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Hillary:  The Summer of '92 Ch. 01

By: D.C. Roi



Author’s Note: This is a continuation of the story told in “Hillary”, my first submission to Literotica. This part of the story begins the day after Hillary and Mr. Dornier get together and is told from Mr. Dornier’s point of view. It covers the period from when their affair starts until Hillary leaves for school. Additional segments will appear as soon as they’re done. And…once Hillary -- The Summer of ‘92” is completed, “Hillary – The Summer of 2002” will finish the story, told again from Hillary’s perspective. DCR 

Introduction:

In the summer of 1992 I was hired by the local school district to teach make-up classes in several subjects. I never dreamed that a fairly easy summer job would lead to my violating the ethics of the teaching profession and my marriage vows. At the time I was happily married and had been for almost fifteen years.

I was a weekday bachelor that summer. My wife and daughter were at her family’s beach house on the coast of Maine, a tradition in her family but one for which I have no fondness whatever. My wife’s great-grandfather built the beach house and every summer the entire family gathers there for at least a month. Our daughter loves the place, so she and my wife spent both July and August there that summer. Wasting precious summer time in a small house filled with people who, even though related, don’t really like each other is definitely not something I ever wanted to do, so I was more than happy for the offer to teach summer school. I did have to go to Maine on the weekends, but I could force myself to tolerate mys for a couple of days.

Hillary Watson was a student in my English class, there because she hadn’t earned enough credits for her diploma, something she needed to go on to college. An eighteen year-old, she has shoulder-length brown hair worn straight, and “All-American Girl” looks. She probably weighs a hundred thirty pounds, the weight is well distributed, and she dresses in ways that make sure male members of society notice her. That summer she was dating the captain of the football team.

She arrived at my house unannounced one afternoon, hoping to use feminine wiles to accomplish what she hadn’t been able to do with half-hearted attempts at schoolwork, namely get a passing grade in my class and her diploma. She did get both her passing grade and diploma, and she honestly earned both. I don’t think either of us had any idea what impact her visit would have on both of our lives.

If you’ve read the story “Hillary,” you know exactly what happened the day of Hillary’s visit. Without either of us intending it to happen, that visit led to a sexual relationship that lasted for the rest of the summer of 1992.

I thought people who read “Hillary” might want to know what happened for the remainder of the summer because Hillary’s story ended when she left my house the morning following her surprise – and surprising – arrival.

After Hillary left, I stood in my kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee, pondering what I’d done. Now, literally considering my behavior in the light of day, I realized that if what happened at my house the previous afternoon and night became public knowledge, I was in a huge amount of trouble. First of all, I’d lose my job with the school district. I loved working in the field of education. I have both a teaching and an administrative certification, and had been offered the job of assistant principal at the middle school for the fall term. Of course, what had happened between Hillary and me came out, I wouldn’t be getting that job. I wouldn’t even be able to get a custodial job in a school setting.

Even more disturbing was the fact that I’d violated my marriage vows for the first time and had done so without a whole lot of thought. The consequences of my wife’s learning of what I’d done with Hillary were, to me, a far bigger threat than losing my ability to work in a school setting.

I was also worried about the impact on Hillary. She was bright, but not nearly as mature as she thought she was, and she appeared to have far less experience in the world of relationships than I thought she did. If I’d done something to damage her emotionally, that would be horrible.

I will not try to make any excuses for what I did with Hillary. There aren’t any excuses to make. My wife is a beautiful, active, loving, sensual woman. After fifteen years of marriage we enjoy a surprisingly active and creative sex life. I can honestly say there has never been a time in the twenty years I’ve been with my wife – we dated for five years before we married – that our sexual relationship hasn’t been satisfying. I can’t argue that Hillary is more attractive than my wife, either. I happen to think my wife is extremely attractive. My wife also keeps herself in excellent shape and her body is, in my opinion, every bit as fabulous and arousing as it was the first time we made love.

What I did was a complete lapse in judgement, although one that provided me with one of the most exciting days in my life and one of the wildest erotic experiences I ever had. Thinking back on it, I can see it was more than just a grown man taking advantage of a young woman. I honestly can say I believe I gave Hillary at least as much as I received from her. And in doing so I learned that she is a far more remarkable young woman than I first thought.

I’m a big fan of the “Longarm” series of adult western novels. They feature relatively graphic sex, and in one of them the protagonist, Custis Long, who seems to have had sex with at least sixty percent of the female population of the old west, comments that every woman is different. Hillary taught me that Longarm’s observation is right. Believe it or not, my wife is the only woman I ever had sex with until Hillary’s visit. And as I said, our sex life is excellent. But making love with Hillary was different in so many ways. She feels different, she smells different, the sounds she makes are different, the way she acts when she’s aroused is different, and the way she looks when she has an orgasm is different, too. Not better, just different. I admit that the “wrongness” of what Hillary and I did added to the thrill, as did the fact that she is so much younger than I am, and there is the additional element of newness. I knew I should have stopped my relationship with Hillary, that the risk if I didn’t was huge. But…

The Summer of ’92 – Part 1

From Benjamin Dornier’s Journal 

Tuesday, July 14, 1992

Hillary’s class met on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, which gave me a bit of a break. I wasn’t sure how I was going to face her or what it would be like for her to come back to class. I kept thinking about her most of the morning, while I tried to make sure my students did the things they needed to do for successful completion of their summer classes.

As the end of the day drew near, I found myself struggling with conflicting emotions. Hillary had indicated she might make another visit and I’d given her permission to do just that. Part of me was hoping she would come back and was looking forward to her next visit. Another part of me hoped almost as fervently that she didn’t come and didn’t force me to face the challenge of having to decide what to do if she did show up.

When the last of my classes were finished, I got in my car and headed home. The closer I got to my home, the tighter my chest got and the more my heart pounded. I can talk about the debate going on inside me – the debate between my “inner angel” and “inner devil” – as if there was a chance the “inner angel” could have won, but the reality is, there was no chance my “inner angel” would prevail. If Hillary showed up at my house, she and would make love again if she was willing and I had little doubt she would be willing. By the time I turned into the long driveway that leads to my house, my heart was thumping so hard I was starting to wonder if I was going to have a heart attack.

When I reached the end of my driveway and saw Hillary’s car sitting there, I could feel myself getting an erection. I drove in beside her little sporty coupe and she looked over at me and smiled. She does have a lovely smile. Her brown eyes were bright and her face looked a little flushed. It looked as if she was as happy to see me as I was to see her.

I could feel myself shaking as I got out of my car. At the same time, Hillary got out of hers. She waved a sheaf of papers at me. “I worked on the assignment you gave me,” she said. “This is the rough draft. I thought maybe you could look at it for me.”

I grabbed my briefcase, shut the car door, and started walking around the back of my car, heading for my back door. Hillary moved toward the back of her car, too, and we met. We stood there, looking at each other, not saying anything, for what seemed like hours but was probably seconds. Her face was flushed, as was mine. She was breathing hard and her lips – so soft and wonderful to kiss – were slightly parted. I know I was breathing hard, too.

“Ah…why…why don’t we go inside,” I stammered.

“Um, OK,” Hillary agreed, nodding. She turned and started for the house.

She had on a bright yellow cotton tank top with spaghetti straps and a pair of dark brown pants, or leggings, or something made of a stretchy fabric that clung to her wonderfully formed bottom and left nothing to the imagination. The top was short and a band of her silky smooth skin was displayed between it and her pants. The fact that I couldn’t see either panty lines or the outline of a bra made my erection lurch. I stood stock still for a few seconds, watching the wonderful movements her bottom made as she walked. After a few steps she must have realized I wasn’t following because she stopped, turned and looked at me.

I took a stiff step toward her, she took a step toward me. I heard a thud as my briefcase fell from my hands and I think I saw the papers she was holding flutter to the ground. Then we were in each other’s arms, our lips were pressed together and our tongues were lashing. My body immediately began filling with delectable feelings and, of course, I had a powerful physical reaction which Hillary, with her body pressed against mine, could not possibly have ignored. Feelings more wild and uncontrollable than I’d felt in ages roared through me as we continued to cling to each other and kiss there on the lawn behind my house. I clutched her marvelous bottom, encased in surprisingly soft fabric, against me while she grabbed my head and her body strained against mine.

At some point I slid my hands up, under her top, onto her bare back and she groaned into my mouth. She kind of arched her back then and, while still keeping her mouth locked to mine, started fumbling at the buttons on my shirt. If it occurred to either of us that we were outside, under the sun, that didn’t affect our behavior. All I can remember is a jumbled image of clothes coming off, my hands on her warm, silken skin, and her hands and fingers tearing at my clothing and having it disappear from my body.

The next thing I’m sure of is an image of Hillary, gloriously nude, lying on the grass next to the sidewalk in my front yard, her arms lifted toward me, a wild look on her face. I lowered myself down onto her and as I did, I felt her reach between us, grab my erection, and guide it toward the opening both of us wanted it to enter. She emitted a soft, passionate, moan as my erection began sliding into her snug, warm opening, a sound I think I echoed. I was more aroused, and overwhelmed by desire, than I’d ever been in my life.

“Oh, yeahhh!” I heard Hillary cry as I sank into her. Her hands clutched my bottom and I could feel her fingers digging in, pulling me against her. Waves of wonderful feelings coursed up through me, filling my body. I can honestly say I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a woman more, before or since.

“Oh, God!” I cried in response when I felt my pubic bone hit hers. The fact that we were copulating wildly on my lawn, in broad daylight, never occurred to me or, apparently, to Hillary.

“Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah!” Hillary chanted when I started thrusting into her. My movements were a lot more frantic than I’m used to, but I couldn’t help myself. I’ve spoken about making love with Hillary, and we did that, but what happened on my lawn that afternoon was nothing more than lust, pure, unfettered lust. We were two animals in heat, desperate for satisfaction.

I felt my insides coiling tighter and tighter, and the intensity of my feelings increased. I knew I couldn’t hold back much longer. “I…Oh, God, Hillary…I…I can’t wait!” I groaned. My body lunged against hers, making her shake, causing her to gasp. It was as if I was trying to drive her into the ground in my search for satisfaction.

“Don’t wait! God, please, don’t wait!” she cried back, locking her legs behind mine, rocking her hips up against mine, twisting them, turning them in a movement I can’t possibly describe. “Take me! Oh, God, please! Take me!”

I can only wonder what the animals thought of the sounds we made when, at last, we sated the intense need both of us were feeling. I felt the fluids pumping from my body, felt her body clasping mine in reply, and we strained against each other, as if each of us was trying to get inside the other’s skin, to become one. And, in the midst of the overwhelming feelings that flashed through me, I somehow knew there was no way I could stop seeing Hillary if she wanted to continue seeing me.

Finally, after a wonderful eternity, we began to calm down. I was holding as much of my weight off Hillary as I could. At last I rolled onto my side, pulled my lovely young companion into my arms, and cuddled her as we both returned to earth from the rocket ride of passion we had just shared.

“That…that was so awesome!” Hillary exclaimed, sounding more than a little breathless.

“Awesome is a wonderful word for it,” I replied, and kissed her gently.

“Oh, God,” she sighed and buried her face in my chest. I ran my fingers up and down her back, keeping my touch as light as I could. I knew she loved that. She shuddered a little and tried to burrow even tighter into my embrace.

I had calmed enough to be very aware that we were lying naked in my yard in the late afternoon. It wasn’t likely that someone would show up, and even if someone did drive up, we’d hear them soon enough to get inside, but…well, getting indoors just seemed like a good idea.

“Hey,” I said softly, my fingers still trailing up and down over her skin, raising goose bumps.

“What?” she asked, her voice muffled against my chest.

“Would you like to go inside?” I responded.

“Oh, God!” Hillary exclaimed. “I…I forgot.” She sat up suddenly, causing some of her body parts to exhibit extremely enjoyable movements. “Jeezum! We…” she turned bright red and began grabbing at her clothes.

“Whoa,” I said, pulling her into my arms and kissing her. “Let’s go in. I’ll get my bathrobe on and come out and get our stuff.”

“Ah…OK,” she said.

We got up and went indoors. I got my bathrobe and another for Hillary and we went back out and picked up our clothes and other stuff. While we were doing that, we didn’t say much. When we were again in the house, Hillary settled herself on the sofa with her legs folded under her. I sat down near her. She gazed at me, her eyes wide, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “That was the most intense sex I ever had,” she said softly, in a voice filled with awe.

“It was the most intense sex I ever had, too,” I admitted.

She looked surprised. “Really?”

I nodded. “Really.”

“It was…it was…I felt like I was going crazy,” she said.

“Me, too,” I admitted. “It’s a little scary, isn’t it? Being that out of control.”

“It sure is,” she agreed. Then she smiled and giggled. “It sure was awesome sex, though, wasn’t it?”

“It certainly was.”

“You ever do anything like that before?” she asked. “Have sex outdoors, I mean.”

I nodded. “I’ve had sex outdoors,” I told her, “but it wasn’t even remotely like that.”

She shook her head a little, hugged herself, then she looked at me again with a much more serious look on her face. “I…I couldn’t stop thinking about you…and us…all day,” she told me.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, either,” I said.

That seemed to surprise her. “You…you couldn’t?”

I shook my head.

“You…you were thinking about…about having sex with me?” she said softly.

I shook my head. She looked puzzled and a little hurt. “I wasn’t thinking about having sex with you,” I told her. “I was thinking about making love with you.”

Her face lit up with that pretty smile. “Oh,” she said.

“You said you wanted me to read your first draft?” I said. I was interested in seeing what her paper was like.

“Ah…yeah, I…I did,” she said. “I’ll get it.” She got up, walked over to where I’d set my briefcase, her papers, and our clothes, picked up the papers she’d brought with her, brought them back, and handed them to me.

“Hey!” she said when I pulled her down onto my lap. She caught on pretty quick, though, and turned her head for a kiss.

“I needed that before I started reading,” I told her.

“You are weird,” she giggled. She slid off my lap and took a position on the sofa next to me, watching me intently while I read.

The paper wasn’t bad, but she’d tried too hard to make it sound scholarly. Every once in a while, bits of Hillary peeked through, but mostly the language was stiff, reflecting how uncomfortable she was using it.

“Well…” she said when I finished. “Is…is it what you wanted?”

“Yes and no,” I told her.

She looked hurt. “What’s wrong with it?”

“There isn’t enough Hillary in it,” I said.

Her face kind of scrunched up in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Here,” I said, “This is an example of Hillary.” I pointed to a particular passage and read it, “I could feel my heart start to pound and my chest tightened a little. What was he doing? I knew I shouldn’t be letting him touch me, but all he’d done was touch my hair. What harm was there in that, right? And he did say I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to do. I mean, he was a teacher in our school, he was married and he had a daughter. He wasn’t some creep who’d hurt me. And as weird as this probably sounds, having him play with my hair felt good.”

I looked at her and could see she didn’t understand. “What did that sound like to you?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I dunno, I don’t get what you mean.”

“It sounds just like you were telling me the story, not writing it,” I explained. “It sounds real. You are explaining what you were thinking and someone reading that can almost feel you thoughts.”

“But my grammar isn’t right,” she said.

“Most English teachers hate to admit it, but sometimes a piece sounds better if the grammar isn’t perfect,” I explained.

“Oh,” she said. “I think I get it. You want me to write just like I talk, is that it?”

I smiled, nodded, and said, “Exactly.”

“But how do I do that?” she asked. “I mean, when I start to write, it doesn’t come out the same way as when I talk.”

“Well,” I said, “you could tell the story out loud, then write down what you said.”

She giggled. “Yeah, sure, I’m going to sit there in my room, at my computer, talking to myself, then writing down what I say. That’s weird.”

“Who’s going to see you?” I asked. “Your folks aren’t home, right?”

“Ah…yeah, I guess,” she said.

I had a thought. “Just a minute, I think I know a way you can do it that might not seem so weird to you.” I got up, went into my office, and found a little voice actuated recorder I’d bought years ago, but never used any more. Fortunately I had some new batteries, so I put those in, then I dug out a half-dozen or so tapes. I took the tape recorder out, sat back down on the sofa. I showed the recorder to Hillary. “Here,” I said. “You can tell your story into the recorder, then play it back and write it down.” I laid the recorder and tapes on the coffee table that sat in front of the sofa.


Hillary:  The Summer of '92 Ch. 01



Hillary still looked puzzled. “How come you’re doing all this for me?” she asked.

I shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure,” I told her. I grinned. “I guess I have to admit I started out wanting to outsmart you.”

She looked even more puzzled. “Outsmart me?” she asked.

I nodded. “You came here yesterday thinking you were going to either charm me, or maybe pressure me, into giving you a passing grade, didn’t you?”

Hillary’s face reddened. “Ah…well…um…OK, yeah…I…that’s right, but…”

“I know,” I said, “it didn’t exactly work out the way you thought it would.”

“Jeezum! You can say that again!” she exclaimed.

“Well, I really didn’t intend for things to go as far as they did, either,” I admitted.

Hillary frowned. “Are…are you sorry that we…um…you know…”

I shook my head. “No, I’m not sorry, not in the least,” I told her. “Yesterday was one of the most fantastic days I’ve ever had in my life.” I chuckled. “Well, maybe, with the exception of today.”

Hillary blushed bright red.

“What makes yesterday even more wonderful,” I went on, “is that I learned that you are quite a remarkable young woman.”

She looked as if she wasn’t quite sure how I meant that comment.

“I wasn’t just talking about sex,” I explained. “I was talking about the kind of person you seem to be.”

“But there isn’t anything special about me,” she replied, still looking puzzled. “I mean, I’m just a regular girl. I’m…I’m not even all that pretty.”

“That isn’t true, not at all,” I pointed out quickly. “I happen to think you’re very attractive. And I also think you have an attractive personality.”

“But…but how could you know that?” she asked. “I mean, you only know me from school and…and from yesterday.”

“True,” I said, nodding. “And I will admit that a lot of your behavior in school isn’t terribly admirable. But there are things…”

“Like what?” she asked.

“I know you are in a mentoring program, working with disadvantaged kids,” I said.

“Well, yeah, OK,” she said. “But I don’t do much else.”

“And yesterday once we got started, you seemed to want to give back to me just as much as I was trying to give you,” I said. “That certainly isn’t the behavior of a selfish, uncaring person.”

“OK, I guess I understand,” she said. “You really think I’m special?” She looked at me very carefully after she said it.

“Yes,” I said. “I do.”

“Wow,” she said softly. It surprised me to see that her eyes had teared up a little. “I…I don’t think…nobody’s ever said that to me and…and meant it the way you do. I…I can see that in your eyes.”

“Someone should have, a long time ago,” I replied.

She got up, stepped astride my legs, and lowered herself onto my lap. Of course doing that caused her robe to open, which meant her bare buttocks were resting on my bare thighs. That, of course, caused my body to respond. I could feel my penis beginning to stiffen. She leaned forward and pressed her soft lips against mine. The kiss was gentle and caring, but rapidly heated up until our mouths were open, our tongues were toying with each other, and our entire bodies were responding.

Hillary slid her hand inside my robe and began tickling my chest and teasing my nipples. That sent little pin-pricks of exquisite pleasure racing through me. I could hear myself gasp and feel a tremor go through my body each time her fingers slid over my erect nipples. I slipped my hand inside her robe and returned the favor, cupping her lovely firm breasts and rubbing my thumbs over her nipples, which felt like little pebbles.

My nipples weren’t the only parts of my body that had gotten hard. The other part jutted up between us, throbbing, and I could feel it rubbing against Hillary’s vagina. I was pretty turned on and I was extremely busy caressing her breasts and kissing her, but I think I may have started rocking my hips, because I do recall that it felt as if something was caressing my erection. Of course, she may have been moving her hips, or maybe both of us were.

Then, without putting an end to our kissing, she did something that surprised me a little. Our lips were still locked, and out tongues were still lashing when I felt her fingers wrapping around my erection. I felt her body move upward – somehow she managed to keep the kiss going – then I felt her body sink and warmth and wetness engulfed first the head, then the entirety, of my swollen penis.

“Nnnngggaahhh!” I moaned into her mouth. I slid my hands down and onto her bottom, clutching her against me, and started rocking my hips gently. I could feel Hillary’s hips rocking in response.

We kept kissing and rocking our hips slowly, sharing an experience that was both gentle and loving, yet had an undercurrent of fervency and need. Our hands roamed over our bodies while our lips and tongues caressed. Occasionally one or the other of us would groan, or moan, or shudder with the ecstasy we felt. I’d never experienced anything quite like it. I was spiraling upward toward my peak like an eagle soaring on warm air currents, gliding steadily and slowly upward. It was as if we could keep doing what we were doing for days before we came. I could feel Hillary’s muscles moving under her silky skin while waves of incredible pleasure ebbed and flowed between us through the spot where our bodies were joined.

As wonderful as what we were doing felt, and as much as I wanted it to keep going forever, that wasn’t to be, nor could it be. Our movements, and the sounds we made while doing them, became more and more feverish and frantic. Instead of caressing each other, we were now clutching each other desperately. And instead of a gentle rocking movement, our hips were moving so quickly I could hear our bodies slapping.

We weren’t making coherent noises. I was no longer capable of making sensible sounds and I’m pretty sure Hillary wasn’t either. The sounds coming from us were feral, sounds coming from deep in our souls, sounds evoked by the deep passion and pleasure we were sharing.

Hillary’s arms were around my neck and I was clutching her rapidly rocking bottom when I felt her stiffen and quiver. “Ohhhhhhahhhhhhhuhhhhhhhh!!!!” she screamed and her arms tightened so much around my neck that I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to keep breathing. But seconds later I didn’t care because I was making the same kinds of sounds she was and my body was quivering just as hard as hers while my juices gushed from my pulsing erection deep into her body.

Afterward we lay on the sofa, calming. I had fallen back and she was laying on top of me. I was still holding her bottom and my penis, still semi-hard, remained in her. Little ripples of joy raced through us occasionally, causing one or the other of us to shiver when they did. Her face was buried in my neck and her soft hair caressed my lips.

After we laid like that for a few minutes, I felt her take a deep breath, then she put her hands on my shoulders, lifted herself a little, bent her head, and planted a loving kiss on my lips. “That was so awesome!” she said when the kiss ended. “For a while there I never wanted us to stop.”

“Me, too,” I said. “See what I mean about what a remarkable woman you are.”

Hillary blushed and shook her head. “No I’m not,” she said.

I gave her buttocks a squeeze. “Yes you are,” I said. “And I’m going to keep telling you that you are until you believe me.”

“OK,” she said, giggling. “I…I gotta go pee.” She lifted herself off me, causing my nearly soft penis to finally slide out of her, and headed for the bathroom.

I sat there on the sofa in the now-empty room, still stunned by the strength of the feelings I had for Hillary. I reminded myself how wrong my relationship with her was, and how much damage I was doing to myself, my marriage, and her; but I wasn’t really listening to those warnings. She was almost like a drug, a powerful drug I was addicted to and couldn’t live without. I admitted to myself that I would probably continue to see Hillary as long as I could, damn the consequences.

I stood up and looked around the living room, then decided I could stand something to eat. “Hey, want some dinner?” I called to Hillary.

“Yeah, I could stand something to eat,” she yelled back.

“I’ll be out in the kitchen,” I advised her and headed in that direction. I’d been so distracted by my thoughts of her that I hadn’t restocked with groceries, something I’d have to do soon. I checked the freezer and found about three-quarters of a quiche Lorraine I’d made a week or so earlier.

Hillary walked into the kitchen. “What are you making?” she asked.

“I don’t have much,” I said. “Do you like quiche?”

She shrugged. “I don’t think I ever had any,” she told me. “What is it?”

“I have quiche Lorraine. It’s a mixture of eggs, bacon, and cheese, baked in a pie crust.”

“I’ll try it,” she said. “Can I help with anything?”

“If you want to make a salad, there’s a head of lettuce and some carrots in the refrigerator and some tomatoes over on the counter,” I said.

“OK,” Hillary said, “I think I can manage that. You have a bowl to put it in?”

