increasing the speed of her spiral toward climax.

"Dave, I want you to spurt inside my ass!" she begged.

The tightness of her ass, grasping his cock and squeezing it, created a feeling he had never quite experienced before. It certainly didn't lend itself to holding out for long.

He thrust harder and faster, squeezing and rubbing her clit fiercely now. Tiffany, on the receiving end, felt a strange mix of naughtiness and romance, ecstasy and... she couldn't quite place her finger on it, but it was something familiar. "Oh well," she thought, "I'll worry about it later."

Dave's thrusts in her ass and fondling of her vulva were pushing her over the edge. Dave, sensing her impending release, reached a frantic pace with thrusts and strokes.

"Can you cum?" he asked urgently, praying for an affirmative response.

"Oh, YES, baby -- TOGETHER. Give me your virgin spurt into your lover's ass!" she cried out.

Dave's testicles sent his seeds rushing forth to spread their fertilization. There would be no eggs waiting to unite with them, but their recipient appreciated them nonetheless. Tiffany was filled with bliss as her ass was filled with Dave's jism.

Her own powerful release followed immediately on the heels of Dave's. The quivering between her legs reached places she'd never felt it before. It erupted not just in the front, but seemingly from the back as well. She felt like the entirety of the juncture of her legs was convulsing in primal rapture.

After a moment together in post-coital haze, she and Dave slumped to the bed, his cock still firmly implanted in her ass. They lay cuddling and moaning together for a few moments.

Then it hit her. "Omigod," she thought, "not NOW." That additional feeling that had flitted through her mind a few moments ago was quickly taking shape in another region of her body. It was something more familiar and basic.

"Dave, I think I need to take a shit," she said forthrightly.

She felt the bed begin to shake and his body begin to tremble beside her. A second later, the room was filled with peals of his laughter. She felt his cock pull gently out of her ass. "Go, baby, go!" he managed to say through his unfurling mirth.

She jumped up and rushed to the bathroom, flipping the fan on before she sat on the toilet. She felt embarrassed by her quick exit and the sounds emanating from her disgorging bowels.

"Was it good for you, honey?" she heard Dave call from the bed.

She didn't answer for a moment, still feeling humiliated. The sound of his voice from the doorway to the bathroom startled her. "Are you okay?" he asked, a tone of tender care in his voice.

"Um, yeah, just a little freaked out that I nearly shit on your dick," she confessed.

"Hey, you," he replied, stepping into the bathroom and grazing a hand against her cheek, "we're learning together. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Shit is part of life. And if it happens to be a side effect of one of the most pleasant experiences I've ever had, then so be it."

Tiffany felt tears welling up within her. He loved her for who she was, shit notwithstanding. "Oh, Dave," she said hoarsely, "I love you SO much."

He leaned over the toilet and kissed her on the head. "Was it good for you, too?" he asked.

"Better than good -- it was GREAT! We'll see if I'm sore tomorrow, but I intend for us to try that again soon. And in the meantime, we can find plenty of more traditional ways to have fun."

"I'm glad," Dave replied earnestly. He watched her eyes, then leaned down and rubbed his nose against hers.

"Now let me finish getting cleaned up -- scram. You can come and join me in the shower when you hear the water running."

Dave smiled an impish grin and turned to leave. Stopping in the doorway, he turned back toward her and said, "After that, I'd like to take my lady to dinner."

"It's a date, mister," she replied happily.

* * * * *

TUNE IN NEXT WEEK for "Teacher's Pest, Ch. 03: Flashing DC"!



Teacher's Pest Ch. 03



Author's Note: Thank you for all the wonderful feedback on the first two chapters in this series. If you haven't read them, you will certainly appreciate this one more if you go back and read them. However, if you don't have the time, this one should stand on its own. As always, feedback from readers -- whether favorable or not -- is highly valued. Please vote and provide your comments! Regards, Average Bear

Chapter 03: Flashing DC

The hotel restaurant was the perfect venue for Dave and Tiffany to end their first day in Washington. The waiter had seated them and poured glasses of ice water. Dave squinted at the menu.

"Figured out what you want?" Tiffany asked.

"Well, I'm a meat and potatoes sort of guy," he replied.

Tiffany nearly choked on her water. "You could have fooled me," she laughed, "I seem to recall you being a whipped cream and raw bacon sort of guy..."

Dave's thoughts drifted back to their first night of lovemaking, just three nights ago, when he had somehow been inspired to raid the refrigerator to heighten her sensual pleasure. It seemed much longer ago than that. His world had changed dramatically since then -- for the better.

"Okay, so I have a predilection for using foodstuffs in lovemaking," he admitted, "but when it comes to filling my gullet, I have much more traditional tastes."

"How about the shepherd's pie?" she asked, "it has both the beef and the spuds."

"That sounds great to me. What about you?"

"I'll have a burger and fries." Dave wrinkled his nose. "I know," said Tiffany, "but I can't help it -- I'm still a teenager in SOME ways."

"Speaking of still being a teenager, we need to talk about the reason we're here. We should map out a study strategy for the contest."

"Ah, yes, the National Chemistry Contest -- I had NEARLY forgotten," she joked.

Just then, the waiter returned to take their orders. He had noticed them place the menus at their sides. When he was gone with their order, Tiffany addressed Dave's suggestion.

"Don't sweat it," she replied, placing her hand on his, "I had a pretty damned good chemistry teacher in high school." 

Dave nearly blushed -- HE had been her high school chemistry teacher. "Tiff, I'm a believer in giving it your all. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but you're no slacker when it comes to academics..."

"You're right, of course. You don't get to be valedictorian without being competitive. It's just that... I don't necessarily want to win this thing. Don't get me wrong -- I'll do my best. But I almost hope I don't win."

"Why's that?" he queried, more than a little surprised.

"I don't want to have to spend the bulk of our time here together studying. We need to see the sights and learn a little history -- and MAKE some of our OWN history, too. And maybe work on a little biology and some anatomy..."

"Get your mind out of the gutter and back on CHEMISTRY, young lady," he teased.

"Oh, the chemistry's pretty good -- you might even say 'sizzling'!" she quipped.

"But, seriously, Tiff," Dave redirected, "don't you think we should crack some books together? I even brought a summary of my course syllabus that we can use as a study guide."

"Okay, we can spend a LITTLE time on it. But I seriously think it's best if I don't win. I want our focus to be on US, not on ME. Like you said in the elevator, it's almost like we're on a honeymoon. And besides, someone else could use the scholarship money more than me."

That much was certainly true. Tiffany's parents, currently traveling to Australia, were quite well off. She had the means go to any university, both academically and financially.

The waiter returned with their food. As they ate, they worked out an itinerary for visiting monuments and museums. Dave would bring his study guide for times when they had to wait in lines. Washington was famous for long lines at tourist attractions.

After they had finished dessert, Dave asked, "Are you up for a swim in the hotel pool?"

