Servicing mom (lowblow emma and foxy lady)

Angela had barely had time for a quick wash and change before the bell rang. She rushed to open the door and found herself facing a tall, well-build black kid with short hair, dazzling teeth and fleshy lips. His muscles were straining his t-shirt to bursting point and there was a bulge in his jeans that was doing the same.

‘Hey, Angie, how’ya doin?’

He brushed past her, kicked the door shut, and turned towards her.

‘Nice to meet you,’ Angela managed before he clamped his hands on her buttocks, pulled her towards him and planted his lips on her mouth, his tongue probing between her teeth.

‘Likewise,’ he replied when he eventually released her. ‘Any chance of a beer.’

Angela’s was still reeling from what seemed more like a frontal assault that a greeting for a woman nearly three times his age. Too stunned to argue, she headed obediently to the fridge and returned with a cold bottle to find Terrell sprawled in the corner of the sofa, his thighs spread. He took the bottle and drained half in a single gulp.

‘So,’ he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, ‘what’s going to be my pleasure for you today? Straight, doggie, oral, sixty-nine, or anal if you want, I don’t mind a bit of that.’

‘Hang on,’ gasped Angela as he reeled off his menu, ‘don’t you want to get acquainted first?’

‘Ah, sorry,’ he replied, taking another long swig. ‘I didn’t realise you were one of those. The Great White Whale told me-‘

‘Just a minute, just a minute,’ Angela managed to interrupt his flow. ‘What do you mean by me being one of those and who or what is the Great White Whale?’

Terrell drained the bottle and put it down.

‘The Great White Whale,’ he explained slowly, ‘is the Principal, Marcie. I thought you’d know that. Didn’t Tom tell you? We call her that because that’s what she’s like. She’s big and Mike says that when he fucks her she lies there like a beached whale. Although,’ he grinned, ‘she’s been a bit more active lately.’

That did not surprise Angela, who was beginning to suspect that Marcie was keeping Mike to herself. She filed away for later the fact that Mike was obviously reporting on what happened to the other boys. And probably not just about their Principal. Might this explain her son’s chance of attitude towards her?

‘And what about me being one of those,’ Angela prompted. Terrell leaned forward.

‘Look, no offence, Angie, but this whole project is just about fucking, right? The women need it and we want to get our rocks off. So we have a mutual need, right? But some of the women they like to pretend they’re actually having a relationship with us. They like to make it all romantic, sit and talk, build up to it slow, like. Now I don’t mind a bit of that, but the Great – Marcie if you prefer – she let me know you were gasping for it, so I thought you’d want to get right on down to it.’

He collapsed back onto the sofa, exhausted after so long a speech.

‘I am indeed, as you so delicately put it, gasping for it,’ Angela admitted, ‘but we could at least take a few minutes to get to know each other first. Just so long as you’re out of here before John gets home.’

‘Your husband, right?’ Terrell nodded. ‘He’s got the scent has he?’

Angela’s expression showed she had no idea what he meant. He leaned forward in preparation for another speech.

‘Got the scent, sniffed you out, noticed Mike’s smell around the place. It happens a lot. The guy picks up on it, maybe without knowing and instinctively hangs around to protect his territory. It happens a lot when a dud male gets the scent of a powerful and potent rival. Like me,’ he added with apparent modesty.

‘Yes,’ Angela was thoughtful, ‘yes, that would explain his behaviour, his change of behaviour.’ She sank onto the sofa. ‘Look, you’re right, let’s make the most of the time we’ve got. You were very kind to give me a choice, but why don’t you pick how we’re going to start off? Anything,’ she added hastily, ‘except anal, we’ll leave that for later, much later.’

‘Well,’ Terrell grinned, ‘that’s really kind of you.’ He unzipped his jeans and pushed them down to his ankles. ‘You look like you’ve not had much nourishment lately, so why not have a mouthful of some prime steak.’

Angela looked down at the thick circumcised cock that was lying in Terrell’s lap. Despite its size, it was still obviously flaccid. She knelt at his feet and bend towards him, but Terrell grabbed her hair and pulled her up.

‘Get that dress off first,’ he ordered her gruffly, ‘let the doggy see the rabbit.’

Angela reached behind her, unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor as she unfastened her bra.

‘Is that it, is that all, can’t you even be bothered to put on a show for me? After all I’m going to do for you, you could at least show some consideration and help get the flag flying up the pole.’

Angela would have been happy to put on a strip tease for Mike as she had often done for her husband, but she didn’t feel inclined to do so for this arrogant, assertive kid.

‘You can’t have it both ways,’ she retaliated. ‘Either you want to get on with it or you don’t. You’ve told me what you want. Or,’ she added with a flash of inspiration, ‘can’t you get the flag up the pole without some help. Mike didn’t need a strip show to get his flag flying.’ She looked disparagingly at the lump of flesh nestling in Terrell’s lap.

Terrel bent over and launched himself at her feet, grabbing her by the ankles and toppling her onto her back with a spine-jarring thud. One swift tug relieved her of her panties. Leaving Terrell to exclaim in horror.

‘What the fuck is that, a dead fox? Mike didn’t mention that your pussy’s hidden in a forest. You’d better get that shaved off before next time. I can’t abide getting pubes in my teeth.’

Angela had had enough of being ordered about and insulted. She struggled to her feet and stood over him.

‘Right, that’s enough, Terrell. You’re supposed to be helping me out here, but so far all you’ve done is boss me about and complain. I’d be better off with a vibrator. Get you kit back on and get the fuck out.’

Angela didn’t see Terrell’s slap coming until it knocked her off her feet and sent her flying back onto the sofa.

‘That’s no way to talk to me,’ he shouted. ‘You need to learn some manners and some respect. And I know just the way to teach you.’

He advanced towards Angela, his cock now swaying before him. Not as long as Mike’s but thick and solid.

‘You’ll do no such thing.’ Angela tried to summon some authority. ‘You may only be able to get off by hitting people, but I don’t respond to that sort of treatment.’

Terrell laughed.

‘The fuck you don’t. I can recognise you bitches a mile off. Rough treatment is just what you need. And that’s what you’re going to get.’

Again he moved swiftly, grabbing Angela by her hips and tossing her face down over the back of the sofa. She felt his cock pushing between her legs and screamed as he rammed it up her cunt in one swift thrust.

Terrell laughed.

‘Enjoyed that, didn’t you, little white bitch. You all like a good stretch.’

He crushed her against the sofa as he pounded into her, fast and furious, no variation, every stroke as long and powerful as the last, with no sign of even struggling for breath. Angela struggled to try to dislodge him but without success. Indeed he seemed to thrive on her attempts, laughing each time she failed.

And slowly, against her will, she realised that she was becoming aroused by this systematic trashing of her vagina. She put up a show of trying to escape, but Terrell seemed to sense that it was just a performance.

‘See, I knew you’d like it,’ he laughed with no sign of lack of breath and continued to pound away.

At last, Angela could suppress her feelings no longer.

‘Yes,’ she screamed, ‘yes, please Terrell please, rape me, rape the bitch.’

With Terrell’s hands on her hips, he slowed the pace, teasing her, making her beg for him to finish her, which he finally did with a series of brutal thrusts that lifted her off the sofa.

Her orgasm bust like a tidal wave that shook her body and expelled a scream that must have been heard across the street.

‘Told you,’ Terrell laughed as he pulled out of Angela and walked round the sofa. They all do, however much they pretend not to. Now you’ve got what you want but I ain’t finished, so get you lips round that.’ He waved his cock in her face. Obediently, she took him into her mouth and savoured the taste of her own juices as she deep throated him until he was about blow.

At the last minute, Terrell pulled away and let his sperm spray over Angela’s face and hair.

‘Right,’ he said matter-of-factly as he retrieved his clothes and dressed. ‘Not bad for a first fuck, not bad at all. I’ll soon get you broken in. Any chance of another beer before I go.’

Angela was too dazed to argue and came back with two bottles, one for Terrell and one for her.

With Terrell gone, Angela opened all the windows to air the room and rushed upstairs for a quick shower. She had only just had time to dry herself, dress and collect her discarded clothes when Tom returned home.

‘Mom, we need to talk.’ There was an urgency bordering on panic in his voice. ‘Are you OK.’

Angela had only had time to assure him that she was indeed OK when John arrived home. Throughout the evening Tom tried desperately to get his mother alone, but every time his father appeared. It was as though he didn’t want to let his wife out of his sight. Eventually, with John camped in front of the TV yawning, Angela suggested he might as well go to bed.

‘You’re obviously tired, John, why not go upstairs? I’ve got a few things to tidy down here, then I’ll be right up.’

It was not so long ago that John would have read that as an invitation for an early night and some frantic sex. Now, though, he just turned off the set and sauntered upstairs. Tom immediately rushed to sit by his mother.

‘Mom, are you really OK? I can’t believe you let Terrell anywhere near you. The guy’s a maniac. He trashed Paul’s mother last week and she was only just persuaded from reporting him to the police. Can you imagine what trouble that would have caused?’

Angela patted her son’s thigh. ‘Tom, it’s sweet of you to be so concerned. But I am capable of looking after myself you know. And besides Marcie recommended him.’

Tom just stared in disbelief.

‘But since we’ve got a private moment, I want to ask you something. I understood this was all private, but Terrell seemed to know an awful lot of personal stuff about me and about Marcie. Has Mike been blabbing about what goes on?’

‘No,’ Tom tried to explain. ‘Until now, it’s all been very discreet. We have a debrief, but only about what lessons we’ve learned, not about what we did. But Mike’s debrief after you was so intense, well, all the boys got rather worked up, all of us to be honest. Marcie got us in after class and made him tell the whole story, which just made it worse for us. She made Mike stay behind afterwards and has him in her office every chance she gets. The poor guy looks permanently drained. I’m sorry, mom. I’m sure Mike never intended so much, er, intimate, er, detail to become common knowledge.’

Angela couldn’t be angry with Tom. It wasn’t his fault and he had confirmed only what she had already worked out for herself. She let her hand rest on his thigh in a show of support and understanding.

‘So,’ she remarked as casually as she could, ‘it looks as if Mike is going to be too occupied to have much time for me in the future.’

Tom nodded. ‘Mom, what he said, well it’s had a big effect. Not just on Marcie, whose become completely insatiable. All the boys, all of us,’ he admitted rather sheepishly, ‘all of us have been affected and have been inspired to do better for the moms we, er, service.’

He looked down at his mother’s hand that was still resting on his thigh and made as if to speak.

‘Go on, Tom,’ his mother encouraged, ‘what is it? If there’s something bothering you, you can always tell me.’

When Tom still didn’t answer, she did what she always did. She sat quietly waiting for him to get his words in order. When he finally looked up, his face was flushed and he seemed to be having trouble breathing.

‘It’s just that, since I heard about what you and Mike did, well I’ve found myself becoming aroused all the time. Mary says-‘ He stopped dead and gulped. ‘Sorry, mom, please forget I said that, we’re not allowed to tell anyone outside the project which moms are involved.’

Angela nodded. She only knew one Mary, a rather quiet woman who lived a few streets away.

‘Anyway,’ Angela prompted, ‘what is it that this lady says?’

‘Ma-, this lady, she says that she only needs to touch me before I get hard. That’s really all it takes. Just a touch.’

He looked down and she followed his gaze towards her hand resting on his thigh and, close by, the bulge in his shorts.

His mother always managed to get the truth out of him. He was never sure how she did it exactly, because she didn’t seem to do anything, but whatever it was she did, it was effective. Never once in his entire life could he remember an occasion when she had failed to winkle the truth out of him. Sometimes, she got it out right away. Other times, she took ages. Once it took her nearly a week, but she found it out in the end.

And she had this uncanny knack of knowing when he was holding back. And right now he was sure she did and he prayed that she wouldn’t press her. She knew that he had a hard on. She was staring straight at it and how could she miss it anyway? And he had admitted by way of referring to what Mary had said that it was her touch that had given it to him. If she didn’t press him, he could carry this off as a physical reaction. Just apologise and excuse himself and get out of here, fast.

But what if she pressed him? What if she wanted to know more? He’d admitted that it was hearing about her session with Mike that had set him off like this. What was it about hearing how his mother had behaved when she was fucking with his friend that had got him into this state? Shouldn’t he be immune to these feelings when it was his mother involved? What if she pressed him on whether there was more to it than just a touch?

And then she said it. Or rather she didn’t. She just raised her eyes and looked at him, steadily. As if she could read his mind. And he felt an admission welling up inside his mind, just like other things were welling up lower down. And eventually, inexorably, inevitably he began to crack. Better sooner than later, he knew. Get it over with, that was always the best policy.

And then he noticed something else. She hadn’t removed her hand. She’d heard what he said, but she hadn’t taken it away, which is surely how most mothers would have reacted. But her hand was still there, resting on his thigh. He could feel her warmth through his shorts and the weight pressing down as if she were holding him in place to prevent him running away, which is what he really wanted to do. But she didn’t want him to.

If only she wouldn’t ask him any more questions. If only if only she’d move that hand a little bit higher. It wasn’t far to his balls and only a fraction of an inch further to his cock. But that was just a dream. No mother would ever do that. Certainly not with her husband waiting upstairs for her.

In the end, he had to speak. He just couldn’t hold the tension any longer. His balls were aching fit to burst.

‘Mom, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t feel like this, I know that, it’s wrong, but I can’t help it. When Mike was telling us what he did to you and how you reacted, it was so vivid in my mind, it was like I was there is the room with you.’ He gulped and rushed on. ‘Like I was actually doing it to you in Mike’s place.’

Still her hand rested on his leg. Her gaze held his eyes. His cock was twitching. He knew it would only take a touch of her hand to set it off.

‘The truth is, I’m all messed up about this, totally fucked up. When I’m with Ma-, well when I’m with that lady, I’m thinking about what Mike said, about you. That’s why I get so hard so quickly. Not that I’ve ever told her. But it makes it difficulty. I’ve admitted in debrief that I’ve learnt that thinking about someone else during sex is a real turn on but a terrible torment too. It’s like cheating. I’ve got to work this out of my system, but I don’t know how, I really don’t know how.’

Finally, she spoke.

‘Tom, you’re right, this is wrong, but we must not blame ourselves for how we feel. It’s how we act that is important. We cannot control our thoughts and physical feelings, but we can control, have to control, how we respond to them. It will be better now we’ve talked about this. You don’t have to cope on your own any more. We’ll work this out together.’

She lifted her hand and made to rise, but as she began to move away her fingers drifted up and along his shaft. He grabbed her hand and pressed himself against it, rubbing frantically.

And then he came, his sperm pulsing out, the stain spreading across his short. Just as he heard his father come into the room behind him.

‘Angela, I thought you were coming to bed. How much longer are you going to be?’

Angela recovered quickly. She needed to spare her son’s blushes and avoid any awkward questions.

‘I’ll come up with you,’ she told her husband. ‘Tom can put off the lights and shut up for me, can’t you, dear?’

Tom nodded and Angela kissed him lightly on the cheek. Her hand rested briefly on his shoulder before she followed her husband upstairs.

She hurried to the ensuite where she brushed her teeth, washed her face and put on her usual night attire, one of John’s old shirts. When she returned to the bedroom, she found to her surprise that her husband was not lying down with his back to her as he had done these past weeks, but was sitting up waiting for her. She smiled and climbed into bed beside him, wondering what was in store. Had he seen what had just happened with Tom? Or was he suspicious, like Terrell had said? Or maybe this boded some improvement in his condition.

Does Tom have a problem’ he asked with a note of concern.

‘No, not at all,’ Angela applied reassuringly, ‘we were just chatting about a school project and I lost track of time.’

John’s right hand rested on her thigh and stroked it tentatively. This was unlike the John she knew, whose touch had always been so confident and so assured.