“In the cupboard next to the refrigerator,” I said.

I put the quiche in the microwave, set the timer, and started it. Hillary was busy cutting things up for the salad. I got out napkins, plates, salad bowls, glasses, and silverware and set the table. “Do you like iced tea?” I inquired.

“Iced tea is OK,” Hillary replied. “As long as it’s diet.”

“That’s all I have,” I told her. I mixed up a batch of diet peach flavored iced tea, put some ice cubes in each of our glasses, then filled them with tea.

Next I moved to the refrigerator. “What kind of dressing do you like?” I asked.

“What have you got?”

“Honey Dijon, Russian, and Ranch,” I said. “All diet.”

“I like honey Dijon,” Hillary said.

I do, too. I took the salad dressing bottle out and put it on the table.

The buzzer on the microwave sounded, signaling that the quiche should be done. I checked the center, just to be safe. It was done. “Salad ready?” I asked Hillary.

“It is,” she said. She carried the bowl full of salad to the table and set it down.

I cut the quiche into six pieces, then I carried it to the table and set it down and sat down myself.

Hillary took some salad, then she took a slice of quiche, cut off a small piece, and forked it into her mouth. She chewed it carefully, then she smiled. “Hey, this is good,” she told me. “Did you make this?”

I nodded. “It isn’t all that hard to make,” I said. “I’m good at following directions.”

“Do you cook a lot?” she asked.

I nodded. “I probably cook more than most men,” I responded. “I like cooking. And I like baking, too.”

“Wow, my dad doesn’t cook,” she said. “Well, he does hamburgers and steaks and stuff on the gas grille, but he doesn’t cook stuff like this.” She cut off a bigger pieced of quiche with her fork and put it in her mouth.

“Some of the best chefs in the world are men,” I said.

“Yeah, I know,” Hillary said after she’d chewed and swallowed her quiche. “But a lot of guys still think cooking is women’s work, don’t they?”

“The concept that there are ‘men’s’ and ‘women’s’ jobs seems to be dying out, doesn’t it?” I noted.

“Sorta,” Hillary said. “I mean, there aren’t a lot of jobs that are just for either men or women any more, are there?”

“Not really,” I said. “When I was in high school, most of the teachers were men. Except for the librarian, home economics teacher, and the teachers in the secretarial courses. Even the shorthand teacher was male.”

“What’s shorthand?” Hillary asked.

“It was a way of taking dictation that’s been wiped out by the advent of computers and electronic recording,” I explained.

“Oh,” she said, putting another forkful of quiche into her mouth.

Conversation was suspended for a time while both of us ate. Hillary did comment on how good the quiche was at one point, but neither of us said much else.

“Do you really like teaching?” Hillary asked after we’d finished eating.

“Most of the time,” I said. “It’s like anything else, it has good points and bad ones, but mainly I enjoy it.”

“How come you were just subbing?” she inquired.

“It was the only job open when we moved to town,” I said. “I’ve been offered the assistant principal’s position at the middle school for next year.”

“You have? Awesome,” Hillary said. “You’ll be a whole lot better than old crabby Brillstein was.”

I laughed because Hillary was right about the man I was replacing. Amos Brillstein had retired from the position I was taking after a thirty year career in education, twenty of it as assistant principal of the middle school. The “Peter Principal” says that people in any organization rise to their highest level of incompetence and Amos certainly had done that. Over his tenure he applied for the principal’s job every time it became open, which it did on at least five occasions. And, fortunately for the school, the superintendent and school board passed him over for far more competent candidates each time. From what other faculty members and staff have told me, he became more and more bitter after each failure to advance. I had a suspicion he must have understood his limitations, because he never once applied for a job outside this school district. His were the shoes I was stepping into when school opened in the fall. I’d subbed in the middle school a lot and was excited about what the principal and I, working as a team for the first time in twenty years, would be able to accomplish.

Hillary looked puzzled. “How come you’re grinning like that?” she asked.

“Mostly because you described Mr. Brillstein pretty accurately,” I said.

“How come he was such a grouch?” she asked.

I got up and started to clear the table. Hillary got up and helped me. “I didn’t know him that well,” I said. “But I always had the feeling he was a very unhappy man.”

“If he wasn’t happy, why didn’t he get a different job?” she asked.

“That can be easier than it sounds,” I explained. “He may have had what he thought were good reasons for staying here in town. Maybe he was afraid he couldn’t get a job anywhere else, so he kept what he had.”

Hillary shook her head sadly. “Man, I hope I never get stuck in a job I hate,” she said. “That has to suck. No wonder he was a pain in the ass.” The minute she said that, her eyes widened and her face turned red. “I…I’m sorry, I…”

I laughed. “He was a pain in the ass,” I said.

We rinsed off the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, then we stood there, looking at each other, caught in an awkward moment between two people who had been incredibly intimate, but hardly knew each other.

“Ah…I’ll do some grocery shopping tomorrow, so we…um…won’t have to have leftovers for dinner again,” I stammered. I felt my face heating up when I realized my statement assumed Hillary would be at my house for dinner the next night.

“I can cook, too,” she said, “I mean, you don’t have to do it all.”

Her response thrilled me. She did plan to come back the next night. I still wasn’t quite sure where all of this was heading, and at that point I didn’t care. All that mattered was the moment. I’d never in my life felt like that.

“We’ll see,” I told her. “What would you like to do now?”

She shrugged.

“Want to watch TV?” I asked.

“I suppose,” she said softly.

We went back into the living room, turned on the TV, and sat next to each other on the sofa watching for a while, saying little. I can’t tell you what was on, I honestly don’t remember. All I remember is the powerful sexual tension that seemed to begin the minute we were in the living room.

“You aren’t really interested in this, are you?” I asked after a while.

Hillary looked at me and shook her head.

“Would you like to go to bed?” I asked. My heart was pounding and my chest felt tight.

She smiled shyly at me and nodded.

I shut off the TV, we got up, and I took Hillary’s hand and led her into the spare bedroom. I stood there, next to the bed, looking at the lovely young teenager standing in front of me, wrapped in the bathrobe I’d given her earlier.

“This…this…I never dreamed anything like this would…” she stammered. She stood there, trembling ever so slightly.

“I think it’s wonderful,” I said. I carefully untied the belt holding the robe shut, then I slid my hands under the robe, over Hillary’s silky warm skin, and around behind her. As I did, the robe slid down over her shoulders, clinging to her as if it didn’t really want to leave her, the terry cloth garment finally settled into a puddle of cloth on the floor at her feet.

Our first lovemaking session that afternoon had been all passion and fire. The second was calmer and wonderful in a totally different way. I gazed at the lovely young woman standing in front of me, blushing slightly, as I could. She shuddered and moaned slightly. Her nipples were already erect, dark pink buds jutting from her firm, wonderfully formed breasts. I wasn’t sure whether her breasts or bottom were her best attributes.

I bent, covered her mouth with mine and could feel her tongue lashing my lips. She slid her hands between us, opened my robe, and I felt her warm body pressing against mine. My erection was trapped between us. Her arms locked around me, just as mine had locked around her, while we stood there, sharing yet another passionate kiss. When the kiss ended, we slid under the covers and, immediately, she came into my arms, pressing her lovely form against me, her lips seeking mine. Her hand slipped between our bodies and grasped my erect penis.

“You really want me again, don’t you?” she murmured after the kiss ended.

“I always want you,” I replied, my throat tight. “You’re like a drug I can’t live without.”

“Good,” she replied softly, stroking my erection gently. “I love that.”

I bent and nibbled on her nipples for a brief time, licking them, suckling them, and even chewing them lightly, enjoying a chorus of soft moans and quivers while I did. While I did that, she kept hold of my erection, sliding her hand gently up and down, massaging the fluids seeping from the tip into the side of the rigid fleshy tube.

“Take me now,” she murmured softly, tugging on me gently. “I…I don’t wanna wait any more. I…I need you. Now.”

I had thought of taking my time, but found I wanted her just as ardently as she seemed to want me. I pushed her over onto her back, and slid over her. My knees were between her legs and I was holding myself up off her on outstretched arms. The whole time, she continued clutching my erect penis, as if she never wanted to let it go. When I was in position, I began lowering my hips. She guided my erection to her waiting opening, making sure the tip was in the right position, then she sighed gratefully when it began sliding into her.

I kept moving slowly, savoring the delectable sensations that swept through me as my erect organ penetrated into Hillary’s lovely young body. I looked down at her face and marveled at the look of bliss that formed on it as I filled her.

“Yesssss!” she hissed, clutching at my buttocks. “Oh, God, yes! That feels so awesome!”

I slowed down my entry even more, moving into her a centimeter at a time, experiencing the wonderful clasping of her snug, warm opening as I did. There definitely is something to be said for slow, gentle lovemaking.

Soon our pubic bones were pressed together. Hillary lifted her legs and locked them behind mine, then her fingers dug into my bottom and she began gently rocking her hips, shoving up against me. “Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Oh, yes!” she murmured softly as her motions caused my embedded organ to rub against her insides, showering both of us with wonderful feelings.

I lifted my hips, pulling my erection slowly from her. “Ohhhhhhhh!” she moaned softly, a tinge of disappointment in her voice. I pulled out until only the tip remained in her, then I slowly slid back into that warm, comforting, place. “Yesssssssss!” she hissed as I did.




Hillary:  The Summer of '92 Ch. 01



I repeated the slow process of sliding almost all the way out, then shoving all the way back into her and she repeated her passionate, “Ohhhhhhhh! Yesssssssss!” as I did. Since she seemed to enjoy it, I kept doing it, savoring the way it felt to be moving in and out of her clinging opening and the movements and sounds she made in response. I wished I could have kept it up for ever, but it was such a wonderful experience I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it up for too long. After a few minutes, I bent and shared a passionate kiss with her. “I’m not going to be able to keep this up much longer,” I warned her. “It…it feels too…Oh, God…too good!”

“Don’t wait!” she replied ardently, digging her fingers into my butt even more. “Take me! Please! Oh, God, please take me!”

There was no way I could refuse such a passionate request, and I really didn’t want to. I speeded up my movements and felt the spring of delight coil tighter and tighter inside me. Hillary’s cries grew louder and more fervent, then mine joined hers in a duet of passion as we exploded into bliss together. Our bodies were locked together, straining, twisting, and seeking all the joy each could possibly get while my fluids were pumped into her yet again.

“Oh, God!” Hillary gasped wearily as she lay in my arms after we’d expended ourselves. “It’s…it’s always awesome!”

“It is, isn’t it?” I agreed.

She snuggled tighter into the circle of my arms while I reached out and turned off the bedside light. Then, exhausted, we fell asleep, locked in each other’s arms.



Hillary: The Summer of '92 Ch. 02



Part 2: Benjamin Dornier's Journal

Wednesday, July 15, 1992

I awoke the next morning with my body pressed against Hillary's, spoon-fashion. I love being in that situation with a woman and my body immediately responded as it always does. The fact that my erection was poking her in the butt was something Hillary took notice of right away.

"Ah...are...are you awake?" she murmured. She'd already begun rocking her hips, causing her buttocks to caress my stiffening erection, making it slide deeper into the cleft between them.

"I'm getting more and more awake by the minute," I replied.

She giggled. "Yeah, I can tell. Wow. You have to be the horniest guy in the world. Are you always like this?"

I was now moving my hips, too, making my erection slide in and out of the lovely warm trap it was in. It wasn't quite as good as being in her vagina, but it was damn close.

"Um...it depends on whether you're complaining or not," I responded. I slid my hand down onto one of her breasts and began teasing her nipple.

"Uhhhh!" she moaned, shuddering. She laid her hand on mine, the one I was teasing her nipple with. "I...no way am I complaining."

"My answer to your question is that I've been this horny since the day before yesterday," I said.

"Oh," she said softly. Her hips were rocking steadily now and I'd teased her nipple into full rigidity. Between the two of us we'd produced enough lubrication to allow my erection to glide easily between her buttocks. "God that feels so neat," she murmured.

"It does, doesn't it?" I said. I had an idea, something I've always wanted to try with my wife, but one of the few things she's resisted, for reasons I've never been sure of. "You want to try something different?" I continued.

"Ah...what?" Hillary asked.

"See if you can make yourself cum," I said.

"You mean play with myself?" she asked, sounding surprised.

"Yeah, while we're doing this," I said. "I want to feel you cum while I'm up against you like this."

"Ah...OK...I...I guess," she said hesitantly. Her hand left mine and before long, I felt her part her legs a bit, to give her hand access to her vagina. As she began to caress herself, her body started a rhythmic movement.

"Mmmmm!" I heard her soft moan after a few moments. "Ahhh! Mmmmm!" she began to move her hips more actively. The motions were having a fantastic effect on me. It was a pretty good simulation of intercourse. I could feel the tip of my erection rubbing against her vaginal lips, and other parts of her middle as the movement of her hips grew more and more frantic the more she caressed herself.

"Mmmmmm! Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah! Mmmmmm!" Passionate sounds were coming from Hillary in an unending stream and the movement of her hips was so frenetic it was almost as if she was having convulsions.

"Yeahhh! Oh, God, yeahhhhhh!! Yeahhhhhh! Oh, yeahhhhhh!" she screamed at last, jamming her quivering hips back against my middle, tightening her legs around my erection. I realized she was coming and it took all of the self-control I had to keep from joining her, but somehow I managed not to cum even though I desperately wanted to.

Hillary barely had begun coming down from her orgasmic state when I slid my hand down, hooked her leg back over mine, then managed to shove my pulsing erection into her with a frantic movement of my hips.

"Oh, God! Ohhhhh!" she cried as I slid deep into her.

I would have preferred to take my time and slowly build her back to another orgasm, but I was so turned on that was impossible. Clutching her hip, I began shoving myself into her, and as I did I could feel the pulsations deep inside my body that announced I was starting to cum. Powerful jets of my hot sperm shot deep into Hillary's body. "Unnnngggghhhhh!" I grunted, jamming my crotch against her bottom, clutching her tightly against me.

"Ohhhaaaaahhhhh!! Oh, God, againnnnnnnn! Oh, God, I'm cummming again! You're making me cum againnnn!" Hillary screamed. Her hand grabbed at mine and her hips resumed the convulsive movements that had barely calmed.

Spent, we laid there on the bed, still in the spooning position, until we got our breath back.

"God, that was unreal!" Hillary gasped. She was still breathless. "I...I wasn't sure I was ever gonna stop cumming for a while there."

"It really was fantastic, wasn't it?" I said.

She slid away from me a little, rolled so she was facing me, then snuggled against me again, giving me a kiss as she did. "How come you wanted me to...you know...play with myself like that?"

I shrugged. "I don't know exactly," I told her. "I love watching and hearing you when you're having an orgasm. It's hard to describe how wonderful that is. And being connected to you like that, from the rear, I love that, too."

She laid there, looking at me, not saying anything for a few moments. I could see she was struggling with her thoughts. Finally she took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "Ah...did...is that...what we did...is that something you...ah...you and your...you know...your wife...ah...do?" she asked finally.

"I've never done that before with anyone," I told her.

Her eyes brightened. "Oh," she said.

"You know, young lady, we should be getting up and getting ready for school," I said. "If the teacher and one of the students are both late, people might talk."

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Six thirty," I told her.

"Six thirty?" she said, her eyes widening. "Class doesn't start until nine. We have plenty of time."

"True, but what if we get distracted in the shower or something?" I asked, trying to keep a serious look on my face.

Hillary giggled, a really wonderful sound. "You are totally nuts, you know that?" she chuckled.

"Maybe so," I said, "but I'm not taking any chances on being late for class, and you better not, either." I gave her a gentle, playful swat on the bottom.

"Yeah, OK," she said. "God, I hate getting up this early."

"Really?" I said. "You seemed pretty excited about being awake at this hour a little while ago."

Hillary blushed. "You know what I mean," she said.

We got out of bed, managed to take a shower together without it descending into another love-making episode, and got dressed. I insisted that Hillary eat breakfast before she left to go home and get changed for school, although she did complain she never ate breakfast.

"It's the most important meal of the day," I told her.

"You sound like my mother," she complained.

"Your mother's right," I countered.

"Yeah, sure."

She did eat some cereal and fruit, though, and had a glass of milk before she left. I walked her to the door and she gave me a fond kiss. "See you in school," she said, then she turned and headed out to her car.

"See you in school." Her words caused me more than a little discomfort. How was I going to manage being in the same room with her without my feelings for her being obvious? Could I be that good an actor? It appeared that I would have to be.

Hillary was the last of my students to arrive, although she was on time. She had on a red sleeveless sweater that buttoned down the front, had frilly accents the same color of the sweater, and stretched wonderfully over her breasts. She also had on a pair of black slacks that looked very soft and weren't as snug as the ones she often wore. When she first walked into the classroom I found it a hard to keep myself from visualizing what was under those garments.

I managed to refocus myself and, by not looking at Hillary any more than I had to, got a discussion going with the three young men who were in the class with her. Unlike Hillary, who was in the makeup class because she chose not to use her intelligence, the three boys were there because they really had a difficult time understanding things. In an attempt to enhance their interest, I was having them read western stories written by Louis L'Amour. So far, it seemed to be working - at least for the boys. We opened class with discussions of reading assignments from the previous class every day. Up to now it was clear from their level of participation that the boys had been reading the stories I assigned. Hillary, on the other hand, had previously given little evidence of having any knowledge of - or interest in - the reading assignments.

Just moments after our discussion about the most recent story - about a man abandoned in the desert without water or food by a vindictive rancher - started, Hillary made it clear she not only had read the story, she enjoyed it. This seemed to surprise the boys in the class, who'd gotten used to conducting the discussion with me while she sat there looking bored.

When Hillary joined the discussion, her three classmates were so surprised they said little for a few minutes, but they finally got over their surprise and the class wound up being one of the most enjoyable I'd had during the summer session. The class time went by quickly and, before any of us knew it, end of class arrived.

I assigned the first five chapters of the book Conagher for their next assignment. "It has the usual L'Amour strong male protagonist," I noted. "But it also has a very strong female protagonist as well. When you're reading it, try to imagine what it was like for a woman in those days."

The four of them stood up and began leaving the room. Hillary made it a point to be the last one out. After the boys were out of sight, she turned, smiled, and winked at me. "See you later," she mouthed, then she was gone. For the first time since she'd walked into my classroom, I relaxed. Well, sort of.

My afternoon class, in European History, dragged. I was beginning to think the school clocks had broken and I'd be stuck there forever. When, the class was finally over, I hurriedly packed up my stuff, went out to my car, and headed for the grocery store. I was pretty much out of food at home and needed to restock, even if it meant I'd have to wait a bit longer before I saw Hillary.

I moved up and down the aisles of the grocery store, picking up items I needed and the fact that I was doing something I'd done many times before with my wife and daughter seemed to turn my thoughts away to what I'd be doing to what I'd done. When I considered the fact that I was actively violating my marriage vows and the ethics of the teaching profession by having sex with a student, I felt extremely uncomfortable and ashamed. The weekend, when I had to go to the seacoast to spend time with my family, wasn't that far away. I hadn't really given a lot of thought to how I'd face my wife and daughter, mainly because doing so caused me to feel a lot of guilt and shame.

Then there was the issue of making love with my wife. As I've said, she and I have a very active sex life. Would I be able to make love with her? If I could, would she know I'd made love with someone else? What if we tried to make love and I wasn't able to? This whole guilt and anxiety ridden line of thinking, which I couldn't ignore, had me pretty down in the dumps by the time I got to the checkout.

"You look miserable," commented the woman at the checkout. Her name was Naomi Smithers and we knew each other because during the school year she was employed as a teacher's aide at the Middle School. She also knew my wife and daughter were away for the summer. "Being a bachelor isn't all it's cracked up to be, is it?"

"I'm surviving, I guess," I replied. I dug my debit card out of my wallet and swiped it through the car reader on the counter.

"I understand you're first choice to replace Brillstein," she continued.

"That's what I understand," I replied, punching the keys necessary to make the electronic fund transfer necessary to settle my bill.

"I'm glad he's going to be out of there," she continued as she bagged my groceries. "I think it will be a much happier and brighter place."

I placed the bags of groceries in the cart as she filled them. "I hope so," I said. "See you later," I noted when all of my purchase was in the cart.

"Take care," she replied, turned, and began checking out the next customer.

As I pushed the cart with the groceries in it out to my car it occurred to me that Naomi had treated me just as she always did when we saw each other in school. She'd misunderstood why I was looking down in the dumps, too. Apparently there was no outward evidence of my transgressions, even if it felt as though there was.

I loaded the groceries in the trunk of my car, put the shopping cart in the cart corral, then got in the car and headed home. As I got nearer and nearer to my house I noticed that the feelings of recrimination I was having were beginning to fade, their place taken by rapidly growing feelings of anticipation.

My heart was pounding and I could feel my penis begin to stiffen when I turned into my driveway. However, all of my anticipation disappeared when I drove around to the back of my house and Hillary's car wasn't there. In milliseconds I went from feelings of near-elation to something akin to despair. Where was she? Had she finally come to her senses and decided to go back to her summer activities with her friends? Had her boyfriend returned from wherever he'd been? I knew there was probably a rational, reasonable explanation, but none came to me. My emotions were all over the map as I got the groceries out of the car and lugged them into the house. I knew I was acting like a petulant teenager having a temper tantrum as I slammed things around, but I couldn't stop myself. What was wrong with me?

All of the groceries were away and I was folding the bags to put in the storage closet when I heard a car race up my driveway and stop behind my house. I went through another almost instantaneous mood change, back to anticipation, and stood there in the kitchen of my home, waiting, hoping fervently that Hillary would soon come through the door.

And she did. She was still wearing the outfit she had on in class, and she was carrying a sheaf of papers and a small backpack. She was a little out of breath and her face was flushed. I thought it made her look even prettier. "I...I'm sorry I was so late," she gasped. "I...um...I worked on my assignment, then I got started reading that book you want us to read and..." she stopped and looked at me carefully. "I had to pack some stuff, too. You aren't upset because I'm late, are you?"

"Of course not," I lied. "I had to stop and get some groceries anyhow. I just finished putting them away."

"OK," she said. "I was hoping you wouldn't be pissed at me." She set her backpack down and laid the sheaf of papers on the kitchen table.

"There is no way I could be," I replied. I took a step toward her, held my arms out, and she stepped into them. She slid her arms around my waist and I slid mine around hers, then I bent my head, pressed my lips against her warm soft ones. All the fear and anxiety I'd been feeling was swept out of me by a rush of delight. After a few seconds we both opened our mouths and our tongues began lashing. Wonderful feelings surged through my body. I was all right now, I was going to have my Hillary fix.

I've always loved kissing, but there seemed to be something special about kissing Hillary. I didn't want to stop once I started, nor did it seem as if she did. I slid my hands down and cupped her firm young bottom through the soft fabric of her slacks. I felt her hands move, then she slid them between us and began unbuttoning my shirt. When she had the shirt open, she began working on my belt, then the clasp at the waist of my pants. Soon my slacks hung open, too. Seconds later I felt my them slide down.

"Mmmmmnnn!" I groaned into Hillary's mouth when she pulled down my underpants and her warm hand wrapped around my erect penis. I was surprised and aroused by the fact that she was being so aggressive. I was totally stunned by what she did next. One second she was kissing me and stroking my erection with her hand, then she was no longer kissing me and had disappeared from my view. Between her kisses and what she was doing to my erection with her hand, I was in a bit of a delightful fog, so I wasn't able to focus right away.

"Unnnnahhh!" I moaned when warmth and wetness surrounded my erect penis. Hillary had apparently dropped to her knees and taken me in her mouth. While she caressed my pulsing erection with her lips and tongue, her hands stole lightly over my buttocks and thighs and she even managed to tickle my testicles. It is impossible to find words to describe how wonderful it felt. My legs went wobbly and I could feel myself trembling. Hillary's lips and tongue continued to torture me, as did her fingers. She seemed to have mastered the light touch I loved using on her.

