The girl was frightened, immobile. Julia Perkins approached her, reached a searching arm towards her rigid form, and began lightly stroking her hair.
What am I doing, she wondered, near desperation. First, she'd seduced Steve Tanner. Now, she held his girl friend to her will beneath her dancing fingertips. She must control this girl's mind. She must. Her very existence depended on it.
Her hand drifted down to the firm young breasts in front of her. Julia touched them beneath the material and felt the hard points of the girl's nipples. She squeezed. Hard. The young student groaned. It was a desperate moan, a moan of fear, but more, a moan of unfamiliar desire, a moan charged by the fluttering sensations rising for the first time from the pink slushy depths of her tight little twat.
Julia undid the girl's jeans, slipped her hand beneath the material and buried her fingers in a sea of young cunt juice. She felt hips rolling in response, felt the girl digging back at her hands with her cunt, craving it, wanting more, more until she could again feel those violent spasms ripping through her muscles, her skin, her soul.
Her eyes closed. She was close, thought Julia, so close. She worked faster, and as the first moans began to spill from the quivering throat, Julia thought triumphantly, SHE'S MINE, SHE'S MINE. I've got her just where I want her.
CHAPTER ONE
A swarm of dried leaves scattered through the nearly deserted parking lot of Clinton High School. Young girls struggled with unruly skirts in the crisp autumn breeze while boys combed their scattered hair in a futile effort to keep it in place. Making their slow way from one silent classroom to the next, janitors swept up the debris of paper scraps, erasure droppings, misshapen paper clips, twisted staples and broken pencils; all the ghosts of students who earlier in the day had marched obediently from one subject to the next. After-school rehearsals filled the air with a cacophony of distant sounds. Drum cadences and Bugle fanfares echoed from the band field. From in front of the gym the peppy shouts and 'rah-rah' 'Go-Get-'em' chants of the cheerleaders bounced off the walls and from the football stadium came the somewhat violent thuds of craniums in collision and the counterpoint of barked commands from the coaching staff. Students still walked the corridors but for the most part the school had finished the day's business, was locking up and shutting down, awaiting a fresh start in the morning.
In Room 203, a slim long-haired blonde sat at a large wooden desk in front of the blackboards, absent-mindedly shuffling through a stack of papers. All were due to be returned in the morning, complete with insightful commentary and teacherly guidance, but her mind drifted, its attention caught now by the sounds of practicing that floated in on the cool breeze, or perhaps replaying an insignificant conversation with some forgotten acquaintance earlier in the day. Anything to delay what had become for her a slow torture, a mind-numbing exercise in futility. "The Symbolism of Good and Evil In Moby Dick By
Herman Melville and the Meaning of the Whale" she read on a title page and literally cringed. Save me from mediocrity; that had become her prayer, one that seemed to go unanswered. All the idealism of youth and college was as a pathetic shout in a long night of deadly silence. Life follows exactly a carefully planned progression and still winds up taking the wrong path? She had no answers. It really wasn't that she disliked teaching; more it was a feeling that somewhere out there, the real task of teaching waited for someone else to fill the role, while here in Clinton, she was stuck babysitting in a cruel parody of teaching. Oh, it wasn't that bad. Perhaps if she could loosen up more, both with students and fellow faculty members. If she could let herself enjoy it instead of simply going through learned actions. But she couldn't, or had no way of unlocking a hidden capability, assuming it existed. Once, she'd felt truly called to the challenge of shaping young minds. She'd wanted to make a difference, do some good, feel useful. After two years here, she felt only used, though couldn't have said by whom. But somehow, by some sinister magic of choice mixed with random chance, her life had slowly dwindled to the dimensions of a small room, each crack on the ceiling memorized, her routine grown as familiar and static as a pattern of faded wallpaper, the steps needed to move around within her limited boundaries retraced often enough that she could do it blindfolded. She'd wither on the vine without having had the first chance to blossom, she thought.
Oh God. That's the kind of limp metaphor she'd come to expect from her creative writing class. Just who was working on whom, she wondered. A shadow crossing the open doorway interrupted her melancholy. "Who's there?" she called out, when whoever it was simply hovered out of view. A slouched figure slowly moved into the light, a faceless silhouette in the bright rectangle.
"Well come in, if you're going to," she said, carefully adding the tone of stern annoyance she knew characterized the image of her held by her students.
'Miss Perkins' was known as a tough customer. Other teachers got results with a friendly, gentle approach. Julia Perkins got what she wanted because usually her students were too damn scared to make a mistake. Merciless was a term used to describe her. Mean-assed bitch was another. While not her true nature, it was an image she cultivated carefully. The unexpected juxtaposition of her somewhat overwhelmingly good looks and ice-cold manner kept an otherwise rowdy flock safely sedated.
She recognized the figure as he entered the room.
"Hello, Steve. If that's your paper, it was due today during fifth period."
"Yes ma'am, I know." He approached her with steady steps, but his eyes avoided her own. "I thought I'd best hand it in anyway. It's better than an 'F' at least."
"That remains to be seen," she said with a deliberate hard edge in her voice. Wordlessly she flipped through the pages, appeared to read a paragraph or two and then, with no further comment, she scrawled a large LATE in red ink across the title page and dropped it onto the stack in front of her. She looked up at the youth with an air of casual dismissal.
He fidgeted, shifting his weight from foot to foot and was obviously ill at ease.
"Was there something else," she asked, indicating by her tone that the prospect displeased her.
"Well, Miss Perkins. I really worked hard on that paper. I know it was late, and all, but I really tried to do a good job on it. You always complain that we don't take our work seriously, and I'd really appreciate it if you'd keep in mind that I really worked hard on it when you grade it."
He spoke with great discomfort. Yet the sincere expression softened her. It wasn't often that she had an opportunity to deal with her students one-on-one like this. There seemed much less call for the metallic formality of her classroom manner.
"All right Steve. I will really keep that in mind. I appreciate you speaking your mind like that."
This shift in attitude caught him by surprise. His eyes widened for a split second. Without warning, he hit her with a question that could have been taken from her own inner monologue of a few minutes before.
"Miss Perkins, do you enjoy teaching?"
Now it was Julia's turn to be surprised. But he asked it of her so simply and with such honest, straightforward inquisitiveness, she couldn't help responding in kind.
"Well, to tell you the truth, Steve, sometimes I really don't know." She was a little flustered. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh, I don't know," he said, embarrassed now by his blunt question. "It just seems that there wouldn't be a lot of rewards for having to put up with so much."
She smiled, knowing that too was out of character. "Do you think I have to put up with a lot?"
"Oh ... yeah. I guess so." He grinned a boyish, self conscious grin. Uh-oh, Julia, she thought.
Watch yourself. The light from the doorway outlined his curly brown hair with an aura-like sheen. He was, to be sure, a very good looking young man. And, she was forced to admit, she herself was not that much older than he. In three more years the age difference would be wholly insignificant. Now, however, the gulf between them was far wider than years alone could account for. She leaned back in her chair and assumed a casually familiar posture, again very much out of character. He seemed to loosen up, appeared to be in no hurry to leave, nor was she necessarily anxious for him to do so.
"There are rewards in teaching. Not as many as I'd thought there would be ... every so often someone stands out of the crowd, shows some special ability that you can tell yourself you helped to develop."
"We learn a lot from you, Miss Perkins. I know you don't always think so, but everyone has a lot of respect for you."
"Does that include you?" she asked.
"Oh, yes ma'am. Yes Ma'am; sure." He said it hurriedly, almost seemed surprised by his own words. He still shifted his weight from one foot to another though he didn't seem as uncomfortable as when he'd first come into the classroom.
"Why don't you sit down," she invited, enjoying this personal contact with someone who usually was just another blank unresponsive face. Against her will, she couldn't help notice the long bulge that stretched from his crotch down the inside of his left thigh. In her mind, she gave a long low whistle. Steve Tanner, she thought, you are one stunningly well-endowed young man. Almost as a reflex she caught a quick flash of a secluded back country road, of a darkened automobile hidden off to the side, of closed windows fogged over. She saw a bare ass rising and falling in the back seat, could almost hear the muffled cries of the cheerleader or majorette stretched out on the vinyl, felt the heat of this young stud's cock pounding through her, could almost feel its touch, feel it tearing through her own flesh--! Urn ... take it easy there Julia, she thought. Let's not get carried away here. But wait! What's this? Could it be that she was actually getting a little steamy under the silk? Hmmm ... no doubt about it. That oily slipping of her thighs against each other as she shifted in her chair to face him was certainly no fantasy. Now here was an unexpected development. One she was not ready to deal with. She suddenly thought it might be better if he did leave, but at her invitation sit down, he'd (eagerly? she wondered) he's pulled up a chair and was now looking quite relaxed. Julia sensed that somehow, the hard line between student and teacher had been erased, perhaps not fully; still, his attitude was much more one of a peer rather than a student. Best get things back on a safe professional track she thought.
"What do you want to do with your life, Steve?"
He laughed.
"I know; isn't that just the corny kind of question you'd expect from a teacher?" He mulled over his answer, choosing his words carefully.
"I want to get out of Clinton ... I want to go to college . ... I guess I want to get someplace where I can experience a variety of options, you know?"
She nodded, a sympathetic friendly nod. Look casual, she told herself. Be natural, as if he'd somehow invaded her thoughts and knew what she'd been thinking.
"I don't know what I want to do Miss Perkins. That doesn't bother me though. A lot of times, the people who know exactly what they want when they get out of high school wind up in a rut real fast. And they don't ever seem to leave Clinton either."
"It sounds like you've thought a lot about this. You have a very mature attitude." That's it. Sound like a teacher. Sound like someone he needs to look up to. She wondered if he'd seen her looking at his crotch-like THAT ... oh lord, gotta cut that out. Was it her imagination, or was his crotch bigger. Crotch nothing, it was his cock she was wondering about, and yes, now that you mention it, it did seem to be bigger. Not, you understand, that SHE was noticing, or preoccupied or anything of the sort. She was a teacher, and hadn't he said they respected her? That had surprised her, of course; she'd assumed they all thought she was not quite human, or at least female, even though she'd unbutton an extra button on her blouse once in a while and manage to drop a piece of chalk and linger just a little long, not too long mind you, but enough to flash a fast glimpse of rolling, curved flesh that all male eyes would be targeted on when she'd stand back up and continue as if nothing was out of the ordinary, because after-all, she was 'Miss Perkins' the mean-assed bitch, wasn't she, who could not possibly have thoughts of sex or titillating students, and maybe it was true that she was still a virgin and just needed a good fuck, like by the football team, or at least that's what they all thought, wasn't it?
What did Steve think? She was confused here; all of a sudden she thought maybe he was putting her on. Was that it, or was she paranoid; guilt-ridden at this stunning violation of taboo, though what harm was a little fantasy, after all? No harm at all, unless, of course, you wanted it to become real and from somewhere in her brain, some new, strange person walked on the scene and subtly assumed control; someone with no concern about what was or was not socially acceptable; indeed was unaware that such a distinction existed. And now, as Julia chatted about school, and Clinton, and even let out bits and fragments of her own past (teachers were once students, remember) the teacher in her battled furiously with this intruder, who's only drive seemed to center ... well, yes ... seemed to center right there between her legs with little to no real thought involved. Just ... lust. Mad lust.
As she spoke with her voice to Steve, she pleaded with herself in her mind to get a hold of this thing, and at once saw her hands clutching a large swollen cock. No, no; that wasn't quite the idea....
"Do you ever think of moving on, Miss Perkins? Getting out of Clinton?"
"Sure. Don't get me wrong, I like teaching; I don't always think I'm good at it, but I like it."
He nodded encouragingly, enjoying this familiar, casual manner of hers as much as she did.
"I guess there's a certain stigma though. You know; "Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach'. "
"What would you like to do?" The question was innocent enough, and natural enough too. But was he really stealing quick looks at her breasts, or was that too paranoia, if paranoia was the right word. She realized that she'd loosened a couple of buttons on her blouse as she'd been grading papers, just so she'd be more comfortable.
"What would I like to do ... " she mused, letting herself contemplate the question. Wouldn't you love to know what I'd like to do she thought. "I'm like all English teachers," she said. "Just a frustrated, failed novelist."
"Yeah?" He seemed genuinely intrigued by the idea. "What would you like to write about?"
"Oh, I don't know; I wrote short stories in college but everyone does. I even got a few poems published." She smiled, a little sadly. "Dreams. That's what I'd write about. Dreams and the people who dream them."
He considered that for a minute, then hit her with another unexpected change in direction.
"Miss Perkins; what do you think about someone ... young ... getting, sort of involved, with an older person."
Julia wondered if the shock was as evident in her eyes as it felt in her gut. He was looking straight at her now, his eyes piercing through her. Or, was he just innocently waiting for another answer from a teacher who'd unexpectedly turned out to be friendly? And was she losing her mind, or did she really want to be the object of his question? What WAS going on here?
She tried to maintain her casual tone with him as she answered, but could hear the quiver in her voice, or at least felt it in her throat and assumed he too noticed.
"That's a pretty serious question, Steve. "I don't think I could just give an all purpose answer. It all depends on the situation."
"But there are situations where you could imagine it being all right?"
"Well, as I say ... it all depends. For example, how young is young? Your age?"
He nodded.
"Steve, are you asking about a situation in your life, something that's happening to you right now? Because if you are, I don't think I'm the one to advise you, if advice is what you're looking for."
"Oh, that's not so Miss Perkins. You're not really all that much older than me ... I mean, you can still remember what it was like when you were young."
"Whoa, I hope you're not calling me old."
"Oh, no ma'am, not at all. Well, it's just that you could probably relate to the situation a lot easier than other people I know. And might not be so quick to come down hard on me."
Don't be so sure of that, boy, she thought, though she doubted he was aware of her interpretation.
"Like I said, Steve. There's a real risk involved, and one that could be greater for the other person, even ... I couldn't give any opinion without knowing who stood a chance of getting hurt. If someone could get hurt, yourself included, you'd need to consider you actions very carefully."
He looked at her for a long time. Then he shifted his position and a look of discomfort crossed his face. Without realizing what she was doing, she followed the line of his body to his crotch, and openly regarded the erection he was obviously trying to conceal. His face turned a deep crimson and without warning he stood up.
"It's getting late, Miss Perkins. I, uh, have to pick up my brother. It's been real good talking to you." He hesitated, as if to say something else, and then bolted from the room, nearly tripping on the leg of a desk by the door.
She sat motionless at her desk for a while more; how long, she couldn't have said. There were no cheerleader yells now, no fanfares; only an occasional slamming of a car door, a gunning of an engine and squeal of tires as the last remaining students roared off into whatever nightlife there was to be found in Clinton.
The light from the doorway was a pale orange now; she was swallowed in the late-afternoon silence. She was afraid to think, afraid to openly confront the scene that had just taken place, had no language with which to phrase the questions in her mind. Had anything at all taken place? And if so, how had she responded?
Later that night, their conversation still haunted her. She prepared a salad in her clean spotless kitchen, poured herself a glass of wine and flipped through the stack of records beside her stereo, finally settling on some Mozart string quartets. She thought of the boy, who was really no boy at all; none of them were. They were all driven by awakening urges and tensions only dimly recognized. But she was charged with guiding them, with helping to develope their young minds, and was she any more in control of her urges? Wasn't that at the heart of her dissatisfaction with life in Clinton, the fact that, simply put, she was lonely, that she longed for nothing more than a loving caress, the physical touch of a man capable of reading her needs and answering them? How long had it been since she felt confident hands stroking her breasts, removing her clothing piece by deliberate piece, tickling the hair between her legs, raising the juices inside her in a mounting torrent? How long since she'd loved, or simply made love? Too long.
As she knew she would, almost unaware of her act, she began massaging her breasts. They ached; they were starved for attention. She sipped her wine as she gently rolled a nipple between her fingers. Signals raced back through her nerves, filling her breasts with a passionate need for more, spilling over through the rest of her, down through her slim body till she felt a tingling inside the moist triangle of hair at the meeting of her thighs. How did students do it these days; was the back seat still their most familiar ground, or were they more sophisticated now? She doubted it, recalled her own fumbling encounters, the raw lust that filled her and that was only partially eased by the inexperienced cocks she'd permitted to pass the gates of her cunt. What she'd give now for one of those young cocks.
Wouldn't she love to have one at her disposal, this very night? A cock that could grow instantly hard, come in a mad torrent, and then grow hard again. Did Steve's cock have thick blue veins rippling along its stiff sides, she wondered, as she opened her blouse. Did its head swell and turn purple as he began throbbing towards orgasm? She grasped her breasts and saw his tightly packed jeans and tried to imagine what had been going on beneath them-, breasts straining fiercely at the confining cups of her bra, spilling wildly into her hands as she unclasped the restraining clip, thick globes of pink flesh with large brown moons in the center. She worked her fingers into them now, deeply, squeezing and pulling them, imagining that they were Steve's hands at her, that it was he who unzipped her skirt, who scratched across the outside of her wet panties. She wanted him; this morning she'd never have acknowledged such an outrageous notion but something beyond her conscious control, past awareness even, had boiled out of her in a mad surge leaving its oily smear across her thighs, as she'd talked with him today; now she wanted only to be taken by him, savaged by his strong athletic hands, raped by his throbbing cock. She wanted it in her, wanted to feel it pushing past her wanton lips even as she plunged her fingers under the elastic band of her panties and buried them in her.
She was wet and her juices spilled over her hand as it furiously worked the swollen pink flesh. As her tension mounted, she went past fantasy, past thoughts of men present or past, past language and thought, was focused only on her quivering clitoris and the screaming surges of ecstasy it shot down her legs each time she rubbed against it. She cried, a cry of unfulfilled lust, a cry of isolation, and a cry of coming, mad coming, filling her body with its racking spasms.
At last she was still. The delicate counterpoint of interweaving strings floated through her, binding her splattered being once more into a coherent whole. The tension in her body, in her tits and cunt had been relieved. For now. The tension in her mind was just beginning. Somehow, some way, she knew that unless and until she resolved it, she would be driven by a force beyond her control, poised, like a crazed ballerina, at the leading edge of madness.
CHAPTER TWO
"...and in 'American Short Stories' you'd be well advised to be able to answer questions on chapters two and three. I don't know for sure, but I wouldn't be surprised if you encountered a pop quiz sometime in the next couple of days. Any questions?" Of course there were none. As Julia surveyed her class, she knew that already their minds were outside the classroom, that she was done with them until the same time tomorrow. All books were closed, all eyes were focused on the door to the classroom, each body ready to bolt at the signal. "That's all" said Julia and another period ended.
Steve Tanner was one of the last to leave. It had been three days since he'd handed in his late paper. The past two days, he'd once again been absorbed into the mass of occasionally alert faces that confronted her every day.
"Steve, do you have a minute," she asked him. He waited, expressionless, as the rest of the students filed out. She noticed that he held his notebook like a shield in front of him, perfectly covering (protecting?) his crotch.
When they were alone, she assumed a professional, teacherly air and produced his paper, the bright red LATE still glaring from the first page. "I'm giving you an A on this; the minus is for handing it in late. Otherwise, it's really excellent. I'm impressed."
"Thank-you Miss Perkins," the lack of expression in his voice matching his face. He reached a hand out to take it from her, the other still keeping his notebook firmly in place.
"You don't have a class this period, do you?" He shook his head. "Why don't you read my comments. I'd like to discuss this with you, if you have the time."
He hesitated a moment, then slouched into a front row desk and leafed through the pages, pausing over her notations in the margins.
"I'm not sure I see what you mean here, when you say I'm too ambiguous." He pointed to a comment on page ten and she moved around behind him to read over his shoulder. As she bent down to read, she was aware of her breasts making contact with his shoulder. He gave a small involuntary jerk but she took no notice, keeping up a constant stream of scholarly chatter, all the while gently rubbing her nipples across the back of his shirt. She took no notice of his discomfort even though he'd begun to squirm and small beads of sweat broke out on his forehead.
"O.K.; the problem here really isn't with content so much, it's just that you're too clumsy with your sentence structure. See, in this paragraph here, it's not really clear if you mean Melville, or if you're referring back to this reference to Ahab on the preceding page. A better way to phrase it maybe would have been...." She had no idea what she was saying, just babbled through a stock monologue on form and content, all the while luxuriating in the physical touch of his body. She smelled after shave on his skin though could find no evidence on his cheeks that he had a genuine need to use it. A pack of cigarettes stuck out of his shirt pocket and she saw him racing between classes for a restroom filled with smoke and mindful of approaching footsteps of teachers, or worse, Henry Scroggins, the principal. Two of the cigarettes in the pack were shorter, thinner and obviously hand-rolled and this too amused her. Artifacts of youthful passage into a world perceived as somehow more mature, more important; evidence of his impatience with the monotony of a world he'd already outgrown.
Julia walked back to her desk and leaned against it in front of him. She'd chosen her outfit carefully that day and knew her light sweater left no doubt as to the shape of her breasts the shape of her nipples pointing out and slightly up and away from each other. He seemed reluctant to look at her, and when he did, his eyes went straight to hers, avoiding the slim light lines of her body. Her blonde hair, long and straight, had been brushed to a shine and the sparkling strands brushed against her breasts as they sloped away from her body. She looked good and knew it. So did Steve. Of that, she was certain.
