Revenge is Best Served on a Warm, Naked Body
by Robert Lubrican
Copyright 2021 Robert Lubrican
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18
This story was inspired by another one I read a long time ago. I liked it, but wanted to put my own spin on it. I do not generally support allowing a crime to occur without stopping it. In police work, though, when you catch somebody "red handed" that means you catch them while the crime is in progress. It's much easier to prosecute someone if you catch them in the act. And, allowing a putrid crime to occur was required by the plot of the story. That's all this is - a story.
A warning: Rape is referred to in this story and some details of those rapes were necessary to fill out the plot. The rapes are mostly "off screen", so to speak, and not especially graphic, but if rape is a squick for you, then reading this may be uncomfortable. On the other hand, if rape is your kink, it isn't glorified in these pages, and this book may not be to your tastes, either.
People's attitudes about their high school experience seem to vary based on their age. That's a broad statement, but it seems that way. The younger people are, the more their comments about high school seem to be negative. Conversely, as the years pile up, the fonder their high school memories seem to be. Some people who are in high school hate it, and have nothing good to say about it at all. Put thirty years on them, though, and somehow what they remember are the good parts. It's a little like childbirth. For some people it's agonizing while you go through it, but some chemical you don't even know the name of makes you forget all the pain, later.
Bobby Martin's experience isn't like that, though. He loved high school, with one exception. He got in trouble a lot. He enjoyed practical jokes and spent more time thinking them up than he spent on homework. Because of that, he went on many unwanted trips to the principal's office. He would have admitted he hated the principal, one Murdock Stevens, because Mr. Stevens was always on his case. He had no sense of humor at all. Bobby would have also admitted he was probably a pain in Mr. Stevens' ass, but pretty soon the man began blaming Bobby for everything that went wrong, even the things Bobby had nothing to do with.
They say you take the sour with the sweet, and the only reason Bobby didn't mind getting called on the carpet involved the fact that the principal was married to a woman who had to be at least twenty years younger than he was. Bobby knew she was his second wife, and that his first wife had gotten the kids in the divorce, but all that had happened when Bobby was in middle school. It had been a topic of discussion between his parents, at the dinner table. The "sweet" part of getting sent/called to see the principal was that he had pictures of wife number two all over his office, and every one was worth staring at for hours.
Her name was Tawny, and she looked like she might be twenty-five. He was probably fifty, and was a goblin. He had a pot belly and was going bald and he looked like he couldn't even lift a tub of cat litter. He had this wart or something, on the left side of his face, and it was impossible not to stare at it. It even had a hair growing out of it. She, on the other hand, could have posed for any men's magazine on the planet, and whatever issue she was in would sell millions of copies. For the life of him, Bobby couldn't figure out how she ever hooked up with Murdock Stevens. His personal theory was that somebody left him a ton of money, and he was only working because it gave him so much power. For a guy like that to be boning something that hot should be illegal.
Bobby got to see her in more than just pictures. She came to visit her husband frequently and she was also a substitute teacher. Tawny was tall, tan, and beautiful. She was probably 5'10" and built like a wet dream. Most of the time she wore dresses. They were usually short, coming several inches above the knee, and they showed off her long, tanned, and toned legs. She liked high heels, and erections followed her everywhere she went, whether it was in school or not. Even though she was young, she always called students by their last names, with the honorific "Miss" or "Mister" in front. The girls with boyfriends all hated her, but the boys wished for a teacher to be out sick, just so Mrs. Stevens might sub in the class.
The legs weren't the only thing she showed off either, because most of the things she wore hugged her body. She had some of the most perfect tits you have ever seen in your entire life. They were just the right size, perky and they looked firm, but still bounced when she walked. Finish that up with a beautiful face, always made up tastefully with a minimum of makeup, and a mane of rich brown hair with golden highlights that fell past her shoulders, and she was impossible not to fantasize about.
Bobby was constantly getting in trouble or pulling a prank of some kind. One night at a basketball game Bobby snuck down to the admin wing and managed to pick the lock to the principal's office. Once inside he closed the door and locked it again before he began to look around. He was looking for something to vandalize and it had to be something good. His eyes lit on an 8x10 photo sitting on the corner of his desk. It was a picture of Mr. Stevens' smiling, hot wife.
Right away he knew what to do.
Bobby slid his pants and boxers down to his ankles, grabbed the photo, and began stroking his cock. Within seconds of staring at her picture he was hard as a rock. He kept jerking away at his cock and in record time he was cumming all over the glass that covered her photo. His thick spurts of cum were splattered up and down the picture when he replaced it on his desk. He quickly pulled his pants back up and got the hell out of there.
The next morning at school he saw Principal Stevens walking down the hallway and he was clearly pissed off. As they passed each other he gave Bobby a glaring look but didn't say a word. There was no way he could be sure who ejaculated all over his wife's photo but Bobby was one of his prime suspects. Later that day Bobby was heading to the cafeteria for lunch and he had to pass by the principal's office. As he passed by his door he glanced into his office through the small window in his door and saw Tawny sitting in a chair, legs crossed, while she was talking to her husband. The teen got a slight boner thinking about her. He wished he'd thought to steal another of her husband's pictures of her, since then he could stare at it whenever he wanted to beat off.
The next week there was another basketball game and Bobby attended. At the game he sat in the bleachers with some of his friends. During a time out he saw Tawny sitting where there was a spot always reserved for her husband and her. It was up high, behind the table where they had the official clock and the stats guys sat. As always, she was looking good in a tight blouse and a short plaid skirt. She stood up to go somewhere and he got a shot of her amazing legs.
It was as she sidestepped past the other people sitting on that row that he got an idea. He told his friends he was going to the bathroom but then loitered until he could sneak underneath the pull-out bleachers and make his way towards where Tawny had been sitting. He was going to get a look up her skirt when she came back. She was sitting halfway up the bleachers so he could walk right to the spot where he hoped he'd be able to look up and see something worth remembering. He was standing there when he saw her shoes appear, side-stepping in front of other fans and, for a split second, before she sat back down, he got a shot of pale blue panties that had been pulled up tightly enough that her camel toe showed.
That peek wasn't enough. He waited for her to stand up again.
There were about ten minutes left in the game, which was very close. Whoever won this game would be one game from deciding who would go to state, so everybody was excited.
That meant they stood up a lot.
Bobby had to have something to remember this by. He pulled out his phone and made sure the flash was disabled. As she stood he snapped off about ten pictures and then fled before the game ended and a stream of people would be walking by the exit from under the bleachers. He mingled with friends, but didn't go out to celebrate their win. Instead, he went home and downloaded the pictures onto his laptop.
They were perfect. He had to lighten them a little, but it was clear that the pussy lips that made that camel toe were fat and lush. He couldn't tell if she had pubic hair or not, but it didn't matter.
That was when he got the idea that would get him in trouble (again) and change his life, forever. He chose two that were especially good, and with his photo editing program, put text at the bottom that identified just whose camel toe was in the shot, and when it was taken.
Then he printed off ten in a 4X6 format, on photo paper. On Monday, three days later, he sold all ten prints for five bucks apiece.
Over the next week he ran out of photo paper and had to go buy another pack of a hundred. The things sold like hotcakes. He sold fifty of them, roughly. He didn't keep track, but his bank account swelled.
Two weeks later John Stallman got caught smoking weed in the bathroom and got expelled. When the staff cleaned out his locker, they found the print Bobby had sold him. It was given to Principal Stevens and the hunt was on for the cretin who had done this. He started hauling all the usual suspects in, including Bobby. Most of them claimed ignorance, but Bobby knew somebody would break, and he was right. It took two days, but then he was sitting inside Principal Stevens' office because someone Stevens put the arm on ratted him out. The man's face was bright red with anger and for a few minutes he didn't say a word.
Of course Bobby denied it. He said it was just something he'd seen on the internet and printed as a fake. But Principal Stevens must have known his wife's underwear, because he said it was hers. Once he was finished chewing Bobby out he called his parents and his dad came from work to pick him up. When his dad got to the principal's office Principal Stevens tried to convict him without producing any evidence, but his dad insisted on seeing it. The principal was clearly reluctant, but finally showed his dad the photograph. His dad snatched the photo out of Murdock's hand and looked at the front and back. Bobby suspected he was enjoying this, but all he did was glare at his son.
"Did you take this photo?" he asked.
"It was a joke," Bobby tried.
The principal jerked the photo out of his dad's hand.
"Suspension!" he snapped. "Eighteen days! And be happy it isn't longer!"