Tiffany thought about it briefly, then smiled a sly grin. "You're not supposed to SWIM on a full stomach -- you need to let it settle for an hour. Maybe it's safer to stay in the HOT TUB."

"I'm not too sure about the scientific accuracy of that old wives' tale about letting your food settle," Dave replied.

"Still, the HOT TUB sounds HOT to me," she emphasized.

Dave was beginning feel a resurgence of energy. He wasn't sure whether it was from the meal or her suggestive innuendo. "Lead the way," Dave encouraged as they headed toward their room to change.

* * * * *

As they entered the pool area, Dave had a sneaking suspicion that Tiffany had something naughty in mind. She had insisted on changing to her swimsuit in the bathroom, telling him to change in the bedroom. She kept covered with a very large white towel as they walked from their room to the indoor pool, two floors below and at the opposite end of the building.

The hot tub was beside the deep end of the pool, away from the area where small children might play. At the moment, there were no other people in the pool or hot tub.

After Dave dropped his belongings and towels in a pool chair, he walked over to turn on the jets. He splashed into the tub and then sat on the edge, waiting for Tiffany to join him.

She dropped her belongings in a chair beside his. She turned toward him and slowly unwrapped the towel from around her body. As she dropped it in her chair, she strode toward him.

When she drew near, Dave noticed that her bikini swimsuit top and bottom weren't a swimsuit at all. They were red and shiny -- and easily transparent. He could see the outline of her landing strip behind the panties. Her breasts seemed ready to burst out of the top, her nipples forming an erotic backdrop to the red transparent fiber.

As she approached him, Tiffany was pleased to see Dave's jaw drop. She also noticed the obvious erection bulging through his wet swim trunks.

"You've got me wondering about your food fixation," Tiffany snickered. "Is that a cucumber in your swimsuit, or are you just happy to see me?"

"Oh, brother," Dave muttered, shaking his head, "talk about a LAME joke! And yes, I'm happy to see you. We'll save the cucumber for another time and another place..."

"Ooh, I LIKE the sound of THAT," she answered.

"M-hmm," said Dave, "now, tell me, what's that swimsuit made of?"

"Candy."

"I like to eat candy," he admitted, "but don't you think it's a bit risky to try it in a public place like THIS?"

"Just think what a RUSH it will be!" she cajoled.

Dave knew he shouldn't give a rat's ass -- in Tiffany's words -- what other people thought. And honestly, right now he actually didn't care. He just didn't want to get them kicked out of the hotel.

"If you get in the water, that thing's going to disintegrate," he cautioned.

"That's the idea, silly," she chided him, "Eat want you want -- whether swimsuit or what's behind it -- and then I'll get the sticky off in the water."

Though sensing a need for caution, Dave couldn't withhold his consent from an offer like the one Tiffany proposed. However, he told himself, let's do it QUICK, before anyone else arrives.

The word "quick" wasn't in Tiffany's vocabulary. And once they got started, that foolish notion dropped out of Dave's brain as well.

Tiffany sat on the edge of the hot tub beside him, wrapping her arms around him in a tender embrace. They kissed more fiercely, passions and body parts starting to rise.

"I could eat you up regardless of what you're wearing or not wearing, any time, any place," he told her sincerely.

They heard a squeaky hinge from across the pool. A disheveled janitor was standing in the doorway, broom in hand. "Pool closes at nine," he warned, "that's less than an hour from now."

Dave instinctively shielded Tiffany's body with his own body. The janitor was apparently looking to make sure that he didn't have to stay late to clean up. 

"No problem," Dave stated flatly. The man turned and left.

Tiffany giggled with a squeal of delight. "We nearly got caught!" she hooted. "Dave, that's so WILD! Oh, Dave, eat my panties, eat my pussy -- NOW!"

And as simply as that, Dave gave her just what she wanted. Her candy panties were a cherry flavor, which Dave thought to be appropriate since he had taken her cherry just a few days before.

As flimsy and revealing as the panties were, there was too much candy for him to comfortably eat all of it. He simply gnawed through the part in front of her navel, then chewed downward right to her crotch, making sure to generate some friction on her pubic mound in the process.

Freeing her mound and swallowing the candy that was in his mouth, Dave tossed the rest of the candy panties aside in the direction of the pool chairs. Tiffany lay back on the side of the hot tub, spreading her legs in invitation.

Dave dropped to his knees in the water and planted his face directly in front of the juncture of her thighs. "Eat me, baby," she pleaded.

Dave needed no further encouragement. He licked and slurped, suckled and teased, loving what he was doing to her and loving what this experience was doing to him. He stepped out of his trunks and tossed them on the side of the hot tub, not giving a rat's ass if somebody walked in on them.

The thrill of the taboo, the possibility of being caught, was bringing Tiffany to orgasm quickly. Her pelvis thrust urgently against Dave's mouth and fingers. "Ooh, baby, I'm going to cum! I'm going to CUM!!!" she shouted unabashedly.

Her voice echoed throughout the pool area. Dave didn't care. He finished bringing her to orgasm, loving the feel of her pussy clenching around his tongue, his lips, his penetrating fingers.

Tiffany was by no means satiated, even as the waves of passion subsided. She wanted more, particularly after she saw Dave's swimsuit on the edge of the tub. She watched him watch her, her leaning on the edge of the tub with legs spread wide, him rising up out of the water with cock in full salute.

She loved the sight of his erection, knowing that she was the one who had caused it. He had told her just recently that it was scientifically impossible for a man to fake an erection; that it wouldn't happen unless he was sexually excited. Who's to question a science teacher about that kind of happy science?

"Come here and put that thing where it belongs," she commanded, crooking a finger to beckon him, then pointing at her vagina to direct him. 

"Like I couldn't figure that out by myself," he thought amusedly to himself. He positioned himself directly in front of her. She took his prick in his hand to guide it to her sweet, swollen pussy lips, rubbing it erotically against her to moisten it with her juices. He leaned into her, parting her labia with his stiff rod, easing all the way in. After he had penetrated her, she lay back on the edge of the hot tub, her legs draped over the edge and warmed by the swirling water.

Dave's cock felt warmer from Tiffany's snug fit around him than his legs felt from the warm water swirling around them. His cock was nestled within Tiffany's tight tunnel, lavished by her feminine juices, squeezed lovingly by her throbbing vaginal walls. "So much warmer than a hot apple pie," Dave said aloud, wondering why the premise of the movie "American Pie" had flitted into his brain.

While his cock was stretching her pussy to just the right fit, Dave massaged Tiffany's tits through the candy bra, then ripped it down the middle and tossed it to the side. "MUCH better," he thought as he kneaded the flesh of her breasts with his hands, teasing her nipples to erection with his fingers and thumbs. 

He watched in fascination as he let go of her breasts and let them begin to bob back and forth, matching the rhythm of his thrusting penetration into her most private treasure.

He was by no means counting, but it took only a few dozen thrusts of his penis into her vaginal slit to bring Dave to the edge -- the edge of his climax, at the edge of the hot tub. Their genitals were joined just above the water, right at the concrete rim of the tub.

