0 comments/ 71522 views/ 7 favorites Alan's Intrusion By: Best Teacher You may have experienced that sometimes people come unexpectedly into your life with a bang, sometimes they just somehow merge with no fanfare, and at other times your life seems to become just hopelessly entangled with them and can’t seem to separate. This was not the case with Alan and me. Instead, we ran parallel for a few years, glanced off each other, and then spun our own way in a different direction. First, I guess I should tell you about myself. My name is Cheryl Miller; I am currently thirty years old, and live in a relatively small town in Oklahoma. I am of medium height and weight and, without being vain, can say that my parents were so kind genetically as to leave me with reasonably nice features. In short, I get my share of attention from men even now, and I am five months pregnant with a second child. I have light brown hair and breasts that went from being ample as a teenager to becoming abundant as I matured in my early twenties. My husband says I am a magnet for “tit men,” which I think he finds very exciting. Daryl and I grew up in a small town in the Texas panhandle. We dated through our senior year and, even though we both knew we were meant for each other, we also knew that we had to take different directions for a few years in order to ready ourselves for life. I had a real interest in the theatre and English and hoped to teach. He was a “hands on” guy and knew the crafts were for him. Being from families with modest incomes, we had to take what we could get. He had an uncle in Waco that welcomed him into his home for the considerable time it would take him to go through a really excellent technical school there to become a licensed electrician. I was drawn to a small school in Colorado through my grades and an old friend of my mother. In short, our love life was reduced to phone calls, letters, Christmas breaks, and summers. Four years is a long time. I think, deep down, we both realized the impracticality of living apart and just standing around wringing our hands waiting for each other. There were other men that came and went in my life, and I’m sure there were women in his, too. Like most other teenagers “going steady,” we had petted heavily during our senior year. We reached the point of being totally naked together at times and masturbated each other to orgasm on numerous occasions. Once the graduation occurred and we were “grown up,” we lost no time in going all the way. We both took precautions and I’m sure he came to the same conclusion I did about the whole thing; I really liked it! So, even though I knew where my heart was, I gave my body to a number of guys during the four years we were parted. I made sure there was never a commitment and I found that I could come to orgasm easily with a casual relationship. I’m not saying I had round heels. In four years, I was with six men at different times. I’m sure he was no different, being a really good-looking guy with a witty personality. However, something did happen during this separation that had a fairly major impact on me. Since I was involved with theatre groups, for some reason I tended to get involved with older men. I’m not saying there were huge age differences, but when you are nineteen and he is twenty-seven or so, there is an appreciable difference. It was actually good in that these men were in it strictly for the short haul and made no attempt to complicate my life. The event that I am speaking of happened in October of my sophomore year. I was nineteen at the time and a very sophisticated man of twenty-nine introduced me to the fine art of cunnilingus. Oh, I knew about it, but nice boys and girls from the panhandle didn’t do it. I immediately fell in love with the tantalizing act and couldn’t get enough of it. My suitors for the next three years more than filled my expectations, as I made no pretense of what really turned me on. Daryl was able to get through technical school and his apprenticeship before I graduated. Anxious to let me know how he really felt about me, he proposed and I accepted during my last Christmas at school. He had already taken a job with an oil field company in East Texas and had a surprisingly good income. A small wedding in late May finally brought us together and our life of bliss began. The first and sweetest thing he did was to allow me to take a job as an English and drama teacher in a medium size high school about sixty miles away from where he worked. This caused him to get up early and come home late in order for me to live close to my job. In addition, if you’ve never lived in an oil field, it waits for nobody, so he spent many long hours, nights and weekends, on the job. For this, he was paid well and we were able to completely bank my entire paycheck. We agreed to a plan that would have me work five years, take five to six years off to have two children, then go back to work. We had our act together, the key word being together. Daryl and I truly enjoy being with each other. That puppy love has never worn off. On the surface, we appeared to everybody around us to be a very sweet, very nice conservative couple. In fact, the best term to describe us would be “torrid.” Even though Daryl was not particularly endowed and he wasn’t the most accomplished lover I had ever had, we were constantly at each other sexually and knew no bounds. What I wore at home and under my clothes in public, including school, was extremely provocative. Even though we watched our daily cost of living closely, there was no limit on spending for my attire. He would buy me some things that were so tantalizing and exposing that we would have to drive into Dallas for me to wear them at some of the clubs in order not to be seen by those who knew us. Even in the larger town, we happily drew attention. But we always saved the best for our trips. Twice a year we would either go to one of the islands or to Cancun. When we were there, all wraps came off. I dressed in practically nothing, much to his delight, but afterwards had to be very careful not to undress in front of people at home. My bare skin would show obvious tan marks of me being on the beach in a very skimpy thong and a top with nothing more than my nipples covered, if that. Even though it took me a while to adjust to it, he loved for me to go topless on the beaches. I could never get into the tanning booth scene, so my tan was natural and very publicly obtained. He also wore a thong, but it didn’t seem to bother him for the other guys to know. We weren’t prudes, either. Even though we had to be very careful about what we did because of my job, we were not above being mutually aroused outside of our own actions. We both were aware or the attention we each got from the opposite sex and not only did not mind, but at times went out of our way to exploit it for each other’s entertainment. We loved watching adult films together, but he had to rent them from out of town where we were not known. They gave me a case of “antsy pants” when I was watching them and I just gushed orgasms after we were through. The most outrageous thing we ever did together happened one weekend when he had to go to El Paso. It was a four-day weekend for me so I made the long drive out there with him in his big company pick-up truck just for the ride and to get us out of town. His business was over Saturday afternoon and we were to drive back Sunday. All day I could tell he was just brimming