Finally she could take no more of his monosyllable answers, his awkward reluctance to gaze upon her hungry with longing. She wanted him to lust after her, wanted him to drool over her.
"Steve," she asked calmly. Do I make you uncomfortable?"
A red flush rose in his cheeks. A hot flush, she told herself. His eyes were riveted on the desk top. His breathing had become heavy, staccato and sharp. She repeated the question, her voice quiet, near whispering.
"Do I make you uncomfortable?" There was no doubt in her mind now, as to his desire. Had she misread his intentions, he'd already have ended the meeting, or at least diffused the situation. Instead, the small trembling of his hands, his furtive quick glances at her breasts, his inability to speak steeled her resolve, convinced her that he was hers for the taking. She'd already dealt with her own doubts and now her objective sat before her, the path to its attainment unobstructed.
"I've been thinking about the question you asked me the other day. You remember which one, don't you?"
"You mean about whether or not you liked teaching?" His eyes met hers, a look of confusion spilling almost like tears from them. His face was a silent plea; he was out of his element in this. If ever there was a time for her to provide guidance, it was now. She would show him the way; she would lead him by the hand. As far as she was concerned, the path was easy to find; her legs spread before him in an inverted 'V clearly pointed his direction.
"I recall you asking me something else." Her voice was low now, hoarse. She let it flow melodically over him, soothing him. "Something about someone young and someone older ... I remember saying that if someone could get hurt, you should be very careful."
She allowed her eyes to bore into him. To her joy, he held her gaze.
"What if no one gets hurt?" he asked at last. "You never find two people together without the risk of one getting hurt, Steve. Some people spend their whole lives prisoners of their fear of being hurt. You have to decide if yours is strong enough to keep you from experiencing life."
This subtle challenge to his passage from youth was, perhaps, unfair. She did not play fair. Maybe she'd regret this; actually, she knew damn well she'd regret it. She also knew she'd regret infinitely more letting this boy pass untouched from her life.
He looked away.
"Are you afraid to look at me, Steve? Don't you want to look at me?" She slowly, deliberately, raised her hands to her breasts, cupping them from beneath. They filled her smooth palms easily.
He looked at her again, and now the burning lust was openly etched along his tightly constricted eyes, in his slightly parted lips. The note book in his lap tilted at a crazy angle, as if resting on a large object. She knew exactly what that object was, could even now imagine the soft flesh swelling, growing hard. She walked to the door and shut it. The clicking of the latch echoed in the silence between them. She turned to him, her voice scarcely audible.
"I can open this, if you wish. You can walk out, if that's what you'd like." She took his statue-like immobility for an answer, locked the door, and raised her sweater over her shoulders. She heard him gasp. Inside her tight jeans, she was a flood of juice, her cunt a vast empty pocket, a silence, a void to be filled with cock and cum. His cock. His cum. Cum that even now filled his balls with relentless pressure. Was the tip of his cock drooling the clear liquid of arousal into his jockey shorts, she wondered. Was he already building to a blast of orgasm at the sight of her exposed breasts? She hoped so. She knew it was so. His face told her everything.
"Miss Perkins," he stammered. "This is scary."
"I know," she said with a tantalizing smile. "Isn't that what makes it exciting?" His face was now a sheet of pure astonishment, a blank page upon which she'd sketched the object of her own desire. She walked over to where he still sat rock-like in the desk.
"Touch me, Steve. Touch my breasts." She unhooked her bra, let the two halves fall to her side and gave her body a quick shake. Her breasts shivered, a visual imprint of the nerves firing spastically beneath the surface of her skin. Goose bumps broke out on her neck and shoulders; she felt hot, her skin burned to feel his touch, craved it. He still made no move towards her. Nearly mad now from longing, she bent down to him, letting her nipples dance in front of his face. Slowly, as if against his will, he tilted his head toward the rolling mounds and at last she felt the contact of his body and hers. "Oh, yes, please touch me!" she moaned. Perhaps she should keep her emotions more in control she thought. She could frighten him off yet. But she was reckless, having crossed all lines of caution long ago.
She took his face in her hands and kissed him. He kissed her back; a strong, passionate kiss. Still kissing her, he reached up and touched her inflamed tits.
"Oh that's good. Yes, that's good. Oh God they need you. Hold them, please hold them in your hands, your strong hands." He squeezed. She cried out. Loud. Too loud. She had to be careful; too much was at stake.
She fumbled at his crotch, unzipped his jeans and dug for his cock. It was trapped in the heavy material, far too stiff for her to maneuver and so pulling him up from his seat, she knelt before him, lowered his jeans to his knees and stared in wordless triumph at the thick cock that stuck through the leg of his jockey shorts. Those too she lowered and at last he was hers, literally in her hands to do with as she pleased.
What pleased her was to stick it in her mouth as fast as she could. As soon as she did, she realized the extent of the youth's torment, for at the first touch of her tongue he came in a massive gusher of cum. She hadn't expected so much so fast and half of it caught her full in the face. Recovering quickly, she buried the shaft to her throat and let the thick liquid spew forth. It was like she'd opened the valve to a fire hose, though the flames within her raged on, unaffected.
Steve was still helpless to do anything but stand there and let her work on his cock. She looked up at him, saw his head thrown back, his eyes closed and knew he liked what she was doing.
"You'd could come a quart, you hot stud," she said and he smiled an embarrassed grin. "I don't usually shoot off so quick," he asserted. "Really; sometimes I can go for a long time."
"That's because I know how to get you hot," she said to him, cradling his huge bag of balls. She poked a finger up his ass and sucked him till he was hard again. Then, still stroking his cock, she stood up and faced him. His cum still dribbled from her lips and she slowly licked it off and swallowed it.
"What do you want to do with this magnificent tool?" she asked him.
He stared hungrily at her breasts. "I want to fuck you and suck your tits," he said. She was excited to hear him say it, undid her jeans, and lay across her desk. "Pull my pants down and fuck me, hard," she ordered and he obeyed, a willing student following his teacher's lead.
He was huge. She cried little whimpers in his ear as his cock entered her and she felt it stretching her pussy walls. The flared tip shot ripples of unbearable ecstasy as it rushed deep in to her and pulled back, in deep and back. Having emptied his balls once already, he took longer to fill them again and she felt free to dig at him with her hips as she came again and again from his thrusts. Each orgasm increased in intensity; still he fucked her, and as she finally felt him build to a climax, she felt the muscles of her cunt sputter into a series of wild fluttering contractions. Her mind went blank; she was lost in the long corridor of his cock, lost in the insane rocking motions of his thrusts.
He came in another burst and she felt his cum leaking out around the sides of his cock, spurting through her cunt lips .
"Oh yes, yes, she moaned; shoot it in me. Fill me with it. Oh, empty those gorgeous balls in my cunt! Oh God, it's hot, so hot, you're hot Oh yes, yes, yes!
He stood over her, pumping like a madman, face screwed up into a twisted series of jagged lines and sharp intersecting planes. He was silent, probably scared to death of being discovered. Such fears never entered Julia's mind. Indeed, no thoughts crossed her mind. It was simply a white void, a slate wiped clean by his torrent of cum washing through her. The great cock pressed at her cunt from all sides; she could only moan in response.
At last she felt him grow limp, watched with amusement as his eyes shyly refrained from meeting her own. Was that another blush rising in his cheeks; No doubt about it. The boy had just fucked her eyes out yet was afraid to look at her body. He slid his greasy dick from between her legs and stepped back away from the desk, but she held her position, spreading her legs a little further.
"Look what you've done to me, you little stud," she teased, smearing her hands through the wet film that coated her thighs.
A self conscious grin darted across his face; he mumbled something inaudible and bent down to pull up his rumpled jeans. He quickly tucked in his shirt, buckled his belt and still he would not look at her.
"Don't you like my body Steve?" she asked, again with the melodic singing tone in her voice. His eyes darted across her flesh, so passively displayed before him, still open to him yet he couldn't hold his eyes on her as if the burning of her passion gave off a glow too bright for his young eyes.
Nonetheless, it bothered her that he felt so uncomfortable. She wanted him to enjoy what he had done, wanted him to want her, wanted him to NEED her, need to look at her, feel the varied movements within her, wanted him to learn from her. With no real conscious awareness of the transformation, Julia discovered a vital renewal in her role as teacher. This was one student she'd be willing to spend hours helping with his homework.
"Steve, look at me." Her voice was stern, commanding, more a return to the 'Miss Perkins' of third period than the wanton, craven woman of a few moments earlier. His eyes met her own. They were wide, but with astonishment, not fear. The enormity of their act together was just beginning to sink in. She imagined how he felt at that moment, his damp crotch still absorbing the residue of cum dribbling from his now soft cock, the fine empty calm in his balls, the tingle across his skin. Suddenly she wanted only to protect this fragile young man, to guide him, carefully, as he learned to accept his maturity, his manhood.
She sat up on the desk, reached out for his hands and pulled him to her. They kissed and she felt his resistance melt in her arms, fall before the onslaught of her passionate lips seeking his. She placed his hands on her breasts and forced them to press into her. He clung to her body like a baby and she fed him her nipple and for long delicious moments, suckled him with tender care. The touch of his mouth was gentle, sweet, arousing. As they held their embrace, she slid her hand between her legs and fingered herself to another orgasm. He sucked harder, supporting her shoulders firmly as she began to shudder from coming. Gasping, laying her head on his shoulder, she felt the wasted years lift from her life like a curtain, saw revealed there a lavishly arranged stage, felt the bright anticipation of a performance that only now was just beginning.
And then the moment was past; the smaller world of books and school day tasks beckoned him. He had no choice but to answer. Their mingling was a fragile thing, a small moment sliced out of a much larger flow of events that really paid them no heed. It was for her to create their space together, to show him the way, overcome his natural reluctance, protect him from the hurt and danger she exposed him to with her brazen behavior.
He remained silent as she dressed. His interest in her body was now open and she replaced each article of clothing slowly, lingering at the various points of her body before covering them. As she pulled her panties over her still moist thighs, she rubbed inside them, raising her hand up to the wet slit and dipping her finger in the goo. As she pulled her bra around her full breasts, she stroked the round curves and gave them a loving caress. Then they were kissing for the last time.
"Don't worry that this was wrong," she instructed him. "You and I make it right. Do you understand?"
He gulped. "I guess so Miss Perkins. I really don't know ... this isn't like anything I've ever done before."
"Me neither. Or did you think I routinely seduce my students?" Her eyebrows raised in a seductive arch. "But isn't it fun?"
He gazed longingly at her now clothed body. She must, she thought, seem to be like the fragments of a dream half remembered on waking; subconscious sensations still real, tangible, yet, as they mix and are overwhelmed by the real day-to-day world, fading, till at last they are but a fond memory without form or substance. Was that how he saw her? She would make it real. She would make herself a reality in his life, a dream that would not fade, a vision of real flesh, capable of touching and being touched. She would make him crave her.
CHAPTER THREE
"...so what are you saying? You don't have time to see me tonight? Is that what you're saying, Steve?"
Suzy got that kind of parental look she'd always get when she got mad; Steve was afraid to admit it, but she was really getting on his nerves.
"Look Suzy; I've told you. This is a big opportunity for me. Miss Perkins thinks I can get my paper published and she's been a real big help. If you thought anything about me instead of just your own self gratification it'd make life a lot easier for the both of us."
She took a long sip on her pint of chocolate milk, frowning while she considered this. She then looked him straight in the eye.
"Why'd you act like I'd interrupted something the other day when I came in her room?. "
"What are you talking about," he responded in a very disgusted annoyed tone. "I swear Suzy, you've got a very vivid imagination. Yes sireee, verrry vivid indeed," he mocked, emphasizing each syllable.
"You can make fun of me, but if it hadn't been Miss Perkins, I'd have gotten real jealous." She gave him an angry look. "I still may be."
"Oh boy! Now I've heard everything. You really take the cake Suzy, you know that? O.K., now look! That kind of talk could get people in a lot of trouble. Do you hear me. Huh!? Answer me, Suzy."
"Oh cut it out. Would I spread rumors like that?"
"You just did. To me."
She was silent. Odd, Steve thought; she didn't seem nearly as pretty as she usually did. Maybe it was the light, her hair; she was so ... young. Damn straight. Young compared to
Miss Perkins.
"Steve," she said after a long silence. "What's happening to us."
"I've had a lot on my mind lately. That's all."
His cold attitude left her empty.
"I feel like we're falling apart, and I feel helpless to do anything about it. Ever since you started working on this damn paper with MISS PERKINS your older woman SWEETHEART," but she could go no further. Steve cut her short.
"ENOUGH!" he shot out with the crack of a whip and slapped his palm on the bench. A couple of students lounging beneath an oak nearby looked over.
"I've had it with this crap, Suzy; had it up to here. You're a jealous little child and I really don't want to have to cope with it right now. At this point in my life, I could influence the next ten, twenty years of my life with very simple insignificant choices right now. Today! I can't waste time and energy defending myself against hysterical paranoia. I think we should stop seeing each other for a while. "
Darts of panic flew from her eyes.
"You need time to sort all this craziness out in your head."
"Steve, you can't be serious." Her cry was high-pitched. Again the couple by the oak tree looked their way.
"I need time to sort my way through a lot of really big problems right now Suzy. It's not really you. I just can't give you the time or attention you really deserve. I know I've been treating you badly. Do you think I feel good about it."
"I don't know what you think any more, Steve." Her face was ashen, her shoulders were shaking. Her bottom lip quivered.
Steve looked at his watch. He knew he'd feel rotten the rest of the day, but small talk was not easy for him,, and that's how he looked at this. Small talk to sooth someone's hurt. Well, maybe some people could feel responsibility when a weakling crumbled, but not him. Things were clicking for him, all at once, and he didn't want to lose his momentum. No way. Suzy was sweet, but he wasn't about to let her trip him up just when he was hitting his stride. "I've got to go." He said it simply, allowing no negations.
"So go." Tears were forming in her eyes.
"I'll call you. Give it a few days. I'll call you." He patted her shoulder and she brushed his hand away.
"Get out of my sight."
The dramatic shift in her tone shook him. As if a light had been flicked on, she was heavy with open hatred. All at once, he looked into her eyes, eyes so often the source of love and affection, and knew with all his being that these eyes were eyes that longed to see revenge. Best to get away from here. Quick. She held him with her gaze.
"Go on. Leave. You're a shit, Steve Tanner. You deserve whatever you get." She stood and without a glance back at him, walked across the school yard and out of sight around the corner of the library. Steve had an empty ache in his gut, but it was more than offset by the rumblings in his balls. God he was horney! Poor Suzy. She didn't know what she was missing. Life rolls on and waits for no one who can't keep up. Sorry Suzy old girl, but a wet finger doesn't quite add up to one Miss Perkins.
A quick flash struck him; he and Suzy, last year at the Junior/Senior Prom ... She'd almost gone all the way that night; came close enough to keep him on a leash, he thought now, but then he'd been filled with a love-lust that left him drained. Nice thing about Miss Perkins; you couldn't love a hunk like that. No sir. You fuck 'em. You fuck 'em the way they like it. Hard and mean. Well, to be honest, there'd been very little hard stuff and no mean at all. But he knew. She wanted it. She wanted to be treated rough. You could always tell those kind. He remembered the times she'd flash her tits to everyone, then stand up so straight-laced pure like the Sunday School bitch she pretended to be. Ha! He'd found out. Oh sure. He was willing to play the good little model citizen role for all it was worth and he was damn good at it and he knew it. It was all a matter of giving people what they wanted.
What Miss Perkins wanted was an innocent little mind to introduce to the world. O.K. He was her boy. No question about it. And ... to be honest about it, she'd opened up a brand new world. God could she fuck! He'd given up trying to keep his hard-ons hidden when he was alone with her. The class room was bad enough, but when they were alone, she was just so fucking sexy! Big tits, a real handful. He just loved to reach out and rip off a hunk. By God. And she loved it too. He knew. That day in Room 203 after class, when she'd fucked him for the first time. He could feel her wiggling every time he bit on her tits. Suzy never did that. She'd let him lick them and seemed to like that O.K., but Miss Perkins wanted to FEEL it. Oh boy! Did she want to feel it! And he wanted to feel her too, feel his cock inside that oh so sweet juicy snatch of hers. It was the first time he'd ever seen a pussy quiver, but she sure knew how to make it do it to him, when he'd had his cock in her, he could feel the damn thing being chewed alive ... by her cunt, for chrissakes! It was like the damn thing was alive. It felt like a little mouth buried inside the goo, like stepping on sand at the ocean and uncovering some god-awful thing wiggling around. He thought about sucking her tits, thought about getting his finger sticky with her cum, thought about fucking the ever-loving shit out of her, really blowing her eyes out with his cum, feeling her grip him and scream in his ear OH GOD OH YES OH FUCK ME OH FUCK ME!! !
Well hello; what's this? Hmmmm ... a little wet spot on the crotch. And a real heavy stuffed feeling under the old jeans there ... yeah, that Miss Perkins was some piece of ass all right. Goddam he was horney!! ! Maybe she'd fuck him again tonight, when he went over to her house to put the paper together. Lord God did he ever hope it hadn't been a one time thing. He wanted those tits rolling around again in his face, wanted to feel his balls squeeze their very life out of them and into her. He wanted to fuck and fuck and fuck and fuck....
The driveway to Miss Perkins' house was long. And the way it curved around in nearly a circle, through a whole lot of trees made it impossible to see from the road. Good, thought Steve. Just on the off chance someone might drive by; and might know it was Miss
Perkin's house; and might recognize his car....
It bothered him, to be so fucking scared when he was around her. He knew she wanted to be taken and dealt with by a real man, a grown up and he felt like a ... well, like a student with her. Well, maybe she liked that too. Who knows, he yelled at himself. Play it by ear. She's a horney woman and nobody knows what they'll do next.
She came to the door. Ouch, thought Steve as the un-fucking-real sight of her tits slapped his eyes. Oh Lordy Miss Perkins, they look like they're going to explode all over that tight little halter you're wearing--!
He realized he'd been staring like a fool. But look at that delicious little grin on her face....
"Urn, hello Miss Perkins." Real lame there, Steve. Real lame. Where's the stern commanding tone you've been working on all afternoon?
"Well, I see you're on time." She grinned slyly, looking at her watch. "Exactly, I might add. I like that." She stood aside and he walked past. She leaned into him (or was it an accident?) and brushed his arm with her nipples; just a little but they felt sooooo soft and good.
"I think it says a lot about a person when they take an appointment seriously." She was wearing something that smelled like flowers ... gardenias! That was it. Suzy's older sister wore that sometimes.
"Well, I've been doing a lot of thinking, you know, about Melville and all and I was getting real excited about pulling this paper together. So I didn't want to be late." He tacked on a boyish grin. Give 'em what they want, he thought. Lucky he'd found the Monarch Notes on Melville down at the drug store. God that drug store. God, that man was sure boring.
"Well, I'm certainly glad to hear it. You didn't have any trouble finding the place, did you?"
"No Ma'am. Your directions were real clear."
He was studying her living room with open approval. She really knew how to decorate. And everything looked real new and modern. Polished. And real classy. That was how it struck him. Lots of class.
She showed him to the couch, and sat beside him. She made no move to open any of the books on the coffee table. He felt dumb and so he opened his notebook. She moved just a little closer to him as she leaned over to see what he had brought with him.
"Now as I was telling you the other day in school, I like what you've said here about his portrayal of society, how he's almost political in the way he talks in real unflattering terms about the style of life he was portraying."
She seemed to Steve to be reciting memorized words. She also seemed nervous. Her voice was too carefree, gay.
"I think I have some other things I found, that I could talk about along those lines," he said, trying to sound as scholarly as he could. She leafed through his notes, leaning back onto the couch, and he studied her body. Once she caught him staring right at her tits, but only smiled. Man he was horney!! !
"Listen, would you like something to drink?" she asked after little while. "I can offer you Coke, orange juice, iced tea ... or something ... stronger, if that's what you're into."
Steve felt the hairs rise on the back of his head. Go for the booze, go for the booze, a voice was screaming at him from somewhere deep in his brain.
"Uh, gee ... what do you have. That's ... stronger, I mean?"
"Weeeell ... " she said slowly, examining what was obviously a well stocked liquor cabinet. On closer inspection, he noticed that most of the bottles were full and the vodka and gin hadn't even been opened. Recently stocked? For him, maybe?
"How about some good old whiskey sours?" she asked.
"Wow, that sounds great. How'd you know that was my favorite drink?" he asked, congratulating himself for coming up with that twist.
She made drinks and they sipped them for awhile. Steve made a gesture towards the table, but she took his hand. Her eyes were fully on him; he returned her gaze.
"Steve, have you thought about what happened, between us in the classroom the other day?"
"Urn, yes Miss Perkins. I sure have. I've thought about it a lot."
