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The GED

By: sr71plt



He came to me in the night. It was always in the night. In the daylight we both pretended that there was no nightly visitation. But he was highly sexed, and since my mom died, he came to me often at night. He waited until I'd turned eighteen, but after that, he came for me.

"Dad . . ." I murmured, still only half awake.

"Shush. Take this."

I was on my back and he was straddling my chest with his knees and leaning over me, holding my arms out and above my head with strong fists encasing my wrists. I felt the tip of his erect cock at my lips and I opened to him, and we both moaned quietly in the dark as he stroked his cock in and out of my mouth, hardening it and arousing him further—and slicking up his tool for what he'd do later.

When he was sufficiently aroused, he moved his knees and lips down my chest and belly and swallowed my balls as his hand went to my cock. His hand went to join the other to cup and raise and separate my butt cheeks as his mouth went to my entrance. His hand on my cock was replaced by one of my own, and I lay there, looking dumbly toward the window, watching the wind sway the branches of the willow tree, and stroking myself. For a moment I had the sensation of someone being there, watching us, but I had shut my systems down. I didn't care and my senses weren't on alert. I was trying to transport myself to someplace else altogether.

He pulled my sleeping shorts—all that I was wearing—off my legs.

"Turn on your belly." The voice was low, raspy, needy.

"Dad . . ." I murmured again. It was all I could manage, and I knew it had no effect.

"Turn on your belly, son."

With a sigh of resignation, I did as he commanded. I always did as he commanded, whether day or night.

A heavily muscled arm went under my lower belly and lifted me to my knees, while a palm between my shoulder blades pushed my chest down on the cool sheet. He was crouched over me from behind, his thighs encasing mine. I felt the stretch and filling of the entry. But no pain. There hadn't been pain, really, for months. My channel was fit to his cock now. He just slid up into me as I gasped slightly and groaned the almost nightly possession by him.

One of his fists went to the wrist of my left arm and pinned it to the bed above my head. He let me have the use of my right hand—he'd done so for nearly two months now—and I moved it to my cock and began stroking it again to the rhythm of his fucking cock.

He moved his other hand between gripping my waist and pinching my nipple and turning my head toward his face when he brought it down to my head. When he did that, we kissed, deeply, his tongue invading and searching my mouth cavity. This was something else that had only entered the ritual in the last month or so.

My lips freed, I once more turned my head and gazed at the window—and once more had the sensation of someone or something pulling away from it out there as I turned my head. Then I closed my eyes and concentrated again on not being there.

The nature of pretending I wasn't really involved in what was happening to me in the night had changed in the last month or too also—and it scared me. In the initial months, I had zoned out to deny it was happening. Now I was zoning out because I was beginning to need it—to look forward to it each night.

Of course he really wasn't my dad—not my biological dad—and nothing that he was doing was something I could report him for, something I could stop, short of fighting him, which, considering our differing sizes and physical power, was a comical notion. And leaving was something I couldn't do, at least not yet.

My real dad had died when I was eleven, and Tyler had been with us for six years now, arriving a little more than a year after Mom was widowed. I say us, but he really was only with "us" for a bit more than five years. My mom died six months ago. She had been sick for some time before she died, and I think she understood Tyler's interest in me before she went. But by then she was too far gone to do anything about it. She seemed to be hanging on mostly to be there until I got old enough to leave the house and go on my own.

My real dad's death and her own quick decline there at the end had bollixed up that idea, though. I'd worshipped my real dad, and his death had been a real blow to me. I just shut my life down for nearly a full year though—and that included school work. So, I was set back a grade. And, so, when mom died, I was no more than a week past eighteen, but I had a year and a half more to go in high school. And what were almost Mom's last words to me stuck.

"Stick it out until you graduate high school, Chris," she'd said. "Promise me you'll get your high school. Then go in the service for a while or something. Get away from this. But promise me you'll get your high school in first. A man can't do much of anything without that diploma."

And so, I promised.

And the way it worked out with Tyler wasn't wham bang, either. It was gradual. He worked me. He seduced me. And he was smart. He waited until I was eighteen. And when he finally had me, there I was, an adult, and not able even to claim rape. And the longer I stayed, the less anyone would care what I let happen to me. They would have asked, "Why didn't you just walk?"

Well, I didn't walk, because I promised my mom I'd get in that last year and half of school, and I didn't have any other good options. I had no living family left, and I had no means really to live out on my own. I didn't mind the idea of signing up for the military—I was leaning toward the Navy—but it stuck in my mind that one thing my mom had asked me to promise to do was to get that high school diploma before leaving.

And, as I've said. Tyler was clever. And he took it slow so that by the time I really was over the edge, it was done.

It had started the day after I turned eighteen. Mom was in the other room, dying. She'd been to the hospital and was back, under Hospice care, to die at home. I was keyed up and confused and into self-denial and wanting to make it all go away—transport myself to some fantasy land—and because I was a teenager with raging hormones, that meant a flashlight and dirty magazine and beating myself off in the middle of the night.

Which was all fine, but Tyler found me that night, right after my eighteenth birthday. I was terrified and paralyzed in place when he found me. But he came into the room and was calm and sat down on the side of the bed and told me all sorts of mumbo-jumbo over how it was normal and understandable under the circumstances. And while he was talking and holding my attention, he had his hand on my cock. When I noticed and flinched and began to object, he shushed me, reminding me that Mom was just in the other bedroom and that, although what I was doing was normal and understandable, it wasn't something we wanted to worry her about.

"So, just lay back, and I'll take care of it."

And so I did. And he did. And I was surprised at how much different and better it felt when someone else did it.

Three days later, the night before Mom died, Tyler was back and sweet talked me into letting him take care of my fears and tensions again. And this time he ran his other hand over my body as he was slowly jacking my cock off.

When we came home from Mom's funeral, I was a basket case, and Tyler sent me to my room and told me to try to get some sleep. But I couldn't and I couldn't stop crying. And Tyler came into my room and sat on the bed and hugged me close and soothed me with his calm, soft voice—which was really something coming from such a big, muscular man—and with his hands patting and stroking me here and there. He had my cock out of the fly of my sleeping shorts before I knew it. And I was in such a state that I didn't care—in fact it was comforting. And this time he didn't relieve me with his hand. He did it with his mouth.

Mom was dead now and there was only Tyler. And he'd already given me a blow job. And I was already eighteen and had promised my mom I'd stick it out through high school. And not only wasn't I thinking too straight, but I was a teen with raging hormones and Tyler was giving me release and pleasure that, though I knew it was evil and not right, was overwhelmingly hard to resist.

Everything was fine during the day. Tyler was a coping single-parent dad by day. Fitting in getting me to school and being there during my ball games and other activities while still holding down his job. I took up more of the cleaning and cooking duties, but Tyler was hanging in there on those as well. And we said nothing during the day of what was happening at night. The dark covered all of our sins.

But he was coming to me more often at night now. And he cajoled me into taking head, and one night he introduced a dildo into the ritual as he was sucking my cock. The first time I just thought it was his thumb, which he had started strumming rim of my hole with while sucking me, but it wasn't—it was a dildo. And the second time I knew it wasn't a thumb—and that it hadn't stayed at the entrance. By the time he fucked me with his cock, he had me asking for it. And I was over eighteen, and with nowhere else to go.

And now it was four months later.

Tyler had just been to visit me the night before. But he was here, at the door, tonight, as well. I'd heard it. He'd had a video on out in the living room. A male porn film. He was standing at the door, breathing heavily and giving me a scary stare. He was stark naked and had a raging hard on. I was sitting on the floor, on the thick cushion I'd taken off the overstuffed chair in my room; my back to the bed; earphones in, with the music set to something I liked to listen to before I went to bed; and doing my last-minute homework. I already was in my sleeping shorts.

Tyler was on me like a flash, grabbing my wrists with his hands and pushing my arms back on the bed. His cock was assaulting my mouth, pushing my head back on the bed as well. And I was gagging and gasping as he face-fucked me.