over with some scheme that he was hiding from me. That night we went across the border to Juarez. Once there, we took a taxi and Daryl handed him an address. The driver looked at the two of us, shrugged, and drove on. When we arrived there, the driver opened the door, hesitated, and said, “Sir, are you sure? I can take you to some much nicer clubs that are less expensive.” Daryl assured him this was where we wanted to be, and I was more and more apprehensive about all of it. Just being on the wrong side of the border frightened me. “What’s in here?” “I heard about this place today from some guys who work around here. They say it’s a little expensive, but well worth it.” I didn’t press any further, but I think the cover charge caught Daryl by surprise. Fifty dollars apiece was a lot for us. Then it was me caught by surprise. Even though it looked small and indistinct from the outside, the inside was very dark and very plush. It was mostly couples, all sitting quietly and speaking among themselves. A stage became lighted, music started, and this small town country girl sat open mouthed and spell bound as we sat through a two-hour sex show!! Men on women, women on men, multiple players on each other doing unspeakable things. At one point shortly after the show started, I leaned over and whispered, “I’ll never forgive you for this.” In reality, thirty minutes into it I was dripping wet and squirming on my seat like a kid in church. Thank goodness the darkness covered my red face and short breathing. And just as I had thought we had seen it all, it ended with a thirty-minute lesbian show involving two absolutely gorgeous women. I was looking for any way to explain to myself why it was such a huge turn-on for me. Finally, it was over. When we got in the taxi to go back Daryl leaned over and whispered, “How did you like it?” “It was disgusting. I can’t believe you took me to a place like that.” Without warning, he reached under my dress and under my panties. I turned my head because, much to my chagrin, I knew his hand was met with a sloppy, wet pussy. “Ri-i-i-i-g-g-h-h-t,” he said. He quietly brought me off with his fingers right there in the taxi, then we went back to our hotel and screwed with abandon all night, not taking into account the long drive ahead of us the next day. On the trip back across that barren wasteland, we switched drivers often. Not so much out of driving relief, but whoever was driving had the other’s head buried in their lap, cock and pussy being licked every hour or so to the point that we had to wait for each other to desensitize before we could do it again. It was heaven! In short, for four years we were very busy and extremely happy. Everything was happening to us as if taken from a script. I was teaching English and drama and was responsible for all student productions. It was very time consuming but we were able to handle everything and always find time for ourselves. But, I’m not saying everything was perfect. There was a disappointment for me in our marriage that I’m sure most people would think was minor. It had to do with Daryl going down on me. It wasn’t that it wasn’t sweet or that I didn’t enjoy it when he would, without fail, bring me to orgasm. It’s just that with him it was like it was a race, seeing how fast and hard he could make me come. I secretly longed for those days when I had a head between my legs with a tongue and mouth teasing me for an hour at a time, refusing to let me come until I begged for mercy. Many nights and mornings when he was gone I would lie leisurely in bed or on the couch with my clothes off, my hand between my legs for hours as I reminisced about those past pleasures. I don’t want to say I was consumed with it, but it was definitely a factor in my life. However, it was a weakness and maybe because of that inner weakness, I did fall prey to my only indiscretion rather early in our marriage. If Daryl had ever had any action outside of our marriage, I was totally unaware of it and have never had a reason to doubt. But in fact he was gone quite often and it sometimes involved longer trips to Louisiana, Oklahoma, West Texas and one time, Colorado. It was during one of these trips that on the spur of the moment I decided to take a school sponsored trip with the other drama teachers in the district to Houston for a seminar put on by a group out of New York doing some off-Broadway work. My main interest had to do with settings and props. The idea was to watch the play one night in the audience, then have an all day class in the area of your interest the next day. My class only had four people in it and was taught by the stage production manager. During his introduction and through the conversations of the day, we found that in addition to being handsome in a rough sort of way, he was married, had two children, and spent a lot of time away from New York. He chose to give us the class right on the set and all of us were thrilled with the idea. The set was, of course, much more grand than anything any of us had ever done. By the end of the day most of the other’s interest was starting to wane and their thoughts and conversations turned to what they were going to do that night in the big city. As for me, I was still totally enthralled with the theatre happenings. Lynn recognized that and quietly asked me if I would be interested in being behind the scenes that night during the performance. I jumped at the chance and he gave me a pass to get back stage and very detailed instructions concerning show times, etc. “As much as I would love to have you visit, the show slows for no one. And, by the way, wear something comfortable. If you’re going to keep up with me you will be on your feet a lot.” I got the idea that my visit was great as long as it didn’t interfere. I arrived that night in a gush of excitement wearing a short, lightweight comfortable dress and shoes with almost no heel. Lynn was professional from the start but still found time to introduce me to the other technicians around him and let them explain what they were doing. I was particularly interested in set design, but Lynn said that was done away from the set and he personally did most of it. One of the things he did do for me was to get me inside the female dressing room during one of the musical’s costume changes. I stood silently to one side and was amazed at not only what was going on, but also the vast array of perfect bodies. The girls were of different sizes, but they all had that one thing in common; their bodies were immaculate. Once I went back out and found Lynn, I made a comment that after being in there I felt like a fat cow. He looked me carefully up and down and said, “You’re anything but a cow,” in a very appreciative tone. Like a little girl, I felt it go straight through me and make a little ping right in my pussy. I didn’t have much time to think about it, though, because he stuck a little sandwich in my mouth and pressed a glass of wine in my hand. I was amazed at the amount of wine flowing behind those scenes. By the time the show was over I had, in a bad decision, consumed three or four glasses. Lynn offered to take me out to eat after the play and I eagerly accepted. Turning all the last minute details of the night over to his assistant, we went out to a small diner. All we spoke of during the meal was about productions and he was trying to explain what detailed plans looked like. Finally, he quit trying. “I have the plans for this play in my room. Just