His dad took him home. He didn't say anything. Bobby knew that eighteen days was the maximum the principal could suspend someone without a formal hearing. Technically, anything over two weeks could be appealed to the school board. That, of course, would mean that the board would see the photograph. He thought about how the men on the board would look at that picture and smiled.
Of course his dad searched his room when they got home, and found his stash of unsold pictures. He grounded him, but Bobby was pretty sure that one copy would go in his father's secret stash before the rest were destroyed. His dad wasn't computer savvy, and when Bobby promised to delete "the" photo, he left him alone. He did delete most of them. But he kept two.
His mother, of course, ruined everything by saying they would not even think about appealing the suspension. She worked part time as a receptionist for a law firm and, while the lawyers there were willing to believe all their clients were innocent, she knew better. Her opinion was, "Some people are guilty and should take responsibility for their actions instead of trying to wiggle out of it."
It was always a little awkward every time he saw Tawny from then on. He usually tried to avoid her and he did a pretty good job of it. There was one day however when she was subbing and he was walking to the cafeteria for lunch. She was supervising in the cafeteria, standing at the entry, and he had to walk right by her.
She stared at him as he approached. He had a look of panic on his face and she showed no mercy.
"Why, Mister Martin," she said. She knew his name? "How's the intrepid photographer, today?"
His heart sank as he realized her husband had told her.
"I didn't mean to embarrass you," he mumbled.
"How kind of you," she said.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"Well, no hard feelings, I suppose," she replied.
She dropped her eyes to the front of his pants as she said that. It was like she was teasing him! Then she gave him a little smile and turned to survey the lunch room. Bobby got his meal and sat down. He kept glancing at her and, one time, he saw her looking at him. Then she looked away, like nothing had happened.
Bobby was a senior, and graduation came soon. He knew that Principal Stevens was probably elated to get rid of him. After graduation he worked all summer and then stayed in Julian and enrolled in the local junior college, to get all the common core subjects out of the way before he went to the state university. It was cheaper, even though his parents insisted he have his own apartment.
"I don't want you to turn into one of those people who never leave home," his father had said. "We'll help you with the rent, but you still have to work." His mother had said he was welcome to come to their house for dinner every so often.
His apartment was one that had been used by countless students before him, and it was tiny and run down, but he didn't care. The tuition wasn't as much as it would be at a four-year college and it was also nice to still be able to see all of his friends. Bobby thought his dealings with Murdock Stevens (and his wife) were over.
Not so much, as things turned out.
It was a warm September day and school was well underway. Bobby was nineteen and his classes in college didn't look like they'd be that hard. He'd finished up his morning classes and had just filled up his car at a gas station. He didn't have a credit card, so he had to go inside to pay. He was waiting in line to pay for his gas and a drink when he heard a sultry voice from behind him.
"Where's your camera, bad boy?"
He turned around and he couldn't believe his eyes. Tawny Stevens was standing behind him in line. He just stared and she smiled.
"I thought you'd have a quick comeback," she said. "No?"
He felt his face get hot and knew he was blushing. Nervously, he said, "Uh ... Hi."
It was his turn to pay so he turned to take care of that. Other people in line were beginning to stare at them. That wasn't unusual. Lots of people stared at Tawny. As he turned to leave the counter she touched his elbow.
"Don't leave, yet," she said, her voice low. "I need to talk to you."
He went and stood by his car. He had no idea what was going on, but some little voice in his head told him to do what she'd said. He saw her coming. She had on a sun dress that came up to mid thigh and showed a ton of cleavage. How the fuck did Principal Stevens snag this wondrous creature? She came and stood right in front of him.
"So, what ... private ... photographs have you been taking lately?" she asked.
"None," he said, bluntly. She was a babe, but he was tired of being afraid of her. "I thought you said there were no hard feelings."
"There aren't," she said. "I'm not mad at you. It's just kind of fun to torture you." She giggled and then frowned. "I don't have much fun, lately."
"I find that hard to believe," he said. "I know I apologized already, but I've had time to think and it really was a stupid thing to do. I'm glad you didn't hold a grudge about it."
"No grudge," she said. "I decided to take it as a compliment. You went to a lot of work to get that photograph. But you obviously still feel guilty. You want to make it up to me?" she asked.
"How would I do that?" he replied.
"Follow me to my house. I have a car load of groceries that you can help me unload. There's cat litter and other heavy things."
He got in his car and waited for her to start hers, then followed it to her house. She didn't take him to the fancy part of town, where the rich people lived. Instead, she stopped at a normal, ordinary house on Jefferson Street. It was in the original part of town, where the houses were old, but well kept up. He was a little nervous but it was just the nervousness of any guy being around a stone fox. Usually, a guy in a situation like that feels lucky, but it's also hard to believe she'd notice him, much less enter into a conversation. Then there are the inevitable (even if unwanted) flights of fantasy that zip around in his head.
When he walked up to her car he said, "Your husband is at school, right?" The last person Bobby wanted to see was Mr. Stevens.
"Yes," she said, shortly. There was something in her voice that sounded angry, but it wasn't there when she went on. "He won't be home until 5:30," she replied. "He's been working a lot of overtime, lately."
It was about 1:00 then so he had plenty of time to finish helping her and not have to see her husband. Tawny opened the back door of her SUV as he stood behind her waiting for her to hand him a bag or two. She was right. She had a ton of groceries in there. They made four trips and, as they got to the end of the groceries, she had to lean farther into the car every time to get the bags. Every time she bent over, her skirt rose higher and higher until the last time he could see the bottom of her firm ass cheeks peeking out from underneath her short dress. On this day, her panties were yellow.
She stood back to reveal two tubs of cat litter. He picked up one in each hand and they balanced each other, but it was still 80 pounds of cat litter. She smiled as if she knew exactly what he had seen, and exactly what she was doing to him. He followed her inside and she closed the front door and locked it. She told him to stack the litter in the pantry.
"You look like you could use a cold drink," she said, when he came out.
"That sounds nice," he replied. She got him a can of Coke from the fridge and he stood in the kitchen to talk with her (watch her, actually) as she began putting away the groceries. That dress was both low-cut and loose, which was interesting because the counter had been covered and some bags had to be set on the floor. That meant she bent over time and time again to unpack things and he got to see that she wasn't wearing a bra under that dress. He couldn't see everything, but he could see enough that it fueled his teenage imagination. He got a new appreciation for how firm those luscious tits must be to avoid sagging and flopping around under her loose dress.
Oddly, as he was enjoying her cleavage, an errant thought popped into his mind. Principal Stevens was working lots of overtime?
"I wouldn't think a high school principal had to work overtime," he commented.
"I wouldn't, either," she said. That tight anger was back in her voice.
"He must be having discipline problems," he said.
"Why would you say that?"
"Because that's the only reason I can think of that he'd have to stay late. If he had a whole string of kids to yell at, he might do it after school."
"There's another reason he might stay late," she said. She looked at him. "Actually, you might be able to help me with that, too."
"Beg pardon?" he said. Her comment made no sense.
She folded her arms under those delightful breasts and leaned back against the counter. She just looked at him for a few seconds.
"What did your girlfriend think about you sneaking under the bleachers to look up another woman's skirt?" she asked.
"I didn't have a girlfriend, at the time."
"Do you, now?"
"No. My priorities are to study so I can get a scholarship when I go to OU," he said.
She seemed to think about that for a moment. He sipped his Coke. He had no idea what was going on, but he was curious to find out.
"If I told you something private, do you think you could keep it private?" she asked.
"I guess so," he said.
"You have to do more than guess," she said. Suddenly she was a substitute teacher again, an adult, and her tone was serious. "You can either keep a secret, or you can't."
"I can keep a secret," he said. "What's confusing me is why you'd tell me one."
"Murdock got a vasectomy while he was still married to his first wife," she said.
Wow! That was a bomb! He wondered why she was telling him this.
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked.
"Because that information is important for the rest of what I'm going to tell you," she said.
"I'm confused as to why you want to tell me anything," he admitted.
"I think you'll understand, shortly," she said. "Can you be patient, as well as discrete?"
"Are you torturing me again?" he guessed.
"I sincerely hope that you don't think of what I'm going to propose as torture," she said.
"Okay," he said. "I don't understand, but go on."
"Murdock has a ... thing ... for young girls," she said. "I suspect it's one reason why he married me."
"Wow," he said. The thing that had been bugging him for a long time bubbled up. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure," she said.