After suckling me for a little while, she let me slide out of her mouth and began licking my erection, caressing it with her tongue, actually. And at the same time she had her fingers wrapped around it and was sliding her hand up and down. Her other hand was wandering over my bottom and legs with a very light, teasing touch. Each time she'd hit a particularly sensitive spot, I'd shudder and groan. I didn't have any choice, it felt way too good. And, even though she quickly had my mind fogged over with lust, I realized there was a pattern to what she was doing. Once she discovered spots that evoked a particularly fervent reaction from me, she visited them over and over, but between those fantastic visits she gave me time to settle down. In fact, she was teasing me the way I had teased her when I was eating her. That realization sent an added rush of delight through me.

I knew I'd fall down if things kept going the way they were, and it sure didn't look as if she had any intention of stopping. Carefully I backed up and sank onto the arm of the overstuffed chair right behind me. Hillary shuffled along with me on her knees, never losing contact, never ceasing the actions that were causing me overwhelming rushes of incredible sensations.

After she'd teased me to the point where I was no longer coherent, she took my erection back in her mouth and began moving her head up and down, literally fucking me with her mouth. I could feel my insides tightening, knew I wouldn't be able to keep from exploding for much longer, and felt I should warn my lovely young companion. "Oh...God...Ahhhhhh!...Hillary...I...I'm...I'm gonna...I'm gonna cum if...if you don't...don't stop!" I managed to croak through nearly unbearable explosions of delight.

Hillary didn't stop. In fact her actions became more fervent. Her hands clasped my buttocks and squeezed them and her tongue continued to lash against my erect penis while her head moved up and down even more rapidly. What little self-control vanished instants later and I let loose a frantic groan when I felt my effluent surging up through my pulsing erection, and gushing into her mouth.

I was sure she'd spit me out the minute I started coming and was shocked when that didn't happen. Instead, she kept me in her mouth and may have been moaning while I erupted. I was experiencing so much ecstasy I couldn't focus enough to hear, but I could feel vibrations on my penis that could have come from her moans. And she appeared to be swallowing the juices I pumped into her. Even after I'd stopped coming she kept licking and sucking on me, continuing to nurse me gently while my penis started to soften and shrink. That caused me such exquisite pleasure it bordered on pain.

At last she let my now-soft penis slide from her mouth and sat back on her heels, looking up at me. Her lips were red and wet looking, her eyes were filled with questions. "You...you aren't...you know...mad at me for...you know...doing that, are you?" she asked hesitantly.

I slid off the chair onto my knees, facing her, and pulled her into my arms. She buried her face against my chest. "Mad at you?" I replied. "How in the world could I be angry with someone who did something so wonderful for me?"




Hillary: The Summer of '92 Ch. 02



"Are...are you sure?" she asked, her voice sounding muffled.

"Hillary, that was one of the most fantastic experiences I've ever had," I told her. "It was unbelievable. Are...are you all right?"

I could feel her nodding against my chest. "I...I wasn't sure I could do it," she said, her voice soft. "Not...not all the way, anyhow. And I...I almost stopped when...when you said you were gonna cum, but...I didn't because...because I probably couldn't have finished if I had."

"Hillary, you don't have to do anything to or with me you don't want to do," I explained.

She leaned back in my arms and looked at me. "I...I know that," she said. "But I wanted to do it. I've been thinking about it for a couple of days. I mean, you did it to me and it felt so fantastic..."

"Just because I do something for you doesn't mean you're obligated to do it for me," I said.

She nodded. "I know, but I really did want to do it. I mean, kinda, because part of me kinda didn't want to do it, either." She shook her head a little. "I mean...Jeezum...I wanted to do it, but I was afraid what would happen when you...you know...when you came in my mouth." She looked at me carefully. "Was it really good for you or are you just saying that?" she asked.

I think I surprised her when I pulled her close and gave her a kiss. I could taste myself on her lips. "It was, as you so often say, 'awesome'," I told her. "It really was."

"Neat," she replied, hugging me tightly. "I really wanted it to be great for you."

"What about you?" I asked.

She gave me a funny look. "You're gonna think this is weird," she said softly.

"I'm going to think what is weird?"

"When I was...you know...when I was...ah...giving you that...um...blow job, I..."

"You what?" I asked softly, running my fingers lightly up her back and feeling her shudder a little under my touch.

"Um...I...ah...I had an...um...orgasm, too."

"You did?" I replied, surprised.

She leaned back in my arms and looked up at me. "Is...is that weird...I mean for something like that to happen?" she asked fearfully.

I smiled and shook my head. "I...I don't think so," I told her. "I never heard of anything like that happening, but I'm not surprised to hear that it did."

"So it doesn't mean I'm some kind of sex freak or anything, then?" she continued.

"I'd say it means you are a totally normal young woman with a totally normal and healthy sex drive," I told her.

She tightened her arms around me, burrowed her face against my chest, and kissed me. "Good," I heard her muffled voice say.

She finally backed out of my arms. "I gotta go to the bathroom," she said softly. Her eyes roamed downward and a pretty grin formed. "You oughta see yourself," she giggled.

I felt myself blushing because I knew was standing there - leaning against the sofa, really - naked from the waist down with my pants tangled around my ankles. "I don't make fun of the way you dress," I chuckled.

"Yeah, because I don't dress funny," she giggled. She turned and headed down the hall to the bathroom. I pulled my pants up and got my clothes a bit straighter than they were, then I headed for the kitchen and began putting together the ingredients for dinner. I got out four medium sized potatoes, washed them, punched holes with them with a fork, and put them on a plate to put in the microwave. Then I dumped one of the packages of hamburger I'd bought earlier into a large bowl.

Hillary walked into the kitchen. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Getting dinner together," I replied. "I hope you like meatloaf."

"Sure," she said. "I'm not real fussy about what I eat." She sat down in a chair next to the table and watched while I dumped ketchup, some milk, an egg, and some corn flake crumbs into the bowl with the hamburger and began mixing it with my hands. "I never liked making meatloaf because your hands get all yukky," she commented, making a sour face.

"Yeah, but if you do it right, the yukkiness is worth it," I said. "Meatloaf happens to be my all-time favorite meal."

"You're kidding, right?" she giggled. "I mean there are loads of things better than meatloaf."

"So you say," I retorted. "That just means you haven't had my meatloaf yet."

"Yeah, sure," she said. "You want me to help with anything?"

I shook my head. "Some of the salad you made the other night is in the refrigerator, and I've already got the potatoes ready to go in the microwave." Having mixed the meatloaf ingredients thoroughly, I placed them in a loaf pan, then I spread some barbecue sauce on top and laid a few strips of bacon on top of that. The next step was to put the meatloaf in the pre-heated oven, which I did.

"How long is that going to take?" Hillary asked.

"About an hour, hour and a half," I said.

"What are we going to do while it cooks?" she asked, grinning.

"Did you do any more work on your assignment?" I asked.

Hillary made a pouty face I could tell wasn't sincere and said, "Yeah, I did. You want to read it?"

"It will give me a chance to rebuild my strength," I said. "Your...ah...greeting pretty much wore me out."

My comment got a very attractive blush from Hillary.

"Where is it?" I asked.

"In there," she replied, making a gesture toward the living room with her head.

"Let's go see how much you've improved it," I said as I walked into the living room alongside Hillary. I sat down on the sofa.

"OK," she said. She got the papers she'd brought with her, brought them over and handed them to me, and curled up on the sofa next to me.

She seemed to be getting the idea I'd wanted her to get. She'd changed the first few pages so they sounded a lot more like a teenage girl talking instead of a student trying to write a scholarly paper. That was exactly the effect I wanted, even though it meant violating just about every rule of grammar in existence.

I looked at her and smiled after I'd finished reading. "This is exactly the way I wanted it to sound," I told her and watched her beam with pride as I did. "It reads almost exactly as if you were saying it. Keep using that style for the rest of the paper."

"OK," she said. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," I said.

"How come you're using those Louis L'Amour books instead of the books they usually use in English?"

I shrugged. "Partly it's because I really like Louis L'Amour. I have every book he's ever written and I think I've read all of them at least a dozen times."

"No kidding?" she said, looking surprised.

"I also think he's an excellent story teller," I continued. "And I think he does a better job of telling what things were really like during the time periods he writes about than history books do. Think about Conagher. What kind of life did the woman in that book have?"

"Pretty sucky, really," Hillary replied. "Jeezum, her father died and she didn't have any money, so she winds up married to a guy she doesn't love, going out in the wilderness. I mean, it was almost like she was a babysitter or something, not really a wife."

I chuckled. "Louis L'Amour didn't write much about sex, but I have to assume she was expected to do her...ah... wifely duties for her husband. How did she handle all that?"

Hillary shrugged. "Ah...well...after her husband...after he left, she got really lonely and started pinning those poems to the tumbleweeds, didn't she?"

I nodded. "Did she complain?" I asked.

Hillary sat there looking thoughtful. "Ah...no...um...not really. She just did what she needed to do. I mean, then those guys from the stage line came along and..."

"Exactly," I said. "She found herself in a tough spot, but she made the best of it, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Hillary said. "Still, I sure wouldn't want to live like that. I don't think I could do the stuff she did."

I smiled at her. "I'm not sure you're right," I told her. "I think you might be surprised. I have a feeling you have, in Louis L'Amour's words, 'a lot of sand'."

Hillary looked surprised. "You really think so?"

I nodded. "Yes, I do. I believe you can do anything you want to do, as long as you put your mind to it. Look at what you've accomplished in the last few days."

Hillary giggled. "Yeah...it's been wild."

I could feel my face getting hot. "Ah...that isn't exactly what I was talking about," I said. "I...I meant the work you've been doing on your school work. You did a great job during discussion in class today and the paper you're writing will be incredible once you've finished it."

It was Hillary's turn to blush. "OK, if you say so," she said softly. "You...you think I could be a teacher...like you?"

"Is that what you want to be?" I asked, a little surprised. I'd heard reports that she actually did quite well in the program that involved mentoring younger students, but I'd also heard about her reputation for putting her social life ahead of her schoolwork.

She shrugged. "I...I don't know. I...ah...I never really thought a lot about it, I guess. I mean, the only reason I'm going to the college I'm going to is because my dad had pull and got me in."

"It actually has a very good reputation," I told her. "If you really do want to be a teacher, they certainly can help you. What brought this on?"

"I don't know, exactly, I guess it's being in that mentoring program, and seeing the way you work with kids, including me, I guess."

"Teachers don't make a lot of money," I pointed out.

"I used to think that was a big thing, I'm not so sure any more," she said, sounding surprisingly mature. "Maybe it's better to do something you really like doing instead of trying to make all kinds of money and doing something you hate - like Mr. Brillstein."

I smiled and nodded. "Maybe," I said.

Hillary sat there, legs folded under her, lost in thought for a few moments. I wasn't sure how long her interest in teaching would last, but she did have the ability, if she was willing to work hard enough when she got to college.

"You've been spending a lot of time here," I said. "Don't you miss your friends?"

Hillary shook her head. "Not really," she said. She giggled. "I'm having a whole lot more fun than they are."

"But don't they think it's weird that you stopped hanging out with them?" I asked. I was afraid that if her friends got suspicious, they might try to find out why, suddenly, she'd dropped out of her social circle.

"A couple of them asked what was up," she said. She grinned at me, her eyes twinkling. "I told them it was because you were being a real jerk and giving me all kinds of assignments."

"Oh," I said. "A real jerk, huh?" I tried to look hurt but I don't think I pulled it off because she giggled at me.

"Oh, come on," she said. "You know that's not what I think about you." She slid over so she was sitting on my lap and slid her arms around my neck.

Of course, the minute her lovely bottom settled on my lap, my body began to respond. The fact that she giggled softly told me she felt my response. "See, your body knows how I feel about you," she whispered. Her eyes widened and softened and her face started moving toward mine. Then our lips joined, our mouths opened, and we dissolved into a passionate kiss. My arms slid around her waist while hers tightened around my neck. And, of course, my response to her bottom being on my lap became even more pronounced. I'd never, in my entire life, been as randy as I'd been since my affair with Hillary began. Actually, I never thought I had even a fraction of the capacity for randiness that I'd discovered with her.

Wonderful, thrilling, exciting, incredible, astonishing, amazing, extraordinary, staggering, mind-blowing, staggering, mind-boggling, and fantastic are all descriptive words that could be used to explain how I felt when I kissed Hillary, but none of them comes close to accurately describe the powerful sensations that suffused my body as we kissed. My heart began pounding, my breath became more rapid, and every one of my nerves was highly attuned to receiving inputs of pleasure.

I slid my hands from Hillary's back, slipped them between us, and began unbuttoning the sleeveless sweater she was wearing. That took me just seconds, then I began running my fingers over her upper chest and the part of her breasts not covered by her lacy bra. She moaned into my mouth and shuddered a little. I slid my hands around to her back, undid the clasp holding her bra closed, then slid them back to her chest and cupped her now-freed breasts against my palms. I got another impassioned moan and another more noticeable shudder in response.

We kept kissing for a while longer, but both of us seemed to realize we weren't going to be able to progress much beyond kissing as long as she was sitting on my lap on the sofa. I don't know who moved first, but the next thing I knew, Hillary was sliding off my lap, then both of us stood up and began shedding our clothes as quickly as we could.

Hillary won our disrobing contest. She was lying on the sofa, totally and wonderfully nude, while I was still shedding my pants. I'd kicked off my shoes, but still had my socks on. A microsecond's debate about whether to take them off or leave them on wound up with me getting on the sofa, between Hillary's legs, with my feet clad in socks. I leaned forward, stretching my body over hers, holding myself above her on out-stretched arms. She gazed up at me, her eyes filled with passion and need while I lowered my hips and was surprised to feel the tip of my erection bury itself between her dewy vaginal lips.

"Yessss!" she hissed avidly as I lowered myself, burying my rigid penis deep inside her. "Oh, God, I need you so bad! I always need you bad!" She lifted her legs and locked them behind mine while at the same time she clasped my buttocks in her hands and hauled on me, as if she was trying to drag all of me inside her body. "Take me! Oh, shit! Take me!" she groaned. She began to rock her hips wildly. I could feel my hard organ lashing around inside her, rubbing the walls of her vagina. Remember what I said about not being able to describe the pleasure I felt before? Well, this was even better.

I looked down into Hillary's lust-glazed eyes as I shoved myself deep into her. We were literally joined into the legendary "beast with two backs" while our bodies strained and struggled, attempting to reach the apex of pleasure. Neither of us was making coherent sounds any more, although we were making plenty of noise. Grunts, groans, moans, and hisses issued from both of us as we ground our bodies together. I managed to bend my head down far enough to allow me to suck one of Hillary's nipples between my lips.

"Ngggahhhhhh!" she wailed when I began lashing the rigid fleshy bud with my tongue. "Gahhhhhh! Nnnnnahhhhh!" Her fingers dug into my bottom and her already frantic hip movements grew even more so. I knew she'd have her orgasm soon and realized I was just as close.

Then it happened. A kaleidoscope of sensations and brilliant lights began exploding behind my tightly closed eyes while intense feelings of ecstasy raced through my body. I could feel my insides working, and my fluids rushing up through me and jetting into Hillary.

Spent and gasping once we finished, we clung to each other for a few moments. Finally, when I was at last able to move, I straightened my arms, lifted my upper body up off Hillary, and looked down at her. She smiled up at me. "That was, as you always say, 'awesome';" I told her.

She rocked her hips a little, causing a delightful little burst of pleasure to shoot up through me from our still-joined hips. "It was, wasn't it?" she replied. "Making love with you is always awesome."

I lowered myself and we kissed gently, then I pushed myself up again. I knew I should get up and let her up, but I found myself not wanting to lose contact with her. My erection continued softening, however, and eventually slithered out of her. She giggled when it did. "That tickled," she chortled. "Can you let me up, I gotta go to the bathroom?"

"Of course," I said. I slid off her and got to my feet. She got up and headed down the hallway. Just as she did, the timer on the stove went off. Talk about timing. I got my bathrobe and headed for the kitchen. I turned off the oven, opened the oven door and left it ajar. Then I turned on stove to cook the vegetables and put the potatoes in the microwave to cook. After that I got out the salad and some salad dressing and set the table. I'd just finished when Hillary, wearing the white terrycloth bathrobe that had unofficially become hers over the past couple of days, walked into the kitchen.

"You should have waited, I'd have helped set the table," she said.

"No problem," I said. "It's my turn to use the bathroom. If the timer goes off, turn off the veggies on the stove and get the potatoes out of the microwave."

"OK," Hillary said.

I was back long before the timer sounded, so both of us put the food on the table once it was done cooking, then we sat down to eat.

Hillary took a potato, some of the mixed vegetables I'd made, and some salad. Then she cut off a slab of meatloaf and laid that on her plate. She cut a piece off with her fork, then put it in her mouth. I could see the look of pleasure forming while she ate it. "Oh, wow!" she exclaimed after she'd swallowed. "That's the best meatloaf I ever ate."

"See, I told you so, didn't I?" I replied.

"Yeah, you did."

Both of us were hungry and ate without saying much more than "Pass the potatoes," or "Can I have the salad dressing," stuff like that. After we finished, Hillary helped me clear the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher.

"I have to do some laundry," I told Hillary. "You can watch TV if you like."

She giggled. "I can't believe you do laundry," she said. "I don't think my father even knows how to turn the washing machine on."

"You learn to do what you have to do in order to survive," I told her. "This place would fill up with dirty clothes and bedding if I didn't do the laundry once in a while." I swatted her fondly on the bottom. "Especially the laundry, the way somebody has been helping me mess it up."

"Hey, you started all that," she responded, laughing.

"I guess I did, didn't I?" I admitted.

"If you want, I'll help you with the laundry," she said.

"I never turn down help with things I really don't like doing," I told her.

Hillary helped me strip and re-make the bed in the bedroom we had been using. Then she carried the bedding to the laundry room while I carried the hamper holding my dirty clothes and the towels and washcloths we'd been using. Apparently she'd helped her mother do laundry, because she immediately began sorting the clothes into "dark," "light," and "white" piles.

"Since we're doing wash anyhow, is there anything you need washed?" I asked as we sorted the clothes.

Hillary grinned and shook her head.

After the clothes were sorted into the proper piles, I put a load of white wash in the washer, added soap, bleach, and fabric softener, then turned the machine on.

"I've never seen a washing machine like that before, except in a laundromat once," Hillary said.

A few months earlier our washer had died and I bought a tumbler-type washer to replace it, mainly because the salesperson told me it used less water and was easier on the clothes. "It's supposed to be the latest thing in washers. The sales clerk who sold it to me said it used less water and soap," I said. "And the video that came with it says it's easier on clothing, too."

"Oh," Hillary said. "It's really quiet."

"Except when it spins," I said. "Then it sounds a little like a jet."

We stood there, watching the washer, experiencing a bit of a clumsy moment. It emphasized, for me at least, that despite how easily we seemed to get along some of the time, the relationship between Hillary and me was different. Two people who live together learn to share chores and keep busy. In a way, Hillary and I had been simulating living together for a few days. The discomfort we both seemed to be feeling as the washing machine did it's thing came out of the fact that there was no way to characterize our relationship except to say that it was wrong.




Hillary: The Summer of '92 Ch. 02



The machine started the spin cycle.

"Oh, wow, you weren't kidding, it does sound like a jet," Hillary exclaimed.

I'm not sure what made me do it, but I grabbed her around the waist and, as she squealed and giggled, sat her on top of the whirring, vibrating washer.

"What...what are you doing?" she exclaimed as I dropped to my knees on a pile of wash on the floor in front of the washer. Keeling between her legs, I spread her bathrobe apart, then I started kissing the inside of her thighs. "Oh, God!" I heard her murmur. She clasped my head and held it as I began kissing and licking my way from her knees toward the point where her legs and body joined. "Oh, yessss!"

Her skin was so marvelously soft and silky. And so warm, too. I loved kissing it and, even more, I loved how quickly she dissolved into a state of desire when I did. I moved up her legs quite rapidly and soon was nuzzling the bottom of her belly with my nose and licking the top of her vagina, the spot where her clit was located.

"Nnnnnnahhhh!" she groaned and the grip she had on my head tightened. "Yeah! Oh, yeah!" She hunched her hips forward and laid her legs on my shoulders, giving me superb access to her already-dripping vagina. I kept licking her clit until, by the sounds she was making, I knew she was close to coming, then I kissed her belly and the insides of her upper thighs while she calmed. Under her, the washing machine was back to the tumbling action, probably rinsing the clothes.

After she'd calmed a little, I stiffened my tongue and dragged it from the base of her vagina, up between her labia, and over her clit. "Unnnhhh!" she grunted, jolting. Again her grip on my head tightened. I repeated the action and evoked another grunt and jolt. Since she obviously liked it, I did it again. And, of course, she grunted and jolted again.

About then, the washer started into the final spin cycle. I'd been teasing Hillary, holding her at the brink of coming, waiting for this. I laid the tip of my tongue lightly against her clit just as the machine started spinning and vibrating. The washer's vibrations made it unnecessary for me to move my tongue at all. Above me I could hear Hillary changing, "Oh, God! Oh, God! That feels so gooood! Oh, God! Oh, God!" The longer the spin cycle went on, the louder she groaned and the tighter her grip on my head became. I knew the spin cycle had to end soon, and wanted her to finish before the washer did so, I slid two fingers up into her while I kept my tongue against her clit.

"Gnnnnahhhh!" she wailed. Her scream of delight switched to huffing sounds, then back to moans. I wasn't prepared for how strong she was so she did manage to drag my face into her crotch, and make my tongue press against her rocking, twisting middle with much more pressure that I'd been using before. The frantic movements of her hips also drew my fingers all the way up into her and I could feel her vaginal walls spasming around them. The washing machine had long since stopped by the time she'd finished with her orgasm and had begun to calm down.

"Jeezum!" she exclaimed, "I never knew doing the laundry could be that much fun."

"Me, either," I replied. I helped her down off the washing machine and got a fervent kiss and hug for my troubles - and probably for a few other reasons, too.

We finished the laundry without Hillary having any more orgasms, but I have to admit neither of us did very well at keeping our hands to ourselves. Because of that we were both pretty turned on by the time we finally finished the laundry and went to bed. Love-making was the obvious way to relieve our "stress", and I think we relieved it pretty darn well.

Hillary fell asleep almost immediately after we finished our love-making. I laid there, gazing at her lovely face, even lovelier relaxed in sleep. As I did, questions started creeping into my mind. What had I done to my marriage? What had I done to Hillary? What did I really feel for her? Was it lust or was it...? I finally fell asleep with my mind trying to convince itself that there really wasn't anything wrong with what I was doing.



Hillary: The Summer of '92 Ch. 03



From Benjamin Dornier's Journal

Thursday, July 15, 1992

I was having the most incredible dream. Somebody, I wasn't sure who at first, was giving me one heck of a blow job. She was licking my penis as avidly as if it was a stick of peppermint and peppermint was her favorite thing in the entire world and had me hard as a rock. I laid there, savoring the wonderful sensations I was feeling as my dream-lover's soft tongue slid from the base of my erection, to the tip, swirled around, then went back down to the base. An unending stream of intense feelings of delight poured through me and I could hear myself groaning, just as if I was awake. The magical tantalizing tongue trailed back up to the arrow-shaped head of my cock and teased it, even poking into the little opening there, licking off the pre-cum that was seeping from me. Whoever was doing this to me sure knew what she was doing.

I heard myself groaning again when soft, warm hands cupped my balls and began teasing them. That tantalizing tongue traveled down toward the base of my erection, then soft lips were kissing and toying with my balls. I felt my hips jolt and heard an even louder groan that had to come from me. I'd never, ever, experienced a dream like this one before. Then it hit me that, in fact, I wasn't dreaming at all. I opened my eyes and saw that the person causing me such exquisite feelings wasn't a dream person at all. It was Hillary Watson, my gorgeous young lover. She was kneeling next to my hips, bending over me, and doing all those wonderful things to me.