come on up and one glance will tell you how detailed it has to be. I can’t describe it, otherwise.” In a wine-dimmed decision, I agreed to go and found myself in a hotel room surrounded by books of detailed drawings and instructions that both dazed and excited me. With still another glass of wine in my hand, I pored through them on the couch and again when he had them spread all over the bed. It was a full hour later when I realized his hand was under my dress. Through all the maneuvering and repositioning to look at the drawings, I had somehow ended on the edge of the bed, kneeling on the floor as I looked at some larger drawings. I have no idea when he did it or how long he had been there, but all at once I was aware of the hand softly massaging the inside of my thigh. With no conscious thought, I knew that my pelvis was slowly moving back and forth in response to his touch. Instead of pulling away immediately or pushing his hand away, I hesitated in the drowsy stupor that I was in. At that critical moment, he became aware that I knew of his hand and that I was making no immediate effort to remove it. To him, I’m sure that was the same as approval. He slid his hand on up my leg, slipping a large finger past my thong and into me in one quick, smooth movement. He didn’t stop to rub my lips or tease my clit, but rather deftly entered me up to the full length of his finger without even so much as a hesitation. I don’t know what was the greatest sensation, the overall surprise of his sudden intrusion or the pure pleasure provided by the digits rapidly entering me. Either way, I moaned and bucked forward against his hand. My head dropped down to my hands, which were spread on the bed. Taking my reaction as acceptance, he began a steady, slow plunging action with the finger. I looked to one side and then the other to see where he was, but he was behind me and in complete control. “Please, Lynn, I need to go.” I had enough wits about me to know that I was in over my head in a place I wasn’t supposed to be. “Soon.” I felt him pull the hem of my dress up with his other hand, exposing my bronzed ass to him with the string of my thong coming up out of my ass as the only protection. We had just come back from Cancun two weeks before and I was deeply tanned from the week of sun. “Nice tan. This didn’t come from a tanning booth!” His lips touched to my ass, moving slowly the white lines made by the skimpy thong I had worn on the beach. Finally, with a moan and a swoosh of air escaping my mouth; he removed his finger from me. Thinking I was getting a reprieve, I let out a sigh and dropped my head on the bed. My ass lurched forward with the sudden departure and, even though I was relieved it was over, I admitted the finger had had been much more than just arousing. He pulled me to my feet and with a red face and a hanging head, I started to smooth out my dress, thinking I was about to leave. Meanwhile, he casually reached over and with a sweep of his arm cleared off the edge of the bed. He turned me around to face him and without a word, put both hands under my dress and with a quick jerk, my thong was down below my knees. I threw my hands out in surprise to protect myself. “No, Lynn! Don’t!” It certainly wasn’t what I was expecting. His answer was to push me back against the bed where my knees hit and buckled, sending me sprawling on my back. My skirt flew up high on my hips, my legs opened, and he moved swiftly on me, pulling my thong down and off as if I were assisting. Maybe in order to preempt my intention to clasp my legs shut, he dropped down immediately in between them so that when I did I was simply clasping his body between my open legs. “You look wonderful!” Not needing his hands to keep my legs parted, he had shoved my dress up above my waist and was looking straight into my exposed crotch. I turned my head and cringed under his gaze. I knew what he was seeing and admiring. He was looking at a deep tan interrupted by only by a small patch of white where the little bit of cloth had protected me. But, right in the middle of that pale skin was a tiny, ridiculous patch of my dark pubic hair, shaved down to the point that there was only a tiny puff of it sitting just above where my slit reached my mound. It had been carefully trimmed to not ruin the effect of that white thong bathing suit I wore. It would take months for it to return to the thick, dark bush that was natural for me. I didn’t answer. I knew he wasn’t looking for one, nor did he need any further invitation. Looking up at me, he very, very slowly put his hands under my knees and lifted then up. When he had them positioned where he wanted them, I was spread wide open with my knees spread to each side of my body. Looking between my open legs into my eyes, he slowly lowered his head. I lurched at the initial touch of his tongue sliding between my pussy lips. Alan's Intrusion “N-o-o-o-o, please don’t, Lynn.” I vaguely remember the words coming out, but he didn’t pay any more attention to them then what I meant. It was a feeble last minute attempt to save me from my first indiscretion, and he knew it was no more than that. In fact, I made no attempt to push him away and within minutes was holding the back of his head with both my hands, encouraging him on if nothing but by my slow gyrations against his face and the constant low moans escaping from my mouth. It took no time for me to realize that, even if it was illicit, I was getting my fantasies fulfilled. He was a master at this and I knew it was not going to be the whirlwind, blow your mind real quick experience that I had become accustomed to with Daryl. Instead, he teased me forever before he even let his tongue touch my clit. When he finally did and I started going into a small convulsion indicating an imminent orgasm, he backed off. I yelped and moaned at the delay, but was appeased to some extent when he started licking my pussy and ass to keep me on that delicious high. “What do you like?” He had control and the teasing was starting. I had gone through this before in my past and didn’t know whether to dread or look forward to the certain tantalizing teasing that was to come. I didn’t answer his question. “What do you want me to do?” He backed off slowly with his mouth as if firing me a warning shot. “I want your mouth.” It was slow and soft as it came out of me. How did a little panhandle girl get to this? “Where?” “Between my legs.” I was already having to beg. “If I do, will you give me what I want?” Instantly, for some reason, I knew I was going to have a mouth full of cock in me sometime that night. I didn’t particularly like to do it and didn’t think I was very good at it, but Daryl seemed to like it so I guess I wasn’t a complete loss at it. “Uh huh.” I nodded. His head went back down, his hands found my breast, and I was sent spiraling out into some type of erotic fog for over an hour. His persistent teasing tongue was supplemented with his fingers, sometimes teasing or twisting my nipples, sometimes entering me with a slow then forceful stroke. As my wetness drained down between my legs, he added a slow, tender entry into my ass with his finger, which I had always forbidden. Even though I pleaded with him to finish me early in the session, the pleas finally turned to outright begging. When he had me where he wanted me, he gave a final fast hard assault on my clit. “A-u-u-u-u-u-g-g-h-h.” It came out of me and wouldn’t stop. The undulations that my body had been