"How is it that a woman like you ended up with a guy like him?"
"A woman like me?" She arched an eyebrow.
"You're beautiful," he said. "You could have any guy you wanted. So ... why him?"
"We all make errors of judgment," she said. "I met him when I was in college and he was attending a course he needed for his continuing education requirements. He was older ... more stable than college boys ... or so I thought, at the time. It was flattering that an experienced man would be interested in me."
"But he's ... ugly," Bobby said, artlessly.
"There's more to a relationship than looks," she said. "I saw him as a man with an important position in the community. He had a good job. I was broke, finishing up college on student loans. My chosen profession wasn't going to pay well, and I saw my future as being difficult. I wanted to teach, but I also knew repaying my student loans would mean I'd continue to be broke for years, maybe ten or fifteen years. Responding to his overtures gave me a way out of that burden."
She dropped her arms and smoothed her skirt over her thighs.
" I thought I could grow to be fond of him. I wasn't worried about him being fond of me. I'm aware I have certain ... features ... that men find attractive. I assumed he would appreciate them for a long time."
"And he ... hasn't?" Bobby guessed, though he found that impossible to believe.
"Oh, he's still horny as a three-antlered goat around me," she said, casually. "The problem is ... I'm not enough, anymore."
"What does that mean?" he asked. The concept of not being satisfied with Tawny Stevens' hot body was incomprehensible.
"It means he's blackmailing some of his female students, making them have sex with him."
Bobby stared. This was impossible. It was impossible on multiple levels. First, he couldn't think of anything serious enough that blackmail would convince a girl to have sex with a troll like Murdock Stevens. Second, how could a girl do that without throwing up? Third, how did he think he could get away with it? She had to be wrong.
"You have to be wrong," he voiced.
"I wish I was," she said.
"How do you know?" he asked.
"Like you, I wondered why a man in his position would have to work overtime. I have a key to the school, and I went there one night to find out what he was doing. What he was doing was fucking Mandy Nichols on the floor of his office."
"That must have been awkward," said Bobby as his stunned mind conjured up an image of the principal and Mandy Nichols, naked on the floor.
"Oh, he doesn't know I saw him."
"You didn't bust in there screaming and shouting?"
"No. I assumed the little harlot had seduced him."
"Well, that's crazy. I knew a lot of girls in high school, and all of them hated him."
"You didn't let me finish," said Tawny. "I waited, and when he got off of her, she asked him how many more times she had to do this before their agreement was finished and he wouldn't tell her parents."
"Tell them what?"
"That wasn't discussed, but it was obvious he had something over her and she was there under duress."
"Oh," he said. "So, what did you do?"
"Well, Mandy wasn't hurt, or crying or anything. He's cut, so he can't get her pregnant. I decided I needed evidence, hard evidence, so that when I took action, he'd pay big time."
"Okay," said Bobby.
"So I set up a nanny cam in his office. It's in a book on his bookshelf. He keeps those books there for show and never opens them."
"I have video of him porking four different girls," she said.
"Fuck me to tears," he blurted.
"Not just yet," she said, calmly. "I have the evidence to get him arrested, but I want revenge."
"Having him sent to prison isn't revenge?" he asked.
"I want a different kind of revenge," she said.
"And what is that?"
"The best kind of revenge is served on a warm, naked body," she said.
"I don't think that's how the saying goes," he said.
"He's cheating on me. I'm thinking I should cheat on him," She said. "I'm going to turn him in and divorce him. But before I do, I want to take a lover. Then, after the divorce, he'll find out that cheating can work both ways."
Bobby had a fertile imagination and it started kicking out fantasies about Mrs. Tawny Stevens ... cheating. And about who she might cheat with. Not that they were serious fantasies. There was no way he would be involved in anything she did. He had no idea why she was including him in her ... scheme ... but it wouldn't be in the role of her lover. That was for sure.
"Okay, so why are you telling me all this?" he asked.
"I know what your grades were like. You were a good student."
All this did was make him more confused.
Suddenly she smiled.
"I get it. You don't get it."
"You're right. I don't get it," he said, helplessly.
"I want to cuckold him," she said. "I want to get pregnant before I turn him in."
"Pregnant?" he whispered.
"Yes. He's sterile, remember? So if I show him a home pregnancy test that's positive, he'll know some other man got me that way."
"Fuck me," he sighed. "Please, don't ever get mad at me, okay? That's some serious revenge!"
"It is," she agreed. "I feel bad that those poor girls will have to endure it for a little longer, but the nanny cam suggests none of them are being hurt. He doesn't force them, physically. They're all afraid of something he'll tell their parents."
Bobby remembered something from when he was in high school.
"Hey," he said. "I remember a time when Christy Belltone and Todd Richards got caught having sex in the locker room after a game," he said. "It think it was Mr. Stevens who caught them."
"I remember that," she said.
"Neither one of them got kicked out of school," he said.
Her eyes widened.
"So he catches kids having sex, and then threatens to tell the parents, unless the girl submits to him!"
"It's plausible," he said. "Except surely not every girl would go for it. He is a goblin, after all."
"Even if a girl accused him of making an indecent proposal, it would be her word against his, and if he exposed her, everyone would believe she got caught doing whatever and was just trying to retaliate against him," said Tawny. "You know, shift the focus of attention. Avoid punishment."
"Trying to avoid punishment doesn't usually work. I've been suspended before," he said.
"I'm aware of that," she said, her voice neutral.
"What I mean is, it's really hard to keep up with your classes if the suspension is a long one. If he threatened to tell her parents and suspend her for a month, that might do it," he said.
"It's still not voluntary, and I feel bad about making them do it until I can get pregnant."
"So turn him in and then get pregnant," he suggested.
"It's just not the same," she said. "When I expose him, I have to divorce him. Nobody in town would respect me if I didn't."
"You don't have to divorce him until he's convicted," he pointed out. "Until then you could be the loyal wife, who doesn't believe the charges are true. Except you wouldn't be loyal in private."
"But if I turn him in, everybody will know I know the charges are true," she groaned.
"So turn in the evidence anonymously," he said. "Send it to the cops by mail, or something, with a letter of explanation about what we suspect his game is."
"That's a good idea! It won't matter where the videos come from. They are plain evidence that he's having sex with underage girls, who cannot legally consent."
"Then, there you go," he said. "Problem solved. You send the cops the videos and get pregnant while he's awaiting and going through a trial. Trials like that always take forever. You'll have plenty of time to get pregnant."
"That's a good plan," she said, putting one fingertip to her lips. "Except for one thing."
"What's that?" he asked.
She looked at him with eyes that seemed to look down inside of him.
"I wanted to get started on the getting pregnant part today," she said.
"Beg pardon?" he said, a little weakly. It had sounded like she wanted to have sex today ... right now!
"Well, you're obviously interested, right? I mean you did go to a lot of work just to get a picture of my panties."
"It wasn't that much work," he said. He wanted to slap himself on the forehead. What a stupid thing to say!
"So you're not interested." Her voice was flat.
"No, I am!" he blurted. "I mean anybody would be. But ... me? Why me?"
She looked him up and down.
"Well, let's see. My husband hates you more than any other student he's ever had. That counts for a lot, considering I'm trying to punish him way beyond prison. Suppose he gets off, somehow, and doesn't even go to jail. He can't escape knowing that it was you who knocked me up. That's the main reason. But you're also cute, and inventive, and you did go through a lot of trouble just to get a peek at my panties. I'm not saying you shouldn't have been suspended. That was only justice, but it made me think about you. Then there's the fact that you look like you might provide good genetic material. I think you'd make a pretty good baby. Lastly, you're not slavering all over me just to get a piece of ass. I actually like that, to be honest. I made a snap judgment at the gas station, and I was worried about it, but after talking to you, I feel much better."
She stopped and just looked at him.
"So?" she asked. He could sense some underlying, invisible anger.
"Okay," he said. "You've been honest with me, so I'm going to be honest with you. The idea of ... umm ... what you propose ... really is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, especially for a guy like me. And I should jump at it."
"But?" She looked tense.
"I guess it doesn't seem like there would be any romance to it," he said.
"Don't tell me you're old fashioned about sex," she said. She smiled.
"So what if I am?" he said, feeling defensive. "I want children some day, yes, but I'd kind of like that to happen with a woman I had a future with. I want to be in my kids' lives. If that's old fashioned, then I guess I am."
"So you think I'm treating you like a stud horse, and I'm the mare," she said.
"Well, it kind of seems that way," he said. "It's just not very sexy."