‘I know this has been difficult for you,’ he began. ‘I know how important it is for you to be satisfied. Do you remember?’

They both burst into grins. He didn’t need to say what he was remembering. They often laughed about how desperate she had got when he was sent to Japan for a month and she had to stay behind because Tom was in school. She had almost mounted him in the arrivals hall and they had fucked in the back of the car before they left the airport.

He turned towards her now and his left hand rested on her breast.

‘Not as difficult as it has been for you,’ Angela replied. Why were they both using the past tense? Had John recovered? Was that what this was leading to?

He was being to tentative that she didn’t dare respond in any way. Let him work towards whatever was going to happen, at his own pace and in his own way.

His left hand moved down under her nightshirt and approach the top of her thigh.

‘I’ve been selfish,’ he whispered, ‘let me ease things for you.’ His fingers worked higher.

At last, Angela turned towards him and began to stroke his chest. He moaned softly. Angela heard Tom walking along the landing to his room.

She pulled herself closer to her husband and felt something poking into her leg. Something hard. She held her breath. His cock was stiff, but it wasn’t where it should be. Normally, it would poke her in the belly, not her thigh. She moved her hand down his stomach, allowing him the chance to stop her if he wanted, but he didn’t. After inching slowly south, her hand came across his cock. No longer flaccid as it had been, but slightly hard. It had stiffened but not lengthened.

John looked at her and she saw the pain in his eyes, and if she wasn’t mistaken an apology too.

‘Let me help you,’ she offered.

But he shook his head and moved his fingers towards her crotch. She reached down and stopped him.

‘No, John. I want you and I can wait for you, for as long as it takes.’

As she pulled him towards her, she caught a movement. Just a fraction of a second, out of the corner of her eye. Their bedroom door had moved slightly, as if someone had been leaning against it, listening and peeping through the crack. And there was only one person that could have been.

Tom’s feelings had been in turmoil. It was Mike’s report that set them off. The detail was more graphic than was usual, more graphic than a boy wants to hear about his mother. But it had an enormous impact on Tom. For a start, he began to think of his mother as a sexual animal. He’s never thought of her like that before. He knew she had sex, of course. She and his father made no secret of it; he had often heard them at it and even caught sight of them once when he was sneaking in late. But this was different. Imagining his mother fucking like an animal with Mike was something new for him. As was something else. Jealousy. He hadn’t recognised it at first, but he was jealous of his friend. It wasn’t just that he didn’t want Mike to do that to his mother; it was that he wanted to do that instead.

This had troubled him and he had tried to work out why he felt like that. It wasn’t just Mike’s account. That had been powerful, affecting everyone including the Principal. It was he eventually decided on account of his father and his impotence. Normally a son doesn’t get feelings like this for his mother, but that is because most mothers are being serviced sexually by a partner. Somehow his father’s impotence had set him free from the normal constraints. It had changed the dynamics of the household, leaving him as the only potent male who had to assume responsibility for servicing his mother.

And as this had sunk in he had begun experiencing problems with Mary. He was so aroused at the thoughts of his mother that the merest touch of a woman, especially a mature one, set him off and he couldn’t contain himself. It was easier with her daughter, Sally. She wasn’t mature and so not associated in his mind with his mother.

And then to cap it all his mother had found out. And not only found out. Her touch had made it worse for him, deliberately. He was convinced of that, she knew what she was doing. And when she stroked his cock, well that confirmed it. there was no doubt. She knew how he felt and she was responding. Giving him the go-ahead almost.

He had nearly died when his father had crept up on them. He dared not move and was fortunate that his mother had covered for him. He had stayed where he was until he was sure they were in their bedroom. Then he had gone to the laundry room to discard his sodden shorts in the laundry basket. Burying them in the middle of the dirty washing, he had come across his mother’s satin blue underwear, just like Mike had described. He had examined the panties and seen the stains and smelt the festering stench of the mixture of her juices and Mike’s sperm. This had set him off again and he was almost hard by the time he crept past their room to his own.

Lying on the bed, he wondered what they were doing. He could hear talking, but not distinguish the words. Creeping back, he peeped through the crack. They were lying face to face under the covers. He couldn’t see what was going on. Had his father recovered? Or was she whispering about what had happened downstairs? In the end, fearful of being caught, he had gone back to his room and climbed into bed.

But he could not sleep. His thoughts intruded and kept him awake, tossing and sweating, trying to avoid the insistent throb from his cock. It was the early hours of the morning when he drifted into sleep. He awoke to find his mother sitting on the bed beside him. She pulled his dad’s old shirt over her head and he saw her naked breasts in the moon light. She peeling back the sheet to expose Tom’s cock. Bending over him, she took him in her mouth and began to suck, slowly, her saliva lubricating his cock, her tongue lapping round the shaft as her head bobbed up and down. Tom struggled to control himself, but almost exploded when she pulled away and climbed astride him. Lifting his cock, she sank onto him and began to swivel her hips and then to rise and fall, up and down, side to side, back and forth, faster and faster. And as she moved she spoke to him. ‘See, Tom, you can control yourself. You just have to concentrate. Focus on satisfying me before you blow. Give me what you father can’t, your hard cock. Let me cum, then flood me with your sperm.’

Tom held off as long as he could until his mother’s pace rendered him incapable of withholding any longer. ‘Please, mom, please, I’ve got to cum, I need to cum, now.’

She smiled down at him, tightened her grip and breathed deeply, until with a shudder she cried out. ‘Shoot, baby, shoot now. Cum with me.’

Tom thrust upwards with his hips and shot his load. For a while she sat astride him, until he began to slither out. Then she collapsed on him and fell asleep in his arms.

Tom woke with a start at the first rays of dawn coming through the window. He was alone, but his bedding was soaking, soaking from his sweat and soaking from his cum. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Had that really happened? No, it couldn't have. If it had, his sperm would be inside his mother not staining the sheet. Unless, unless he had cum again in his sleep after she had left him.

Both Tom and John were reluctant to leave after breakfast, and Angela had things to do, like the washing. She was about to tip the contents of the laundry basket into the machine when she noticed. Her blue panties and bra, the satin ones, the set she’d worn when Mike came round, they were on the top. She wasn’t the tidiest of people, but she remembered burying them at the bottom. Someone had rummaged through the basket, and it would only be one of two. But which? Neither of them had been in the laundry room that morning, she was sure of that. But John could have gone in there before coming to ask Angela why she hadn’t come to bed. And Tom had been on his own last night after she had followed John to bed; he had had time before following them upstairs.

She was still wondering about this when Marcie’s text came in suggesting a mid-morning meeting in the coffee shop. She arrived to find Marcie already waiting in a quiet corner.

‘Angela, dear, tell me right away, how are you? Are you OK?’

‘Well,’ Angela began touching her cheek delicately, ‘I’m fine if you overlook the slap across my face and my sore stomach from having been raped face down over the back of my own sofa.’

‘Thank goodness,’ Marcie exclaimed with evident relief. ‘I’ve been so worried. That Terrell will go too far one day?’

Angela didn’t ask what ‘too far’ might mean compared to assault and rape. Instead she tried to turn the tables on Marcie.

‘How did he treat you?’ she asked.

‘Oh, dear, I wouldn’t let him near me. Not that I don’t mind a bit of rough sometimes. But it’s a question of authority and respect. Being fucked by Mike gives me some street cred with the boys, so that’s alright. But I couldn’t retain my respect if they knew what Terrell was doing to me, and you can be sure they’d know.’

Angela took the chance that she had hoped for.

‘Yes, Marcie, I wanted to ask you about that. It seems my son, and no doubt all the others, know a lot more about the details, the very intimate and personal details, of what happened between me and Mike than I expected.’

Did she see a slight blush on Marcie’s face.

‘That’s true and I’m sorry. I normally don’t allow it, but I can only say that it has had an effect, a beneficial effect, on all the boys, and to be honest, Angela, on me too.’

‘It’s certainly had an effect on my son,’ Angela remarked curtly. ‘I’m not sure it was healthy for him to hear so much.’

Another, brighter blush crossed Marcie’s face.

‘I’m sorry, Angela, but I can’t start making exceptions in how we treat the boys. And,’ she moved swiftly on, ‘you notice I said that that Mike’s experience had an effect on me. I’m sorry that Mike wouldn’t have the time to provide his services for you again. He’s being kept rather busy with me at the moment. The poor boy is quite worn out. I’m worried that it may affect his grades.’

‘Well, I’m glad you’re keeping satisfied,’ Angela remarked tartly. ‘But, to be selfish for a moment, what about me? I don’t think I could cope with Terrell again. Don’t you have someone with better manners.’

Marcie coughed. She did indeed have someone, indeed more than one. All the boys were eager to try their luck with Angela.

‘I am sure that one of them will only be too happy to come for a visit at your convenience. I imagine you are a little sore at the moment so why not rest for a day or two and then I’ll put one of them in touch.’

Marcie rose to leave, but Angela stayed where she was.

‘Is there something you wanted to say,’ Marcie asked, sitting down again.

‘Yes, as a matter of fact there is. I know this is all confidential. But I seem to be something of an exception in view of my own son’s involvement. I know that he is providing his services, as you called them, to one of the moms. I don’t want any details, naturally, but I wondered how, er, what can I say, how he is performing, in general terms. Does Mary find him satisfactory?’

Marcie coughed again.

‘Ah, yes, I see you know who the lady in question is. Yes, I see how you may be in, well let’s say that you are in a special position. So I can perhaps reveal something of what has been going on. Perhaps we should get another coffee. This may take a while.’

With their coffees before them, Marcie began slowly to talk about Tom and Mary.

‘Mary,’ she explained, ‘is a single mother whose partner deserted her when her daughter was born. She’s been too busy raising her to bother with men, but as her daughter has become more independent she has found the time to rekindle her interest.’

‘And how,’ Angela interposed, ‘did she learn about the services you provide?’

‘It was through her daughter actually. She came to me, concerned that her mother was showing a rather too healthy interest in her boyfriend. So I suggested that I might be able to divert her. And that is where Tom came in. He’s a clean, nice, polite lad and seemed ideal to pair off with Mary as she began to consider dating again, breaking her back in gently as it were.’

Marcie paused, sipped at her coffee, made as if to continue, but then paused again.

Angela prompted her and she resumed reluctantly.

‘It was not my fault, Angela, I want you to know that. I had no idea. No idea whatsoever. How could i? I don’t keep track of what every one of the boys is doing.’

Angela was beginning to get a bad feeling about this.

‘Go on,’ she hissed, ‘tell me the worst.’

Marcie took a deep breath.

‘Tom was, still is in actual fact, the daughter’s boyfriend.’

‘Are you seriously telling me,’ Angela couldn’t believe what she had just heard, ‘that Tom, my son, is fucking both Mary and her daughter?’ This was the first that she had heard of him having a steady girlfriend for that matter.

Marcie nodded.

‘And do they each know this?’

‘Well’ Marcie licked her lips, ‘Mary knows obviously. I am not sure about her daughter. There has been discussion about telling her, but I don’t know what has happened. It’s not really my business, you see.’

Angela stared at her in disbelief.

‘You don’t think that arranging for Mary to share her daughter’s boyfriend is any of your business?’ Her voice was so loud that other customers turned to look. She lowered her voice. ‘Well, no, I suppose not after organising a whoring service for your boys and fucking one of them during every break.’

Marcie blushed deeply.

‘Anyway, look, you asked about his performance. Well obviously it has been tricky coping with both and juggling times he can spend with each of them without at least the daughter catching on. I don’t know how the daughter finds him, but Mary has told me that he is very gentle and considerate, always thoughtful of her needs and insistent on satisfying her first.’

‘Just like his father,’ Angela remarked with pride. Then she remembered the bedroom door moving the previous night. Maybe that was how he had learnt his sexual etiquette.

‘Until recently,’ continued Marcie. ‘It seems that in the past few days he has had some problems. I suppose a doctor might call it premature ejaculation. He has been getting very quickly aroused and unable to contain himself. To the point where Mary is being left unsatisfied. She thinks he may have developed some feelings, some strong attraction to someone else. Other than her daughter, that is. I don’t suppose you have any idea who that might be?’

‘No,’ Angela said with what she hoped was apparent honesty, ‘she couldn’t think of anyone.’

‘I don’t know how he’ll react,’ Marcie concluded, ‘but I’m seeing him this afternoon to say I am replacing him with Mary at her request and expel him from the project.’

With that, Marcie drowned her remaining coffee and headed for the door.

‘No, please, wait.’ Angela’s desperate pleading note halted Marcie in her tracks and turned every customer’s head in her direction. Marcie returned to their table and sat enthralled as Angela told her everything that Tom had told her the previous evening. She only left out that she had stroked his cock and made him cum.

‘So you see, Marcie,’ she concluded, ‘this may be my fault, or Mike’s fault or even your fault, but it isn’t Tom’s, so please don’t expel him from the project.’

Marcie thought for a while before replying.

‘I see your point, Angela. But I have to consider Mary’s position. And Tom is no use until he can control himself. I’ll tell him I’m going to rest him for a few days. That’s the best I can do.’

Angela accepted that that was the most she could achieve. It would be embarrassing for Tom, but not as humiliating as being stood down from the project.

John was more settled after his little chat with Angela in bed and announced that he would be home late for the next few nights. But Tom hung around her, leaving her no time for herself.

He’d come home the night after Marcie had put him on rest, not knowing that his mother already knew what had happened and that she had prevented him being removed from the project altogether. His sullen behaviour would have alerted her anyway that something was wrong.

With John still at work, she followed him to his room and knocked on the door.

‘Yea,’ was the only reply.

She went in and shut the door behind her. Her son was lying on his bed looking miserable. She sat down on the edge of the bed and folded her hands in her lap.

‘Go on,’ she prompted, ‘we both know there’s something wrong. Just tell me.’

Tom muttered incoherently and then pulled himself together.

‘At the end of the debrief this morning, the Principal told me to report to her office after class. All the guys were ribbing me about it. Saying she’d worn Mike out and how she was taking me on.’

‘How did you feel about that?’ Angela was curious after Terrell’s description of Marcie.

‘Well, she’s not really my type, but that’s not the point is it. We agreed that we were going to help the moms, and not pick and choose. That wouldn’t be fair. But Marcie is different, she’s not a mom, she’s the Principal. It was an honour, obviously, a privilege to be selected out. Because she is very demanding, so this was obviously a sign, to me and the other guys, that I was someone who could cope.’

He hung his head and went quiet.

‘But I’m guessing that it didn’t work out like that,’ Angela prompted after a while.

Tom shook his head.

‘No, it was awful, mom.’ He looked as if he was going to cry. ‘She told me that Mary, sorry, the lady, had mentioned to her that I was cumming very quickly, like I told you, and they had decided that the best thing, the best thing for her and for me, would be if I took a break for a while. It would give me a chance to re-establish my equilibrium, that’s what Marcie said.’

‘Well,’ Angela tried to console him, ‘that may be for the best, for you and for Mary.’

Tom stayed silent, silent in a way that indicated there was more to come. Angela had no difficulty understanding what that was.

‘It’s the other boys you’re worried about isn’t it. You’re worried about what they’ll say. She should have called you in privately, not made it public like she did. ’

‘I’m the first one to fail,’ Tom moaned. ‘The others will pretend to be sympathetic but behind my back …’

Angela rose to leave, letting her son have some privacy to come to terms with his feelings of shame.

‘Mom?’ She couldn’t miss the anguish in his voice. She stopped and waited. ‘Mom, can I ask you something?’

‘Of course, Tom. Ask me anything you want.’

Tom swallowed and took a run at his question.

