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GenderBender
Star
- Joined
- May 29, 2017
This is a true fantasy. Don’t worry if you don’t know what I’m talking about, you will by the end. Perhaps.
This takes place in Britain, so if you’re not familiar with our education system, you need to know that pupils who are 16 and want to go to university either stay on at school or move on to a college. I stayed on at school.
Lots of the pupils had crushes on one of the teachers, at one time or another. It must be an occupational hazard for attractive teachers. The headmistress wasn’t one of them. She must have been in her late 40s or early 50s and she was large. No one had fantasies about her, except me. Big tits, big hips, big ass, big thighs, big everything. Most of the boys made jokes about her, but I didn’t. I’ve got nothing against big women, quite the opposite.
This probably goes back to my mother. She was – still is – a large lady. No one would call her attractive, but she was very popular with the guys, which may explain why dad left her in the end. I began to notice when I was in my early teens. Whenever there was a party, there’d be loads of guys coming over for a chat. She didn’t do anything to encourage them, not as far as I could see anyway, and she didn’t touch them while she was chatting, not even a quick touch on their wrist. But come they did, too often for dad’s liking. He must have known how they felt, because he’d felt it too, when they first met. And he felt it right down to the day he left – I barely slept the night before with the noise of their fucking from their room.
But this isn’t about my mum, it’s about, well let’s call her Emily Parsons. I tried not to make it obvious, so that my friends wouldn’t notice it and make fun of me. and I didn’t expect her to notice either, because after all why would she expect one of her pupils to be getting rock hard every time he saw her in a corridor. But I must have been more obvious than I knew. It was in the early January before I went to university and bitterly cold. I was standing plucking up courage to run to the bus stop across from the school entrance, when I realised she was standing next to me.
‘Hi, Jordan.’ That’s not my real name, but it would be the one I’d have chosen for myself.
‘Oh, hi, Miss Parsons.’ I didn’t know what to say. We didn’t get to talk to the headmistress, unless we were in trouble.
We just stood there for what seemed like ages, but was probably only a few seconds, before she spoke again.
‘It can be difficult,’ she began, ‘being your age.’
What could I say? She obviously expected me to agree, so I just nodded.
‘It can be difficult being my age too,’ she continued as if she was talking to herself.
What could I say? She was more than twice my age. How could I possibly know?
‘It’s difficulty being a teacher, more difficult, because there are lots of rules and they are there for a good reason. We have to follow them, however inconvenient they may be.’
I just waited. There was no doubt where this was going – I must have done something wrong and I was about to get reprimanded for it. But to my surprise that wasn’t it at all.
‘I know what you’ve being thinking,’ she said with a finality that suggested I would know what she meant and that I was expected to respond.
‘Thinking?’ I asked innocently, because I had no idea what she meant. ‘Thinking about what, Miss Parson?’
She smiled. She didn’t do that often, but when she did her whole face lit up.
‘Yes, you do. I’ve seen the look on your face and I’m old enough to recognise it.’
‘Sorry,’ I protested, ‘I don’t understand.’
She smiled again.
‘Don’t you? Don’t you really? Well think back to last Tuesday. You were coming out of class, physics it was, and I was coming along the corridor towards you. Do you remember that?’
‘Yes, I think so.’ I tried to make it sound like I wasn’t sure, but I remembered clearly, I remembered every time I saw her nowadays.
‘And the expression on your face changed when you saw me. Don’t you remember?’
Shit, had I made it that obvious? I didn’t dare say anything. I’d have betrayed myself for sure if I’d tried to speak.
She smiled again.
‘Like I told you, Jordan, it can be difficult being my age and being a teacher. Has it never occurred to you that teachers have thoughts, just like you do?’
What was she saying? Was she hinting that she had the same feelings as I did?
‘But there are rules about what teachers can do and about what pupils can do. Thinking is fine, but doing anything about what we’re thinking isn’t. And that is the way it is going to have to be so long as you are at my school.’
With that, she walked off. Was she reprimanding me or warning me off or, perhaps, just perhaps, she was making a promise?
I thought about that conversation a lot over the coming days. Had it been my imagination. The more I thought about the words, the more innocent they were. She’d never said what she thought I was thinking or what thoughts she had or what teachers and pupils weren’t allowed to do. Sometimes, it seemed like it was all my imagination, imagining what I wanted to be true. But other times, when I thought about the whole conversation, no way, that wasn’t innocent, not with that smile. And the clincher was her final remark, ‘so long as you are at my school.’ I just didn’t know. I was sure of one thing, though, I’d know when I left the school, which was only months away, long months of study and final exams.
And when that day came, I promised myself, I would find out.
One thing I noticed was that she seemed to be around a lot more than she used to be. Was it just coincidence that she was walking by when I came out of class or going to her car when I was heading off to catch my bus home? I didn’t bother concealing that I was looking at her and I didn’t care if I gave away how I was feeling, but I couldn’t read her expression. Was she just having fun at my expense, laughing at me and my foolish infatuation?
On my last day, she was there again as I was leaving.
‘Hi, Jordan, good luck at university.’