Again, he wanted to slap himself for saying stupid things. He couldn't count the number of times he jerked off to the fantasy of lying on top of Tawny Stevens' soft, supple body while he just fucked screams of joy out of her. His mouth blurted what he was thinking.
"I was the one who jerked off on your picture in his office. Did you know about that?"
She turned away from him. He wouldn't find out until much later she did that because she was smiling.
"Yes," she said, facing away from him. "Murdock told me about that. He offered to show me the picture, but I declined."
"Why the fuck would he want you to see it?" he gasped.
"I was clearly his trophy wife, though I didn't know it then. He thought it would turn me on that someone who couldn't have me did that. He said it had been done out of frustration, because some boy couldn't find a girlfriend. He almost bragged that this boy had gone to that much effort. Were you frustrated?"
"Nope. I just had all these fantasies about you, and that was a chance to kind of thumb my nose at your husband."
She turned back around.
"I'm glad it was you who did it," she said.
"What?" He hadn't meant to confess that to her, but once he did, he thought she'd decide somebody else could stand at stud for her. It was a way out of this situation for him. What confused him was why he wanted a way out of this situation.
She ignored his question and asked one of her own.
"What if we started slowly? What if we engaged in tons and tons of foreplay? You know, like teenagers do when they make out? Even if we don't work up to what I proposed, I'd still be cheating on him with his arch enemy. I'm sure it would be fun. I could teach you how to make a girl happy."
"I know how to make a girl happy!" he boasted. His face fell. "Okay, I know in theory how to make a girl happy."
She smiled. Her fingers went to the buttons that went down the front of her sundress.
"So maybe all you need is some lab time ... you know ... to sort of hone your technique under the supervision of a teacher. I am a licensed teacher in this state."
He swallowed as the breasts he had dreamed about for literally years were exposed to his wide eyes. They were even better than he imagined. They reminded him of Demi Moore's breasts in Striptease, except they were pale. He had been wrong about her not having tan lines. She definitely had tan lines. Her nipples were a shocking bright pink, set on slightly darker areolas, and they were erect, like she was excited.
"These are the girls," she said. "Girls, meet Bobby. I'm hoping Bobby will want to have a play date with you."
He knew she was looking down at her hooters as she talked to them, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. His eyes were moving like he was being administered a field sobriety test by a cop moving his pen as fast as windshield wipers set on high. He couldn't decide which one to look at.
"You're drooling, Bobby," she said, gently.
He realized his mouth was hanging open and closed it. He felt saliva run from the corner of his mouth to his chin and hastily reached up to wipe it off.
"I'd very much like to see what you look like naked," said Tawny. "As you pointed out, I've had to make love to a troll for all these years. It might be nice to see a handsome young man's body for a change."
He had his standards. They had been taught to him by his parents, and they had sunk in. But now he was working on something else, something more elemental, something deeper than where he made conscious decisions about right and wrong. She might be in complete control of herself, but he wasn't. When she said she wanted to see him naked, he stripped for the 'girls', who were still staring at him with unblinking eyes.
It was her gasp of, "Oh my!" that pulled him up out of that deep place.
"What's wrong?" he asked, resisting the urge to shake his head to clear his thoughts.
"Nothing's wrong. It's just been so long since I saw one like that."
He tore his eyes off the 'girls' to look at her face. She was staring at his groin and he looked down to see he was fully erect. His mind might have been reflecting on right and wrong, but his body understood what was really going on here.
"Sorry?" he said, trying to guess what was the right thing to say in this situation.
"Don't be sorry," she sighed. "It's beautiful."
"His isn't?" he asked, artlessly.
"His is half that size," she said. "It works fine, when he's willing to use it correctly. He's always been pretty good about that, even while he's been screwing those girls. But that will fill me up like I haven't been filled since I was your age."
"Oh," he said.
She stepped closer to him, right up to within an inch. The tips of the 'girls' gently touched his chest. She took his chin in her hand and made him look at her.
"You're a virgin, aren't you, Bobby." It wasn't a question and he was suddenly staring into Mrs. Stevens' (the substitute teacher) eyes.
"Remarkable," she said, still looking into his eyes. "For a boy as handsome as you to have gotten this far without sex ... it's just remarkable."
She stepped back.
"Suddenly I feel like I'm robbing the cradle," she said.
He sensed she was pulling back.
"No!" he gasped. "You're not."
She picked up his Coke from the counter, where he'd set it when he disrobed. She took a long sip, and set it back down.
"So you were reluctant, but now everything is okay?" she said.
"I'm ... I don't ... I mean ... I just ... it's okay," he stammered.
"Will you promise me something?" she asked.
"I won't tell anybody!" he gasped.
"Not that," she said, "though that's part of the deal, of course. No, what I want is for you to promise to learn how to give me oral sex after I suck that lovely penis of yours. Will you promise me that? I don't want you to leave me high and dry, Bobby Martin."
"I promise," he wheezed, with the little breath that was in his lungs. They didn't seem to be working normally.
"Pinky swear?" she asked, extending one slim hand.
He managed to get his hand up and she hooked his little finger with hers.
"Now," she said, pulling him by their interlocked little fingers. "I think you should sit down for this. You don't look too steady."
She took him to the couch and he fell backwards onto it. She got to her knees and her hands moved his knees apart. He watched through a tunnel as her face got closer and closer to his boner.
He was afraid he was going to pass out and miss it.
He didn't pass out.
The second he felt the heat of her mouth on the glans of his penis, the tunnel opened up. All he could see was all that lustrous hair. In a very quick, errant thought, he imagined that his pubes had suddenly grown a foot long.
He had seen blow jobs being given in porn videos, but this wasn't like that. She sucked just the tip for what seemed like hours, but he was sure was only seconds, swirling her tongue around the knob. Then she shoved her face forward and his entire cock was engulfed in wet heat. She pulled up and coughed, and then sucked about half of it, creating a strong suction but not moving her head. He felt the suction release and she went back to the tip. She pulled off and looked up at him with a smile.
"I'm not used to having this much in my mouth," she said. "I've missed this."
"Urg," he responded, unable to form actual words.
She went back on and then pulled off to stroke his penis several times. Again, she looked up at him.
"Are you sure you don't want to put this in me? I'd really love to be stretched and filled."
"Argnmph," he answered her. It meant he wasn't sure of anything anymore.
"Maybe later," she said.
Then she sucked his cock like it was a popsicle and she'd been stranded in the desert for days. It was like she was trying to drink from a clogged straw.
"Wmphft!" he warned her.
When he went off, it made no difference to her. She sucked and swallowed and then sucked some more. Her fingers tickled his balls and she went all the way on again. This time she didn't cough but her throat squeezed and let go in a rhythmic manner that milked every drop from his poor, aching testicles.
Finally she pulled off with a last suck and there was a slight popping noise as her lips closed. She leaned forward to kiss his chest and then his chin and finally his lips.
"You have to fuck me with that," she whispered.
"Not ... for ... a year ... or ... two," he panted. "It will ... take me ... that long ... to ... get ... hard again."
"My turn!" she yipped.
Suddenly she wasn't a woman in her late twenties. Now she was an anxious, horny girl who wasn't telling him to stop, or take his hands away, or that things were moving too fast. She pulled him up and, as he stood there, shimmied out of her sundress. Almost like magic she bent and those yellow panties were on the floor. She stepped daintily out of them and then flopped down on the couch with her legs spread wide. There, in front of him, was the wet dream that was Tawny Stevens. Her pussy lips glistened. They were fat and luscious, as he had imagined them, and they pulled apart to give just a hint of the dark tunnel that led inside her. Something milky formed a flawed cobweb stretching from one swollen lip to the other. She reached with both hands to spread her labia apart even further and exposed the startlingly big bump that he knew was her clit.
"Suck that," she said, putting one dainty painted nail on the bump. "Lick it and suck it and play with it until I scream."
He leaned in to examine things and her hands reached to grasp his hair. She pulled, and his face mashed into her naked, wet, warm pussy. He licked once, as his nose rubbed that bump, and then he moved his lips up to capture the little nub between them. He squeezed his lips together like he did when he "bit off" a string of spaghetti, and she whined. That sound, the whimpering groan that came from her throat, made his dick try to get stiff again. It failed, and his balls ached some more.
He sucked, trying to get the whole bud into his mouth, but it slipped out. He tried again, and it turned into a game of nip, pull, and let it pop free, only to do it all over again.
"Yes!" she gasped. "Just like that!"
