After Laura

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After my “almost” sex with Laura, the forty-year-old housewife, I was ready to actually do the deed. Unfortunately, I didn’t have many options. My girlfriend was out of the question, mainly because we had argued about having sex and we weren’t going together anymore. I really didn’t know many more women– I hadn’t yet been alone with Laura again, and I had no idea, even if I had had the money, how to get a hooker.

Things were pretty grim for me sexually, but otherwise they were pretty good. I was just 10 days away from the end of school– I mean THE END, of high school anyway. I had a summer job lined up working as a groundskeeper at the local park, and I had been accepted to two differnt universities. I was sitting in one of my last English classes when the teacher, Miss O’Brien, handed me an envelope. She gave envelopes to few other students, and then the bell rang, so we all trooped out of the room, opening the envelopes as we went.

A word about Miss O’Brien. She was the most hated teacher in the school, and rightly so. She was an alcoholic. We knew that because she often came to school on Monday mornings very hung over and she often came back from lunch smelling like some kind of liquor. She was — well, erratic is the kind word for it. Some days she was treacly sweet and sometimes she would shake with anger over a small error. I once had to take a paper to the principal and show him that she had given me a 79 on a it with just two small comma errors. She had a slim rather nice looking body, but you couldn’t tell how old she was because she wore so much make-up, often smudged or put on without much care. She had blonde hair, but we were pretty sure it came out of a bottle. She could have been anywhere between thirty and sixty.

Anyway, she had given about twenty of us in her classes an invitation to an end-of-school-year party. We were shocked. That was the last thing that we had expected considering what a bitch she had been all year. We had a sort of informal discussion, and opinion was divided between going (to see what the hag’s house looked like inside) and not going (nobody wanted to be caught dead having anything to do with her).

Now one thing that my parents had taught me, whether to my advantage or not I can’t say, was to be polite. So on Friday night, at about 8:20, I walked up to her door. I didn’t hear any noise and I hoped I wasn’t the first to arrive. I hoped I wasn’t the only one to arrive. I took a big breath and I rang the bell.

About thirty seconds later the door opened and there she stood. She was dressed in a light blue dress with white hose and white platform soles that had gone out of style about 20 years before. Her make-up was incredibly overdone– big dark circle around her eyes, heavy mascara abd bright, bright red lipstick. She looked like a 1960’s magazine model that had been in a hurricane.

“Come in, come in,” she said, opening the door wider. “You’re the first one to arrive, so come on into the living room. She rather tottered down the hallway, but I didn’t need to see that to know that she’d been drinking– I could smell it trying to overpower her floral perfume which I could smell from about 6 feet away. I knew that I had made a mistake, but as I say, my parents had trained me to be polite, so I knew I had to stay a little while at least.

“Would you like a drink?”, she asked.

“Just a coke, please,” I replied.

“Oh come on, I don’t like to drink alone,” and as she said this she giggled, possibly because she knew as well as I did that it was a big fat lie.

“Coke and rum, then. Oh God,”, I thought as she brought a drink to me, “what had I let myself in for?” I prayed for someone else to arrive, but I had a sinking feeling that nobody else was coming.

“Let me put some music on,” she said, and she teetered over to the stereo. I noticed that her legs were pretty good looking. Her skirt was too short for a woman off her age– whatever that was. It came a good six inches above her knees, and with the high heels and white hose she was wearing she looked pretty tasty– from the waist down. But I coudn’t forget that smeary, slightly out of focus face . She bent over to dig out a record, and I had a nice view of a lot of smooth leg. I expected the music to be some kind of 60’s bubblegum pop, or some early disco, but I was pleasantly surprised. It was some kind of jazz, very quiet and soothing. I didn’t recognize it, but I liked it.

There was a lot more rum than coke in the glass, so I sipped it sparingly.

“I wanted to have a party at the end of the year for my best students to make up for being such a bitch the rest of the year.” That ingrained politeness came through again, and I started to protest, but she contniued “no, no, I know it’s true and I know what people say about me. I really am a first class cunt, aren’t I?”

I was shocked to hear her say “cunt”, but my diplomat’s nature took over. “I wouldn’t say you’re a — I hesitated– a bitch, but sometimes you’re very hard on Casibom your students.”