‘Thank you, Miss Parsons.’
She smiled.
‘I’m not Miss Parsons anymore, Jordan. You’re not one of my pupils now.’
Was she waiting for me to say something? It seemed like she was, but now that the moment had come I was afraid of making a fool of myself.
‘What are your plans for the summer?’ She had given up waiting for me.
‘Eerrr, nothing much. I um-’ Then I dried up.
‘Come on, Jordan, out with it, there’s something you want to say, isn’t there.’
‘It’s just, well, you know, do you remember, in January I think it was, when you spoke to me, well-’ I dried again.
‘You know perfectly well it was January, Jordan. You remember the day, the time, the place, and exactly what we said. Just like I do.’
‘You mean, you were actually telling me-’
‘You know where I live, why don’t you pop round on Saturday if you’re free. Early afternoon would be best.’
Saturday afternoon took an age to come, but I rang her bell as soon as I decently could after lunch. She opened right away, as if she had been standing by the door waiting. She was in her usual slacks and blouse.
‘Hi, Jordan, I’m glad you came. Come in and make yourself comfortable.’ I was already uncomfortable watching her ass move in those slacks as she led the way into her house. ‘Settle down in there,’ she pointed to the living room, ‘while I get us a drink. I’m having a beer, what do you fancy?’
‘A beer, sure, that’ll be fine, just fine, thanks.’
I settled on the sofa, giving her the choice whether to sit next to me. She came back, handed me a cold bottle and dropped onto the opposite end of the sofa. It shook as it took her weight.
‘Cheers,’ she raised her bottle and took a swig. I did the same, while she continued talking. ‘I’m glad you’ve come in shorts, you always looked good in shorts.’
‘You noticed?’
‘Of course, I noticed, the same as you noticed me. Let’s not be coy about it, we’ve been watching each other for over a year now.’
‘I never realised, I mean, I didn’t notice you were watching me. I didn’t know anything until you spoke to me last January and even then I wasn’t sure I’d understood what you were saying.’
‘But you did eventually,’ she grinned. ‘And I bet you’ve been masturbating every chance you could get as you waited for your last day to arrive.’
I’m sure I blushed. Well, how would you feel if your former headmistress was sitting sharing a beer with you and discussing masturbation?
‘Well, no, not exactly, actually no, at first yes, I admit, yes at first, but for the last couple of months I’ve not, not at all. I wanted to wait you see. For today.’
‘That was strong of you. I couldn’t last a couple of months without a wank. Although I must confess I’ve held myself in check this last week, just to give myself a bit of an edge today.’
‘You mean,’ there was a lot here to take in, ‘you’re saying you, er, masturbate?’
‘Of course,’ she gave me another of those grins, ‘doesn’t everyone? My mother is 80 next month, but I’m always buying her new batteries for her vibrator.’
I didn’t know what to say. Did everyone really wank off? I tried to imagine my mother doing it, but no, she wouldn’t need to anyway.
We both sat quietly looking at each for a while as we slowly sipped our beers. Then she broke the silence.
‘So tell me why you want to fuck me, Winston? Why me and not one of those pretty girls at the school?’
That was a tricky question. How could I explain something I didn’t understand myself? I thought about it and then used the trick I’d been taught by our English teacher. ‘If you’re not sure how to start,’ she told us, ‘just start writing and your brain will work it out for you.’ OK, so here goes.
‘It’s difficult to explain, Miss, er, Parsons-’ She interrupted me.
‘No, I’m Emily, Winston, you can’t call me Miss Parsons in bed. That would be ridiculous. Besides, I’m actually Mrs Rogers, but my husband isn’t around any more and I always used by maiden name for teaching. So it’s Emily.’
‘Right, Emily,’ it felt strange, but I’d get used to it I supposed. ‘Right, I don’t really know. I was just attracted by you, by your body. I liked the girls, but you were different. You seemed special to me. I just wanted you. Sorry, this sounds pathetic.’ I ground to a halt.
‘Don’t worry. That’s a good answer. Some things can’t be analysed. I couldn’t explain why I noticed you any better. It’s like a magnetism that draws people together. Tell me, are you a virgin?’
I’d been expecting this topic to come up, and I had my answer off pat.
‘No, no, I’ve done it a few times, but I always felt there was something missing. It was pleasant, very pleasant, but I knew there was more.’
Emily was nodding.
‘Yes, yes, and what was that something? Was it something you sensed? Like your attraction for me?’
It was my turn to nod. I hadn’t prepared the next bit, but the beer was loosening my inhibitions.
‘It wasn’t real sex, sex like my mom has. Loud noisy smelly sex.’
‘How do you know it’s smelly?’
‘Because I’ve been in her room afterwards and it stank.’
‘Of what, Winston, what did it smell of?’
‘Cum, like when I’ve cum and its dried. And sweat, stale sweat. And mum’s juices, like her panties smell in the wash basket.’
‘So,’ there was a twinkle in her eye, ‘you’ve been sniffing them, have you?’
I nodded sheepishly.
‘Anything more?’ she prompted.