Tiffany was still stoked from Dave's earlier oral ministrations, so she needed very little urging to find her mutual release with Dave. He didn't need to speak this time, but merely placed her hands in his as they continued to rock, then squeezed her fingers to signal his impending orgasm. She squeezed back on his fingers and cock to let him know she was ready to join him in ecstasy.

"Unhhhhhh -- unhhhhh," he gasped as his balls joyfully erupted with a torrent of seminal fluid, shooting forth from his body into hers like the plume of a hot geyser.

Her climax wasn't nearly as volatile this time, having just had her pussy eaten to convulsions a few minutes before. She experience a gentle throbbing, a pleasant release. But her emotional reaction bridged the gap in her physical one. Her man had given her what she wanted, let her experience the freedom of being naughty, with the security of being loved.

Dave raised her torso to a sitting position, the two of them still connected at the crotch. He lifted her into the air, holding her close. She wrapped her legs around his butt, her arms around his shoulders. Dave liked the feel of her nipples pressed against his chest.

He slowly dropped into the water of the hot tub, still holding her. "Let's get the sticky off," he said.

"The 'sticky'?" she asked. "From the panties and bra, or from -- somewhere else?" she teased as his now-limp penis dropped from her slit.

"Goofball," he taunted, dunking her head under the water.

They splashed around for a few moments, then rose naked out of the hot tub together. Dave stepped back into his swimsuit, but Tiffany had nothing left of her candy swimsuit. She wrapped up in the large white towel she had brought.

Dave reached down to pick up the shredded remnants of candy panties and bra. He intended to throw them into the garbage.

"Leave them," Tiffany said, "let's let that janitor find them. Give him a thrill about what we were doing in here."

Dave beamed and took her by the hand. They walked out of the pool area and down the long corridor toward the elevator. They passed several hotel guests along the way and were scrunched in the elevator with a crowd. Tiffany felt the thrill of being naked under the towel in a very public place.

* * * * *

The next day was Tuesday. Tiffany woke up early, determined to keep in shape by going to the hotel's exercise room. 

Dave had wanted to sleep a little longer, but he was anxious to join her. He was in pretty good shape, but he hadn't been to the gym lately. Tiffany had been giving him pretty strenuous workouts of another kind, but he wanted to experience the less amorous camaraderie of exercising with her.

He should have known better. At the mini-gym, there were a few men and women on treadmills, stationary bikes and weight machines. Dave and Tiffany went to change to workout clothes in separate men's and women's changing rooms. "Meet you back in here," Dave noted as they parted.

As Dave waited for Tiffany to join him back in the mini-gym, he did various stretches to loosen his muscles. Little did he realize another of his "muscles" was about to stretch dramatically.

Tiffany arrived while Dave's head was down. She began stretching beside him. He looked up as he was about to move to another set of stretches. His eyes bulged when he saw Tiffany.

She was wearing a purple workout leotard, the kind that tapers to a tiny strip and normally goes over Lycra pants or under a pair of shorts. But Tiffany wasn't wearing Lycra pants -- OR a pair of shorts!

Her beautiful, creamy white, taut little ass cheeks were nearly completely uncovered. Were she not shaved to a landing strip in the front, Dave was sure there would have been pubic hair peeking out from beside the tiny wisp of cloth. Her gymnast's legs seemed a mile long with the tiny little strip of cloth riding so high up her ass and crotch.

She had caught the bulge of his eyes. "Like it?" she asked.

Had he been worried that she was trying to attract other men, he would have been mortified. But he knew from their prior discussion that she was, in essence, speaking her mind sexually. She was doing it to excite and exhilarate him, from a position of love and not from perversion or humiliation. She had demonstrated throughout high school that modesty was preferred when love was not involved.

"Like it? I LOVE it," he affirmed, "but it's giving me a boner that everyone here will notice."

"Doesn't that make you feel a naughty thrill?" Tiffany asked. Dave wasn't so sure. It was exciting for her, but a little scary for him.

She could read the hesitation on his face. "Anyway, it's not like you'll get arrested," she said, "at least not as long as you keep it in your shorts."

"You can be sure of that," he agreed good-naturedly.

His gaze passed over her leotard. "What a BEAUTIFUL ass," he thought silently.

Others in the room thought that very thought. As Tiffany ran on the treadmill, ass cheeks bouncing to the rhythm of her stride, all eyes in the room were fixed upon her. Dave's stare was blatant; the others were surreptitious in their glances, though one of the more hefty women glared overtly.

A short while later, Tiffany lay on her back on a bench and pressed upward on the arms of a weight machine. Her knees were a couple of feet apart, providing an enticing view of her barely-covered crotch. A couple of the men strolled slowly by in hopes of catching a glimpse of her snatch. They were disappointed, but they did get a good look at a great deal of her feminine flesh.

Dave didn't like the obvious interest that they showed, and came over to "help her with the machine." He wanted to make it clear to all that she was his woman and he was her man.

Tiffany was glad of the security of having Dave at her side. She liked the thrill of being a bit of an exhibitionist, but she didn't want some stranger trying to paw her.

When they had finished their workout, they went to the separate changing rooms to shower and change. Despite taking showers, they would soon need another one.

The exhilaration of Tiffany's daring display and Dave's chivalrous intervention had them both 'hot to trot,' as the saying goes. They couldn't keep their hands off each other when they returned to the room. They engaged in frantic fucking, then gentle lovemaking. They hit the shower again, together this time, an hour after their separate showers.

They spent the rest of the day as tourists, walking hand-in-hand beside monuments and through museums. Dave had hoped to fool Tiffany by asking her early in the day if she wanted to go to "The Mall," but she was too knowledgeable to fall for it. She knew that The National Mall was the grassy rectangular region central to many of the more famous monuments and buildings in the historic section of Washington.

By nightfall, Tiffany's feet were sore from all the walking. Dave suggested that they return for an early night of sleep since the elimination round of the contest would take place the next morning.

Back in their room, stomachs full after consuming corn dogs from a street vendor, Dave and Tiffany lay on the bed watching a television show. Resting against pillows propped against the headboard, Tiffany snuggled in Dave's arms. She felt so much at peace with the world. She lay her head on his shoulder.

Dave felt an equal sense of peaceful bliss. Tiffany had come bursting into his world these past few weeks after spending an entire school year as a thorn in his side, but somehow now had set everything right. The two of them fell asleep, fully clothed, until the sounds from the television woke Dave around 3 A.M.

He turned the T.V. off and quickly undressed down to underwear and T-shirt. Being careful not to wake Tiffany, he covered her gently and slipped under the covers himself. He watched her angelic face, her gentle breathing, before turning off the bedside lamp.




Teacher's Pest Ch. 03



He was tempted to undress her so she'd be more comfortable sleeping, but he knew he wouldn't have the discipline to stop at that. She'd need her rest for the test in the morning. Their next coupling could wait.