"Well ... " she left it open for him to continue.
He felt shy all of a sudden. God, she was his teacher, after all. And he was trying to talk about fucking to her. Fucking her, of course, but still; you just didn't talk about those things to teachers.
"I still don't know if it was right, what we did and all."
"Well, would you rather I never mentioned it again, and we'll just forget it happened? I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."
Don't blow this, he told himself. Choose your words damn carefully. The silence stretched on; seconds seemed like hours. Then, he answered in a rush.
"Miss Perkins; you've got the most delicious damn body I've ever seen in my life!" It was out before he even knew what he was saying. His mouth dropped open. He felt himself blush. She didn't even blink, just kept on with that little smile she'd been working him with.
"Well; would you believe I'm glad to hear you say that."
"You ... are?" he asked. Of course she was! He hoped.
"Yes." She sipped her drink. "I don't want you to feel guilty about making love to me. If you do, I refuse to put ... pressure on you. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Yes, Miss Perkins. I ... I guess I don't feel guilty; it's just that it seems so damn weird."
"Does it really?" her grin turned to open amusement. She was enjoying this. That's O.K. he told himself. She was going to get what she wanted.
"I'm not sure if I should consider that a compliment or not."
"Oh, Miss Perkins; please don't take it wrong. God, you're beautiful, and you've been real nice to me and everything ... I mean, it was great. Really! It was. I haven't thought about anything else for three days. I'm not kidding. But, I mean, I have to go to your class during the day, and I'll be honest with you, I don't even know how to look at you."
"I've noticed you've been real quiet lately in class. You didn't raise your hand once, yesterday or today."
"I know ... like I said, it feels real weird. I mean, I've never ... fucked a teacher before."
She lowered her voice.
"I know of one teacher you've fucked before." She watched his every reaction. He knew of at least two that should be evident without even looking. One was the blush that was once again creeping over his face; the other was his dick. Yep, there it goes, slithering around in there like a big snake, charmed by the lyrical sound of her voice. She dropped her eyes to his crotch.
"Looks like we have a guest."
"Uh, yeah ... I guess we do, don't we. Miss Perkins, I just can't hide what you do to me."
"Good." As she said it, her voice sounded throaty, heavy with lust. Hang on Steve old boy, he thought, this is another ride coming up, and it sure may surpass the first one.
She moved to his crotch, pulled out the swelling prick, all the while keeping up a steady stream of soothing, teacherly chatter.
"I'll just bet this aches real bad doesn't it. Sure, you're at that age aren't you ... always hot and horney ... always thinking about a girl to fuck ... always wanting a pair of tits to play with, isn't that so?
He made no reply, only stared at her in wonder. This was really happening. Goddam; it was really happening. She was tickling his cock! And did she know how to do it. Real light. Almost not touching at all. Just up and down and around the whole thing, like a flock of birds was flying around it.
"What you need is someone who understands, who is sympathetic to the kinds of pressures you find yourself facing these days. Well, I understand; I know what a young boy like you needs. You need a woman who knows you. A woman who knows how to take some of the pressure off. A woman who knows how to make you feel good."
She spoke in an almost hypnotic steady tone, whispering some words, nearly singing others. He liked the way her tongue licked around her lips; not obscenely, like in fuck films. She had class. Real class. She also had her face almost touching his cock. Her tongue slip out of her mouth and lapped at the juice already spilling out of him like a kitten at a saucer of milk. His balls tingled and he felt the muscle at the base of his cock jerk into a squeezing contraction. More juice oozed from the opening. She rubbed a little on her bottom lip, licked it off and rubbed the rest on her tongue. The head of his cock was turning a deep red as his cock reached its full erection. He watched, still silent with amazement as first the head, then the rest of the shaft vanished into her mouth. He felt a passionate suction work on the entire rod. She was amazing.
Unbuckling his jeans with the engorged cock still in her mouth, she pulled them down to his knees. Then she sat up and smiled. A big beautiful smile.
"Let's get naked."
He watched as she opened the knot keeping the two halves of her halter together. They jiggled with her breasts and fell aside. What a pair he thought. So full ... and tan all over too. He made a note to check out her sun bathing spot as soon as possible.
"Take them," she said, offering one in each hand. "Take them and do whatever you want to them."
As he started sucking on the hard brown points of her nipples, she worked his legs free of his jeans, unbuttoned his shirt and it too slipped from his body. He was naked but for his jockey shorts, with his throbbing cock still sticking through the fly. She unbuttoned her pants and slipped his hand under the material. She wore no underwear. Her pussy was drenched.
"I really turn you on, don't I?" he asked, still amazed that this was happening.
"Suck my tits and find out. Oh please suck them. Hard. OH GOD YES!! ! LIKE THAT!! ! !
OHHHH OOOHHHHHH OHHHHHHHHH YES SUCK THEM!"
He dropped the tit from his mouth, so surprised was he at this outburst. He'd only did what she wanted, sucked as hard as he possibly could. Boy! She really was worked up. It was a little scary, but damned exciting.
"Keep sucking them. Please. As hard as you can. And don't stop!! "
She both begged and commanded him. Gladly, he started chewing on a nipple and felt her body go crazy next to him. Her pelvis arched up into his hand and she threw her head back with a far away look and simply started groaning and gasping like she was in pain. Maybe she was, he thought, biting real hard. She screamed. But didn't make him stop. He bit again. She shook and whimpered. He could make out her words, though just barely.
"Yes yes, harder, harder, hurt me, hurt me."
He wasn't sure just how to take this. Did she want him to really hurt her, of was she just playing along. Was he hurting her? Maybe. But that's what tits were made for anyway. It wasn't like there was anything you could break with them. Still biting one nipple, he gave the other one a real hard pinch. Again she screamed, and as he kept it up, her screams just got louder and louder and then she was writhing on the couch like a fish on a hook and Steve just kept on pinching the fuck out of those sweet little titties and even slapped until he wasn't sure, but he thought she had actually come. Her screams got louder and louder until all of a sudden, her voice simply shut off, but her face twisted all out of shape, and noises escaped from her throat, as if what really wanted to come out was just too huge for her to deal with and everything had just shut down. Her pussy went totally off the deep end, digging itself back and forth on his hand till he was coated in her thick juice. God it felt good. He couldn't get used to seeing a woman like this. He guessed none of the girls he'd fucked had ever really come. At least they didn't look as excited as what he was seeing now.
Then she was still, breathing deeply and fast, but still. Steve pulled his hand out of her pants and with her legs kicked up in the air, he pulled her pants off and gazed at her quivering quim. She was spread wide in front of him, beckoning him on with her eyes.
"Fuck me, Steve." He pulled off his jockey shorts. "Fuck me," she said again, and he was on her, sticking the swollen meat into her warm flesh. She was wet and wiggling.
"YES!" she screamed, as soon as he was in. "OH GOD YES!" she screamed at his first full thrust. "OH YES," she moaned, rolling her hips to his. They pulled away from each other, slammed back, pulled away and slammed back. She had the movements down; he was aware of following her lead. She was crashing back at him harder now, faster, very fast, a small whimper slipping out each time she raised her hips and the sides of his cock grazed through the pasture of her cunt at its leisure.
Already, his balls were racing ahead of him. He felt the knife-edge intensity of the first orgasmic jolt, felt his cock contract wildly at the base, felt the spasms driving his load up the tube of stiff flesh and felt her pussy get real slippery as his cum bathed her entire insides. She was berserk. That was the only way to describe her. Utterly berserk. She must be coming again already he thought and kept on fucking back when his cock showed no signs of post-orgasmic wilt.
"Oh," was what he said to her. Face it, you don't call your teacher a slutty bitch, even if your are fucking her. Uh-oh, don't want to come to soon oh god too late here it comes--!
This second orgasm seem to be dragged kicking and screaming from the very bottoms of his balls. The flash of coming seemed to drag on forever, his body taut, his breath quick and hard. She was still fucking like mad on him, and he just let her, feeling each contraction as it shot more cum through his dick. It was great. She was so slippery from his cum now that she had to work even harder to feel him in her and she did, crushing her clitoris up against his crotch, seeming to want to smother the life out of it. But it must have done something, because she kept it there, rubbing hips and cunt madly into his body, straining for the last sensations before he finally started to go limp. When he at last pulled out of her, his dick was coated with her juice and his cum. Still semi-stiff, it slowly lowered, until it nestled back against his balls, drops slowly falling from it.
His teacher was almost unconscious. He touched her on the leg and she jerked at the contact. Still alive, he thought. He wondered what he should do now.
She soon regained her composure, but immediately grabbed onto his cock and started hammering at it with her enclosing fist, trying to beat it to attention again.
"I want this. I want this. I'm not through with this yet" she said with awesome determination. She managed to revive him only half-way, but it was enough for her and she worked the thing back into her cunt and started fucking away again. As she did, Steve felt her having a noticeable effect for the walls of her cunt slowly grew tighter around him. He dug deeply this time, for he was past coming, was simply a stiff fucking machine, capable of going forever. Again and again he plunged into her, driving her to the heights of ecstasy. She was beyond knowing anything but the pounding of his cock and he pounded as hard as he could.
She stretched her tits, rolled the nipples between her fingers, cried and gasped for breath. There were no words coming from her tortured lips now, only incoherent babble and gibberish. It thrilled him to hear her reduced to such a mindless state. Tits and cunt, he thought. That's all women really were, tits and a cunt, both of which needed to be thoroughly worked over, often.
He pulled back, nearly letting the head of his dick drop away from her yearning lips, then plowed back for a final series of thrusts that set off the most spectacular display of fucking fireworks she yet showed him. Her body whipped about like a flag in the wind. Her tits flew freely through the air about them, shaking deliriously with each entry.
"Ooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh god god god god god GOD FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME!! " And then she was lost in her mighty orgasm, completely leveled by the power it unleashed inside her.
He wasn't even sure if he'd come a third time or not, so intently was he watching the show she put on for him. As he pulled out for the third time, she made a small noise, sensing that she'd driven his magnificent machine to its limits.
"God, I love what you do to my body," she said, still short of breath.
"I sure enjoy doing it to you Miss Perkins. I sure do." He was lost in the glorious feel of his cock tingling between his legs, lost in the sight of her naked body, so recently the willing victim of his savage assault. He'd fucked her and fucked her good and he knew it beyond any doubt. There was no doubt in his mind: this woman was his. If only he could figure out what to do with her.
Julia Perkins had her own ideas, but she wasn't worrying about it now. They both lay there, silently, she stroking his hair, he rubbing her tits, saying little. The room was still fully washed in light. So driven had they been that they'd bothered with no preliminaries at all. No lowering of lights, no soft music, no drawing of curtains or lowering of window shades.
Even if it had occurred to either of them to look at the window, they probably would have seen nothing. The night was too dark, the room too bright. Maybe they'd have seen a quick movement, nothing more. It would never have seemed like any danger lurked outside.
They lay together like that for a half hour more; Julia with her legs spread wide, toying with Steve's cock, he with his hand resting on her cunt. But by the time they rose and began to dress, the person who'd watched in the safety of the shadows beyond the glass was gone the pictures recorded safely on film, the next step in an evil plan already taking shape.
CHAPTER FOUR
Julia sipped her coffee, listened to the local DJ spin out morning madness and pretended to work on her lesson plan. Other teachers came and went at random intervals. The teacher's lounge was a noisy place, a more mature kind of noise than the corridors of Clinton High School, to be sure, but noisy nonetheless. Dave Ketchum, history teacher and basketball coach, played backgammon with Yvonne Stratton, the new math teacher. The small group clustered around them broke into enthusiastic cheers at the various rolls of the dice. Julia noticed Dave Ketchum eyeing her as he played. She'd gone out with him occasionally, once to a movie and a couple of dinner dates, but nothing had ever come of it, primarily through her own lack of interest. She knew he still had the hots for her.
She saw him coming her way after the game. Sighing, she buried her face deeper in her plan book, but he was not to be put off that easily.
"Hey Julia; how's tricks." He said it with a leering smile that gave her an uncertain feeling in her stomach. She didn't like this man, to be frank about it and she wished he'd leave her alone.
"Hello Dave," she said trying to sound as bored as she could.
"Getting ready for the brats, are you," he said, and his cozy familiarity annoyed her.
"As a matter-of-fact, I am. And I still have a lot to do." She returned to her book.
"O.K., O.K.;" he sounded hurt but she knew it was just an act.
"Look, I'm sorry Dave. I don't mean to be rude, but I am behind in my plan book, and you know how Henry is about that." Henry, being Henry Scroggins, principal. However varied the faculty at Clinton High School may be in their other interests and attitudes, all were united in their belief that Henry Scroggins was a low-potential under-achiever who kept his job merely because he'd married into the family of the current Superintendent of Public Instruction.
"Know what you mean, know what you mean," Dave agreed. "Say, I hear you've got a star pupil these days."
"Oh, really?" she said casually, a knot suddenly forming in her stomach. "Who might that be?"
"The Tanner kid, right? I understand you re priming him to be a real scholar." He kept the leer on his face. Or was she imagining it? No doubt about it, she was getting paranoid.
"He's a bright boy. A refreshing deviation from the usual garbage that dribbles through here."
She leaned into the word 'dribbles' knowing it would bother him. Her disdain for school sports as a waste of time and money was well known.
"Well, they say he's a talented kid. Played football for a couple of years; then he just got bored with it."
"I know. He found out that he had a mind."
"That's a good one. He found out that he had something, but it was at the other end of his body; that's what I think. He quit the squad just about the time he started going steady with Susan Reed. That's the trouble with these kids. They tell themselves they're thinking and making decisions, but they're really just proving that we're nothing more than elaborate apes. Yep; the bottom line's always how to get laid. That's what history teaches us Julia, that getting laid is the one single motivating factor that unites all of man's endeavors as a civilized creature. It's true."
"Dave, please. I really have to get this done."
"O.K. Well look, good luck with your ... student." He grinned again as he said it, but she refused to let it bother. The man's an ass, she thought.
He smiled at her as he said this, his eyes had a knowing look. It was almost as if he was telling her something.
Still, his references to Steve gave her a start. He couldn't suspect anything could he? She didn't think so. Nonetheless, she hurried from the lounge, feeling all at once a need to walk alone, undisturbed while she thought about th One thing was certain, she told herself. This was madness. How had she in the time span of a mere week, traveled so far within herself? Did she have a right to pursue such a doomed effort, to the obvious harm of several people? No matter, she could no more help herself than could an addict. After two times with his body, she was hooked and she couldn't rationalize it away by calling it something else. She wanted that boy. Badly.
But what about him? What was good for him right now? Probably to finish high school, go on to college and maybe, if he fulfilled the storybook conditions that seemed to form his very soul, marry his high school sweetheart somewhere along the way and live happily ever after with three kids and a mortgage. That left no room for good old Julia Perkins at all and that was no way for her own story to turn out. So, then, what? What was she to do? Did he really have a hope of getting this paper of his published? She doubted it. She knew he was a potentially bright scholar, but he'd need a lot of serious study before he was able to compete in the academic world as an equal. It happened; and no denying it, if he could publish while still in high school, it would be a great boost for him when he tried to get into college.
But she was leading him on and the fact bothered her. What right did she have to tamper with a person's life, one she was sworn to develop and nurture? What right, indeed. What about the way he grabbed her breasts, the way he pumped and pumped her cunt till it felt she'd pass out? What about that? Yeah, conscience never had an answer for questions like that, did it? What about her? Didn't she have a right to taste something of life? At any rate, she'd tasted something of his cock and wanted more. Lots more. More fucking, more coming. She was tired of masturbating herself to sleep late at night. She was sick of feeling like half a person, through a lack of a man who knew how to treat her body. She wanted to become whole. Somehow, this boy was the way through her solitude. She would keep him.
She was still thinking of him that afternoon after school when he came to the classroom. He was a far cry from the self conscious, fumbling boy with an unruly erection who'd come this same way only days before. While he still treated her with respect, he was easier with her, friendlier.
"Hi, Miss Perkins. You mentioned something about your car being in the shop today in class so I thought I'd come by and see if you needed a lift home."
She considered his offer. It might not be wise to be seen leaving the school grounds with him. It might be dangerous. It might also be nothing more than an innocent act. Teachers weren't supposed to treat their students like non-people, as soon as the last bell rang at the end of the day. Why not accept a ride, offered in good faith. Why should anyone think anything at all. A perfectly harmless situation. Wasn't it? Well, of course not, but why would anyone have reason suspect that things were any different than they appeared to be?
"That's very thoughtful of you Steve. I'd like that a lot."
As they were walking down the hallway towards the parking lot, they heard a voice call out behind them.
"Oh Steve, Steve. Wait up." They turned and saw Suzy Reed. The quarterback of the Clinton High Maulers, Wally Joe Jordham was with her. He seemed to be carrying her books. Suzy was interested only in Steve. Wally Joe, on the other hand, stared lewdly at Julia. She felt the knot in her stomach again, larger and more intense this time.
"Studying again," she asked, a nasty tone in her voice.
"Hello Suzy. What do you want?"
"What makes you think I want anything from you? Actually, that's a question I might want to ask some other people, if you know what I mean."
"Steve, I think maybe I'd better just talk to you tomorrow about this paper. It looks like you have business to take care of."
"Oh, Miss Perkins, don't leave on my account." She was sarcastic and insolent.
"You watch your tone with me young lady or I'll have you on detention so fast it'll make your teeth rattle. I don't know exactly what your problem is, but I'll tell you right now, you're skating on thin ice with me. You got that?" If the girl thought she could intimidate Julia, she'd been wrong. Still, the teacher recognized an open threat when she saw it and knew the time to diffuse the situation was now.
"Steve, that's quite all right. I'll just call a cab." She looked at Suzy with a condescending look of disgust. "Some people have a real problem separating fantasy from reality."
"That's right, Miss Perkins. They DO!" She turned to Steve. "I have some things of yours. When are you going to come over and get them?"
"Look, Suzy; this is silly. We don't need to deal with this now." Steve looked at Wally Joe, who was easily 6' 6" and nearly as wide. "I don't want any trouble with you. I just don't want to be hassled."
Suzy looked at Wally Joe. "Do you hear that? They don't want to be hassled."
The use of the word 'they' was not lost on Julia.
"Sounds fine by me," Wally Joe said, a large grin on his face as he regarded Julia. "Whatever you say's fine with me." He smiled.
Julia couldn't tell if he said it to Suzy or herself. It didn't matter. These two could be dealt with later, in a more fitting fashion. Right now, the attack was direct, the threat clearly stated. A frontal assault demanded similar response.
"Young man, if you want to play any more football while you're in school, you will clean up your act. NOW! Do you hear me?"
"What have I done?" he asked, trying to sound innocent and unjustly wounded.
"You think it isn't common knowledge that you've been playing under the grade point average? You think the whole faculty isn't aware that you get the answers to Dave Ketchum's history tests? You think such a procedure isn't well known? It's just a question of ... " She paused for effect ... "keeping quiet, for the good of all. Do you understand perfectly what I'm saying? Because if you don't, let me assure you, you simple minded lunk, that after I'm finished with you, the only way you'll get back into school is as a janitor. And you'd better believe every word I say. So get lost, clown, and watch your step."
This unexpected hard line caught them both by surprise. Suzy seemed to wilt a little, and Wally Joe, mumbled a low apology.
"I didn't mean anything like disrespect or nothing, Ma'am. I'm sorry if I got on your nerves or anything. I really am."
"Well, I don't mind telling both of you, that this little scene is very disgusting. I won't even address myself to anything you might have been insinuating. I'm shocked and amazed that people could be so small minded and vicious." She turned to Steve. "Again Steve, I appreciate the offer of a ride, but under the circumstances, I'd be better off paying for a cab. I really don't think I can afford to let you do me a favor."
She gave Suzy and Wally Joe a hard look, and walked towards the pay phones in front of the school. As she left them, she heard the three begin to talk loudly, mostly Suzy and Steve. Then Wally Joe joined in. She turned back around and saw Steve and Wally Joe squaring off for a fight.
"That's enough!! " she shouted as loudly as she could. She stormed back to the three of them. "Break this up immediately. I'll have all three of you in the principals office tomorrow. Do as I say. Now!! "
She was as short with Steve as with the other two. Look like I'm being partial to him, she thought, and I blow my whole case.
Wally Joe and Suzy skulked off. Steve looked worried.
"I think she knows, Miss Perkins. I really do."
"Nonsense," she assured him, not believing her words for a minute. Somehow, Steve's jilted girlfriend had learned of their affair. If that's what it could be called. Dave Ketchum's words in the teacher's lounge came back to her with blinding force now. She hadn't imagined it. He was leering at her for the same reason Wally Joe and Suzy had. Someone knew something and she had to do something in reply. But what?
"Steve, I need to think about this. Don't worry about anything. Call me tonight, will you."
She gave him her number and called a cab.
As she made herself dinner that night, the bizarre confrontation of that afternoon replayed itself over and over again in her mind. She was frightened. Undeniably. And she knew she was at a major disadvantage. She would come out of this in the worst shape of all, for she would lose everything. Even though she'd been willing to give up Clinton High School, she'd wanted it to be on her own terms, not a forced resignation in disgrace.