I reached down and trailed my fingers down over her lovely curved back. She twisted around a little so she could look at me and I could see the twinkle in her eyes. Her hand still cupped my balls and her tongue was still lovingly caressing my erect penis. I let my fingers trail down over one of her firm, well-formed buttocks and on down the back of her thigh. In doing so, my fingers teased the puffy, silken lips of her vagina, wet and slippery with the juices of her arousal. My caress evoked a soft moan from her, which was transferred to me through her tongue.

She lifted her head and, bright-eyed, smiled at me. "Awesome, you're awake!" "Ah...you were making it pretty darn impossible for me to sleep," I groaned. She wasn't licking me right then, but her fingers were toying with me and that felt pretty darn good, too.

"Since you're finally awake..." She shifted position, so she was kneeling across my legs, then she lifted up, shuffled forward, and began lowering herself. As she sank down on me, I could see her face changed. It's hard to exactly describe the look that formed as my erection into her except to say that I imagine it was as close to a look of pure bliss as one could see, an angelic smile on a pretty face flushed with need. Her lovely eyes were filled with yearning and fervor. "Oh, God, that feels so awesome!" she purred as her hips settled against me.

"Ah...yeah...it sure does!" I agreed. I reached up and cupped a lovely firm breast in each hand, then I began rubbing my thumbs over her rigid nipples.

"Jeezum!" Hillary exclaimed, shuddering. "I love it when you do that!" She leaned forward, placed her hands on my shoulders, and began raising and lowering her hips slowly.

"I love it when you do that!" I told her. I tried to lay still, to let her do the work, but my body wouldn't let me. She continued to rise and fall on me, maintaining a deliberate pace and, before long, my hips were moving, keeping tempo with her motions. I couldn't help it I was still toying with her nipples and I could tell she was getting more and more aroused because of the flush spreading from her face down over her chest. The fact that she was uttering soft moans and gasps was additional evidence of how turned on she was.

I finally released one of her breasts and lifted my head to take the nipple in my mouth.

"Oh, Godddddddd!" she groaned. Her hips began moving more actively. She now kept her middle pressed against mine while she rocked her hips. The way our bodies were pressed together ensured that her clit got a lot of contact, which caused an extremely rapid elevation of her level of arousal. An unending stream of passionate noises poured from her and, looking up at her, I could see that her eyes had lost focus. She was going to cum soon, and so was I.

"Oh, yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeahhhhhhh!" she groaned at last. Her fingers dug into my shoulders and her body went into a series of shudders that were almost convulsions.

I realized I was making the same kind of feral noises she was and, at the same time, my body exploded into a whirling, exploding world of ecstasy and my hot fluids once again jetted into her.

When she finally passed her peak, Hillary collapsed onto my chest and laid there for quite a while, gasping, getting her breathing back under control. "Oh God, making love with you is always so damn good," she whispered. "I can't believe it."

"It is wonderful, isn't it?" I agreed, wrapping my arms around her. After a while we got up and got baths, again managing to do so without winding up making love again, although there was some temptation to do just that. Hillary had brought a change of clothes with her. "To make sure I'm not late for class," she giggled.

I made breakfast for us, Spanish omelets, and we ate them without much in the way of serious conversation. We did talk a little bit about the assignment I'd given for the next class, however. Hillary, it seemed, was very interested in seeing what her three male classmates would have to say about the passage I'd assigned for them to read because it was the first one in which a woman played a prominent role.

"Those guys are all male chauvinists," she sniffed as we ate. "Maybe they are," I said. "You'll have to wait and see. Maybe they'll surprise you., Remember, you surprised me."

"I doubt it," she said. "I've seen the way they are with girls."

"Just give them a chance," I said.

"Yeah, OK," she replied.

While I cleaned up after breakfast, she went back to the living room and re-read the assignment. Would wonders never cease? I thought about pointing out that she'd changed quite a bit in a few days, which might mean the boys could, too, but decided not to.

It also occurred to me that I was becoming far too comfortable having Hillary here in my home - and in my bed. Our relationship had no future and was fraught with risks for both of us. And, to add to my discomfort, I also realized that since it was Thursday, it could very well be the last time she could spend the night. I was headed for the seacoast - and my family - after class on Friday and her parents were due home. I doubted that she'd be able to spend the night at my place once her parents returned home. Then, like the cherry on my sundae of recriminations, it also occurred to me that her boyfriend would be back this weekend as well.

"You look kind of down in the dumps," Hillary said, startling me. I glanced over and saw her standing in the kitchen doorway. "What's the matter?"

I shook my head. "Nothing, really, just thinking about everything I have to do today. I mean, I have a class this morning, then I have meetings about my new job this afternoon..."

She walked over, put her arms around my waist, hugged me, and gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek. "Why don't I make dinner tonight?" she said. "Then you don't have to worry about that, anyhow."

"Ah...OK...ah...sure," I said.

We exchanged kisses, almost like an old married couple, then Hillary went out, got in her car, and headed off down my driveway. I waited about a half-hour, then I headed for school. Knowing I wouldn't be seeing her in school made the day both easier and harder, but I managed to get through it. My distraction over my affair with Hillary didn't keep me from enjoying working on plans for the up-coming school year with the Middle School principal, my new boss. If I could keep my affair secret, I could wind up having a great school year.

I had time to think driving to work and decided that Hillary and I needed to talk. I needed to tell her that our affair was just that, an affair, and that there was no future relationship in the offing. I love my wife and I don't intend to leave her for Hillary and I believe Hillary needs to know that, or at least hear me say it. The sick thing was that I don't think I can give Hillary up, either, even though I know it would be best for her, and for me.

On the way back to the house - and Hillary - after work, I found myself thinking about another problem I faced. How well I would handle facing my wife and daughter when I saw them this weekend? Clearly nobody else had noticed anything different about me - OK, the woman I knew at the supermarket noticed I was a little down, but nobody else - which meant I was doing a pretty good job of hiding the inner turmoil I felt about my relationship with Hillary. On the other hand, none of the people I'd been dealing with this week knew me anywhere near as well as my wife did. She could see - and sense - things about me nobody else could. How could I keep my secret from my wife? Or could I?

I set aside my rumination when I turned into my driveway. Hillary had promised to make dinner for me. Just thinking about her pushed all of the worrisome thoughts aside - for now. And, as it had every day this week, it started things happening in my body. After a day of "withdrawal" from her I was almost home and the "fix" for my "addiction" would be waiting for me.

I parked my car next to Hillary's and, my heart pounding, got out and headed into the house. A wave of delightful smells greeted me as I walked through the door. I put my briefcase down in the usual spot, hung my jacket in the hall closet, and headed for the kitchen. Hillary was there, wearing a snug-fitting peach colored cotton short-sleeved top and equally snug-fitting blue jeans. A strip of bare midriff showed between the top and jeans. She was busy stirring something cooking in a pot on the stove and apparently hadn't heard me come in. Taking care to be as quiet as I could, I made my way across the kitchen and, when I was standing directly behind Hillary, I grabbed her waist and said, "What's for dinner?"

"Eeeyahhh!" she yelled. She jumped backward, bumping into me, and almost knocked both of us over. When Hillary finally realized it was me, she punched me on the arm and said, "You scared the heck out of me, sneaking up on me like that."

"Sorry," I said. "What are you making? It smells wonderful."

She grinned at me. "I made a chicken and rice casserole," she explained. "It's in the oven. Should be done in a few minutes. That..." She gestured over her shoulder toward the pot on the stove, the one she'd been stirring. "...is glazed carrots."

"Well, it sure smells good," I replied.

"Why don't you set the table while I finish this up?" Hillary said.

"OK," I said, and did just that.

By the time I'd finished setting the table, the meal was ready, so we sat down and ate.

"Wow, this is as good as it smells," I said after I forked my first helping of casserole into my mouth.

Hillary smiled and blushed, clearly pleased by my praise.

"You're quite a cook," I continued, watching her face get even redder.

"Ah...I...um...I told you I could cook, didn't I?" she responded, acting surprisingly shy.

"You sure did...and you sure can," I said. "Have you been here all day getting dinner ready?"

Hillary giggled. "Of course not. I went home and worked on that 'assignment' you gave me, then I read the reading assignment again, well, actually I finished the book. I like the way he writes."

"I'm glad you're being so studious," I told her after I'd eaten some more of the delicious casserole and also some of the glazed carrots, which were at least as good as the casserole. "You know, they made a movie out of Conagher," I said.

"No kidding?" Hillary replied.

"It was just a TV movie," I explained. "Sam Elliot played Conagher and his wife, Katharine Ross, plays Edie."

"I think Sam Elliot is so sexy," Hillary responded. "I'm not sure why, either. I mean, it isn't like he's this real stud or anything, but..."

"Want to watch the movie after we eat?" I asked. "I have a copy of it."

"Sure," Hillary said.

It occurred to me that our interactions today were very "domestic" for want of a better word. We were pretty much acting the way my wife and I do when she's home and not the way Hillary and I had acted the previous few nights, which was like a pair of sex-starved animals. I wasn't exactly sure what to make of the change. Neither was I sure whether it was a good thing or bad thing that it had taken place.

We finished eating and began clearing the table. At one point, Hillary had bent over to put something in the dishwasher and, at the same time, I was taking a dish to the sink to rinse and wasn't watching where I was going, so I bumped into her very lovely bottom. "Sorry," I apologized.

She stood up and our eyes locked. I felt something sweeping through me and, all of a sudden, the façade of domesticity vanished. The next thing I knew, Hillary was in my arms, her body writhing against mine. Our lips joined and our tongues lashed. I realized, when I felt warm flesh under my fingers, that I'd begun tugging at her clothing and at the same time I felt her hands touching my flesh, meaning she was doing exactly the same thing to me. We didn't talk, although we did make sounds into each other's mouths like the animals in heat we were as we peeled the clothing from each other's bodies.

Of course once we did have our clothes off, we had another problem in that there didn't appear to be any comfortable place there in the kitchen where we could consummate the fierce need we were both feeling. I looked around wildly and my eyes fell on the kitchen table. I grabbed Hillary, spun her around, sat her on the table, and stepped between her splayed legs. We continued kissing while she grabbed my erection and centered the tip on her need-dampened opening. I slid my hands down to her buttocks and hauled her onto me, sinking all the way into her in one quick thrust. "Unnnnhhh!" she grunted as I did.

Her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling our bodies even tighter together. I could feel her rigid nipples pressing against my chest. Her legs wrapped around behind mine, literally fastening her body to mine. I held her buttocks in my hands and could feel the muscles in them moving as she feverishly ground her middle against mine.

Clutching each other desperately in the middle of my kitchen, we grunted and panted like the lust-maddened animals we were while our bodies struggled against each other, sharing exquisite pleasure and seeking release.

Needing to breathe, we broke our kiss and the feverish sounds of our bodies slapping together grew louder, as did the sounds coming from our mouths. "Unnnn!!" "Arrrrhhh!" "Oh, yeahhhh!" "Unnnnn!!!" "Yeahhhh!" "Arrrrhhh!" "Nnnnuhhhh!"

I felt Hillary's arms and legs tighten, and the muscles in her bottom went into a kind of spasm. "Nnnnnnowwww! Take...Oh, God...take me now!" she wailed. "Please! Oh, God, please! Take me now!"

I felt the rippling contractions inside her on my embedded erection and that wiped out what little ability to hold back I still had. Uttering groans as impassioned as hers, I clutched my young lover against me as tightly as I could while my warm seed spewed into her quivering body. Hillary's cries of joy grew even louder when she felt me exploding into her.

When our need was finally sated, I did lower Hillary onto the table top, but we continued to cling to each other, almost in desperation, as our breathing and heart rate returned to something near normal.

"Oh...God...I...I don't believe we did that here in the kitchen," Hillary said, still sounding a little breathless. "God...I...I wanted...needed you so bad!"

I kissed her gently on the forehead. "Obviously, I needed you, too, at least as bad as you needed me."

"I guess!" she exclaimed, giggling softly. "Wow!" She slid her arms around my waist again, leaned forward, and gave me a hug. "I...from the time you got here...I was trying to be more...you know...ah...grown up...I guess, about the way we are, but..."

"You don't need to be 'grown up' for me," I told her, trailing my fingers up and down her bare back and feeling her tremble a little. "I like you just fine the way you are. And I happen to think you're about as 'grown up' as anybody I know."

We got ourselves cleaned up, picked up our clothes, and put on our bathrobes, then we finished clearing the table and getting the dishes cleaned up. "You still want to watch that movie?" I asked Hillary after I'd turned on the dishwasher.

"Yeah, I would," she said.

We walked into the living room and Hillary made herself comfortable on the sofa while I found the movie. I turned on the TV and VCR, shoved the movie in the slot in the VCR, then I joined my young lover on the sofa. Snuggled in each other's arms, we watched the movie, occasionally commenting on a difference between the movie and the book, or on some aspect of the film.

"Sam Elliott plays Conagher just the way I imagined him," Hillary commented at one point.

"I thought so, too," I said. "I've always had a problem watching movies made from books I've read. I get a picture of the characters in my head and it usually doesn't match the person they pick to play that role in the movie."

"I know what you mean," Hillary noted in agreement.

When the movie was over, I turned off both the TV and VCR and turned so I was looking at Hillary. She gave me a puzzled look. "There are some things we need to talk about," I said.

"Like what?"

OK, like what? "Ah...well...when...when do you leave for school?" It wasn't exactly what I wanted to ask, but it would at least get the discussion going.

She looked even more puzzled. "Ah...we're going up there on August 21st," she told me. "I have to be there on the 22nd. Why?"

That was good news. My family was coming back from the seacoast on August 24th. "Well..." I took a deep breath. "That means August 20th will be the last time we can be together. I mean...ah..."

"Yeah, I know," she said, surprising me by appearing far calmer than I felt.

"And another thing...I...I have to go to the seacoast tomorrow when I'm done with my classes," I said. I wasn't being anywhere near as tactful as I wanted to be.

This time I could see a little sadness in her eyes. "Yeah...I...um...I...ah, I know that, too," she said, very softly. Her eyes were beginning to fill with tears now.

I felt terrible. I deserved to feel terrible. It was my fault she was hurt. "Hillary, I'm sorry," I said softly.

"About what?" she asked. She made no effort to hide the tears in her eyes. "About what we...about what we did?"

I shook my head. "No...I...I'm not sorry about what we've done," I said quickly. "But I am very sorry I hurt you. I...I should never have allowed any of this to happen. I should never have forced you to..."

"You didn't force me to do anything," Hillary snapped. Her eyes, though still wet with tears, showed determination and a trace of anger. "I wanted to do everything we did. Everything! And I'm not sorry. Not even a little."

"Hillary, I...um...we...you and I...you know we don't have any future, don't you?" I said, fumbling for words. Was there any way to explain to her exactly how I felt? Did I even know how I really felt?

"We...we have until the 21st," she said. "Don't we?"

I should have told her that we didn't, but I didn't have the strength to do that. "Yes," I said. "We do have until then." I took a deep breath. "Hillary, you...you have to understand. I...I'm not going to leave my wife to marry you or anything like that, I..."

"I knew that when we started," she replied, looking me directly in the eye. "I never thought you would leave your wife."




Hillary: The Summer of '92 Ch. 03



As I studied her face, I thought saw something that told me what she'd just said wasn't entirely true, but I wasn't up to challenging her. I wanted to clarify our relationship and hoped I'd done that.

"Hillary, are...are you sure you want to keep seeing me?" I asked. "I mean, what about your friends? And...and you have a boyfriend, too, don't you?"

"Are...are you trying to tell me you don't want to see me any more, is that it?" she asked. Her eyes weren't teary any more and there was a twinge of anger in her voice.

"No...not at all," I responded quickly. "I...I certainly don't want to stop seeing you. But I don't want to spoil your summer, either."

She slid closer to me, put her arms around me, and buried her face in the crook of my neck. "I don't want to spend time with my friends," she said softly. "I want to spend my summer with you. I never, ever, had a summer like this. And...and I may never have another one, so..."

I slid my arms around her and we stayed like that for a while, not talking, holding each other.

"This weekend is going to be hard," I said. "Are...are you going to be OK?"

Hillary nodded against my neck, but didn't speak.

"Would you like to go to bed?"

Hillary nodded against my neck again.

We got up and moved into the bedroom that had become "ours." Our robes came off and we slid under the covers. The minute we were in bed, Hillary slid over and pressed her lovely warm body against mine. Her hand slid between us and she took hold of my penis, which immediately began growing hard. She cupped her fingers around it and began to stroke it while, at the same time, she pressed her lips against mine and thrust her tongue into my mouth. I laid an arm over her and began trailing my fingers lightly up and down her back. As it always seemed to do, that caused her to quiver a little and moan softly into my mouth.

We caressed each other, kissing, and enjoying the contact between our bodies for quite a while, as long as we could before our rising need for each other drove us to move on to another level of sex play. I pulled back a little and, instead of kissing Hillary's lips, began kissing her chest, moving down toward her nipples, which had been poking against my chest for some time. Her hand continued sliding up and down my erection, now slippery with the lubricating fluids that seeped from the and were massaged into the shaft by her gentle caresses.

She groaned softly when my lips locked around her left nipple and her hands clasped my head. She moaned louder when I began suckling her as if I was a hungry infant and she was my mother. I moved my hand down and cupped one of her firm buttocks. Then I slid my fingers into the cleft between the wonderfully-formed globes and found that area wet and slick with her effluent of need. Her response was a full-body shudder and passionate moan. Her hands, already wrapped around my head, clutched me even more tightly.

I moved my lips from one nipple to the other, then back, while my fingers continued to explore the delightful valley between Hillary's buttocks, teasing both her vagina and her tiny, snug anus and evoking an almost continuous protestation of joy from her as I did. Her hand began sliding up and down on my rigid penis more and more rapidly and I felt my own need rising, so I pulled my hand out of the lovely valley I was having so much fun exploring and pushed Hillary onto her back. Then I slid atop her. She never let go of my erection the whole time and, when I was in position and began lowering my hips, she guided the swollen tube of flesh to the spot where both of us wanted it to be.

"Oh, Goddd!" I groaned as I sank into her.

"Yessss! Oh, God, yesssss!" she hissed in reply, clutching my buttocks, dragging me into her. "Take me! Oh, God, take me, I need you so bad!"

What amazes me as I write this is that in spite of the fact she and I had made love more times than I can count in the few days we'd been seeing each other, every one of those love-making episodes differed from the others. Some were wild and frantic, explosions of need. Others were calmer, loving and gentle. But all of them were satisfying. All of them were wonderful. It also occurs to me that my love-making with my wife was much the same and always had been.

My joining with Hillary that evening, the first night I was leaving her to go be with my wife, was a bit of a mixture of exploding passion and loving and gentle. I kept myself buried deep inside her, rocking my hips, twisting them from side to side, while she lay under me, doing the same thing. Her fingers dug into my butt while my erection lashed around inside her. Fabulous sensations spread through my body the way warmth from a heater spreads through you on a cold day, filling each part of me, pushing out the empty cold spots that needed to be filled by the warmth of ecstasy.

I held my upper body above Hillary's on straightened arms and gazed down into a pretty face transformed with need and desire. The look of passion she got when we were making love is indescribable. I'd never seen anything like it before I met her, nor have I seen anything like it since. It was quite simply, a look that I would expect to see on the face of someone having a divine experience. Every time I saw it I was humbled to think that I was at least in part responsible for it being there. Her body seemed to be pressing against mine even more tightly than usual, and her need seemed somehow more intense in some ways.

"Ohhhhhahhhhh!" she cried at last, her fingers digging into me even more fiercely and her legs, locked behind mine, tightening.

For a second I could actually feel the wonderful vibrations of her vaginal walls as they began the spasms of orgasm, then all I felt was incredible, extraordinary, overwhelming bliss as my own orgasm exploded and rapture flooded through me.

I don't remember much else from that night. I assume we went to sleep in each other's arms, because that's how we were when I awoke in the morning.



Hillary: The Summer of '92 Ch. 04



From Benjamin Dornier's Journal

Friday, July 16, 1992

I awoke the next morning in the arms of my adorable teenage lover, and immediately began thinking about the day ahead. At 9 o'clock I had my morning class; the one Hillary was in. After that, I planned to do a little work on setting up my new office at the Middle School. I planned to leave for the seacoast to spend the weekend with my wife, daughter, ands by mid-afternoon. I usually left around two o'clock. With a four-hour drive, that put me at the coast by dinnertime.

I didn't want to waken Hillary, so I laid in bed, holding her, until she woke up on her own. When her eyes opened and she saw me, she smiled. "Good morning," she said softly.

"Good morning," I replied.

She rolled over onto her back and stretched. I've always loved the sight of a naked woman stretching and seeing Hillary do it had an almost immediate effect on me. I suppose doctors could do a different kind of reflex test on me. I could imagine my doctor saying, "Watch this naked lady stretch, if you get a hard on, your reflexes are fine."

Hillary finished her stretch and rolled on her side facing me again. "What are you grinning about?" she asked. She glanced down, got red, and said, "Oh!" She giggled softly. "You have to be the horniest man in the world," she exclaimed.

"It's all your fault," I told her.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I wasn't like this before I met you," I told her.

"Oh," she said.

"Don't forget, you haven't exactly been pushing me away," I continued, smiling.

"Well, yeah," she said and smiled back. "I guess we ought to do something about that, huh?" She nodded toward my erection.

"Well, yeah," I said. "I sure can't walk around like this all day."

My comment got a lovely bell-like giggle from Hillary. "All right," she said. She pulled her legs under her so she was kneeling on the bed. Then she pushed herself up so she was sitting on her heels. "I guess I better help you. Otherwise you'll be all grumpy in class." She took hold of my erection and began stroking it gently. "And besides, I won't be able to concentrate if you're walking around in front of the class with this thing bulging out your pants."

"Oh, so you're doing the poor old horny guy a favor, is that it?" I asked.

"Well, yeah," she replied. She maneuvered herself so she was sitting on my thighs, then she lifted her hips and slid upward until her middle was above my erection, which she was still holding on to. She positioned me against her opening, then she sank down onto me. I laid there and watched her face change as my erect penis slid up inside her. I love the way her face changes when I'm in her. Once she had me all the way in, she leaned forward, put her hands on my shoulders, and began moving her hips up and down. Since her position put her breasts in reach of my mouth, I decided to take advantage of that fact, lifted my head, and began suckling on her erect nipples, first one, then the other. She moaned softly and shuddered when I started.

"Oh...yeah! Oh...yeah! Oh...yeah! Oh...yeah! Oh...yeah! Oh...yeah!" she chanted as she lifted and lowered her hips, making me slide almost all the way out of her, then plunge back in. "Uh...huh! Uh...huh! Uh...huh! Uh...huh! Uh...huh! Uh...huh!" As she became more and more aroused, her verbal chant changed into a series of passionate grunts.

I was enjoying suckling her nipples and feeling her vaginal walls caress my erection. I knew I was getting more and more turned on, but didn't think I was anywhere near coming, nor did I think Hillary was.

Suddenly she jammed her hips down against mine and began rocking them wildly. I could feel her fingers tightening on my shoulders. "Oh...Jeezum! Oh, God! Ohhhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhhh! Oh, yeahhhhhhhhhh!" she cried as she exploded into what looked like a pretty fierce orgasm. I could actually feel her vaginal walls rippling on my deeply embedded penis; then just as suddenly as her orgasm hit her, mine exploded, too.

"Oh, God, Hillary!" I exclaimed. I felt my insides churning and my fluids bubbling up from inside me, then they were gushing into her. "Oh, God!" I grabbed her buttocks and held her against me while my hips went into a series of delectable jolting movements. I felt her collapse onto me and continued holding her while my orgasm ran its course.

"Well, I guess I won't have to worry about that...ah...problem you were so concerned about any more," I teased. "Thanks for helping me with it."

"Ah...you...you're welcome," Hillary gasped without lifting her head.