* * * * *

It was Wednesday morning. The National Chemistry Contest was being held at the Smithsonian Institution, near the information center in the central complex, in the building known simply as "The Castle." There would be two more rounds of competition to determine a winner from among the fifty-two students who had converged on the nation's capital.

There were two students who had qualified from each state and the District of Columbia on the national exam. A preliminary elimination exam today would leave twenty-six candidates remaining for the final exam on Saturday. The grand prize would then be awarded at a banquet on Saturday night after grading of all twenty-six exams was complete.

The candidates and their sponsors gathered at "The Castle." Tiffany was in good spirits as she entered the exam room. Dave was as nervous as an expectant father.

For three hours, from 9:00AM until noon, he waited outside the exam room. He tried, to no avail, to make significant progress through the latest John Grisham novel he was reading. He made one trip to the soda machines and three trips to the men's room. He repeatedly checked his watch.

Finally, the clock struck twelve. With no pumpkins in sight, Dave's young Cinderella emerged from the exam room. She wore a broad smile and some incredibly sexy jeans. Dave felt his erection swelling as soon as he saw her. The butterflies in his stomach dissipated as the little warriors in his testicles won the battle for attention.

"Hey, sexy -- how'd it go?" he asked Tiffany.

"I aced it," she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Great! I knew you could do it!" he replied.

"We'll see. It's graded on a curve; only the top twenty-six move on. If EVERYONE aced it, I could be done," she reminded him.

They put thoughts of the exam aside and went to get some lunch. Afterward, they spent the rest of the afternoon wandering through different parts of the Smithsonian. Dave's favorite was the National Air and Space Museum, especially the ride on a flight simulator. Tiffany preferred the prehistoric section of the Museum of Natural History.

Just before dinner, it was time to regroup with the other contestants to check the posting of finalists at The Castle. There was little fanfare; just a few gasps and a few squeals as the list was displayed by PowerPoint on a large white screen at precisely 5:00. There were no introductions, no applause. That would be saved for the finals on Saturday night.

Dave's eyes ran down the list quickly. Pleased but not surprised, he found "Criswell, Tiffany" a short way down the list of passing candidates. He turned to her and hugged her close. "Congratulations," he said, "I'm so proud of you!"

"Yeah, well, like I said, I had a pretty damned good chemistry teacher. He's good at a LOT of things," she taunted provocatively.

Dave's grin nearly touched both ears. "Say, I have an idea for a celebration," he offered.

"Yes?" she replied with a raised eyebrow and a "fuck me" smile.

"I want to introduce you to one of my favorite pastimes," he said.

"I think I already know what THAT is," she laughed.

"No, not that -- my SECOND favorite pastime: baseball. The national sport. You know, 'the boys of summer' and all that. It's now finally back in the nation's capital."

"Well, actually, I know quite a bit about baseball..."

"Why am I not surprised?" Dave responded. "Is there ANYTHING about which you're ignorant?"

"I was totally ignorant that anal penetration would make me need to take a crap," she confessed light-heartedly, recalling with a strange blend of embarrassment and tenderness the events of their first night in Washington.

Dave smiled at the memory from Monday night, then changed the subject. "Look, Tiff -- Stephen Strasburg is pitching tonight..."

"The pitching phenom for the Nats?"

"My gosh," thought Dave, "she not only knows one of the newest stars in the sport, she even knows the nickname of the Washington Nationals. What a dream girl!"

Aloud, Dave said, "Yes, that's him. How about we catch a cab to the stadium? We can watch batting practice and have dinner there. I always have to eat a hot dog and some roasted peanuts at a ball game."

"I can think of a hot dog I'd like to eat, and I could just do that in the room," she laughed, watching him blush in response. 

From his body language, she could see that he truly wanted to take her to the baseball game. "Sure, Dave," she replied more seriously, "let's just stop by the hotel and pick up our jackets. We can take a blanket, too -- it's supposed to be unseasonably chilly this evening."

Dave thought about the last time they had had a blanket in a moving vehicle. He suspected that there was more on Tiffany's mind than the cool night air.

To his surprise, she remained well-behaved during the cab ride. Arriving at the stadium, Dave and Tiffany were directed to their seats by a stadium employee. The Nats were playing the lowly Mets, division rivals who had struggled in recent years. 

The Mets were just getting their ace pitcher, Johan Santana, back from injury. It was a much-anticipated pitchers' duel, the Mets' ace of the past against the Nats' ace of the future. The stadium was filling up quickly.

As the game progressed, after the hot dogs and peanuts were gone, Tiffany began to flirt with Dave using baseball banter. "Look what big BATS those boys of summer have," she said to Dave, "but I'm sure none of them has a BARREL as big as YOURS."

"Yeah, they don't SCORE as often as I do, either," he fired back.

"Oh, yes, you're good at SLIDING IN safely," she taunted.

"Holy shit!" Dave thought, "I can't keep up with her!" He was sure he wouldn't be able to concentrate on the game with talk like this coming out of her mouth. "Okay, okay, let's talk about something else," he said, "I won't be able to wait until we get back to the hotel if you keep that up!"

"Is that a promise?" she taunted, grinning mischievously.

He put his arm around her shoulders and tried to watch the game. Her hand on his knee and then his thigh kept drawing his attention away from the baseball action. Tiffany had action of another kind in mind.

"Dave! I have a GREAT idea for a game we could play!" she declared emphatically.

He could see that her hormones were working overtime. "Yes, dear?" he asked calmly.

"You know the old high school euphemisms from baseball for progressive sexual acts?"

"Huh?" he asked, truly confused.

"You know -- getting to 'first base' means kissing, 'second base' is fondling breasts, 'third base' is digital penetration, and a 'home run' is full-fledged fucking..."

"Um, yes..."

"Well, we're at a BASEBALL game. And we have a blanket!"

"Yes..."

"So, when a player gets to first base, we kiss. And when a player gets to second base, you feel me up. And when a player gets to third base..."

"I think I get the idea," he said, his cock stirring in his pants. He was worried about the tens of thousands of fans who filled the stadium. But then he remembered the blanket, and the visual shield a similar one had provided them on the train to Washington. They had successfully reprised the train scene from "Risky Business" with little more attention than a smile from an inquisitive little old lady.

"Good thing this is a pitcher's duel," he said coyly, "but I'm game if you are."

"Game on, lover boy!" she cooed in his ear.

It was already the bottom of the fifth inning, so there was only half a game to go. The score was tied at 1-1. The Nats were quickly put down in order by Santana to end the fifth inning. 

In the top of the sixth inning, Strasburg struck out the first two batters but then walked the third batter -- runner on first base. Tiffany leaned toward Dave for her kiss, and he gladly complied. The next batter hit a ground ball that was fielded cleanly and tossed to first base for the end of the inning.