But that's what it would amount to. Shame and degradation. And an utter waste of everything she'd done thus far with her life. She looked at her watch and wondered if Steve would call. She wanted to talk to him, as much to hear his voice as to plot strategy. For what strategy could either of them mount that would be effective, if someone could prove what had gone on? But could they? Could they do any more than simply make accusations? She doubted it.
The possibility chilled her blood, however. The fear of steps irrevocably taken, that must now be hidden, never undone. She was still waiting for the phone to ring when instead the chimes from the door bell sounded in the hallway.
It was Suzy Reed. They looked at each other in silence, and Julia knew that whatever leverage she'd enjoyed this afternoon as a teacher was absent now. This was a meeting of equals, of lovers fighting over the same man. Both knew it. The unspoken message was clear. The barriers were down, all pretense thrown out on the trash heap.
"I'd like to talk to you." No 'Miss Perkins', no effort to be polite.
"I'm not sure this is wise, Suzy. You're asking for a lot more trouble than you realize."
"Oh, there's trouble in store, MISS Perkins. Lots of it. But not for me. Now, do I come in, or do you take your chance with what I may or may not know?"
The girl took the attack from the start. O.K., thought Julia; let's see where this takes us.
"All right, Suzy. Since you insist. Come in. You have five minutes."
Once inside, Suzy's manner became even more aggressive.
"Don't tell me how much time I have. I tell you how much time you have. Do you understand me. I do the talking. You listen."
Julia was shocked at her attitude.
"Suzy, I'm going to throw you out of here. Right now. I do not have to put up with this. I want you to know I'm going to see Henry Scroggins in the morning about this. I'm going to put a stop to it before things get out of hand."
"Who do you think you're kidding? GOD!! I can't get over your gall. Let me put it in simple terms, MISS Perkins. You are finished here. FINISHED!! You get out of this school and out of Clinton, or you'll be sorry. Go to Scroggins if you want. I assure you, I'll be in there waiting for you when you get there, and I know he'd find a few things interesting. Verry interesting."
"All right Suzy, cut the crap. Let's get down to cases, shall we? Now, I'm sorry you and Steve broke up. I realize that for some insane reason, you blame me, and if my efforts to help Steve advance the possibilities in his life have taken up some of his time, I feel bad about it for you but I won't apologize for it. Steve's a grown up and can make his own decisions. Your sense of proportion is way out of whack."
"That sounds good, Miss Perkins. Real good. You left out one important item. It's not Steve's mind you're trying to advance, is it. No, you've got other things in store for him, don't you. What did you do? How did you do it? Did you get him into your classroom and seduce him, or did you ask him to drive you home and do it here? Huh? What did you do t him. What did you do to him you stupid slut?! ! How have you warped him so?"
She lost control for a second and Julia thought she would break down into hysterical sobbing, but the girl regained control fast and was lashing out again. "You're a low form of life, Miss Perkins. You use people. You destroy people. You destroyed Steve."
Now the girl really did begin to cry. Julia wisely held back from answering until she'd calmed the panic within her. Suzy was in a chair, her body shaking uncontrollably from the very heavy sobs that welled up from her breast. Julia kept silent till the girl's crying eased.
"I don't know how to tell you this in any other way than I've already tried. Suzy, you've imagined some horrible ugly thing between Steve and I, and I want to tell you, it's dangerous. You're playing with people's lives, and it doesn't seem to me that you have much idea of what you're doing."
"STOP IT!! ! " The girl was wild now. Her eyes were losing their focus.
"JUST STOP ALL THIS BULLSHIT!! ! You don't fool anyone. It's all over school already. Or don't you hear anything? You've been fucking Steve, and it's out, and there's nothing you can do about it. It's over, Miss Perkins. Over. I have proof." didn't know how she could keep up the detached teacher pose much longer. This girl was on fire and Julia was going to need some heat of her own to come out of this at all intact.
"What proof."
"Ha ha!! So you admit there's something to prove."
"Suzy, let's stop the games. If you think you have something that puts Steve and I in a compromising position, let's see it. I have no fears about defending myself. You'll only damage your own reputation and make a fool of yourself, but if that's what you're determined to do, I can't stop you."
"I'll tell you what I'm going to do, MISS Perkins. I'm going to give you until tomorrow at noon to quit your job. Then I'm going to the principal, the Board of Public Instruction and the newspapers. That's what I'm going to do."
"And what will you take with you, that's so incriminating?" Julia felt tired. She wanted this to be over.
"The only way you'll find that out is to ignore what I say. Take my word for it, bitch, you are finished. FINISHED!! ! "
Julia didn't even think as she slapped the girl. Suzy's eyes grew wide from shock. Julia herself was stunned. But there was no turning back. The girl was a threat., a dangerous threat and had to be eliminated. '
"You're getting ready to find out just how big a job you've taken on, you scum ridden little brat." Julia literally growled the words and loosened her shirt as she stepped closer to Suzy, who backed away.
"You stay away from me, you whore!! "
Julia swung again, not even aiming. Her hand struck Suzy squarely on her small, adolescent breasts. A cry of pain broke from the girl's throat.
"Oh God, you whore, you shitty bitch. That hurt."
"You're damn straight it hurt. Do you think I'm going to let you get away with this? You don't think I see through your rotten little scheme? You bit off more than you could chew this time, you filthy spoiled brat "Don't be so sure of that, bitch."
Suzy suddenly lashed out with her fingernails at Julia's face. She missed Julia's face but caught hold of her shirt and ripped a large hole in the material. Julia gasped and grabbed the other arm, twisting it till the girl was forced around and onto her knees. She began to cry and scream hysterically.
"LET ME GO LET ME GO I'LL KILL YOU, I'LL KILL YOU!! ! "
Julia was astonished at Suzy's strength. By sheer force alone, she managed to break her hold and all at once there was a mighty clashing of bodies and a wild flaying of arms and legs as the two met in hand to hand combat.
The girl fought with every resource at her command and they were considerable. Clothes ripped with a jarring sound, bodies knocked together, grunts and cries of anguish filled the room.
Julia was on the floor now, Suzy locking her neck with her legs, tightly wrapping them around her. The girl had torn her shirt from her completely and her breasts bobbled wildly as they rolled around on the floor. Julia reached around and yanked on Suzy's hair. A hard vicious tug that slackened the tension for an instant around her neck and they were again both on their feet, circling each other like two tigresses, each seeking a kill.
Suzy dove at Julia, who sidestepped easily and grabbed as the girl flew past. More clothing tore. Julia saw that Suzy's skirt had been pulled half off her body and immediately grabbed again and pulled the material off the young body.
"You bitch, you'll regret that," said Suzy menacingly.
"So come teach me a lesson, brat."
"I'll teach you a lesson," and the girl was on her again. More clothing tore, each of them trying in some way to humiliate the other by exposing them.
They struggled mercilessly with each other for nearly an hour. Finally, they each wore only panties, and Julia's had a big hole torn in the side of those. They were dripping in sweat. Julia was atop Suzy now, the girl struggling insanely beneath her. She straddled Suzy at the waist and as the girls body bucked and jerked in her efforts to free herself, Julia felt her cunt respond to the vibrations of the fight. Only half aware of what she was doing, she began to thrust back with her hips, rising in tension as they became more and more committed to each other's destruction.
Suzy managed to work a leg under Julia's, and swung it up over the teacher's shoulders and as Julia twisted her body, they formed interlocking V's crushed together at the points. Julia's cunt was crushed up against Suzy's now and as they struggled, Julia began to strike madly at the girl's exposed breasts. Suzy swung back, digging her claws into Julia's huge mounds of quivering tit flesh. The friction of cunt against cunt was working on them both, but rather than translating into sexual arousal, it merely fanned the flames of passionate anger already raging.
Julia was sitting up. One leg extended beneath Suzy's body, the other clamped down tightly across her stomach locking the girl's pelvis in a vise. Suzy's legs were wrapped about Julia's hips and they crushed tighter and tighter into each other. Suzy was grunting with the sounds of struggle, but Julia noticed a new tone rising with their fury, the sound of arousal. She worked her cunt faster against the girl's and in spite of her anger and hatred, felt a thrill as she felt the girl work back.
"Oh God," Suzy moaned, thrusting harder and faster. "Oh, oh, oh, oh, Oh God, oh OH OH OH," again and again as Julia worked the rhythms of the body wrapped in her legs. She reached down and gave a viscous twist to Suzy's breasts, and as the girl screamed "You piece of .shit," her cunt thrust into Julia's.
Driven by the heat of their rage, they continued to attack each other with their pussies, but the result was becoming more and more sexual. Julia, not even aware of what was happening, felt her body tense for an orgasm.
And then Suzy had Julia's tits in each hand, squeezing. She was coming, coming madly into her panties, the silken surfaces growing slippery from the cunt juice flowing through.
Wild now, they tore at these last barriers between them, and, caught up in passionate thrusts neither could control now, their open cunt lips met in a good kiss. Their mouths did-likewise. Tongues and clitorises embraced and rubbed over each other in the slippery heat of sex and hatred. Nothing could stop them. They ground their hips at each other and rubbed their cunts together, mixing flesh and juice till it seemed they would merge. Suzy came again and again, but Julia, lost in her own orgasms took no note. The two of them were focused only on the intermingled cunt flesh that drove them on and sustained their energy.
Again Julia dug at the cunt she straddled, again it thrust back at her. Hands grasped and pulled at tits, fingernails planed off pieces of skin; still they struggled for orgasm after orgasm. Finally, reduced to sheer passion and emotion, they fell into each other and kissed, long and hard, feeling only the tongues interweaving with each other and the slippery presence of the other's pussy.
Suddenly, Suzy pulled away. She was breathing hard and glowered at Julia with unconcealed loathing.
"You really are a whore, aren't you. You'll do anything for it."
Suzy sounded nauseous as she spoke and all at once buried her face in her hands. She began to weep, deep shattering sobs that shook her body unrelentingly. Her small hard breasts jiggled with each quaking jerk. Julia let her go for a moment then gently began to stroke the worn out girl's hair. It was soaking wet.
"It's all right, Suzy, it's all right," she soothed.
Wholly vulnerable now, her emotions stripped bare, her nerves raw and exposed, Suzy turned a tear-stained face to Julia.
"You've made me as filthy as you. You've soiled me with your slime." Julia said nothing, simply looked at Suzy until the girl met her gaze.
"Suzy, take my hand," Julia quietly commanded.
Suzy's body began to tremble. Her eyes watched as her arm began to rise, almost as if directed by external forces she was not even aware of, much less able to control. Her hand reached out, her fingers were extended. Julia's met hers and their fingers intertwined and clasped tightly to each other. Suzy stared at the two clenched, merged hands in mute horror. Tears rolled freely down her face. She sobbed at random intervals. She made a feeble effort to pull back her hand, but Julia refused to yield and Suzy meekly gave up, allowing her arm to go limp, supported only by Julia's hand holding hers.
"Look at me Suzy. I said LOOK AT ME!! " She tightened her grip on Suzy's hand and the girl dragged her eyes across Julia's body, at last meeting her eyes.
Julia touched her cheek with her free hand. She felt Suzy recoil at the touch but she didn't resist much. Julia gently caressed the wet cheek beneath her fingers, all the while holding Suzy's eyes rigid with her own.
As Julia leaned forward to kiss her, a moan of resistance escaped the girl's lips, but Julia took her by the back of her neck and held her in a tight grip till she felt the muscles beneath once again relax. Then she kissed the frightened student, kissed her hard and long, with a deeply felt passion. She felt Suzy hold back, then return the kiss, tentatively at first, then with an increasingly reckless abandon, opening and closing her lips, rolling around with her face to better meet her teacher's lips. Her breathing came harder and Julia let go of the hand she'd been holding. It immediately sought out a breast but not to savage this time; Julia felt a tender touch, a searching caress and she in turn let her hand wander down the girl's body, resting finally at the wet parted pussy lips that still were enclosed in Julia's crotch.
Suzy moved back and got to her knees. She looked at Julia in fear, confusion and with heavy lust in her eyes. The combination was a real turn-on for Julia and she slipped a finger up Suzy's cunt. The girl's eyes closed and she moaned.
Julia knew then that she was back in control, that she could drive the girl to any vow desired, if only she played the body at her fingertips properly. And play her she did, played her like a jazzman tickling the ivory, like a flutist blowing soft delicate melodies, like a drummer beating out a hard relentless pounding. Suzy let herself go completely, became soft and pliable beneath Julia's exquisite touch. Higher and higher, never letting her come, kissing her breasts, licking her pussy, rubbing her clit, forcing her to shove her tongue deep into Julia's cunt, closer and closer, each time falling back till at last the girl was begging.
"Oh god, please, please, don't stop please don't stop take me take me oh please, make me come I want to come please fuck me."
Never ceasing the gentle tickle at Suzy's clit, Julia leaned low to her ear and whispered "We'll have no more foolishness about Steve, will we."
"Oh god ... oh ... god ... my cunt, my cunt make it come MAKE ME COME!! ! "
She thrust her hips against Julia's hand, but Julia was quick and pulled away. Suzy was crying now, begging for release through the tears.
"Oh god, anything, I'll do anything you say anything."
"You love it, don't you?"
"Yes, I LOVE IT!! ! Please let me come."
"You want it, don't you?" Julia pulled her hand away and struck with the flat of her palm sharply against Suzy's partially upturned buttock.
"YES I WANT IT. FUCK ME YOU BITCH. FUCK ME TILL I DIE. JUST FUCK ME."
"You'll never say another word about this, will you?"
"No. I swear." The girl's words could hardly be understood, so urgent was the force expelling them.
Julia dug her fingers into the wet pussy. Suzy screamed in ecstasy.
"Do you want more?"
"YES," begged Suzy.
Slowly, Julia worked the cunt juice into a lather, digging steadily harder till Suzy was whimpering non-stop, rolling her hips with the force of Julia's manipulation. When she came, it was in a burst of uncontrolled fury. She let out a long scream that eased off into a long moan that continued till her lungs were exhausted of all air. She gasped a deep breath and immediately continued her moaning.
"Oh Jesus, of god, oh it's wonderful fuck my cunt fuck it fuck it fuck it fuck it harder HARDER HARDER!! " and Julia brought her to another climax.
When it subsided, Suzy said nothing for a long while. She moved not a muscle. Julia leaned back, her breasts jutting out defiantly, mocking the girl almost. See, they seemed to be saying, these are the breasts of a woman. These are what men like. You might as well admit it, you're a child and are out of your element in this, little girl.
Suzy stared at Julia, at her awesome breasts, at her spread legs and shimmering pussy lips, parted and pink and wet with lust and triumph. You are mine, little girl, they seem to taunt. When we beckon, you will do whatever we ask. Her eyes lowered in resignation.
"I think you should get dressed now Suzy. I think you should get dressed and I think we should try to forget what you came over here for. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?
She was meek. "Yes, Miss Perkins. I understand."
She dressed silently. As if to underscore exactly what it was that had taken place tonight, Julia kissed her long and hard once more before she left. There was no resistance. Julia slept well that night. Her mind was floating in the euphoria an unexpected reprieve. But even more, her cunt was aglow in the sensation sexual release and sexual triumph.
CHAPTER FIVE
Steve Tanner's cock was huge. Or so Julia discovered, once more to her amazement, each time the got her hands on it. Just now, she was of all places, in the back seat of his car. Yes, astounding but true.
Here I am, she told herself, Julia Perkins, teacher, citizen, contributing her small share to society, and all the while seducing the very soul out of this boy. Who, it must be admitted, minded not one bit. As a matter-of-fact, he had encouraged this meeting and she'd agreed at once. There was business to discuss, serious matters to be dealt with. The pace of events was quickening. They needed to keep on top of things.
At the moment, she was on top of him and his swollen cock poked between her legs as they straddled his waist. His trousers and shirt were in a rumpled ball on the floor. Her dress was tossed carelessly over the front seat. The windows, of course, were heavily fogged over. It had been much easier than she'd have believed to put the pressing matters at hand in the back of her mind, instead wondering whether or not she could teach him how to hold his ejaculation and drive her to even more intense orgasms than he'd already proved capable of doing. It was simply a question of spiritual priorities, she thought, preparing to move the head of his cock down from her clitoris where she'd been beating it merrily into herself, down through the wet slit and up up and away into a wild flight of fucking. Fucking. Ah, fucking. How fully it eclipsed the rest of the working worrying world. It was the moon finally breaking from behind an overcast night sky. It was the sweet taste of water to a traveler stranded in the desert. It was-oh god, it was an awesome stuffed feeling, this stretching of cunt walls, this wild slipping of flesh over flesh, this ... yes, oh yes it was Steve Tanner's big dick up her cunt, that's what it was and she loved it.
Not that he had the faintest idea what he was doing. As technique went, he was essentially playing 'Chopsticks' on a scale that included Beethoven's Emperor Concerto. One-night Frat house stands in college had proved more adept at the delicate manipulations a woman's body required, even at their drunken sloppy worst. No matter. This was an exquisite thrill, a violent casting aside of all taboos, a violation of the very code knitting together the delicate fabric of society and Jesus didn't that big cock feel grand and didn't she just love the way it fit her pussy so perfectly ... and here she was coming again, the gathering pressure in her thighs, the rapidly increasing contractions of stomach muscles, the quickening breath and beating of her heart that ... oh yes ... that cock ... that cock working up her ... harder, harder faster faster oh he looks so helpless such a child really and so strong, powerful so ... GOD!! ! YESSSSS!! ! OH YES--! ! ! !
He came with her. He made no effort (at least none that succeeded) to match her rhythm. She had to seek his cock with her own rolling hips. But there was so damn much of it! You couldn't miss, she thought. Bouncing like a rubber ball on him, she slammed through one orgasm, then another, then another. What he lacked in duration, he sure made up for in staying power. God, it was like a thick lump of hot steel.
"Oh you're good in me Steve, you belong in me." She said it tenderly and his shy grin as he withdrew and sat up tickled her mind like it was his tongue on her clit.
"I guess I'm real glad to hear you say that, Miss Perkins."
She slid across the seat next to him. Bringing her lips close to his ear, she nibbled at the lobe, felt his whole body shiver, heard a small moan slip out of him and softly suggested, "Why don't we drop the Miss Perkins stuff? It sounds a little silly when we're naked to the world like this, don't you think?"
He seem totally surprised.
"Gosh," he said after a moment of confusion. "I don't think I've ever called a teacher by their first name before."
"Well, you know we do have first names. And," again nibbling at his ear, "We're often quite human."
She reached for his cock.
"Quite human indeed."
His crotch was oily and the soft skin of his cock slid through her fingers as she squeezed. He groaned again and raised his hips to her.
"I guess we really should be doing what you called me about," she said, obviously having no desire to change the tone of the moment.
"What's that?" he asked, a puzzled look in his eyes. "Oh. You mean Suzy."
"Suzy." The name alone called up a vast threatening vista, a mined field they sooner or later would have to fumble their way through. She dreaded it. How much sweeter to simply stroke this beautiful soft cock to its deserved hardness and then ride it again, ride it into infinity. It hadn't occurred to her to wonder whether this cock was the genuine prescription for her solitude, her numbing lack of purpose. Her need to have it in her the immediate fulfillment of that need created its own purpose and its own justification.
"I want to fuck you again," she told him. "I want you to fuck me long and slow this time; hard and long and slow."
He looked embarrassed.
"I don't know what it is Miss Perkins ... uh ... Julia." The name fell reluctantly from his lips. He was uncomfortable with this situation. He would be for some time. Must be patient, she told herself. Let him adjust at his own tempo.
"I ... feel so ... I don't know, I feel so supercharged when we ... you know ... do it. It's like, when you start to touch me, and when I kiss you and feel your body up against me ... wow, it's like the greatest feeling in the world. Really. You can't imagine how great it feels. And when you take your clothes off, I really have to pinch myself. I just can't believe I'm actually watching my teacher in front of me, taking her clothes off to ... make love to me."
"Steve," she said. "I want you to do something for me."
"O.K., Miss-uh, Julia. I'll try."
"I want you to say, 'Julia, I love to fuck you'. " She gave him a gentle teasing smile.
He seemed to be struck dumb. She'd no doubt that he spoke to her like that in his fantasies; she wanted to hear it.
"I ... love ... fucking you, Julia. God, I sure do. I just love fucking you. You're the best goddam fuck I've ever had!"
He appeared to be shocked by his own words, as if another had used his mouth to speak. Then they both laughed, a long, peaceful, joyful laugh. She felt the tension that had been such a constant companion slowly wane.
"See. It's not such a difficult word to say, is it?"
"Well, not usually. When I say it to you though, it sure feels weird."
"Well, look at it this way. It's a very old and respected word. You know that some form of the verb 'to fuck' has been in the English language for more than four hundred years? It's one of the most established words we have."
"I guess it's sort of like the cockroach, huh? Always been there, and always the same."