We eventually got up, showered, dressed, and had breakfast. As had become our pattern, Hillary left about a half-hour before I did. Today she was wearing a fluffy-looking pale blue sleeveless sweater and a straight black skirt made of some soft-looking and clingy material that went almost to her ankles. The sweater was a delightfully snug fit, but the skirt was looser than she generally wore. After Hillary left, I loaded some boxes of things I wanted in my office in my car, then I headed for school.

My class, with Hillary again an active participant, went a lot more quickly than it used to when she was sitting in the back of the room, pouting about being there. The boys clearly enjoyed the assigned reading and liked talking about things that happened in the story. They seemed surprised to find that Hillary had enjoyed it just as much as they had. She was able to interject a female perspective on the story and I was surprised how willing the boys were to accept her input. Mostly I got to sit and watch the discussion take place. And to check Hillary out when I was sure none of the other students would see me do it. She caught me looking at her a couple of times and it made her blush a little.

After class ended, I headed for the middle school, stopping along the way to pick up a sandwich and soda for lunch. Marie McCordle, the principal, happened to be in the building when I got there, but as far as I could tell, there weren't too many other people around. Marie, a stocky, pleasant-looking woman with short black hair, always wore huge glasses. Today she also had on a pair of bib overalls, which made her look a little like a large pixie farmer. "Hey, Ben, how are your summer school classes going?" she asked.

"Not bad," I said. "It's more fun teaching when you only have a few students."

"Isn't that the truth?" she agreed. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought I'd start working on getting my office set up the way I want it," I told her.

She smiled. "I'll take that as a sign you intend to stick around for a while," she chuckled.

"Marie, I'm out to get your job," I told her.

She chuckled. "Oh, yeah?" she said.

"Yup," I said, "Just as soon as they promote you to superintendent."

"You're going to be waiting a long time, then," she replied. "No way would I ever want that job. Not enough contact with kids. Heck, I don't get enough contact with kids in this job."

"Well, if I'm going to be in it until you retire, I might as well make my office comfortable, huh?" I said.

"Yeah, you might as well," she said.

The building had that "empty" feel unoccupied buildings often have. Especially unoccupied school buildings. It has always seemed to me school buildings feel a little sad and lonely during school vacations. It's as if they miss the energy of the kids who usually fill them. "Anybody here but us?" I asked.

"We're it," Marie said. "And in a half-hour or so, you're it. The custodians are off this week and the secretarial staff is at some kind of computer training. You worried about being in the building alone?" she teased.

"Nope, it just feels empty," I said.

"You notice that, too?" she replied. "You ask me, there's nothing sadder than an empty school building."

"My thoughts exactly," I said.

"Gotta go, got some things I need to finish, too," Marie said. She turned and headed off down the hall toward her office. The middle school was old and had undergone numerous "renovations" over the years. In fact, it began life as the high school. The need for office space had grown, and by now the offices weren't all located in the same place. The principal's office was in a cramped office suite that also held some of the secretarial staff and the tiny office allocated to the school nurse. The guidance department had offices located in another area of the building, and my office was on the far side of the building, away from anyone else. Of course the secretary assigned to me was back in the main office, which should prove interesting, especially since the phone system wasn't known for being too dependable. "Maybe I know why Mr. Amos Brillstein was such a grouch," I thought as I walked down the hallway toward my office. "After all, his office was out here in no-man's land."

There were some benefits I had that nobody else had. At one time, the office I was in belonged to the football coach, who also was the gym teacher. I assume they figured he'd need to shower and they didn't want him using the shower room with the kids. That's the only reason I can think of to explain why I had the only office in the building with its own bathroom and shower. The gymnasium used to be where the cafeteria is now. During one of the many renovations of the building, they converted the gym into the cafeteria and built on a "multi-purpose" room that serves as both a gym and auditorium and really doesn't do either job all that well.

Another positive thing about my office was that it is located close to an outside door, very near the parking space allotted to the assistant principal. I wouldn't have to walk too far from my car to my office. The "benefit" of having a convenient parking space wasn't as good as it looked. One of the assistant principal's responsibilities was supervision of the students as they left school and boarded the school busses. Of course that all happened at a doorway about as far from my office as possible. Oh, well, exercise isn't a bad thing at all.

I sat down at my new desk, booted my computer and, while I ate, began organizing the desktop and look of the computer to suit me. Clearly Mr. Brillstein wasn't into computers. The computer had the default settings for everything. I found some wallpaper that had World War II fighters on it, set up unique sounds for various events, and even found a different cursor to use. I also cleaned out some of his old files and made up some new folders for things I planned to do. While I was arranging the computer, I ate my lunch.

After I finished lunch and had my computer set up, I went outside and drove my car to the exterior door near my office. I lugged in all of the boxes I'd brought and rearranged the furniture I'd found and brought down earlier. I'd stumbled onto a very nice leather love seat at a yard sale and got it dirt cheap. It fit nicely in the alcove in the back of my office formed by the stairs going up to the second floor. I guess I forgot to mention my office is located next to, and partially under, a stairwell. I also located some old glass-front "lawyers files" and had those sitting along one wall. I'd just started taking things out of the boxes and putting them on the shelves when Marie knocked on my door.

"Hey," she said. "You have this place looking pretty nice. Maybe I'll pull rank on you and move down here."

"The furniture goes where I go," I replied.

"Oh, well," she said. "It was worth a try. I'm out of here. You want me to lock up the front doors when I go?"

"If you don't mind. It would save me having to tramp all over the school," I said.

"Consider it done," she said. "I'll see you next week. Have fun in at the seacoast."

Her mention of the seacoast was innocent, but my guilt receptors were working overtime, along with a certain level of paranoia. "Ah...you bet...I...I sure will," I replied, knowing I sounded a little odd. Hell, why don't you just go ahead and act guilty so everybody knows you are guilty? Despite my paranoid fears, it was clear Marie was only chatting. She turned and left. I could hear her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway as she headed across the building to the front entrance.

I was taking the last stuff out of the last of the boxes I'd brought when I heard a soft knock on my door. Surprised because I didn't think anyone else was in the building, I turned around only to be even more surprised. Hillary was standing at my office door.

"Hi," she said. "I...I saw your car outside and thought I'd stop in and say 'Hi.'" She looked around. "Your office is really neat. It's kind of comfy. It wasn't like this when Mr. Brillstein was in here."

I smiled at her. "I didn't realize you spent that much time in the assistant principal's office," I said.

"Ah...I...I didn't," she responded. "I mean, I only was there a couple of times...and not because I was in trouble or anything."

"I was kidding," I said.

She smiled at me and nodded. "I...I kinda thought maybe you were," she said softly. "You...you don't mind that I stopped, do you?"

I really didn't mind. Even if someone had been in the building, my getting a visit from a student wouldn't have been improper. Not even a female student. Of course the fact that I was involved in a sexual relationship with this particular female student did make it improper, but nobody would know that. And, of course, I'm babbling about this, even in my journal.

I shook my head. "No, I don't mind," I said.

She stepped into the room.

"Would you like a soda or something?" I asked. My office wasn't far from the cafeteria and there was a juice machine just outside the cafeteria entrance.

Hillary shook her head. "No...that's OK, I just came from Puccinello's."

Puccinello's was a local pizza parlor. Most of the kids used it as a hangout.

I know I'm using a cliché, but the tension in my office was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. Hillary's expression and the look in her eyes told me she felt it, too. We'd gotten so comfortable with each other at my house - where there was little or no chance we'd be discovered - but it was different here. Even though nothing was happening, there was a much higher chance that someone might come along and find us together. We'd done nothing - in my office at least - to feel guilty about, but that didn't seem to matter. "This isn't much different than earlier this week when she showed up at my house," I thought.

"So...ah...can...can I help you with...with anything?" Hillary asked. Her voice betrayed the tension she felt.

"Ah...not really, I have almost everything where I want it," I said. "Thanks for offering, though." My goodness, weren't we being formal?

"Ah...look...I...um...maybe I...maybe I should...you know...maybe I should just...ah...go," Hillary stammered. She turned around.

Before she could move, I took a step toward her and put my hand on her shoulder. "Hillary, don't leave," I said. My voice sounded hoarse.

She turned around and looked at me. We were standing close enough so I could smell the delicious light fragrance of her perfume and the scent of the shampoo she used.

"I don't want you to leave yet," I said softy. I stepped around her, walked to my office door, closed it, and flicked the lock on. Then I walked back to where Hillary stood, looking at me with wide eyes. Her mouth was slightly open and she was breathing a little harder than she had been when she arrived. I noticed that her nipples were jutting out against the soft material of her sweater. "I know I'm taking a huge risk..." I said as I pulled her into my arms, "...but I really don't give a damn."

Her mouth opened the minute my lips touched hers and our tongues immediately began the arousing duel that had become such a familiar part of our lovemaking. She groaned softly and I felt her arms slide around me while her body seemed to be melding itself to mine. Kissing her was an incredible experience. I could feel myself getting erect and, given how tightly our bodies were pressed together, I knew she had to be able to feel it. A need to breathe caused us to take short breaks between kisses, but didn't stop them. I felt warm flesh under my hands and realized I'd tugged her sweater out of the waist of her skirt and had my hands under it. Her hands were between us, working on the waist of my slacks.

I felt my loosened slacks drop around my ankles, then I felt her pushing my undershorts down. "Mmmmmmnnnn!" I moaned into her mouth when her slim, warm fingers encircled my erection and began stroking me.

I quickly got her skirt open and it dropped from my hands, which I moved to her firm, delectable bottom and hauled her against me again. We had to make love, but where? The desk was a possibility, but it was full of stuff I'd yet to put away. The loveseat! Clutching her against me, I shuffled back to the loveseat and sank down on it, pulling her with me, kissing her and fondling her bottom as we went. Hillary wound up atop me on the loveseat with her knees on either side of my legs. My erection was caught between us, rubbing against my belly on one side and the silky panel of her panties on the other. We again paused our kissing to breathe and this time she sat back on my legs, gasping, her face beautifully flushed. I pushed her sweater up, cupped her breasts in my hands, and began rubbing my thumbs over her erect nipples.

"Oh, God! Oh, Jeezum!" she groaned, putting her hands on mine and pulling them tighter against her firm breasts. Her hips were rocking, caressing my rigid shaft with her silky panties. It felt incredibly good. The fact that we were committing a highly forbidden act in my office, in school, probably had a lot to do with how wildly aroused both of us seemed to be.

She lost her hold on my erection when we sank down onto the loveseat, but I felt her fumbling between us again, trying to get it in her grasp once more. A shudder of joy raced through me when her fingers again wrapped around it. I felt her moving it, pushing aside the panel of her panties with the tip. "Oh, God, Hillary!" I moaned when warmth engulfed the tip, then the entire shaft, as she sank down onto me.

Once I was hilted in her, she began raising and lowering her hips, riding me with a fierceness I hadn't seen before. Her eyes were closed, her face had the look of lust on it I loved so much, and there was a rosy flush that spread from her face down across her lovely breasts. I grabbed a buttock in each hand and held on while she worked herself up and down on me, riding my rigid penis as if there was nothing else in the world. Spectacular feelings raced up through as she did.

The position we were in put her breasts within easy reach of my lips and tongue and I took advantage of that fact to tease the rigid tips of her bouncing breasts as she moved up and down on me. She was already groaning with passion, but her groans became more fervent when I commenced working on her nipples.

"Uh...huh! Uh...huh! Uh...huh! Uh...huh! Uh...huh! Uh...huh!" she grunted as she bounded up and down on my erection. "Uh...huh! Uh...huh! Uh...huh! Uh...huh! Uh...huh! Uh...huh!"

Her rocking bottom was in my hands and I loved how it felt as her taut muscles moved in my grip. I slid one hand so my fingers were in the cleft between her lovely nether globes and, using the copious supply of lubricating fluids being squeezed from the point of our joining, managed to get the tip of my finger slippery, then I started teasing her anus with it.

"Nnnnnahhhhhhh!!!" she cried and her movements got even more frantic. Then she fell against me, pressed her mouth against mine, and her body began to shudder wildly while she groaned so loud that even though our mouths were joined, I feared someone in the hallway could have heard her. I remember thinking that I hoped the school really was empty just before I exploded into my own orgasm and began sending my hot fluids jetting into Hillary's body. After that I couldn't think of anything but how wonderful the feelings echoing through my body were for quite a while.




Hillary: The Summer of '92 Ch. 04



Hillary stayed on top of me with my softening penis still in her as we calmed down. I had my arms wrapped around her and she had her head lying on my shoulder. She kissed my neck gently. "You...you aren't mad because I came here, are you?" she whispered.

"Not hardly," I replied, tightening my arms around her. "I wasn't planning this particular kind of celebration for moving into my new office, but it sure seems like a good idea now."

She giggled softly. "Yeah, I know what you mean." She pushed herself up, so she was sitting on my thighs. When she did that, my now-flaccid penis slid out of her. She squirmed. "That tickled," she giggled. Then she made a face. "Yuk," she said. "How come something as neat as sex has to be so messy? Your...ah...stuff is dripping out of me."

I shrugged. "Maybe the yukky stuff makes you appreciate the good stuff," I suggested.

"I can appreciate the good stuff just fine," she replied. "God! Was it as intense for you as it was for me?"

I nodded. "Doing it in school kind of makes it extra-naughty, doesn't it?" I said. "And I guess extra-naughty makes it extra good."

"Wow, I guess!" she exclaimed. Another sour expression formed on her face. "Where am I going to get cleaned up?" Hillary asked.

I gestured toward my bathroom. "I happen to have the only private bath in the school," I said. "Feel free to use it."

She slid off the sofa and made her way to the bathroom. I noticed that we had made quite a mess. I bought the leather love seat because it was cheap, but now I was even gladder I had. Leather was a lot easier to clean up that cloth.

"I can't believe you have a private bathroom," Hillary said as she walked back into my office. "Or that it's so clean."

"I put a lot of work into cleaning it up and painting it," I replied. I had, too. I don't think Mr. Brillstein ever cleaned it. "My turn," I said. I got up and headed for the bathroom to get myself cleaned up.

Hillary was dressed and leaning against my desk when I came out of the bathroom. She had a sad look on her face. "I...I guess I better get going," she said. "You...you have to head for the seacoast, don't you?"

"You know I do," I said as gently as I could. I started getting my underwear and pants back on.

"When...what time will...will you be back on Sunday?" she asked. Her voice sounded as if she was very close to tears.

"I usually leave over there around four or so," I told her as I zipped up my fly and buckled my belt. "Depending on traffic, that means I get back here about nine."

"Do...do you want me to come over Sunday night?" she asked.

"That's up to you," I said. "I would love to see you, though."

She looked up and her eyes searched mine, as if she was trying to determine whether what I said was true or not. "Do...do you really mean that?"

I walked over to the desk, pulled her into my arms, and gave her a gentle kiss. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it?" I told her.

Her arms slid around my waist and she hugged me fiercely. "I...I'll see you Sunday night, then." She gave me a quick kiss, then slipped out of my arms, walked to my door, unlocked it, and opened it. Before she went out she turned, looked at me, and gave me a sad smile, then she was gone.

I spent a few more minutes straightening my office, then I locked up the office and school, got in my car, and headed for the seacoast...and my family. I always dreaded the trip, but before this, I was always looking forward to what was waiting for me at the end of it. I started my trip today feeling guilty and knowing my guilt would just get worse the closer I got to where my wife and daughter waited for me. And I also knew I deserved the guilt I felt.



Hillary: The Summer of '92 Ch. 05



Hillary: The Summer of '92

Part 5

From Benjamin Dornier's Journal

Sunday, July 18, 1992

The weekend on the seacoast with my family turned out to be far less of a problem than I'd expected. Between the fact that my wife was having her period and some contentious issues among some of her family members present, she and I had little time for intimacy. And the fuss going on among family members kept her distracted enough to keep her from noticing whatever discomfiture - and guilt - I may have been showing.

I was thankful I'd been given a reprieve, but knew that sooner or later I'd have to deal with the fact of making love with my wife and having her see me when she wasn't distracted. What would happen then I had no idea. I did spend a lot of time thinking about it during the four-hour drive back from the coast, though.

I was more than a little surprised to see Hillary's little car sitting in the parking space behind my house when I got home. I hadn't expected to see her until class the next morning because I thought her parents would be home. I'd left the coast early because of the family problems there and arrived at my house around five. To find Hillary waiting was a surprise because I had told her I didn't normally get home until nine.

She got out of her car when I got out of mine and I stared at her. She had on a long green sweatshirt with a white collared shirt under it and green plaid shorts. Her hair was pulled up and fastened somehow, in a way that left wisps of it framing her face. She looked incredibly young and incredibly beautiful. I did see that her eyes were red, as if she'd been crying.

"You...you came home early," she said. Her voice was soft and broke a little as she spoke.

I grabbed my suitcase out of the back seat and started walking toward the house. Hillary came with me. "Wasn't a very good weekend," I said. "How was your weekend?"

"Not so good," she replied as I unlocked and opened the back door of my house.

Once we were inside, I set down my suitcase and looked at Hillary, who looked as if she was about to burst into tears at any minute. "Hillary, what's the matter?" I asked, although I had an idea.

She walked into my living room, sat down on the sofa, pulled her legs up under her, and sat there, hugging herself, looking incredibly sad. "Ah...I...nothing, I guess," she said softly.

I couldn't stand to see her looking so sad. I walked over and sat down on the sofa next to her. "Hillary, what's wrong?" I asked. "Please tell me."

"I...I ah...broke up with my...um...Dave this weekend," she replied, staring at the floor.

"You did?" I responded, surprised. "Why?"

"Because he's a jerk," she replied softly. "I...I only went out with him because every other girl in school wanted to." She looked up at me. "He...he really is an asshole. He...he..." Her face got red and she hugged herself again.

"Hillary, what happened?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"Look, something happened, didn't it?" I asked. "And it has to do with breaking up with Dave, doesn't it?"

This time she nodded and tears began rolling down her cheeks.

I slid closer to her and put my arm around her. With a soft sigh she leaned into me and her silky hair brushed my face. Up to then I hadn't really been thinking about sex, but that began to change as my body started to respond to contact with hers. "Why don't you tell me what went on?" I said. I reached over, picked up a box of tissues sitting on the end-table, and held it out to Hillary. She pulled out a tissue and used it to blow her nose and wipe her eyes. Then, surprising me, she moved so she was sitting on my lap. That didn't do a thing to calm the turmoil taking place in my body.

"Dave called me when he got back Friday night and wanted me to go to the movies with him," she said, her voice very soft. "I told him I didn't really feel like going to the movies, but I said I'd meet him at Puccinello's."

I nodded.

"He was kinda pissed about that," she continued. "I...I think he figured we'd...ah...you know..." She paused and took a deep breath. "Anyhow," she continued, "he said he'd meet me at Puccinello's. When I got there, he started bugging me to at least go out in his truck with him, but I wouldn't. I knew what he wanted. Finally I told him I didn't want to go out with him any more."

"What did he do?" I asked. I started sliding my hand up and down her back. I couldn't have her in my arms without doing something.

She took another deep breath and sniffled a little. "I figured he'd be pissed," she said, "but I didn't think he'd be as pissed as he was. He...he got all red in the face and..." She buried her face against my neck and began to sob. I kept rubbing her back and holding her while she cried. The teenage boy inside me wanted to go find her ex-boyfriend and beat the crap out of him for hurting her like this.

Finally she took a deep breath. "He...he said it really didn't matter, that he was gonna break up with me anyhow because I'm such a skank. He...he said there are lots prettier girls who want to go out with him and..." She started sobbing again.

I slid my arms around her and hugged her to me. "Hillary, you know that isn't true," I said. "He was angry and he wanted to hurt you. You're a lovely, wonderful young woman. What he said just isn't true."

"I...I know..." she sniffled. "But...but it...it really hurt to hear him say it. And...and I...I didn't have anyone I...I could talk to about. Oh, God! I felt so lonely." Her arms slipped around my waist and she clung to me.

When her sobs abated she leaned back in my arms and gazed at me. "I...I'm really glad you came home early," she said softly. "I needed someone to talk to so bad...and you're the only person I could talk to about this."

"I'm...I'm sorry I wasn't there for you," I replied.

"It's...it's OK," she said. "It...it wasn't your fault. I...I shoulda waited and broke up with Dave when you were around. I...I just didn't think he'd be so mean. You know?"

I caressed her face gently. "I'll try to be there for you as much as I can," I told her. "But you know..."

She nodded. "Yeah...I...I know." Then she made a soft, sighing noise, grabbed my face, clamped her lips against mine, and jabbed her tongue into my mouth.

I responded to the kiss avidly, hugging her against me, savoring how it felt to have her tongue lashing mine, loving how her firm bottom felt against my stiffening penis.

I'm not sure which of us needed to kiss the other more. I do know the kisses we shared were arousing me as much as I'd ever been aroused. And the fact that I'd gone the whole weekend without sex seemed to add to my need. As our kissing continued, I slid my hands up under Hillary's sweatshirt, onto her bare back.

"Oh...yes!" she moaned, between kisses. "Here..." She leaned back and pulled both her sweatshirt and the blouse under it off over her head, then she went back to kissing me while I began trailing my hands over her lovely young body. We continued to exchange kisses while my hands stole lightly over her silky skin and she pressed that fantastic body against me.

After a brief period of heated kissing and caressing, she again leaned back and began unbuttoning my shirt. "I...I want to feel your skin against mine," she murmured avidly as her fingers opened my shirt.

"Why don't we just get all of our clothing off?" I suggested. Seemed to me we were going to do that anyhow sooner or later, so it might as well be sooner.

"OK," Hillary said. She gave me a quick kiss, then slid off me, stood up, and removed what little clothing she still had on, her bra, panties, and shorts. At the same time I was shrugging out of my shirt and unbuttoning my pants. I'd already kicked my shoes off. I'd just finished opening my pants and had begun sliding them down when Hillary finished, so she grabbed them and pulled them the rest of the way down. At that point I wasn't sure which one of us wanted us to be naked more.

Once we were both naked, she again kneeled on the sofa, astraddle my legs. Having her soft flesh brushing me served only to make my erection, now jutting proudly from my middle, even harder.

As Hillary worked her way closer to me, I felt her fingers wrap around my erection and, before I knew she was going to do it, warmth and dampness embraced the head of my erect organ and, as soft sighs came from both of us, she began taking me into her. "I...Oh, God!...I hope you don't mind," she murmured as I slid into her. "I...I needed to be connected with you."

"I don't mind at all," I whispered, just before our lips again joined. My hands returned to gently coasting over Hillary's warm skin. I could feel her now-rigid nipples pressing against my chest as she snuggled her body against mine. She didn't move her hips, she just kept me inside the velvet grip of her vagina.

"God, do you have any idea how wonderful this feels?" she murmured into my neck.

"Ah...yeah...I know exactly how wonderful it feels," I responded, my voice tight.

It was something I'd never experienced before. Even though my erection was buried deep in Hillary, we didn't begin the movements of love-making. Instead, we continued to exchange passionate kisses and caresses. That did cause each of us to move occasionally, and that did cause some stimulation, but we'd been kissing and caressing for some time before I became fully aware of how aroused I'd gotten. My erection had been buried in Hillary's snug vaginal tunnel for quite a while and had been gently stimulated by the movements both of us made as we kissed and caressed each other. By the time I realized how turned on I was, I was almost ready to explode.  Judging by what happened next, I have a feeling Hillary had the same experience.

She stopped kissing me and leaned back. "Are...are you as turned on...as...as I...as I am?" she gasped.

I nodded.

"Oh, God!" she whimpered. "I...I'm gonna come any second. I...I don't think I can wait any more."

"Me, too," I replied and began rocking my hips, thrusting my steel-hard shaft up into her. "Don't wait, let it happen. Now!"

That look of pure passion I'd come to know so well in the short time I'd been with Hillary appeared on her pretty face and her hips began rocking motions similar to mine.