‘Mom, you remember we sat and talked after dad went to bed and I told you how I had felt after Mike told us all about what you’d done together, and I … well, you remember and then dad came down and you went off to bed. Well, after that, did you do anything?’

Angela was puzzled, but then she thought she understood.

‘You mean me and John, did we do anything? Did we make love, is that what you mean? You don’t need to be shy about asking and the answer is no. We had a quiet chat about things and he’s much happier now. To be honest with you, and please don’t repeat this to anyone, or let you father know you know, but he was able to get partially stiff, but not enough to fuck me. So it looks like he’s improving, but not recovered. Not by a long way,’ she added sadly.

‘It’s not that,’ Tom cut in quickly as if he didn’t want to know this detail, ‘it’s later. Did you come into my room in the night?’

‘In the night? What do you mean?’

‘I don’t know what I mean, mom. I don’t know if something happened or if it was just a dream. But you came into my room, or I dreamt you did, and you sucked my cock and rode me and we fucked until we both came and you feel asleep in my arms. And I just don’t know whether it was real or not. Am I going mad or did I really fuck you?’

Angela stayed where she was, not daring to sit down again beside him.

‘Tom,’ she said at last, ‘no, you’re not going mad. Your hormones are messing with your feelings. Don’t agonise over it.’

Tom looked quizzically at his mother’s face, she seemed to have aged a decade as he was talking. Eventually his steady gaze forced her to continue.

‘You went to bed and fell asleep, and after what happened downstairs you had a dream. That’s it, isn’t it? That’s the best way to look at what you recall, don’t you agree?’

‘Yes, mom,’ he agreed, ‘that will be for the best.’

Angela fled from her son’s bedroom to her own, where she locked the door and sank onto the bed to reflect on what was happening to her family. Just a few days ago, everyone would have seen her as having the ideal family. And they would have been right. Her husband had a good job and they lived in a spacious house in a smart neighbourhood. He was doing well in a secure job, while she was free to pursue her own interests and to raise her son, who was a credit to her and John. No drugs, no trouble, hardworking, intelligent, obviously destined to get good grades and progress through college and university to a successful professional career. On the personal side, the physical side as her friends always euphemistically called it, she was a completely satisfied woman.

But now, in just a few weeks, how things had changed. Outwardly, of course, they looked the same. They had the same house and lifestyle, John has a secure job that produced a good income. But he was no longer a man, not a complete one. Impotent and all too painfully aware of how inadequate he was to fulfill his role as husband in satisfying his wife, leaving her frustrated and so desperate that she was at the mercy of which of Tom’s school friends were sent by Marcie to provide whatever service they could. And as for Tom, well he couldn’t tell the difference between dreams and reality. She prayed that he wouldn’t ever repeat what he had just said outside the home. If anyone got wind of that, the authorities would come down on them like a ton of bricks, investigating, probing. They’s soon find out about this school project. Marcie would be sacked, that was certain, if not prosecuted. The boys would all be taken into some sort of protective care. Word would get around of what the moms had been doing and by implication what their husbands hadn’t been doing, hadn’t been capable of doing. And if they actually believed that what Tom said was true and not just a dream, well then the shit could hit the fan big time. That would be the end of her marriage probably.

She sank back onto the pillows, trying to push these thoughts away. Thinking of other things, more pleasant things. Letting her mind wander over the visits she had received. Mike, the love sick boy who was so besotted with her that he couldn’t contain himself when he saw her in his lingerie. She had had to take control of him, help him satisfy her. That was harder than she had expected. She was desperate, having been deprived for so long. She’s rarely gone without sex for more than a few days for the whole of her marriage, with some memorable exceptions when John was away, or she was on a heavy period. Even pregnant with Tom they had maintained a regular programme. She’d assume it would just take a few quick strokes to get her off. But she’d been wrong. she was so desperate, so eager, that her feelings were completely pent up. She had locked them away to stay sane, putting them out of her mind so that she could concentrate on other things. So when the chance finally came, she just couldn’t cum. It was only with a struggle that she was able to allow those feelings out. What it because of a loyalty to her husband? No, it wasn’t that, because she felt no guilt or shame at fucking Mike. No, it was just a struggle to release her sexuality that had been suppressed.

As she replayed the memory of that coupling, she found her hand slipping down her shorts and pushing her thong aside. Her fingers found dampness and warm flesh, inviting attention, which she couldn’t resist.

And as she played with her clit, alternately stroking it with the pad of her finger tip and scratching it with her nail, she recalled Terrell’s vicious approach to sex, verging on rape. And despite his arrogance, rudeness and selfishness, he had read her and her needs so well. Her free hand rose to her breasts, pushing up under her shirt and into her bra, finding her nipples throbbing. She recalled his roughness and the surprise with which she found she responded to it, more so than to the gentleness and experience of her husband, or Mike’s the desperate and frantic activity.

Her fingers were in her cunt now, stretching it wide, thrusting deep. Her nails dug deep into her nipples. But she knew, however hard she tried, and she had tried when John was away, listening to his voice over the phone, following his directions, she knew she would not come. Not even if she had a vibrator, she would not be able to come. She knew because she had tried and failed. The useless equipment was somewhere in the back of a bottom drawer. No, only one thing would give her the satisfaction she needed. Cock. A real cock. A thick cock. One that would pummel her hard. and there was only one way to get that at short notice, before John came home.

She reached over her phone, her fingers sticky with her juices smeared the screen, but she managed to send a text to Terrell. A short, desperate message, begging him to come. His replay came by return. He was on his way.

He’d be here in minutes. And that left one problem. Tom.

She returned to his room and knocked. There was no answer and when she opened the door, his room was empty. He had gone. Where had he gone? She didn't know. Why had he gone? She didn't care. She just needed a fast fuck before John got home.

Terrell’s broad grin greeted Angela before she had the door half way open.

‘Desperate, eh?’ he smirked.

‘Your bitch is on heat,’ she replied grabbing his t-shirt and dragging him inside.

‘Thought as much,’ Terrell’s thick lips sucked on hers as she pressed her belly against his crotch. ‘Soon as I got your text. I was fucking a Jap bit at the time, but I said, sorry, got to go now, we’ll finish this later.’

Angela pulled back slightly to look at Terrell’s eyes.

‘Is that true? You were checking your phone while you were fucking the girl?’

‘Sure,’ Terrell confirmed, ‘you never know when you’re going to get a better offer. And you,’ his hands clamped on her buttocks, kneading deep into her muscles, ‘are a better offer. For the moment,’ he added, moving his hands to her tits.

Angela’s hand grabbed at his crotch, feeling a rock hard shaft.

‘Yea,’ Terrell confirmed, ‘it’s still hard. You can taste her cunt on me if you want.’

Angela dropped to her knees, unzipped him and pulled out his cock. She sniffed and licked hungrily. Terrell laughed.

‘You sure are on heat. What got this on?’

Angela took a break and looked up.

‘Thinking about you and what you did to me.’

She returned to feasting on his rod.

‘So,’ Terrell enquired casually, ‘how long we got? Is that boy of your upstairs listening?’

‘We’re alone.’ Angela licked a blob of precum off the tip. ‘For the moment, but we have to be quick.’

‘No problem.’ Terrell grabbed a handful of her hair, pulled her to her feet, the ducked under arm and tossed her over his shoulder. ‘Where’s you want it. Sofa, bed, stairs?’

‘Spare room,’ Angela gasped. ‘Upstairs to the left.’

Terrell set off at a trot.

‘Old man got the scent down here, did he? Well, I do come off strong. What did he do to you?’

‘Tried to fuck me,’ Angela replied as best she could doing her jolting journey up the stairs. ‘Failed. Fucking useless. Useless fuck.’

Terrell pushed open the door of the spare room, threw Angela onto the bed, and kicked the door shut. His t-shirt was over his head and his jeans around his ankles by the time he had turned back and climbed onto the bed.

‘You look overdressed, girl. What we going to so about that?’

Angela just stared back, challenging him to do whatever he dared, hoping he would. Terrell grinned his understanding, grabbed Angela’s shirt and ripped it open, sending buttons flying. Two sharp pulls and her bra gave up resisting his attention. He spun her over and her shorts and thong were round on the floor before she landed with her face buried in a pillow.

Terrell’s hands clasped her hips and pulled her up towards him. Angela screamed as he pegged her ass with one swift stroke. Terrell laughed.

‘Not expecting that, eh? I need something tight, just like that Jap bit, she’s got the tightest cunt I ever met.’

Ignoring Angela’s protests, he pumped her in long hard strokes, each one forcing her further up the bed.

‘Terrell, you bastard,’ her voice was muffled by the pillow. ‘I’ll break your fucking balls after this.’

‘I doubt that. You’ll enjoy if, after a while.’

Angela’s head had reached the wall now, and each thrust rammed her skull into the plaster. Her body shook with each successive assault. Just as she was getting to enjoy the unusual sensation, Terrell pulled out. Did he actually know, she wondered, just when to withdraw what was becoming a pleasure.

But he hadn’t finished. A slight shift of position and he was fucking her cunt. This time he grabbed her hair with both hands like the mane of a horse.

‘How’d you like it, bitch? Being ridden by a real stallion?’

‘Bastard, fucking bastard,’ she shouted as loud as she could, her hands reaching back to scratch his thighs.

‘Hah,’ Terrell paused and lent forward to whisper in her ear. ‘Trying to mark me are you? Mark me as you stud? Is that what you want? Well, you’ll find it easier the other way round.’

Again he withdrew from her and spun her over. As her legs landed on the covers, he dropped between them and began pumping hard.

‘Come on, bitch, come on. That old guy of yours will be coming up the stairs soon. And Tom behind him probably. Come on, I got to get back to finish that bit off.’

He rammed her hard as she dug her nails into his flesh and gouged them down his chest. Suddenly her vision blurred and she felt herself shaking uncontrollable, shouting abuse, bucking against his cock, pulling on his hair, forcing his head down to kiss her.

Then, as suddenly as it had started, it subsided. She opened her eyes and looked up. Terrell was already into his jeans and was pulling his t-shirt over his head to cover up the blood oozing onto his chest.

‘Thanks,’ Angela managed as he turned to leave.

‘No worries, baby,’ he called back, ‘any time.’

With Terrell gone, Angela collected her discarded clothes and jumped into the shower in an attempt to remove any lingering smell before John came home. In the event, she was sound asleep before she felt him slip into the bed beside her and fold her in his arms. She reached out and stroked him gently, but obviously to little effect and they both drifted off after a few minutes.

Tom was already having breakfast when she and John rose next morning. He kept his eyes down, gulped down a coffee and left as soon as he decently could. John just raised his eyebrows, as if to say that he remembered how difficult it was at his age. Angela just wondered where he had gone and what he had done.

With John on his way to work, she turned her attention to the main task of the morning: soothing her ass. Terrell’s unexpected attention had left her feeling raw. Examination with the aid of a mirror revealed the cause, some torn flesh and a little bleeding. Careful and regular application of some soothing cream was going to be required again. It was just beginning to take effect when the text came in. Marcie was calling a meeting. Same place? And right away. Why? Had Tom done something last night that was going to get him into more trouble?

She had bought a coffee for Marcie so that it was ready when she arrived, but she just pushed it aside.

‘What the fuck are you playing at?’ she demanded, leaning across the table and hissing in Angela’s face. ‘You can’t just go around ordering guys in, like a pizza, not even Terrell. He’s going around telling everyone you called him when he was “up his Jap bit” as he so delightfully puts it.’

Angela nodded.

‘That’s what he told me. But how was I to know?’

‘Let’s get some things straight here,’ Marcie continued ignoring Angela’s attempt at an excuse. ‘The lady in question is not Japanese, but Korean. She is indeed diminutive and no doubt Terrell finds her a tight fit given the, er, well let’s say advanced stage of development for his age.’

‘You mean his enormous todger.’ Angela attempted to lighten the mood, but Marcie was not to be diverted.

‘She is not someone who should be demeaned in the way Terrell refers to her. She is a highly respected and successful research scientist, developing cancer drugs. Her husband is senior partner in a leading law firm. Unfortunately …’ She paused and finally took a sip of her coffee.

‘Unfortunately, she is also oversexed and insatiable. Which is the only reason why we allow Terrell to visit her. I have had her on the phone this morning complaining bitterly at being abandoned on the verge of orgasm and then to have him return an hour later with his chest covered in scratches.’

‘But how was I to know?’ Angela protested. ‘He didn’t tell me until he arrived. What was I supposed to do? Send him back?’

Again Marcie ignored the intervention to pursue her point.

‘I don’t think you would take kindly if a boy was in the middle of giving you a very satisfying internal massage when he suddenly stopped to check his texts and told you he had to go fuck someone else.’

‘No,’ conceded Angela, ‘I don’t suppose any of us would be amused. But-‘

Marcie interrupted before Angela could embark on further self-justification and mitigation.

‘I am sorry, Angela, but I am going to have to give you an official reprimand about your behaviour. And a warning too - this will be a final warning before you are removed from the project.’

Angela stared in amazement. She was being reprimanded as if she were a naughty school girl.

‘Just who do you think you are talking to-‘

But again she got no further.

‘It’s not just calling Terrell away from another woman. You may not know Terrell sufficiently well to appreciate that he spends most of his time fucking so there was a high likelihood that that is what he would be doing. More importantly, you have not understood the ethos of the project, so let me try to explain it as simply as I can.’

Angela was too astonished to speak.

‘It’s about helping mothers cope with an interruption, hopefully a temporary interruption, to their sexual activity. It is about the boys providing a service that relieves the stress and frustration that the mothers feel. It is not about having a total 24 hour sexual experience. And it is about respect, respect on both sides. I must insist that you support that ethos if you are to remain a recipient of our service.’

She paused to see if Angela had understood, but Angela just stared back.

‘You must know by now – and I admit I was slow to realise this myself – that the boys are telling each other every detail of what they do to the moms and what the mothers do to them. That is something that we must be aware of. It does not help boys to show respect if one of them is summoned from another mom’s bed by an oversexed bitch on heat – that was Terrell’s description of you – who then marks the boy as their property with deep scratches, which he naturally then displays as a trophy.’

Angela sipped some coffee to cover her confusion. Obviously Terrell had reported back everything she had said or done.

‘And it’s made worse when your own son is hearing all this. Do you really think it helps him to hear a detailed account of his mother undergoing a sustained anal rape, which ends with her begging her assailant not to stop?’

Angela finally found the words to respond.

‘You’re a fine one to talk. Calling me oversexed. What about you summoning Mike every chance you get for a fuck between classes in your office? How would that sound if it came out? It would mean the end of your career, and your reputation, and your free fucks. You see,’ she reached across and jabbed Darcie in her breast, ‘it’s not only the moms the boys discuss. It’s you as well. You think you are earning some respect. Hah. Do you know what they call you? The Great White Whale, because that’s what you look like when you’re splayed on your desk with Mike humping you for all he’s worth. And what about the time you fell off him and landed on the floor. How much respect does that earn for you? Eh?’

She glared at Marcie and saw the hurt in her eyes – all this was news to her. Angela tried to be more placatory.

‘Of course, I don’t want Tom to hear all this. But how can I stop it? Look, Marcie,’ she reached out and touched the Principal’s arm, ‘we’re alike the two of us. We aren’t like most of the other mothers. They just want a nice boy who’ll give them some attention for a few minutes so they can off and get back to the dusting. Lots of mothers are like that. But we’re not. The Korean scientist, she isn’t either. We need more. We are used to having more. A quickie and a nice warm feeling in our belly isn’t worth the bother for us. We are used to more. We need more. And we’re not going to be satisfied with what most women want. I need to be satisfied properly.’

She paused to let Marcie have a say, but she didn’t speak.