‘Yes.’ I wasn’t sure about this next bit, but I’d try it out and see how she reacted. ‘It’s something I heard her say to dad once. She told him that if he had the strength to get off the bed, he hadn’t been fucking her hard enough. I’ve never felt like that, never, not yet anyway,’ I added hopefully.
‘I like that attitude,’ Emily was getting up. ‘Let’s go upstairs and get started, it’s a pity to waste time.’
She carried on talking as I followed her upstairs.
‘It’s always a little strange the first time, so it’s only natural to be a bit nervous.’ She stopped and turned, her tits in my face. ‘The first time with a new lover, I mean. I always feel it and I’m feeling it now, I expect you are too. Don’t let it worry you,’ she turned and climbed the final steps, ‘it’s just natural.’
Was she just trying to reassure me? Did she think I was still a virgin? I didn’t know and I didn’t care. Her comments just made me feel protective of her.
‘How long has it been, for you, since the last lover?’ I asked as she pulled her blouse free of her slacks and unbuttoned it. She peeled it off her shoulders and tossed it onto a chair, making no attempt to be seductive or prolong the pleasure I was getting at seeing expose her body.
‘Just over eighteen months,’ she told me as she unfastened her slacks and pushed them over her hips. ‘Just around the time I first noticed you, as it happens, not that the two are connected, excepted by fate,’ she concluded as she kicked the slacks away.
I stood staring, taking in the sight. Her flesh wasn’t pale like I’d expected. She couldn’t have been on holiday or got her tan sitting out in the pathetic sun we’d had that year, so she must have used a lamp or gone to a salon. And her flesh was firmer than I’d expected too. The underwear wasn’t what I had anticipated either. It was light blue, to match her blouse and slacks, but not the reinforced practical stuff I’d been expecting. Instead, it was fairly skimpy, lace, the bra barely covering her nipples, and her thong just wide enough to cover the crotch, but not wide enough to cover the strip of pubes.
‘Well,’ she said after a while, ‘I take it you like what you see. Now, get your kit off and show me what you have to offer.’
She’d shown me what was expected. Just take my clothes off in a business like way and get down to the business in hand. I don’t know why I’d been hesitating, maybe I just wanted to savour the moment, that first sight of her body. Or maybe it was like she said, we’re all naturally a bit nervous that first time, the first time with a new lover. Or maybe it was the thought that I was one in a line of lovers, who would be compared with them, measured against them. Not that I had any concerns about what I had to show her. My body was paler than hers, but toned and, how can I put it, I’d got nothing to be ashamed of. I’d compared myself, discretely of course, with the other guys as we changed after sport or gym. We all did, although no one would admit it.
She didn’t hurry me. She just waited patiently, letting me get a good long look at her body. And then, all in a rush that betrayed the nervousness I was trying to conceal, I pulled by T-shirt over my head and tossed it aside with a flourish. She grinned as I pushed down my shorts, kicked them aside and stood naked before her. I wasn’t hard yet, not fully, just swaying from side to side, steadily rising to the occasion.
I needn’t have worried about which of us would take the lead. Immediately I was naked, she moved in, spreading her thighs and squatting before me, taking hold of my cock at the base and bending her head until she could suck me. The warmth of her saliva and the sureness of her touch made me stiffen. When I looked down, her eyes were watching my face as her head bobbed back and forth, taking a little more of me into her mouth each time, taking me deeper as my cock grew longer. My breathing was coming fast, I hadn’t expected this intensity so soon and was regretting not getting myself off for so long. Faster now, faster and each time deeper. ‘No,’ I moaned, ‘please, no, not yet, Emily, please, give me a chance’ but she didn’t stop. Her hands were off my cock now, behind my thighs, pulling me closer to her face. I felt the tip of my cock clasped by her throat, the base of her tongue pressing against it, tight, constricting, working on me. Her hands now on my buttocks, kneading them in time with her clenching of my cock. It was seconds away, I couldn’t have stopped even if I wanted, my knees were beginning to buckle. And then I blew.
‘Fuck, no, oh wow, no, argh, fuck, fuck, stop, please stop.’
At last my cock stopped pulsing and she pulled her head back, licking the drips of my tip and then drying my shaft with her tongue.
She rose before me and pushed me gently back onto the bed.
‘Take a rest, lover, and while you recover you can work on me.’
By the time I looked up, her thong was off and she was climbing astride me, moving up my body until her crotch was over my face. I was in virgin territory now. I’d never eaten a girl and this wasn’t the time to admit that to her. She didn’t give me time to anyway.
‘This won’t take long,’ she warned me, ‘remember I’m as much on edge as you were.’
I had only one thought in my mind as she lowered her pussy down on my face. Don’t screw up, please don’t let me screw up. The last thing I wanted to do was show the truth, that I was an inexperienced kid who didn’t know what to do. So back to that teacher’s advice. Just dive right in. No hesitation. Just go for it and hope our brain will keep up.
So that’s what I did. As those plump lips and dangling labia sank down on me, I opened by mouth, pushed my chin up and took a bite, real hard, pulling and chewing, not sure of what I’d got hold of or what to do. I just tucked in like it was a juicy steak. I couldn’t have anticipated the reaction. It was more extreme than even one of those videos on a porn channel.