"Oh...God! Oh...God! Oh...God! Oh...God! Oh...Yes! Oh...Yes! Oh...Yes! Oh...Yes!" Hillary moaned while our joined hips worked more and more fervently. Then she leaned against me, her arms wrapped around my neck, her body stiffened and began to quake. "Yessss!! Oh...God! Yessss! Now! Now!!! Ohhhhhhhhhh!!! Ohhhhhhhhhhhh!" she moaned as she exploded into orgasm.

I grabbed her hips and held her jammed against my middle as my hot juices spouted into her. "Yes, baby, yes! Now!" I groaned as I joined my gorgeous young lover in experiencing ecstasy.

Spent, we remained on the sofa, Hillary on top of me, my softening penis still inside her, as our bodies settled down and our senses returned to something near normal. I'd needed her far more than I realized, and that bothered me a little. My relationship with her was becoming far too important to me.

"Thank you," Hillary whispered into my neck. "Oh, God! I needed you so much!"

"I needed you, too, baby," I replied, kissing her gently on the side of her head.

She giggled when my softening penis reluctantly slid from her. "It tickles so much when that happens," she chuckled, giving me a gentle hug, then a soft kiss on the cheek. She slid back on my knees, then got to her feet. "I gotta go pee," she giggled.

I sat there, looking at the lovely, nude young woman standing in front of me, awed that, in fact, she was here, with me, making love.

I got up, too, and used my T-shirt to clean the mess we'd left off the sofa. I was going to have to steam-clean it before my wife and daughter got home. After I did that, I went into the bedroom Hillary and I had been using and got our robes. I was headed for the bathroom when she came out.

"Thanks," she said when I handed her the robe. "You want me to make something to eat while you get cleaned up?" she asked.

"Sounds good to me," I said.

When I finished in the bathroom, I joined Hillary in the kitchen. She'd found and heated some leftovers and we sat down and ate without talking a lot. Hillary kept looking at me with questions in her eyes. I had a pretty good idea she wanted to know what had happened between my wife and me over the weekend, but was either afraid to ask or didn't know how to raise the issue.

It was a topic I didn't want to get into for a number of reasons. First of all, if she found out that I hadn't made love with my wife, she might get the wrong idea about what that meant. And there was also the fact that talking about my relationship with my wife was something I really didn't want to do with my lover. The fact that I was violating my marriage vows on a daily basis was causing me considerable internal strife. Not enough to make me stop, however, and I know that makes me sound like a weak man, but that's the way it was.

We'd made love a lot longer than we realized at the time - time does really fly when you're having fun - so by the time we finished cleaning up the supper dishes, it was quite late. I was surprised that Hillary wasn't making any move to go home, not that I wanted her to.

After we finished cleaning up after dinner and were standing at the kitchen counter, she moved against me and put her arms around my waist. "Guess what?" she asked softly.

"What?" I replied.

"My parents called over the weekend," she said. "They're not coming home for another couple of weeks. They were having such a good time, they decided to extend their trip."

I slid my hands around Hillary's waist, pulled her against me, and kissed her. "That's incredible news," I told her. "Am I safe in assuming that means you don't have to go home tonight?"

"Yes," she said, tightening her arms around me. "Why don't we go to bed?"

"Sounds like a good idea to me," I said.

A few minutes later we were both naked and snuggled together in the bed in the spare bedroom, the room that had become ours since my affair with Hillary began. Hillary burrowed against me and locked one leg over mine. It seemed as if she was trying to meld out two bodies together.

"You really meant all that stuff you said earlier, don't you?" she murmured. "I mean about me being pretty and special and stuff."

"Of course I do," I told her. "It's all true."

"You don't think I'm a skank or a slut or anything?"

"No," I said firmly. "You aren't either of those things. And anyone who'd call a woman either of those names doesn't deserve to be called a man. You're right, Dave is an asshole."

She giggled and pressed herself against me even tighter. I felt her lips moving over my neck and shoulder. Almost automatically, I began trailing my fingers over her soft skin. And, as it had been doing since our affair started, my body began to respond to contact with hers.

Once again we started kissing and our hands continued to explore. I'd touched almost all there was to touch of Hillary's body, but I never tired of hearing the soft, happy sounds she made as she responded to my touch, of feeling her muscles move under her silky skin as my fingers slid over it. Her avid reaction to my caresses was intoxicating, the most wonderful kind of intoxication I'd ever known.

"Neat!" she exclaimed when she felt my erection pressing against her legs. "You're turned on again! I hoped that would happen."

"Like it wasn't going to," I teased. I pushed her onto her back, bent my head, sucked one of her nipples between my lips, and began lashing it with my tongue.

"Oh, Jeezum! That feels so awesome!" she exclaimed. I could feel a shudder of delight rippling through her.

I kept kissing and caressing her, adoring her body with my lips and fingers, enjoying the view of her becoming more and more aroused, just as I always did. It was familiar, yet new, and it turned me on just as much as if I was doing it for the first time, just as it always did. It wasn't long before I was aroused to the point where I needed to be in her. I slid atop her, kneeling between her legs.

Hillary looked up at me with bright, need-filled eyes. "Oh, yeah!" she whimpered. "Take me! Oh, God, Ben, take me! I gotta have you again!" She reached down between us, grasped my erection, and centered it on her opening. "Yeahhhh! Oh, yeahhh!" she moaned when I lowered my hips and my swollen penis began to sink into her.

I wanted to take my time, to go slowly and draw out our delectable coupling, but I quickly realized I wasn't going to be able to do that. I needed her far too badly. The movement of my hips took on a life of its own, growing more and more urgent.

Hillary apparently didn't want to take things slow, either. She locked her legs behind mine and was rocking her hips upward to meet my thrusts with an urgency that matched mine. "Take me! Oh, God, yes, Ben! Take me!" she begged. She grabbed my arms with her hands and her fingers dug into my biceps.

I could feel myself racing toward completion and was afraid I'd come before she did, but it turned out I didn't need to worry.

"Yesssss! Oh, yesssssss! Oh, yessssss!" she cried, her back arching, shoving her hips tight against my thrusts. "Now! I'm there! Ohhhhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

"Me...tooooooo!" I groaned in reply as my fluids gushed into her for the second time since I'd arrived home.

Sated once more, I rolled off her, onto my side, and pulled her into my arms. We lay in each other's arms as our bodies calmed.

"You really do care about me, don't you?" I heard Hillary whisper as I faded off to sleep.




Hillary: The Summer of '92 Ch. 06



From Benjamin Dornier's Journal

Monday, July 19, 1992

I was getting way too used to waking up with Hillary in my bed, and I knew it could lead to serious problems, but as I've said before, she was like a drug I couldn't give up. I turned on my side and looked at her face, relaxed in sleep. She was so lovely, and looked so innocent. Feelings of guilt about what I was doing swept over me. What was wrong with me? I was risking my marriage, my career, and Hillary's emotional well-being, but I couldn't stop seeing her.

As I laid there looking at her, Hillary yawned and stretched. Watching a woman stretch is one of my favorite activities and my young lover did it about as wonderfully as anyone I'd ever seen. After she finished stretching, she rolled on her side, facing me, and smiled. "Good morning," she said. "God, waking up in bed with you is so awesome!"

I couldn't help but smile. "Yes," I agreed. "You're right. Awesome is exactly the right word for it."

She leaned forward, our lips joined, and we shared a passionate kiss. "Thank you for making this the best summer of my life," Hillary said.

"You're welcome," I told her. "But I think I should be thanking you. You've made my summer pretty wonderful, too." That got me a bright smile, another kiss, and the fantastic sensation of having her warm young body pressed against mine. And that, of course, caused me to have a very noticeable physical reaction.

Hillary giggled. "I guess we aren't the only ones who are 'up' this morning," she chuckled.

"Ah...I guess not," I said.

She wrapped her hand around my erection and began sliding it up and down. "You want to do something about this?" she asked.

"Ah...yeah...I guess I should," I replied.

Hillary giggled. "Yeah, you better. Wouldn't look good for you to go to school with this, would it?" She gave my erection a squeeze. "OK," she said. She let go of my erection and pushed me over onto my back. Then she threw the covers off, got up on her knees, and slid one leg over me, so she was sitting on top of my middle, with my erection trapped between us.

"I think I can help you with that problem, don't you?" she teased.

"Ah...yeah...sure," I gasped. I'm not sure I'd have called what she was doing right then helping. My erection felt as if it was getting harder, not softer.

She lifted her hips, reached down between us, and placed the tip of my penis between her labia, which felt soaking wet. Apparently I wasn't the only one who'd awakened ready for sex. Then she began lowering herself slowly. She tried to keep the look of lust from forming on her face, but couldn't quite do it. She also couldn't stop the sigh that escaped from her as my erection slid up into her. She leaned forward, put her hands on my shoulders, and began rocking her hips. "Does that feel good?" she asked.

"You know it does," I replied. I lifted my hands, cupped her breasts, rotated my hands a bit, and felt her nipples erecting against my palms. "Does that feel good?" I asked.

Her features had softened into even more of the look of need. She nodded. "Ah...yeah...it...um...it sure does," she murmured. She kept rocking her hips and my erection kept sliding in and out of her. I knew my need to come was growing rapidly and, judging from the fact that Hillary was moving her hips faster and faster, and making grunting and gasping noises, she wasn't any farther away from coming than I was.

"Come for me, baby," I said. "Let go. Come for me." I moved my hands so I could take her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers and began twisting them gently.

"Oh...oh, God!" Hillary gasped. Her movements became frantic and jerky and the grip she had on my shoulders got tighter. "Unnnnhhhhh!!! Ohhhhhhhhh!!!! Ohhhhhhhhhhh!!! Ohhhhhhhhhhh!!!!" she wailed.

That was all it took for me. Groaning, I exploded into her.

Once her orgasm ended, Hillary collapsed and laid on top of me. "God! That was so awesome!" she murmured. "Making love with you is always awesome."

I slid my arms around her and gave her a hug. "It certainly is," I replied. That was the problem, at least part of it. Having someone as lovely as she was available and wanting to make love with me was pretty damn heady stuff.

We finally dragged ourselves out of bed and into the bathroom to take a shower. For once, that didn't result in our making love. It appeared there were limits to my ability to perform after all. Once we'd finished in the shower, we had breakfast, then we headed off to face our day.

Hillary's changed attitude in class was even more obvious. She'd clearly read the assignment and was an even more active participant in class discussion than she'd been before. Not only that, she managed to draw the male students in the class farther into the discussion than they'd ever been involved before. I have to admit I was impressed. She was so far from the same sullen, angry girl she'd been when the summer class began that it was difficult to believe she was the same person.

"Good job in class today," I told her as she walked out of the room after class ended.

She blushed a little and said, "Thanks."

I spent the afternoon in the middle school, getting my office organized and having meetings with various members of the staff and faculty. I wanted them to know me and I wanted to get to know them. I was looking forward to the new year and my new job.

I finally headed home about four-thirty. As I drove, I found myself eagerly anticipating having the chance to see my young lover again. "This is wrong and you know it," a voice inside me said. "You know this is wrong. Why do you keep doing it?" "Because I can't stop myself," I said in my empty car. I'm pretty sure having an argument with yourself as you're driving down the road is a sign of some sort of mental illness, and that's exactly what I was doing. My debate with myself ended, however, when I pulled into my driveway and found Hillary's car sitting in the spot where she usually parked behind my house.

My heart was pounding a little and my insides were churning as I parked my car, got out, and started walking toward the house. Wrong what I was doing might be, but it was extremely heady, too. And there was no way I was going to be able to stop. No way.

The minute I walked into the house, I could smell something cooking. It was a familiar smell, a good one. Hillary walked out of the kitchen wearing a smile and a form-fitting red knit dress, not the same outfit she'd worn to school.

"Wow!" I said as I laid my coat and briefcase on a chair.

Hillary giggled. "You like my dress?" she asked. She turned around so I could see all of it. After she did that, she walked over to where I was standing, put her arms around my waist, and pressed herself against me.

"Actually, I was talking about how good it smells in here," I teased. "What are you making for dinner?"

"Yeah, sure you were talking about food," my teenage lover replied. "I could see the look in your eyes when you looked at me." She kissed me on the cheek and squeezed me a little. "And we're having meatloaf," she added. "I found the recipe and thought I'd see if I could make it as good as you do."

I slid my arms around her waist and hugged her back, then I kissed her soundly. "You're right. I love that dress," I admitted. "But I do love the cooking smells, too."

The dress looked fantastic on her. It was the kind of dress she should have been wearing on a date, not to spend clandestine time with a married older lover. Again I was filled with a mixture of guilt, desire, and elation.

Hillary looked up at me with puzzlement in her eyes. "What's the matter?" she asked. "You look sad."

"It's just that you should be wearing that dress for someone who's taking you out to dinner," I said. "Someone who can take you out to dinner and who has a right to see you looking as pretty as you do."

She hugged me and kissed me gently. I could see tears welling up in her eyes. "Stop talking like that," she said. "I'm here because I want to be. And I'm wearing this dress for you because I want to. I don't want to be anywhere else and I don't want to be with anyone else."

"OK," I said, surrendering. "How soon will dinner be ready?" I'd no sooner gotten the question out of my mouth than a beeping sound came from the kitchen.

Hillary giggled. "I think it's ready now," she said. "Or as soon as we can get the table set."

We set the table, then Hillary got the food out. We sat down, I took some meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and corn. Hillary was sitting across the table, looking at me carefully. She hadn't taken any food. "You going to eat?" I asked her.

"Try the meatloaf, tell me what you think," she said, looking a bit worried.

"OK," I said. I cut off a piece of meatloaf with my fork, then put it in my mouth, chewed it, and swallowed. It tasted even better than it did when I made it, but I purposely kept my face from showing any sign of what I was thinking.

Hillary kept looking at me anxiously. "Well?" she said. "Is it OK?"

I kept a straight face. "Compared to mine," I said, then I paused.

"Compared to yours, what?" Hillary asked. I heard a trace of doubt in her voice.

"Well, compared to this," I continued, "mine tastes like cardboard."

That comment got me the biggest, brightest smile I'd yet seen on Hillary's pretty face, plus a hug so fierce I was afraid she'd cut off my breathing.

"You really like it?" she asked when she finally released me.

I nodded. "I thought I made this as good as it could be made, but you proved me wrong," I admitted. "The gravy is really good, too. This is a great meal."

"You aren't just saying that, are you?" Hillary asked.

"No, I'm not," I told her. "I'm saying it because it's true. Now are you going to eat, or are you going to sit there and watch me eat?"

"I'll eat," she said. She put some food on her plate, then tried the meatloaf. "Hey, it really is good," she exclaimed.

"See, I told you, so," I said.

"Oh shut up," Hillary giggled.

We talked about school while we ate our dinner, then we cleared the table. While Hillary put the leftover food away, I put the dishes in the dishwasher.

"Now what?" Hillary asked when we were done.

"I have some paperwork I need to finish," I said.

"I suppose I should do my assigned reading," she said, grinning. "My teacher is really strict about that."

"It's for your own good," I said.

"Yeah, that's what he always says, too," she chuckled.

Hillary went into the living room and curled up on the sofa to read the latest book I'd assigned while I went into my den and worked on some paperwork I needed to get done as part of my new job. "This is getting way too domestic," I thought as I sat at my desk in my den, filling out the sheaf of forms I needed to get done. Every job has paperwork, but it seems there's way more in the field of education than in just about any other area.

I was just about finished when Hillary walked into my den. "You almost done?" she asked.

"Actually, I am," I replied. I turned my desk light off, stood up, and turned to Hillary. "You know, I need to apologize," I said. "You got dressed up for me and I've been ignoring you."

She walked over and put her arms around me. "That's OK," she said, "You had stuff to do. And I did have that reading to do anyhow."

"You really are special," I told her. I bent and kissed her. "What would you like to do now?" I asked after the kiss ended.

She shrugged. "I dunno," she said.

I had an idea and I have no idea where it came from. "Do you like to dance?" I asked.

Hillary looked surprised. "Ah...sure...um...yeah, why?"

"Would you like to dance with me?"

"Yeah, sure. Where?"

It was my turn to laugh. "I think it would probably be better if we did it in the living room where the stereo is," I said.

"Yeah, OK," Hillary said.

We went to the living room, found some CD's we both liked, and put them in the multi-disc CD changer. When the music started we moved into each other's arms and started to dance. Hillary was a marvelous dancer, it turned out. She pressed that wonderful body of hers against mine as we moved to the music and it almost seemed we'd melded into each other and become one person. I could feel her muscles moving under my hands.

She had her head nestled against my neck. "This is really neat," she said softly. "I'm glad you thought about doing it."

It was nice. Way too nice. I was enjoying it far too much. Especially since it had been ages since I'd danced with my wife. The pressure of Hillary's body against mine quickly banished any guilty thoughts from my mind and we kept on dancing. My body, as it always did, was responding to contact with hers. She tilted her face up and our lips joined in a soft, gentle, yet sensual kiss and we continued dancing. I'm not sure whether we were keeping time with the music or with music inside us and it didn't really matter.

While we kissed and danced, Hillary slid her hands to my butt and tugged on it, pressing us even tighter against each other. "Feels like you really like to dance with me," she murmured when we broke our kiss to take a breath.

I slid my hands down to her bottom and squeezed gently. "You better believe I do," I told her. "Did I tell you that dress is gorgeous?"

"Yes, you did," she replied.

"Did I also mention that you're gorgeous?"

"Ah...no, you didn't."

"Well, you are."

"You wanna go to bed?" she murmured, twisting her middle against my now-rigid penis.

"I...um...I think that would be an excellent idea," I replied.

We made our way to the bedroom, stopping to kiss and hug each other a number of times on the way. When we finally arrived, a bit out of breath, but both pretty darn turned on, we stood there looking at each other.

"There's a small problem with that dress," I said. My voice croaked a little.

"What's that?" Hillary asked.

"No...um...zipper or anything."

"No problem," she said. She reached down, grasped the hem of the dress, and pulled it up over her head and off, leaving her standing in front of me wearing a white silk bra and matching panties.

I think I was staring, probably gaping, at her because she blushed. The difference between her underwear and my wife's struck me. What Hillary had on was a lot sexier than anything my wife owned.

As I continued to stare at her, she reached behind her back, opened the bra clasp, and let the flimsy garment slide down her arms. I don't think she intended it to be a seductive action, but I'd never seen anything more seductive. With the bra off, she bent and slid her panties down. Her nipples were hard and her breasts moved wonderfully as she performed a simple, unthinking action she performed every night, but one I found incredibly arousing.

When she straightened up after taking her panties off, she gave me a puzzled look. "Aren't you going to get undressed?" she asked.

"Ah...yeah...I...I am going to...um...do that," I muttered. I started fumbling with the buttons on my shirt.

Hillary, naked and looking good enough to eat, giggled and walked toward me. God, parts of her moved so incredibly well! "Let me help you," she said. "What's wrong with you tonight?"

"Ah...I...I'm not...um...sure," I croaked in reply.

She got my shirt open, then she helped me slide it off. Next she undid my pants, which slid down around my ankles on their own. Gravity can be a great help sometimes.

"You want to take your own underwear off, or am I going to have to help you with that, too?" Hillary asked, her eyes bright.

I had somewhat gotten over the befuddlement watching her undress had caused me. "I think I can handle it," I said, and did while she climbed into "our" bed.

With my clothes finally off, sporting as good an erection as I'd ever had, I slid into bed next to my pretty teenage lover. She snuggled against me and gave me a kiss. "I want to spoon for a while," she said. "I love lying next to you like that." She turned her back to me and pressed back against me. My erection nudged against her bottom, then aided by the lubricant oozing from the tip, it slid between them and down, between her legs. "Oh! It feels so neat having you like that!" she purred, wriggling her bottom a little.

I started trailing my fingers lightly down over her arms and onto her legs, then back up again and felt her shudder.

"Oh, God!" she murmured. "I love how you do that. How can you keep your touch so light?"

"It's easy," I said. Up and down, up and down I moved my fingers, slowly moving from the back side of her arms and legs toward the front. She began squirming which, of course, was making me feel at least as good as I seemed to be making her feel. Since both of us were enjoying what was happening, I kept on. My trailing fingers slowly moved from her arms, to her shoulders, then across her chest and onto the sides of her breasts. There was a noticeable change in her breathing, the movement of her hips became more insistent, and soft sounds, like husky gasps, kept coming from her.

I caressed the side of her breast, then her belly, then the underside of both of her breasts, then her belly again, spending a little time running my fingers around her navel. Then it was back up, to the underside of her breast, then up between them. By now she was panting and her hips were rocking back and forth. With my erection snuggled between her legs and bottom, it was pretty darn close to actually making love. As she rocked, I could feel the tip of my erection getting wetter and wetter from the lubricating fluids both of us were producing. I could actually feel the tip of my erection rubbing against her labia and realized all I had to do was change my position a little bit. I managed to do what I needed to do to get in the right position.

I trailed my fingertips up over her breast and onto her nipple, which felt hard as a rock, as hard as my penis felt. The minute my fingers made contact with her nipple, I could feel a strong tremor run through her and she moaned. "Oh, God! Ohhhhhhh!"

I'm not exactly how it happened, but somehow the tip of my erect penis wound up inside her. I shifted my hips forward and most of the rest of my erection slid easily into her snug opening.

"Please, Ben, please!" she begged, reaching back, grabbing my hips, and pulling on them. "Oh, God, Ben, I need you so bad! Take me! Please! Oh, please, Ben! Take meeeee!"

I lunged against her, driving myself into her as deeply as I could. I wrapped my hand around one of her breasts and clutched it as I continued to plunge into her. I heard myself grunting as I shoved against her and heard her answering moans. The feelings rushing over me were absolutely incredible, so incredible I was pretty sure I wasn't going to be able to hold back my orgasm much longer.

Then ecstasy exploded through me like a hurricane. "Oh, Hillary!" I groaned when I felt my fluids racing up through me and gushing into Hillary. "Oh, yesssss, yessssssss!!!"

"Yes! Oh, God, Ben, yes!" Hillary moaned, her body bucking against mine. "Take meeeeee! Yesssss! Ohhhhhhhhhh!!! Ohhhhhhhhhhhh!! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"

We stayed in the "spoon" position even after our orgasms ended. "Oh, God!" Hillary groaned. "That was so awesome! I thought I was going to come when you touched my nipple."

"I did, too," I said, and kissed her on the neck and shoulder. "How about we go to sleep. I'm bushed."

"Me, too," she said.

I slid my arm around her and she laid her hand atop it, then we fell asleep.



Hillary: The Summer of '92 Ch. 07



From Benjamin Dornier's Journal

Tuesday, August 4, 1992

It feels funny writing this because it has been quite a while since I've found time to do any journaling. There have been almost daily meetings at school related to my new job and I continue to spend my weekends at the seashore with my family. Despite fears that my wife would somehow discern my relationship with Hillary, my lovely young student and lover, that hasn't happened. And my relationship with Hillary doesn't seem to have impacted my doing my "husbandly" duties, either. In fact, several times my wife's commented that this summer's separation seems to have done wonders for our love life. I'm not sure how I'm doing it, but apparently I'm managing. At least for now. And in seventeen days - but who's counting - my relationship with Hillary won't be a problem any more because she'll be heading off to college.

Hillary and I continue to see each other daily. After her parents came home, she had to stop spending the night, something both of us hated to give up. But their return didn't stop her from staying at my house until the wee hours of the morning. It did help that I gave her a glowing mid-course report on her performance in the summer school class that brought us together. The positive report wasn't a gift, either, she truly earned it. In fact, she'd almost taken over as discussion leader and had actually spent some time after class helping a couple of her classmates with their work, something she'd have never even dreamed of doing when she started the class. I am very impressed by the changes I've seen in her as a person and I've told her so numerous times, much to her embarrassment.

She got her period the last week in July, which bugged her, maybe more than it bugged me. "I hate this," she fumed after she told me what was happening. "We...we don't have that much time until August 21st and I have to go and get my damn period."

"Well, if I understand these things," I pointed out, "If you're regular, this means you won't be getting it again until the last week in August, right?"

"Yeah, so?" she retorted.

"Then you won't be getting it the last week we have, will you?"

That observation got me a fierce hug.