‘Let me tell you what that means. It means not having an itch in my cunt that I can’t scratch. I’ve tried masturbating, even used a vibrator once. But that doesn’t work. I need a cock, a solid cock, one that’s alive and responds to me as I devour it. I want to be lifted off the bed by the power of a guy’s ejaculation. I want him to collapse on me exhausted from the effort to satisfy me. If I don’t get that, and get it regularly, I just can’t concentrate on anything. I wander around trying to distract myself, starting things but not finishing them. I just can’t function without proper sex. So if all you can offer is a nice polite boy with half an hour to spare, you and your project can go fuck. And what’s more …’

She stopped abruptly and sat back.

‘Yes,’ Marcie prompted, ‘yes, what more, what more is there? Let it out and you’ll feel better.’ Angela wondered whether Marcie’s aggressive stance had been a tactic to get her to open up. She was a teacher, after all.

‘I’m beginning to like what I’m getting. More than from John. I’ve learnt to like being treated roughly. Terrell, for all his faults, has opened a new world for me. I’m sorry for the Korean lady, please apology to her for me. But I’m guessing that she feels the same as me.’

So,’ she leaned forward, ‘let’s not hear any more about removing me from the project, or about removing Tom either. He needs someone who is more understanding, who will help him through if he cums too soon, like I had to with Mike.’

She reached out and took a tight grip on the Principal’s arm.

‘Because if I hear any more of this shit about reprimands and removal from the project, for either Tom or me, I will make it my business to let the authorities know just what is going on in your school. Is that clear?’

Marcie nodded slowly.

‘Oh yes, Angela, oh yes, I understand you all too well.’

Marcie remained at the table as Angela strode out into the mall. Her hands were clenched tight to stop them shaking. Her teeth were clenched tight in anger. Never, never in all her career had a parent spoken to her like that. Not just spoken, threatened her too. This was intolerable. Her authority was essential for her to function as Principal. Yes here was some bitch on heat, as Terrell has so accurately described her, refusing to accept a reprimand or a warning, laying down the law and telling her how to treat one of her own pupils. That pupil was, of course, Angela’s own son. Marcie prayed fervently that the ground would open up and swallow the pair of them. Angela was going to pay for her attitude, along with her precious son.

But she had given Marcie some useful information when she lost her temper. She now knew what the boys said behind her back, what they really thought about her. And some of that information could only have come from one source – Mike. He was the only one with access to some of the personal details, details that were now common knowledge. He was going to pay too.

She got herself a double espresso and began making phone calls.

The first was to the Korean mother who had been so badly treated by Angela and Terrell. She didn’t convey Angela’s apology, but made one of her own. Then she offered up some form of recompense. ‘Ji-a, listen. I wonder if we could do each other a favour. I know you have Terrell pretty much at your disposal; he is something of an acquired taste, something that only a connoisseur like yourself can appreciate. But I am sure you could manage another boy as well, one who is having some problems and might benefit from some training. He’s not in Terrell’s class, quite the opposite, but you might have some fun and he’ll benefit in the long run. What do you say?’ Ji-a was up for it. Any new sexual experience was always welcome.

The next call was to her secretary. She was to tell Mike that he wouldn’t be needed during the breaks today and should catch up on his outstanding projects. But she would see him after the final class, in her office. ‘And, Martha,’ she concluded, ‘I’ve got some business to finish here so I wouldn’t be back until early afternoon.’

The final call was to Terrell, who was more than open to her suggestion. After all, it came with his Principal’s approval and he had the recording of the call to prove it. So there’d be no comeback, whatever happened. And, unless he was very much mistaken, there wouldn’t be any. Pity he wouldn’t have time for Ji-a tonight, but he was getting bored with her.

With her calls made, she gulped down the remainder of her drink and went home.

Her bedroom looked like a burglar had tried to find a secret horde of cash. But there had been no burglar and there was no cash. The mayhem was caused by Marcie pulling out drawers and rummaging through the contents, searching for something to wear for her encounter with Mike. The old, everyday, faded underwear would not be appropriate tonight. At the back of a shelf in her closet she found an outfit that she used to wear for her husband, the one that always got him rampant. There was even a semen stain on the front where he had cum in his excitement the last time she wore it. But that was a long time ago and no way would she fit into it know. Anyway, she had some dignity to maintain, at least at first and didn’t want anything too tarty. Eventually she found just the thing. Panties and bra in white lace, a present to herself so she could wear it on the second honeymoon she and her husband had planned, until he dropped the bombshell of his affair and desire for a divorce. She tried them on and examined herself in her mirror. Just right, attractive, sexy and flattering, without being too revealing. And then, where were they, ah yes, pushed behind a pile of sweaters. Garter belt and stockings in black. A nice contrast with the rest of the outfit. And over the top, well obviously just her everyday dress. She didn’t want to give Mike any warning of what to expect. That was going to be a complete surprise.

Immediately after class, Mike knocked on the Principal’s door and let himself in with the familiarity of someone who was expected. Marcie was perched on the front of her desk, one foot up on the cushion of a chair. Mike’s eyes instinctively dropped at what he thought was a flash of thigh, but that couldn’t be. Marcie wasn’t like that.

‘Hi, Mike,’ Marcie’s greeting was warm, warmer than usual. ‘Lock the door and come over here.’

As he approached her, she rose and, when he was within an arm’s length, she delivered a sharp backhand slap across his face that sent him reeling back in surprise.

‘What the-‘ was all he managed before she was in front of him again and a punch caught him on the jaw, sending him to the floor.

He tried to rise, but Marcie’s shoe hit him in the chest and her weight pinned him down. With her dress riding up, he now saw that he had not been mistaken. There was bare thigh above the stockings.

Unsure of what she would do next, he was puzzled when she walked away and sat behind her desk.

‘Come here,’ she beckoned, ‘and have that chair.’ She pointed to the chair where earlier she had rested her foot.

‘Mike,’ she began when he had settled into his seat, his hand checking his face for damage, ‘I want you to tell me how you feel about me.’

Mike was thrown by the question. He wasn’t sure what he was expected to say.

‘Well, Miss, er, Principal, how can I put it, like, it’s an honour to be selected by you. I’m proud to be able to give you what you want.’

Marcie stared at him.

‘I’m disappointed in you, Mike. Hurt, in fact, yes really hurt. I didn’t expect you to keep everything that we did private, that would be too much to expect. But I did hope that you would show some discretion, some respect for me and for what we shared. But you haven’t.’

Mike began to protest that he had not told the other boys everything.

‘No, I’m sure that’s true, Mike, but you’ve told them a lot. Too much. And worse you’ve said things that I find deeply hurtful. I have a position here, one of authority, and I can’t do my job if you undermine that authority by telling tales. I misjudged you when I thought I had chosen someone I could rely on.’

Mike was bewildered by this sudden turn of events. Someone had reported back things he had said. But who? And what? How could he defend himself when he didn’t know what she had heard? But Marcie wasn’t leaving him time to think.

‘I am not naïve. I never expected you to fall in love with me or find me physically exciting. I am what you see, a woman in her 60s who has put on some weight and not taken as good care of herself as some of the mothers in the project. Unlike Angela, say, who has nothing to do all day but preen herself. I have had a career as well as a home to run.’

Where was all this leading? Mike tried to fathom out a suitable, tactful reply, but Marcie was off again before he could find the words.

‘But then you are not exactly a prime example of masculinity. You cock is thin, even thin by the standard of someone of your age. No doubt you have compared yourself with others in the changing room and showers and probably noted that you are somewhat slender in that department. You may have consoled yourself that size doesn’t matter. Don’t delude yourself, it does. Maybe not for everyone. Ji-a, for example, is very small stature and she’d probably fit you a snug fit, but for someone with a mature woman’s genitals you are difficult to get a grip on.’

Was this hurting him? She hoped so and she had no intention of relenting.

‘You pride yourself on how long you can last, on how much stamina you have. Well, that is fortunate, because it is the only thing you have to make up for your lack of skill. Humping and pumping is not enough. It is surprising that you haven’t learnt that already. I didn’t want to say anything, because I didn’t want to humiliate you. Clearly, my consideration for you was not reciprocated and sadly misplaced.’

Mike’s eyes showed that she had hurt him.

‘That’s why you failed with Angela, wasn’t it? Alright, you covered it up well when you made your reports, but I know from experience what boys – and grown men too - conceal. You shot your load before you barely got up her welcoming cunt, didn’t you. She had to take control so that you didn’t run off in embarrassment, which I’m sure was your instinct.’

Mike nodded and hung his head.

‘It was only thanks to her efforts that she managed to cum. You told your story with such pride, reporting everything she did. But what you were doing, to anyone who understood, was revealing your own inadequacy.’

Mike didn’t look up when she had finished. He didn’t know what to say. He began stammering incoherently but Marcie could not make out the words.

‘Mike,’ she snapped eventually, ‘look at me.’

Slowly, he raised his head.

‘We will not be meeting any more, not in breaks or after classes. But I have some responsibility to you as a pupil at this school and as a member of this project. A responsibility to help you understand what a woman requires of a lover.’

She rose, advanced round her desk and unszipped her dress, letting it fall to around her feet, where she kicked it aside. Mike stared at how transformed she was by the simple change of underwear. His lips went dry as his eyes took in her large breasts, pushed up and out by the reinforced lace of the bra, so that they pillowed in soft piles just at his eye line. The glistening white of her panties held his gaze, knowing what lay beneath. The pelt of rich, thick hair that he had never mentioned to anyone else, the one secret he had kept. And then the plump thighs cut by the line of her suspenders. He licked his lips and felt his cock twitching.

‘Get you kit off,’ she ordered. ‘You’re going to learn what a real fuck is like.’

Angela’s phone rang as she was walking away from the mall. Terrell.

‘Hi, babe, how’ya doin?’

‘Fine,’ Angela replied, ‘apart from a sore ass.’

Terrell laughed.

‘Fancy another bout, only I’m free of classes if you’re interested?’

‘What about the Jap bit,’ Angela asked sarcastically, ‘isn’t she up for it?’

‘Nah, she’s working. No use calling her.’

Angela’s sore ass reminded her that she needed to apply some more cream and of the consequences of letting Terrell near her back door, but that apart another session certainly had its attractions. So, what the hell.

‘OK,’ she said, ‘I’ve a few things to do, so give me an hour. Is that OK?’

‘Sure,’ Terrell turned on the charm, ‘however long you take will be worth the wait.’

‘Worth it for me, or for you, or for both of us?’ Angela wasn’t used to Terrell being either polite or subtle.

‘Time will tell,’ he laughed, and rang off.

An hour to the second later, the door bell rang and Angela found herself greeted by a grinning Terrell and another boy who could have been Terrell’s twin.

‘This is Wayne,’ Terrell announced as he fondled Angela’s ass and planted a moist mouth on hers. ‘Say hello, Wayne.’ Wayne stepped forward and fondled Angela’s tits. She slapped his hand away.

‘What is this?’ she demanded. ‘You didn’t mention a friend. I’m not into threesomes. Aren’t you man enough to cope on your own?’

Terrell laughed and kicked the front door shut.

‘She’s a scream, isn’t she, Wayne. Didn’t I tell you you’d enjoy this.’

Angela blocked the hall way and tried to usher them out, but Terrell and Wayne just put a hand each under the arms and carried her upstairs and into the spare room, where they tossed her on the bed.

‘So,’ Terrell asked looking at Wayne, ‘what’ya think of the bit?’

Wayne gave Angela an appraising look.

‘Not bad,’ he remarked eventually, ‘for her age. Well preserved, but the tits are a bit small for my taste. What’s she like butt naked?’

‘Ah,’ moaned Terrell, ‘that’s the problem. Like I said, she’s like a forest down there. And I am feeling a bit peckish.’

Angela tried to rise from the bed, but the boys held her down and began pulling off her shorts and shirt.

‘I see what you mean,’ Wayne commented as Angela’s rich thatch of pubic hair came into view. ‘We’ll have to do something about that.’

‘Hold on,’ Angela protested, ‘it’s my body and I’ll decide-‘

Her protestations were cut short by Terrell slapping his hand over her mouth.

‘Check out the bathroom, Wayne. There’s got to be something we can use.’

A couple of minutes later Wayne reappeared holding a can of shaving foam and a safety razor.

‘This should do it,’ he announced. ‘You hold her down Wayne and I’ll get trimming.’

With Terrell sitting on her chest and ignoring her fists as they beat on his back, and Wayne sitting on her thighs, Angela was trapped. She cursed them as the cold foam was sprayed over her hair and rubbed in vigorously and forced back her tears when the razor rasped across her skin.

Finally, Wayne rose from her legs and surveyed the mess of foam and hair that he had thrown onto the bedding and the carpet.

‘Good job, man,’ Terrell congratulated him. ‘You deserve first go. I’ll let the lady have a taste of some real meat while you tuck in below.’

He swivelling round, rose on his knees and dropped his jeans to reveal his thick cock waving in front of her face.

Angela jumped in surprise as Wayne’s teeth grated across her sore and newly exposed lips.

'Now, now,' Terrell chastised her, 'no biting, not unless you want to be punished.'

Mike didn’t respond to Marcie’s curt order. He just sat and stared. Never before had he seen her like this.

‘Fuck,’ he sighed, ‘fuck me, Marcie, you’re hot.’

This time he saw the slap coming, but failed to avoid it completely as Marcie’s knuckles caught his temple just by his right eye.

‘I’m not Marcie,’ she snapped. ‘You know how to address me properly.’

Mike ignored the rebuke and reached out to touch her.

‘Fuck,’ he sighed, ‘fuck me, Principal, Miss, but you’re hot.’

His finger tips floated over the mounds of her breasts, pushed up by her bra. He traced their contours, and his chest tightened. Then he lent forward and nuzzled his face between them, feeling their softness, savouring their warmth, and smelling the sweat. He breathed deeply, as he dropped gentle kisses on her breasts and his hands moved over her ass, pushing under her panties and past the suspender straps, his fingers kneading her buttocks.

Marcie unfastened her bra and let her breasts fall out so that he could devour her nipples, chewing and biting them, while his fingers worked towards her crack and slowly slid along it, bypassing her puckered hole and then returning, this time to tickle around the edge, rimming her gently on each pass. She didn’t tense or push him away, but her fingers rummaged through his hair, pulling tightly each time his fingers approached her hole.

Cautious but encouraged, Mike let his fingers dally until he plucked up courage to probe inside, a single finger, working inside, moving around, sinking to the first knuckle, then the second. Marcie’s grip on his hair tightened. A second finger joined the first, the pair entering slowly as before, stretching her wider. Marcie moaned softly. With his face between her tits, he knew her breathing was becoming faster. Then the third finger, forcing her wide. The three together pumping in and out, in and out, stretching further each time.

‘Fuck,’ Marcie groaned. ‘Fuck,’ slightly louder. Then louder again and again, until she was screaming.

Her hands tore at his waistband, forcing his pants and shorts down, her hand reaching round to grab his cock. Pulling hard on the stiff shaft, pumping him in rhythm as he pumped her. With her spare hand, she pushed aside the crotch of her panties and pulled him towards her.

‘Fuck me,’ she hissed desperately into his ear, ‘now, hard, fuck me hard.’

Mike now established his own rhythm, finger fucking her ass, cock fucking her cunt. Adjusting his speed to Marcie’s response. Slowing teasingly when her hips bucked against him, forcing his cock deeper, or speeding up when her breathing began to steady. Stretching her ass further when her muscles tensed again his fingers.

Her fingers told him when she was about to cum, her nails digging into his back, gouging into his flesh. He dug his thumb nails deep into her buttocks and thrust into her cunt as fast as he could, pulling his face away from her tits to take in the breath he needed to sustain his fucking. He was on the verge of exhaustion when she finally came, wrapping her legs around his hips and gripping tight on his cock as she drained every drop of cum from him. She collapsed back on her desk with him on top of her, smothering her chest and neck and mouth with kisses.