‘Oh fuck, no, wait, no Jordan, oh my God, shit and fuck, please, oh yes, harder, give me a chance, please give me, no, more, what are, arhhhhhh.’
And as she cursed and swore, she ground down harder onto my mouth. I struggled to breath, hoping that if I worked on her hard enough, she’s finish before I suffocated. Suddenly, she slumped forward, her belly pressing against my face, her pubes scratching my nose, and her whole body shook until, with a final shudder, she became still.
I tried to move her, but she was too heavy, so I wriggled my head to the side and gulped in a lungful of air. We lay like that for a while, until she rolled off and I crawled up the bed beside. I wiped my face on the back of my hand and pulled myself up to kiss her. Our first kiss.
‘Well,’ she said at last, savouring the taste of her cunt on her lips, ‘well, Jordan, I wasn’t expecting that. You deserve to see my titties as a reward.’ This time, she wasn’t business like at all. Sitting up on her haunches, she reached behind her, unfastened her bra and let it slide off her shoulders slowly releasing her breasts as gravity took control, leaving the thin material hanging from her nipples until, with a quick shake, it was free. Instinctively, I took a nipple in my mouth and sucked, while my hand pulled and played with the other. She lay back, stroking her hands through my hair, purring quietly. When I moved over to her other nipple, she began scratching at my back with her nails.
‘Are you ready to go again, lover?’
It was barely a whisper, but so intense that I knew she was desperate for a full fuck. I didn’t dare say that I wasn’t sure. I’d been drained by her deepthroat and completely distracted by eating her out. How long had it been since I’d cum? No idea. Didn’t know, didn’t care.
I’m not sure whether I climbed between her thighs or she pulled me, probably a bit of both, whatever, somehow I found myself there with her hand guiding my cock. I could feel that I wasn’t completely hard, but her cunt was sopping wet and I slipped in.
‘Take it slowly,’ she instructed, ‘just until your girder is strong, then let rip, pump the fucker.’
I did as I was told, slowly gliding in and out until I felt myself hard enough, but even then I’d let myself go. I held myself poised, sensing the power pulsing through her cunt, feeling the power of having her under my control. at least, that how I kidded myself. It felt like I was sitting astride a power motorcycle, feeling the power to the engine throbbing through my legs. She didn’t chide me; it was like she understood what I was feeling. Then, finally, I did as she had told me. I just let rip. In and out, faster and faster, no attempt to prolong our pleasure, just a frantic headlong dash to climax. My arms ached as they supported me over her, watching her body shake and wobble, her tits flying from side to side, the bed groaning under the strain. Her expression was intense, like she must have looked when she was masturbating, as if she was unaware that this time she wasn’t alone, that I was there, humping away.
Then her eyes fixed on mine, like she was surprised to find me there, and she began bucking, rising to meet my stroke, crashing into me, almost throwing me off. Her cunt was so wet, I could feel her juices flooding out over my balls. And, as I struggled to stay on-board if not in control, a low soft moan began. I tried to speak, to call out to her, to tell her what I was experiencing, but I had neither the breath nor the words. All that came out was a rasping sound. And all the while her moan was getting deeper and louder, drowning out the squelching of our fucking. Her body seemed to quake with the rhythm as it now became a howl.
‘Don’t cum, you little bastard, don’t you dare cum on me yet, not yet.’
Her hips were grinding now, she was in control, I was being tossed on her wave, riding along with her. Still the instructions came, gasped out in bursts.
‘Keep - control – I’ll tear your - fucking balls - off – if I don’t get – me off.’
Her hands were clutching at the bedding now, her head rolling, her eyes closed, her face red. Her howl had become a bellow.
‘NOW’ burst out. ‘NOW NOW NOW HARDER QUICK COME ON QUICK’
My hips were pumping furiously, my back straining. Suddenly, her hips wrapped round me pulling me tight against her and the muscles of her cunt clamped me tight.
‘Cum,’ she shouted, ‘cum, now.’
I struggled to cum at her command, wondering if it was too soon after her deepthroating. But I managed to force it out and, when the moment finally came, it felt like my cock was lifting her off the bed and she was sailing through the air to meet me.
I collapsed on top of her and she released her legs, but kept a tight grip on my cock until I became to soft to retain inside her.
‘So, Jordan,’ she asked eventually, ‘do you feel strong enough to get off the bed.’
I shook my head.
‘Well, lie back, and I’ll crawl downstairs to get us another beer.’
I thought she had been teasing me, but she climbed off the bed with some difficulty and walked slowly and unsteadily out of the room.
As we sat sipping our beers, propped against the pillows, she leaned across and kissed me. Our second kiss.
‘I’ve been waiting for that for 18 months,’ she confided. ‘Shit that was good.’
I wanted to fuck again, although I knew I’d to rest up before I could manage it. But back in practical mode she said no. ‘We’ll both be too sore to fuck tomorrow if we do.’