Then he pulled me up on my feet and kicked the cushion out into the middle of room as he was stripping off my sleeping shorts. He pushed me down on my shoulder blades on the cushion and grabbed my hips in his hands, and pulled my pelvis up into his crotch and my hole onto his cock, and started fucking down into me with long, deep strokes, thrusting down with his cock, while he pulled my pelvis up into him. Pushing me down as he moved his hips back and then pulling me in again as he thrust forward.

He was fucking me with a fury as he'd never done before, and I hooked my legs on top of the flare of his butt and hung on for dear life, my soothing "go-to-bed" music still playing in my ear from the earphones.

Above the sound of the music, I could hear the sound of the sex. Grunting and groaning and moaning in harmony, but above that, a plaintive cry of "Oh, shit, oh yes, oh gawd yessss, Fuck ME!"

I was shocked—and scared—at the realization that it was my voice.

* * * *

By this time, Tyler wasn't the only one fucking me. By now, I knew what was done was done—and that I didn't mind it when I wasn't thinking real hard—and was thinking why should I give it away just to Tyler for free. I was scraping together whatever money I could to help my escape from here, which was coming within a year. I kept the money in an old can out in the rafters of the storage shed in the back yard.

I figured I knew where I would make some money off this. And I was right.

For years, Mr. Collins, a bachelor living in a house twice as large and tidy as ours just down the street from us, had been giving me the eye and trying to make friends with me when I walked past his house. I wasn't so dumb that I didn't know what his interest was—and there were whisperings going around the neighborhood and at school that bore this out.

All it took to get him to come out of the house was for me to stand out on the front walk by his white picket fence one day and look around like I had nothing better to do than stand there. Sure enough, it wasn't long before he sauntered out, acting like he had a reason to be on the move and "accidentally" noticing I was there and coming to the fence to greet me.

"Hi there, Chris," he called out in a chipper voice. "Great day, isn't it?"

"Yeah, yeah, it is," I answered. "Might rain tonight, though. The rains will be heavy this summer, they say."

Mr. Collins was trembling like a Chihuahua on speed at this string of words from me. It was more in total that I'd ever said to him in all the years he'd been living in the neighborhood. He literally wagged his tail as he came out to the fence, obviously thrilled that I was still standing there.

"Yes, it's good for the flowers, though."

"Nice flowers," I said. "And you got a gardener to take real good care of them, I see." I was searching for words. The gardener was kneeling at the rose bed that lined the front porch of the house. He was facing away from us, an Hispanic, I guessed, maybe in his thirties. An outdoor worker. I wondered if he could hear us—and if he could understand English if he could.

"I try to keep the grounds up," Mr. Collins said, his voice full of pride. "Say, I was real sorry to hear about your mother. I—"

"Thanks. Thanks, Mr. Collins. You're a nice man for saying that." I turned my eyes on him and smiled.

He practically melted on the spot with pleasure. He had his hands on top of the fence and they were trembling. I put a hand up there too, trying to make it seem like a natural move, and I could see him shudder as our hands touched each other.

"Nice house too. Real nice house. Big. Bet you have lots of rooms in there. Bet you have some nice things in there."

"Would you like to see inside sometime?" Mr. Collins asked. His voice sounded so hopeful that I felt kind of sorry for him.

"I'm not doing much of anything now," I said. I tried to keep my voice low, because I could see that the gardener had turned his head toward us—that maybe he was listening to us.

I thought that Mr. Collins was going to melt down to a puddle on the spot at the prospect of getting me in the house.

The gardener looked up from the rose garden as we passed and gave me a tentative little smile. I wondered if he figured any of this out. But then I didn't care. He was just a gardener.

"How's school and the baseball going, Chris?" Mr. Collins asked me as we entered the foyer. I walked right on into the living room, which showed that Mr. Collins made a whole heap more money that my stepdad did. "I've always been interested in how the kids of the neighborhood were doing."

"Yeah, I know you have, Mr. Collins. I've seen how you watched me over the years. Well, I'm here now. And I'm over eighteen."

He turned his head toward where I was standing in the living room, surprised by what I said and by the hard tone I'd taken when I said it. And there I was, standing in the middle of his living room, with my fly open and my dong hanging out and cupped in the palm of my hand. I was kind of proud of my cock, and Mr. Collins seemed pretty impressed too. He went to his knees with a loud moan and began sucking my cock in a way that assured me that, as suspected, I probably wasn't the first neighborhood boy who had visited this house.

We were naked on his bed with him stretched out behind me and stroking his cock inside me from the rear as I propped my knee up on the bed to give him better access when I told him what the deal was: "$15 for you to suck me; $25 if I suck you. $50 for a fuck; $60 for the whole package."

He didn't object and signed up for the next visit to be on my way home from school three days hence. My stepdad didn't get home from work for nearly three hours after my school finished for the day.

The gardener was in the front garden the next day I visited Mr. Collins, and he turned his head and gave me a little smile again when I reached the stairs to the porch and started climbing. I instinctive smiled back, a little nervous because he was there, and because I couldn't think of a plausible reason to be approaching Mr. Collins's house by myself if the gardener asked. But he didn't ask.

The door was slightly ajar when I got to it, and I heard a faraway voice call out from upstairs. "Come on in. It's open. I'm upstairs."

I went in and began to climb the stairs. Half way up I stopped dead in my tracks and let out a "Holy shit." I began to turn to flee the house, when Mr. Collins said probably the only thing that kept me there.

"$75. I'll give you $75. And you won't be doing anything special or different. This is for me. This is to make it more interesting for me."

I turned back and looked up at him again. He was wearing women's lingerie. A black lace bra, with matching panties and black mesh stockings and black stiletto heels. He also had on a red-haired wig, and his face was made up like a baby doll, a mean slash of shiny, deep-red lipstick across his mouth. He was talking in a funny, high voice like he was playing some sort of game. And I guessed it was pretty obvious that he was.

"It's no different for you, honey," he repeated. "It's just me. It's just what I like. $75, OK?"

He didn't look all that bad as a woman. Younger even. And he wasn't fat; he had good muscle tone and firm arms and legs. A flat belly and a nipped-in waist.

If I closed my eyes. . . . And it wasn't like I had to get it up. He said it would be no different. And he had topped me earlier, although for the money, I was willing to try going either way.

I started walking up the stairs again, and as we crossed the hall to the master bedroom, I was impressed on how well he walked in the heels. I guessed he'd done this a lot.

"Please take your clothes off and sit on the side of the bed," he said.

I watched myself—and him/her in the mirrors as I stripped. That was the thing I'd remembered the most about his bedroom from the other day. The mirrors. He had them everywhere. It had been arousing to me to see myself being fucked no matter how I turned my head. I assumed that the mirrors were there because he found it amusing as well. He wasn't bad looking for an old guy and was a good cocksman—or so I thought, only having Tyler to compare him with. But I thought Tyler must be good at it as much as he was fucking me—and I knew he and my mom really went at it before she got too sick to enjoy it. And, surprising, Collins was as good at it as Tyler was, although he must be at least ten years older than Tyler.

We didn't do it just like we had the first time. This time Mr. Collins spent more time in setting it up—and he had an extra fetish thing going with the lipstick. The color was something that rubbed off easily. Collins made a point of paying attention to nearly every inch of my body with his lips, and I could see that the lipstick was rubbing off on my skin. And he got up every once in a while and renewed it, so that it was always leaving fresh lip marks.

I found quickly that the panties had a slit in them in front, so that his cock came out without having to remove the panties. I sucked him and then he sucked me, being careful to leave distinctive lip-shaped red markings on my cock. He followed this up with lip attention to the rest of my body, and then he had me lay on my back on the edge of the bed, and he came between my thighs and fucked me to mutual ejaculations while we watched ourselves and each other in the mirrors. Although I had been worried about being able to get it up, the setting was so exotic and he was such an expert cocksman that I didn't have any trouble at all. The mirrors helped too.

Afterward, Mr. Collins made me stand in front of a full-length mirror and he took photos of the artwork he'd done on my body with his ruby-red lips before he let me shower and gave me four twenties and told me to keep the change.