doing turned to outright thrashing about the bed. When the wonderful feeling of the overpowering orgasm went away and my oversensitive clit turned from pleasure to pain, I pushed his head away and begged him to stop. He ignored me, mauling the swollen nub with his mouth. I tossed and turned on the bed with the unbearable torture. “Please, please, please.” That’s all that would come out. He lifted his head and looked at me from between my legs. “Are you ready for me?” “Yes. Oh, yes!” Anything to relieve that ache between my legs. He got up, pulled me to my feet, and for the first time totally disrobed me. Then He cleared the bed of everything and laid me back on it. In a surprise move, he went to his bathroom and came back putting on a rubber. He also had a small tube of cream in his hand. Having expected to have to give him oral sex, I was pleased when he instead gently mounted me, moving into me with no fanfare and with an intensity that I had not seen for a while. Giving me slow full strokes, it took no time for me to get back up on my high. Along with the long shaft pleasing me, he finally started kissing me, both on my lips and breast. While I was soaking the sensations in, he would drop his hand under me and tease me with a finger against my ass, slipping one digit in and out as he went. Even though I had sad misgivings about what I was doing throughout the entire evening, I was still heady enough with the wine and sex to fully enjoy it. It didn’t surprise or bother me when he came out of me and turned me over on my stomach. I liked it when Daryl fucked me from behind, the penetration was so great. There was a hesitation for a minute and I looked back to see him rubbing himself with the cream from the tube. When he lifted my ass up and placed me on my knees, I closed my eyes and readied myself for the entry. But, my eyes flew open and my jaw dropped when, instead of that big lubricated head piercing my labia, it instead popped straight into my ass. There was no gentle nudging, no coaxing. Instead, he entered me with a quick lunge, stretching my sphincter wide with no warning. “O-o-o-o-h-h-h-h-h! Stop!! Ow,ow,ow, ouch. N-o-o-o-o-o!! Stop!! No-o-o-o-o!! Stop!! Stop!!” There were a series of almost non-distinguishable sounds bellowing out of me. This was something that I just didn’t do. Even though many of my suitors, including Daryl, had wanted to do it before, I had drawn the line. It was nasty and disgusting and I wouldn’t have any part of it! “Ow,ow,ow,ow.” I just kept emitting my painful emissions as he began to drive into me, going deeper each time. I fell forward on the bed, trying to escape the painful intrusion, but he moved right with me, never allowing his cock to come out. Instead, he just reached around me and started an extremely painful twisting of both my nipples. There was absolutely nothing soft, gentle or pleasurable with what was happening to me right then and I came to my senses enough to become scared. I was in a hotel room with a guy I didn’t know and he was sodomizing me against my will! How did I let this get this far? I might be from the country, but I couldn’t be that stupid! “You’ve never had it this way?” His voice seemed amused. “N-o-o-o.” I was squirming under his weight. “Relax. Let your body go with it. Enjoy it.” His voice was very calming through my terror. I was wondering what other options I was going to be offered. “Please get off, Lynn. I don’t want it this way.” “You promised me I could have what I wanted.” He was right, but I had not imagined this. Through his soft encouragement and my protesting, I think we both knew the situation was not going to change. I couldn’t dislodge him and he was intent that I would succumb to him. After a few minutes, I finally stopped struggling and gave way to him, hoping this would be over in a few minutes. As with the other things that happened that night, it was not to be. I lie there under him, absorbing what had become slow, gentle strokes. It was buried so far within me that I couldn’t comprehend it, but slowly I became accustomed to his intrusion. Out of exhaustion, I both mentally and physically quit fighting him. If I had thought this was going to be fast, I was mistaken. He approached fucking me in the ass the same way he had approached sucking my clit with his mouth; it was deliberately long and tantalizing. He started bringing his head almost all of the way out as if he were going to abandon me, and then would slowly, slowly go back to a full intrusion. After a few seconds of a gently grinding against me with his full hilt, filling every nerve inside my passage, he would repeat it. Slowly, surly, against my will and every idea of decency I ever had, I started feeling a gentle, warm, glowing sensation inside. With total disbelief and with every effort to mentally fight it off, the feeling of that massive head sliding up and down inside me was starting to become pleasurable. It didn’t just spring up and grab me the way it does when I felt a cock plunging in me or a mouth closing over my clit, but rather a warm, slowly developing change from pain to pleasure. “See, I told you it would be good.” The soft resonance of his voice was ensuring, wiping out some of my fears. He had obviously picked up on my vibes of acceptance. “It’s not right. It’s nasty.” I guess I was not going to go down without protesting enough to appease my good girl morals. In fact, I was started to move back against him a little, enjoying the sensation of his fingers on my nipples. As it was, all that painful twisting he had done with them had caused them to be particularly sensitive now to his gentle manipulations. The little bit of backward pressure I was applying to him slowly evolved into me moving my body in sync with him. Then the little undesired moans started coming from my mouth, embarrassing me to no end. Any pretense of my not accepting it was over. Within ten minutes I was squirming under him and moaning like a schoolgirl coming for the first time. His probing shaft was hot, hard, large and a non-stop source of pleasure inside of me. Throwing all shame aside, I was reaching back with my hands to grasp his thrusting hips. When I came with frenzy, I don’t know whether I brought him over the edge with me or if it was he leading me. I just know it was an unexpected and gratifying exit from what I had always considered a depraved act, culminating in a very loud, mutual explosion. He continued to pound me while we came and I shook all over, crying out with the totally unexpected pleasure. I had reached an orgasm while being sodomized. I really, really thought that girls couldn’t come this way, that it was a myth. Was I ever wrong! We lie there together for about fifteen minutes, come running down my legs from both my ass and pussy, mine mixed with his. As I began to get back to reality of what I had done, I began to cry. Even though I’m sure he knew he could do nothing to appease me and wasn’t particularly concerned, he made the effort to comfort me and assure me that there was no reason for it to should not affect my marriage, that things like this happened all the time. I had serious doubts. Then, as abrupt as it started, I got up from the bed and cleaned myself a little in the bathroom. He took me to my hotel where I tried to sneak in at such a late hour, avoiding any of my group. That was it! I never saw or heard from him again. A few weeks later, after one of our really hot sex sessions, Daryl recovered from his orgasm