Tomorrow, yes, that was another day, and every tomorrow was another day until the end of the summer when I went to university.
This takes place in Britain, so if you’re not familiar with our education system, you need to know that pupils who are 16 and want to go to university either stay on at school or move on to a college. I stayed on at school.
Lots of the pupils had crushes on one of the teachers, at one time or another. It must be an occupational hazard for attractive teachers. The headmistress wasn’t one of them. She must have been in her late 40s or early 50s and she was large. No one had fantasies about her, except me. Big tits, big hips, big ass, big thighs, big everything. Most of the boys made jokes about her, but I didn’t. I’ve got nothing against big women, quite the opposite.
This probably goes back to my mother. She was – still is – a large lady. No one would call her attractive, but she was very popular with the guys, which may explain why dad left her in the end. I began to notice when I was in my early teens. Whenever there was a party, there’d be loads of guys coming over for a chat. She didn’t do anything to encourage them, not as far as I could see anyway, and she didn’t touch them while she was chatting, not even a quick touch on their wrist. But come they did, too often for dad’s liking. He must have known how they felt, because he’d felt it too, when they first met. And he felt it right down to the day he left – I barely slept the night before with the noise of their fucking from their room.
But this isn’t about my mum, it’s about, well let’s call her Emily Parsons. I tried not to make it obvious, so that my friends wouldn’t notice it and make fun of me. and I didn’t expect her to notice either, because after all why would she expect one of her pupils to be getting rock hard every time he saw her in a corridor. But I must have been more obvious than I knew. It was in the early January before I went to university and bitterly cold. I was standing plucking up courage to run to the bus stop across from the school entrance, when I realised she was standing next to me.
‘Hi, Jordan.’ That’s not my real name, but it would be the one I’d have chosen for myself.
‘Oh, hi, Miss Parsons.’ I didn’t know what to say. We didn’t get to talk to the headmistress, unless we were in trouble.
We just stood there for what seemed like ages, but was probably only a few seconds, before she spoke again.
‘It can be difficult,’ she began, ‘being your age.’
What could I say? She obviously expected me to agree, so I just nodded.
‘It can be difficult being my age too,’ she continued as if she was talking to herself.
What could I say? She was more than twice my age. How could I possibly know?
‘It’s difficulty being a teacher, more difficult, because there are lots of rules and they are there for a good reason. We have to follow them, however inconvenient they may be.’
I just waited. There was no doubt where this was going – I must have done something wrong and I was about to get reprimanded for it. But to my surprise that wasn’t it at all.
‘I know what you’ve being thinking,’ she said with a finality that suggested I would know what she meant and that I was expected to respond.
‘Thinking?’ I asked innocently, because I had no idea what she meant. ‘Thinking about what, Miss Parson?’
She smiled. She didn’t do that often, but when she did her whole face lit up.
‘Yes, you do. I’ve seen the look on your face and I’m old enough to recognise it.’
‘Sorry,’ I protested, ‘I don’t understand.’
She smiled again.
‘Don’t you? Don’t you really? Well think back to last Tuesday. You were coming out of class, physics it was, and I was coming along the corridor towards you. Do you remember that?’
‘Yes, I think so.’ I tried to make it sound like I wasn’t sure, but I remembered clearly, I remembered every time I saw her nowadays.
‘And the expression on your face changed when you saw me. Don’t you remember?’
Shit, had I made it that obvious? I didn’t dare say anything. I’d have betrayed myself for sure if I’d tried to speak.
She smiled again.
‘Like I told you, Jordan, it can be difficult being my age and being a teacher. Has it never occurred to you that teachers have thoughts, just like you do?’
What was she saying? Was she hinting that she had the same feelings as I did?
‘But there are rules about what teachers can do and about what pupils can do. Thinking is fine, but doing anything about what we’re thinking isn’t. And that is the way it is going to have to be so long as you are at my school.’
With that, she walked off. Was she reprimanding me or warning me off or, perhaps, just perhaps, she was making a promise?
I thought about that conversation a lot over the coming days. Had it been my imagination. The more I thought about the words, the more innocent they were. She’d never said what she thought I was thinking or what thoughts she had or what teachers and pupils weren’t allowed to do. Sometimes, it seemed like it was all my imagination, imagining what I wanted to be true. But other times, when I thought about the whole conversation, no way, that wasn’t innocent, not with that smile. And the clincher was her final remark, ‘so long as you are at my school.’ I just didn’t know. I was sure of one thing, though, I’d know when I left the school, which was only months away, long months of study and final exams.
And when that day came, I promised myself, I would find out.
One thing I noticed was that she seemed to be around a lot more than she used to be. Was it just coincidence that she was walking by when I came out of class or going to her car when I was heading off to catch my bus home? I didn’t bother concealing that I was looking at her and I didn’t care if I gave away how I was feeling, but I couldn’t read her expression. Was she just having fun at my expense, laughing at me and my foolish infatuation?
On my last day, she was there again as I was leaving.
‘Hi, Jordan, good luck at university.’
‘Thank you, Miss Parsons.’
She smiled.