The Geek



The characters in this story are real. The events are fictional. I wrote it so my faithful reader and critic, S.E., would know something of my background.

*

When I was in High School, I was labeled as being a Geek. In 1954 that word had a completely different meaning than it does today. There was no such thing as personal computers. The Internet and e-mail were not even in our vocabulary yet. We didn't have electronic anything except a black and white TV. No, Geeks in my youth were guys who were academically gifted but socially impaired. I wore horn-rimmed glasses, carried at least four pens in my shirt pocket, wore white socks and knew how to use a slide rule. I never had enough nerve to ask a girl out on a date. I didn't have a car or any real spending money anyway. I had a paper route but nearly every nickel l I earned went into my model railroad in the basement. 

What I knew about girls and sex would fit in a thimble and still have room for your thumb. In our school, if a girl got pregnant, she was considered to be from a lower class of society and she would disappear from school and would never be seen again by any of us. Pornography simply didn't exist in our town. Once I saw an "eight pager", a small stapled collection of comic strips showing all sorts of sex by comic characters. The girlie magazines in the cigar store in the train station only had women in bathing suits and nothing less. 

My friends and I were basically terrified of girls. We thought they considered sex as a horrible duty a woman had to perform. If an unmarried woman had sex, she was a whore. We knew where babies came from and had a vague idea of how things got started. The movies we saw had married couples sleeping in twin beds with a night stand between them. In the early 1950s a movie came out, "The Moon Is Blue" which had a scandalous scene showing a pregnant woman. She was fully clothed, mind you, but she was pregnant. The movie could not be shown in our town but since the drive-in theater was outside the jurisdiction of the city forces for the common good, we got to see it. Oh, we went to dances where we stood in a knot in one corner of the gym, not asking a girl to dance because 1. We didn't know how and 2. We were terrified of rejection.

Imagine then, if you will, the effect Miss B___ had on us naïve boys. She was an instructor at the local liberal arts college. Our school system had received a grant to offer a class in advanced English composition for those seniors who intended to go to college. Miss B___ came over every day from the college and taught this class during the last period of the day. I most definitely intended to go to the state university so I signed up for the class. 

All the teachers in our high school were older people, in their forties and fifties. Miss B___ was probably in her early twenties. She was a tall woman, rather slender and wore very nondescript clothing. She showed up in plain cotton dresses and occasionally a blouse and skirt but never slacks. It was obvious to us super intelligent geeks that she was single because she didn't have a wedding ring and we all called her Miss. (We were so good at deduction.) I can say with some assurance that all of the guys in the class had countless wet dreams and licentious thoughts about this woman. When we jacked off in the privacy of our bathrooms or bedrooms at home, we were dreaming about movie actresses, and now a certain English teacher..

The jocks and cheerleaders in the class signed up because it was an easy course and if you got a C, you could skip a semester of freshman English in college. But I took the material seriously and worked very hard on my essays and other assignments. It became very clear to my razor sharp mind that I was the best and brightest in the class. I sat in the front row and hung on each of Miss B___'s words. I could tell that she liked me best. (God, how could someone be so stupid as I was?)

One day, towards the end of the school year when everyone was goofing off, knowing that they would graduate no matter what they did in class, (except me, of course), Miss B___ came into the class looking very tired. When class was over and everyone bolted for the door, I hung back. I walked up to her, stuffed full of self-importance, and said,

"Miss B___, you look a little tired. Are you OK?"

"Well David, she answered, I am a little worn out. This running back and forth from the campus to this school is beginning to get to me. I have a ton of essays from my college classes to grade along with all the work from this class. Everything has to be done by next Monday. I've been staying up late trying to get it all done."

"Well, gosh, I said, is there anything I can do to help?"

She looked at me for the first time in a different way. It was almost as though I were a peer, a real adult talking to another. For a moment I thought I had gone too far, spoken in too familiar a fashion. Then she pulled a large sheaf of composition books out of her book bag.

"All of these essays were written by freshmen English students at the college. They all have to be marked up for grammar and spelling and then for content and style. It's going to take me most of the weekend to do them and I still have all of the work from this class."

I saw my opportunity and jumped in with trembling knees.

"Maybe I could do the grammar and spelling for you and then all you would have to correct is the content."

She looked at me for a second.

"You know, you probably could do as good a job at that as I could. Maybe I could pay you, say 25 cents each. Could you have them done by Sunday afternoon? That way, I could have them done by Monday morning."

"Oh gosh, you don't have to pay me. I'd be glad to do it. I don't have anything else to do this weekend. Sure, I'll do it." 

I was so excited I nearly peed in my pants. An adult teacher actually asked me to do some of her work! I couldn't believe my good fortune.

I took the pile of compositions along with my books, dumped them in the basket of my bicycle and headed home. I dashed up to my room and slammed the door. I plunged into the work, skipping supper, ignoring the angry shouts from my parents and snide comments from my sister. I toiled into the night on Friday. After a short and fitful sleep, I spent nearly all of Saturday correcting the horrible spelling and atrocious grammar of the college freshmen. My superiority complex soared to new heights. I was only eighteen and I was smarter than the college kids. On top of that, their teacher asked me to correct their pitiful compositions.!

I could not escape Sunday school and church or the family dinner afterwards. So after that I called Miss B___ on the phone to tell her that the compositions were done. But to my dismay, she did not answer the phone. Being the resourceful lad that I was, I looked up her name in the phone book and found "J. B___", 312 Parkway Drive. It had to be her, I told myself.

I jumped on my bicycle and headed out. I found the house. I knew her car, a 1941 pea green Hudson two door, in the driveway. I was flushed with pride. I stood up straight on her doorstep and rang the bell. I tried desperately to control my labored breathing.

Miss B__ came to the door and took away what little breath I had left. She was wearing a tight white short sleeve sweater and pink shorts. I suddenly realized that she had breasts! They weren't huge but they hung on her chest like.....the only thought that came to my overloaded brain was the water balloons we used to throw at each other on a hot summer day.

"Oh, David, it's you."

"I finished the compositions, Miss B___." I managed to mumble.

I tried to hand them to her but she backed away and said,

"Oh, please come in. I need to pay you. You have no idea what a relief this is to have them corrected."

"No, no, you don't have to pay me. I was glad to do it. It didn't take long at all," I lied.

"Well then, come in for a minute. Would you like a Coke?"

"A Coke would be fine, " I said as I gained a little confidence. The house was very sparsely furnished. A small couch, a seedy looking easy chair, a radio, some old bookcases filled with famous authors and few pictures on the walls made up the total décor. Miss B___ brought me a bottle of soda and had a bottle beer for herself. I was shocked! An English teacher drinking beer, on a Sunday? I tried to hide my surprise and sat in the old chair. She sat on the couch and crossed her legs. I stared like I had never seen a woman before, dressed this way. She smiled at me. I think she knew that I was very nervous. She glanced through a couple of the essays which I had marked up with red pencil. 

"You do good work, David. This is going to be a big help to have this all done. So tell me, David, have you picked out a major for college?"

"Oh, I stammered, I guess maybe I'll try engineering or chemistry or something. I don't know." 

I was so tongue tied, I could hardly get the words out. I was blatantly staring at her boobs and her legs. I could not maintain eye contact. I gulped my Coke. The carbonation caused me to choke and cough.

"You better slow down, David," she laughed and smiled at my discomfort.

"Tell me something. Do you have a girl friend?"

This question so shocked me that I snorted Coke out of my nose! I was so embarrassed.

"No, I......that is....well I never....." was all I could say.

She didn't laugh at me this time. She handed me a napkin to wipe my face.

"David, come over here and sit next to me. I think we need to have a little chat."

Like an obedient lap dog I got up and walked over to the couch and sat next to her, barely breathing.

"David, she said, you are a very smart guy. I could tell that from the very first day I had you in class. You are a very fast learner and by now, you must have figured out that you are the best student in the class. But when it comes to social skills, especially dealing with girls, you are still in grade school. You're not bad looking but you are so shy and inept when it comes to interacting with the opposite sex, I fear that you are going to enter college a complete neophyte. Doesn't that scare you just a little?"