and got hard again, gently pressing his head against my ass and just holding it there. He had done it many, many times before, knowing that it was just part of a fantasy that was never to be fulfilled. He had slid his head up and down my wet pussy before he touched it against me so he was very lubricated. To his open surprise, I felt him gasp when I reached down between us and slowly led him into me. He applied just the slightest amount of pressure, and between our actions and the lubricating action of our sperm he slipped slowly in, burying his head in me. We rocked back and forth for a minute or two. As is the case with him sometimes, he wasn’t able to hold his excitement very long and came with a loud groan. Still, he was gushing with excitement and stayed inside me as long as he was hard. He held me closely for hours, which suited me more than even the explosive orgasm I had experienced before when I first did it. He couldn’t believe I had allowed him to do it! The next evening when I sat down to dinner, there was a beautiful set of ear rings sitting on my plate that I knew we could ill afford. I don’t know if I changed dramatically because of that single infidelity, if he changed because I allowed him to fulfill a fantasy, or if we just were proceeding on a normal progression for a young married couple, but it just seemed that Daryl and I became closer and closer with each other. Life was, simply put, great. I couldn’t imagine anything that would change it. And I certainly wouldn’t have thought it would be a student. Into my life wandered Alan. Alan Zachary Barrow, to be exact. It’s not like he just popped up. He was a senior and I had been his class sponsor since he was a freshman, as new teachers always were assigned freshman classes and moved up with them. I had also taught him junior English. Alan was a real unusual case from the standpoint of the school. He was a large boy, well over six feet, was very quiet to the point of being an introvert, excelled as an athlete, and was a straight A student. Yet, he was considered by the district to be an “at risk” child. This was due to the financial status of his family and the fact that there had been a few minor brushes with authorities. Nothing major, just little things. He was a bit of a mystery to the other kids since, as attractive as he was, he never dated and shunned most social events. I think it may have been because he was older than them. Earlier in his childhood his family had moved a lot, causing him to be set back in school. He was pretty late in his nineteenth year when he graduated, barely making it under the age limits allowed in Texas for him to participate in school activities. Rumor had it that his real social life was in a much larger town fifty miles away and that there he was referred to as “The Zack.” He also lived with a legacy. He lived with his mother and his aunt. Both of them were in their mid to late thirties and very, very attractive. His mother held a low paying job at a local firm. The reason they were in the town had to do with a local state prison. A lot of the townspeople worked there, but Alan’s dad was in there. From the story, he had been caught in an armed robbery attempt years ago and was serving a term there which would keep him in another four or five years. His mom had moved them close so she could visit, never swaying from their marriage commitment. His divorced aunt had moved in with them soon after that in order to share expenses. Because of all this, the small school had a special interest in his successful graduation and considered Alan to be a prize possession. Even the superintendent showed interest in his graduation. I’m not saying Alan picked up on this and abused it, but there were certainly times when he did or said things that would have normally been brought to the attention of administration but was instead swept under the rug by teachers who didn’t want to be the one rocking the boat. My personal involvement with him began when he volunteered to help build sets for our plays. It’s very difficult to get anybody to help with this, and as long as I gave him tasks to do on his own and didn’t try to have him work as part of a group, he was masterful. I couldn’t believe how creative he was. Then one night, while we were working with some other kids, I heard this voice starting to sing. Always being in a constant search for talent, I immediately started looking for the source. You can imagine my surprise when I discovered it was he, quietly singing to himself while wearing headphones. Two things came to mind; one, here was this great voice that I would never get to use because it was too late, and two, what he was singing. When he finally realized I was there, he looked at me sheepishly and sort of smiled as he took the headset off. Without saying a word, I reached out my hand and he handed me the unit. I opened it to find a CD of Tony Bennett. And that’s how Alan sounded. “Don’t tell anybody.” That’s all he said. “I won’t, but I sure wish I had known over all these years.” “Sorry.” That was the end of the conversation, but after that he started opening up to me. He was within the last semester of graduation so maybe he didn’t see me as a threat. Maybe. On the other hand, it was soon after that the touching started. Being touched by my male students was not new. I had been warned about it during my teacher certification classes and had been spoken to a number of times by experienced and wizened teachers. Especially the females that were really attractive. They told me that with my age and looks to expect and learn to tactfully deal with the attention of the boys and that they would know no bounds. It was true. I lived a constant life of kids looking up my dress, down my blouse, brushing my breast, touching my ass. They all had a crush on me and it became a way of life. It actually turned my husband on. He asked me daily if anything happened with the boys. I would always make it much more tantalizing than it really was, but I didn’t tell him about the amount of attention that came from other male teachers and administrators, which was substantial. I thought that was best kept to myself. Alan’s attempt to become close to me was met as a welcome challenge. I really liked him and when he opened up it revealed a quick, knowledgeable humor. He knew more about the stage than any student I had ever had, even though he had no interest in performing. His abilities and work habits became apparent within weeks. Unlike the others, I could count on him being where he was suppose to be and doing the work that he was assigned. He lived near the school and it became normal for him to show up without warning when he saw my car parked there. More and more, I was finding myself alone with him. He seemed to have a knack for knowing when I would be working on a project that, in order to assist me, would cause very close personal contact. Although I silently backed off at times, the feel of Alan’s hands on me and the slight tingle of his breath on my neck became commonplace and uncomfortably pleasant. The mistake I made came early on a Saturday morning. Since Daryl routinely worked a half a day on Saturdays, I got into the habit of getting up early, just throwing something on, and going up to the school to work on the props for the play. On this particular morning, for some reason, Daryl was feeling his oats and just before he left for work bent me over the kitchen table, lifted my short robe and