He was aware that an empty vagina was right there, and he had to explore. He did that with the index finger of his right hand, and found a warm, not-so-tight enclosure. He added his middle finger and pushed. Her hips bumped up and both the quality and volume of the noises she was making increased.
Suddenly he was frustrated that he couldn't get her clit into his mouth and keep it there. It kept popping out.
So he bit it gently with his teeth, and pulled, just a little, as if he were trying to stretch it and make it longer.
He almost hurt her, because when he did that her whole body writhed. It was her grip on his hair that prevented him from biting too hard, or pulling too much. It was her scream, though, that made him let go of her poor clit. He was afraid he'd hurt her, because that scream was loud, so he lapped at her slit with the flat of his tongue, just trying to soothe it.
Her grip on his hair never let go, and she pulled his face up and away from her sex. She pulled it up her body and his eyes barely saw the belly ring in her navel as they passed by. She brought his face to her breasts and used them as a towel to rub her juices off his face. Then she pulled his head up until she could kiss him.
His desire for romance was fulfilled in that kiss. She kissed him with a passion that was undeniable. This was no business-like formalization of a pact. This kiss was proof that, at least for the moment, she really wanted to kiss him, make out with him. Her tongue seemed to fill his mouth, and he sucked on it. Her hands moved all over his back and his chest rested on those amazing, firm pillows that were her breasts.
She kissed him for what seemed like hours, and then finally pushed him back.
"Are you hard again, yet? Please tell me you're big and long and stiff."
He actually couldn't feel his penis, which scared him a little and he leaned back on his knees and looked down. There for all the world to see, was another very nice, quite normal looking boner.
"I am!" he said, surprised.
"Ohhh thank you," she sobbed, and pulled him up as she scooted her butt almost off the couch.
He knew what she wanted, and this time he had no reservations. As his prick got near to her quim, she reached for it and tugged, until the tip nestled between swollen lips.
Then she leaned forward, reaching for his hips, and dug her fingernails in.
She pulled and he sliced into her like a sword sinking into an unprotected belly in the heat of battle. He entered her in one fast lunge as her hips thrust upward. Just as he felt the tip of his prick run into something spongy, he felt the flesh surrounding the base of his cock flatten his pubes and her pussy lips.
"Oh fuck yes," she groaned as her head fell back. Then it came forward again and their noses bumped. "I need this, Bobby. You have no idea how much I've missed a thick, strong cock in my pussy. Please don't stop."
"I don't know how," he gasped. Actually, he felt wonderful just like he was. His cock was gripped tightly in a steaming sheath. All he wanted to do was push harder, so he could get even more in her. He didn't have more to give her, but he still wanted to.
"Move it in and out of me," she panted. "Just a little, just a few inches."
He pulled back and she reached to diddle her clit. When he pushed back in, his body ran into her fingers, but all she did was flatten them and let his body weight push on them. Then when he pulled back again, she wiggled her fingers sideways. It seemed almost technical, except that her voice started making those noises again that communicated straight to his cock that he was making her happy. He wanted to make her very happy, at that point in time.
"Don't stop!" she gasped again. Her head fell back again and her whole body tensed. He felt her vagina clamp down on his penis, too, so tightly that he felt glued inside her. Then it released and fluttered as she groaned and moaned and whined and even cursed a little. He didn't know what else to do, so he just kept doing what he had been doing. She had told him not to stop, after all.
Finally her hands went to his shoulders. He slowed and waited. He was still hard. He hadn't cum. He hadn't even thought about cumming. He was too busy learning how to make her squeal like a little piggy.
Her head came up and her eyes opened.
"You're dangerous," she said.
Her hands went back to his hips and got him moving again.
"You're very good at this for a virgin," she said. "Actually, you're very good even for a man with experience."
"Thank you?" he said.
She laughed and her pussy squeezed him in time with her laughter.
"Suck my nipples. Murdock doesn't like doing that. He says it makes him feel juvenile."
He ducked his head to suck at one distended, pink nipple. This was more like it. He could get the whole thing in his mouth. It was fat and rubbery and fun to suck.
"I could get another one, but I want you to cum," she said.
He let go of the nipple and looked at her.
"Oh, I'm sure," she said, firmly. "Right now there's not another man in the world whose sperm I want to have in me. Cum in me, Bobby. Give me your seed. I want to have a baby."
He stood there on his knees, with his cock firmly embedded in her body. This was her revenge against a cheating husband. He knew married people had fights. He even knew that sometimes they cheated on each other and then got over it, or at least stayed together. Would she be sorry, later, if she got pregnant by him now?
She seemed to be able to read his mind.
"This isn't just for revenge anymore, Bobby," she said, stroking his cheek. "I've always wanted children. Murdock couldn't give them to me, and I knew that when I married him. I just thought that children were something I'd have to give up. But now I can have a baby, and I meant it when I said I want it to be yours. I know we don't know each other, but I can tell you're a decent, thoughtful man. Yes, I'll also have my revenge, but more importantly, I'll have a child to raise."
"What about me?" he asked.
"I don't know. I won't lie. I didn't think about that part. I'm going to stay in town, though. I like it here. My friends are here. You'll always be welcome, wherever I live, and we'll find some way for you to be in your baby's life. Is that enough for now?"
He still hadn't gone soft. As he thought back on it, he suspected that was because her gorgeous, naked body was right there and her pussy kept squeezing his prick.
"Do you want to make a baby with me?" she asked, softly.
He nodded, but it was that deep, dark part of his psyche that made him do it. It was that old, ancient part of his humanity that wanted to breed this woman and produce offspring.
"Then cum in me," she whispered. "You made me feel fabulous. You're a much better lover than Murdock and you haven't even broken a sweat, yet. Make me feel fabulous again by giving me your precious seed."
She was speaking to that dark part of him, whether she knew it or not. Instinct took over and he started moving in her again. This time he didn't move a mere couple of inches. Now he almost removed it and then slammed back in. He tried to speed up, but his cock slipped out and rubbed upwards along her slot. She yipped in dismay and reached to slot him in her again. He shortened his stroke and that solved the problem. Her breasts wobbled in front of him. If he did get her pregnant, those breasts would make milk to feed his son or daughter.
He leaned forward to suck her nipples again, and the combined sensations of his cock moving in her tight pussy, and those lovely, rubbery nipples, brought the cum boiling from his balls. They ached again as his cock belched three times, moving his sperm from his body to hers. Her hands stroked the back of his head.
"Yes," she whispered. "Thank you."
The first time a couple have sex, it can be awkward in the aftermath. They have been incredibly intimate and, during the act, naked bodies made things better. In the aftermath, however, nudity can become embarrassing. It was for him, but not for Tawny. She took it all in stride. It was he who was awkward and shy. She kept up a chipper, one-sided conversation, telling him how happy she was, and what a good idea this all was. It wasn't until she realized he wasn't speaking, and pulled him against her for another scorching kiss, that he no longer felt like he was walking on thin ice that was about to break any second.
She put her eyes so close to his that their noses mashed against each other.
"Don't you dare pull away from me," she said. "Things have changed. I'm no longer your substitute teacher. We're partners, now. You're my secret boyfriend."
"I can't be your boyfriend," he scoffed.
"You can be in secret," she said. She grinned. "I feel like such a cougar."
"Cougars are older than you," he said.
"It doesn't matter. We're partners, now. You have no idea how good I feel, how good you made me feel. I could get addicted to you, Bobby Martin."
"I think I'm already addicted to you," he mumbled.
"Good. Now. It just so happens that this is a good time for your little swimmers to get a chance at my egg. When can we get together again? Tomorrow?"
"I have class at eight and nine-fifteen," he said. "Then I have a three o'clock English class."
"So a nooner again," she said. "Okay."
"Does he ever come home for lunch?" he asked.
"Never. I suspect he uses the lunch hour to line up whatever girl he's going to abuse after school. I always eat lunch with him when I'm working, and he always seems a little distant. I might be cramping his style."
"What an idiot," he sighed.
"He has a disease, a mental illness that makes him crave young girls," said Tawny.
"There isn't a single girl at that school, or in college, either, who I'd choose to be with over you," he said.
"Awww. You're sweet. I'm not used to that, either. You make it easy to want to seduce you."
"Well, you definitely did that," he said.
"Don't be grumpy," she said, reaching to touch his chin. "I really did have the best sex I've had in probably ten years. You might be my secret boyfriend for a long time."
"Wouldn't that make you a woman who craves younger men?" he teased.
She didn't think that was funny.