It was interesting that we still managed to have a great time together the week of her period, even though we couldn't make love. We talked about a lot of things, watched TV, made dinner, and generally acted like a comfortable married couple. I found it both enjoyable and troubling because I was worried that she might feel there was more of a chance for something more serious to develop between us. And I have to admit I was feeling far too comfortable with our relationship, too. It was really odd. On Fridays, when I was headed for the coast to be with my family, I found myself looking forward to the weekends as much as I ever had, if not more. And on Sunday night, when I was headed back home, I looked forward to seeing Hillary just as much. Maybe she wasn't the only one in danger of getting too attached.

Anyhow, Hillary surprised me again this evening. We were in bed. She was lying on her belly next to me while I trailed my fingers up and down over her lovely body, something I knew she loved. She was murmuring softly with delight while I did it. The sounds she was making were sounds I'd come to love hearing. And the skin I was touching was skin I'd come to love touching.

"Ben..." she said softly. She was lying with her head turned away from me and didn't look at me when she spoke.

"Yes?"

"There...there's something I want to ask you about," she said, sounding a bit tentative.

"You can ask me anything," I replied, continuing my caresses. "You know that."

"Ah...well...um...yeah, I know, but this...I'm afraid you'll think..."

"You're afraid I'll think what?" I asked. "Don't be afraid. If you have a question, go ahead and ask."

"Well..." She paused again. "Did you ever...with your wife...did you and she ever, um, ah, do it in the...um...rear?"

I have to admit that her question caused my partially hard penis to become a lot harder almost instantly. "You want to know if my wife and I have ever had anal sex, is that it?" I asked.

"Um...ah...yeah," she replied.

"No, we haven't," I said.

"Is that because you think it's...anal sex...you think it's perverted to do that?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

"Not at all," I said quickly. "I don't think anal sex is perverted at all. I have to admit we tried to do it, but it just didn't work for us, so we stopped trying."

"Oh," she said. "You really mean that, you don't think it's sick or perverted or anything?"

"Not at all," I told her. "Thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands, of people who engage in anal sex."

"Really?" she said. She turned her head and looked at me for the first time since our conversation started.

"Really," I said. "I think more people talk about it than do it, but a whole lot of people do it, too." I bent down and kissed her shoulder. "Why the question about anal sex?" I hoped I knew what her answer would be and found myself holding my breath while I waited for her answer.

"Well...um...when you...when you...ah...play with me down there, between my legs and all...I...um...noticed it feels really neat when you rub my...uh...anus...with your fingers," she explained.

"Oh," I said. My fingers continued their journey over her silky flesh and I hoped she couldn't feel them trembling. My erection felt as if it had gotten as hard as it could possibly get without exploding.

"And...I...I heard people talking about...you know...anal sex. One of my friends claims she did it and she says it feels fantastic. Anyhow...you're so gentle and all...I thought...um...maybe...you and I...we could..." she laid there, eyes wide as saucers, gazing at me.

"Hillary, are you saying you'd like us to try having anal sex?" I asked, wanting to be sure I wasn't hearing what I wanted to hear.

She nodded. "Yeah...I...I think I...I'd kinda like to try...if...if you want to," she whispered. "Do...do you want to?"

"I want to do anything that makes you happy," I told her. "But you need to know we have to be careful. I don't want to hurt you."

"Does...does it hurt?" she asked, sounding scared and showing a little fear in her eyes.

"It doesn't have to," I told her. "But we'll need to be careful. The last thing I want is to hurt you. It shouldn't hurt if we use enough lubrication and you're relaxed enough."

"Oh," she said, but the fear didn't totally disappear from her eyes.

"Hillary, I promise I won't do anything that hurts you," I told her. "I'd never do that."

"OK," she said. This time she didn't look even the least bit scared. "So we can't do it tonight, then?"

I grinned and shook my head. "No, not tonight. I'll stop at the pharmacy and get the things we need for tomorrow night." I paused. "If you really want to do this."

"I...I do," she said. "We can make love the regular way tonight, though, can't we?"

I chuckled. "Of course we can." I'd never stopped trailing my fingers over her body and kept doing so. "Spread your legs a little," I told her, and she did. My caresses moved to the inside of those gorgeous columns of flesh. I shifted position and spent a considerable amount of time working on her feet, then I moved up to her calves. It didn't take long before she was making the soft moaning sounds of arousal again. I allowed my caresses to move slowly up her legs, to the backs of her knees. "Oh, God, does that ever feel good!" she groaned. "I love the way you touch me."

"I love touching you," I told her. My caresses moved still further upward, to the baby-soft skin of her inner thighs. I've always loved caressing women - at least the few I've made love with - on their inner thighs. The skin there is so soft and sensitive, and it seemed even more so with Hillary. The longer I caressed her there, the more visibly aroused she became. Her hips were rocking gently and she was gasping and making nonsense sounds as my fingers drifted lightly over her ever-so-soft skin.

As my caresses moved closer to her vaginal area, which I could already see was glistening with the juices of her arousal, I had an idea, one I thought might give my young lover a special thrill. My fingers traced over the area where her legs and body joined, dangerously close to her labia, but not touching them. She groaned and the motions of her hips got more pronounced. I let my fingers drift up, over one buttock, across her lower back, then down over her other buttock, back to the junction area on the other side of her body.

"Oh, Jesus, you're making me crazy!" she moaned.

I trailed a single finger around the verge of her labia, downward, and rubbed it gently over her engorged clit. "Oh, God! Oh, yes!" she whimpered.

She was dripping wet and her lubricant covered my finger. I slid it up between her labia and her body rose, as if it couldn't bear to lose contact with my finger. Through her need-slick gap my finger moved, then it slid onto the little gap of skin covering between her vagina and anus.

"Ohhhhh!" she moaned and her hips jolted, when I teased her tiny nether bud with my lubricant-coated finger.

"Unnnhhh!" she moaned when I slid my finger back down to her vagina and gathered more lubricant. "Ohhhh! Oh, God!" she whimpered when I resumed teasing her anus. I circled the tiny bud, then rubbed my finger over it and my actions produced wild responses from Hillary.

While my left hand was toying with Hillary's magnificent butt, I slid my right hand under her and began teasing her clit with the fingers of that hand. By now her hips were moving up and down so fast it was almost as if she was vibrating. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her hands tearing at the sheets and blankets on the bed. Then she stiffened and her body went into what looked a lot like a seizure.

"Ohhhh!! Oh, God! Ohhhhh!!! Oh, Godddd!!! Oh, yesssssss!!! Ohhhhhhhhh!!! Ohhhhhhhh!!!" she screamed.

I kept toying with both her bottom and her clit until moans quieted down, her body relaxed, and she sank onto the bed and laid there, gasping for breath.

"Oh, Jeezum! That was so awesome!" she murmured.

I slid my hand out from under her, stretched out on the bed next to her, put my arm around her, and planted a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Did you like that?" I asked.

"Oh, wow! God, it felt so wild to have you playing with my butt!" she exclaimed.

"It did seem as if you liked it," I responded.

"Liked it? Oh, wow! That was one of the best orgasms I ever had?" she replied. "Are we really going to do it that way?"

"We will if you want to," I said. "But I want to take it easy so I don't hurt you."

She rolled on her side, pressed against me, and kissed me. "I know you won't hurt me," she said after the kiss ended. She reached down between us and grabbed my erection. "What are we going to do about this?" she whispered.

I kissed her. "Well, I was thinking maybe we could find someplace to put it," I responded. I slid my hand down and teased her slippery vagina with my fingers. "Is there room in here?" I rubbed her clit with the tip of my index finger. She gasped and squirmed.

"Uh...huh," she murmured.

"You want to put it there or should I?" I asked.

"Me...um...I...I'll do it," she responded. She pushed me onto my back and straddled me. Then she lifted her hips, placed the tip of my erection at her opening, and lowered herself onto my swollen penis. "God, I just came and I feel like I'm gonna come already!" she exclaimed, looking surprised. Her hips started rocking slowly and the look of lust I loved seeing softened her features again.

"Come if you want to," I told her.

"Are...are you close, too?" she asked.

"Not yet," I told her. "But that's all right. Go ahead, baby, let go. Come for me."

"But...but I..." A look of confusion formed on her face and the movement of her hips grew more and more frantic. "Oh, God! I...Oh, God!...I can't wait! I gotta come! Oh, shit, I gotta...Ohhhhhhhhh!!! Ohhhhhhhhhhhh!!! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!" Her body went into wracking spasms and I felt her vaginal tunnel caressing my embedded shaft.

When her peak passed she fell forward, lying atop me with my arms around her, still breathing hard. "What...what about you?" she murmured. "You...you didn't..."

I rocked my hips upward, thrusting deep into her. "You don't mind if I do this, do you?" I asked.

"Oh, God, no! That feels so good!" she murmured in reply. "Don't stop! God! You know how much I like that!"

I grabbed her butt and kept rocking my erection up into her. The increasing intensity of the sounds she was making and the way her body was moving more and more urgently against mine told me she was getting close to another orgasm. I slid my hand over her bottom, picked up some lubricant from where our bodies were joined, then I probed gently at her anus.

"Oh...Oh, yessssss!" she moaned, her body jolting against mine. "Again! Oh, God. Ben! I'm gonna come again! Oh, shit, I am coming again!! Ohhhhhhhhhhhh!!! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"

"Me, too!" I groaned in reply as my insides uncoiled powerfully, sending a gusher of my fluids into her.

We laid in each other's arms, with her atop me, for quite a while after we finished, letting our bodies calm. Hillary giggled when my softening penis slid from her, but she didn't move off me. I hated the fact that, before too much longer, she'd have to go home. During the first weeks of our relationship I'd gotten too accustomed to having her lying next to me all night. I slept in the bed - and bedroom - that had become "ours". I knew I had gotten far too fond of my teenage lover. Was I in love with her? Probably, if it's possible for a man to be in love with two women. Because I was still in love with my wife.



Hillary: The Summer of '92 Ch. 08



From Benjamin Dornier's Journal

Wednesday, August 5, 1992

Today Hillary came to school wearing a pair of faded jeans and a short sleeved top that was short enough to expose a delightful strip of her bare belly. It took all of the self control I had not to stare at her most of the time she was in class with me. Of course none of the other students would have noticed because they were too busy staring at the very thing I was trying not to stare at.

Hillary was the last one to leave class. Before she did, she stopped and stood next to me as I stood at my desk. "What time will you be getting home?" she asked very softly.

I looked at my watch. "I should be home a little after one," I told her. Then I did something that surprised both of us. I ran my fingers lightly over the expanse of silky abdominal skin her outfit left exposed.

"Ohhh!" Hillary murmured, shuddering.

I grinned up at her. "I've been wanting to do that ever since you walked in here this morning," I told her. "Now get out of here. I'll see you at home."

"You bet you will," she giggled. She turned and walked out of the room.

I sighed as I watched her leave my classroom. Hillary had a body built for jeans.

I didn't have any meetings after my class and I'd allowed myself plenty of time to pick up some items I'd need to help fulfill the request my adorable young lover had made the night before. I still hurried. I wanted to get home and have things set up before she got there.

When I got home, the first thing I did was trim my fingernails short and smooth them with an emery board to make sure I didn't hurt Hillary. Next thing I did was heat up some water to almost boiling. I poured the water in a heat-retaining travel mug and stuck the tube of lubricant I'd bought in the hot water. I'd learned long ago that there's nothing like a dollop of cold lubricant to instantly kill desire. I set the cup with the lubricant on the nightstand next to the bed and got a few towels. I was pretty much ready. And just in time, too, because when I turned around, Hillary, still dressed as she'd been in class, was standing in the bedroom doorway.

"I didn't hear you come in," I said.

"What are you doing?" she asked. "What's all that stuff for?"

"Things we'll need if you still want  to do what you asked about doing yesterday," I replied.

"Oh," she said.

I walked to where she stood, slipped my arms around her bare midriff, and kissed her gently on the forehead. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do," I assured her. "If you've changed your mind, no problem."

She wrapped her arms around my waist and shook her head. "I haven't changed my mind," she said, very softly.

I took a deep breath, inhaling her wonderful fresh scent. I have no idea what perfume she wore, if any. In my mind, what I smelled was the scent of youth and I loved it. As it almost always did, having her lovely young body pressed against mine produced an effect. Pressed against each other the way we were, Hillary couldn't help but notice.

She leaned back in my arms and smiled up at me. "Feels like you're happy I'm here," she said, her voice filled with glee. She twisted her hips back and forth. "I'm glad. I love it that I turn you on."

"How could you not?" I responded.

Holding my eyes with hers, she stepped back, reached down between us, and opened my belt. After that she undid the clasp at the waist of my pants, then the zipper went down, as did my loosened slacks. Her warm hand slid behind the waistband of my jockey shorts and I moaned when slim, lovely fingers wrapped around my erection.

"Oh, wow! You're really glad to see me!" she murmured. She began to caress my swollen shaft while, with her other hand, she tugged down my undershorts.

I was a bit surprised by how aggressive Hillary was being, but I didn't mind. I thought she might just want to enjoy a session of regular love-making before we took the next step in our plan to attempt anal sex. Her gentle caressing of my erection continued, making me moan softly. She'd learned what pleased me and seemed to take delight in doing it.

"You like that, huh?" she murmured.

"Oh, yeah!"

She pushed me backward across the bedroom until my legs hit the edge of the bed, then she sank to her knees and I moaned even more passionately when she took my erection into her mouth. She proceeded to turn me every way but loose with her lips, tongue, and fingers. Her head bobbed in and out and I could feel her lips dragging along the veined sides of my swollen penis. The feelings her oral caresses evoked were electric, as if sparks of erotic electricity were arcing between us. My chest felt tight and I could hear myself gasping.  It felt incredible! My legs were shaking and my penis felt as if it was getting harder and harder. God, if she kept doing what she was doing, it might explode! At least it felt that way to me and, of course, I was so turned on I wasn't really thinking clearly.

"Hillary, oh God!" I groaned when she cupped my dangling testicles in her warm hand and began fondling them. "Oh, baby, that...feels...so...good! Too...good!" I realized I was holding onto her bobbing head and had no idea when I'd taken hold of it. I had to fight an impulse to haul her back and forth on my erection. I was so turned on and what Hillary was doing to me felt so good I knew I wouldn't be able to hold back too much longer. "Baby, I...I'm gonna...I'm gonna...come...if...if you...if you don't stop...soon," I croaked, barely able to form the words and get them out through the waves of delight that crashed over and through me.

I was surprised when my young lover didn't stop what she was doing. It felt as if she was sucking on me even harder, her tongue was lashing the shaft of my erection, and her fingers were doing incredible things to my balls. It was as if she was trying to make me come!

"Hillary! Oh...God! Oh...God! Oh...Hillary!" I groaned. My hips were rocking back and forth as my body involuntarily kept time with my young lover's moving mouth. Then it happened. The wonderful feelings I was already experiencing jumped exponentially in intensity as my loins began pulsing, sending powerful jets of my hot juices gushing into my teenage lover's mouth. The grip I had on her head tightened and I held her on me while I sank to a sitting position on the bed because my quivering legs would no longer hold me. Hillary went with me, continuing to suckle and lick my erection, which began softening after my orgasm began to wind down.

Hillary finally let my now-flaccid penis slip from her lips, sank back so she was sitting on her feet, and grinned up at me. "Like that?" she asked, her eyes bright.

"Oh, God! It was unreal!" I gasped. I laid back on the bed, trying to get myself focused again.

The bed moved, then Hillary's smiling face appeared over me and her jean-covered leg brushed against me. I was still clothed from the waist up and she still had all of her clothes on. Her face dropped toward mine and our lips joined. I could taste myself on her as we shared a fervent kiss. It was a taste I'd long since come to enjoy.

I finally composed myself enough to sit up. When I did, I shed my shirt and undershirt while Hillary laid on the bed next to me, watching. I turned to her and said, "Stand up for a minute so I can get your clothes off."

Hillary giggled and stood up. So did I. She acted surprisingly shy when I pulled her top off over her head, then undid her bra and removed that. Her nipples were hard and as I bent and opened the clasp at the waist of her jeans, I managed to lick both of the rubbery buds of flesh. My action drew a soft moan from her. She sat down when I'd loosened the jeans and I pulled them down over her lean, gorgeous legs.

"Lay on your belly," I told her.

"O...K," she replied. Again her voice betrayed a trace of nervousness.

"You're sure you want to do this?" I asked.

"Ah...um...yeah...I...I'm sure." She stretched herself out on the bed next to me, on her belly.

I'd already decided to take things very slowly and gently, but knowing how nervous she was, I tried even harder. It seemed to me, beginning at the bottom was the best way, so I began by caressing her feet.

"Oh, God, that tickles," Hillary giggled.

"You want me to stop?" I asked.

"No way!" she replied. Her delectable body squirmed delightfully on the bed as I continued my caresses, paying careful attention to being thorough, working on the soles of her feet, her toes, and the top of her feet, too. I did each foot in turn. By the time I moved my attentions from her feet to her lower legs and calves, she was giggling and gasping. My attempt to relax her seemed to be working.

When I began trailing my fingers up and down over the silky warm skin of her calves, her giggles turned to soft murmurs of enjoyment. Keeping my touch as light as I possibly could, I trailed my fingers up and down along outside of one leg, then over her calf, then the inside. I did one leg first, then the other, taking time to thoroughly touch as much of her as I could. I looked up at my young lover's face and saw that her eyes were closed and she was breathing gently.

"You awake?" I asked softly.

"Um...hum," she replied sleepily. "Just...barely. That...that feels sooo...good."

I'd finished with her lower legs and moved my caresses to the backs of her knees.

The minute I began running my fingers over the skin at the back of her knees, she jumped. "Oh, God! That tickles!" she gasped.

By the time I finished teasing her knee area, Hillary was again wide awake and giggling so hard she had difficulty catching her breath. "You're...making...me...nuts!" she whimpered. "Oh, God, that tickles so much!" Her demeanor changed abruptly when I slid my fingers onto the back of a firm thigh. "Mmmmmm!" she moaned.

Since I'd been tickling the insides of her lower legs and knees, her legs were already apart. That allowed me access to the silky skin of her inner thighs as well as the rest of her delectable upper legs. I'm not sure which one of us was enjoying this more. It's difficult to accurately describe how wonderful her skin felt under my fingers as I caressed her incredible upper leg. The moans coming from my young lover were interrupted only by gasps for breath. Her body was trembling and her hips had begun a gentle rocking movement. From the way she was acting and the sounds she was making, I had a feeling Hillary was so aroused she only vaguely knew what was happening to her 

Touching her had an effect on me, too. I had an erection that was probably harder than it was when she'd been working me over with her lips and tongue earlier.

My fingers stole lightly all the way up the baby-soft skin of her inner thighs and I caressed the little expanse of skin between her legs and labia. The sparkling dampness adorning her pink lower lips told me just how turned on she was. Her hips jolted when my fingers slid over the sensitive skin. She rocked them from side to side, too, seemingly seeking my touch on her labia.

"Please! Oh, God, Ben, please!" she groaned.

"Patience, my darling," I told her. "Just lay there and enjoy this." I slid my fingers along the crease between her buttock and upper thigh, around her buttock, onto her back. Across her back I moved, stopping to carefully attend to each of her sacral dimples, then I moved around her other buttock, back to her leg, then down between them.

"Oh, Jeezum! God, Ben, you can't believe how good that feels!" the object of my attention whimpered.

This time I traced the outline of her vaginal area, just barely brushing her labia, moving up, toward the little expanse of skin between her vagina and anus. Her hips bucked upward as her body sought more contact with my tantalizing fingers.

"Oh, yesssss!" she hissed. "Oh, God!"

I spent quite a bit of time on the small area of flesh, clearly making her wilder, before I moved my caresses up between her buttocks. I purposely avoided touching her anus, although I doubt very much she was aware of that. Her hips were rising and falling and twisting almost constantly now. I knew all I had to do was reach under her and touch her clit and she'd explode. But I didn't do that.

While I trailed the fingers of one hand over her firm, wonderfully formed buttocks, I reached for the tube of lubricant I'd put in the cup of warm water on the nightstand. I silently thanked the person who'd decided to put snap-off caps on the tubs as I used my thumb to flip the tube open.

"Don't stop," Hillary murmured when I stopped caressing her to squeeze some of the lubricant onto the fingers of the hand I'd been caressing her with.

"Just a second," I told her as I made sure my fingers were amply coated with the warm, slippery gel. "I'm not stopping." I flipped the lid of the tube closed, laid it on the night stand, and turned back to my exquisite young companion. I slid my left hand down over her inner thigh, between her legs, and this time I touched her labia.

"Oh, yessss! Oh, God, yessss!" Hillary whimpered. The motions her hips were making became much stronger.

I slid my lubricant-slick right index finger down between her buttocks, onto her anus. I spread as much lubricant around the area as I could, then I began gently pressing the tip of my finger against the tiny puckered opening. At the same time, I slid the fingers of my left hand down and began caressing her swollen, slippery clit.

"OH, GOD, YESSSS!!" she cried and her hips rose. My finger slid inside her snug nether opening to the first knuckle. "OH...YES...OH...YES...OH, GOD...YES! GONNA...COME...GONNA...COME...MY...GOD...OHHHHHHH!!! OHHHHHH!! OHHHHHHHHHHH!" Her screams of joy were so loud I momentarily mused that it was good we weren't in a motel somewhere. Her wild rocking motions continued, drawing my finger deeper into her. After a surprisingly long time, her moans began to decline in volume, but didn't stop. "Oh...God...oh...God...Ohhhhhhhh!" Her motions became less fervent, too. After another lengthy period of moaning and motions, she took a long, deep breath, then she lay still.

I slid my finger out of her bottom, and pulled my other hand out from between her legs. I stretched out next to her, put my arm around her, and kissed her gently on the cheek. "Are you all right?" I asked her.

"Oh, God, I think I died and went to heaven," she murmured in reply. "That was sooooo awesome!"

"It sure was awesome to watch," I told her and kissed her cheek again.

"You had your finger in my bottom," she whispered. "I could feel it."

"It didn't hurt, did it?"

"No way! That's what made it feel so wild, I think," she responded. "When you first started, I wasn't sure what you were doing. I mean, that tickling and all..."

"I wanted you relaxed," I told her. "I didn't want you thinking about what I was going to do."

"Well, you sure did that," she said. She made a face. "I gotta go to the bathroom." She slid out of bed and padded toward the bathroom.

I laid in bed, watching her go. There are few things nicer to see than a well-built nude young woman walking away from you. It was a sight I'd miss once our affair ended.

A few minutes later I heard the toilet flush, then I was treated to an equally delightful sight, that of a well-built nude young woman walking toward me. The sight of her jellied breasts dancing as she moved across the bedroom literally made my mouth water.

Hillary cleared her throat and I looked up at her rosy face. "You embarrass me when you look at me like that," she said. She flopped down on the bed next to me, then she reached down and wrapped her fingers around my revitalized erection. "You want to do something about this?" she asked.

"Um...I was kind of hoping to," I replied. "I mean...that is...if you want to."

She giggled and kissed me. "When was the last time I didn't want to?"

"Good point," I responded and kissed her back. That led to our laying there, necking, for a little while. Kissing her was incredibly enjoyable.

"I want you," she gasped after we broke one of our kisses to get some air. "Do...do you want me to...to go on top?"

I nodded. "Face away from me, toward me feet, though."

She looked puzzled. We'd never made love that way.

"Trust me," I said. "There's a reason."

Hillary gave me yet another quick, passionate kiss, then she moved so she was straddling me, facing my feet. I ran my fingers up her back and she shuddered. Then she lifted her hips, placed the tip of my erection at her vaginal opening, and sank down onto me. "It...it feels different being on you like this," she murmured.