gave me a “slam bam, outa here” fuck. It left me feeling good in a “hanging” sort of way as he walked out the door. Deciding not to wait to start on my project, I just threw on what I had worn the night before at home which consisted of a very loose fitting blouse and a pair of loose shorts. Having not bathed, I put back on the skimpy excuse for a bra that I had worn for him the night before and didn’t bother with panties. It was barely eight in the morning when I stood in the little school theatre looking at my project. I had to staple a large hand painted background on to a wooden frame and I had to get it right the first time. After looking at my options for a while, I decided my best course and started to work. I hadn’t been on it two minutes before I was startled by a soft, familiar voice. “You’re going about that all wrong.” “Alan! What brings you out so early?” “Couldn’t sleep last night. Went for a bike ride and saw your car.” “So, what’s wrong with my plan?” I was more than willing to have a second opinion. I was not surprised when he showed me an easier way, but it would take two people to do it. Without a word, we started. It was going to have to be done in two phases, both parts requiring us be on our hands and knees. The first session had us facing each other as we worked. We went at it with a friendly banter and it was going well. We were in to it for about ten minutes when I couldn’t help but notice the attention I was getting. Suddenly I realized that the blouse I had on was very loose and open at the top and Alan had an unobstructed view. He was getting a tremendous dose of those twin pendulums hanging down, large and tanned and restricted only by skimpy transparent cloth that was little more than a joke. When I was standing up, the bra allowed the very tops of my nipples to be exposed. Hanging freely, no telling what he was treated to. It was decision time, but I had few options. I could ask him not to look, but that didn’t quite make it. I could stop for a while and go home to change, but that was the same as telling him he had been caught. I decided that the damage was done and I would just bare through it. I don’t know if he planned it or not, but the procedure we were doing required me to concentrate carefully on what I was doing while he was at leisure to watch me. I’m sure he never took his eyes off my breasts the whole time. Alan's Intrusion By the time we had finished that part, I will admit to the little sensations starting to tingle through me. It wasn’t that I was trying to or wanted to tease him, but try as I may I couldn’t help but react to the attention I was getting. It didn’t help any that Daryl had not only left me stranded on a high, but his semen was still seeping slowly out of my uncovered pussy and drying in a thin crust on the inside of my thighs. A little thought crept through my mind. When we were dating, it seemed like there was a very distinctive smell coming off us after we had sex. I remembered trying to make sure I didn’t come in close contact with my parents afterward in fear of them smelling me. I wondered if that was the case now, with us in such close proximity. The next phase required us to work side by side for a while with all of our hands busy. I was relieved to get away from the tit show, even though we were now in even more close proximity than before. As we moved slowly down the line our shoulders and legs were side by side, touching each other fully from top to bottom. “You smell wonderful.” It was said in a quiet, unassuming voice. I thanked him and wondered again about the smell of sex on me. It was a few minutes later that I realized that somehow his legs were no longer beside mine as we worked, but one of them was in between mine. He was wearing a pair of loose, thin sweat pants and through them I could feel the undeniable presence of a very large, very hard teenage cock rubbing against my leg. I shuddered when I first realized it and he asked me if I was okay. “Yes.” But as we moved on all I could think of was the presence of that shaft rubbing against my bare leg. My shorts were light and loose and my imagination allowed me to picture that somehow his cock had come out of his pants and was sticking up under my shorts leg. Soon, I knew it was not my imagination when he started a very slow, very slight humping against my leg. I’m sure he knew I was aware of what he was doing. A couple of times I unintentionally stopped, freezing in place, while he continued the slow humping. I could feel him throbbing against me and it was unnerving. Finally, it reached the point that he would lift his hands from the project and lightly touch my hips on each side as if holding them. There was no doubt in my mind that at that moment I was being screwed, if only in his mind. We got to the end of the job. We hadn’t spoken for several minutes by that time, each of us caught up in the moment. I’m sure he was on the verge of orgasm, his breath very heavy and his body shaking. As for me, I was on the edge of terror, not afraid of him but rather the situation I allowed to happen. He was just an attractive teenager with a crush, taking advantage of a situation. But I was a teacher responsible for both our actions. That made it particularly tough when I felt his hands slide slowly under the legs of my loose shorts, sliding slowly up towards my uncovered ass. That was it. This had to stop now. “Alan, what are you doing?” I asked very quietly and with no attempt to move. “Touching you. You feel wonderful.” He said it as if there was no big deal. “You need to stop now.” I wondered if he could feel the chill bumps that had suddenly formed on my body. “I’m sorry. Are you cold?” There was my answer. “No, I’m not cold. But, you need to remove your hands, please.” He did, sliding them out from under my legs. Then, his hands went up the front of my shorts and quickly under my blouse to grasp my breasts. It was all so quick I had to react after he did it rather than during. By the time my hands got to his they had pushed my bra up and were full of tit and nipple. His humping had turned from a slight movement to a hard, steady motion with his hard sliding fully up and down my ass through the cloth. Most of this happened in seconds, not minutes, and I was not the least bit amused. I cleared his hands and stood up. “Alan, you need to leave now.” “Okay.” That was it. He got up and walked out the door. Shaking, I cleaned up my mess and went home; extremely distraught with the event and the way I had handled it. I know it started slowly and what I thought was innocently, but it sure didn’t end that way. I would tell you that all of it aroused me, but in fact I was appalled and in retrospect knew that I should have slapped his face. To not have done so turned out to be a big mistake. A week passed without incident. Due to the nature of my job, I had no choice but have contact with Alan, even though I made a conscientious effort to avoid situations where we would be alone together. He was withdrawn, too, probably being aware of the problem he had caused for himself. As the week passed, however, and he realized that I was going to let it pass, he started to become his old self again. Still, when I went to the school that weekend, I made sure all doors were locked and nobody could just walk in. The following Tuesday night the kids worked on the set for a couple of hours as a group. I unintentionally let them stay too late and was in a rush to get them out of there