‘I’m not Miss Parsons anymore, Jordan. You’re not one of my pupils now.’
Was she waiting for me to say something? It seemed like she was, but now that the moment had come I was afraid of making a fool of myself.
‘What are your plans for the summer?’ She had given up waiting for me.
‘Eerrr, nothing much. I um-’ Then I dried up.
‘Come on, Jordan, out with it, there’s something you want to say, isn’t there.’
‘It’s just, well, you know, do you remember, in January I think it was, when you spoke to me, well-’ I dried again.
‘You know perfectly well it was January, Jordan. You remember the day, the time, the place, and exactly what we said. Just like I do.’
‘You mean, you were actually telling me-’
‘You know where I live, why don’t you pop round on Saturday if you’re free. Early afternoon would be best.’
Saturday afternoon took an age to come, but I rang her bell as soon as I decently could after lunch. She opened right away, as if she had been standing by the door waiting. She was in her usual slacks and blouse.
‘Hi, Jordan, I’m glad you came. Come in and make yourself comfortable.’ I was already uncomfortable watching her ass move in those slacks as she led the way into her house. ‘Settle down in there,’ she pointed to the living room, ‘while I get us a drink. I’m having a beer, what do you fancy?’
‘A beer, sure, that’ll be fine, just fine, thanks.’
I settled on the sofa, giving her the choice whether to sit next to me. She came back, handed me a cold bottle and dropped onto the opposite end of the sofa. It shook as it took her weight.
‘Cheers,’ she raised her bottle and took a swig. I did the same, while she continued talking. ‘I’m glad you’ve come in shorts, you always looked good in shorts.’
‘You noticed?’
‘Of course, I noticed, the same as you noticed me. Let’s not be coy about it, we’ve been watching each other for over a year now.’
‘I never realised, I mean, I didn’t notice you were watching me. I didn’t know anything until you spoke to me last January and even then I wasn’t sure I’d understood what you were saying.’
‘But you did eventually,’ she grinned. ‘And I bet you’ve been masturbating every chance you could get as you waited for your last day to arrive.’
I’m sure I blushed. Well, how would you feel if your former headmistress was sitting sharing a beer with you and discussing masturbation?
‘Well, no, not exactly, actually no, at first yes, I admit, yes at first, but for the last couple of months I’ve not, not at all. I wanted to wait you see. For today.’
‘That was strong of you. I couldn’t last a couple of months without a wank. Although I must confess I’ve held myself in check this last week, just to give myself a bit of an edge today.’
‘You mean,’ there was a lot here to take in, ‘you’re saying you, er, masturbate?’
‘Of course,’ she gave me another of those grins, ‘doesn’t everyone? My mother is 80 next month, but I’m always buying her new batteries for her vibrator.’
I didn’t know what to say. Did everyone really wank off? I tried to imagine my mother doing it, but no, she wouldn’t need to anyway.
We both sat quietly looking at each for a while as we slowly sipped our beers. Then she broke the silence.
‘So tell me why you want to fuck me, Winston? Why me and not one of those pretty girls at the school?’
That was a tricky question. How could I explain something I didn’t understand myself? I thought about it and then used the trick I’d been taught by our English teacher. ‘If you’re not sure how to start,’ she told us, ‘just start writing and your brain will work it out for you.’ OK, so here goes.
‘It’s difficult to explain, Miss, er, Parsons-’ She interrupted me.
‘No, I’m Emily, Winston, you can’t call me Miss Parsons in bed. That would be ridiculous. Besides, I’m actually Mrs Rogers, but my husband isn’t around any more and I always used by maiden name for teaching. So it’s Emily.’
‘Right, Emily,’ it felt strange, but I’d get used to it I supposed. ‘Right, I don’t really know. I was just attracted by you, by your body. I liked the girls, but you were different. You seemed special to me. I just wanted you. Sorry, this sounds pathetic.’ I ground to a halt.
‘Don’t worry. That’s a good answer. Some things can’t be analysed. I couldn’t explain why I noticed you any better. It’s like a magnetism that draws people together. Tell me, are you a virgin?’
I’d been expecting this topic to come up, and I had my answer off pat.
‘No, no, I’ve done it a few times, but I always felt there was something missing. It was pleasant, very pleasant, but I knew there was more.’
Emily was nodding.
‘Yes, yes, and what was that something? Was it something you sensed? Like your attraction for me?’
It was my turn to nod. I hadn’t prepared the next bit, but the beer was loosening my inhibitions.
‘It wasn’t real sex, sex like my mom has. Loud noisy smelly sex.’
‘How do you know it’s smelly?’
‘Because I’ve been in her room afterwards and it stank.’
‘Of what, Winston, what did it smell of?’
‘Cum, like when I’ve cum and its dried. And sweat, stale sweat. And mum’s juices, like her panties smell in the wash basket.’
‘So,’ there was a twinkle in her eye, ‘you’ve been sniffing them, have you?’
I nodded sheepishly.
‘Anything more?’ she prompted.