This totally broke her up. They shared their laughter and slowly learned the reality of each other as people, not forced to behave according to a prefabricated relationship, but defining the relationship as they moved further and further into each other's personalities, minds, bodies. She wanted to think so, at least. Wanted to think that this was no mere foolhardy indulgence, no mad suicide plunge into the abyss. Her body, her pleasure at his mere presence told her that she'd tapped into some deceptively pure stream of the experience of life. She wanted to float down it to whatever sea it finally spilled into.
"It seems we're going to continue meeting like this." She finally brought them back to the present, back to the immediate danger that faced them.
"Yeah, it kind of looks that way."
"Tell me. Did you think you were going to take me down to the river tonight and fuck me in the back seat of your car like I was some cheerleader?"
"No; I really didn't think we would." He thought a moment. "I think there's lots we need to talk about. This really scares me sometimes, when I think about what we've done. I mean, what if someone had come into the classroom that day."
That day. She thought of him with his pants to his knees, his face a study in stunned ecstasy, her body melting onto her desktop. What IF someone had come in? Foolish behavior? Absolutely.
"Well maybe they didn't come in that day, but somehow, Suzy either suspects or actually knows something."
Now it was Julia's turn to pause. She wasn't sure how much she wanted to tell Steve about their wild fight the night before. When Steve had called and suggested they talk, she'd invited him over but he'd insisted they go for a drive instead. Wise of him. Caution was something she'd abandoned what seemed to be ages ago. How cautious had she been with Suzy? How real was the threat she represented?
"She came to see me last night, you know."
He sat up with a jerk.
"Who? Suzy? She came to see you?" He was wide-eyed. "What did she say?"
"She accused us of the worst. She was very agitated. Things got a little tense for awhile."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, we had a fight. Actually. It was a pretty bad fight."
He watched her closely, trying to absorb the enormity of what she was suggesting.
"You mean you yelled a lot, or you ... fought?"
"We fought. It was a nasty scene and I'm not real pleased with myself over it, but I think it may have been good for us both."
"But you mean the two of you were FIGHTING? like, hitting each other?' "Look Steve. This is not a typical situation. I guess I'm not a typical teacher. I seem to be stepping beyond established bounds with all my students these days. She didn't come to me as a student, and we didn't discuss the situation as student and teacher. She attacked me, and I fought back. It's as simple as that."
"But you HIT her?" It disturbed her to see how agitated he was getting.
"Face it, Steve. We've gone way past the edge. There aren't any rules for this kind of situation. What do you think, there's a graduate level course for education majors, Student Seduction 505? Forget it! We're on our own in this and so is Suzy. Maybe I'm Miss Perkins in the classroom and you're my students, but where we are now, I'm whatever we decide I am. You and I are whatever we decide we are. No rules. Nothing. Understand?"
"What did she say?"
"She told me she was going to expose me if I didn't resign by noon today. Apparently she changed her mind. As far as I know, I'm still on the payroll."
"How did you talk her out of it?"
Julia fumbled in her purse for a cigarette. This too surprised Steve. She offered him one, and without thinking, he accepted.
"I don't know how I talked her out of it. When she left, we were calmed down, but it was a pretty emotional scene." She took a deep drag and exhaled. "I think she cares about you very much."
"Why are you telling me?"
"Because it's something you need to know, to think about if you're going to make any kind of intelligent decision about all this."
"There really wasn't anything much between us. Well that's not true. We'd been going steady for about seven months. Miss Perkins, she's just so young."
"And you've tasted an older woman and like a little salt with your sweets, is that it?"
"Yeah, something like that."
"Steve, what do you think of me? Is this simply a fantasy come to life? Because if it is, there's nothing wrong with that. But if that's what it is to you, you should face it and be honest about it."
"Gosh, I don't know Miss Perkins." She let him address her in the way he was obviously most comfortable with.
"This is all just too fucking strange. It's like you said: I don't know what happens when you get involved with your teacher. I don't know anyone else who's ever done something like this. Not in Clinton, anyway."
Julia placed her hand on his thigh.
"It's all right to be confused, as long as you understand the kinds of conflicts that are making you confused. Because when you act, you have to act out of some kind of awareness of the forces around you. You understand what I'm saying?"
"What I have to do is get to Suzy." He sounded very depressed by the thought.
"What'll I do? What'll I say to her? Do I deny this? That's what I did when she first brought it up. I tried to make her feel like a paranoid fool. But what if she really KNOWS?"
Julia thought about the 'proof Suzy had mentioned. Could it be?
"I don't know what to tell you, Steve. She indicated that she was pretty sure of herself. If you want my advice, I'd say to be gentle and kind. Don't attack her and don't accuse her. She may very well be able to do something we'll all regret."
"How could she have found out? It's not like we've been real obvious about this or anything?"
"Let me clue you in on a little secret, Steve. A woman in love is a highly sensitized being. A woman who's love is scorned is dangerous. We 'see' things, that maybe aren't there, but sometimes simply trying to fool someone can set off a whole flood of perceptions and it's pretty hard to convince someone like that that they're wrong. You'll learn."
"So then, what should we do. Just wait and see if the hammer falls?"
"I really don't know. like I said, she's in a very delicate state right now. You don't want to do anything that would push her the wrong way and that would be very easy to do right now. After a couple more days, if nothing's happened, then we can think about taking some kind of action to diffuse this. Maybe we should call this whole thing off. It would be the smart thing to do." She studied him closely for his reaction to this.
"Yeah ... but is that what you want."
"You tell me." Her hand went to his balls. She rolled them softly between her fingers.
He let her play with him a moment, then he said in an urgent voice "Miss Perkins, I haven't stopped thinking about you for days. Every time I close my eyes, I see you in front of me, pulling your sweater up over your head. I haven't done anything except think about you. You've changed my life and I don't even know how yet. I don't want to quit before I find out."
She leaned over to him and kissed him. His mouth opened, his tongue raced out to meet with hers and as they kissed, she worked him steadily, expertly back to a full erection. Unbelievable she thought, how easily he gets hard. Erections at will. She'd known a few men who'd have cut off a ball for such a gift.
His eyes begged her to continue stroking his cock. He'd not yet gained enough confidence with her to take command, was still the little boy following her lead. All right, she'd lead him. Right into her wet cunt she'd lead him and the rest of the world could go fuck themselves anyway they could find. She'd found her way and wasn't letting go.
He reclined against the corner of the back seat, one leg carelessly hanging onto the floorboard, the other raised up against the back of the seat. His cock pointed straight out from him. A perfect angle, she thought, for a nice rear entry. She turned around and raised her soft buttocks.
"Guide me into you." She felt his hands on her ass, felt him boldly spread the cheeks and take in the view. She knew it must be an overwhelming view for one so inexperienced. As he stared at her, she slid her hand between her legs and parted the lips of her cunt.
"Put your fingers in me," she directed, and felt their probing entrance past the spread opening.
"You're really wet. I can't believe how wet you are."
"You made me that way. You know that. Oh yes, that feels good," and she began to undulate her hips on his extended fingers. Her pussy was alive, as alive as she could ever remember feeling it. Each small point on the wet inner surface of her cunt flashed a tingle of recognition back through her body, along supercharged nerve fibers that filled her whole body with the mounting pressure of sexual craving, blind sexual lust that would not tolerate being ignored. She danced in attentive joy, letting her hips slurp up and down on his fingers, felt them spreading inside her, felt them seeking out the deepest parts of her. Then she felt his other hand on her clitoris. He knew where it was, but didn't seem to know too much about how it was used, though his harsh pawing strokes across the hardened point caused her to groan.
"Softer. Softly," she coaxed, and felt his pressure lessen. "Like a feather," she added and this image was one he could home in on. Suddenly, like electricity, like live wires touched to her flesh, his fingers gently tickled the bud of nerves and they exploded through her in an agony of delicious searing sexual pain. For it didn't hurt, only made her crave more, leaving her more unsatisfied as her gratification quickened, a craving that fed on its own intensity.
The fingers in her pussy stretched her to her fullest now, dug madly at the wet membranes, the pink folds of skin so slippery with her sexual juice. She arched her hips higher, opened herself fully to him, then felt him guiding her down, down onto that gorgeous spike, down into lost forgotten depths of pleasure that washed away the landscape beyond the small space that held the two of them, a universe empty, as empty as her cunt, an emptiness to be filled wholly with their fucking.
She was on him; he was slipping into her. Down a bit, feeling the head push into her pussy, up feeling it slide back out, down and again feeling it push into her, deeper this time, up, down, up, down, in and out, in and out. Once again she heard him start to gasp and groan and knew his astonished balls were reflexively spilling out with their thick liquid.
She reached a hand back to their tightly joined crotches, raised up on his cock and just as the head was about to slip out, she squeezed, firmly, felt the fluttering spasms beneath her fingers ease off and sensed him falling back from the peak. She waited, nearly a minute, with the head of his cock still in her, before she again allowed her hips to begin the long descent that would suck him up inside her.
He fucked with a renewed vigor, a fresh intensity. Now, as she dropped her body onto him, he rose to meet her. The cheeks of her ass were gently cradled in his stomach and as she spread her legs wider she felt the sensitive skin inside the crack of her ass rubbing across his body.
She grabbed his feet with her hands for support. He thrust harder and harder, never breaking his rhythm, confidently plunging his stiff cock straight through her parted flesh, driving up and stretching her cunt walls as far as they would stretch.
They were both pumping fast now, in time with each other and the first wave of orgasm began to gather at the point of friction between them. Steadily it mounted; she was lost, floating in a sea of delirium and near madness, working herself over him, whipping up an insane froth of her juice.
She came. She came a mighty come. She screamed out in helpless anguished ecstasy and still he beat her cunt with his rod. She felt the wave ease off and immediately another built in its place, rising to a crest and breaking through her pussy, sweeping her up in the tide of passion they'd unleashed. She felt him coming now, felt her pussy grow hot as all at once his cum shot through her and filled her to overflowing.
His dick was slippery in her now, and she merely increased the force of her rising and falling back on him. She clawed her fingernails across her clitoris, with such vigor and determination that an observer might have thought she risked scraping it right out of its tight little pocket. But she knew what she was doing and her cries turned to gut wrenching shrieks as she pawed herself to more and more orgasms. Ten, twenty; she had no idea. They were merged into a floating timelessness, a sinking into a bottomless pit of soft down where body and space lost their separateness, where she was beyond herself, to the point, for brief infinite moments of losing herself, passing beyond mind and ego, cast up onto a clean plane of blank, peaceful unconscious sensation like driftwood on a deserted shore at dawn.
She collapsed finally, her exhaustion complete. Her mind raced like a thousand bits of film spliced randomly together. She saw flowers, heard the sounds of traffic, recalled the name of a long forgotten friend from childhood, saw herself naked, saw herself in command, saw herself helpless. Cocks floated in the air within her, swarms of cocks like migrating sparrows, circling her, smothering her, spilling their rich white cum onto her. The silence was visible, tangible, something that could be held in ones hand.
Slowly, her conception of space reached out beyond herself, reached out to Steve, the auto, the banks of the dark river, the silhouettes of low hanging trees black against the gray of the night sky. She sat up.
Steve stroked her hair as she leaned back into him. Her legs spilled across the car seat, his cum spilled from her cunt, small sounds spilled from her lips. She turned up to his face, looked deeply into his perpetually amazed eyes.
"I'll fight to keep this." It was an irrevocable commitment, sealed with every fiber of her being. "I don't care if it's insane, if it's madness. I want you and I want you to want me. Tell me you want me."
"I want you." His voice was a whisper; he could have said nothing else.
"I want to fuck you again. I want to feel this cock in me forever." She touched it and felt it still stiff beneath her fingers.
"What about Suzy?" he asked after a moment.
"Let me worry about Suzy." Already she knew that whatever it took, whatever it meant. Suzy would be dealt with. And in her mind's eye, she saw the first shimmering shapes of actors in motion, of figures in a drama of her own creation. Yes, she thought, Suzy will present no problem.
CHAPTER SIX
Suddenly an eerie moving light splashed across the trees.
"Someone's coming," Steve said at once, and with a graceful, practiced motion had his legs in his trousers and was already halfway over the seat."
"What's the matter," Julia asked, her stomach filling with a thick swampy sludge of panic. "Who could it be?"
"Probably no one. Sometimes the cops drive down here to hassle whoever's parking.
Julia saw herself trying to answer questions from unpleasant police. They couldn't very well take her down to the station house and make her call her parents to tell them what she'd been doing. Still, she'd no spirit for a scene like that.
The light rose up the tree trunks and as the car pulled into the curve, two javelins of light cut through the darkness. She quickly buttoned up her dress arranged her hair and tried a thousand versions of "What are we doing here? Well officer, there's a perfectly good explanation for this, as I'm sure you'll agree, once I can think of it ... " No, she wanted no part of that.
"It's not the cops," said Steve when the car was in view. "At least I don't see any blue bubble-gum machine."
Well, thought Julia, comforted. They still call it that. Guess I'm not so old after all.
"Maybe they're here for the same reason we are." Julia hoped it was so.
"Maybe," was all Steve said in reply. His voice had the deadly seriousness of a high school senior. He had his hand on the ignition key, ready to spark the engine to life. As the car passed, he said nothing. Julia slumped low in the seat beside him.
They heard hoots and hollers. The car's horn beeped a few times but it neither slowed nor seemed like it was going to.
"Assholes," Steve muttered darkly.
"What do they want," Julia asked, her fear subsiding a bit.
"They want to raise hell. Assholes."
The car passed from sight around another curve. Julia began to relax when all of a sudden the trees and shrubs ahead were bathed in a red glow.
"Shit, they're stopping," said Steve, starting the car "Well is that so bad?" Julia wanted very much for this to be a false alarm. After all, there was nothing sinister about a car stopping at the local make-out spot, was there. Steve wordlessly pulled out of the secluded pocket they'd thought would hide them and drove back down the road.
"Here they come," he said a moment later. Julia turned around and sure enough, there were the two spears of light waving up and down in the night as the trailing car rolled over the ruts and rises of the dirt road.
"What do they want? Who are they? Steve, why are you so concerned? You act like you knew they would be here."
Oh no, she thought at once. She looked at Steve. His eyes were focused hard on the road ahead.
"Steve, do you know these people?"
"I might," he said finally.
"Did they know we were going to be here?"
"I don't know. How could they?"
"Steve, what are you keeping from me?"
He looked in the rear-view mirror. Then he looked at her.
"Hang-on," he said and floored the accelerator.
Julia would later recall the chase that ensued only as an endless succession of twists and turns, of shoulderless roads and trees streaming past, of bone rattling bumps and of a rising panic flavored with doubt. And always when she'd turn to look behind them, the murky glow of headlights beaming through the dust kicked up in their wake.
"Steve, please be careful."
"Trust me," he said. "I know these roads like the back of my hand."
"Well it looks like they do too."
"Yeah, but that's only half of it. You also have to know how to drive them."
His self-assurance seemed to be justified. Twice, she thought surly they'd spin off the road, maybe even flip over.
TEACHER AND STUDENT DEAD IN SEX CHASE. The headline raced across her eyes. But he knew what he was about. Fishtailing through one turn after another, he steadily opened the distance between the two cars until often, they were out of sight behind a curve for thirty seconds or more.
Up ahead, the road forked.
"O.K., this is it," said Steve. "Now's when you really gotta trust me."
He turned off the headlights and flew down the left fork for maybe two hundred feet, then skidded crazily to a stop. Gears ground with vicious staccato precision as he jammed the car into reverse and spun the wheels backwards. The car grudgingly obeyed.
When they'd reached the fork again, without hitting his breaks at all, he slammed into low gear and kicked up an opaque dust cloud, then drove very slowly down the right road, coasting to a stop as soon as they'd come to a curve. Julia saw the translucent glow growing brighter as they pulled out of view.
"They'll follow the cloud of dust," he said, turning around, still without the aid of lights.
Sure enough, as they sped back towards the fork along the dark road, they saw the bright glow suddenly go red as the taillights moved away down the left fork. Steve again floored the accelerator.
"That'll give us just enough headway to shake them," he said.
The road was still foggy with dust when he at last turned the lights back on, but though
Julia kept a constant vigil, the pursuing lights never reappeared.
After about five minutes more of unfathomable back roads, they at last turned onto a hardtop, heavily peppered with pot-holes and asphalt patches, but to Julia it spoke only of civilization and safety.
"So is that how Clinton High Schoolers get their kicks?"
"Some of them, I guess."
"Isn't that a little stupid, to go out harassing people in parked cars?"
"It's a small town. There's not much else to do ... if you don't have a date, anyway."
They drove back to town in silence. Steve pulled into Julia's driveway and they sat in the car, still saying nothing. Julia lit a cigarette.
"Steve, why did you think you might know those people.? "
"Everyone knows me here, they know my car. People recognize you."
"Did you recognize that car?"
He paused a moment. Too long a moment, thought Julia.
"I thought I did, but then I wasn't sure." Finally the doubts coalesced into a simple question.
"Steve, who have you told about us."
"No one, Miss Perkins, I haven't said a word to anyone. How could I?" He sounded sincere enough, but she was not satisfied.
"All right then, has anyone said anything to you?"
He didn't answer.
"Steve, I want to know if anyone has said anything to you about us. Tell me."
She was the teacher again, he her helpless student.
"All right! People ... well you know. I mean, Suzy and Wally Joe seemed to feel pretty certain the other day. You know how rumors spread."
"Of course. And have you done anything to squelch those rumors?"
"Well sure. I told them they were full of shit."
"Told who?"
"I don't think you know them."
"Who are they?"
"I know them from when I played football."
"Who are they?"
He looked at her for a long silent moment.
"I'd rather not tell you, Miss Perkins. I need to handle this in my own way. My neck's on the block too, you know."
She felt dizzy and helpless. She heard her name bouncing off the locker room walls like a basketball to the echoing hoots and yelps of an envious audience. Oh God, let it not be so, she thought. What have I done?
"Look, Miss Perkins. This is just a lot of rumors. You said that we can deal with rumors. As long as no one can prove anything, no one gets hurt, right?"
Wrong, she thought. Lack of proof worked both ways. A thick cloud of suspicion settled onto her life at that moment, as thick as the dust that most likely still hovered over the dirt roads they'd just traveled. Whatever else happened, that cloud would not easily be removed.
She took a deep breath.
"Steve, I'm sorry I got you into this mess. I'm sorry I got myself into this mess. I hope it's not too late to set things straight. In any event, what happened tonight between us was the last time it will happen. Do you understand?"
"Yes ma'am." He spoke in a small voice, a frightened voice.
"I take full responsibility for what's happened." She reached out and touched his cheek. "I have to say I don't regret any of it. Not really. Not deep inside me."
His head was lowered. He mumbled something into his chest.
"I didn't hear that. What did you say?"
"I said I wish it hadn't turned out this way."
"So do I, she responded after a painful, contemplative pause. She thought of kissing him good bye, but realized that, actually, she didn't really want to.
The car door slammed shut. She heard the engine gunned to life, heard the grinding of gears (didn't he know about clutches?). It wasn't till she was at her door that she allowed herself to turn around and watch the taillights turn onto the road and wondered to herself, Steve, Steve, how badly have I misjudged you? What, oh God what has this turned into?
She'd have given anything at that moment to eavesdrop on his thoughts. Had she been able to, she'd have been stunned by the fierce, single-minded phrase that overwhelmed him as he set back out on the highway. I'll kill those bastards, he thought. I will fucking KILL those BASTARDS!
Julia slept poorly that night. She dreamed. Bad dreams. Harsh dreams. She was tied to a chair. The faculty of Clinton High School sat in a semi-circle on a high bench surrounding her. And what was that she heard ... of course! There were the first drunken clarinet notes teetering through the psychotic strings of the Witch's Sabbath from Berlioz' Symphonie Fantastique. Fitting. If there was to be any bloodletting, it surely would be her s. Long candles dripped slowly from the bare stone walls. All wore long black hooded robes, all except her. Was she naked? No, she wore ... yes, that was it. It was the blouse she wore when she was in a mood to tease the males in her class, though the buttons usually opened at least to her cleavage were now fastened tightly up to her neck.
And there was ... oh no, this was too much. It was Suzy Reed, in a long black dress, a candle in one hand, an awesomely long, gleaming knife in the other.
Julia watched as the girl approached, watched helpless in her bonds, the sacrificial lamb. Or was it goat? She saw Dave Ketchum's leering face, saw others that she knew but had never really known, all waiting, her guilt a certainty, waiting only for the punishment now.
Suzy approached and held the knife to Julia's neck. She delicately probed with the point, making a small indentation in the smooth skin. The pain fed her fear. But the blade was withdrawn, instead cutting the top button from her blouse. Then the next. And the next. Slashing through the thin threads until one by one all the buttons were cut off and her naked breasts peeked through the opening in the material. Suzy slipped the knife beneath the flaps, parting each one and pulling it, to the side so that her breasts were fully exposed.
She felt the sharp point poking into her nipple. Gleams of light from the candles were reflected off the shiny blade into her eyes. The blade lunged. Scarcely more than a fraction of an inch. Not enough to break the skin. Just enough to leave her limp with terror.