If he'd had a brain in his head, he would have known that it wasn't.
Not in her situation.
She told him to go so she could take a shower and appear normal when Murdock got home.
She got up and walked around nude, not bothering to put on even a robe. His balls ached some more as he glanced at her while he pulled his clothes on.
"I can feel you leaking out of me," she commented. "That's different, too. When he cums in me, that doesn't happen. He doesn't produce as much fluid as you."
"If it leaks out it just means I just have to put more in," he said, still trying to be cute.
"Finally, he acts like a man," she sighed.
She wasn't exactly short with him. It was more like she was businesslike. He felt a sinking sensation in his gut. Would this ever happen again? He wasn't so sure.
She walked him to the door, still naked, and he felt better when she kissed him before she opened it.
"Thank you," she said, again.
"You're welcome," he said, automatically. "Are you ... um ... happy about today?"
He felt like an insect under a microscope as she gazed at him.
"More than you know," she said. "Now go. The neighbors might notice your car having been here a long time, or you leaving. Jog to your car, as if I kept you too long. Wait! Give me your phone."
He did and she punched in numbers.
"I put my cell in your phone. It's under Jenny. Call me tomorrow when you get out of class."
"Would everybody in town instantly know who Tawny was, if they found your phone and searched the contacts?"
"I guess so," he admitted.
"And would everyone in town wonder why the principal's wife was in your phone?"
"Yes," he said.
"Go. I'll see you tomorrow."
His dad was cool, but his mother still treated him like he was in high school. She had that mother radar, too. She worked mornings three days a week, and afternoons the other two days. She had called him to invite him to dinner that night and he went, thinking he needed to act normal. That started to unravel as soon as he walked in. She looked at him and said, "You're early. What happened?"
"Life happened," he said, hanging his book bag on a kitchen chair. "I've spoken English all my life, but you couldn't tell it from my test scores. At least the other kids and me all have trouble."
This was something near and dear to her heart. She had ragged on him for misusing various aspects of his native language many times. Her favorite was when he mixed up "me" and "I". She and he argued about it all the time. To be honest, he knew the difference now, at least for those words, but he'd slip the wrong word in there just to distract her, once in a while. It worked this time, too.
She corrected him and then said, "I thought you had English on Wednesdays," she said.
"I do. I was cleaning out my book bag today and found last week's pop quiz," he said, thinking fast. "It reminded me I need to study more in that class." He picked his book bag back up. "Speaking of which, I'm going to go do that while you finish supper, okay?"
"Good. I'll call you when it's ready."
He was slightly amazed. It seemed like the world was too brightly lit, and he was moving through it in three-quarter speed. He had had sex for the first time in his life. He looked at his watch. It was 3:23. He'd lost his cherry just over an hour ago. He felt completely normal, except he could still imagine her taste, and the feel of her pussy walls fluttering around his prong.
Despite having been "kicked out", his bedroom was still the way it had been when he left home. He went there to 'study' but thinking about Tawny gave him a hardon.
He went to the bathroom and jerked a load out of that boner.
But it wasn't nearly as much fun as shooting in her mouth or pussy.
It was also surreal that supper, that night, seemed as normal as pie.
How could the world have changed so much, and yet not changed at all?
Bobby got out of class at ten, and tapped on "Jenny" in his phone contacts. It only rang twice before she picked up.
"I'm in the back yard," she said. "I'm working on my tan."
"I've seen you naked. You don't have a lot of tan," he teased.
"Which is why I'm working on it," she said. "I might be in the pool when you get here. There's a gate on the side of the house. When you come in, lock it with the padlock hanging there. I don't want anybody else coming in after you're here."
"You have a pool?"
"You're wasting time on the phone," she pointed out.
Her end went dead. He'd been hung up on! Then again, she seemed eager and that stroked his ego.
He parked his car at the convenience store three blocks from her house and walked the rest of the way. He took his book bag with him, but it wasn't a conscious decision. When he got to the house, he noticed the fence around the back yard for the first time. It was tall, probably eight feet tall, and that was just the tightly spaced wood pickets. Evergreen trees of some kind had been planted inside the fence, and they were three feet taller. It was a fence within a fence, and it was very private. It also helped with the wind. They lived in northern Oklahoma, and the wind blew every day. There was a running joke about that. Why is Oklahoma so windy? Because Texas blows and Kansas sucks. Ha Ha.
He found the padlock where she said it would be and carefully closed it on the hasp. She was swimming laps in the pool as he turned the corner into the back yard. It didn't take her long to swim a lap. The pool was only twenty feet long, or so, and maybe fourteen wide. It looked like it was one of those preformed fiberglass jobs that they drop into a hole in the ground. But it also had a concrete pad poured around it, and it looked nice for a hot day.
There was a single wooden chaise lounge at one end of the deck, with a colorful beach towel draped over it. He'd never seen a lounger like it. It kind of waved in the middle, with the head higher than the foot and a hump between them. He would later comment on how sturdy this lounger was. He saw what might have been a robe lying on the concrete beside the lounger.
He looked at her cutting through the water. Her hair flowed behind her and he could see pale, naked skin where her body was. Her feet broke the surface and disturbed the image. He walked to where the robe was and set his book bag down. He was watching her when she came to the near end and stood up. Her hands went to gather her hair into a long ponytail and she did that thing women can do with a scrunchy from around her wrist.
"Enjoying the view?" she asked, proving she knew he was there. She hadn't looked directly at him, yet.
"Very much," he said.
"Come on in. The water is great."
"I didn't bring a swim suit," he said.
"I didn't either," she said.
He felt distinctly uncomfortable, disrobing in the open air, even though he knew nobody could see through or over that double fence. She was watching him, and that didn't help. He'd never thought of himself as a particularly buff guy. He didn't play sports, except when his dad dragged him out on the tennis court, and he wasn't very good at that. When he dropped his drawers and stepped out of them, he had to suppress the urge to cover his genitals with his hands.
"You don't look like you're enjoying the view," she commented.
"What?" He was confused.
"You're soft, silly," she said.
He looked down. He was, indeed, as flaccid as a flat tire.
"Come stand over here," she ordered, patting the side of the pool.
He shuffled over there and she reached to grab his hips and pull his toes so they hung over the edge. Her face was level with his cock.
"Yum," she said.
"Even soft, you're big," she said. His ego perked up.
"I wouldn't know," he said. "I've never compared it to anybody else's."
"Surely you've seen other boys ... young men, in the locker room at school."
"It is a major social gaffe to stare at another guy's cock in a situation like that. If you're even caught glancing, it can generate unhappy rumors."
"What a pity," she said. "If I were in a boys' locker room, I'd stare at them all."
"You could get away with it," he said.
She looked up at him. Her eyes were dark green, something he'd never noticed before.
"I'd want to play with them all," she purred.
"If you were naked, they'd all be stiff as a bar of iron and ready to be played with," he said.
"Aren't you jealous that I'd want to touch them all?"
"You aren't mine," he said. "I still don't understand why I'm here, like this ... why you chose me, I mean. I feel like I'm on a buzz from some really good weed."
"Please don't tell me you smoke pot, Bobby," she said. Her words carried censure, but her tone did not.
"A couple of times," he said. "I don't buy it. It's too expensive. I've been to a couple of parties where somebody had some and took a few tokes."
"Wanna get high today?" Her eyes were guileless.
"You're kidding," I said.
"Murdock brings home all the dope he seizes at school," she said. "He tells people he flushed it, but he doesn't."
"Principal Stevens uses drugs?" His knees felt weak.
"He has more than one habit the school board wouldn't approve of," she said.
"I'm not sure I'd trust anything he seized at school," he said. "That's another reason I don't smoke a lot. You never know where it came from or what's in it."
"He's been doing this since long before he was a principal," she said. "He's pretty good at identifying the source of most things. In his defense, he doesn't take the pills he seizes, or any powders. He really does destroy those. But he likes his pot. I only use it every so often," she said. "I like a buzz when I'm having sex."
"And we're going to have sex today?" he said.
Her hand went to play with his cock, which had lifted its head a bit, waking up and peering around.
"We're going to have a lot of sex today," she purred.
When she got out of the pool he imagined a mermaid with feet, instead of fins. She looked nothing like Disney's Ariel, but he had a little fantasy that some kind of magic had let her become land-bound. She told him to take a dip and cool off while she went in the house. When she returned, she had something bulky in one hand, and a little plastic baggy in the other.