At last she released him and they retrieved their clothes.

‘That wasn’t quite what I expected to happen,’ Marcie told him, her breath still slightly rasping. ‘Now you can go.’

Mike stared back. He didn’t want to leave her and he didn’t want this to be the last time.

‘Marcie,’ he began, but changed hastily to ‘Miss, Principal, I’m sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to honestly and what we’ve just done is the best ever. I know I failed you before, but please don’t reject me, not now, not after what we just did. Please.’

Marcie wanted to relent. So desperately she wanted to keep this new relationship alive.

‘No, Mike, I’m sorry, but I have made my decision. But you can do one thing for me, if you will.’

Mike stood shocked by her response, but knew he couldn’t challenge her.

‘Anything,’ he said sadly, ‘just tell me what you want.’

‘Tell your friends,’ Marcie told him. Tell your friends about what we did.’

Terrell’s threat of punishment was unnecessary. Angela was barely able to open her mouth wide enough to accommodate his cock. Her whole body was tense and rigid. It was only the weight of the two boys pressing her down that prevented her shaking uncontrollably. She had never been so humiliated and she had no doubt who was responsible. The timing was all too neat. Her confrontation with Marcie and then Terrell making himself available. This was her revenge for the hurt she had caused the Principal and her response to Angela’s threat.

Angela was stunned by this assault, by the violation. She had never cut off her pubic hairs, never once. Right from the first shoots she had nurtured them, proud of them as a mark of her growing from a girl to a woman. She was proud of them. Tidying them, certainly; trimming them back from time to time in line with the latest fashion, of course; but they were always there, a substantial thatch. And now they were gone, in a matter of minutes, hacked off. She had lost part of her sexual identity, a part that she could never recover, however quickly the hairs regrew. They were at the heart of her femininity and had been torn from her. She was no longer a person to these boys, just an object.

And how would she explain this to her husband? He knew how she felt about them. And he shared her pleasure in them, enjoying them as much as she did. She could conceal them for a night or two, maybe even a week or two in current circumstances, but not indefinitely, not long enough for them to regrow. That would take month.

Her mouth and tongue worked Terrell’s cock as if on autopilot. She gained no pleasure from a cock that she would have relished if he had just offered it to her. But forced down her throat in this way, she derived no pleasure and sought to give none. Just mechanical movements that would prevent him doing her any more harm. Or was she just postponing it.

Meanwhile, behind Terrell Wayne was working away. His warm breath an unfamiliar sensation on her newly exposed belly. The hairs on his upper lip scratching at the flesh that was raw from the razor. His tongue worked skillfully between her lips, tickling and teasing her clit, probing around her cunt. But she refused to let her body respond to his expert ministrations. No way would she give him the satisfaction of knowing he had overcome her resistance.

‘Fuck, Terrell,’ Wayne grumbled as he came up for air. ‘She’s hard work. Dry as the desert down here. What it’s like up there?’

‘Not much better,’ Terrell complained. ‘She’s not on top form today. Maybe the lady’s shy with the two of us around.’

Wayne laughed.

‘Yea, they’re often like that, to start with, but they usually come round to our way of thinking.’

Angela shuddered inwardly at the thought of that coming round to their way of thinking might involve.

‘Let’s just give her a fuck and get out of her,’ Wayne suggested.

Terrell pulled out from Angela’s mouth and climbed off her to kneel on the bed. Wayne sank onto his haunches on the floor at the foot of the bed.

‘Roll her over onto her side and we can take her together,’ Terrell ordered. ‘You can have her cunt, I’ll take her ass. That’ll be nice and tight. Just like that Jap’s cunt.’

The boys had just rolled her over and were poised to penetrated her when the door of the room flew open. All three turned to see who had interrupted.

Tom stood in the doorway transfixed at the sight that greeted him.

His mother lay on the bed with Terrell and Wayne kneeling either side of her, their massive cocks swaying before them. And around them was chaos. Clothes were strewn across the floor. There were blobs of shaving cream on the bedding and carpet. And a razor lay in the middle of the rug. All around were clumps of dark pubic hair.

Angela was the first to react. She flew off the bed and into her son’s arms, holding him tight. He felt her naked flesh against him and her whole body quaking.

He instantly understood. Understood her vulnerability and understood that he had to protect her.

‘Get out,’ he told the boys as firmly as he could. ’Get your things and get out of my mother’s house.’

But they were not so easily ordered about.

‘Fuck you, Tom,’ Terrell hissed back. ‘You get the fuck out. This is none of your business. Clear out if you know what is good for you.’

But Tom stood his ground, holding Terrell’s gaze.

It was Wayne who broke the spell. ‘Looks like he needs to be taught a lesson, eh, Terrell.’

‘Yea,’ Terrell replied, ‘him and his mother both.’

In unison, with mutual understanding honed in numerous fights on the streets, they climbed off the bed and advanced towards Tom and Angela.

‘No,’ Angela screamed, ‘don’t you dare touch my son.’

‘Aw, how sweet,’ cooed Wayne. ‘Mummy’s protecting her little bo-‘

His words were cut short by Angela kicks. The top of her foot crashed into his balls, knocking the wind from his lung and sending Wayne to his knees, his cock visible shrinking as he sank.

Terrell took advantage of Angela’s move to advance on Tom, who he grabbed by the front of his shirt. Angela spun round from the prostrate Wayne and tried to pull Terrell off. Failing in that, she leapt on his back, her legs round his waist and her hands on his face, digging into his eyes.

‘Balls him, Tom,’ she shouted, ‘kick the bastard’s balls.’

Tom hesitated from attacking, but Angela persisted.

‘For fuck’s sake, Tom, hit the bastard.’

Tom bunched his fist and threw it as hard as he could at Terrell’s muscled stomach. Taken by surprise, he grunted and let go of Tom’s shirt, throwing himself around to dislodge Angela. She let go and stepped back, taking advantage of his momentum and bringing her knee up hard into his balls. As he doubled over in pain, she brought her knee up again into his face.

Wayne was trying to scramble to his feet to rejoin the fray, but Angela flew across the room, grabbed hold of a shoe and began hitting him about the head. Tom grabbed her round her waist and hauled her off.

They stood side by side, both breathing hard, surveying the two injured boys and the debris around them.

‘Now,’ Tom regained his breath first, ‘like I said, get out, both of you. Get your things and get out.’

The boys scrambled around for their clothes and staggered to their feet, still suffering but defiant.

‘You’ll pay for this,’ Terrell spat in Tom’s face. ‘Yea, just you wait,’ Wayne added.

Angela blocked their path, daring them to risk their manhood again.

‘No, no he won’t pay for it. If anything happens to him, I’ll make sure all your friends on the street know what happened here. You won’t seem so big to them when they hear you were beaten up by a middle aged woman and her son. You’ll be a laughing stock.’

She stood aside and watched them tumble down the stairs and out of the house.

At the sound of the door slamming, she and Tom flew into each other’s arms. Each shaking from relief and fear, proud and surprised in equal measure at what they had done.

‘What will you father say if he sees this?’ Angela was beginning to regain her composure and think of the consequences.

‘Don’t worry, mom. I’ll clear up here while you yourself a nice warm bath.’

Angela left him to cleaning up the mess and staggered to the bathroom. She ran the bath, poured in a large helping of bath oil, and buried her head in the toilet she was violently sick. By the time Tom put his head in the door, she was lying under a mountain of bubbles.

‘It’s all sorted, mom. The bedding is in the wash, I rubbed the shaving foam out of the carpet and cleared up your …’ He stopped. ‘Well, cleared up the rest.’

Angela smiled at her son.

‘Come in and talk to me, Tom.’

He didn’t need an invitation. He came and knelt by the bath, gently swirling warm water over his mother. Slowly his hand came closer to her body and began to stroke her. She put her head back and sighed. His hands worked over the belly and onto her breasts, but she didn’t stop him. They moved back down to her thighs, but still she lay there. They pushed between her thighs and moved upwards until he was touching her pussy lips.

‘Tom’ she said.

He tried to read her tone. What was she trying to express? Her gratitude for his help. Her shame and embarrassment. Her relief. Her pride in how he had protected her. Her fear at her husband finding out what had happened. Her pleasure at Tom’s touch. A reprimand for going too far. A warning to him to stop. Some or all of these. He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t move his hand.

By the time her husband came home, Angela knew what she had to do. She had regained her composure and behaved perfectly normally as they ate supper, exchanging polite chit chat about how his day had gone and why the neighbour had changed his car for the third time that year. Tom was disengaged, busy as so often on his phone, checking and sending emails and texts.

As soon as the meal was over, Tom announced that he had to go out. He didn’t say why and Angela assumed that this was Marcie responding to her demand that Tom be restored to the project. He’d be gone for some time, enough time for Angela’s plan.

‘John,’ she said nonchalantly as she cleared the dishes and stacked them in the dishwasher, ‘why don’t we have an early night. Tom will be back late, so we can just relax together for once.’

John looked at her sceptically, but agreed and they headed upstairs together.

While John busied himself in the bathroom, Angela stripped and donned a fresh shirt. She knew what she had to do and the sooner she did it the better. Her husband emerged from the bathroom in a pair of shorts to find his wife standing waiting for him by their bed. He stopped, unsure of what to expect.

Slowly, Angela unbuttoned the shirt, let it fall open and then eased it over her shoulders, exposing first her breasts and then her belly and at last her bare crotch. John’s eyes followed the progress of the shirt down her body and widened at the sight of her newly shaved pussy. He stepped forward and dropped to his knees in front of her, his breath coming fast on her flesh. He looked up questioningly.

‘Why?’ he asked. ‘I thought your thatch meant so much to you.’

Angela didn’t answer his question directly.

‘I did this for you,’ she told him quietly. ‘I thought it might help.’ She closed her eyes and prayed her husband didn’t detect the deception in her voice.

‘For me.’ John almost choked on the words. ‘For me. Oh Angie, you did this for me.’

He buried his face in her crotch, his hands stroking her thighs and buttocks. Carefully she retreated to the bed and sank back, letting him kiss and lick her lips. He lifted his face and she pulled him onto her, wriggling back on the bed, her hands pushing at the waistband of his shorts. They were now naked with him between her thighs, his tongue tickling her nipples. She held her breath, as he brought his lips up to hers.

Cautiously, she reached down, her fingers stroking his chest and then his belly and then finally reaching his cock. To her delight, she found it had lengthened and was stiffening slightly.

Carefully, tenderly, she began to stroke it. It twitched slightly, but didn’t stiffen noticeably. She left it be and let her hands roam over his back and buttocks, as he began to nuzzle her neck. She let her breath trickle into his ear, followed by the tip of her tongue exploring round his lobe.

His breath was coming faster now, with low moans. She moved her hand between them once more and found his cock still only half stiff and twitching.

‘Please, please,’ he moaned, but it wasn’t clear if he was begging Angela to help him or praying that he could complete what he had started.

Angela took his cock and guided it towards her. She was wet enough to get him inside her, despite his semi-rigid state. Once inside, she gripped him tightly with her cunt muscles, trapping him and, she hoped, giving him a feeling that he was filling her.

‘Umm,’ she purred, ‘it’s so good to have you in there again.’

John didn’t meet his wife’s eyes. He knew, as she did, just how precarious his limited erection was.

‘Imagine we’re on honeymoon, and both virgins,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘We’re both nervous and neither of us really knows what to do. We need to explore each other and learn what we like. What would you like me to do to you?’

John didn’t need to think of the answer.

‘Spank me,’ he responded eagerly. This had always turned him on but his wife was reluctant so he didn’t insist.

Angela raised her hands and began slapping her husband’s buttocks. Gently at first, then with increasing speed and strength. He moaned and groaned and she was sure that he was stiffening up. He thought so too, because he tried a few exploratory strokes with his cock, but kept slipping out and had to ease himself back in.

‘This isn’t going to work,’ he sighed collapsing on her.

‘Don’t be so fucking defeatist,’ Angela snapped back, slapping his buttocks as hard as she could with each hand.

Her husband groaned loudly and shuddered. Unsure of what had happened, Angela lay still until she felt his cock slowly slide out of her. He had cum.

‘Sorry,’ he murmured.

Sorry was right. Angela lay there, holding him as she silently cursed him for being so useless. It looked as if she was going to be in the project, like it or not, for some time yet.

Mike left the Principal’s office with a backward glance and a hangdog expression. She locked the door behind him and flopped down in her chair. That had been good, really good. Not what she had planned. No, she had intended to take Mike, to show him the sexual power of a woman who needed sexual satisfaction and was determined to get it. But his response had been so genuine that she had let him take the lead, just guiding him gently in the right direction. The perfect lover. Not that the sex had been spectacular. Not the sort that had her whole insides quaking and her mind feeling like a firework display. But she had been left completely satisfied, for the first time for a long time, and she allowed herself to luxuriate in the afterglow. Only when that had begun to fade would she dress and make her way home.

She would miss Mike if that was his genuine reaction to her now that he was seeing her as a woman, and not as a piece of meat to get his rock off in. One day, not too far away, she would invite him back. And they would meet as lovers, not as Principal and pupil. But in the meantime what should she do? And then her mind went back to Angela and Terrell and she began to wonder how that little encounter had gone. Which made her think of Tom. Yes, Tom. Now that would add a nice twist, wouldn’t it. If she brought him in to replace Mike, she might be able to find out some useful information about Angela. There was something going on, that was for sure. He’d changed for some reason. His sexual problems were recent; before that he was happily servicing both Mary and her daughter without complaint. But then … Yes, something had happened. What could it have been? Of course, then his mother had joined the project and he had changed. There had to be a connection, but what could it be? If only she could find that out and how better with Tom in her cunt.

But her speculations were interrupted by the ringing of her phone. She checked the display. Terrell was calling. She picked up the call and listened with a broadening smile as he gave her an accurate account of how he and Wayne had stripped and shaved the bitch. Marcie’s fingers drifted to her own thick thatch. She understood the humiliation that Angela would feel to have hers torn from her. She barely listened to Terrell’s slightly exaggerated account of the subsequent rape. Had she been alert to the conversation, she would have detected the change of tone and detail and pressed to find out more, but her fingers were busily working in her crotch at the thought of the havoc they had wrought at her instruction with this woman who had threatened to destroy her.

‘Well done, Terrell. Keep away from her for a while. I’ll let you know if I want you to visit her again.’

At the other end, Terrell gently touched his still tender balls and nodded. He’d certainly be keeping well clear of that lady in future.

In her office, Marcie’s fingers worked hard, lubricated by Mike’s cum that was seeping out of her cunt. No way would Angela dare report what had happened. That would mean disclosing it to her husband and, Marcie was sure, that was something that Angela would not want to do. No, she’d not risk losing her comfortable life-style, not at her time of life. One final vigorous rubbing and Marcie was done as she pictured Angela’s bare crotch. For the second time that evening she lay back in the afterglow.

Now for Tom. She reached for her phone and wiped the slime from her fingers across her thigh before sending him a series of texts.

First an apology: I am so sorry that I have had to rest you from the project, but as you know the mothers are the prime concern and, in your current state, you have not been able to provide them with the satisfaction that they need. I am sure you understand, Tom, that I had no choice and that my decision was the best for the mother concerned and for the project as a whole. Also for you, of course, as pressure would not assist in overcoming your difficulties.

Next an invitation: I feel a responsibility to help you so, if you are interested, I would be willing to try to provide you with some support to allow you to overcome your problems. You won’t have heard yet, but Mike will not be providing any service for me from now on. So I will have the time to devote to you, if you are interested.

Finally a reassurance: As this won’t be part of the project, you won’t need to report on what happens at debrief and neither will I, so your friends won’t learn about your difficulties.