"It doesn't hurt, does it?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No way. It feels great, just different." She leaned forward and started moving her hips up and down while I kept sliding my fingers up and down her back. "Oh, yessss! That's so neat!" she cooed. As her motions continued, she began gasping and moaning. I could feel her fingers tightening around my ankles and her bottom began to smack audibly against my thighs. She was getting close to coming...and so was I. I reached over to the nightstand and got some more lubricant on my finger. Then, as one hand continued to move up and down her back, I slid two slippery fingers of the other down to her anus and put just the slightest bit of pressure on it.

"Oh, God! I love how that feels!" she exclaimed and pressed back against my fingers. I could feel her anus spreading to let them inside her. She had to twist her hips up a little and that caused me to experience some very interesting reactions as it bent my erection into a position I don't remember it ever being in before. I kept the pressure on my fingers and the result was that the more Hillary moved the farther they sank into her bottom. Then her back arched and muscles clamped down on both my fingers and my erection.

"I...I'm gonna...oh, God, Ben! I'm gonna come!" she cried. I could feel her fingernails digging into the flesh of my ankles where she had hold of them. Her bottom was moving so fast I was worried my fingers would go in too deep and hurt her, but she didn't seem to mind. "Oh...God! Oh...God! Ohhhhhhhhhh!!! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"

"Me...too...oh, God, yeahhhh!" I groaned when my second stupendous orgasm of the day exploded through me.

When our passion had finally expended itself, we laid there on the bed in the same position we'd been in. Hillary was lying on my legs, my softening penis was still inside her, as were my fingers. As my penis continued to soften, it slid from her. I finally was able to work up enough strength to pull my fingers out.

"You...you did it again," Hillary whispered. "You can't imagine how wild it feels to have something...in...in both...in both places." She rolled off me, turned, then slid up so we were lying next to each other again.

"You aren't hurt, are you?" I asked. I was afraid two fingers had been too much.

She smiled and shook her head. "No way. It's hard to describe how it felt," she said. "It stretched a little..." She took a breath and a gentle shudder went through her. "...but it was a really good feeling." She bent forward and kissed me. "Thank you," she said after the kiss. "You did it, you really did it."

"Well, sort of," I said.

She kissed me again. "I know, we didn't really 'do it' yet, but..." She took a deep breath. "Are we...you know...going to...to...do it...today?" Her tone of voice told me she wasn't sure that was a good idea.

I hugged her and kissed her forehead. "No, we aren't going to 'do it' today," I told her. "But maybe tomorrow...if you think you're ready."

I could feel her relaxing in my arms. "OK," she said softly. "Maybe tomorrow."




Hillary: The Summer of '92 Ch. 09



Part 9

From Benjamin Dornier's Journal

Thursday, August 6, 1992

Even though Hillary wasn't in my classes today, she was never far from my mind. I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that it was very likely she and I would have anal sex after I got home. And, even though Hillary didn't know it, if we succeeded, it would be my first time, too. My wife and I had made a few fumbling attempts at anal sex over the years, but we never completed the act because she always tightened up and couldn't complete it. And it really wasn't a big thing for me. If I'd never had anal sex for the rest of my life, I wouldn't have died feeling deprived. The fact that I might very well wind up having anal sex with Hillary had me about as wound up as I'd been since my teenage years, since the first time I was sure I was actually going to have sex.

Despite being distracted by my thoughts, I did manage to get through the day. And for the first time all week, I managed to get home early. I expected to have some time to set things up for what was supposed to happen later that evening. I wasn't expecting Hillary to be at my house when I got home, but she was. That did little to settle my heart rate, which felt as if it had been increasing geometrically every second after I left school. I was beginning to fear that I'd never get a chance to finish what I'd started with Hillary because I'd have a heart attack first.

I parked my car, got out, and walked into the house. Hillary met me at the door and gave me an excited hug and kiss. She had on a loose-fitting dress made of black soft material with a tiny flowered print. It had a wide neck and pleated skirt that dropped to mid-calf. And it also had tiny buttons that ran all the way from the wide neck to the hem. She'd left quite a few of the buttons on the skirt undone, I noticed as she walked toward me.

"You're home early," she said after the kiss ended. "I figured it would be at least another hour before you got here." She leaned forward and hugged me again. "I'm making dinner for us."

Her words made me realize that the house did smell as if something good was cooking. "What are you making?" I asked. "It really smells good."

"It's a chicken casserole my Mom makes," she replied. "I...I hope you like chicken."

"If it tastes half as good as it smells, I'm sure I'll love it," I told her. "By the way, you look fantastic."

She stepped back and twirled around to show me all of the dress. "Do you like it?" she asked. "I got it at the mall today. I thought maybe I'd change my image a little."

"It's gorgeous," I said. "It really is." I'd also noticed that her breasts had moved in a very interesting fashion and wondered exactly what she was wearing under the dress - if anything.

She walked back to me, put her arms around me, and pressed her face against my chest. "You know what I was thinking about when I bought it?" she asked softly. "It was one of the reasons I did buy it, actually."

"What were you thinking?"

She squeezed me a little and kept her face in my chest. "I was thinking that with the buttons all the way down the front, it would be easier for you to get off." Her voice was so soft I had to strain to hear what she said.

It was my turn to give her a hug. I also planted a kiss on the top of her head. "I'm thrilled you thought about that," I told her. I chuckled. "You know, I've always thought people who design women's clothing should give more thought to removeabilitly."

She leaned back in my arms and grinned up at me. "Yeah, sure, I bet," she said. A buzzer sounded in the kitchen. "I need to go finish getting dinner ready," she said, slipping out of my arms. "You don't mind if we eat early, do you?"

"Nope, not at all. How much longer before you're ready?"

"Maybe a half-hour, max," she said as she walked into the kitchen.

It gave me plenty of time to get things set up in the bedroom, which I did. The only thing I didn't do was heat water to warm the lubricating jelly because it would have cooled before I used it.

"Dinner's ready," Hillary called.

I walked into the dining room to find that she'd set the table and even had candles burning. "I'm impressed," I said.

My young lover blushed a bit. "Ah...I...um...I just wanted, you know, to make tonight special."

I walked over to where she stood put my arms around her, and kissed her gently. "Every moment I spend with you is special," I told her. "But this really is nice. Thank you."

"Um...you're welcome," she replied, still blushing. She was surprised when I held her chair so she could sit down. Clearly few boys her age had the same kind of training about how you treat a woman that I'd had.

She served herself, then I took some of the casserole from the dish setting on the table. I also buttered one of the rolls she'd made for us, too. "I'm really impressed, you made rolls, too," I commented.

"I...I didn't really 'make' them," she told me, blushing even harder. "They're the kind you buy in the supermarket."

I took a bit of my roll chewed it, and swallowed. "Well, you 'bake' them pretty well," I teased. "I don't think I've ever had a better one."

"You're teasing," she said.

"You caught me." I forked some of the casserole into my mouth, chewed, and swallowed. It was fantastic. And I told her so. "That's incredible!" I said. "I don't think I've ever had a chicken dish that tasted this good."

Hillary studied my face carefully. "You...you aren't kidding this time, are you?" she asked cautiously.

I smiled and shook my head. "I'm completely serious," I told her. "This casserole really is wonderful."

I don't think I've ever seen Hillary's face redder. "I...I hoped you'd like it," she said. "I wanted to do something special for you because...you know...you're...um...what you're doing."

"Well, you certainly did do something special," I told my rosy-faced companion, "The meal and the way you look certainly fit my definition of 'special.'"

Hillary surprised me even more when she produced a strawberry-topped cheesecake for dessert.

"You trying to fatten me up?" I asked as she carried two plates holding pieces of the cake to the table.

She giggled and set the plate holding my slice in front of me. "No, I'm not."

"Good, I have enough problems keeping my weight in line as it is."

"You're in good shape," she protested. "Besides, I made it with skim milk. That's all we have at home."

I laughed. "All right. I give up."

After we cleared the table and got the dishwasher going, we retired to the living room and settled down next to each other on the sofa. I was excited by the prospect of what we were planning later, but I needed to let my meal settle a bit before I progressed to love-making. And it seemed to me Hillary was more than a little nervous.

I turned and caressed her lovely face with my fingers. Her silky hair tickled me as I did. "You OK with what we're going to be doing later?" I asked.

She bit her lower lip and nodded.

"Remember, I told you we can stop any time. You should never, ever do anything you don't want to."

She nodded again. She took my hand, which was still caressing her face, and kissed my fingers. "I...I want...to....do it. I...really do."

"But you are nervous, aren't you?"

She nodded again.

"I'll try not to hurt you," I said. "But I have heard it can hurt. I'll stop if it does. OK?"

"OK."

"Did I tell you that you look incredibly lovely tonight?" I asked her.

She grinned and nodded. "Yeah, about a dozen times, I think."

"Well, you do look lovely. That dress is looks fabulous on you."

"I'm glad you like it."

"I love it." I bent and kissed her gently, sliding my hand around so I was cupping the back of her head as I did. As our lips joined, she took my head in her warm hands. The kiss started gently but, as our kisses tended to do, it quickly grew heated. Our tongues began exploring and lashing and the electricity of pleasure began to arc between us. It didn't seem possible for me to kiss Hillary without that happening.

"Sometimes I wish I wasn't going to college," Hillary murmured when, at one point, we paused our kissing to breath. "I...I don't ever want this to end...not ever."

I took a breath, about to respond to her comment, but instead I just resumed the delightful experience of necking with her. Right then, I felt the same way she did, wrong though it might be, and I was afraid I'd say things I didn't want to say.

Our making out progressed just as it always did, from kissing to grabbing at each other's bodies. "I thought so," I said when I slid my hand into the wide neck of Hillary's dress and discovered she wasn't wearing a bra. "No bra."

"I thought you might like that," she giggled softly. "I saw you looking at my breasts before."

"I'm not sure what I like more, looking at them, or touching them," I said. "No...that's not true. Touching them is way better."

"Oh, yeah!" Hillary groaned as I swept my thumb over a stiffening nipple. "You're right. Touching is way better."

I didn't want to stretch out her dress, so I started opening the little buttons that held it closed. Soon her gorgeous breasts were exposed and I was licking and sucking her nipples while she clutched my head, groaned, and shuddered. I kept opening buttons until there weren't any more to open, leaving her elegant body bare save for a very scanty pair of lacy white underpants I'd never seen before. Maybe the dress wasn't the only thing she'd bought to make this evening special.

Even though I did enjoy kissing her breasts, the sight of her nude loveliness made me want more, as always. I began kissing my way from her chest, onto her abdomen and her moans of delight got louder. Her hips had begun a rocking, twisting movement she was probably unaware of because the look on her face told me she was totally caught up in passion's thrall.

I kissed my way across the silky, warm skin covering her abdomen, feeling it ripple under my lips, hearing her moans of joy get louder. As I moved down over her belly, I pushed her panties aside and soon felt the soft caress of her pubic hair against my mouth and her moans and actions grew even more fervent.

"Uhhhh! Ohhhh! Uhhhh!! Ohhhh!" she whimpered. The twisting and rocking of her hips became more vigorous the closer my mouth got to her vagina.

Then my tongue was caressing her labia, so incredibly soft and so slick with the juices of need pouring from her as her excitement rose.

"Unnnnhhh! Ohhhhh!! Ohhhhh!" she whimpered. I felt her hands pushing at my head. I had moved so I was kneeling next to the sofa and Hillary was laying on it, one leg dangling over the side, her foot on the floor. I lowered my head between her legs, stiffened my tongue, and dragged it through the cleft between my lover's need-slick labia. "Oh, Jeezum!" she wailed, her hips arching upward. "Oh, God!"

I continued to caress her tasty opening with my tongue and at the same time I slid two fingers into her vaginal canal and began slipping them in and out while I concentrated the caresses of my tongue on her clit.

"Gonna make...me...cum! Oh, God! You're gonna...make...me...come!" Hillary wailed. Her hips were bounding up and down and her juices were flooding my mouth.

I lifted my mouth from her middle while continuing to slither my fingers in and out of her. I looked up at her lust-flushed features and said, "Come for me, baby. Come for me. Let it happen." I lowered my mouth back to her vagina and, almost immediately, she did exactly what I'd asked her to do.

"Uhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhh!" my teenage lover cried. Her back arched, lifting her twisting, rocking hips off the sofa, pressing her vagina against my mouth. I could feel her vaginal walls rippling along my embedded fingers as a powerful orgasm exploded through her. I kept licking her clit and fingering her and she kept coming. For a little while I began to wonder if her orgasm was ever going to end. Eventually her fervent motions began to calm. Her hips sank back down onto the sofa and with my fingers inside her I could feel that the rippling of her vaginal walls was decreasing. Her moans of bliss calmed, too. Eventually she was lying still, breathing hard.

I finally stopped kissing her middle and shuffled up so I was kneeling next to her upper body. I put one arm around her and leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips.

"That...that was...it was...unreal," she murmured softly. "You always make me feel so good!"

"That's the whole idea," I said, kissing her again. "You deserve to feel good."

I felt her moving, then she was touching my erection through my pants. "What about you?" she asked. She measured my swollen shaft with her fingers. "God, you feel as hard as a rock."

"Do you really feel up to making love after what we just did?" I asked.

She smiled at me and caressed my face with her fingers. "I always feel up to making love with you," she replied. "You'll make me feel even better if we do."

"OK," I said. I started peeling my clothes off. While I did that, Hillary slipped her dress out from under her and slipped her lacy panties off, then she laid back on the sofa lying as she had before, with one leg off the side, foot on the floor. I knelt on the sofa between her splayed legs, moved up between them, and guided the tip of my erection to her vaginal portal.

Hillary smiled up at me. "Take me," she murmured, her eyes full of fire. "I want to feel you in me."

I shuffled up a little more and felt my erection sinking into her warm, damp opening. Then I leaned over her, put my hands on the arm of the sofa above her head, and supported myself on my outstretched arms as my erection slid deeper and deeper into her welcoming body.

"Yesss! Oh, God, it feels so good when you're in me!" she exclaimed. Her legs locked behind mine and her hips began rocking, causing my deeply buried erection to lash her insides. Given the power of the orgasm I'd just given her, I was surprised by how feverishly she was engaging in our coupling.

I hadn't really planned for any of this to happen. I thought we'd sit for a few minutes, then move to the bedroom and get on with what we'd started the night before. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining that we made love. No way.

It would have been nice if I'd been able to stretch our love-making session out, but I was far too turned on for that. I was going to come, and it was going to be soon. I wasn't sure I'd be able to wait until Hillary and I could share an orgasm. Actually, I wasn't sure if she would even be able to have one. All I knew was my hips were plunging up and down, sliding my erection in and out of her, making me feel better than it seemed possible for a person to feel. Of course ever time she and I make love, it seems to feel better than it should, so...

I could feel Hillary's legs tightening around mine, and I could also feel her hands clutching my bottom as it moved up and down. "Take me! Oh, God, Ben, take me!" she groaned. "I...I can't wait! Oh, Jeezum! I can't wait! I'm gonna come!"

I guess it was the rippling of her vaginal walls, I'm not sure, but all of a sudden I felt my fluids surging up through my swollen penis. "Oh, God, Hillary! Oh, God! Yessssss! Oh, yesssssss!" I groaned as wild, wonderful sensations inundated me and my fluids gushed into her.

"Oh, yeah! Take meeee! Take meeeee!" Hillary cried. Her legs were locked tightly around mine, her fingers were digging into my bottom, and her hips were heaving against mine so hard it seemed as if she was trying to join our bodies. "Ohhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhh!"

Spent, I lowered myself onto Hillary, then managed to get us turned so we were lying side by side in each other's arms. She pressed herself against me and kissed me. "God, that was so awesome!" she murmured.

"It certainly was," I agreed. "I wasn't sure you'd be able to make it again."

"Every time you're in me, I make it," she replied. She wriggled more, pressing even closer into my embrace. "God, I don't believe how awesome making love with you is."

We laid there quietly for a while, allowing ourselves to recoup.

Hillary leaned back in my arms and looked at me. "Are...are we still going to...you know..." she asked softly. Her face reddened a bit, making her look absolutely gorgeous.

"Do you still want to?" I asked.

She bit her lip again and nodded. "Yeah...I do."

"Do you mind if we wait a while, though?" I asked. "I do have some limits."

She giggled. "Yeah, I think I need some time to rest, too." She sat up. "I gotta go to the bathroom." She rolled over me, got to her feet, and padded off toward the bathroom. Watching her walking around in the nude, whether she's coming toward me or going away, is an incredible treat.

While Hillary was in the bathroom, I went to the kitchen, heated a cup of water in the microwave, and took it to the bedroom. When I got back to the living room, she had just returned from the bathroom.

"Why don't we go to the bedroom?" I suggested. I pulled her into my arms and kissed her.

"OK," she said softly.

"You are sure you want to do this, aren't you?" I asked again.

"Ah...yeah...I...um, yeah...I'm sure," she answered.

With our arms around each other, we walked to the bedroom. Then we slipped into bed and cuddled and necked for a while. It was a gentle, loving time, the kind of sharing two people in love engage in. Was I in love with Hillary? Probably, although I didn't want to admit it. Was she in love with me? Probably, but she most likely feared saying so because she thought it would scare me away.

I finally got Hillary to roll onto her stomach and began teasing her legs and buttocks with my fingers. My gentle, light caresses had the same impact on her they always did. Her breathing became more labored, her body began twitching and moving, and soft moans and murmurs came from her. By now I was very clear what her unique signals of arousal were and she was showing every one of them.

After toying with her legs quite a while, I began concentrating on the inside of her thighs. I loved the silky-soft skin there. And Hillary clearly liked it when I touched her there because she spread her legs a bit to make it easier for me to do that. More and more, I began concentrating my touch on the area where her legs and body joined, barely brushing against her labia, the little area of skin between her anus and vagina, and circling, but not touching, her tiny nether opening. Her hips were making undulating movements and I'm not sure she even knew it.

"You're making me crazy!" she murmured. "God, your touch feels so neat!"

"Spread your legs a little more," I whispered, and she did. I got to my knees between them and looked at the sight before me. Her perfect bottom jutted up in the air a little bit, pushed there by the way her firm, well-shaped legs were positioned. Her back made a graceful curve up to her shoulders. And her tiny pucker was there, open to me, almost begging to be touched. Her hips continued their undulations and soft murmurs of joy continued to come from her. I ran my fingers up the back of both thighs, to her buttocks, and over them. Then I used one finger to circle her anus while I took the tube of lubricant out of the cup of hot water and flipped it open with my other hand. I stopped teasing with her bottom and squeezed warm, slippery fluid onto my hand.

"Don't stop touching me! Please don't!" Hillary begged. She pushed her bottom further upward, seeking my touch. "Please!"

I returned to caressing her, pressing my lubricant-drenched index finger right on the tiny rosebud opening we both wanted to feel me in.

"Yesss! Do it! Touch me there!" she purred.

I very gently massaged lubricant into the tiny opening and, as I did, I could feel it relax and begin to open a little. Eventually I managed to get my finger inside her. She was moaning almost constantly by now and once I had my index finger buried in her anus, her rocking hips resulted in my finger-fucking her bottom.




Hillary: The Summer of '92 Ch. 09



"Oh...Jesus! This...this feels so...Oh, God!...it feels so wild!" she whimpered as my finger moved in and out of her. "I...never...knew it...would be...so...so good!"

While my index finger continued to move in and out, I again took the tube of lubricant out of the hot water and opened it. I squeezed more of the warm, slippery fluid onto the finger invading her tight butt, and on the finger next to it. Then I pulled my finger out of her.

"Oh, God! No...don't stop that, it feels too good!" Hillary whimpered.

I pushed two lube-slippery fingers back into her anus.

"Ohhhhhh!" she groaned. "God! Oh, God!" She may have been moaning, but I knew what I was hearing weren't sounds of pain.

I resumed finger-fucking her bottom, moving my hand around a little, trying to open her more, to lubricate her, and to make room for the eventual entry of my erection which by now felt hard enough to cut whatever substance they use to cut diamonds. I wanted to be in her bottom so bad, but I had a feeling once I was finally there, I wasn't going to be able to last long.

After it her bottom seemed to have loosened up, I asked her, "Are you ready?"

"Are...are you going to...put...you know...your...um...in...me?" she stammered.

"If you're ready, I'm going to try," I replied.

"Do it!"

I slid front a little, until my bouncing erection slapped her bottom, then I squeezed some lubricant on it and made sure it was well-covered. Once that was done I pulled my fingers out of her, grasped my rigid shaft in my hand, and placed the tip against her anus, which was still spread open a bit from having my fingers in it. Very slowly I shoved my hips forward...and the slick tip of my erection slid off her anus and up through the valley between her buttocks.

"In me! Please!" she moaned. "Please put it in me there!"

"I will," I told her. "It's just that I'm not so good at this."

I repositioned the tip of my swollen member at her anus and held it in place with my hand this time when I began shoving gently forward with my hips. This time it didn't slide off. Instead, I could feel myself pressing into the tightest, warmest opening I'd ever been in. A rush of delight swept through me. I actually was taking Hillary's anal virginity.

"Oh, God! You feel gigantic!" my teenage lover groaned as I slid ever-so-slowly into a place that no man had ever before entered.

"Am I hurting you?" I asked. Part of me was scared I'd somehow do permanent damage to her. Another part of me wanted this so bad that not even a fire hose spouting icy water could have stopped me.

"God, no!" Hillary replied. "It's awesome! I...I never felt anything like it! It's so awesome!" She shoved her hips back a little, taking another inch or so of me into her.

Eventually I managed to get all of my erection into her. It felt as if I'd slid into an opening three sizes too small for me. It also felt incredibly good. I had to call on ever last bit of self-control I had to keep from spouting into her right then and there. I could feel her moving, then her hips began twisting and she began making even more fervent sounds. Hillary had started caressing her own clit.

"Do it!" she murmured. "Take me! Fuck me!"

I grabbed a buttock in each hand and slowly pulled my erection almost out of her, then I slid it back in slowly, but not as slowly as the first time I'd entered her.

"Yeah! That's it!" Hillary groaned. "Do that! Do it more!"

I kept sliding in and out of her, feeling the waves of incredible pleasure washing over me, fighting coming with everything I had, but I was rapidly losing the battle.

"This feels too good, baby, I'm going to come," I warned her.

"Do it! I want to feel it!" she responded. I could feel the movement of her hand on her clit grow faster. "I'm gonna come, too!"

I think I got two or three more strokes into her, then bright lights of joy began flashing behind my closed eyes and my body went into spasms of joy while ecstasy roared through me like a hurricane. I could feel my fluids being pumped up from my insides, through my pulsing erection, and spraying into her. I was making wild, animalistic sounds and my fingers were digging into her taut butt as I lunged against her.

"Oh...I...I can feel you! It's so hot! Oh, God! Oh, yeah! I'm cumming, too!" Hillary cried. Her back arched, she lifted her head off the bed and twisted it from side to side, making her hair whip back and forth. "Ahhhhhhhh!! Ohhhhhhhhhh!! Oh, damn! Ohhhhhhh! Ohhhhhh, yeahhhhhhh!"

As my orgasm calmed, I leaned forward, supporting myself on wobbling outstretched arms. Hillary's movements and the sounds she was making calmed, too, and she eventually relaxed onto the bed with my softening penis still ensconced in her snug opening. I didn't want to crush her, so I pulled myself out of her and rolled onto my side on the bed next to her, laying on my side facing her.

Hillary immediately rolled onto her side and pressed against me, kissing me on the face and lips. "God...Oh, God...that was so awesome!" she babbled. "Thank you for doing that for me!"

"I think I'm the one who should be thanking you," I told her when she allowed me enough time to speak.

"I have a surprise for you," she said after kissing and thanking me some more.

"Another one?" I asked. "Besides supper and that dress you were wearing?"

She nodded. "Yeah, besides them."

"What is it?" I asked. "If it's as good as the last ones were..."

"It's better," she said, interrupting me. "I can stay all night. I told my folks I was sleeping over at Melissa's."

I kissed her. "You're right," I told her. "That's the best surprise of the night."

We did finally have to get up to go to the bathroom, but after we did that, we snuggled into each other's arms and fell asleep. I was glad she didn't have to go home.