My heart was pounding and sinking at the same time. She described me perfectly but her assessment hit a real sore spot with me. I knew I was a klutz with the girls but I thought I was just an ugly, gangly brainiac and no self-respecting girl would want to have anything to do with me. 

I was so close to Miss B___ that I could smell a faint whiff of perfume. That, combined with the white sweater, pink shorts and closest proximity I had ever experienced with a mature woman, other than my mother, caused my brain to experience a severe overload. I just sat there like a scared church mouse staring into the eyes of snake about to swallow it. 

"Look, David" I'm not trying to embarrass you but if you're going to go to a big university, away from home and your friends, you have to build up a little confidence and learn to be at ease with girls. Don't you agree?"

"I guess so....I mean....what should I do? I don't really know any girls that well and.....I have never......you know....."

"David, she said with a very warm smile and she took my hands in hers, I have watched you staring at my breasts ever since you walked in the front door. Have you ever seen or touched a woman's breasts?"

"Uh, well......I....that is....well....no I never....." I was so unnerved, I could hardly speak.

Suddenly, she crossed her arms, grabbed the hem of her sweater and whipped it off. For the first time in my life, I saw a real brassier and the tops of real breasts. I must have gawked with my mouth open. She smiled again and reached behind her and unhooked the bra. There they were! Two breasts complete with little brown nipples. Nothing in the National Geographic magazines could compare with this!

"See, David, they won't bite you. Go ahead and touch them if you want to."

If I wanted to?!!!! I gingerly reached up and touched her breasts with my finger tips.

"No, no, silly, grab them and squeeze them. Learn what they feel like."

I began to follow orders. She closed her eyes and leaned back on the couch, with her arms over her head. She gave a deep sigh.

"That's good. David, keep doing it," she moaned.

I continued my tactile exploration of her breasts. I leaned closer to look at her nipples. I felt like my brain was expanding. My pulse was pounding and suddenly, I felt an erection moving in my pants.

"Go ahead, kiss them, suck on them, bite them a little," she said, not opening her eyes.

Blindly I followed her instructions and did as I was told. The more I kissed and sucked on her nipples the more she began to moan. All the previous thoughts I had ever had about women not liking sex with men went flying out of my poor overworked brain. Wherever did such stupid thoughts originate? Nothing was ever said in Health class about sucking on a woman's breasts because she would like it!

Suddenly, she opened her eyes and lowered her arms.

"So, David, what do you think? Can you see what you've been missing?"

I was mute. I merely nodded.

"Would you like to see more?" she asked with a slight smile.

Again, all I could do was nod. She stood up and undid the buttons on her shorts. They dropped to the floor and I got my first view of a pair of panties stretched over her pelvis with a little bulge in the center. 

A few blond hairs peeked out from seams at the center. Miss B___ slowly pushed the white panties down to her knees and they fell to the floor. There, in front of my face, flushed with embarrassment, was the first woman's crotch I had ever seen. The room seemed very warm all of a sudden. I began to sweat. My hands felt clammy.

"You see, David, this is what all the fuss is about. This is a vagina. This is what men dream about, isn't it? Do you dream about pushing your penis into a vagina like this? Do you masturbate and think about doing it to a woman? You can tell me, David. No one is going to know what is happening here today. Go ahead, touch it. Put your finger right in the middle."

I was on auto pilot by now. If she had told me to climb up on the roof and jump off, I would have done it without question. I tentatively put my finger in the center of her cunt. It was hot and wet! I snatched my finger back as though I had been burned.

"Don't be afraid. Any girl would love to have you work your fingers in her pussy."

'Pussy'? I wondered. Is that what girls call it?

Once again I poked her. This time my finger slid further inside. I began to move it up and down a little, in and out. Once again Miss B___ closed her eyes and began to moan.

"That's good. Keep doing that. Move your fingers up to the top. Feel that little bump there. That's my clitoris. Keep rubbing that. Oh yes, keep.......keep....."

He voice began to fade away. She placed her hands on my shoulders. She began to thrust herself onto my hand. Soon I had three fingers inside her. The sweat was pouring off my face. My breathing was as labored as hers. Then came the biggest shock of all.

"David, stick your tongue in there. Lick it, wiggle your tongue in my pussy," she cried out.

Stick my tongue in her....thing? The very idea was so repulsive to me I withdrew my fingers. My fingers were soaked with her juices. I could not believe what I just heard.

"Please, David, don't leave me like this." She grabbed my shoulders and pulled my face right into her bush. She lifted one leg and placed it next to mine on the couch. 

"Do it David, tongue me, please."

She grabbed my head and suddenly my nose was jammed into her slit. By this time I was acting like a robot. I did as she told me and stuck out my tongue. The taste was musky and sharp. She moved my head up and down until I got the message and began to work my tongue into her as far as I could. I lapped upward and caught the little knob at the top. She cried out and pulled me in even harder. She jammed her pelvis into my face again and again as I worked my tongue any which way I could. This went on for a few minutes when she stiffened up and doubled over on top of my head with a sharp cry. She held my face in her bush such that it was hard to breath but I sat the on the couch, motionless until she decided to release her grip. I fell back on the sofa, my face covered with her slime. Miss B__ slowly slipped to the floor, gasping for breath. I thought I had hurt her and was about to apologize.

"Oh, David, that was wonderful. I know those girls at the university are in for a real treat. I was right. You are a very fast learner. Oh, look at you! You look like you've been punched in the stomach! Breathe, my friend, breathe. You just gave this old girl a wonderful orgasm!"

With that she laid back on the floor and continued her heavy breathing. For myself, I was slowly beginning to return to reality. I took my handkerchief and wiped my face off. I stared at the naked woman lying in the floor in front of me. My erection was gone. My under shorts were wet. I had ejaculated in my pants and didn't even know it until now. I stared in disbelief at what I once thought was a prim and proper English teacher but was in fact a wanton slut! (I once heard my dad use that expression in describing my mom's sister.)

She rose from the floor and walked quickly to the back of the house. She returned wearing a robe that had printed dragons all over it.

"My brother is in the Army. He is in occupied Japan and he sent me this. Isn't it cute?"

"Um,...yes, it's very nice."

Miss B___ sat down next to me again. She placed one arm around my shoulder.

"David, you have just had but one experience with a willing woman. There is so much more I could teach you. Do you think you could keep our little secret long enough for me to show you what else you need to know?"

"Miss B___," I stammered, I...."

"Jane, she said, my first name is Jane. Call me Jane, David."

"Uh Miss, I mean Jane, that was such a .....a.....nice.....oh, ...I mean I liked it but... I think I messed up my pants and I....."

I was so embarrassed that I had a wet spot in the crotch of my pants that I could not answer her question.

She looked down at my pants.

"It sure looks like you did come in your pants. Here, take them off and I'll run them through the washer."

"No, I couldn't do that. I have to get home. I....."

"Tell you what, she said. We'll wash down just that part of your pants and I'll get out the steam iron and that will dry out the wet spot in no time."

(Nobody that I knew had an automatic washer and dryer in 1954. They probably existed but not in my world.)

I got up and turned my back to Jane. I lowered my pants and took them off, handing them to her without even looking at her. I was so worried that she might see the wet spot on my white briefs. (Today I cringe when I think about it. I had just sucked a woman to an orgasm and was still afraid to show her the bulge in my tighty whites!) Her next words came to me like a thunder clap.

"You need to take off your shorts too, David. They are just as wet if not more so."

I had never been naked in front of a woman. The fact that she had just been naked in front of me and that I had stuck my tongue in her cunt was completely lost in my clouded brain. But, I dutifully pulled them off and handed them to her. She walked out of the room and I sat back down on the couch, my hands over my cock. I sat there for a few minutes, not knowing what to do next. Idly, I began to fondle myself. That was something I did just about any time I could at this age. Then, Jane walked back into the room and I quickly covered up again.

"David, David, she said, slowly shaking her head. What am I going to do with you? Now, take your hands away and let me see what you're hiding. After all, you've seen nearly everything I have. It's only fair that I get to see you."