‘Yes.’ I wasn’t sure about this next bit, but I’d try it out and see how she reacted. ‘It’s something I heard her say to dad once. She told him that if he had the strength to get off the bed, he hadn’t been fucking her hard enough. I’ve never felt like that, never, not yet anyway,’ I added hopefully.
‘I like that attitude,’ Emily was getting up. ‘Let’s go upstairs and get started, it’s a pity to waste time.’
She carried on talking as I followed her upstairs.
‘It’s always a little strange the first time, so it’s only natural to be a bit nervous.’ She stopped and turned, her tits in my face. ‘The first time with a new lover, I mean. I always feel it and I’m feeling it now, I expect you are too. Don’t let it worry you,’ she turned and climbed the final steps, ‘it’s just natural.’
Was she just trying to reassure me? Did she think I was still a virgin? I didn’t know and I didn’t care. Her comments just made me feel protective of her.
‘How long has it been, for you, since the last lover?’ I asked as she pulled her blouse free of her slacks and unbuttoned it. She peeled it off her shoulders and tossed it onto a chair, making no attempt to be seductive or prolong the pleasure I was getting at seeing expose her body.
‘Just over eighteen months,’ she told me as she unfastened her slacks and pushed them over her hips. ‘Just around the time I first noticed you, as it happens, not that the two are connected, excepted by fate,’ she concluded as she kicked the slacks away.
I stood staring, taking in the sight. Her flesh wasn’t pale like I’d expected. She couldn’t have been on holiday or got her tan sitting out in the pathetic sun we’d had that year, so she must have used a lamp or gone to a salon. And her flesh was firmer than I’d expected too. The underwear wasn’t what I had anticipated either. It was light blue, to match her blouse and slacks, but not the reinforced practical stuff I’d been expecting. Instead, it was fairly skimpy, lace, the bra barely covering her nipples, and her thong just wide enough to cover the crotch, but not wide enough to cover the strip of pubes.
‘Well,’ she said after a while, ‘I take it you like what you see. Now, get your kit off and show me what you have to offer.’
She’d shown me what was expected. Just take my clothes off in a business like way and get down to the business in hand. I don’t know why I’d been hesitating, maybe I just wanted to savour the moment, that first sight of her body. Or maybe it was like she said, we’re all naturally a bit nervous that first time, the first time with a new lover. Or maybe it was the thought that I was one in a line of lovers, who would be compared with them, measured against them. Not that I had any concerns about what I had to show her. My body was paler than hers, but toned and, how can I put it, I’d got nothing to be ashamed of. I’d compared myself, discretely of course, with the other guys as we changed after sport or gym. We all did, although no one would admit it.
She didn’t hurry me. She just waited patiently, letting me get a good long look at her body. And then, all in a rush that betrayed the nervousness I was trying to conceal, I pulled by T-shirt over my head and tossed it aside with a flourish. She grinned as I pushed down my shorts, kicked them aside and stood naked before her. I wasn’t hard yet, not fully, just swaying from side to side, steadily rising to the occasion.
I needn’t have worried about which of us would take the lead. Immediately I was naked, she moved in, spreading her thighs and squatting before me, taking hold of my cock at the base and bending her head until she could suck me. The warmth of her saliva and the sureness of her touch made me stiffen. When I looked down, her eyes were watching my face as her head bobbed back and forth, taking a little more of me into her mouth each time, taking me deeper as my cock grew longer. My breathing was coming fast, I hadn’t expected this intensity so soon and was regretting not getting myself off for so long. Faster now, faster and each time deeper. ‘No,’ I moaned, ‘please, no, not yet, Emily, please, give me a chance’ but she didn’t stop. Her hands were off my cock now, behind my thighs, pulling me closer to her face. I felt the tip of my cock clasped by her throat, the base of her tongue pressing against it, tight, constricting, working on me. Her hands now on my buttocks, kneading them in time with her clenching of my cock. It was seconds away, I couldn’t have stopped even if I wanted, my knees were beginning to buckle. And then I blew.
‘Fuck, no, oh wow, no, argh, fuck, fuck, stop, please stop.’
At last my cock stopped pulsing and she pulled her head back, licking the drips of my tip and then drying my shaft with her tongue.
She rose before me and pushed me gently back onto the bed.
‘Take a rest, lover, and while you recover you can work on me.’
By the time I looked up, her thong was off and she was climbing astride me, moving up my body until her crotch was over my face. I was in virgin territory now. I’d never eaten a girl and this wasn’t the time to admit that to her. She didn’t give me time to anyway.
‘This won’t take long,’ she warned me, ‘remember I’m as much on edge as you were.’
I had only one thought in my mind as she lowered her pussy down on my face. Don’t screw up, please don’t let me screw up. The last thing I wanted to do was show the truth, that I was an inexperienced kid who didn’t know what to do. So back to that teacher’s advice. Just dive right in. No hesitation. Just go for it and hope our brain will keep up.
So that’s what I did. As those plump lips and dangling labia sank down on me, I opened by mouth, pushed my chin up and took a bite, real hard, pulling and chewing, not sure of what I’d got hold of or what to do. I just tucked in like it was a juicy steak. I couldn’t have anticipated the reaction. It was more extreme than even one of those videos on a porn channel.