She screamed out, but no sound escaped. Only the music could be heard, rising in volume, though the Berlioz piece had been replaced now by the long somber tones of a Gregorian Chant, monotonously pounding her brain. There was laughter, hard evil laughter, and suddenly she was totally naked, strapped upright to a wooden frame, arms and legs spread wildly away from her in a naked, obscene 'X'. The sum of her life, she thought. Naked breasts, spread lips of her cunt, and a cold final 'X' stamped across all references to her, wherever they might appear, on whatever official form dealt with her.
Steve Tanner stood before her. In his hand, he held a bundle of thin leather strips, bound together in a large knot and fastened to a carved wooden handle. She again tried to scream but this time was prevented from doing so by a gag that had been placed in her mouth. Wild eyed, she struggled in vain. Her body could scarcely move. She was an open target.
He measured his distance carefully, took aim, reared back with his arm and swept the lash hard across her breasts. She shrieked a muffled scream into the gag at her mouth. Again he swung, pulling back a little this time so the tips of leather just grazed across her nipples. The sting was overwhelming. He moved behind her and she felt the bite of the whip cross her firm ass, felt it scourge her lean back, felt the welts rising on her thighs. And she was tilted, stretched out on a long flat board, still bound and gagged, her legs still flared wide to either side of her.
Down came the lash, ripping through her pubic hair. Again it struck, savaging her clitoris. And again, whipping across her opened cunt lips. And again, and again. The leather tore at her thighs, slashed over her tight belly, bit again at her quivering pussy, whipping her with pain.
"COME, YOU WHORE!! ! " he commanded, whipping her raw breasts.
"COME, SLUT!! ! " and again her pussy flamed beneath the lash.
"COME, I SAY!! ! " and he whipped her with relentless strokes that she felt would shave the skin from her very bones.
"Come, come, come, come." It became a continuous chant, taken up by all. Writhing in agony, her body twisting as far as it could within the limited movement possible, she felt the strips flaying her pussy to a wet mass of tormented anguish. Yet, she came. Massive waves of orgasm, fueled by the constant lashing, opening every pore, burning every nerve till the fire and the ecstasy were one.
They laughed as she came, shrieked with glee. Naked cocks were above her, spitting their white jism in an insolent stream over her ravaged body. They were in her cunt, in her ass, in her mouth. She was coming, she was lost in coming and pain, harder and harder, higher--!
She awoke. Slowly, the voices, the dim chants, the robes, the lash faded. She was breathing hard, her brain a thick fog of panic and terror. She searched madly through the space around her. Slowly, the judgment bench became a dresser, the candles turned to the streetlights outside her window, the voices faded to just the sound of her breath rushing in and out of her.
She realized that her hand was in her pussy, that her thighs were coated with the bath of juice that had poured from her. Still half numb, half mindless with fear, she slid her fingers in and out of her slimy wet flesh, dug with a sudden urgency that she couldn't have controlled if she wanted to. Ripping through herself now, as if trying to mimic the departed lash, slapping her clit, raping her tortured membranes, she came. Not a savage come of pain. This was a clean, pure coming, a coming almost in triumph, a come of victory over devils real and devils of dreams. They were gone, vanished in the scattering cloud of fear she felt herself emerging from. They had never been there at all. But she was. She was real. Her cunt was real and it was hers, and her orgasm was real, a stone-like reality that laid waste to the terror and paranoia.
Bring them on, she thought later. Let them all have a shot. She would take them, and she would beat them.
There were other dreams, lost in the labyrinth of unconscious chaos, dreams that spelled out her fear, turned it to surreal drama. Dreams that returned to her in the morning shower, bubbled up with the scent of perking coffee, sang between the lyrics of the radio, hummed along with the engine of her car as she drove to school. Dreams that returned, not as conscious recollections, but as a subtle undercurrent of urgency, an emotional figured bass line grounding her acts, her thoughts, her perception of her world with its steady mounting tension. Things were going to happen. She would see to that. She prayed that she could survive them.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Suzy Reed waited till the rest of the class had filed out. As she approached Julia's desk, the teacher saw instead of jeans, a long black robe; instead of a notebook, a gleaming blade. She felt the point at her neck, at her breasts, felt the razor edge glide across her tight flesh, felt the searing pain, saw the thin red stripe thicken, swell, spill down her body in heavy droplets--!
"I thought we should talk, Miss Perkins."
"I agree, Suzy," said Julia calmly, giving no hint of the dream fragments that still played across her thoughts. "We said a lot the other night ... I also thought a lot more was left unsaid." Julia noticed how small and frail the girl really was. How ... harmless, really.
Suzy took a photograph from her notebook, and flipped it onto the desk.
"I wanted you to be the first to see this." She casually set the picture in front of Julia, face down.
Julia made no move to turn the photo over. "What is this, Suzy."
"See for yourself."
Slowly, unwillingly, Julia flipped the picture over. She said nothing for a long time, was conscious only of the ticking of the clock on the wall and of a rising sound like running water in her ears.
She was on her knees. The picture had been taken in her living room. Her face was turned from the camera but she recognized herself nonetheless. Her head was buried in Steve Tanner's crotch. Both of them were naked.
Finally, she looked up at Suzy.
"I see. I assume there are more."
"Yes."
Julia walked over to the door and carefully shut it. She took her time walking back to her desk.
"Well Suzy. It seems you've got me in a tight situation. I guess I'd best wait to hear what you have to say."
Suzy was looking at her hard, but with none of the malice Julia remembered from their vicious confrontation. Almost. . .sympathetic.
Suzy began to cry.
"Oh Miss Perkins; how could you?" She buried her face in her hands and her body shook with uncontrollable sobs. Julia was totally perplexed. This girl was obviously getting ready for the kill, yet she felt kindly towards her just this moment, sorry for all the difficulties she started.
Walking around to the front of her desk, Julia lay a soothing arm across Suzy's shoulder.
Her pussy quivered.
"I'm sorry Suzy. I really am."
Suzy made no move to pull away, seemed to welcome the comforting gesture.
"I won't try to deny what's been going on between Steve and me. For what it's worth, it's only been a few occasions, and it will never happen again."
Suzy looked up at her through tearful eyes.
"Why d-do y-y-you say th-th-that?"
"Because it's true."
Suzy watched Julia's eyes. She stared intently into them, as if trying to comprehend some alien creature from another planet.
"Miss Perkins, what kind of person are you? I really don't understand you at all. Why couldn't you just have taught English and left us all alone?"
Julia walked over to a window and watched the students milling about in the schoolyard. She remembered her own high school days, her loves, the awesome finality of breaking up, of feeling that you could never love again. High School was the last place where issues were still clear cut. There were no shades of gray, no murky lines between right and wrong. You did what was right. Or else you didn't. And as for defining your terms, well, everyone knew what was right. Didn't they? Did Suzy? Or was she, as Julia suspected, frightened by something that must seem to her to be far more awesome, deadlier even than a teacher fucking a student. Not just any student, to be sure, but her love. Or was he?
"Suzy, I'm terribly sorry about my behavior the other night. I never meant to strike you. Things got out of hand."
Suzy said nothing. "I wish you could understand. I wish I could make you understand what I felt when first got involved with Steve." She waited, intentionally dropping the topic of their fight and the violent sexual conclusion. She knew it hovered in the air between them. At the moment, it was all she had over this girl, to balance the incredible picture on her desk.
"I never meant it to be dirty. It's just something that happened."
"That's not what he's been saying."
Julia felt herself melting.
"What has Steve been saying, Suzy. Why don't you tell me what Steve has been saying."
"Why do you think I got so upset at the very first? He told everyone about how you almost raped him after class one day. Nobody believed him, but that's when I noticed you spending so much time with him and feeding him all this bullshit about a paper getting published. That's why I decided to follow him to your house that night," she said, nodding towards the picture. "I don't know what I had in mind, but I brought along my camera, just in case. I guess I didn't expect that."
"What you're saying, then, is that apart from yourself and Steve, there are only rumors. Am I correct?"
"I guess so. A lot of people got real turned off when he started talking about you."
"Not Wally Joe Jordham. He seemed to believe it."
"He's a fool, and he hates Steve. I was just using him. Miss Perkins, I'm so confused, I don't know what I think."
"Do you love Steve?"
"I don't know. I thought I did. It was exciting, you know, dating a star athlete. But he's really kind of mean. He's treated me like shit before."
This whole conversation struck Julia as wholly bizarre. She should be regarding this girl as a deadly threat, yet found herself more and more looking at her as an ally. Funny, she thought, once you stripped all the teacher/student crap away, what was taking place was an alliance between two women who'd been fucked over by the same man. My God! She was in a soap opera.
"What do you plan to do about those pictures, Suzy?" Julia asked quietly.
"I really don't know, Miss Perkins. The other night I wanted to use them for revenge, but the more I look at them, the more I think that Steve is the one I should get revenge on."
"I see."
She walked over to the girl and absent mindedly stroked her hair.
"We've all been trying to deal with a lot of new feelings lately, haven't we?"
"Wh-what do you mean by that, Miss Perkins."
"Suzy, I hope you don't think that what happened between Steve and me is something that I consider normal. As a matter-of-fact, I've spent quite of few sleepless nights because of it. Believe me, I know how strange it is. And while I'm very disappointed to hear how he dealt with the situation, I guess in his own way, he was trying to cope with an impossible delema too."
She kept stroking Suzy's hair and when the girl continued to passively accept the caresses, Julia stepped closer to her.
"Suzy, there's always the possibility that no one needs to be hurt any more." Her voice was calming, quiet. Suzy held her body in a rigid posture.
"L-like, how do you mean." Her voice trembled a little.
"Like I told you, it's finished between Steve and me. All the more so after finding out what you've told me. You can destroy me, if you want. I'm powerless to stop you." She took Suzy's face in both hands and turned it up towards her own.
"Or," she went on, "You can spare me." She let her face inch closer to the girl's, whose eyes seemed captivated, incapable of pulling away, much as she might wish to.
"I'm entirely in your hands," fully aware that exactly the reverse was true What was she doing? Was this necessary? Yes, because it would work. Besides, wasn't it obvious that the girl desired her? Hadn't it been obvious as they'd struggled? Hadn't she perhaps awakened some fire in the girl that Steve, it seemed, had been wholly unable to? Did it matter? No. What mattered was that at this moment of choice for Suzy, Julia was bringing her totally under her control.
"Suzy," she said to the frightened girl, frightened yet compelled, Julia thought. "I think we both know something happened between us when you came to my house. I wonder how you feel about it?"
"Happened? Well ... I mean, we were both pretty upset, and a lot of things were said that maybe we didn't mean to say...."
Her voice trailed off as Julia stroked her soft cheek with the back of her hand. She's so fragile, thought Julia, so out of touch with herself, with her body and its desires. Julia could sense that the girl was wound light, a spring straining to uncoil with a vicious lunge. She moved closer, closer still. Suzy made no move away, could only wait, mesmerized by her teacher's touch.
"You're very pretty. Did you know that?"
"Do you think so, Miss Perkins?" Her voice was a throaty whisper.
Julia pulled Suzy's face to her own and kissed the girl full on the lips. They remained clamped shut and felt like two strips of ice to Julia's wet mouth. Then, she relented. Just a little.
But, enough for Julia to know she'd been exactly right about the girl's reaction to their fight. Somewhere inside her young body, a small flame that had flickered unnoticed for her whole life up to this point had suddenly ignited her flesh, and even now raged uncontrolled between her legs. Julia knew the girl longed for her touch wanted it, a craving far past the bounds of comprehension and conscious awareness.
Suzy opened her lips now, allowed Julia's tongue to lazily drift through the thin space. She licked the inside of Suzy's lips and the tips of their tongues touched dancing against each other for long minutes of calming pleasure. Go slow, she warned herself. This girl is scared out of her mind, as much at the awakening surges within her body as of me. Had she ever made love to Steve? Julia doubted it. At the most, she'd probably allowed her breasts to be fondled, perhaps even allowed a hand down her pants, a finger in her slit. Had she ever come? Really come? Been seized by the power of it, so possessed it became your single reason for existence? Not until she'd found herself locked in physical combat, felt her body squeezed by Julia's legs, felt her cunt burning as it met another equally starved cunt, as they rubbed together, as their juices mingled, as they came in the onslaught of passion. The girl's reluctant acceptance today was proof of her desire. Julia decided to go for the jugular.
With a quick deft move of her hand, Suzy's jeans were unsnapped, the zipper down. The girl cried a little in resistance but as Julia's long fingers crept down beneath the elastic of her panties, wiggled through soft curled hair and slid through the wet folds of skin, the resistance drained from her voice and the cry became a low moan. Julia sought out the buried bud of her clit and felt Suzy's legs go limp, felt her rest the weight of her body on the supporting hand between them. Suzy's hips rolled as Julia tickled the hardening clit and suddenly with no warning, the girl came with two convulsive exhalations of breath and a great shivering through her whole body. She leaned against Julia resting her head on Julia's shoulder and held that position till her orgasm passed.
She looked up at her teacher.
"Oh God, Miss Perkins. Oh God!"
Julia said nothing, simply watched the girl with a kindly smile and concerned eyes.
"Does that frighten you?" She asked.
Suzy was still breathing very hard.
"Yes. Yes, it scares me. Of course it does. What am I doing?"
Julia kept her fingers wrapped around the outside of Suzy's tight pussy and there was no effort to remove them.
"Oh God, Miss Perkins, don't do that any more. Please." Her voice was pleading, but as Julia again massaged the clit between her fingers, Suzy's eyes closed and she gave herself over to another surge of mounting pressure, of tension building in her muscles and nerve endings, a surge of feeling that surpassed anything her inexperienced body had yet presented her with.
"Haven't you ever done this to yourself, Suzy? Is this really such a new experience?"
Suzy made no response. Her eyes remained closed and she allowed herself a groan, a low agonized groan that belied the pleasure filling her pussy, her crotch, her thighs. She loves this, thought Julia, loves my fingers in her pussy, loves the feel of coming all over my hand.
When it came, her orgasm was longer, more sustained. Again she leaned her body into Julia's for support, flung her arms around Julia's back and emitted a series of chocked labored moans with each spasm rolling up from her cunt. She came for nearly a minute, one complete sweep of the thin red second hand on the wall that seemed for Julia to be moving in slow motion, each sliced instant dragged out for hours. Suzy gripped her tightly and the force of her coming pounded through Julia's body as well. It was quite arousing. Julia longed all at once for the feel of fingers at her own wet lips, for a loving hand to stroke her own thighs, reach deep within her and pull come after come from her tissues. But not yet. No, Suzy must not be rushed.
Finally, she removed her hand from between Suzy's legs. Each finger shone in the lights like polished stone. Julia raised her fingers to her lips and slowly tasted the salt of Suzy's flesh, licking her tongue longingly over each joint and knuckle, burying each finger in her mouth and sliding it back out. Suzy stared at her with open fascination.
"Why don't you come over to my house tonight, Suzy. I think we might ... get a lot more accomplished there."
She took a long time answering.
"Well, I ... I was supposed to be so me where ... this evening. A party. Some friends of mine are throwing a surprise birthday for someone and I told them I'd be there."
Julia smiled. "Well, that's a safe answer, at least."
"Oh no, Miss Perkins ... I ... " she fell silent as Julia contemplated the girls opened jeans. Under the spread denim, she wore thin pink panties. Her dark patch of hair could be clearly seen.
"Suzy, I'd like you to come to my house tonight. I think you'd like to also. Why play games?"
"I'm afraid, Miss Perkins," she said after a pause.
"Are you afraid of me, or of yourself."
"I'm afraid of what's happening. I don't know how to deal with this." Julia kissed her again.
"Suzy," she said, the girls face inches from her own. "Are you going to ruin me with those pictures you took?"
Suzy stared at her as she made what could have been the most monumental decision of her life.
"No, Miss Perkins. I won't. You're safe from me."
"I'd like to see the rest. I am a little curious, you understand."
Suzy looked away, embarrassment crossing her eyes.
"They're horrible, Miss Perkins. It made me sick to stand outside your window and take them. I felt dirty, as dirty as I thought the two of you were."
"And do you feel dirty now?"
Instead of answering, Suzy fastened her jeans.
"You like me to touch you, don't you?"
"Please, Miss Perkins. I really have to go."
"You like to feel me touching you, don't you," Julia persisted.
"Miss Perkins, I don't want to talk anymore. I have to go."
"Suzy, answer me. Say it. You like to come at my touch don't you?"
"STOP IT!! ! PLEASE!! ! " Her face was twisted in terror and confusion.
"Say it!! " She was a teacher again, commanding, controlling.
"What do you want from me?" Suzy was starting to cry.
"I want to hear you speak the truth."
"What do you know about truth? What do you know about sincerity, and goodness and honesty? You want to destroy me, don't you. That's what you want. Admit it! You want to destroy me. You want to ruin me!"
Julia shifted her tone without warning, was again soothing, calming, caring.
"Suzy, what I want has nothing to do with destruction. It has to do with fulfillment. With joy. With being happy."
"Is this what makes you happy? Seducing your students?"
"You want me. Stop playing games."
But Suzy was beyond her now, was too frightened by what had taken place to think clearly or sort through the chaos that was her young impressionable mind.
She ran to the door. She turned the handle, but before opening the door and bolting through into the daylight and the reassuring world of school beyond, she turned to Julia.
"You scare me, Miss Perkins. Forgive me, but I'm scared out of my mind by you." And she was gone.
Julia sat back at her desk. How had it come to this, she wondered. How had she allowed herself to go so irrevocably far with two students? And what, she wondered, had been truly violated? A sacred trust? Her own ideals? What? She felt lost and small. The silent walls of the classroom grew around her, circling her with the cold stone feeling of danger. She was lost and none of the guide markers she'd come to depend on could help her now. Her life had turned and she no longer knew whether she was on the right path or the wrong path or indeed, if any path at all could be discerned through the jumbled debris of what had only a month before been a sane, sedate life. One thing was clear. She could only move forward. All bridges had been burned, the terrain she'd crossed had been set to flame and could no longer offer any refuge. Plunge forward, she told herself. See this through. Come out on top.
She felt moisture on her cheek and realized she was sweating. As she raised her hand to wipe her brow, the thick scent of Suzy's ripe cunt filled her nostrils, and for the rest of the day, she could think only of that firm body, that untouched, untried young woman, lying on her living room rug, coming again and again as Julia lashed her pussy with her tongue.
"What, oh God, do I want?" She asked the question out loud and amid the silence of the walls, she felt the heavy moisture gathered in her warm crotch, and she knew, knew beyond any doubt, exactly what she wanted.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Suzy did not appear at Julia's house that night. Nor was she in school the next day. That alone was enough to alarm her. When she received a summons to Henry Scroggins' office, her stomach jittered over into open panic.
As she walked the long corridors of Clinton High School, past the library where students furtively razored pages from encyclopedias to be copied verbatim for papers that night, past the cafeteria where the smell of lunch cooking filled the air (always the same smell, she thought, no matter what was being served that day), past long lines of lockers, past open classrooms which seemed filled with the same faces no matter how many she glanced into, she herself felt like a student. A student called to judgment. The long trek to the principal's office, the one common thread that united everyone's recollection of high school regardless of which generation they came from. True, she carried no pink slip in her hand with its illegible indictment for crimes real or imagined scribbled by a vengeful teacher. Nonetheless, she felt helpless. There was no reason to assume that Henry Scroggins wanted anything more from her than to discuss upcoming projects for the English Department, or maybe even to raise the possibility of tenure. Her sense of thick dread yielded not one bit to this hopeful speculation however. She had lost touch with the day to day reality around her. She no longer was truly in touch with the way she related to the school, her job, her students. She knew only that swarming clouds of danger continued to gather about her, thicker and thicker so that as she reached the pale green door with the simple plate that read OFFICE, she was ready to believe that anything, anything at all could be waiting on the other side and that whatever it was, it sought her destruction.
Her nerves were on edge, her stomach was turning. Fear held her. The long hallways behind her felt like a vast labyrinth. What minotaur, she wondered, waited still ahead, waited patiently in a sinister crouch for her unsuspecting entry into the final chamber--!
Sounds of the bustle of administering a typical high school filled her ears as she opened the door. A typewriter clacked and clicked like pebbles raining on a tin roof. A radio burbled country music. Papers were shuffled, filing cabinets slid open and clattered shut. The muted chime of an office telephone sounded from no direction in particular.
"Oh, yes. Miss Perkins." Gloria Thatcher, Henry Scroggins personal secretary looked up at her through dark horn-rimmed glasses that were fastened to a thin chain around her neck. A white knitted sweater was draped around her shoulders, fastened at her neck by an ornate gold double alligator clasp. No one really knew how long she'd worked in the office of Clinton High School, probably not even her. It was common knowledge that anything that got done, did so through her efforts.
"Mr. Scroggins is expecting you."
Was it her imagination, or was everyone staring at her, Julia wondered. Do they know?