In the bottom of the sixth, the Nats began a rally. The first batter singled, so Dave and Tiffany kissed again, a long, languorous tongue-fondling smooch. The runner promptly stole second, and Dave began fondling Tiffany's breasts under the blanket. He was not surprised to find that she had already unfastened her bra in anticipation. Her nipples were already standing at attention when Dave first began to rub and knead them between his thumb and finger.

The next batter walked, so there was no advance past second base, either on the field or on Tiffany's body. However, the following batter hit a line grounder for which the shortstop dove and scooped, firing to second base and then on to first for a double play. That left two outs and -- you guessed it -- a runner on third base.

Tiffany spread her legs in anticipation. She had already pulled her skintight jeans and panties down to her knees underneath the blanket by the time Dave's fingers arrived at "third base."

Dave was feeling nearly as much of a rush as Tiffany. Her moistness didn't surprise him, and his fingers quickly slid safely into third. Dave's erection was caught in his underwear and starting to make him uncomfortable. 

"Tiff, I've got a 'preDICKament', so to speak," he punned quietly, nodding at his crotch, "do you think you could help get me loose?"

"The way you're getting ME loose, how could I refuse you?" she replied. Her cunt was sopping wet and buzzing happily as his fingers stoked her inner fires. She reached her hands below the blanket and freed his cock, giving it a little tug of affection.

Just then they heard the crack of the bat and a roar of the fans. A fly ball had been hit to deep right field. The right fielder ran toward the wall and caught it at the back of the warning track. It was the third out -- inning over.

"Crap," said Dave, "just when I thought I was about to get lucky!"

"Let's play by the rules," Tiffany retorted, "but just remember, the game of baseball can't end in a tie."

"So -- you're RIGHT -- somebody has to SCORE before the game is over!"

"But remember, it's not just a run -- it's a HOME run that's needed."

"Rules were made to be broken..." Dave whispered in her ear. 

As he leaned in to give her a kiss, his finger still buried in her vagina, a man from further down the row began forcing his way toward them. He was obviously headed for either the concessions or the restroom. The man was rather large, and everyone between them had to stand to allow him room to pass.

Dave quickly but carefully pulled his fingers out of Tiffany's pussy, allowing her to stand. They kept the blanket wrapped around their waists. When he caught her gaze, he slowly and deliberately raised his fingers to his mouth and sucked her juices off them. Tiffany raised a lone eyebrow and smiled.

Half an inning later, after standing again with blanket in tow for the seventh inning stretch, Dave and Tiffany snuggled closely together. Dave was thinking about how much he wanted her, especially after falling asleep clothed last night and resisting the temptation at 3AM to undress and make love to her. It had been the right decision, he told himself, as she had gotten the rest she needed and excelled on the exam.

Tiffany was equally horny, especially after the wonderful fingering Dave had given her in the bottom of the sixth. The Mets had gotten no base runners in the top of the seventh, so they hadn't even kissed since the fat man had passed by.

With two outs in the bottom of the seventh, and a relief pitcher on for Santana, Dave commented on the next batter for the Nats. "Jayson Werth," he said deridingly, "he had a TERRIBLE season last year. What a waste of a long-term contract!"

At that moment, Werth smacked the ball with overpowering force. There was no doubt about it as the ball easily cleared the center field fence -- home run! Werth scored to break the tie.

The crowd stood and erupted in cheers and applause. Over their din, Dave shouted, "Like I was saying -- Werth's my HERO!"

Tiffany smiled knowingly at her man. As they prepared to sit back down with the crowd, she stood in front of him. The idea was to share the seat, her sitting in his lap. The batter had hit a home run, and so, according to the rules of THEIR game, Dave and Tiffany would score. Little did the other patrons know what was going on underneath the blanket.

As he sat down, Dave's cock stood like a flagstick on a golf course. It just needed to be planted in the hole. 

Tiffany hovered over Dave's flagstick momentarily. Trying not to be too obvious, she kept both hands outside the blanket and aimed as best she could. With just a slight wiggling of her hips, she was able to spear herself on Dave's flagstick, all the way to its hilt. "Mmmmm," she moaned, Dave's cock nestled in her vagina.

The seventh inning ended, but thankfully nobody tried to exit their row. Because of the crowd all around, both of them tried to keep their rocking and thrusts to a less-than-noticeable level. However, because of the thrill of nearly-public copulation, both were nearing orgasm without much movement.

Dave whispered in her ear. "I love you, Tiffany Criswell."

"Mmmmm," she purred, "I know. Back at you, big boy. And I mean BIG."

Dave's cock was swelling inside her, despite the minimal level of kinetic energy. Just then, Tiffany looked up at the Jumbotron scoreboard and saw herself, face filled with bliss, on the big screen. "Omigod," she said, "Dave -- look!"

He peered in the direction that she pointed and saw the same thing. Tiffany on his lap, his head beside hers, blanket over their laps -- with the word "KISS" imprinted at the bottom of the image.

"Holy shit!" Dave said, "It's the KISS CAM."

"What's THAT?" she asked, squeezing his dick by tightening her vaginal muscles. Dave nearly spurted inside her as the camera zoomed in on them.

"Um... holy shit... it's a camera they point at couples between innings at certain points in the game... to encourage them to kiss... it's a real crowd-pleaser..."

They heard the chants of "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" begin to stir. From the crowd's perspective, this attractive young couple was taking too long to kiss. They needed some public encouragement, as the camera wouldn't move on to the next couple until they kissed. 

Tiffany, though facing away from him and attached at the groin, managed to turn her head somewhat toward him. Dave leaned forward and kissed her lip-to-side-of-lip, then thrust his tongue out in invitation. Tiffany licked his tongue with hers. The Kiss Cam caught it all, and the crowd went wild.

Just before the camera moved on, Tiffany said, "Omigod! I'm cumming, Dave!"

He clamped his hands on her hips and pushed as deep in her as he could get. His dick twitched and spurted. "Me, too!" he exclaimed.

The camera left them in the throes of mutual orgasm. Nobody watching them realized there was anything more than a playful couple swapping spit for the camera -- at least, Dave didn't think so. In truth, they were swapping more intimate bodily fluids. Tiffany secretly hoped that some of the onlookers knew the truth.

* * * * *

It was early Thursday evening, and they were conversing over dinner after a long day of sightseeing. They had passed by the Capitol building, climbed the Washington monument, held hands at the United States Botanic Garden, and lingered at the National Gallery of Art. They had spent some quiet time at the Korean War Veterans Memorial, where Dave had been quite somber.

"Dave, what was on your mind at the Korean War Memorial?" asked Tiffany.

"Nothing much..."

"Are you sure?"

"I think so. Maybe sometime we can talk about it. It doesn't really have anything directly to do with you, or with us."

"I'm glad of that, but I want you to know you can talk to me about anything."

"I know, sweetheart," he said, "and I will when the time is right."

Tiffany decided that the better part of wisdom was not to push him. She instead approached him about something else.

"I can talk to YOU about anything, too -- right?"

"Of course, darling -- what do you want to talk about?"

"It's sort of silly. I'm not sure you'll want to hear it." 