The "something" turned out to be what she called a cannibaphone, which she said Murdock had bought at a head shop in Norman. It was ceramic, with a black glaze finish. He supposed you could say it looked like an old timey phone with the bowl being where the microphone would go, and the mouthpiece where the ear is. That mouthpiece, though, was a good two inches across, and the way you smoked it was to seal the mouthpiece around your lips, and then inhale. The bowl was really small and she said it was actually designed to smoke hash oil. She liked to smoke bud in it, though, because the little bowl held the perfect amount for a single person to get high.
He would have never characterized it this way, but there is something sexy about a naked, good-looking substitute teacher instructing one of her students on how to use a cannibaphone. By the time they fired it up, he had a very nice erection. While he sucked on the phone, she sucked on his cock.
He had to say this for Murdock. He knew what to keep and what to toss, when it came to seized marijuana. He smoked one tiny bowl of what she had, and he was high as a kite.
She smoked one as she moved him to that oddly shaped chaise lounge and had him lie down on it on his back. Then she straddled it and impaled herself on his jutting prick. The crest of the "wave" in the chair's design lifted his hips high and her knees were only half bent when she was seated.
She was high, too, and she was very energetic when she started moving her hips forward and back. She was so energetic that, at one point, the wooden feet skidded on the concrete with a rasping sound.
"This is a very sturdy sun bed," he commented. He was high enough that while he could feel and was enjoying her clasping pussy very much, he was nowhere near feeling the urge to cum.
"It's called a Nannette lounge," she panted. "Murdock got it for me for our first wedding anniversary."
"Interesting anniversary present," he said.
"He got it for this purpose. It was actually for him, so he could be comfy while he watched me fuck him. That's pretty typical for him. Everything is about Murdock."
"So you and him have had sex on this?"
She heard something in his voice and stopped moving.
"Don't you dare go soft on me," she said. "Think about all the times that bastard called you on the carpet, or disciplined you. You're fucking his wife, Bobby. You're fucking Principal Stevens' wife. You're getting even."
He reached for her breasts, which had a sheen of sweat on them.
"I don't want revenge," he said. "I don't want to fuck his wife. I only want to fuck you."
She leaned down and kissed him. It was a long kiss, and she didn't move her lower body while she did it. All she did was squeeze and release on his cock with her internal muscles.
"Why couldn't I have met you in college," she said when she lifted her lips from mine.
"I would have been ten, or something," he said.
"And I'd have been nineteen. I could have been your babysitter."
Being high didn't prevent him from doing the math.
"You're twenty-eight?" he said.
"I could have been your hot babysitter and taught you all about sex," she said.
"You are teaching me all about sex," he said. "And I'm pretty sure I'm better at it now than I would have been at ten."
Her face was still just inches from mine and her pussy was still massaging his cock.
"I want you to cum in me right now," she said. Her lips brushed his. "Give me some Bobby seeds."
"I can't cum right now," he said, still sailing on the effects of the weed.
"It feels good, but it's too slow," he said.
She sat back up and put her hands on his chest. Her feet were on the concrete on either side of the lounge. His shoulders were at the same elevation as his groin, and all she had to do was lean on her arms a little and that allowed her knees to flex. She rose and fell, gradually gaining speed.
"Is this fast enough?" she panted.
"It's better," he gasped. It was like her pussy was beating him off.
"Cum in me, Bobby. I want to get at least three loads out of you before you leave."
Her attitude was dispassionate, but she had still chosen him to affect her attack on her cheating husband, and that counted for something. He began imagining her with a baby bump, and knowing it was his baby causing that bump.
That got him going and he started lifting up against her as she came down. This wasn't making love. This was fucking, pure and simple.
"Can you cum?" she gasped.
"Yes," he grunted.
Her knees, or maybe her thighs, gave out just as the first jet of his man milk spurted into her. She sat down heavily and those internal muscles went back to work. She was panting hard as she leaned down to kiss him, while spurts number two and three inundated her pussy with his cum.
"That's what I want," she said against his lips.
He just kissed her.
They got up and went for a dip. She overcame the dispassionate side of things by clasping him to her in the water and kissing him a lot. She made it obvious he was more than simply a sperm donor.
He was still high enough that his tongue was loose.
"It's still hard for me to believe this is happening," he said.
"Doesn't it feel like it's happening?" she said.
"Yes, but you're a ... woman, a grown woman, and I still feel like I'm a kid."
"You're more of a man than you think," she said. "I know what you mean, though. I'm developing feelings for a man nine years younger than me. That's hard for me to process, too."
"You're developing feelings?"
"Don't get a big head," she said, pressing her loins against him. "One of the reasons I'm developing those feelings is your humility. You're not all full of yourself like many men your age."
"I'm too busy with you being full of me to be full of myself," he said. That was the dope talking. When people get stoned, they usually think they're funny. They usually aren't.
"I'm just saying I know how you feel," she said. "I'm not sorry we're doing this, though. You're giving me much more than just your sperm, whether you know it or not."
"I'd love to be able to understand that," he said.
"Maybe we'll have time to get there," she said.
"What does that mean?" he asked.
She reached to fondle his penis, which was limp in the cool water.
"I have a feeling that after I divorce him, we'll still be getting together." She looked uncertain for the first time since he'd become intimate with her. "At least every once in a while," she added.
Every once in a while was fine with him. It was as if a fortune teller had told him, "You're going to win at the lottery every once in a while. It might not be the big one, but it will definitely be worth playing."
They got out of the pool and she moved the beach towel to the grass. She sucked him until he was hard again, and then they made love missionary style.
This time they were making love. It wasn't hurried and she didn't use any nasty language to get him going. Instead, she taught him how to go in deep and then stay there, moving his groin similarly to how she had moved hers while sitting on him. He went sideways at first, but that morphed into little circles that she said she loved.
"Keep doing that and I'm going to cum," she sighed.
So he kept doing that, and she did cum. It was a very quiet cum, where she made little keening sounds. Her pussy fluttered around his cock, though. That made him want to push. He wanted to get deeper in her. He couldn't, but his subconscious mind made him try anyway. He pulled out a couple of inches and then slammed back in. He did that about ten times and, as if a faucet had been turned on, he felt his semen flowing almost gently through his penis.
"Ohhhh yeah," he groaned, as the sweet release claimed him.
Her hands on his back, and her heels on his butt, told him she was glad to be there while this happened.
He'd gotten there around ten-thirty, and by the time he got off of her soft body with a dripping prick, only an hour and a half had passed. He was reminded of the saying about how time flies when you're having fun.
They recharged by going in the house, where she fixed him a sandwich and gave him a Coke. She produced a bag of chips, too. She served them both by just using her hand in the bag.
"How do you stay so good looking if you eat like this?" he asked, around a mouthful of ham, lettuce, tomato, bread, and mayo.
"I run five miles every night," she replied. "I also jump rope. I try to burn lots of calories. Making love is good for that, too, so you're helping me stay trim and fit."
"I'll be your personal trainer for as long as you need me," he quipped.
"Be careful about making promises like that," she said. "What if I need a personal trainer for ten years?"
"Well, you're good for the first two, but then you'd have to move to Norman with me when I start college there. That would be two more years. The last six could be anywhere. I still have no idea what to major in, or what I'll do when I get out of college."
"You expect me to just pick up and follow you around?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Only if you insist on keeping me as your personal trainer," he said.
She took a bite and chewed. She finished the whole sandwich without speaking further.
They were still naked. At first that felt weird, and he worried about somebody coming in. Just because Murdock hadn't come home for lunch before didn't mean he wouldn't think of it. If he had no high school girl to blackmail, maybe he'd feel the need to fuck his trophy wife.
But nobody bothered them, and after a while it felt kind of free and natural to be nude.
She cleaned up the island where they'd eaten and then turned to face him.
"That's two down, and one to go. I want the next one to be on his bed."
He knew that part of the reason she wanted to cuckold her husband on their marriage bed was because of the revenge aspect. He chose to concentrate on how much softer the bed was than a towel on the lawn. When they got there, though, she surprised him again.
She crawled on the bed slowly, which gave him a gorgeous look at her fat pussy lips. They were tightly closed, but bulged invitingly. They were shiny with either her own or his fluids. She stopped, looked over her shoulder and wagged her butt at him.
"Ever done it doggy style?" she teased.
She knew he hadn't. It wasn't really a question. It was an invitation.
He had been soft when they left the kitchen. Following her, watching her butt cheeks rising and falling had gotten him half hard. Seeing those tightly closed, bulging lips had gotten him almost there. Her invitation to mount her like a bitch finished the job.