but at the last minute I needed a few of them to help me get some items out of the storage building that was adjacent to the school. Most of them had been in there before and had no desire to be there. It was a large musky building that reeked of dust and had promises of varmints of all kinds. The only person who found it of interest was Alan, who wandered around in it each time we were down there as if he were looking for something particular of interest. Since it wasn’t always locked, I knew that he was in there at times by himself for reasons unknown to me. It was dark outside when I went down there with three kids, including Alan. I knew exactly what I needed and where it was, so it would be an in and out trip. Some of it was light, some heavy. Alan graciously helped the other two pick up the light stuff and they shot out of there, anxious to get home. Alan went wandering around in the very back, so I had to chase him out of there. “Alan, let’s get these boxes and get out.” “Okay, but come here a second. I want you to see this.” Reluctantly, I went back where he was. He was holding a small box in his hand. “Hold out your hands and close your eyes. You’ve been looking for this.” He motioned for me to hold out my hands palm up, as if he were getting ready to put something in them. I was tired and didn’t want to play games, but I went along with him, offering my hands out straight in front of me as I shut my eyes. No telling what he had found. I just hoped it wasn’t alive! There was a rustle of sound, and then I felt his hands on mine. Knowing immediately I had made a mistake, I opened my eyes quickly and tried to drop my arms. They came to an abrupt halt, not falling to my sides. I looked at my hands and both of them were bound with some soft velvet ropes that had been left over from building a prop. He had made loops in them on each end and put my hands through those loops so that he could tighten them quickly. “Alan, what are you doing?” As I tried to take them off, he pulled suddenly and they tightened even more, separating my arms so that my hands could not touch each other to untie them. I looked around and realized that the rope had been drawn around two support post, which would keep my arms separated as I stood there. “Alan, let me go. This isn’t amusing and you’re in enough trouble already.” I knew the other kids were near, so I wasn’t going into a complete panic. Without saying a word, he stretched the cord out so that it was tight enough that he knew I couldn’t escape and looped it around a large hook up high. I was standing there with my arms stretched out almost above my head and couldn’t move. He looked at me a second as if he were satisfied with his work, then walked away without saying a word. “ALAN!! Get back here and let me go!!” He never even looked back as he left. Picking up the rest of the boxes we had come down there for, he quietly left. I was in a complete panic. All sorts of scenarios ran through my mind. Daryl was on the job somewhere and not expected back until the wee hours of the morning. I wouldn’t even be missed until then. Maybe a policeman would find me during a routine check. Probably not. They were accustomed to seeing me in the building late. What in the world was Alan thinking, leaving me here like this? My situation was short lived. Alan walked back in the door. I sighed and, as much as my bonds would let me, drooped in relief. My relief was premature. On the way back in the building he had turned off the front lights, leaving us alone in the dimly lit back part of the building. “Alan, what are you doing? Where have you been? Let me out of here!” “I went up there to tell them you said for them to go home, that we had it covered. They’re all gone.” There was no excitement or panic in his voice. If he were concerned about the situation, he certainly hid it. “Let me down now, Alan. You know you are already in hot water with me.” “Oh, I don’t think so. If you had said anything I would already have heard about it.” His calmness frightened me. “But what are you doing?” He laughed lightly. “Anything I want, it looks like.” Of all the stupid things to cross my mind, I thought to myself, “Please, please, please don’t let him start tickling me.” Being tickled was not just a funny inconvenience for me, it was a lifetime phobia. I dreaded it more than a broken bone and those around me understood that and stayed away from it. I never thought about it being anything more serious than that. Instead, he walked around me several times, and then tried to give me a kiss on the lips. I turned my head and said, “Stop this right now, Alan. Let me down this second.” My arms were tiring quickly, drawn out like they were. He stood in front of me and looking me straight in the eyes, slowly started to undo my blouse buttons. It was then that I realized just exactly how much trouble I was in. I hung my head in shame, not so much as what was happening but more the fact that I had been so gullible as to let it happen. This was no spur of the moment thing. It had been carefully planned. It took just seconds for my blouse to be opened, exposing my breasts bulging out of a filmy white bra. “Very, very nice.” That’s all he said as he stepped back just a little and admired me. He stepped aside just as I tried to kick him. “That’s not nice,” he said as he stepped to one side of me. My bra clasped in the front and he used one hand to release it. My breasts spilled out as the bra separated to each side and hung there. There were those little tiny patches of white barely covering my nipples standing out against the bronze color of the rest of me. “Wo-o-o-o, Mrs. Miller, have you been wearing a naughty bathing suit?” I turned my head as my face turned red. “Alan, what is it you want. Let me go and I will forget about this.” I wasn’t saying it in a menacing or even a pleading voice, but more one of a promise. He smiled an unnerving, knowing smile, and said,” I have what I want. And I don’t think you are going to forget it.” Being careful to stay clear of my thrashing feet and legs, he stood to one side of me and, watching my eyes follow him, lowered his head to my nipple. I jerked back my body at the contact, dislodging his mouth. “Alan, you can go to jail for a long time for what you’ve done already. Stop now. Don’t make it any worse.” Under the conditions, I was surprised at how calm I was outwardly handling this. Inside, I was churning with fear but I knew I had to be cool. He moved away from me, out of my sight and behind me as I listened to him move about. He reappeared, holding more of the soft cord in his hands. “I was hoping to avoid this, but I think I have to for now. I’m sorry.” I couldn’t believe he was apologizing to me as he reached down and tied my feet together as I fought it. It wasn’t easy for him, but in the end he had me so I couldn’t move. Knowing I had lost my ability to fight back, he moved his head to my breasts again, making little sounds as he now moved freely from one nipple to the other, kissing and sucking on them alternately. At times he would nip at them with his teeth, but it took no time to find that his biggest attraction was to bury his face between them, using his hands to pull them over as if to smother himself in their fullness. I turned my head so that I couldn’t watch. He tried on numerous occasions to kiss me, but I did have control of that, whipping my head side to side to avoid his lips. He settled for my neck, which was open to his whim. He