"Of course I will -- what is it?" he asked.

"I'm just not sure you'll be up for what I'm about to ask."

"Ask away. I can always say 'no' if I don't like it. But when it comes to you, I have a hard time saying 'no.' Sometimes a very HARD time, if you know what I mean," he chortled.

"I do know indeed. And my request is along those lines -- of me getting you hard. I've been thinking how exciting it would be for us to fuck in front of one of the monuments," Tiffany said, "and maybe we could even take our own picture with my digital camera to preserve the moment."

"Wow! You ARE a brash one!" Dave responded. "But I like your sense of adventure. If we could do it without getting arrested, I just might be able to be talked into it." 

He reflected for a moment, his smile disappearing, then added, "But not at any of the war monuments. I couldn't bring myself to disrespect those who sacrificed their lives for our freedom."

"Me neither," Tiffany agreed, "but I don't see genuine lovemaking as a means of disrespect. It's not like we're being paid to do it, or are trying to make a mockery of the monuments. It's actually a way to honor freedom -- to demonstrate COMPLETE freedom to express ourselves."

"Well, let's still stay away from the war monuments. They're more of a place to mourn than to celebrate..." His voice trailed off, and his head dropped.

"Dave? Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'll be okay," he answered. He gathered himself and put on a good face. "We'll find a place to celebrate our love rather than mourn the loss of the fallen. I'm caring less and less about what others think. I want to make you happy, and I think it'll be good for me. Let's just not get arrested."

"You're sure it's okay?"

Dave could see that she needed his assurance that it wasn't a selfish request. He truly was excited about the prospect, even though he hadn't originated the idea. His somber turn was from a different thought, one that grasped his consciousness as he thought about the war monuments. It was the same thought that had struck him at the Korean War Memorial. He would talk to Tiffany about it one day soon; he just wasn't ready yet.

He tried to smile, and gave her a hug. "Tiff, it's not JUST okay. I truly WANT to celebrate our love and our FREEDOM to love, just like you said. And I have a GREAT idea as to where."

"Where's that?" she asked excitedly.

"At the Lincoln Memorial. Lincoln was the true father of American freedom for all, with his emancipation of the slaves. It's only fitting that we celebrate our freedom there. And it's secluded, so that if we catch it at the right time, we can keep from getting arrested."

"What would be 'the right time'?" she asked.

"The monuments clear out after dark. How about tonight, when we're finished dinner?"

She reached out and squeezed his hand, then leaned in for a kiss.

"You've got yourself another date, mister," she groaned huskily in his ear.

From her perspective, dinner couldn't be over quickly enough. But she knew the sun wouldn't go down any faster if they hurried, so she kept the conversation going and gave Dave time to enjoy a bowl of ice cream for dessert. She, though, was too full of excitement to fill her stomach with food.

Back at the room, they decided it would be best for Tiffany to wear a skirt and no panties to the Lincoln Memorial. It would give better access to meet both objectives: sex at the monument, without getting arrested. Dave wore a pair of baggy shorts with no underwear, aimed at the same goals. Both had put on loose fitting shirts. 




Teacher's Pest Ch. 03



Thankfully, the air was warmer tonight than at the ballgame the night before. They walked in growing anticipation from the hotel toward the Lincoln Memorial at the west end of The Mall. The orange and purple hues of the setting sun served as a backdrop to their destination. Tiffany felt a surge of excitement as they climbed the long set of stairs leading up to the monument.

When they arrived, several members of a Japanese tour group were taking pictures. Dave and Tiffany took time to read some of the inscriptions as they waited. Tiffany was fascinated by the huge 12 foot by 60 foot "Emancipation" mural by Jules Guerin, representing Freedom and Liberty, the crux of Lincoln's legacy. 

"I wonder if we could get THEM to photograph us in our celebration of Freedom?" Tiffany teased, nodding toward the Japanese tourists. Dave shook his head in silent rejection of the idea.

Before long, the tour group moved on. Dave went to the top of the steps to make sure nobody else was approaching. The coast was clear. "Ready?" Dave asked as he returned to Tiffany, who stood staring at the statue of Lincoln.

"Touch me and see," she answered, "please..."

Dave reached his hand under Tiffany's skirt. Feeling her warmth and wetness, Dave nodded. "Ready indeed," he affirmed. "I hope Abe didn't do this to you -- I'll have to kick his ass." Tiffany loved it when Dave loosened up and cracked jokes.

"No -- only you get me wet, baby. And who gets you hard?" she asked. 

"Just you, Tiff -- you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Are you as hard as I am wet?"

He smirked at her, one eyebrow raised, willing her to read his mind. "I know," she said, "touch you and see."

She slid her hand inside his baggy shorts and grasped his hard-on. "You're ready indeed," she affirmed.

"We should try to make this fast," Dave suggested with a nervous chuckle, looking around.

"Not TOO fast, big boy. Got the camera?"

Still stroking Tiffany's warm, slippery labia with his fingers below her skirt, Dave reached in the pocket of his gym shorts with his other hand. "Got it," he said, displaying Tiffany's small digital camera. He pushed the "on" button. 

Inverting the display screen, Dave held the camera at arm's length. He tilted it in his hand until he and Tiffany came into view. 

"What do you want in the picture?" he asked.

Tiffany grinned coyly. "Well, I want proof positive of penetration, with Abe looking on in approval in the background. Ideally, our faces will be in view as well."

"I'm not sure my arm's that long," Dave retorted, "so we may have to resort to asking one of those Japanese tourists help us to frame that view after all."

"Now you're tempting me," Tiffany smiled.

"The language barrier's too high," Dave said in self-defense.

"Actually, I learned some Japanese when my folks took me to Tokyo when I was younger."

"Why am I not surprised?" Dave answered, "But I doubt you learned how to ask 'Will you take a picture of us fucking?'"

"Touché," she replied.

"Okay, tell you what -- let's start with the penetration part of the equation. Everything else should flow from there."

"I thought you'd never ask," she laughed.

Dave removed his fingers from beneath her skirt and licked them to provide additional lubrication. He swirled them around her slit and then slid them inside her warm, moist love tunnel. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "I love you, Tiffany Criswell," he sighed.

"I love you, too, Dave -- unconditionally."

"Unconditionally -- so I don't have to do this?" he teased.

Tiffany's lower lip formed a quick pout. Dave smiled in response. "I WANT to do this, Tiff," he assured her.

"Me, too -- now let's get this show on the road. I want you to fuck me, Dave -- right here, right now."

Despite her words, Tiffany made the first move. She pulled Dave's shorts halfway down his thighs. She took a few moments to stroke his shaft gently to a more fulsome erection. She then bent over and hiked her skirt above her hips. "Doggy style?" asked Dave.

"Yes, just to get you inside me. Then we'll both stand up. We'll take the photo from the front, with you standing behind me. I'll spread my legs and lean back into you. That way your dick will be visible penetrating my pussy. We'll want to take the picture with you halfway inside me."