The Geek



Jerry turned away from the computer desk, looked over at Mrs. Wilson, and said, "I think I've got all the problems sorted out. You sure had made a mess of this thing. I thought there for a while that I'd have to format it and reload Windows. Is there anything else you need for me to do?"

Mary Wilson had been sitting on the side of her bed, watching the tall thin young man as he worked on her computer. A faint smile played around the corners of her mouth as he asked the question. The sexual scenes that had been running rampant through her mind as he worked would have probably scared the poor boy to death, if she were to verbalize them. 

The rumors around the neighborhood coffee clutches, had been running wild for the last few months, about the young computer geek that was hung like a horse and could eat pussy with the best of them. The problem was how to find out the truth in the rumors, without making a fool of herself. 

"I'm sorry to make it so hard on you, but I know nearly nothing about the workings of that thing. I turn it on and use it. That is, if it feels like cooperating." She replied to cover her own nervousness and to give herself time to think.

"Computers are easy. All you need to do is to learn how they operate. What each part of the system does and how it's interconnected with the rest of the system. What are you having problems with?" Jerry asked.

Sensing an opening that might lead to where she wanted to go, she said, "Those file and folder thingies, have me all confused. I've tried to sort my e-mails and pictures out. You know, put them in some kind of order but I can't seem to get things moved to where I want them."

Jerry chuckled and said, "That's no problem. Here let me show you how to do that. First you have to make the folders that you want and then you drag the e-mail or picture over to the right folder." Jerry's hands were on the mouse and keyboard as he was speaking. 

"Whoa." Mary said with a soft chuckle. "Slow down and let me see what you're doing." 

She got off the bed, moved over beside the boy, and rested her hand on his left shoulder as she bent over. Her left breast was pressed tightly against the back of his right shoulder. The low cut blouse she had on gaped open. If he turned his head, he would have an excellent view of her bare right breast. That should get the ball rolling, she thought with a grin coming to her face. 

"Now, go slowly, so I can figure it out as you do it. Let's start with the pictures in the My Pictures section of My Documents. It all one big jumble and I can't find anything."

Jerry clicked on My Documents and then on My Pictures. Mary held her breath as he clicked on View and changed it from list to Thumbnails. Her family pictures were on there but there were also some pictures that she had taken as she had played in front of the web cam. There was also a set of pictures that her husband had taken of her, when they had been on vacation in Mexico. They had spent a day on an isolated beach and she had been able to run around completely naked. The warm sun and cool breeze off the ocean had had her hornier than hell and she had shown it.

As the thumbnails filled in, she felt Jerry stiffen and then relax. "Are you sure you want me to see these?" He asked softly.

Mary laughed nervously and replied, "Well, it's a little late now. You wouldn't say anything to anyone, would you?" She asked softly.

"No way, I know when to keep my mouth shut." Jerry said, turning his head to look at her. She noticed the slight pause as his eyes went across the front of her blouse. They paused a little longer as he turned back to the computer screen.

Mary felt herself getting even wetter. Her little g-string had already been sopping from her earlier daydreaming but now there was a literal flood as this boy looked at her breast. It made her feel so raunchy. She was nearly old enough to be his mother, if the truth were known, but right now her interest was anything but motherly.

"Uh, what do you want to move and what name would you want on the folder?" Jerry asked a little hesitantly.

"Lets start with the Mexico vacation pictures." Mary said. "Mexico vacation is a good name for the folder."

Jerry showed her how to make a folder, name it, and then how to drag and drop the pictures into it. As Mary showed him which pictures to move, he wished he could open a few of the thumbnails and look at them closer. He had known that Mrs. Wilson was a beautiful woman but hadn't had any idea of how well she was built. Damn, she was gorgeous, he thought as he felt his manhood harden and strain against the leg of his shorts.

Mary watched Jerry closely and tried to follow what he was doing but kept getting distracted by the growing bulge in the left leg of his shorts. When it jerked and twitched it looked even larger. My God, that thing couldn't be real, she thought to herself. 

She grinned as a thought crossed her mind. "Ok, lets switch places so I can try it." She said quickly before she could change her mind.

Jerry froze and glanced up at her for a second, a deep blush covering his face up to his hairline. "Uh, let me show you how to move the e-mails first." He stammered.

Mary almost laughed but held herself in check as she replied, "It works the same as the pictures, right. Then I should be able to do it the same way you did it." 

She moved to the side, giving him room to get up. As she straightened, she felt the thin material of the blouse slide across her hard nipples, a tingle running from them straight down to her pussy. She felt herself shiver slightly. 

When he didn't move, she said, "Come on, let me in there before I forget."

Slowly Jerry stood up, turning away from her as he did. He stood with his back to her, waiting for her to sit down. He figured when she did, he could move behind her and she wouldn't see his major hard on. Mary stood there undecided for a second and then sat down in the chair. 

As he moved around behind her, she suddenly stood up and turned toward the bed, saying, "Oh, my glasses." She picked them up and turned back to him. He had no place to hide and blushed a deep red again as Mary's eyes dropped to the tent in the front of his shorts. 

"Oh my!" Mary whispered softly, her hand moving slowly out to brush her fingers over the straining material of the shorts. "I think you liked my pictures." She whispered softly, glancing up at Jerry's face. 

The blush got even deeper as he stammered, "You're a very beautiful lady. What's not to like?"

Mary closed her fingers around the hard hot shaft and marveled at its thickness. "How would you like to see the real thing, not just a picture?" Mary found herself asking.

Jerry's eyes got wide as he nodded his head sharply. Then he took a step back, pulling out of her grasp, and shook his head. "I better not, I don't want any trouble with your husband or anything." He said slowly.

"I wasn't planning on telling him." Mary whispered as she reached up to unbutton her blouse. "It'll be our little secret." She said as she slipped the blouse off her shoulders. 

Jerry's eyes dropped to stare at her breasts. Mary smiled as she thought that she might be twice his age but there was nothing wrong with her body. She was five six in her stockings and slender. Her breasts look even larger for that reason. They were only a thirty-six C but were still firm and high on her chest. She rolled her shoulders, making them sway slightly. Her nipples were so hard that they hurt. She would probably cum as soon as he sucked on them, she realized suddenly. She was just that turned on.

Jerry moved slowly forward, his eyes still locked on her breasts. His long slender fingers came up slowly, almost shyly, to gently brushed across one nipple and then the other. Mary shivered and moaned softly, deep in her throat. "They are beautiful." Jerry whispered softly as he ran his fingertips slowly and very lightly over her breasts. 

Mary shivered from his soft tickling, teasing touch, and the sudden surge of heat between her thighs. Jerry leaned over and flicked one nipple with the tip of his tongue, which brought a loud groaning moan from Mary as an orgasm washed through her body. He flicked the other nipple and then sucked it into his hot mouth. Mary cried out sharply as the orgasm shot up to a higher plain. She had to grab onto him before she fell. As it was, she ended up sitting on the edge of the bed, but only with his help.

He held onto her for a moment or two and then asked, "Are you alright?"

Mary nodded her head and then sighed deeply, before she replied, "Oh yeah, I'm just fine. That orgasm just took me by surprise." When Jerry looked at her questioningly, she chuckled and added, "It's been a while since I had one and that one, snuck up on me."

Still looking puzzled, Jerry asked, "Your married, why would it.... I mean, you and your husband can have sex all the time so why...." Jerry stalled out, not sure how to ask, what he wanted to know.

Mary laughed and shook her head. "Being married has nothing to do with sex, sometimes. This is my room and my husband's is down at the end of the hall. He sleeps there and I sleep here; never the twain shall meet or is that meat. It's a long boring story, believe me." 

Now Jerry looked even more confused. "I can't believe that. You're such a beautiful lady. How could he not sleep with you? Is he sick or crazy, or something?" He asked sharply.

Mary laughed again and shook her head. "No, he's not sick. The crazy part I'm not sure about anymore and the something, I know more about than I want to." She frowned a second and added, "He has a young girlfriend that takes care of his needs and wants, I'm just the society show piece."