‘Oh fuck, no, wait, no Jordan, oh my God, shit and fuck, please, oh yes, harder, give me a chance, please give me, no, more, what are, arhhhhhh.’
And as she cursed and swore, she ground down harder onto my mouth. I struggled to breath, hoping that if I worked on her hard enough, she’s finish before I suffocated. Suddenly, she slumped forward, her belly pressing against my face, her pubes scratching my nose, and her whole body shook until, with a final shudder, she became still.
I tried to move her, but she was too heavy, so I wriggled my head to the side and gulped in a lungful of air. We lay like that for a while, until she rolled off and I crawled up the bed beside. I wiped my face on the back of my hand and pulled myself up to kiss her. Our first kiss.
‘Well,’ she said at last, savouring the taste of her cunt on her lips, ‘well, Jordan, I wasn’t expecting that. You deserve to see my titties as a reward.’ This time, she wasn’t business like at all. Sitting up on her haunches, she reached behind her, unfastened her bra and let it slide off her shoulders slowly releasing her breasts as gravity took control, leaving the thin material hanging from her nipples until, with a quick shake, it was free. Instinctively, I took a nipple in my mouth and sucked, while my hand pulled and played with the other. She lay back, stroking her hands through my hair, purring quietly. When I moved over to her other nipple, she began scratching at my back with her nails.
‘Are you ready to go again, lover?’
It was barely a whisper, but so intense that I knew she was desperate for a full fuck. I didn’t dare say that I wasn’t sure. I’d been drained by her deepthroat and completely distracted by eating her out. How long had it been since I’d cum? No idea. Didn’t know, didn’t care.
I’m not sure whether I climbed between her thighs or she pulled me, probably a bit of both, whatever, somehow I found myself there with her hand guiding my cock. I could feel that I wasn’t completely hard, but her cunt was sopping wet and I slipped in.
‘Take it slowly,’ she instructed, ‘just until your girder is strong, then let rip, pump the fucker.’
I did as I was told, slowly gliding in and out until I felt myself hard enough, but even then I’d let myself go. I held myself poised, sensing the power pulsing through her cunt, feeling the power of having her under my control. at least, that how I kidded myself. It felt like I was sitting astride a power motorcycle, feeling the power to the engine throbbing through my legs. She didn’t chide me; it was like she understood what I was feeling. Then, finally, I did as she had told me. I just let rip. In and out, faster and faster, no attempt to prolong our pleasure, just a frantic headlong dash to climax. My arms ached as they supported me over her, watching her body shake and wobble, her tits flying from side to side, the bed groaning under the strain. Her expression was intense, like she must have looked when she was masturbating, as if she was unaware that this time she wasn’t alone, that I was there, humping away.
Then her eyes fixed on mine, like she was surprised to find me there, and she began bucking, rising to meet my stroke, crashing into me, almost throwing me off. Her cunt was so wet, I could feel her juices flooding out over my balls. And, as I struggled to stay on-board if not in control, a low soft moan began. I tried to speak, to call out to her, to tell her what I was experiencing, but I had neither the breath nor the words. All that came out was a rasping sound. And all the while her moan was getting deeper and louder, drowning out the squelching of our fucking. Her body seemed to quake with the rhythm as it now became a howl.
‘Don’t cum, you little bastard, don’t you dare cum on me yet, not yet.’
Her hips were grinding now, she was in control, I was being tossed on her wave, riding along with her. Still the instructions came, gasped out in bursts.
‘Keep - control – I’ll tear your - fucking balls - off – if I don’t get – me off.’
Her hands were clutching at the bedding now, her head rolling, her eyes closed, her face red. Her howl had become a bellow.
‘NOW’ burst out. ‘NOW NOW NOW HARDER QUICK COME ON QUICK’
My hips were pumping furiously, my back straining. Suddenly, her hips wrapped round me pulling me tight against her and the muscles of her cunt clamped me tight.
‘Cum,’ she shouted, ‘cum, now.’
I struggled to cum at her command, wondering if it was too soon after her deepthroating. But I managed to force it out and, when the moment finally came, it felt like my cock was lifting her off the bed and she was sailing through the air to meet me.
I collapsed on top of her and she released her legs, but kept a tight grip on my cock until I became to soft to retain inside her.
‘So, Jordan,’ she asked eventually, ‘do you feel strong enough to get off the bed.’
I shook my head.
‘Well, lie back, and I’ll crawl downstairs to get us another beer.’
I thought she had been teasing me, but she climbed off the bed with some difficulty and walked slowly and unsteadily out of the room.
As we sat sipping our beers, propped against the pillows, she leaned across and kissed me. Our second kiss.
‘I’ve been waiting for that for 18 months,’ she confided. ‘Shit that was good.’
I wanted to fuck again, although I knew I’d to rest up before I could manage it. But back in practical mode she said no. ‘We’ll both be too sore to fuck tomorrow if we do.’
Tomorrow, yes, that was another day, and every tomorrow was another day until the end of the summer when I went to university.