"Your wish is my command," Dave replied. He pushed his cock up against her labia from behind, using his hands to spread the bottom of her ass cheeks to give him better access to her cunt. Tiffany had to lean all the way forward, hands on the concrete with her rear end in the air, for Dave to finally and fully penetrate her vaginal slit. Once inside, Dave waited a moment for his cock to adjust to her tightness -- or her pussy to adjust to his hardness, he wasn't sure which -- so as not to hurt her.

"Mmmm, feels good," said Tiffany, "I'm going to stand up now -- keep it inside me."

Dave pushed his cock deeper inside her and grasped her midsection with his free hand to keep her skirt from falling down and obscuring the camera's view as she raised herself up. Once she was upright, he extended his fingers further around front to massage her clit. He began thrusting into her from behind.

"Ooh, baby, that feels good," Tiffany assured him.

"Uh-huh," Dave grunted.

"Really give it to me, Dave -- hard and fast!" she exhorted breathlessly.

Dave wanted to object, to tell her that they just needed to take the photo and leave, but he couldn't resist her words or her body. He began pumping furiously, simultaneously frigging her clit.

The fact that they were fucking in front of the Lincoln Memorial brought Tiffany near orgasm almost right away. Dave, while not as dramatically inspired by their public venue, was at least able to maintain an erection for the purpose at hand. 

"Dave..." she murmured. "Dave, get the camera ready. I'm about to cum!"

Dave steadied the camera in his left hand as he continued stroking her clit with his right. Tiffany leaned back against him and spread her legs for the camera. Dave's penis was clearly visible in the viewfinder, sliding deeper and then shallower into her vagina.

"Dave... Dave..." Tiffany's voice became higher-pitched, ending nearly in a squeal. "Dave, take the picture -- take the picture!"

He felt her pussy pulsing around his cock. He knew she was cumming at that instant. He moved his fingers away from her pubic area to reveal her slit for the photo. Her landing strip was visible above the naughty view of his dick pistoning into her vagina -- a truly erotic scene. Dave tilted the camera so that Abe was visible over Tiffany's shoulder. 

Dave snapped the photo. He had used a wide angle lens, and was able to capture both of their faces in the field of view as well. Tiffany had a look of orgasmic bliss on her angelic face. Dave's mug carried a look of concern. His concerns were justified.

"Um, folks, what's going on here?" a booming baritone voice inquired from a distance. The echo of footsteps clicking against the pavement reverberated inside the memorial.

Dave gently but immediately extricated his cock from Tiffany's snatch. He pulled his gym shorts back up while she hurriedly smoothed her skirt back down over her hips and thighs. Dave stuffed the camera back in his pocket.

"Folks, can I ask what's going on?" the man reiterated as he approached. He was in the greenish khaki uniform of a National Parks employee. His uniform indicated that he worked with Parks security.

"N-n-not much," Dave stammered. He was certain they were about to be arrested.

"Is that right?" the security man asked, looking back and forth from Dave to Tiffany. Her heaving breath hinted at the orgasmic eruption she had just experienced.

"No trouble, officer," she managed to exhale between gasps for breath. The aroma of sex was heavy in the air.

The man was silent for a moment. Staring at them, seeming to ponder a question or statement, he finally spoke. "Okay, folks, let's move along," he said.

"Thank you, sir," Dave replied gratefully.

"Yes, officer -- thank you," Tiffany agreed demurely. She and Dave began a hasty retreat. Dave was certain he caught a wink from the officer as they passed by him.

As they reached the top of the steps to descend the memorial, the security man, trailing more slowly behind them, called out. "Just remember, folks," he hollered, "each of the monuments has security cameras all around them. Don't try any stunts like that again."

* * * * * 

Friday was overcast and muggy. The cherry blossoms of Washington in springtime had given way to the profuse green growth of early summer.

As they walked along the Potomac, Tiffany asked, "Did you know that these cherry trees were a gift from Japan?"

"No -- tell me about it," replied Dave.

"Yes -- a hundred years ago. Mayor Ozaki of Tokyo gave a whole whack of Japanese cherry trees to the city of Washington as a gesture of friendship. It was in late March of 1912, less than a month before the Titanic went down."

"But the two were unrelated?" Dave asked.

"No, silly, the Titanic was sunk by a clump of cherry trees lost off a Japanese ocean liner in the North Atlantic," Tiffany deadpanned. Dave stared at her in confusion. "I think you're wearing your moron cap today, 'Mr. B.'," she taunted affectionately.

"Guilty as charged," Dave laughed, "And speaking of guilty, I'm sure glad we didn't get busted last night by that security officer. That would have made a great headline in the Washington Post -- 'National Chemistry Contest finalist arrested for lewd conduct at the Lincoln Memorial'."

"But what a BUZZ it was!" Tiffany exclaimed. "Admit it, Dave -- you LIKED it!"

"I would have liked it a lot better if he had waited to show up until after I had a chance to cum," Dave countered.

"But then you might not have been 'up' for that fantastic blow job I gave you back at the hotel," Tiffany reminded him.

"Deferral does have its benefits," Dave admitted.

"Anyway, Dave -- like I was saying, these cherry trees were a gift. Everyone knows about the Statue of Liberty being a gift to the U.S. from France. Very few realize the annual wonder of the cherry trees blossoming in D.C. are a gift from Japan."

"Did you learn that from one of your trips to Tokyo?"

"No, I did some research before we came to Washington. I wanted to get the full benefit of the visit. Aside from the honeymoon aspect, that is."

Dave thought he saw a tinge of color on Tiffany's cheeks. Had she blushed?

"Speaking of the 'honeymoon', Tiff -- do you realize what today is?"

"Sure. It's Friday," she replied. Her eyes were downcast.

"Which is?..." He waited for her reply.

"One week."

"Yes. A week since someone other than the mayor of Tokyo gave me a cherry of a different kind." Dave placed his hand in hers. "A gesture of something greater than friendship..."

"You and your virginal metaphors," she laughed, "Any regrets, Dave?"

"None whatsoever. You?"

"Only that I waited so long to get your attention."

"Much sooner and you'd have lost me my job," he teased.

They walked in silent kinship along the river. Heading north, they hurried past the Lincoln Memorial, site of last night's erotic rendezvous and near-arrest. They slowed as they walked eastward, coming upon "the Wall": the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.

Dave's hand gripped Tiffany's more tightly as they approached. Despite the grey and cloudy day, the Wall's carved stone surface glistened like polished onyx. Tiffany was stirred by the rows and rows of names, each one representing a fallen soldier.

"Look at that..." she whispered. She rubbed two fingers across a soldier's name, feeling the imprint of the engraved letters.

Dave needed no prodding. He knelt down and touched a miniature American flag lodged into a seam in the wall. He rubbed the engraved name of another fallen soldier.

The thoughts that had troubled Dave's mind at the Korean War Memorial came flying back. He placed a hand against the Wall, struggling for leverage. He hung his head.