"But the vacation pictures, you both seemed to be into each other so much." Jerry said slowly. "I could see the love in the way you looked at each other."

Mary shrugged and said, "That was a few years ago, before he met his little chickadee and I got demoted to the second bedroom." There was a note of deep sadness in her voice. 

Jerry sat down on the bed next to Mary and put his arms around her, hugging her gently. "That ain't right." He whispered softly into her hair. "That ain't right at all."

"Right or wrong, that's the way it is." Mary whispered back.

"Why don't you leave him if he's fooling around on you?" Jerry asked softly and then added, "You deserve much better than that." 

Mary laughed a short harsh laugh and replied, "And go where and do what? I've been married since I was eighteen and fresh out of high school. I've never had a job in my life, not to mention a bank account or a checkbook of my own. I wouldn't have a chance in hell of making it alone and it scares me to death to even think about it. He knows that, so he does, as he wants. He has me right where he wants me." Mary felt the tears welling up. 

Suddenly, she turned her head and kissed the boy. Boy in age, he might be, but he could kiss better than her husband ever had. She wondered briefly who had taught him and then gave in to the kiss and let it sweep her away. 

When he laid her back on the bed and wrapped his leg over hers, she could feel the hard heat of his manhood pressed to her thigh. His thigh was pressed tightly against her sex and she knew he could feel her heat. She felt a moment of panic and then surrendered to the feelings of his leg rubbing against her sex and his lips on hers. 

Jerry suddenly broke the kiss and sat up, pulling his tee shirt off over his head. Mary's eyes roamed over his slender body, hairless, with well defined muscles. Not the bulging kind but the long lean look of a swimmer. When he stood up and slipped his shorts off, Mary heard herself gasp. She had never seen anything so huge. That was the only word her mind could find to fit his size. She was no expert but my God, what a dick. This was only the second one she had ever seen, besides her husbands. The other had been a one night stand over a year earlier and it didn't even compare with this.

Mary's train of thought was interrupted by Jerry's fingers on the snap at the top of her shorts. Another shot of fear ran through her as he undid the shorts and slowly pulled them down off her hips. Unconsciously, she lifted her hips to make it easier for the shorts to come off. She felt cool air on her sex and realized that her g-string was also off. A shiver of excitement ran up and down her body as he stood there looking at her. His eyes roaming up and down her body freely.

Slowly Jerry went to his knees beside the bed and leaned over to lick along each side of the vee of hair on her mound. Mary heard herself whispered, "No, please don't." Even as she felt her feet rise to the edge of the bed and her hips rose as a moan started deep in her chest. 

His long slender hands slipped under her ass cheeks and he held her up as his tongue found her fiery liquid center. Then it was all shooting stars and bright sparklers as she exploded into a million pieces. No one had ever done this to her and she was cumming her brains out as his long tongue worked into places no one had ever been before.

She slowly came back to earth and her senses, to find Jerry still kneeling between her feet. When he saw her eyes open, he asked, "Please don't, what?" 

Mary shivered and grinned crookedly as he leaned in and took a lick up the center of her slit. She gasped loudly as his tongue bumped over her clit. "You can't be talking about that." He whispered. 

Then he took another lick and Mary moaned loudly, her hands finding the sides of his head. He paused at the top of her slit and teased her clit. Mary's hips jerked and jumped with every flick of his deft tongue. Mary was almost to the point of screaming, when he suddenly sucked her clit between his lips and rolled his tongue over and around the swollen bud. She lost her voice and her breath as another orgasm of world shattering proportions washed through her body.

*****

When Mary once again came to her senses, Jerry was lying on the bed next to her, cuddling her, and slowly stroking her back. "Welcome back." He whispered softly, a grin on his face. 

She could only nod and lick her dry lips. "I think you need a drink of water." He whispered and then got up and went into the bathroom. 

He reappeared a moment later with a glass. "Here, sit up." He said extending the glass toward her. 

Mary sat up slowly and took the glass as he crawled back onto the bed and sat there watching her. She drank nearly the whole thing and then sat the glass on the nightstand. Slowly, she lay back down and took a long deep shuddery breath. She blew it out softly and whispered, "Wow! I never knew what I was missing." 

When Jerry looked at her questioningly, she chuckled and shook her head. "It's one of those live and learn deals. I would never let anyone do that to me before and now I'm finding out what I've missed."

Jerry looked at her with an amazed look on his face. "Never?" He asked, almost in awe. 

When she chuckled and nodded, he blinked and whispered, "Well, I'll be damned, I would never have believed that if someone had told me, but after seeing your reaction...." He let the sentence trail off as he lay down beside Mary and cuddled up next to her.  

Mary sighed and rolled over to cuddle up even closer. They held each other for a long while, just their hands moving slowly and gently over each others backs and hips. 

When Jerry's hand dipped down to caress her ass, Mary raised her head from his chest and looked up at him. He moved closer and kissed her softly, sweetly, his hand still stroking and caressing her ass. When he dipped a finger into the crack of her ass and teased her asshole, she moaned softly and kissed him with a new eagerness, passion building once again. 

The finger moved lower to tease her hot wet opening and Mary moaned louder and worked her hips back and forth, wanting him to slip it into her. He didn't though; he just kept on teasing her, driving her farther and farther up the wall of passion.

With a whimper of passion mixed with frustration, Mary finally reached down between them and wrapped her fingers around his manhood. Then she gasped as she realized that she could just barely touch her fingertip to her thumb. Then he was rolling her over on top. She spread her legs to straddle his hips, feeling his manhood pressing along the length of her slit. She let go of it and half sat up, only to feel it slip deeper into her slit as she moved her hips slowly back and forth.

She placed her hands on his chest for balance and rubbed herself along his length. "Oh my God!" She whispered as she felt her clit being rubbed so deliciously. 

She glanced at Jerry's face and whispered, "I going to cum and rather quickly." Was all that she got out before she did just that. Her body jerked, shivered, and shook through a long drawn out orgasm or maybe it was many small ones all linked together, she never was sure about which it was.

*****

Mary returned to this time and space to find her head on Jerry's chest and him rubbing her back, slowly, and sensuously. She sighed deeply and whispered, "I'm going to kill myself yet."

Jerry chuckled and shook his head. "I don't think so. Make up for lost time yes, but not die." He whispered back.

Mary laughed and rolled over to lay flat on her back on the bed. "Oh I'm doing that alright, I haven't had this many orgasm since my wedding night." She paused a second and then added, "Come to think of it, I've had more today than I've had throughout most of my marriage. Now, there's a sad thought."

Jerry rolled over onto his side and propped his head up on his fist, looking at her with a big grin on his face, he whispered, "We haven't even reached the main event yet." 

Mary's head snapped over in his direction and then her eyes dropped to his huge member. "Uh...." She started and then let the sentence die as she knew she would, if he tried to stick that thing in her underused pussy. She took a deep breath and whispered, "That's going to take some work, to say the least."

Jerry laughed and whispered back, "I have patience and we could have all the time in the world."

Mary's eyes snapped up to his face at the serious note in his voice. The voice of a man, not a young boy. "What do you mean by that?" She asked softly, a shiver running up her back. She wasn't sure if it was fear or what.

"I mean that I have great mental and physical control and patience for someone my age. I may be only twenty physically, but mentally I'm far older. As far as time goes, all you have to do is make up your mind that you really want to leave here. I have a place of my own, I know it's not much but I'm working on that. I can help you out with a job and all the rest, so there's no reason for you to stay here if you don't want to. I do own my own company and it's growing daily." He said slowly and softly. 

Mary realized that her mouth was hanging open and shut it quickly. "Uh...." She said and then took a deep breath, feeling disoriented and at a loss.

"I've been watching you for a long time and I like what I've seen and heard. I also know what you've heard around here about me. That was all fun and games but it's over, I've found what I was looking for." Jerry whispered.

Mary shivered again, only harder than before and then sat up, wrapping her arms around her legs and hugging herself. "But I'm...." She started and then stopped, glancing over at Jerry. 