With the texts gone and as she waited for a reply, she reflected on how much things had changed in the course of the day. She had moved a long way from the ideals she set herself when the project began. She had now given two of her pupils permission to rape and humiliate the mother of another pupil, she had set up another pupil as a future long-term lover, and now she was using a pupil to trap his mother. She felt surprisingly calm, as she waited for Tom’s reply.

Tom had read Mike’s feverish account of his coupling with their Principal in a series of excited texts and had no idea that his mother was sure that she had set Terrell and Wayne on her. He responded promptly, asking when and where they should meet. Marcie suggested he come to her office right away if she could, but insisted that their meeting must remain confidential from the other boys on the project. Tom readily agreed, gulped down his supper and rushed out.

Marcie redressed herself, but left her hair in a dishevelled state as an indication of what she had been doing that evening. With luck, Mike would already have told his friend Tom about the encounter. So when he arrived, he found Marcie in her dress but with a warm smile on her face and a general look of satisfaction.

‘Tom,’ she began when he was seated in front of the her desk, ‘we all know that you experienced problems with premature ejaculation when you were with Mary.’

Tom looked down in embarrassment, but Marcie pressed on.

‘There is nothing to be embarrassed in discussing this with me. I want, if I can, to help your overcome this difficulty. The first and most important thing is to keep it in perspective. A woman doesn’t mind a man being unable to control himself.’ Tom looked up in surprise. ‘Why would she, after all,’ Marcie continued, ‘when it shows her power to arouse and excite a man.’ She hoped Tom would notice and appreciate his elevation to the status of being a man. ‘Just so long,’ she emphasised, ‘as it doesn’t happen too often, because we women like to be, actually we need to be, satisfied sexually.’

Tom was looking her in the eye now, just as she had hoped. He was engaging with her in what he hoped would be a recovery process.

‘Now, Tom, let’s move on and see if I can get some idea of what it is that sets you off. Tell me, are you hard at the moment?’

Tom shook his head and began to apologise.

‘No need to be sorry, Tom,’ Marcie reassured him. ‘We have just been having an adult conversation and there was no reason to become aroused. But how would you feel if I were to tell you that Mike and I had just been fucking, and that his cum is still dribbling out of my cunt, and that if you fuck me you’ll be bathing in his left overs?’

She paused for Tom to take in what she was saying. The slight flush on his face told him the answer. She moved round to perch on the front of the desk and put her foot on the seat of his chair. A flash of white flash drew his eyes up her dress, but he promptly averted his gaze back to her face.

‘If you reach your hand up my leg, you will find that my panties are damp.’

Tom hesitated and then, taking that as an instruction, or an invitation at least, pushed his hand along her thigh until he met her panties.

‘You see, I was right, wasn’t I?’

Tom nodded. His breath was coming faster.

‘Perhaps it would be better if you were able to see.’ She stood and unzipped her dress, letting it fall at her feet. Tom’s face, like Mike’s before him, was level with her breasts. He glanced down to see the obvious dark stain at her crotch. His expression told her that he appreciate what he saw as much as Mike had.

Marcie walked around for his benefit, turning her back so he could see her buttocks and bending over for some imaginary purpose. Returning, she slowly unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. She pulled him to his feet, surprising him with her strength, and pushed off his pants and shorts. His cock sprang free, waving majestically before him. She dropped to her knees and took a firm grip rubbing vigorously along his shaft. Within a few strokes, he was groaning and begging her to stop. She bent and began nibbling at the tip while her hands massaged his balls.

‘Noooo,’ Tom sighed as his cum shot out all over her face. To his surprise, Marcie did not reprimand him. Instead, she wiped the cum down over her tits and belly.

‘Now, Tom,’ she said calmly as he tried to stop the final dregs dripping onto her carpet, ‘while you recover, we need to chat about why you reacting this like.’

‘In the meantime, I feel a little overdressed with you naked, so why don’t you help me out of this bra and panties. I’ll keep the stockings and suspenders on for a while, I know you guys like that.’

Angela had a difficult night with her husband, John. He began by feeling sorry for her – apologising that he had been unable to perform, saying he understood her predicament and that this was the worst part of his problem for him, begging her to understand. After going to the bathroom to freshen up, he returned feeling more sorry for himself than for her – lamenting his condition, complaining that the doctors had no cure to offer, saying that Viagra wouldn’t help and that the problem was psychological, which only time would cure. Being depressed, he went in search of a drink and came back to bed in a truculent mood, blaming Angela for putting him under pressure to perform, causing his impotence and resulting in his failure that evening. It was only when they heard Tom return home in the early hours of the morning that John finally quietened down and eventually dropped off to sleep. The next morning Angela deliberately kept out of his way until he had gone to work. But then she rose and dressed quickly as she was desperate to speak to Tom. She found him at the kitchen table, having helped himself to breakfast.

‘Dad seemed upset this morning,’ he remarked casually.

Angela didn’t rise to the bait, not wanting to reveal anything more about her husband’s personal problems.

‘Tom,’ she sat down opposite him, ‘we need to talk about what happened yesterday.’

Tom was immediately reassuring.

‘Mom, you don’t need to worry on that score. I’m not going to tell anyone about what happened. About anything that happened,’ he added with emphasis.

‘No, Tom, it’s not that I don’t trust you. I need to warn you.’

Again he was quick to reassure her.

‘Mom, you don’t need to worry on that score either. I saw Wayne and Terrell when I was out last night and they just kept out of my way. They’re like all bullies. Once you stand up to them they don’t know what to do. And we certainly stood up to them. You were magnificent.’

He reached across and rested his hand on his mother’s bare arm. She felt his warmth and strength, but persisted.

‘No, Tom, it’s not that either. Although you were magnificent yourself. No, I want to warn you about Marcie.’

Tom looked worried.

‘Marcie? Warn me? Why? What about?’

‘Tom,’ his hand was still on Angela’s arm, ‘those boys didn’t come round here to … to do what they did … to abuse and rape me on their own. It can’t have been their idea. I think, well believe, no I’m sure that Marcie put them up to it, made sure they would be free of classes and then let them loose on me. You need to be careful around her. She’s turned on me and she could try to get at me through you.’

Tom squeezed his mother’s arm.

‘This is so typical of you,’ he told her. ‘You always think of others – too much. But’s it’s OK. Those guys are always skipping classes. They don’t need anyone’s permission. And you’re wrong about Marcie. She’s really kind. She has offered to help me with my premature ejaculation. She says we need to identify the cause in order to get to the bottom of it and work out how to get me back to normal.’

Angela began to shake.

‘No, Tom, no. Please don’t take her at face value. Think about how she will use you and anything you tell her to her advantage and against me.’

‘Mom, please, don’t worry. I’m not going to tell her about anything that happened between us. Not on the sofa when dad interrupted, not later in my room-‘

Angela couldn’t stand this any longer. She pulled her arm away and slammed her fist down on the table. Cups rattled and a spoon balanced precariously on the edge. She stood up to give herself some authority and to cover her confusion.

‘We’ve discussed this and I thought you had got it straight. You had a dream, perfectly understandable in the circumstances, but just a dream. You must not confuse dreams and fantasies with reality. If you do, we’ll have to get a psychiatrist or a psychologist or someone to help you.’

Tom read the fear and the threat in his mother’s words.

‘OK, mom, OK, so it was just a dream, but it was a wonderful dream. But what happened yesterday in the bathroom wasn’t. You invited me in remember.’

Angela did remember and she remembered her son splashing the soothing water over her and stroking her and resting his hand on her thigh and moving it upwards.

‘Yes, Tom, I did and your presence and your, er, your attention was very, um, comforting. It was a reaction to the attack I have suffered and I was grateful to you for what you did. But let’s get back to Marcie,’ she hastened to change the subject. ‘What happened last night, Tom?’

‘Well, mom, you’d better know what happened between her and Mike first. Take a look at his texts.’ He handed over his phone and his mother read his friend’s detailed account of what he and Marcie had done in her office.

Angela’s eyes popped at the explicit account of how Marcie had dressed and behaved and of what Mike had done to her. This was certainly a different side to her, very different from the Great White Whale she had heard of. There was certainly more to Marcie than she had thought, as she was learning to her cost.

‘Well,’ Angela forced her force to appear calm, ‘your friend certainly has a way with words and graphic detail.’ She pushed her fist into her crotch and gripped tightly with her thighs. She didn’t normally feel randy at breakfast, but Mike’s account, well now she understood how his account of their encounter had had such a powerful effect. ‘So what did you do last night?’ She wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but she had to say something to cover her confusion.

‘We didn’t do anything like that, mom. So don’t go imagining that we did.’ Why did he think she would imagine that sort of thing. It was the furthest from her mind. She buried her fist deeper into her crotch and gripped tighter.

‘So what did you do, Tom, you and Marcie?’

Angela crossed her legs. Tight.

‘Oh we talked a bit and did some exercises. She just wanted to see how quickly I was getting aroused and to experiment with some techniques to see what I responded best to.’

Angela could feel her nipples trying to burst out of her bra. She daren’t not look down to see if they were visible for fear of drawing Tom’s attention to them.

‘I’m going back tonight,’ Tom continued, ‘so that we try out some ideas she thought of during our chat last night. But don’t worry, mom, no one else will know about all this. It’s outside the project.’

If a potent male were passing right now, Angela would mount him on the spot, no question. But the only one around was her son.

‘Tom,’ she said at last, ‘it’s time you got off to school.’

She needed him out of the way, quickly. She needed privacy.

Tom could barely contain his excitement during classes, knowing what awaited him. He caught an occasional glimpse of Marcie during the day, dressed in a blue business suit, high red heels and black stockings. At least, after last night’s visit, he was sure they would be stockings and not pantyhose. It was odd how she seemed to pass a door just as he was leaving or be visible through the window of his class room. It was almost as if she was showing herself, reminding him of what was to come. He was careful to conceal his excitement from his friends and held back when they left saying he had some work to finish on a project. After a while, when he was sure that the school was deserted apart from him and the Principal, he made his way to her office and knocked. When she didn’t answer, he eased the door open to find her sitting behind her desk. She beckoned him in and rose.

‘It’s good to relax after a hard day’s work,’ she told him. ‘I have to look the part of a Principal, but this outfit is stifling.’

With that, she unbutton her jacket and tossed it onto a chair, followed swiftly by her skirt. She stood before Tom in a blue bra and thong, with holdup stockings with lace tops.

‘Well,’ she asked, turning around for Tom to get a 360 degree view, ‘what do you think?’

Tom knew exactly what he was thinking, but he didn’t dare say. That looked just like the outfit that his mother had worn for her meeting with Tom. He knew that because he had found it buried in the laundry basket, but had Mike mentioned it? He couldn’t remember. Surely it had to be a coincidence. Marcie wouldn’t want to pick an outfit that matched his mother’s. All he could do was stare.

As Marcie approached him, he sank to his knees and buried his face in her crotch, his hands on her buttocks pulling her towards him. She smelt sweeter than his mother’s panties had, but then they had been festering in the middle of a basket of dirty washing. Maybe women all smelt different; he’d never thought about that.

Marcie was running her hands through his hair, gently pulling with her fingers.

‘Um,’ she purred, ‘what an interesting reaction.’ She bent to put her hands under his arms and pull him up. ‘Very interesting and perhaps something we should explore later. But first I have an exercise for you, so you need to get your kit off.’

Tom needed no second bidding and swiftly shed his clothes as Marcie explained.

‘You are getting very excited far too quickly. Look at you now; you’re already leaking precum.’ Tom looked down to find a drip hanging from the tip of his cock. ‘We need to delay that response,’ Marcie continued. ‘And one way is to give you something that will distract your mind.’

‘What, you mean like a complicated math problem.’ Tom was keen to show he was following her reasoning.

‘Well, something like that, but not quite. I want you to fuck me, but while you’re doing that I want you to think about your mother. Imagine that she is in my place, that you are fucking her rather than me. When you see me lying down and spreading my thighs for you, opening my pussy for your cock, imagine that it is your mother doing it to you.’

Tom stared. Could she know? No, she couldn’t possibly know. That was impossible.

‘But, but,’ he stammered, ‘that’s wrong, isn’t it, doing that to your mother?’

‘Yes,’ Marcie agreed, ‘it is wrong to do it, but you’re not going to do it, just imagine doing it. And knowing it is wrong, that will put your off for a while, slow down your response and give you control. So shall we get on with it?’

She walked to her desk and perched on the edge.

‘Will you undress me or shall I? Let’s leave the stockings, I like the feel around my thighs. And don’t worry about what you do. Do whatever you like; I’m very broad minded.’

Tom approached tentatively, reaching for her breasts, just as Mike had done she remembered, and stroking them gently before reaching behind her and releasing her bra to let them fall and swing before him. Again he took them in his hands and squeezed exploratively.

‘Remember,’ Marcie whispered in his ear, ‘imagine these are your mother’s tits that you’re groping.’ Her hot breath excited him more than he was already from imagining his mother was allowing him to do this.

His cock was throbbing harder now. He prayed Marcie wouldn’t notice. His hands worked down over her ass, tugging her thong free of her crotch, letting it fall around her ankles, where she flicked it away.

‘Don’t forget to talk to me,’ she advised. ‘Talking can be very erotic. Tell me how you’re feeling. But remember to imagine you’re talking to your mother.’

Tom needed no more encouragement. He opened his mouth and the words tumbled out.

‘You’ve been asking for this, mom,’ he told Marcie as he grabbed her tits and dug his nails into her nipples. She didn’t flinch, just waited for him to continue. ‘You know that. You’ve been tormenting me for year, you and dad. Flaunting yourself all the time. Letting your robe fall open. Pretending not to have time to dress before breakfast. Those flirtatious glances when dad wasn’t looking. The bathroom door left ajar. All that noisy fucking when I was just a few feet away next door. Dad humping and grunting, you bellowing like a buffalo on heat. Leaving your panties around for me to see, for me to smell your cunt and dad’s cum.’

He pushed Marcie roughly back onto her desk and pushed her legs apart. Why couldn’t he hold back, resist for longer so that he could last longer. But he couldn’t, he knew he couldn’t.

‘You want my cock. That’s it, isn’t it. It’s bigger than dad’s and I’m fitter. You need a good hard fuck and I’m the one you want to do it to you. Well, feel how big it is.’ He thrust deep into Marcie in one sweep. Again she showed no reaction. ‘Dad doesn’t force your cunt open like that, does it. It’s what you’ve been waiting for. What you’ve wanted.’

He thrust deep and hard into Marcie, pushing her along the desk until his balls were banging on the edge. He paused, fighting to keep control. He knew it was only a matter of time before he came, minutes if he was lucky, seconds more likely. He wasn’t fucking Marcie, this was his mother under him, with his cock inside her.

‘Did you imagine me lying awake next door listening, wanking off as dad fucked you? Did you imagine me sniffing the crotch of those panties left in the laundry basket, wanking off over them before burying them deep in the pile.’

He tried a few more thrusts, experimentally, just to see how much control he had left. Not much.

‘This is all your fault, mom. You’ve fucked me up completely. Help me, please help me. Oooohhhhhhhh.’

His sperm shot deep into Marcie’s cunt, propelled towards her womb, the power to the ejaculation lifting her off her desk. With a deep sigh, he collapsed on top of her. She put her arms over his shoulders and held him lightly.

At last, as his breathing steadied, he raised his head and looked in her eyes. He knew he had blown it, not just physically, and she knew it. Thinking of his mother hadn’t brought his arousal under control. It had heightened it. He knew it. And Marcie knew it. He had betrayed his feelings for his mother.

And now, when it was too late, his mother’s words came back to him.

Shit. Double shit.