He had never thought about it before this, but women aren't all built the same. They all have a vagina, and pudenda and all that, but there are slight differences. Some women's vulvae face forward, as if the vagina is tilted with the mouth facing front. On other women, their pussy lips are directly between their legs, and you can't see them at all unless she spreads her legs. Tawny's were of the second variety, though her labia were so large and puffy, they were visible from the front.
This doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things, but can affect the act, depending on the position employed while mating. If a woman's vulva faces front, and she wants to do it doggy style, she'll have to spread her legs so her lover's penis can get to her. She also won't get quite as much penetration, because his loins will bump into her butt. If a woman's pussy faces "down" while standing, though, then when she's on all fours it is easily accessible and she can keep her knees together and still be capable of being mounted. She'll also get a little more penetration.
All that does matter, because women can have two kinds of orgasms. Vaginal orgasms are generally a little calmer. Clitoral orgasms are usually hotter and more intense. If a girl has to spread her knees wide during doggy sex, it reduces the feeling in the vagina, making clitoral stimulation more important. Since the man isn't touching her clit when he enters her from behind, she is required to diddle it herself. Conversely, if she can keep her knees close together, then a vaginal orgasm is easier to get, and she can just pose there on all fours and enjoy it. That's what Tawny had in mind.
These are all wide, sweeping generalizations, and obviously aren't true a hundred percent of the time, but Tawny and her girlfriends had talked about these things, and she shared their conclusions with him as he slid his prick between her fat pussy lips, and deeply into her from behind. Being able to grasp her hips and stand behind her made it easy to slide in and out of her at whatever pace he felt like. He could also lean down on her back and reach around to cup and maul her hanging breasts, and that was fun, too.
This was the longest lovemaking session they had ever done. Things usually got exciting within ten minutes, and once she came, it was easy for him to cum, too. This time, though, it just felt soothing to slide effortlessly in and out of her hot tunnel. She said it felt good to her, too. It was just an act of intimacy, a sharing of something personal that was special between two people.
Eventually, though, he wanted to shoot off in her. This idea of making a baby had seeped into his subconscious, and no longer seemed fanciful or crazy.
She knew, when he sped up, what he was trying to do. She lowered her head, bending her elbows, which had the result of sticking her ass out even more.
"You gonna shoot in me?" she said in a little girl voice. "You gonna get me all pregnant with your sperms?"
"Twins!" he gasped. "I'm gonna get you pregnant with twins!"
"Ooooo goody," she said. "One for each breast."
He would later tell her the little girl act didn't do so much for him, but he was already close, so he concentrated on his prick and balls. In this position, for whatever reason, he slammed in for the first shot, pulled back and slammed in for the second, and then pulled out and slammed back in for the third. There was a weak fourth and a dribbling fifth pulse, but he just stayed deep for those. Whenever they had sex in this position, that's always what he did. If they were in missionary position, he always went in as deep as he could and stayed there for every part of his ejaculation. He didn't know why there was this difference.
He lay on her back for maybe thirty seconds and just breathed, and then stood up and pulled out. His penis was almost dry. Those tight pussy lips had sluiced it clean as a whistle.
Tawny just rolled to her side and pulled up into a modified fetal position.
"Mmmmm, I feel so wonderful," she said.
"Did you cum?" he asked.
"Don't worry about it. There's more to making love than just orgasms. I had a wonderful time, and that's the point."
"Me, too," he said. "I had a really wonderful time."
"I could tell. You were very energetic."
He felt stupid standing beside the bed, naked, while she was lying on it. He went to the foot and crawled up to lie beside her. She unfolded and wiggled over to press up against him.
"You're addicting," she said, softly.
"I'm not trying to be," he said.
"That's part of why you are. Things are not turning out like I thought they would."
"I'm still processing all this. I'll tell you how I feel later."
"I get that," he said. "I still can't believe I'm doing this."
"As long as you keep doing this, I don't care if you can believe it or not," she said. "Did you say you have class at three?"
"Yeah, English," he said.
"Well, then," she said, looking at the clock on the wall. "We might be able to squeeze in a fourth, if you're willing."
He was willing, but his poor penis didn't cooperate. Even with her expert oral manipulations, it only got spongy, nowhere near hard enough to push into her.
"Oh well," she said, finally giving up. "Now I'll have to use my rabbit."
"I'll show you next time. Go. Go eat oysters or something. Look it up on the internet and see what foods give a man stamina. Can you come over tomorrow?"
He could, and he said he would.
It turned out there was another gate in the fence at the back, which led into a small alley.
While his penis was out of steam, the rest of him felt great.
He jogged back to his car. It was only three blocks.
When he got there he was winded. He decided he didn't ever want to go on a run with Tawny Stevens.
On Thursday he had to work from ten in the morning to six in the evening. He only had a part time job because his parents wanted him to have plenty of time to study. At the same time, his father felt it was important for him to make at least a token effort to help pay his way. He got to keep half of his wages. The rest went into his mother's food shopping kitty and toward his rent. He worked at a local hardware store. They got a truck in on Wednesdays, and he helped open the boxes and stock shelves on Thursday. He also worked on Saturdays, from the time the store opened to roughly noon.
In two days he had lost his virginity, had his dick sucked, sucked his dream woman's clitoris, and fucked her in several positions. There was no birth control of any kind involved, and he had cum in her - at her demand! - more than five times in those two days. You'd think that after all that, it would be easy to go a day without it. Not so much, at least not for him. All he could think about was Tawny, laying out or swimming naked, or lying in bed using this mysterious "rabbit" she had mentioned, which he hadn't seen yet, but he was pretty sure it went up inside her. That was wrong. What should be up in her was him!
As happens frequently, when a young man gets involved with a woman on an intimate basis, he was in a bad way. It was evidence of how juvenile he still was, even at nineteen. Sex with Tawny Stevens, for him, was like crack cocaine. One hit and he was addicted. All he could think about was when he'd get to slide his aching boner back in her velvety pussy and squirt in there. It affected his work and his boss, Glenn Travers, noticed.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" demanded Glenn, as Bobby was stocking bolts. "You're hanging metric threads with SAE threads."
"Oh," he said. They had looked the same size so he hung them on the same peg. He normally checked each package. "I'm sorry. I have a lot on my mind."
"Well your personal problems are for you to deal with off the clock. Get it right. I don't want frustrated customers because they can't find what they're looking for."
"Yes, sir," he said. "I'll make sure they're all right."
His boss was right. He had put things in the wrong place. In Bobby's defense, Glenn had decided to put a column of SAE bolts on the board and then, right next to that column, a corresponding column of metric bolts. So the columns alternated, from small to large, with SAE, then metric, then SAE and metric and so on. He thought that made it easier for customers to find what they wanted without having to go to two different places in the store, if they were comparing a bolt they brought in with the new ones.
Bobby didn't know if it was easier for the customer or not. It took a lot of concentration for the stocker, though. And it didn't help that customers took something off of one column and then replaced it on a different one, mixing things up.
Still, Glenn was the boss and he was right. An employee should pay attention to detail while he was being paid.
He had two classes on Friday, one at nine in the morning and the other at one P.M. He called "Jenny" at ten, when he got out of Political Science.
"Hey there," came her sultry voice. "I missed you, yesterday."
"I missed you, too," he said. "It affected my work. I got yelled at because I was thinking about you."
"Don't do that," she said. "I don't want you getting in trouble because of me."
"Well don't be so sexy, then," he said. "Think about what has happened to me in the last seventy-two hours. It's a lot to take in!"
"Poor baby," she said. "Can you come see me? I'll let you lay your poor, confused head in my lap and stroke your hair while you take it all in."
"You're so helpful," he said.
"Come in the back gate," she said.
"What if somebody sees me coming down the alley and gets interested in who I am and where I'm going?" he asked.
"You have a point," she said. "There are several old ladies on our block and they like to watch the goings and comings of people."
"I could come to the front door if I had an excuse," he said.
"What kind of excuse?"
"I could use some help with my English class. The details are making me crazy."
"What kind of details?"
"I have to know where to use commas and where not to. Semi-colons and colons confuse me. Each one, by itself, is no big deal, but when I have to remember them all, I can't."
"When do you have to remember them all? You mean on a test?"
"Well, then, too, but our teacher loves to give us pages of text and we have to grade them, like she grades us. We have to red pen all the mistakes, and there are usually dozens. The percentage of errors we catch is the percentage of our grade for that project. I'm getting a C right now."