Jerry smiled and then whispered, "Yeah, I know, you're old enough to be my mother. So what! Like I said, I'm a lot older mentally than physically and I find girls my age to be a bunch of giggling bores. I need someone who is my mental equal and knows about life and love. I need someone that can keep me in line and keep me heading in the right direction, not someone who's fumbling around as badly as I am. I'm going to be someone and I'm in a hurry to get there. I want you to come along for the ride and let's see where that leads us."




The Geek



Mary realized that he was serious and that her mouth was hanging open again. A little voice in the back of her head was yelling, "What are you waiting for." Her common sense was appalled. "But.... But.... Uh...." Mary stammered.

"There's no but about it. It's either or with no but to it." Jerry said. "We could make it an offer of a job and a little financial assistance to start with, if you need time to think about it, otherwise, pack a bag and let's get out of here. We can come back for the rest of your things later."

"What about love?" Mary heard herself asking.

"What about it? You thought you had it here, but found out you were wrong. Come with me and we'll start with a fresh slate and see where it leads us. Neither of us has to make any promises, but I will. I promise that no matter what happens between us, I will take care of you and help you all I can until you're on your feet. Other than that, I don't think either of us can make any other promises right this minute." Jerry said with feeling.

Mary was off the bed before she realized it. She froze and then turned slowly to look at Jerry, her mind going a mile a minute. He lay there looking back at her, waiting to see what she would do or say next. She took a deep, deep breath and then sat down at her computer. What she typed, didn't take long and then the printer hummed to life.

Then she stood up from the chair and turned around slowly, a big smile on her face as she moved over to the bed and crawled in on top of Jerry. She straddled his hips and settled her hot wet sex down over his long thick, hard dick. 

He started to say something but she covered his mouth and whispered, "There's nothing more to say, not about the future anyway. For now, we're going to take it one day at a time and right this minute, I'm going to take my life in my hands and see just how much of this damned thing I can stuff in my little pussy."

Mary grinned as she slid her hips back and forth, coating his shaft with her slippery juices. Once she had the bottom side done, she reached down and lifted him up until his dick was behind her ass, then she rubbed up and down that side. She took care not to touch her clit to him as much as possible. Even so, she was on a hair trigger by the time she raised his shaft to a vertical position and rubbed the head round her opening. 

With a loud moaning groan, she fitted the big head to her opening and slowly lowered her weight onto it. She heard Jerry moan loudly as the big head suddenly snapped through and entered her. Mary was cumming with rapid fire orgasms. Each time her hips jerked, she settled farther down on his shaft, and the next orgasm would assault her senses.

Somewhere along the way, Jerry came, which only drove Mary higher into orgasmic bliss and deeper down onto his manhood. Then she was on her back with Jerry moving slowly and gently between her legs. Mary's body went into overdrive as she lifted her hips to meet him thrust for thrust. The universe turned into one great big fireworks display, with them at the center.

*****

Several hours later, Mary pinned a note to her husband's door and then picked up two travel bags and joined Jerry on the stairs. She kissed him sweetly on the lips and said, "Lead on." Then she followed him down the stairs and out the front door. To where she didn't know, but it was going to be one hell of an adventure, that was for sure.

*****

The next day, Mary's husband came home to an empty house and found the note on his door. He tore open the envelope and read:

"You're little chickadee is welcome to you. I found me a younger playmate and I'm happily going to play house with him. Don't worry about my things, I may come by to get them, or then again, I might not. I see a much happier future before me than I've had in a long time.

PS: If I don't get around to coming for my things, stick them up your ass with the rest of your shit.

Your, no longer loving, soon to be ex-wife

Mary 



The Geek and the Ballerina



"Oh, shit!" cursed Stella. The word processor program had just crashed and shut itself down. Like an idiot she'd been working on her dissertation for five hours straight and hadn't sit Control-S even once. And now she'd lost everything.

Tears started to prickle her eyes. As if it wasn't hard enough studying for an English degree whilst also trying to keep light and limber for the dance competition on Saturday, now she had to go and do something typically blonde like this. 

She pondered what to do. What she really wanted was a chocolate milkshake, but that was so many calories...and dairy took so long to digest. It would only make practice harder. Sighing, she got up and went into the communal kitchen, deciding to make some green tea instead. It was a poor substitute, but the heat would be comforting and green tea was good for detoxing.

Tea bag, hot water, leave to brew -- a comforting routine. She was so engrossed in what she was doing that, when a soft voice said "Hi," she nearly dropped the kettle.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to startle you."

She turned and gave him a brief smile. "That's OK."

She really wasn't in the mood for Richard right now. It was rare that he ever emerged from his room, but when he did he always managed to make her feel uncomfortable. It wasn't that he checked her out -- Stella was very used to guys doing that. In fact, he seemed so indifferent to her that it was positively offensive. He was always polite enough to acknowledge her, but that was as far as it went. She realised now that this was probably the greatest number of words he'd ever spoken to her in one encounter.

"Don't worry about it," she said. Did he even realise how geeky he was? Standing there with his lanky figure, and his Mario Brothers T-shirt and his outgrown hair and his -- his weirdness. He even wore glasses, just to make him into even more of a stereotype. 

He shrugged. "Bad day?" he asked.

Wow, he was making an effort today. "You could say that," she said.

"Anything I can do?"

Oh, go away, she thought, irritable suddenly. "Not unless you can rescue five hours' work from my computer," she said brusquely, and walked quickly out of the kitchen.

"Actually, I probably can," he said -- not desperately calling after her, but quietly, almost to himself rather than to her. In spite of herself, she stopped in her tracks and turned back to face him.

"Really?" she said.

"Really."

They looked at one another, Richard not making the offer and Stella not making the request, for some time. Richard was trying not to stare at her lustfully -- but it was difficult not to, which was why he usually went out of his way to avoid her. With her ash-blonde hair and her tiny but toned frame dressed in a floaty little summer dress, and the graceful way she moved, she was more like a fairy than a human girl -- and about as likely to be interested in him as she was to actually be one of the fey folk.

"I..." she began awkwardly. "I mean -- would you...would you give it a try?"

Actually be alone with her in her room? Richard could feel his heartbeat start to quicken. Licking his lips, which had suddenly gone very dry, he nodded. "OK."

He followed her into her room, wondering how many of the other guys on their floor would be jealous if they could see him. Stella was known as a bit of an ice maiden -- beautiful, but totally unapproachable. Apparently she'd never had as much as a date in all the time they'd been at university. Probably thinks she's too good for us mere mortals, he thought a little disdainfully. He didn't have much time for girls who thought they were God's gift to men. 

He liked to think of himself as someone who had a little more depth than the average male -- someone who went for girls on the basis of their brains rather than their looks -- and this was usually true. He also tended to prefer them curvy. It made no sense at all. This was why his attraction to her troubled him so. It was as if he was starting to turn into the sort of guy who went for 'hot' chicks without caring about whether there was anything beneath the surface. Well, he thought, he'd fix her computer and get out of there as quickly as possible. 

"So is there any saved version of the file?" he asked, sitting at the desk.

"Er...yes," she said, blushing. "I saved at the beginning, but after that -- I got so into what I was doing that I just, sort of...forgot."

He did not reply, but Stella thought she saw him roll his eyes, ever so slightly. Great, she thought -- now he thinks I'm a total bimbo. But hang on -- who cares what he thinks? 

Nervous now, she stood up and pulled her left leg up until it was nearly at ninety degrees to the floor. Stretching always helped her relax. The move had been performed unselfconsciously and for her own benefit -- but the effect on Richard was electric. He knew it was a ridiculously predictable response, but seeing her flexibility in action was making him imagine how many other positions she could get into. 

"I'm having a look at the auto save files," he said, struggling to keep his eyes on the screen and his voice even. "Hopefully I can get it back from there. Ah -- there's the most recent one." He clicked on the file and, to Stella's surprise and relief, the vast majority of the document reappeared on the screen.

"Oh, my God," she cried. "Thank you so much!"