appeared to be in no hurry as he gently massaged and kissed my breast, burying his face at times in them, at others in my neck, his lips busy on my skin. Through all of this, I was really starting to feel the effect of being tied up in this position. Tied in that upward position, my arms were becoming increasingly heavy. My legs didn’t seem to be giving me the support I needed, either. In short, I was starting to feel the fatigue replace the fear. And, of course, I had Alan’s mouth and hands to deal with. I certainly wasn’t open to any pleasure coming from him, but I will have to admit that for his age and the particular situation his hands and mouth were very knowing. The thought passed through my scattered mind that this certainly wasn’t the first time he had been with a woman. His techniques, however unwelcome, showed every sign of the older, experienced men I had been with in my life. After what seemed an eternity, he stepped back. I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe this was over. Instead, he dropped to his knees and very slowly unbuttoned the top of my jeans and slid the zipper down. “Please, Alan. Please, please, please.” That’s all that could come out. “Relax, Mrs. Miller. I would never hurt you.” The reference to me as “Mrs. Miller” in this situation seemed absurd with him taking one of my pants legs in each hand and started a very slow jerking motion downward. If he was trying to make it last, he was doing a superb job. Keeping his face even with the top of my jeans, it took forever before even the tops of my bikini panties came into view. Like my bra, they were no more than a white promise of protection, mere lacy gauze designed with the sole intent of being tantalizingly transparent. Not only did they not hide anything, but were cut extremely low to the top of my mound. Above that, on each side, were the tell-tell white signs of that skimpy thong I wore on the beach. This did not go past him. I was embarrassed even in this complicated moment that he was learning so much about me. “I would love to be on the beach with you. I bet the men fall all over themselves.” He changed his attention from sliding down my jeans to kissing the little white lines, right down to where they hid inside my panties. I had been able to deny any pleasure before, but those constant, soft stimulating kisses just above my mound were starting to be distracting. Again, I subconsciously gave him credit for his ability to touch me in just the right places and at the right time. This certainly wasn’t any action of a clumsy child. Very obviously reluctant to move on, he did anyway. Again, he continued that slow descent with my jeans. He inspected very closely every square inch of my legs as if expecting to find an imperfection, of which I knew were none. Finally, the jeans were in a clump around my ankles. “See, I told you not to worry.” He was apologetic as he reached down and removed the cords from my feet. He wasn’t being altogether cavalier about it; he knew my legs were trapped by my jeans and severely limited any movement. For sure, I couldn’t lash out with them. For some odd reason, my fear had started to subside and I was no longer afraid of any physical danger. I really didn’t know how far he meant to go, but unless I was being just an absolute fool, it didn’t appear that he wanted to hurt me in any way. What were of utmost concern at that point were my quickly tiring arms. My body was starting to ache all over from the uncomfortable and demanding position I was in. “Please let me go, Alan. It’s really starting to hurt.” “I’m sorry. I’ll let you loose as soon as possible.” What did that mean? What did this boy have in mind? What did he think he could do to possibly please me and gain any favor in my mind? I found out. Gently applying pressure with both hands, he spread the inside of my upper thighs as wide as he could with my jeans confining my feet. He looked up at me, smiled, and leaned forward. “No-o-o-o-o, Alan. Please don’t do that.” Of all the things he could have done; beat me, stuck his young cock in me, anything. I’m sure I could have gotten through it without any possibility of participation or enjoyment on my part. But it was almost like he had read a book on my life and had found the secret chapter. When he leaned over and started nibbling the outer lips of my pussy through the thin cloth, I looked down at the top of his young, intruding head and thought, “Please, anything but this. Anything but this.” Totally ignoring my pleas, he began that light nibbling torture and, like everything else he had done so far, went at a very deliberate pace. He moved up and down my panties, kissing me through the cloth with occasional nibbling, then moving all around the top and leg bands with his mouth. I watched off and on, only being able to see the top of his head. Several times he would look up at me, staring straight into my eyes when my eyes were open. They were starting to close more and more often as he drew out his slow attack on my crotch. I don’t care who you are, what situation you are in, or how well you like your partner. There is a point where a soft, knowing mouth in that sensitive area just can’t be ignored! And I was reaching that point with Alan. Even though I was emitting a constant flow of protesting words and telling him how much trouble he was in and that I would forgive him if he let me go, he stayed on his course. If a man had ever spent so much time paying homage to my panties, I couldn’t remember it. It’s as if he thought that if he licked and nibbled them enough they would go away. He was sneaking his tongue under the legs; giving me a preview of what I knew was to come. As if he were being sneaky, he slowly started removing my panties. I was receiving so many kisses and nibbles as he inched them away from my crotch that I almost didn’t feel them come down. Again, as with my jeans, he flooded my legs with touches from his lips and tongue as be slowly lowered them. By the time they dropped from my knees down to the heap around my ankles, I was beginning to writhe around a little from the attention from his mouth. He stood up in front of me. He had remained silent during most of this time, the only sounds from him being heavy breathing and little outburst of appreciation when he found something particularly to his liking. Taking my breasts gently in his palms, he lifted them up as if offering them to himself for kisses, which he did with a relish. I could feel my foot starting to stomp very gently as I tried detracting my senses from his mouth. This was getting to be way more over on the erotic side than I wanted to admit. Welcome or not, there was a very distinct little twitch forming inside my slowly heaving stomach. Was I such an open book? Just as the thought about the feeling in my stomach cleared my mind, he reached down and barely raked across my bare midriff with the tips of his fingers. I was always super sensitive there and my stomach convulsed at the touch. As I jerked my body back, his lips closed on mine. This time I delayed before I turned my head and it became a kiss between two people, no matter how short. He sighed heavily, and then went to my neck again. I let him do it, thinking that his mouth on my neck wouldn’t play such havoc with my senses as when they were on my lips. It wasn’t such a great move on my part. His kisses turned from soft touches and nibbles to gentle biting and sucking, his tongue finding the inside of my ear.