The phone rang just then, and she walked over-carefully to it and picked it up. “Hello, No, no he’s not here. All right, I will. Goodbye.”

She tottered back to the couch. “Someone wanted to talk to John and they askzd him to call Morgan when he arrives.” She looked at me as best she could. “He’s not coming , is he? Nobody’s coming, are they?”

I started to assure her that other would be arriving any minute, but my parents ahd also taught me not to lie, so I simply said, “I don’t think so.”

I coud see that she was trying to blink back the tears and I desperately wanted to be gone. “Well then,” she said brightly, “we’ll just have to have a party on our own.”

I had no choice– I had to get out of there. I stood up from the chair where I had been sitting and started to thank her and say that I had to leave early and meet some friends, when she stopped me.

“Please,” she said, “just stay and play one little game with me.”

Damn! that parental training made it difficult for me to refuse, but I least managed a feeble delay. “What sort of game?” I asked. I couldn’t see myself playing Trivial Pursuit with a half-drunk bitch of a teary-eyed English teacher.

“Here sit down on the couch”, (which I duly did), and it goes like this. One person closes their eyes and the other person put a kind of liquor on their finger and rubs it across the other person’s lips. The person with their eyes closed has to guess what kind of liquor it is.”

I should have guessed that it would be a drinking game. I decided to stay about 5 minutes and get the whole thing over with as quickly as possible. The couch was fairly low and she wasn’t sitting too close to me, but even so, I could see that her skirt had slid up another inch or so and I’d have been happy to stare at those sexy legs all night if it had been any woman except Miss O’Brien!

She pulled a rolling table with a lot of bottles on it over close to us. “OK, here we go– close your eyes.”

Dutifully I closed my eyes and a second later I felt her finger glide gently across my lips. I licked my lips and hazarded a guess. “Rum,” I said.

“Nope. Your turn.”

I tried to do the same thing that she had done– that is , brush her lips with my finger hard enough for her to taste the liquor but not so hard as to seem agressive or sexual.

“Gin,” she guesed.

“You’re right,” I said. ” I think you’re going to win this game because I don’t really have much experience in tasting alcohol.”

“Are you saying that I do?” she asked, and it was hard for me to decide whether she was asking a rhetorical question or not.

“No, no…” I protested, but she cut me off.

“Sshhh,” she said. “Play”.

And so we played. After about five or six rounds which she got right and I got mostly wrong, I said that I had to leave.

“Please play just a little while longer with me,” she said, making big puppy eyes, which would have been quite pretty if not for the the smudged eyeshadow around them.

I coud see that she was just like any teenager that had invited a lot of people to a party and had no one show up. You want to hang on to the one person who seems to be your friend. I had never thought about adults like this, but when I saw that she was close to tears, I understood a lot about her. She wanted to be accepted, just like everybody else.

I started to feel a little sympathy for her, even though she was a drunk and a bitch. I also started to feel a little attracted to her. I could see the outline of what looked like a lacy bra as her breasts pushed against her dress, and every time she closed her eyes I stared at her legs. I was starting to get a familair feeling in my crotch and my mind wasn’t really sure about the way my body was behaving.

“Five more minutes,” I told her.

The next time I brought my Campari-soaked finger to her lips she surprised me by giving it a little lick. “I couldn’t taste it,” she said innocently. But her eyes betrayed her and I saw something there.

The next moment when I closed my eyes, I licked her finger too, just the way she had licked mine. “I couldn’t taste it,” I told her in a gently mocking tone.

The next time I put my finger to her lips, she licked it again, this time in a delibertaely sensual way that was unmistakable. And I responded in kind. This went on for a couple of rounds of the game, but neither one of us was trying too hard to guess what we were tasting. We were both feeling the other’s tongue doing things to our fingers. Soon she took my finger into her mouth and sucked it like it was a popsicle, and I had a hard-on.

As much as I hated to stop, I had to rearrange my cock because it was in an extremely uncomfortable position. Besides, I had to pee. “Excuse me,” I said, ever polite. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“Just down the hall there,” she said.

I went to the toilet, relieved myself, fixed my hard-on Casibom Giriş as comfortably as possible, and went back to the living room , looking forward to some more sexy licking.