While her son was trying to contain his excitement about his appointment with the Principal later that day, Angela lay on her bed more frightened than she had ever been, more scared even than when Terrell and Wayne had attacked her.

She was frightened for her husband. He had been hit badly by his impotence and more so by his realisation that he was a failure as a man and as a husband. She had no idea how he would react after the argument that had exploded around her during last night, and all because she … Well she was going to say because she had tried to help him. But of course that wasn’t true, it had just been her way of covering up the degradation wrought on her by Terrell and Wayne. She doubted he would kill himself, but she could see him withdrawing from the family, retreating into his own world, and withdrawing from engagement at work, leading to suspension and possible dismissal. And then what? He was too old to start over, especially after an ignominious dismissal from his current position.

She was frightened too for her marriage. She had never wanted to destroy it. It had been a safe haven for her from the day she realised that she wanted to marry John. She had not worked since she fell pregnant and had been provided with every creature comfort that money could buy. She’d get financial support if they divorced, but no way would she be able to maintain the life-style she had at present. And the idea of starting over to find a new partner appalled her. All those horrible dates with someone you knew was wrong for you within minutes. All those well intentioned dinners with friends who knew someone you’d just love to meet. Or just as bad being excluded as being a lone female with no partner or, even worse, one on the lookout to snare someone else’s husband.

And most of all she was frightened for her son. He was in the clutches of the Principal who would use him to attack Angela and would be quite prepared to destroy Tom in order to do so. She couldn’t be sure how she would set about it, but she was sure that that was her ultimate aim and that she was wily enough to take advantage of any chance that came along. And right now Tom was that chance. He didn’t recognise the danger that he was in and that he was putting his mother in. Despite all his qualities, of which his mother was proud, he was still young, inexperienced and naïve. He had walked into a trap and there was nothing his mother could do to help him.

Nor could she overlook herself. She was frightened of what she had become so quickly. Had that been what she was like all along and it had just taken a catalyst to bring it to the surface? Or was this a change that was happening to her, because of age? She had heard of other women developing a sexual appetite as their children grew older or their relationship with their partner settled from the initial intense passion to the humdrum drift into middle age and retirement.

No, her predicament was worse than that. She had a son who had desires for her and whom she had failed to keep at the appropriate maternal distance. She was the one who had set him off when they were chatting on the couch. It had only taken a brush with her hand to achieve that. What might have happened if John hadn’t interrupted, well she didn’t dare to think about that. And letting his hands soothe her as she lay in her bath last night, well that had definitely been a mistake, which he was taking as an invitation. And now she found herself being turned on by his friend’s account of fucking the Principal. She wasn’t into porn, never had been, found it disgusting and distasteful, but Mike’s account was clinical and factual, and she would have masturbated as she read it if her son hadn’t been there. And that was something she never did. Even as a girl she got no enjoyment from rubbing herself in bed at night. A warm feeling, sure, but no real satisfaction. And why would she need to anyway when she had a husband who was ready, willing and able to provide her with what she needed – a good fuck with a hard cock. But no more. Her hands had repeatedly drifted inside her shorts and panties throughout the day. She could smell herself each time her fingers came near her face. But she derived no satisfaction from it, just became more and more frustrated. She even thought of ringing Marcie and asking her to send one of the boys round, but that was dangerous, especially after yesterday. No, she would just have to keep suffering and with no sign of any way out.

She was just about to drown her sorrows in a drink when the phone rang. She picked it up and heard Marcie’s voice. Her tone was stern, but her voice was quavering.

‘Mrs Roberts, I’m not really sure how to break this to you, but I have some serious news about your son, Tom.’

Angela had had more than enough to cope with over the previous couple of days, so she was in no mood to tiptoe around an issue.

‘Just tell me,’ she told Marcie bluntly, ‘it can’t be worse than what has happened already.’

‘I’m afraid it can,’ the Principal replied, ‘your son has just raped me.’

Tom burst into the house just as his mother hung up from hearing the Principal tell her that she had been raped by her son. He flew into her arms and held her. Her comforting arms did nothing to quell the trembling.

‘Tom?’ Her love, dismay, and horror were all conveyed by that single word. ‘Marcie’s saying you raped her. What happened?’

But Tom could barely speak, his voice quavered and he stumbled over his words. Angela led him to the sofa, the same sofa where not so long ago he had cum at the mere flutter of her hand across his cock. She sat beside him and held him close.

‘Tell me, Tom. Just take your time and tell me what happened. I don’t believe you would rape anyone. There’s got to be a misunderstanding.’

And so Tom told her his story.

***

It was like this. We started with a sort of exercise, a kind of distraction technique, getting me to think of er … something else while fucking Marcie. But that didn’t work. I didn’t last for very long so she decided we should try something different. Maybe, she suggested, it would be better if I didn’t see the woman. That way I might not get so aroused. Well, not see the woman at all, that wouldn’t be very easy to arrange, but not see her face. So she turned round and bent over her desk. She didn’t look back at me, just told me to take her.

I wasn’t sure what she wanted. I’m not inexperienced, but I’ve never had a girl or even Mary present herself to me like that. I’ve usually gone on top, although sometimes Mary liked to ride me, which was fun for a change. But I remembered what Mike had said about how she’d reacted when he fingered her ass, so I wasn’t sure if she wanted a cunt fuck or an ass fuck. So I decided to try an experiment. Maybe that was what she wanted. Give me a choice to make, something else to think about, a different sort of distraction.

I started by rubbing my cock between her lips and probing her pussy a bit, which made her purr and push back against me, muttering about me taking my whore. Obviously she didn’t object to that, which came as no surprise, so I move away a explored her crack. She didn’t object, just let me rub my cock up and down. Then I began to linger over her hole, and eventually prodded it a bit, just to see how it was to get in there. She didn’t push back on me like she had before, but she murmured something I couldn’t quite catch. But she hadn’t told me to stop and she hadn’t pulled away, so I thought she liked it.

I found her ass tight, like her muscles were tense, but I’d never done this before so I wasn’t sure what to expect. I mean, some girls have tight cunts to start with until you ease them open a bit. I didn’t make much headway, so I applied more pressure and force my way in. She screamed out NO, NO, but didn’t pull away. Her hands were gripping the edge of her desk. She felt tight but I was able to move in and out and each time I pushed in she cried out again. Then she started wriggling, but she didn’t seem to be trying to escape, and the faster and harder I pumped, the louder she moaned and the more she bucked and twisted.

I’ve never felt so powerful and I was sure that was what she wanted, to give me that feeling of power over her and help me regain control, which I was doing, I felt like I could have fucked her all night. I grabbed her hair and pulled it back, shouting at her that she was my whore and I’d do what I wanted with her just like I’d paid for. She tried to twist round to face me, but I forced her face back and down onto the desk, because that was what she wanted, like she said, I mustn’t see the woman, that was the point of the exercise.

And that made me feel more powerful than ever. I was pumping, she was wriggling and writhing, I was hollering and she was screaming at me to stop. In the end, it was too much and when I came, it felt like it would go on for ever. I just collapsed on her and I could feel her body shaking, so I thought she was cold. I pulled out and went to get my shirt to keep her warm, but when I came back she was sitting in her chair with tears running down her cheeks.

I asked her what was wrong and that … that was when she looked at me coldly and asked how many times I had to be told NO before I would stop.

‘Didn’t you hear me?,’ she kept repeating. ‘Didn’t I scream loud enough? Didn’t you feel me trying to get you off?’ She just kept saying this over and over. Then she stood up and told me straight to my face that I had committed the worst crime a man could commit on a woman: rape.

***

‘Mom,’ Tom sobbed in his mother’s arms, ‘I didn’t know what to do, so I grabbed my things and ran out of her office.’

Angela pulled him to his feet and told him to go to the bathroom and freshen up, but he turned back in the doorway and clung to her. Through her clothes she felt his erection growing as she pulled him to her. She stood still, afraid to trigger him off again. This was just a physical reaction, a response to all the stress. It had nothing to do with his feelings for her.

They couldn’t still be here when John got home. Things were difficult enough with him already. ‘Tom,’ she whispered in his ear, ‘come on, you need to freshen up before your father gets home. I’ll come with you.’

Slowly, side by side, they made their way upstairs.

John’s decision to sleep in his den at least spared Angela having to explain to him why she was tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Her mind was working frantically over how to deal with this latest threat.

She made two decisions early on. One was that Marcie wouldn’t report Tom to the police. No way would she risk what might happen if she did that. The whole project would collapse around her. Her career would be in ruins and there would be embarrassment across the town as the activities of the mothers and the sexual problems of their husbands were exposed. She’s be lucky to escape prosecution herself. Angela doubted whether she would ever learn the truth about what happened. She had heard what Tom had to say, but that didn’t tell her what was really going on. Had he really just misread a situation through inexperience or had she entrapped him by creating a situation and waiting for a chance to make her accusation? Her other decision was not to tell her son, at least not for now. He’d learnt a valuable lesson about consent and ‘no’ meaning, well not always ‘no’ necessarily but certainly something you needed to check out and be sure about.

Another decision came to her quite quickly. Tom had to apologise. Whatever else, he should have been much more careful and showed more respect for Marcie both as his teacher and as a woman. Regardless of the truth of what occurred, his action required an apology and he’d have to give it. Like it or not. However difficult it would be. He had to face her every day, so he had to make his peace, at least find a way of living with what had happened.

But what should Angela do? She had no idea or rather too many ideas. Should she ignore Marcie and see what she did next? Or should she call her bluff by taking her at her word and insisting that Tom himself should go to the police and confess? Or throw herself on her mercy, begging her not to take any action against Tom. Or should she confront her and ask right out what it was that she could do to make amendments, because she was sure Marcie had some motive, and that had to involve some plan for Angela, something that was going to be worse than anything that had happened so far.

By the end of a long night, she had no idea what to do, other than that she had to meet Marcie somewhere private so that they could sort this out. And then she’d just gauge Marcie’s reaction and play it by ear. A course which was as flexible as it was dangerous, especially with someone like Marcie.

Next morning, John crept out without bothering with breakfast or even saying goodbye. Tom was quiet and sheepish, reluctant to leave and even more worried when his mother ordered him to make an appointment with the Principal to make a formal and, she emphasised this, contrite apology. It was the least he could do, she told him, apart from learning the obvious lesson. With him finally gone, she invited Marcie over to discuss what had happened. Half an hour later, Marcie’s car pulled up outside her house.

Angela greeted her with frosty politeness, and Marcie responded in kind, accepting the offer of a cup of coffee with an expression that suggested it might be poisoned. Then Angela began.

‘I’ve heard what Tom has had to say about what happened. Why don’t you tell me now.’

Marcie gave her a crisp account of what took place, which accorded largely with Tom’s version.

‘I felt degraded and humiliated,’ she concluded, ‘to be treated like that by a pupil and someone I was trying to help. It’s not only the pain that I experienced – you may not realise that your son is probably the best endowed of those on the project. It was what his behaviour said about his attitude to me personally. As if a cock up my ass didn’t make it clear enough, he called me a whore and rammed my face into my desk. Mrs Roberts, I can barely face going into my office, just seeing my desk brings back the memory of what I was subjected to with no one else around to summon to help me.’

She wiped away a non-existent tear and took a sip of her coffee.

There were lots in that conclusion that Angela would love to take issue with. Hadn’t Marcie made sure there would be nobody around? Hadn’t she referred to herself as a whore at one point? And why didn’t she object to Mike finger fucking her ass? Was that so very different from what her son had done? But now, she judged, was not the time to get into an argument. Now was the time to develop a rapport with a fellow woman who had been abused. But to do it in a way that didn’t directly accuse Marcie of being responsible.

‘I am sorry that this happened and there was no excuse. I’ve made that clear to my son and I understand that he will be asking to deliver an apology to you in person. I also want you to know that I have been in a similar position myself, so I can empathise with how you are feeling.’ She forced herself to reach out and touch Marcie’s hand. ‘You see, I was subjected to a similar ordeal at the hands of Terrell and Wayne only the other day. You probably haven’t heard about it. It’s not the sort of thing that even that precious pair would brag about.’

Marcie shook her head and looked interested.

‘They came here, into my own home. I admit I invited Terrell, just as you invited Tom.’ She didn’t want that parallel to be missed. ‘But not Wayne. They invaded my home and raped me. Unlike you, I was too terrified to fight back. And the worst of it-‘ She stood up, pulled up her skirt and pushed her panties aside. ‘This is the worst. I had never shaved myself complete, not once in my life, and look what they did to me. They held me down and tore every last hair out.’

Marcie shuddered involuntarily. This had not been part of Terrell’s report. Her hand drifted protectively to her crotch.

‘Mrs Roberts, I am sorry that that happened, I truly am. But I cannot control what my pupils do outside school. You am sure you understand that I must be able to exercise authority over what they do in the school and especially what they do to me. I am entitled to respect. How can I command that or exercise my control over the school if what happened last night gets out?’

Was this it? Was she worried that Tom would tell his friends what he had done. She was quick to reassure Marcie that that would not happen. That was something that Tom totally understood, indeed he had never thought of repeating to anyone anything that took place during his private sessions with Marcie.

‘That,’ Marcie accepted with genuine relief, ‘is a blessing, a small one, but a blessing. And Tom’s apology is necessary, but it is just a state of the reparation that must be paid.’

Angela waited. This, she knew was it, the point of what had took place last night, Marcie’s revenge.

Marcie stood up and put her cup on a table. Looking down at Angela she began to tick off the items on her fingers.

‘First, Tom must obviously change schools as quickly as that can be arranged. I may be able to help with that. Second, you must agree to ensure that he enters therapy in order to understand the proper respect that women are due. I would, naturally, need that assurance in writing for his file. Third, from what I have discovered in the few sessions we shared, he is obviously fixated on you. It is that that is causing his premature ejaculation. I don’t know whether anything has happened between you or whether this is just fantasy on his part, but as his mother you have a responsibility to protect him from the feelings he has. Since you have, at the very least, failed to recognise his unnatural feelings towards you, I am sure that a course of counselling would be beneficial for both of you. I have some names I could recommend.’

Angela dug her nails into her palms, restraining her reaction for as long as she could. She was beginning to understand what this was all about, what was driving Marcie.

‘And that brings me onto the project. You and your son, but especially you, have caused untold damage to the good that was being done. I know from the reports I get back from the mothers, all of whom are naturally experienced both in sexual activity and in child raising that they detect some unhealthy fetishes that some of the boys seem to nurture. Those boys would benefit from someone to work out their problems with and you, Mrs Roberts, would be an ideal person to assist them in doing so. I am sure that you would relish the opportunity to engage in a wide range of exercises to give them experience of what is so far just fantasies.’

Angela rose calmly and faced Marcie. This was all just too much. This was about power, the exercise of power. She had made the mistake of challenging the Principal’s power and control over the project and her pupils, and now she was hell bent on re-establishing her authority in the most vindictive way she could. Well, there was only one way to stand up to bullies and Marcie was no different from Terrell and his friend. She confronted her adversary.

‘You, Principal, are a cold, calculating bitch. You have arranged for me to be raped by that thug Terrell. You’ve trapped my son and wangled personal details out of him that you have misconstrued and used against me. You’ve put him in a position where he was so inexperienced that he didn’t know what you wanted. And now you want to co-opt me into the project for the amusement of the more perverted of the boys. You are a disgrace and not fit to be in charge of a school, let alone this project.’

She didn’t plan what happened next. It came as much as a surprise to her as to Marcie when she delivered her a backhanded slap across her face that sent her spinning across the room towards the sofa. Marcie had barely landed before Angela was on top of her, her thighs astride her chest and her hands pulling at her hair.