Am I finished? This is how it feels, she thought, those last moments before the noose is tightened, the hood lowered, the trap sprung and you fall dizzily through space waiting for that ultimate jerk upwards, the sickening snap--!
"Come in," the voice growled at her knock.
Henry Scroggins sat at his desk and tried to look like he knew why he was there. It was a doomed effort from the start. He was a fat, bald little man with a ludicrous thin moustache that looked like he'd drawn it on his face with a grease pen. Beads of sweat continually dotted his forehead.
There are two kinds of fools; those who know it and those who are too stupid to know it. Henry Scroggins was a fool who knew he was a fool, but who had somehow convinced himself that no one else did. The man is obviously dangerous, Julia had often thought. As she entered his office now and sat in the chair he gestured her towards, she reaffirmed her conviction.
"Harumph," was his first sound, as he tried, as usual, to clear his throat without success. Julia felt queasy.
"Um ... yes; Miss ... uh ... Perkins...."
He seemed unable for a moment to recall the purpose of this meeting. Then a light dimly blinked in his eyes and he regarded her with renewed interest.
"Well, Miss Perkins. Still teaching English, are you?"
"Yes sir." The man's an ass, she thought.
"Yes, yes. Well. How's it going? Getting along with the students all right?"
"I holding my own, sir."
"Well, they can be trying at times, can't they? Little buggers."
Silence.
"Yes ... um, well, uh, Miss ... Perkins. Right; Miss Perkins ... heh heh...."
He was obviously utterly ill-equipped to being up whatever was on his mind. Julia shuddered.
Then he got to the point. Of all his weak points, smooth transitions were one of the most glaring.
"Well see here Miss Perkins; there's been some rather unsettling things being said about you lately. I'm concerned. Yes ma'am I am concerned. Yessir. Concerned" He thumped his desk.
"I don't think I know what you're talking about Mr. Scroggins." Julia managed a look of benign innocence.
"Yes ... hmmmm. What about this Tanner kid? What's the story there?"
"What do you mean, Mr. Scroggins?"
He pointed a stubby finger at her.
"Don't play coy with me young lady.
Explanations are in order. Yessir, they most assuredly are ... uh, in order. Yessir!" He thumped his desk again.
Julia decided on a direct assault.
"Mr. Scroggins, if what you're referring to are the sick, small minded musings of a bunch of cowardly fools who have nothing better to do than spread vicious rumors, well yes, maybe I do know what you are talking about. It just never occurred to me that I might actually have to take such evil drivel seriously. Perhaps I was wrong."
His mouth dropped open for a minute. He made a move to lower his glasses and peer at her from over the top rim, but forgot that he wasn't wearing them. He hastily picked them up from his desk, put them on and then proceeded to do exactly that. Julia wanted to burst out laughing.
"Miss Perkins," he said, standing up. "We are given an awesome task. Yes, awesome indeed. We have within our hands, the destinies of hundreds of young future citizens to shape and create within them the, the ... uh, ability to ... uh...."
He was getting hopelessly lost. Julia felt her stomach doubling up within her as she stifled yet another urge to collapse in laughter.
"Uh ... anyway, as I was saying. We've got to be very careful. Yes, verrry careful indeed about how we conduct ourselves. We must be like Ceaser's Wife. Above, uh, what was it? Suspicion! That's it. Above suspicion. It's not enough to be pure of heart. We must be pure of deed and look like it too! Do I make my point clear?"
"No sir, you don't." His face fell at this. "I don't mind telling you, sir, that I resent these insinuations. Very much. Must I deal with slander and whispered innuendo even here, in your office. From you? I think if you have a point to make, you should get to it. Right away."
"I see. All right. You been fucking that Tanner kid?"
Finally, she could contain herself no longer. She spit out her laughter. Long heavy peals of laughter. She saw his face turn beet red, tried to get herself under control, started to mumble an apology and collapsed again in hysterical, laughing. His eyebrows twitched. His eyes widened. He tried to say something but his mouth merely went through the motions with no sound whatsoever supporting them.
"Mr. Scroggins, please forgive me. It's just that when I finally heard it put to me in a straightforward question, I realized how absurd it sounded. Please try to understand. I'm no fool. I know what's been going around. It's been a source of great concern to me and I've felt somewhat powerless to do anything about it. I guess it's just such a relief to see how puny the charges sound when they're out in the open."
He looked flabbergasted.
"PUNY!! ! You say PUNY? Dear woman, have you lost your mind. Why, this strikes at the very core of our society. PUNY? I'm aghast. That's what I am. Aghast. Aghast, do you hear?"
"Yes, Mr. Scroggins. Puny. Words are cheap. Talk is cheap. Who has come forward with anything concrete? Who can back up any of their lies? WHO? I'll tell you who. NO ONE, that's who. Because that's what they are. Lies."
He peered at her from over the rim of his glasses again. :
"Oh. That's what you say, is it. I understand you've been spending a lot of time with this student of yours lately."
"Steve Tanner is an intelligent, talented young man. I was trying to encourage him to rewrite a paper he did for one of my classes. It was a good paper. Worthy of publication. It could have meant honors for him and for this school. If I erred in my judgment, I'm sorry. I thought I was doing my job."
"See here, Miss Perkins." He was fumbling for words. Then he sat back, confused. "So you're saying this is all bullshit. Is that what you're saying?"
"I might have chosen my words a little more delicately, but yes, that's the crux of it. It's bullshit. And I don't mind telling you, I am mightily disappointed in you and this school for encouraging this sort of thing. I doubt I can ever have any creative effect on my students or in any aspect of my job after this. The most I can hope for is that you won't torpedo my efforts to seek employment elsewhere."
"Now, now, hold on a minute young lady. Let's not go off half cocked. I'm sure we can work things out. If, as you say, this is all a misunderstanding. I'll have to think about this."
"Well please think very hard about it, sir. I stand to lose a lot. I'm sure you understand what I mean."
Wait a minute, she thought. Was he ... oh God. She'd absent mindedly been fumbling with the buttons of her blouse and without realizing it had opened two more than when she'd come into his office. He seemed aware, for the first time, that those were in fact real breasts flopping beneath the material. She glanced down and realized that with the view she was giving him, he really could have no doubt. No, she thought. I won't do it. Not even to save my ass. Henry Scroggins!?
"You were saying, sir?" she asked sweetly.
He ripped his eyes from her breasts and she fancied she heard the tearing sound as they became unglued.
"Oh ... uh, right. Uh, yes. What was I saying?"
"I think you were saying something about needing to reconsider this ugly situation in a much more fair light."
"Right! Absolutely!" He frowned and looked at her, puzzled. His eyes slobbered back to her breasts.
"Miss Perkins. I don't mind telling you that this disturbs me very much. Verrrry much. Yessir."
Now was the time, thought Julia, for him to stand up and walk over to the window as he waxed philosophic. Hmmmm ... maybe he had something to hide under the desk.
"However, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't impressed by your stout defense of yourself. Don't get me wrong. I've always liked you personally. Always struck me as a bright young lady. You'll make someone a fine wife someday. Yessir."
She beat back an impulse to plunge the fountain pen on his desk into his eye.
"This sort of thing is regrettable. But," and here, he paused for another blatantly lustful look at her breasts, "there are always solutions. Isn't that what the philosophers say? Solutions always present themselves, right? We, uh, just need to know how to recognize them. Yessir."
And with that he thumped his desk again and indicated that the conference was over. Julia was not quite sure just what, if anything, had been decided.
"Mr. Scroggins, you called me in here to accuse me of one of the worst things a teacher can be accused of, and now you're dismissing me, with nothing having been resolved? I can't believe this. What am I supposed to do now? How can I go back out there and teach, without even knowing who my accusers are. Why can't I face them? How can you do this to me?"
"What? Oh, uh ... right. Yes, you have a good point there. Well, I'll have to get back to you on this. We don't want to rush into anything hasty now do we. No sir. like I said ... things have a way of working out, don't they?"
She left his office relieved and frightened both. She'd obviously been offered a reprieve, an escape route, should she have the stomach for it. And Suzy Reed hadn't given away any of her choice photos either. Otherwise she'd never have pulled off the bluff. But she could have shown them around. To other students, perhaps. Steve? Wally Joe Jordham? Scroggins was obviously quite sure of himself, even though he didn't have enough finesse to get himself through a wet dream, let alone spar one-on-one with someone who had brains. She'd handled him easily enough this time, but what if he got his story a little straighter? What if, the next time she walked into his office, she saw lined up along the top of his desk, full color glossies of her and Steve Tanner fucking away like demented chimps? Well, she thought, buttoning her blouse. There were ... solutions, as he'd put it.
Her path back to her classroom took her along the edge of the parking lot. She watched as a car waited at the light, turned the corner with a screech of rubber and glide easily into the lot. The car was familiar to her. She'd been fucking her eyes out in its back seat not long ago. It stopped and Steve Tanner got out, walked around to the passenger's side and held open the door. Suzy Reed stepped out and as they walked towards the school, both stopped and stared in silence at Julia. Steve looked both leering and uncomfortable, as if he had all his lines perfectly memorized but had to go to the bathroom real bad. Suzy merely flinched when she saw Julia, visibly pulling back. Steve placed a comforting arm around her, whispered something in her ear with a grim look on his face and lead her away.
Julia's calm reasoning process turned to confetti. Refusing to think, forcing herself to keep her mind blank, she returned to her classroom, somehow fumbled her way through the remaining periods of the day and fled to the sanctuary of her house as soon as the last bell sounded. Once there, she stripped, drew herself a hot bath, poured herself a very strong drink and tried in vain to relax.
What could she do? What was left for her? There was no mistaking the implications of the two of them together. She felt the rage of furies swarming about her and could only jab pathetically in the darkness, and wait for them to show themselves.
When the doorbell rang later that night, she sensed that time had come. Steve Tanner's slouched stance on her front steps confirmed it.
"Hello Steve," she said dully. "What do you want."
"We need to talk, Miss Perkins. Seriously, we really do."
She knew she should have sent him on his way, maybe even given up with the whole business right then and there, phoned in her resignation in the morning and taken the first bus out of town. Instead, she stood silently aside and ushered him in.
"I don't know what to say to you Steve. We made a horrible mistake. Both of us. I'm afraid I'll have to answer for it." She lit a cigarette.
"So get to the point. What do you want?"
"Gee, Miss Perkins. I wish you didn't sound so mad. I kind of had some good news."
"So what is it." she said, growing impatient when he said no more. "I could use a little good news right about now."
He grinned insolently at her and took an envelope from his pocket.
"See what you think of these."
Julia opened the envelope, already knowing what she would find. Still, she recoiled at the sight. Suzy's camera focused well. Even through the window, she could make out the separate hairs surrounding her wide opened cunt. She saw the sheen on Steve's stiff cock as he buried it in her mouth. She could even see blobs of cum floating over her pussy lips. She must have gone through two rolls of film, thought Julia. They'd done everything that night, more even than she remembered. Steve fucking her in the ass, Steve buried in her cunt, licking her pussy, sucking her tits, she eating his huge cock. She recalled the heat she'd been in that night. Recalled the passionate desire she'd felt, the craving to feel that huge log plow through her. Suzy's camera work brought it all back, with grim reality. No where could she see the tenderness she'd felt, the joy. Pure fucking. That's what these pictures chronicled. Pure mindless animal fucking. Her face twisted in an endless variety of ecstatic grimaces, their bodies colliding in as many ways as she had been able to imagine. Yes, it was true. She'd loved it. Viewing these dim echoes, she still felt the heat, still felt his cock throbbing in her, still, God help her, wanted him to fuck her.
"These pretty much tell the story, don't they?"
"Yeah," he said. "You gotta hand it to Suzy. She knew how to get the job done."
She looked back over the pictures, then turned to face him.
"All right Steve. What does all this add up to? Where do I stand?"
He smiled triumphantly, and extracted another envelope from another pocket. He spilled the contents onto the table. There were six thin celluloid strips, dark reddish brown in color with tiny square sprocket holes in the sides. She felt like fainting.
"Are these all?" she asked finally, meaning both the negatives and the prints.
"Every last one."
"Steve, I don't know what to say."
"Why don't you say, 'Steve, how 'bout a drink?' " His confidence was unsettling, very unlike the untested boy she'd seduced in her classroom. Without thinking, she went to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. Her mind was racing. Could it be true? Was she to be passed over, at last. Was the cruel hand slowly pulling back into the clouds, the accusing finger turned away from her?
"I'll get some ice," she said and hurried to the kitchen. As she cracked the cubes into two tall glasses she felt that it was the awesome weight of tension she was shattering, breaking to bits and scattering to the winds. Damn she felt good! She had no idea what Steve intended with this visit, only that her gratitude and relief washed all doubts aside as they roared through her. She hurried back into the living room with the two drinks. She felt like getting drunk. Hell, she felt like getting laid. Her utter shock at finding Wally Joe Jordham in her living room with Steve when she returned paralyzed her instantly. A drink dropped from one hand and bounced on her fuck carpet. Alcohol and crushed ice splattered over her ankles. She stood, immobile, as they leered back at her.
"Miss Perkins, I believe you two have already met." Steve said this with an air of casual nonchalance that chilled her blood. She felt like she might faint.
"Howdy, Miss Perkins," Wally Joe said, nodding politely. "Those sure are some damn pretty pictures of you."
"Both of you get out." She knew her voice sounded cold and hard. She knew they didn't believe it for a minute.
"Miss Perkins," Steve said, standing up. "You might as well get used to it. You don't tell us a damn thing. Understand."
She looked at him, pleading. He was not affected.
"You sure do play some sweet assed games with people, don't you? Do you have any idea how badly you fucked up Suzy? Oh, I'll admit, it was a damn good move on your part. And it gave me the chance to play the hero and take all the responsibility off her poor little shoulders." He nodded towards the pictures.
"Look at it like this, Miss Perkins," said Wally Joe standing up and taking off his shirt.
"You were willing to fuck poor little Suzy to keep her quiet. Now you get a chance to really put your cunt where your mouth is." He unbuckled his jeans.
"You two stay away from me." Panic was full in her. She felt it spilling out into her eyes, the twisted lines of her face, the shuddering in her leg muscles. The boy who was no boy at all but a mountain of muscle and flesh dropped his pants. His cock stuck through his underwear and she quailed at its size. Massive. Unbelievable. She already felt it ripping her body in half.
She turned to run, but Wally Joe had a heavy paw on her shoulder and literally jerked her backwards into his arms. She struggled to break his grip but it was like trying to bend stone. Who said steroids were bad for you, she thought.
"Boy, you were right, Stevie old chum. She's one fuck of a live wire." He slapped her as hard as he could on the ass. "Goddam I love 'em to squirm." He slapped her again, even harder.
"Come on, you worthless cunt. Squirm!! ! " Another slap. "Squirm, I say!! ! "
He was hurting her badly, and hadn't even gotten down to business yet.
"Hoo-boy!! ! We gonna get laid tonight!! ! ! Hoooo-boy!! ! "
He spun her around. She spit in his face.
"Uh-oh. Steve, didn't you teach this fucking whore any manners when you fucked her?"
He reared back with his arm and slapped her across the face. It knocked her senseless. She saw stars. Then she felt his hands on her again, heard the tearing of cloth, felt her pants being peeled down her legs. A thick hand dug deeply into her crotch, and with several fingers plunging deep into her cunt, she felt herself literally lifted off the ground by her cunt, the weight of her whole body slamming down on the wet fulcrum of cunt lips against hand. She fell forward, into his body. He jiggled her up and down on his hand, her feet never touching ground.
"Oh God, put me down, please stop, OH GOD THAT HURTS!! ! PLEASE STOP IT!! ! "
He did as she begged, tossing her off his hand, spilling her body like an overturned drink onto the rug.
"On your knees, SLUT!! " he commanded.
She couldn't think, couldn't even gather her thoughts enough to wonder if any options were opened to her. She got to her knees. His cock was out now, stiff as a steel rod, long as an arm and thick as a tree.
"Suck it."
She made a move to obey, but her mouth would not open.
He reached down and grabbed a handful of her long blonde hair. He yanked up on it. Hard. So hard she felt her knees lift off the rug. She screamed.
"I said suck it, you worthless slut."
"Hey, Wally Joe, cool it man. You're gonna fuck it up real bad."
He turned to Steve with utter contempt.
"Stevie old boy, why don't you run along and leave me to the little lady here. I don't think you know how to handle a cunt like this."
"Hey come on. You said you wanted to fuck her, not kill her."
Julia was limp. Her hair was still in Wally's big hand and her head dangled like a puppet's before his engorged cock.
"Steve, I don't know about you. All week long you've been telling me this cunt hole needs to be taught a lesson. So do we teach her a lesson, or what."
Steve was silent for a long moment.
"No marks. No bruises. Understand?"
"Aw, that's half the fun," he said, giving her head a yank.
"I mean it Wally Joe. Don't hurt her."
"Well, if I can't hit this cunt, maybe," he said, clamping his other hand tightly around a bouncing nipple, " I can give her a little PINCH!! ! How about THAT!! ! " He said with a vicious vise-like pinch on the suddenly burning brown point.
"Oh Jesus," Julia gasped. "Oh God, stop, please, I beg you."
"I'll stop it when you're through fucking my balls off, you wet little slit, you. Now I said SUCK"
He thrust his dick towards her mouth and she had no choice but to let it in. She wanted to hurt him and she bit on the swollen head as hard as she possibly could.
"OOOOEEEEEDAMN!! ! That's the ticket.
YEAH!! ! " He just thrust his hips at her face harder, jamming the thick piece of meat into the back of her throat. She gagged, unable to breath.
"Come on bitch, suck it good. Real good. Oh that's it. Yeah ... all right!! ! '
She heard his words disintegrate into broken mutterings and groans and knew he was beginning to come. All at once he withdrew. The head of his cock looked straight at her.
"Beat it bitch. Beat me off into your sweet little face."
Frightened, wanting only to keep him from hitting her again, she took the cock in both her hands and began jerking him spasmodically, licking the head, biting it, jerking harder and harder until she felt the base of his cock sputter into orgasm, shooting the heavy load in his balls up into the shaft of his cock.
His wad gushed at her and splashed into her eyes. A second wad struck her in the cheek, and then he was back in her mouth, pumping her full of his jism. It was hot and she tried to swallow it, but felt some squirt back out around his cock. "Unh-unh ... none of that," he instructed her and she raced her tongue over the shaft to lick up the excess.
"Now scrape that mess off your worthless face and lick it off your fingers," he told her and she obeyed.
As she cleaned his cock with her tongue, he looked over at Steve.
"How 'bout that Steve Old Boy She done quite a trick."
"So what do you think? You want to fuck her, or what?"
"Yeah, I'll take a crack at her. For old time's sake."
He'd shed his clothes while she sucked Wally Joe's dick. Wally reached down and grabbed her behind the knees and lifted her by the legs into the air. She couldn't believe his strength. She dangled head down, facing his cock, while he lifted her pussy to his mouth.
"Ummmm, there ain't nothing so sweet as scared twat. Her Steve, have a whiff. Go on. It won't hurt you."
She couldn't see Steve, but she heard him say, "I think you're being too rough on her, Wally Joe."
"So what? What's she going to do about it? You've got the fucking pictures, right?"
"Come on. Let's cut it out."
"Shit, Steve, I guess you're a pussy too. Not as fine as this one, I'll tell you that."
He lifted her cunt to his lips again and licked with all the subtlety of a grizzly bear. She was upside down, growing faint. Her face pounded from the blood rushing to her head. Through clouding vision, she saw his cock dangling before her, saw it growing stiff, saw the huge sac of balls behind it Sac of balls. BALLS!! ! Of course. Could she do it, and live? Only one way to find out.
She wiggled her cunt in his face a little to distract him and it worked.
"Hey, she-likes it. Sure you don't want to jump in Steve? The water's fine."
Taking careful aim (it had to be right the first time or he simply pull her legs apart till she was ripped in two) she brought the flat of her palm up against his balls with all the strength left in her. She felt them mash against each other, felt them squish beneath her hand.
Kkkkkkkrackk!
He went rigid. She struck again and he dropped her like a massive burst of electricity suddenly flowed from her legs where he'd grasped her.
She broke her fall with her hands and as she tumbled onto the carpet, she saw that the full effects had not yet hit him. Working it smoothly into the motion of her fall, she jammed her foot into his crotch. That did it. like a sail cut from its mast, like a balloon with its air valve suddenly opened, he crumpled into a massive heap. Steve was dumbstruck.
"My God, you'll kill him."
"I certainly hope so."
He was out cold. His face turned a very pale white.
"Wow, you really did him in." Steve's voice was filled with awe.
"Get him out of here and you get out of here."
While Steve still stared amazed at Wally Joe's crumpled form, Julia ran to the table, gathered up all the pictures and negatives, picked up her lighter and raced for the bathroom.
"Hey!" Steve yelled. "Come back here." She heard his footsteps hard on her ass, but she made it. As he pounded wildly at the door, she set a mini inferno in her bathtub and fed the glossy strips into it, adding pieces of toilet paper to feed the blaze. When there was nothing but a pile of ashes left, she unlocked the door and confronted Steve. He looked genuinely scared. It made her feel good.