When I crossed the threshold, I stopped. I mean I stopped dead. I was frozen in the doorway, looking at Miss O’Brien who, who had laid down on the couch and was dangling her light blue panties from one finger. One leg was bent at the knee with her foot on the floor, and the other was up on the back of the couch. She couldn’t spread her legs any wider. I could see them in their white stockings and I could see the small area of her thighs above her stockings, and even from 15 feet away I could see the triangle of dark curly hair and the pink slit that was her twat. I was having problems breathing as she swung her panties back and forth.

“Hi. My name’s Juanita, and I want you to come over here,” she said as she put one hand between her legs and rubbed mound. Oh yeah, don’t you have to go meet a friend?”

I shook my head,and again, ever obedient, I walked over to her. It seemed to take 10 minutes to walk 10 steps, and my eyes were constantly flicking back and forth between her open cunt, and her eyes which were clearly inviting me to fuck her.

“Take off your pants.”

I kicked off my shoes, and pulled down my jeans, my briefs, and my socks in one movement. Things seemed to be happening in slow motion. I knelt on the couch, positioned myself over her, and put my hands on either side of her shoulders. Then I lowered my rock-hard cock down towards her open crotch and she lifted herself up to meet me. She was already wet, and I slid easily into her. I didn’t really know what I was doing, so I only put about an inch of dick into her, but it felt like I was on fire with pleasure. But she knew what she was doing and she wrapped her silky legs around me and pulled me deep into her.

This was the unexpected fulfillment of all my dreams for the past 6 or 7 years. I wasn’t just masturbating while I dreamed of a beautiful female, I wasn’t groping out a teenage classmate or sucking my girlfriend’s tits, or even making Laura come right through her pantyhose– no, I was fucking a real woman! It’s hard to describe what my first time inside a pussy was like, but it was fantastic And, oddly enough, what I remember most is the feel of her stocking-clad legs, wrapped arouind me and holding me in her embrace.

I came pretty quickly, the biggest orgasm I’d ever had, and collapsed on top of her, panting. She wouldn’t let me go, but held me in place with her legs. Not that I wanted ot move.

“That was your first time, wasn’t it?” she asked in a throaty voice.

All I could do was nod against her shoulder.

“You were great,” she said, “but I can’t let you go until you make me come.”

I was willing to do anything she wanted to make her come– I was willing to do anything she wanted, period. I would have mopped her kitchen floor if she had asked me.

“You’re a young man, and if I’m not mistaken, you’ll recover pretty quickly.”

My cock, though still inside her honeybox was limp. But hearing her say she wanted me to make her come made it stir a little bit, and I too was pretty sure that in a short while I could get it up again. Anyway, I was going to try my damndest.

She gently pushed me off of her and I sat up, still a bit dazed. She stood up and dropped her dress to the floor and then took off her bra. Her boobs were fairly small and a bit saggy, but she had brown nipples that stood up like the end of my thumb. I had never seen such big nipples and I felt my cock stir again, this time a bit more.

“What do you think,” she asked as she struck a provacative pose, one leg cocked and her pussy thrust towards me.

“You look…”–I searched for the right word– “so fuckable.”

“Hmmmm, that’s what I wanted to hear.”

“But in a few minutes,” I said, as I glanced down at my cock that was still recuperating.

“Let me help you”, she said. She put her knees on either side of me and straddled me, rubbing her slick wet bush against my belly and lifting first one tit, then the other to my mouth.

I’d had a lot of practice with my former girlfriend, so I knew hat to do with those huge nipples. Firts I kissed them and the whole breast, lightly at first, then with more force. Then I started licking, teasing them , circling them with my tongue, then flicking them from side to side. In a few minutes, as Miss O’Brien started to moan and squirm, I started to suck them. It was an incredible feeling, having those big brown nipples in my mouth while she rubbed against me and I added to my pleasure by stroking her smooth thighs.

It may seem weird that I called the woman I had just fucked (or rather who had fucked me) Miss O’Brien, but I had known her for three years as my English teacher, so it was hard to get rid of the habit. And somehow it made it more exciting to remember that she was my teacher.