Without thinking, she ran over and hugged him. Realising what she had done, she started to pull away -- but his arms were around her too. For the first time, she saw the hunger in his eyes -- and to her amazement, she felt her body start to respond to it. It had been so long since she'd last had any intimacy with a guy...her studies and her dancing took up pretty much all of her time and most of the time she didn't even think to miss it. But now, feeling the heat of his hands through her dress and the light tickling of his breath on the tops of her breasts, she wanted it so badly that she could barely think straight.

Wordlessly she moved the straps of her dress down over her shoulders, and then pulled the garment down so that she stood before him wearing nothing but pink cotton panties with ties at the sides. His eyes widened as he gazed at her slim but muscular body. Her breasts were so small he could probably get each one in his mouth in its entirety, and her nipples were such a pale pink that they barely stood out from the rest of the breast. He could hardly believe that she was presenting herself to him like this. Even though it was a very forward thing to do, still there was a kind of innocence about it too. Perhaps he had been wrong about her. 

Taking the cue for his silence from hers, he gripped her waist, swivelling the chair so that she stood between his legs, and ever so slowly ran the tip of his tongue up her tummy, from the top of her panties all the way up over her breastbone, then to her collarbone and finally under her chin. She was so petite in height that he could do this without having to bend down very much. Her skin was taut yet smooth, and her skin tasted fresh and clean. She threw her head back with a little sigh of pleasure, eyes closed, enjoying the attention. Now he was undoing the ties on her panties and peeling them off, stroking all the way down her legs as he did so.

"Bring your leg up like that again," he whispered, trying not to sound like he was begging her to do it, but knowing that he would if he had to. Her whole body feeling like it was on fire with anticipation, she did so, holding onto the desk with her other hand for added support. He let out his breath as he took in her gorgeous little pink pussy, all splayed and vulnerable-looking and, he noted with satisfaction, already moist. Kneeling on the floor beside her, he trailed his tongue up the inside of her supporting leg, making her gasp and buckle slightly.

"Keep your balance," he told her, smiling to himself. The final destination drew nearer, inch by inch, until at last the tip on his nose was touching her pussy. He burrowed in between the juicy folds, his hungry tongue seeking out her clitoris. She moaned deeply as he started to lick her, slowly and gently at first, but this time she did not wobble. As his tongue lapped her harder and faster, he slipped a finger inside her and started to ease it in and out. Within five seconds of doing this he felt her muscles contract powerfully as she came, moaning in time with each pulse.

"Put your leg down," he whispered. Confused by how much she was enjoying being directed in this manner and yet longing to do his bidding so that she could experience more, she did so.

"Now put the other one up," he said. 

Her eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

"Don't think you can hold it, huh?" he challenged, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Or can't you handle another orgasm like that one?"

Oh, I see, thought Stella, the power play he was pulling on her igniting something in her mind. Now you're all cocky because you feel like the big man. Well, we'll see about that.

"Oh, I can handle anything you've got," she told him. 

"In that case," he said, "right leg up and no wobbling."

Stella's perfectly-honed muscles -- and her tolerance -- were well and truly put to the test this time. Instead of bringing her off quickly as he had before, he deliberately slowed down whenever she started to get anywhere near coming. Sensing that he wanted her to start begging for release, she stopped herself from doing so -- but it was pure torture. His tongue was so sure of itself, so firm and probing, and curled around the folds of her pussy so delightfully, that she barely even noticed the ache beginning to develop in her supporting leg. 

"Mmmm," he murmured, nuzzling his nose against her clit. "You're fucking delicious. I think I might just eat you out all night."

"No," she cried, before she could stop herself.

"No?" He chuckled, slipping a couple of fingers inside her. "I thought you could handle anything I'd got." He stroked along the inside of her, marvelling at how tight she was and yet how easily she stretched to fit him in. 

"Oh, God. Harder...do it harder."

"Oh, I see." He removed his fingers entirely, eliciting a groan of disappointment. "You just want to be fucked, don't you?"

"Yes," she pleaded.

"In that case, I'm going to fill you so full that you'll have no room to want it harder."

And with that, he started to carefully ease one of the fingers he'd removed from her pussy into her ass. It was soaked in her cum and slipped in easily. He had expected some resistance, but she acquiesced so willingly that he introduced the other finger too. Then he buried his face between her legs again and began to tongue-fuck her. The taste and smell of her, and the sounds she made and the pure horniness of the situation, drove everything out of his mind but the need to have her in every possible way. With his remaining hand, he undid his jeans and began to stroke his cock, which had been practically ripping his seams with its struggle to become properly erect. There was no holding her orgasm back from her this time. Her musky juices poured into his mouth as her pussy gripped his tongue, and she held on to the desk for dear life as the pleasure pulsed through her.

When the last vestiges of her orgasm had died away and she was back on two feet again, she leaned back on the desk, panting. 

"Had enough?" he teased.

She shook her head, smiling. "Hell, no. It's your turn."

He did a double-take. "Excuse me?"

"It's your turn to show how well you can balance."

Seeing the panic spread over his face, she laughed. "It's OK -- you can have both feet to stand on. But you're not allowed to lean on anything."

"OK...do you mind if I ask what you have in mind?"

"Let your cock out and you'll see."

He did as she said. He was so hard by now it almost hurt. Stella felt her clit begin to tingle again as she looked at it. It was long and thick -- lots to work with. She was going to enjoy this. She'd done this trick for her ex and he'd never managed to keep his footing for longer than a minute, so intense was the pleasure it produced.

She put her hands onto his shoulders and sprung up slightly so that she was able to slip onto his cock, gripping his hips tightly with her thighs. Using the muscle control gained from years of dance training, she began to ride him hard.

"Oh, fuck," he gasped, stepping back to stop himself falling. He widened his stance a little so that he had a firm base to balance on, and in spite of how light she was he only just managed to keep steady. "Oh, you dirty little bitch."

"Like it?" she whispered. "I know I do."

The only answer he could make was a long, quiet moan. Her lithe body clung to his so effectively that his hands were completely free to explore her. Her tits felt just as good as he had hoped they would -- and he soon discovered that those delicate-looking pink nipples were partial to a firmer pinch than he would have given them credit for. The need to suck and bite them gave him the power needed to actually walk her over to the bed -- but then he found he couldn't shake her off.

"Get onto that bed," he growled. He could feel his own orgasm fast approaching. "Unless you want me to shoot my load into you."

"Tempting," she said, smiling.

"I'm warning you -- I'm not going to be able to pull out." 

She stopped moving and let go, much to his mingled relief and regret. His mouth descended onto her nipple. He had been right when he guessed that a whole breast would fit into his mouth. Feeling the tip of her nipple near the back of his throat turned him on to a near unbearable level. The next moment, though, her feet were resting on his shoulders. She wanted him back inside her, and she wanted him now. However she did not guide him into her pussy but into her ass, which was more than adequately lubricated with her cum. 

"Come inside me," she was saying. She was stroking her clit frantically, and he could tell that she was building up to yet another orgasm. The warmth and tightness of her perfect ass was seconds away from tipping him over the edge. Knowing by now how much she liked to have her pussy filled, he slid first two, then three fingers inside and finger-fucked her for all he was worth as he slammed his cock into her ass. She gave back as good as she got and then some. Within seconds they were both sated, and for several minutes they just lay there getting their breath back.

"You know what?" he said at last. "I thought that it was only computer fix-it guys in pornos that got their brains fucked out."

She chuckled. "I wasn't expecting that either. I needed it, though...thanks. I've been so focused on my studies and the dance practice that I've not really had much chance for sex."

"Well," he smiled, "I'm only down the hall if you ever need more of it." He glanced across at the desk. "I think your tea must have gone cold."

"Oh, well. It wasn't what I really wanted anyway."

"What did you really want? Or should it be obvious?"

She laughed. "Possibly. But the actual craving was for a chocolate milkshake. I didn't have one because they're fattening." She made a face. "Ballet dancers have to worry about that sort of thing."

"I reckon you've probably got room for one after that workout." For the first time, he kissed her on the mouth -- just a quick kiss, but with the promise of more. "Let's go and find a milkshake. With extra calories in it."

"You know what?" she said. "That could be a really great idea."