‘You are just a sad, frustrated old woman who can’t get a fuck off anyone except one of your pupils. You are the laughing stock of your school with stories of what you look like naked or when you fell of Mike and landed on the floor. Respect,’ she spat, ‘what respect have you got in the school? None. Just a lot of boys sniggering behind your back.’

She pulled hard on Marcie’s hair, shaking her head back and forth, side to side, feeling clumps of hair coming loose.

‘You deserve a good thrashing and that is what you’re going to get.’

Marcie did not respond. She said nothing and made no attempt to fend off Angela’s attack. Angela was so bemused that she had only just time to react to the fist that flew towards her face. She avoided the worst of the punch but caught a glancing blow on the chin that knocked her off balance and toppled her off Marcie and onto the floor.

Marcie’s reaction was swift as she landed on top of Angela knocking the breath out of her. Her hand pushed up Angela’s skirt and under her panties, a broken nail dug into her tender flesh and scratched deep as it worked its way to her pussy. Angela squirmed as the rough edge of the nail scoured across her clit.

‘How dare you talk to me like that,’ Marcie grinned manically as her nail buried itself in Angela’s soft flesh. ‘You’re no better than a whore, flashing yourself at me and wearing those provocative clothes. Is it any wonder your son wants to fuck you. Or has he done it already? Is that it?’

Diverted by her own tirade, Marcie had let her guard down, giving Angela a chance to free her arms and rip open Marcie’s jacket. The buttons flew apart to reveal a low cut push up bra that only just managed to cover her nipples. Marcie released her grip in an attempt to cover herself, giving Angela the chance to toss her off onto her back. ‘Let’s see what the rest of your underwear looks like,’ Angela gasped pushing up the Principal’s skirt to reveal a red lace thong that cut through Marcie’s pubes and deep between her lips.

The two women stared at each other for a moment, but it was Angela who recovered her composure first. ‘You dared to call me a whore. Look at yourself. No self respecting whore would dress like that. What are you doing, getting yourself off with the power you have, imagining the boys fucking each other mothers? Is that your game? Is that how you dressed for my son?’

Angela had not yet learned that it was a mistake to give Marcie any opportunity. She had barely finished shouting before Marcie had kicked herself free and launched herself at Angela’s skirt and blouse, ripping them off to reveal underwear that was more subtle than Marcie’s but just as provocative. Marcie pinned her down and this time did not relent for a second.

‘It seems,’ she told Angela between gasps for air, ‘that we are very much alike. And that seems to be the problem.’

Pressed against the carpet by Marcie’s weight, Angela could not resist as Marcie lowered her face to hers and kissed her passionately on the lips.

Marcie had known that Angela was a tough one. She had the experience with boys to read between the lines of Terrell’s report, enough to know that he wasn’t giving her the full story, which could only mean that things hadn’t gone entirely according to plan. So she wasn’t surprised to hear that he had taken a friend; that was not something that they had discussed or that she had suggested. But she was genuinely shocked to see how the boys had shorn Angela of her pubic hairs. With a complete thatch herself, she understood what impact that had had psychologically on her. For the first time and for just a fraction of a second, she felt sympathy with Angela and her plight.

But that sympathy didn’t last long. She had come with a plan and she wasn’t going to abandon it over a few hairs that would regrow. No, she had the advantage and had to press it home. And for a while she thought, she was sure, that she had Angela just where she wanted her. She seemed to be beaten and willing to accept Marcie’s terms. But she knew her adversary better than to take her submission for granted. So when the attack came, she was prepared mentally for it. what she was not prepared for was the physical assault. That was something she had not expected. As Angela landed on her, the thought flashed into her mind that perhaps her response to Terrell had been physically. But she had other, more important things to worry about,, like regaining the upper hand. Her reaction when it came was physical too and instinctively it focused on Angela’s weakness, the one she had revealed herself, that newly exposed crotch. The fortuitous broken nail provided her with just the weapon she needed.

And the kiss? Well that took her as much by surprise as it did Angela. Never had Marcie had, or even fantasised about, any lesbian contact. Even as a teenager, she hadn’t explored herself sexually with other girls. But the action was instinctive, in a sense it was a recognition of her respect for the strength of her opponent, a strength that most men lacked. Even her husband had not been able to stand up to her physically. But here was a woman, to all intents and purposes at her mercy, who was prepared to resist and to attack.

And once her emotion was released, there was no reason to stop. Both women were in their underwear and Marcie had the advantage of position and weight. But that proved Marcie’s undoing. If she’d been naked, Angela would not have been able to get a grip. As it was, she was able to reach as far as Marcie’s hips and hook her fingers under her thong. She twisted the material and pulled towards her, hoping to dislodge the bigger woman, but Marcie responded by pushing down, forcing the twisted material deep between her labia.

‘Bitch,’ she spat at Angela, as she ground her crotch hard against the thong, ‘fucking bitch. Your son raped me and now you’re going to do the same. You deserved everything you got off Terrell.’

Her breath was coming harder and faster, her tits were rising and falling before Angela’s face. With only her nipples keeping them inside the low plunge bra, it could only be a matter of minutes before they burst out.

‘Your son’s friend as good as raped me too. Did Tom tell you that? Actually finger fucked my ass without even asking while he had me trapped on the desk.’

She pushed and twisted against Angela as she tried to topple her off onto the floor.

‘And then your son raped me on the same desk. Up my ass just like his friend.’

One nipple was barely covered now.

‘What have you got against me, you, your son and his friend? Why do you all want to rape me and humiliate me?’

One breast was free now and Angela could feel the Marcie’s juice seeping out as her crotch rubbed against her.

‘You tricked me into coming here and then assaulted and abused me. This was all a trap. All part of your plot to get me under your control.’

The other breast burst free and joined its companion waving in Angela’s face.

‘Well, go on, do your worst. I can take it. I’ll show you, I’ll show all of you just how strong I am.’

Her hips were bucking now, almost dragging her thong out of Angela’s grip.

‘You’ve got me just where you want me. I can’t escape. Do your worst. Hurt me, fuck me, rape me.’

Her chest was heaving now, sending her tits around and around, as he crotch ground in rhythm against Angela’s thigh. Angela pulled harder on the thong, wanting this over as quickly as possible. Eventually, Marcie’s great body gave a tremendous shudder and she began to growl, long loud howls as her flesh quaked and at last collapsed on Angela.

As her breathing subsided, she pushed herself upright and brushed her hair off her sweat soaked face. The two women stared at each other, neither wanting to put into words what each knew. Marcie had given herself away. Rape, domination and control turned her on. She couldn’t claim that Angela had raped her when she was trapped by Marcie’s weight, not like she could with Mike and Tom. This was all a fantasy for her and one that she willing to bring into real life to control those who opposed her.

She stood up and levered her breasts back into the bra, wiped the slime off her legs with her hand and fumbled into her clothes.

‘So,’ Angela’s sudden words broke the spell, ‘we’ll say no more about what happened between you and Tom shall we?’

It was only a couple of hours after Marcie had left when there was a knock at the door. Angela, who by now had regained her composure, opened it to find a short, chubby boy dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, carrying a bag.

‘Hello, Mrs Roberts, I’m Peter Wilson, but everyone calls me Pete. May I come in, please?’

Angela stepped aside waiting for an explanation, but Pete plunged his hand into his bag and drew out a small bottle.

‘I think the first thing is to get you nice and relaxed. Run yourself a hot bath and put some of this oil into it. Not too much,’ he added seriously, ‘or you’ll fill the bathroom with bubbles.’ He led the way upstairs and Angela followed in amazement that he could just take charge of her so easily. ‘I’ll come in and sponge you when you’re ready, if that’s OK. In the meantime, I’ll set up the bedroom for you.’

Obediently, Angela did as she was told, unsure what to expect. After the past few days, nothing would surprise her. As she lay in the warm bubbles, she wondered who had sent him and why. There could only be one answer. Marcie had sent him as a peace offering.

With the bath full of warm water and topped with a froth of fragrant bubbles, she called out and Pete returned with a soft sponge, which he dipped into the water. Easing Angela so that she was sat upright, he squeezed the water so that it trickled down over her shoulders, washing away the bubbles that clung to her back, then her arms, and finally her breasts. Again and again he repeated the procedure, never touching her, just letting the water caress her body. Then he supported her to stand up and drizzled the warm water over and between her buttocks before finally running it down her belly. She imagined it dripping from her pubic hairs, if only she had any left. All the while, Pete held her eye contact, not staring at her naked body, although she felt sure he now knew every crevice.

As the water began to cool, he reached over for a large, soft towel and held it for her as she stepped out of the bath. Then he patted the towel gently, drying her as he did so. Angela experienced a series of slight shivers as his hands came into contact with her, albeit only through the towel. With her dried, he turned away and brought her a bath robe, letting her slip her arms into it as he held it for her. As before, he led the way and she followed to the bedroom, which she found transformed. The curtains were drawn and all around were candles glowing in the darkness, casting a soft light that seemed to reach into and soothe her soul. On the bedside table was a small tripod with a small lamp that was warming a pan of oil. On the bed was a soft covering to protect the sheets from the oil

Taking her hand, Pete led her to the bed and eased the robe off her shoulders, indicating that she should lie fact down. Every command he gave, for Angela felt as if she was under his control, was by gesture. He had not spoken since he came upstairs. Angela let him take charge, relaxing in the safety of his tenderness and the expectation of pleasures to unfold, but conscious in the back of her mind that this could be a set up for a trap that would be sprung on her, like Terrell’s abuse earlier.

Finally, Pete spoke.

‘Let me know if I go anywhere that’s out of bounds, Mrs Roberts. And let me know too if there is anything that particularly gives you pleasure.’

Angela nodded. She had no boundaries that he could exceed. After what she had experienced so far, she had paradoxically come to welcome the new and unexpected.

The warm oil seeped into her flesh as Pete massaged her shoulders and upper arms. Working slowly and gently. This was not a muscle massage, but rather a sensual massage of her skin and, it began to seem to her, her feelings too.

Then his hands moved around to her back, working down her sides and avoiding her spine, before returning to her shoulders and joining to work on each vertebra one at a time, pressing each with a circling motion.

She waited in anticipation of his arrival at her buttocks, each of which he worked over thoroughly, teasing only gently at her crack, as if wanting to test her willingness to let him explore. Meeting no resistance, he cupped some oil and let it trickle into the crack, which he opened slightly in order to allow the oil free passage across her hole. She realised she was holding her breath in expectation of the eventual arrival of his fingers, which after a while duly followed, smoothing the warm oil skirting around the ass before returning and circling again. only then, did the tip of one small finger work some oil inside before moving away to being the passage down the backs of her thighs.

By now Angela was so warm and relaxed that she let her mind drift not following the course his hands and fingers followed, but just letting her body float on the raft of pleasure he was creating.

When he spoke again, it took her by surprise and he had to repeat when the words.

‘If you'd like to turn over, I can continue down her front. If,’ he added quickly, ‘that is what she would like.’

She had no hesitation in her reply.

‘Oh yes, Pete, I would like that, I would like that very much.’

Pete couldn’t believe his luck when Mrs Roberts just let him in. He’d expected at least some questions about why he was there and who’d sent him. But she must have just assumed that he was part of the project. That precious project that the Principal thought was some big secret, and the boys who thought they were something special. The Principal had never thought to invite Pete to be involved and when he had tried to become involved, the other boys laughed at him, saying he was too short to reach a real woman’s cunt. But there was no secret. The project and those involved in it were the talk of the school. The identities of the parents weren’t, though, at least for the most part. Only a couple were known: that Korean lady who only seemed interested in Terrell and Tom’s mother, who seemed willing to fuck anyone who turned up at her door.

Well, Pete would show the Principal and the other boys. He’d give her the best fuck she ever had. And he knew just how to set about it. It took more than a long cock and a lot of stamina. That was where the others were all going wrong. He knew what it took. His mother was a therapist and she had trained him in relaxation techniques, and then let him into the secret of how to use them to arouse woman, and men for that matter, although Pete wasn’t particularly interested in that. She’d showed him what to do and let him practice on her, before she made him available to a special selection of her clients. Everyone of them had praised him, regardless of his size. One had even said that it should went to show that size didn’t matter. He wished, though, that he were a bit larger, although his mother promised him that this would happen as he matured. It was just a matter of time. By the time he slipped inside Mrs Roberts, she wouldn’t know how big he was and she’d care less.

There was only one problem. The women he’d worked on had all been in their 50s or older, even his mother. Their skin was dry with scars and blemishes and they hadn’t bothered to take care of themselves. Mrs Roberts was different. She obviously did look after her body. It was evenly tanned, and her muscles were well toned. She had wonderful curves. She was perfect. And that was the problem. To give her the full treatment he needed self control. that had not been a problem before, but with Mrs Roberts the urge to mount her when she rolled onto her back was nigh on irresistible. She lay there with her firm tits presented, nipples erect, not at all like his mother’s floppy paps that sagged to the side, and with her legs slightly spread. He struggled to control his breathing, which was essential to create the right atmosphere. He forced himself to concentrate on his technique and hope that would see him through. This was the time to prove himself, not to disgrace himself.

As he dropped some warm oil into his hands and began to massage Angela’s right shoulder he had no idea that she and the Principal had fallen out. He spread the oil over her collar bone and then across her shoulder and down to her biceps. Firm biceps, but he mustn’t linger. Down her arm to her hand and along each finger, stopping at every joint, before returning slowly to her neck. As he dropped more oil into his hands and began to massage Angela’s left shoulder he had no idea that she had no influence with the Principal and that she could not help him achieve his ultimate goal.

With her shoulders finished he came to her breasts. For a few moments, he just waited. He knew where he was going next and do did Angela, but his mother had taught him that holding back for just a few seconds could heighten the tension and expectation, increasing the pleasure of that first moment of contact. How should he play that moment? There were lots of options. Cup the breast from below or form the side. Work down from the top. Begin by circling the nipple or start right on the nipple itself. Pete has stared for so long that he was sure Angela would be waiting in anticipation. She hadn’t opened her eyes, she might even be dozing, but the time for sleep was over. He had come to the stage when he must build her arousal to its peak.

He dropped a single drop of oil on her right nipple and saw her jump, her breast rising and falling in a deep sigh. He worked around the nipple now, his finger tip barely making contact as it worked in ever increasing circles outwards. Angela was breathing faster now and his own breath was keeping pace. Unused to breasts that were firm and whose flesh resisted his touch, rather than sagging and flopping, he lingered longer than normal, before repeating the same routine on her left breast.

Then he set off down her belly. Did he imagine it or was there a sigh of disappointment as he head south? Now he was on the long haul over her hips and down her thighs, thighs as firm as her biceps. She must spend a lot of time in the gym, although she wasn’t obviously muscles like the gym mistress who worked on weights between classes. And finally to the crotch. His ultimate goal.

He was disappointed at the lack of hair. He liked some to set off the pussy. Not too much, like his aunt, whose hairs became matted and unsightly with the oil. But Angela was bald, although he thought he could detect some slight growth. Maybe he could suggest she let them grown and not shave them off. She had certainly shaved – he could see some fading razor scars.

Pussies came in all shapes and sizes he’d discovered. Some were just slits. He didn’t like those. Others had bulges and thick lips. They were better. But Angela’s were his favourite. Those inner lips pushed through with their furls of flesh and curled up and around. He loved exploring those, tracing their track with his finger tips and then working inside, exploring the hidden secrets underneath. Angela enjoyed his ministrations as much as he did. His cock was aching now, eager to penetrate this cunt and feel her heat and moistness. And she was certainly moist, there was so much of her juices on his fingers he barely needed the oil. He looked up to see her face for a moment. Her lips were parted and her tongue was working along her lips.

As he parted her flesh to expose her clitoris, she bit her lower lip and bucked her hips. She was ready, but she would have to wait. He was ready too, but he would have to wait as well. He reached across for some oil.