"Dave -- are you okay?" asked Tiffany with concern.

"Um... yeah, Tiff. It's just what I said before. The war monuments are not a place to celebrate. They're a place to mourn."

Tiffany saw a tear trickling down the side of Dave's nose.

"Dave... talk to me, sweetheart. It's more than that, isn't it? There's something -- personal in it for you." She knelt beside him.

Dave leaned his head against her shoulder. She placed an arm around him.

"Tiff -- I've never -- talked to you about my dad..."

"Was he in Vietnam?"

"No. That was before his time. He was in the Gulf War."

"And -- what happened?"

"He died when I was five. He was killed in action in early 1991, in Operation Desert Storm. It was on my mom's birthday -- January 31st." Dave paused, collecting himself.

"They called it a bloodless war. For me, nothing could be further from the truth. 'Only' a hundred and forty-eight battle-related deaths, but my dad was one of them."

Tiffany gazed at Dave. She saw the eyes of a five year-old boy who'd lost his father. She wanted to speak, to make it better. She couldn't find the right words; she simply hugged him closer. A few more tears dribbled down the edge of Dave's nose. Tiffany found herself suppressing her own tears.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

"I don't know. There's not much to say."

"Tell me about your dad," she prompted.

"He was a good man," Dave answered, "but I didn't see him very often. He was on tours of duty for much of my early life. I only have vague recollections of him."

"Tell me about them. I want to know," she asked sincerely. She stood and helped him to his feet. They began strolling slowly along the wall.

"I really don't remember much," Dave confessed. "I remember looking up at him -- he was so tall! I remember seeing his nose hairs. Keep in mind, I was just a little tyke!"

Dave smiled at the recollection. Tiffany smiled with him.

"And I remember him taking me fishing," Dave continued. "I was so proud when I caught my first fish. He got the hook out for me and tossed the fish back in the water. But he took a picture of me with it first."

She waited, nodding, leaving enough silence to prompt him to continue as they walked.

"And I remember him bringing me a stocking full of candy and miniature toys one Christmas. He had it with him when we picked him up at the base. It was one of those pre-packaged net stocking things. I think he must have bought it at the canteen. That was on his last leave before his death. I remember it vividly."

"It sounds like he loved his son dearly," Tiffany managed to say, a catch in her throat.

"Yeah. I think he did, Tiff. We just didn't have enough time together. Not nearly enough."

"And what about your mom?"

"She did her best to raise my brothers and me. She never remarried -- at least she hasn't yet."

"And what about you, Dave?"

"What do you mean, Tiff?"

"How has losing your dad affected you?"

"That's a hard one to answer objectively."

"Sure, I know -- you can't step outside your own mind. But subjectively, what do you think?"

"It's made me hate war. And it's made me want to be a dad -- to give to a son or daughter what my dad was unable to give to me."

"What's that?"

"My TIME. That's one of the reasons I chose to be a teacher -- so I'd have the same time off school as my kids, so I can spend it with them. I also chose to be a teacher because I want to make a difference in the lives of other people's kids."

Tiffany already knew that she loved this man completely -- but now she it crossed her mind that she wanted to bear his children. "First things first," she told herself silently, "one step at a time. Work on a relationship and make sure it will last."

Aloud, she said, "I'm absolutely certain your dad would be proud of you."

Dave managed a smile. "I'm certainly proud of him..."

"Is there a memorial here in Washington for Gulf War veterans?" Tiffany asked.

"No, not here," Dave answered. "There's one in Cumberland, Maryland. It's called 'The Books of the Fallen'. Someday, I'm going to go there to see it. It's just in a strange location that's not a natural place to visit. Off the beaten path, so to speak."

Tiffany stopped and turned to Dave. "You need to go there," she said, "you need a chance to mourn your dad in the right place."

"Yes -- someday."

Tiffany hugged her man, then tilted her head up and gave him a tender kiss on the lips. "Someday soon," she said.

They continued to walk eastward and made their way past the Washington Monument, back toward the hotel. There, they had an early dinner and retired to their room for an evening of gentle lovemaking. They fell asleep, naked in each other's arms, and dreamt good dreams until the alarm went off the next morning.

* * * * *

Saturday morning, the final round of the National Chemistry Contest was set to begin at 9:00 AM back at "The Castle." Dave's nerves were not as frayed as they had been on Wednesday morning. He even finished a few more chapters in his Grisham novel.

Precisely at noon, Tiffany emerged from the exam room. "How'd you do?" asked Dave as they walked toward the cafeteria.

"Nailed it," Tiffany replied nonchalantly.

"Great! But, of course, I know about the curve and all..."

"Yeah, well, I did my best, anyway. I know you were worried about me not giving it my all. I can honestly say I took a prodigious swing of the bat, and I'm watching the ball to see if it clears the fence."

"Ah -- home run metaphor! Brings back fond memories from the Nats' game on Wednesday night..."

"So Werth is still your hero?" she laughed.

"Forever and always," smiled Dave, "he's responsible for me getting lucky at a major league baseball game."

"My hero's the guy running the 'Kiss Cam'," Tiffany teased.

Both their minds drifted to the Jumbotron at Nationals Park. It had been one mind-blowing experience indeed. What had been the odds they'd get caught on camera while orgasming together?

They found a table and sat down with their cafeteria food. Tiffany was the first to speak as they ate their lunch. "Dave, I've been thinking..."

"That could be dangerous."

"Well, yeah, maybe... I've been thinking about tonight being our last night in Washington."

"Yeah. Seems like the 'honeymoon' was too short."

"It'll be okay," she said, "we can continue the honeymoon when we get back. But I was thinking -- it would be nice to go out with a bang, so to speak."

"Holy shit, Tiff -- you're not suggesting a gang bang, are you?"

Tiffany erupted into a fit of giggles. "No, silly," she virtually shrieked in mirth, "I just thought we should leave Washington with one last special memory. Just the two of us, and a bunch of onlookers."

"You must be talking about picking up your trophy at the National Chemistry Contest -- and the applause you'll get from the crowd at tonight's awards banquet."

"Actually, I was thinking about something special AFTER the banquet. There may or may not be applause from a crowd..."

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours, Tiff?" Dave inquired.

"You know how much of a rush it's been doing our deeds in near-public places and nearly getting caught..."

"I seem to recall a train, a pool and hot tub, a gym, a major league baseball game, the Lincoln Memorial..."

"You make us sound like rabbits, Dave!" Tiffany gasped.

"Exhibitionist rabbits," Dave corrected.

"Well, we didn't actually DO IT at the gym..."

"No, but those workout boys got an eyeful of beautiful ass and thigh. And we sure got our rabbit on right afterward back in the room..."

"Okay, Dave -- you made your point." She stuck out her lower lip and lowered her lashes.

"But I ENJOYED every minute, every venue -- and the fact that we didn't get arrested," said Dave. "It gives a whole new meaning to the oft-used phrase 'the antics in Washington'..."