"I told you to get out. Take your pet moose with you. I'll kill you if you ever come near me again. So help me God I will."
He said nothing, simply returned to the living room, put his clothes on and dragged the still inert form of Wally Joe out the front door.
When Julia was certain that they were actually gone, she returned to the bathroom and examined her body. No permanent damage, she thought. None that was visible anyway.
She stayed up late that night. Beethoven's Sixth soothed her, particularly the last three movements-raging storm, shepherd's song, and the triumphant fifth movement with its transcendent upward sweep of the strings spilling over into the last grand melody. Her storm, perhaps was past. Her present calm, though maybe a bit premature, was soothing. She was finished with Clinton. She knew that now. She realized that she'd been through with Clinton from the moment she gave herself over to fantasies about Steve Tanner's cock. That line, so imperceptible when she'd first crossed it, she now saw as that one irrevocable step she'd finally taken in desperation, a step out of her rut, a violent breaking of a dull routine, opening her life back up to the possibilities of change, of growth. Unable to simply stand up and say, "This, I can no longer do', she'd instead placed herself in a position where she'd had no choice. She'd nearly been destroyed by it. But she survived. Was even now basking in the glow of new found strength and conviction. Yes, she was through with Clinton. But not quite. She had a score or two to settle. She knew how to achieve her ends, fast.
CHAPTER NINE
"Well, what is it, Miss Perkins. I'm very ... busy...."
Julia stood before Henry Scroggins' sweating face and knew she looked good. Her jeans were tight. Her thin sweater was tight. Her breasts, unfettered by bra or halter were firm and tight. And so was the thin line of her mouth.
"Mr. Scroggins, I think I need your help."
"Oh?" He returned his fountain pen to its holder on the desk and tried to hide the cross word puzzle he'd been working on. "What seems to be the problem?"
"I think you know the answer to that." She gave him a dazzling grin. Instead of sitting in the chair, she raised her foot to it and perched her elbow on her knee. His eyes slithered along the line of her hem,, right up into her crotch. He must have gotten hopelessly lost because he didn't come back out.
"I've been thinking about our conversation the other day."
"Oh yes, that," he said, suddenly waking up. "Well, uh, what about it?"
"You said solutions have a way of presenting themselves. Isn't that what you said?"
He seemed to want to answer, but could stop watching her long enough to think of a reply. She had placed her hands on her breasts and was slowly massaging them.
"Isn't that what you said?"
'"Um ... uh, yes. Yes! By golly. I did, didn't I. Yeah, I sure did...."
Julia was pressing the fleshy mounds harder now. She felt the thin sweater stretch and slid over her nipples. She knew that they outlined the entire shape of her breasts perfectly. She knew that Henry Scroggins was already going hard, probably a lot harder than Mrs. Scroggins
(God, what a life!) had ever gotten him.
"Henry ... " she sang to him. "I've got a bad problem, like I told you," lowering her voice to a whisper.
"Problem ... uh, what's that ... uh, Miss ... uh, Miss Perkins?"
"I've got a real bad ache in these." She gave her breasts a hard squeeze. "They're aching real bad to be touched. To be rubbed. To be squeezed. To be hurt, and bit, and chewed ... to be sucked and licked and fondled ... oh God, Henry, I want someone so bad to play with my breasts ... someone who enjoys ... hurting them ... hmmmm; wouldn't you like that?"
His face went slack when she'd emphasized hurting them. Soooo, she thought. The rumors had been true. Henry Scroggins enjoyed paddling little girls. Of course, as principal, his egalitarian policy of paddling all students with equal justice was condoned, even praised by the sterner types on the Board of Public Instruction. But the rumors persisted. She was willing to put them to the test to get what she wanted.
She walked around and wrapped her arms about his neck.
"You know, when I was a little girl, I can remember when I was naughty, my daddy used to take me into his room, and lock the door, then he'd make me take off all my clothes.
And I'd be standing in front of him naked and he'd look me up and down, then make me turn around and lay across his bed. Then you know what he'd do?"
"W-w-what w-w-would he ... uh, what ... uh, uh, would he ... do?" His voice was a thin little squeak.
He'd rub his hands all over my tight little cheeks. Then he'd take off his belt. And he'd beat me. Hard. And if I cried, he'd beat me some more. He'd make my tiny little buttocks glow bright red and when he was finished, I was always slippery and gooey between my legs. And you know why? Because it made me ... come." She stretched out the last word. He stared open mouthed at her breasts. His cock was hard and stood up straight beneath his baggy pants.
She raised her sweater, not all the way, just so the under curve of her breasts hung out. Henry's bottom lip began to quiver.
"Wouldn't you like to play with my breasts, Henry?"
She raised the sweater a little higher. The brown of her thick nipples appeared, the hardened tips, her full cleavage.
She pulled the tight sweater over her head and pressed her breasts into her face. He started to moan.
Her pussy quivered.
"Kiss them, Henry. Kiss my breasts."
His mouth was working involuntarily. Catching it when it was opened, she fed it a ripe nipple. He sucked, sucked until she thought he would suck the insides right through the hard point.
"It's been years since I was properly spanked, Henry, by a man who really enjoys it ... wouldn't you like to spank me. Wouldn't you like to paddle me? Whip me? Beat me?"
He was slobbering all over her now. She loosened her jeans. So absorbed was he in her tits that he didn't notice until she stepped back and stood before him wearing only her sheer see-through panties. He gurgled.
"Look at me Henry. Look at my body. Look at my breasts, my large, full breasts, so firm, so hungry for a man like you to abuse them. She kept her body in motion so that they swayed lazily from side to side. Then she slipped a finger beneath the elastic band around her thigh, and slowly, ever so slowly pulled it up, across the front of her pussy.
"This is all yours, Henry. You can do anything you want to it. Have you ever whipped a cunt? Does your wife ever let you tie her down on the bed, tie her with her legs spread wide, and three or four pillows under her ass ... does she let you do that Henry? Does she ever spread the lips of her pussy for you, spread them wide and beg you to use a thin leather whip on her clitoris?"
As she spoke, she spread the lips of her pussy. Her clitoris was large and easily poked through her fingers.
"See it Henry? See my clit? Whip it, Henry. Whip my clit. Whip my clit, Henry, I want you to whip my body till I scream and beg you to stop. I want you to tie me to a rack and take a leather strap to my breasts. I want you to tie my hands together and string me up on a hook in the wall and whip my thighs. I want you to tie me with my ass sticking high in the air and then I want you to take one of those paddles you use on the girls and I want you to spank me with it till I pass out from the pain. I want you to make me beg you to stop. I want you to force pleading shrieks from my throat and I want you to ignore them. Only when I've begged you to stop, do I want you to really whip me hard. Whip me Henry. Beat me. Turn me over on my knees, stick your hand in my cunt and lash my ass-hole. Take a strap to me, a cane ... anything you want."
By this time, she'd gotten up on his desk and was crouched down on her haunches. She closed her legs tightly, reached behind her and slipped her panties over her ass.
"I can feel my buttocks now, Henry. I'm running my hands over them. They're exposed.
They're open. Open to you. Open for you."
As she spoke, she worked the flimsy material down her still closed legs.
"You want to know something, Henry. My panties are wet. They're sopping wet. And do you know why? Because my pussy is wet. Juice is oozing all through it. I can feel it deep inside of me, flowing out towards my lips ... would you like to see my pussy, Henry . . .hmmmmm...."
She let her panties fall around her ankles, and slowly spread her legs. Her thighs extended upward at a sharp angle, her calves back down at an equally sharp angle from her knees. Her feet were beneath her ass. She crouched there on his desk, springing lightly on her coiled legs, each time opening her cunt to his wondering gaze. He had said nothing for the past ten minutes.
"See my wide opened pussy . . .do you know why it's so wet? It's thinking of you, it's dreaming of how you're going to whip it and make it come from the pain ... I know you want to whip it Henry. All you have to do is say so."
She slowly started to rub around the outer lips. She trickled her fingers through her moist hair, ran the tips of her fingers through the pink slit.
"Ohhh, I'm so wet. I'm wet because I want to be spanked by you Henry."
He was like a statue. She hardly saw him breathe, as if any false movement and this apparition would vanish from his life. She leaned back on his desk. With her fingers, she spread her cunt wide.
"Look inside, Henry. Look at my dark wet hole. It needs to be filled. It needs your cock. Stick it in me. Take out your cock and stick it in me. Now, Henry."
He was on his feet in a flash. Out with the cock, a few quick strokes to make sure it was good and hard (it was) and then he lunged for her nude body. She stopped him, just as the head of his cock touched her wet raw pussy meat.
"Wait Henry. We have business to discuss."
His eyes were wild. He couldn't speak, only groan in protest.
"That's O.K., leave it there. Rub it through my slit. But you can't fuck me yet."
"What?" he screamed. "Anything!"
She saw that he was about to come and squeezing just behind the head, on the bottom of his shaft, she brought him back, just as she'd done with Steve.
"Do you want to spank me?"
"Yes!"
"How much?"
"As much as I can."
"Say it."
"I want to spank you."
"Say, I want to spank you, you filthy twat."
"I want to spank you, you filthy twat!"
"Well, you can't" and as she said it, she scooted away from him across her desk.
"Wha ... " His eyes were pure torture.
"I want Steve Tanner and Wally Joe Jordham expelled from school. Thrown out. For good. I don't want them to graduate. Promise me right now you'll do that, and I'll fuck you into oblivion. And when you do it, I'll let you spank me. I'll let you do anything you want tome. But do it."
"I can't do that!"
"Sure you can, Henry. You're the principal."
"It's unethical."
"Look at my pussy, Henry. You'll never see another pussy like this as long as you live. You can fuck it, Henry. You can eat it. You can lick it. You can whip it."
He was utterly wasted.
"You don't know what you're asking."
"I know exactly what I'm asking. Plant drugs on them. Frame them. Do anything. You're the principal. You can make it stick."
"But why?"
"They raped me. I want revenge. You can help me. I can help you."
She turned around and stuck her ass high in the air.
"Not the same as the naughty school girls you paddle, is it, Henry. You can't even pull their skirts up, can you. You have to have a witness, don't you? Henry, you can whip me till you turn blue and collapse."
She flipped back around. She spread her legs.
"Come here, Henry."
She eased over to the side of his desk.
"Put your dick in my pussy."
She spread her legs and guided him slowly in. His eyes closed as she did. He moaned.
"Feel it wrap around you, Henry? Feel it grip you?"
She worked the muscles of her inner walls, setting up a rippling flow along his prick.
"Feel it talk to you, Henry?
Gentle waves of pussy flesh rolled along the surface of his prick. His eyes slowly crossed, then turned upwards, vanishing into the upper lids like swollen moons behind a cloud. His tongue was hanging out of the corner of his mouth and no coherent phrase had passed his lips for quite some time now.
He has no idea what's happening, Julia thought. All I have to do is reach up to that shriveled little sac and jussst-
"OW!! ! ! " Henry shrieked.
"Say you'll DO it Henry. SAY it. I want your word." I've got you by the balls you slimy little runt, she screamed to herself in glee.
"Yes. YES. FOR GOD'S SAKE YES!! ! "
She released his balls. She hadn't really hurt him. Just scared the shit out of him. But she had him. He'd promised. Try though he might, he was too spineless a worm to go back on it. He'd have to get through her first. Fat chance.
"Do you really mean it? You'll throw them out of school?"
He was gasping for breath, nearly overcome by the staggering weight of sexual tension. She reached out, and with gentle caressing strokes, slowly led him back to her pussy. She scooted to the edge of the desk, raised her legs up over his shoulders. He fell on her. His aim (lucky shot, she thought) was perfect.
He split her, arrow to apple, spear to its prey. She could not believe that Henry Scroggins could have so much stamina, could thrust so deeply. He was grunting each time he buckled forward with his hips, his cheeks puffed out, his face turned red. Julia rolled with him but for the most part allowed his movement to simply rock her body back and forth, so gently, back and forth. Her breasts flopped loosely to either side.
It was the rippling cunt wall though, that did Henry in. No sooner had she started her lazy pulsing flow over his imbedded meat, than he started up with this . . .really, it was a kind of animal sound. Maybe like a wounded ... she thought of hyena but then settled on goat.
Well, that was it for Henry. For the moment anyway. Blew your doors in, didn't I Henry? she thought. Yessir, you bastard.
He let his cock shrink out of her, then stepped back. If he'd just emerged from ten years in solitary he'd have looked no more disoriented. She wasn't sure but she thought his eyes were definitely locked on very non-parallel lines. Now to pound it home.
She stood up full on the top of his desk. Her dark patch of hair was inches from his nose. Reaching down to grab what little hair he had left, she forced his face deep into the wet folds of her twat. He struggled for breath; struggled, but not too seriously . Slowly parting her legs, she pushed his face down and under till' he was right up against her lips forcing them apart with the surface of his face. She rubbed herself up and down on him.
"Henry ... where do you keep the paddle?"
The infamous paddle. Every student had their own conception of what the paddle looked like.
"Why do you ... do you mean it?"
"Get it out. Let's see it."
He fumbled in his bottom desk drawer and produced the heavy flat piece of wood.
"Oh My...." She took it in her hands. She flinched inwardly when she felt its weight, tested its hard surface with a slap into her palm.
She rolled over on the desk.
"Give me five licks. Pretend I'm one of your naughty students."
Without hesitation he brought the paddle down across her warm buttocks in a long swing. The whack it made surely could be heard in the outer office. That should set the rumors off again, she thought, but no longer cared.
He slapped it across her again. God it hurt! But she hadn't been lying about her father's ritual when spanking her, and this harsh burning in the cheeks of her ripe ass ignited a flood of juice in her cunt.
Three more times he swung, three more loud sharp cracks. She moaned a long broad moan.
"Stick the handle in me Henry. Put it up my pussy."
She knew if she got him to do this, he was done for. He'd do anything to get another session like this. Anything!
He worked the paddle's wide handle between her wet cunt lips and she felt the wood stretching her pussy hole. For maybe a minute she let him work on her, then she reached down and pulled it out.
"That's enough. I ... umm ... think you ... get the idea?" She was on her feet again and hopped down with cat-like grace. She quickly dressed.
"There's more where that came from Henry. Don't be a fool. What does this job mean up against this? This is life, Henry. Experience! You have a chance to do something few ever do. Live your fantasy. Think about it. Do what I ask. And I'm yours. No strings attached. For a week. A whole week. Think about it Henry.
And she was gone.
The office was silent as a tomb when she stepped through the door. Not a movement could be discerned. Everyone stared at her. Disbelief gave way to astonishment. My God, she walks. She's real. Ha! Look at them, thought Julia. Hopelessly short circuited. Every tube blown. Out of my way, moles, we just raised the stakes in this game so far past anything you could imagine, it's not even funny.
Their eyes followed her to the door. She turned, smiled sweetly and walked out.
She decided to take the rest of the day off. Unless she'd been badly mistaken in her assessment of Henry, she was in for a hard week.
CHAPTER TEN
The teachers lounge buzzed like a broken beehive. Sad thing, all agreed. Very sad. Cast a bad light on the whole school. Ah well, what could you do. Who'd have thought that such two fine boys would do such a thing? And so young, too. Weren't they just thirteen year olds? Sick. That was the general consensus. Sick.
"Well, so much for papers on Melville."
Dave Ketchum's crude attempt at humor failed to get a rise out of her.
"Oh be quiet Dave. I think it's very sad. It's so easy for young boys to be led astray. I guess we all feel a little responsible. As if maybe we failed somewhere to provide guidance."
"I don't feel responsible. Hell, I didn't tell the two fools to go pick up two children and rape them. Christ!"
'Well, they do deny it."
"Of course they do! Wouldn't you?'"
It had been three days since she'd gone to Henry Scroggins. She'd drawn near to complete madness, wondering if He would take her up on her offer. The morning headlines had answered her question.
LOCAL YOUTHS IN BIZARRE SEX ATTACK
' Victims now expected to live.
Well Henry, she thought. You've got all the style of a cattle prod, but that's nice. That's damned effective. Suffice it to say that by the time Clinton heard of Steve Tanner and Wally Joe Jordham, Julia had long since forgotten Clinton.
She handed in her resignation the next day. Sudden illness in the family. She was needed, and all that. Everyone understood. Of course they did.
And then there was Henry. What about him. Should she skip out on him. No ... connections such as his, even if by marriage could obviously accomplish a great deal. She had a feeling that Henry Scroggins would be just as small and petty about collecting his debt as you'd expect a worm like that to be.
She went to his office the afternoon of her last day as a teacher.
"Well Henry, your staff will never be able to look at you normally again. You should have seen them when I walked in. This could start rumors."
"I don't care. I want to start. I want you. Tonight."
"All right, Henry. I'm yours." She took a deep breath. "Come to my house. That should be simplest."
"No. You come to mine. My wife's away for the week. I made sure of that. You come to my place."
"If you insist."
When she got to his address, she saw that the house was dark except for a faint glow through one of the windows from somewhere deep within. She stopped her car and walked to the door. He answered at once. He was nervous, but obviously quivering with anticipation.
"Well Henry, it looks like you're ready for me.
He nodded in mute agreement. His eyes were wide. He seemed not to know where to begin. Julia walked over to him and gave him a long hard kiss. He stuttered one back at her.
"I suppose you'd like me to get undressed?" she asked, her voice a throaty whisper.
"Not all the way." Just your shirt and pants. Leave your underwear on."
She did as he instructed and when she stood before him in panties and a sheer bra, he groaned.
"Do you like my body, Henry? Do you like the way it curves in and out?"
He nodded. She turned around and bent over. As if drawn by a magnet his hands floated to her ass and he ran his fingers across the tight slick material. He reached between her legs and felt the wetness there. He slipped his fingers beneath the crotch and into her wet slit. Again he moaned.
"Spank me, Henry."
He slapped her on the ass.
"Oh yes. Spank me again."
Again he slapped her.
"Harder, Henry. Harder."
He led her into the next room. He was shaking. She'd wondered if he had a room with hooks and racks and whips lined along the walls. But those items existed only in his fantasy. Here, he was simply Henry Scroggins, small town principal unhappily married and frustrated as hell. If his fantasy was to come true, she'd have to help him.
"Why don't you take off your belt. I think I'd like you to take off your belt and use it on win " me.
He obeyed. He stood there, not sure what he was supposed to do next. She looked around the room. She noticed the thick woven cord to the draperies.
"Here, tie me to this," she said walking over the the thick shrouds of material. He wrapped the cord about her wrists, then looped the end over the curtain rod and pulled her arms up above her head.
She slowly turned on the rigid axis of legs and extended arms, turned around to face him, breasts firm and pointing straight at him through her bra, pussy warm and wet. She gave him her most wanton, pleading look.
"Give it to me Henry. Now." :
The thick belt hung from his hand. Never taking his eyes from her suspended body, he slowly brought his arm back behind him. He held that pose a second, not knowing if he could follow through. :
She turned her back to him.
"Beat me! Strap my ass till it's raw!! ! "
He swung. A mighty swing, heavy with years of unfulfilled lust and craving for just such a creature as he found helpless before him, amazingly, at his disposal. The belt slapped sharply across her buttocks. She screamed. It was not an act. She screamed a scream of pain but also of release. She was free, and this ritual of forced pain, this reawakening of every nerve in her body, this final rejection of the mind numbing boredom of the last two years formalized her freedom, made it official. And the man who had administered to her slow stiffling death, now ushered her back into the world of sensation, of freedom, of life.
As a matter-of-fact, he was really getting into it now ... again and again the leather strap cracked across her skin. Getting a little carried away at one point, he'd torn her panties off her and dropping to his knees had sunk his teeth deeply into the exposed flesh. He was going crazy.
Julia's back and ass had been thrown far beyond pain. Not quite numb either, she simply felt the surface of her skin seem to swell, so engorged with sensation was it. He must have struck her a hundred times before slowing, stopping, taking a rest.
"...oh god ... oh ... Jesus ... " was all that Julia was capable of murmuring. He'd left her devastated. Yet, she knew this was just beginning. He forced her to lay spread legged on his sofa, while he administered stroke after stroke across her wet cunt lips. She couldn't help herself; it drove her to orgasm after orgasm, her body quaking at the spasms.
He whipped her ass-hole. He whipped her breasts. He used a cane on her that she brought to him on the second night, and she left at four the next morning, her back, legs and breasts all a crisscross matrix of welts and bright red stripes. He pushed her legs back towards her head on the third night and tying her wrists to her ankles, lashed both cunt and ass-hole at the same time. On the fourth night, he used a bundle of short leather thongs with frayed ends tied to a handle. Forcing her to bend forward on her knees, he entered her from behind and viciously swung at her cheeks. She came in a multitude of orgasms.
With each individual strike against her body, she felt herself being purged of Clinton, her soul cleansed by the pain, revitalized by it. It was good. Her flesh cried out, her cunt sang from the pain. Rising upward in an ever mounting crescendo, her spirit soared. She was awake. She was alert. She was alive.