Now I was in the last stage Casibom Yeni Giriş of nipple-play. I took a nipple between my teeth and began to nibble it, biting harder and harder,waiting for a sign that I’d gone too far. When I felt her stiffen a bit, I eased off and bit less hard. I took one in my teeth and shook it like a dog shakes a stick. I hoped she liked what I was doing– I’d had plenty of experience, but only with one girl.

Apparently she did like it, because she gave a deep sigh and said “God” in a sort of half whisper. Her head was tipped back and the look on her face was one of pure pleasure.

“Come with me,” she said, and she sttod up.

I stood up too, and she took my semi-hard dick in her hand and she walked slowly down the hall to her bedroom, still wearing her white stockigs and those platform heels. Just looking at her legs and feet I started to get even harder , and I think she noticed because she looked down at my cock and smiled.

She slipped off her shoes, laid down on the bed, and pulled me down beside her.

“I’m your teacher,right? Well, I want to teach you more than English. I want to teach you how to please a woman.”

My cock was hard now, but I must have looked disappointed.

“Like I said,” she continued, “you were very good, but maybe I can give you a few pointers that will help you with your other lovers.”

I was flattered that she just assumed that I would have other lovers.

“First, go slow. The longer you take, the gentler you are, the more excited a woman will become, and then when you put your big rod in her she’ll be ready to come. Second, talk to her. Tell her what you like and ask her what she likes. Talk dirty to her–it’s a big turn-on for most women. Third, make her come first. If you make her come first, you’ll always be satisfied. And last, find out what really turns a woman on. Each woman is different– some like to have their nipples sucked– and touched her tits– like you did to me. Some like to have their back and shoulders kissed, or their knees or elbows. Some like to have their pussy licked or their fingers. You never know until you ask, and you may have to ask several times because some women are embarrassed by what they want you to do to them. I know that’s a lot to remember when you just want to shoot your load of cum into her pussy, but if you think about what your doing, it will pay off. Don’t be a ‘slam-bam, than you m’am’ kind of lover.”

It took a lot longer to write that than it did for her to say it and I listened to what she said while I stroked her stocking’d legs.

“Let me practice my lesson,” I said in a hoarse voice.

“Show me,” she said as she rolled over, giving me a view of her ass, which was skinny and flat, but still incredibly exciting.

I put several of the lessons into effect at once. I started kissing her back and shoulders, moving down towards her ass, going very slowly. And I asked her what she liked.

“I’m too ebarrassed to tell you,” she said.

I figured this was just part of what was turning into a game.

“Let me tell you what I like”, I said, and she nodded. “I like a woman who wears stockings or pantyhose, and I like to feel and stroke and kiss their legs, and I like ot kiss their feet. That’s what I’m going to do to you now,” and again she nodded.

I started to kiss my way slowly down the back of her legs, savoring the feel of the tight nylon against my face. When I reached her feet I began to lick them and I heard her first moan. I licked more vigorousy, and she moaned louder. This encouraged me to do what I’d been thinkin of since I had massaged Laura’s feet a few months before. I took her white nylon-covered toes and I put them in my mouth and I nibbled and sucked and licked them until she was starting to wriggle and moan even louder. Then I licked and kssed my way back up her legs and as I got closer and closer to her ass, she made it easy to do what I’d been wanting to do to her since she had led me down the hall to the bedroom.

As I reached her ass, she spread her legs wide and lifted her butt off the bed, and never hesitating, I licked and kissed my way rigtht into her dripping cunt.

I pressed right in, licking the juice off her thighs, pushing my tongue into her honeyhole, grabbing her hips and pulling her burning pussy against my eager mouth. I pulled her back hard against my extended tongue and she she gave a long loud moan.

“This is what I like, this is it!” she practically shouted. “Yes, God, yes, eat me from behind! Eat my pussy, yeah, eat me!”

I didn’t need to be told that she liked it– she was pushing back against my tongue, wiggling her ass against my face. I couldn’t wait any longer. I got on my knees and slid my hard-on into her sweet, wet, hole. I didn’t hesitate this time– I pushed all the way in , and immediately we got into a rhythm. I still had my hands on her hips, but I slid them up and around her and I grabbed her tits, feeling her nipples between my fingers. I was determined to make it last longer this time, but she had other ideas.

She just exploded. She screazmed as she started her orgasm, and that put me over the top and I started pumping her full of cum for the second time that night.

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