LESSONS IN PHYSICS

(mF exhib)


I was sixteen, an awkward teenager that wanted to do the things 
that any male teenager would want to do, but shy and nervous around 
women.  I was not too bad looking, being tall, blondish, and evenly 
featured.  But I suppose I was a bit of a geek, being scientific-
minded and wedded to my schoolbooks.  I'd also been a bit socially 
handicapped by the fact my father's job had us move to a new town 
every year or so, which is not really enough time for a teenager to 
break into any really cool social circles that are going on.  The 
people worth knowing already have long-time friends, and the people 
who want to know you are themselves mainly geeks. 

This time my father was based at a University town, and we lived on 
campus.  This gave us access to various facilities, like a gym and 
swimming pool.  On Sunday afternoons my brother, sister and me 
would go there to swim and just lay about in the sunshine.  After a 
while we got to know who were the regulars at the pool, though 
being a bit reserved we did not do more than just say "Hi!" and 
"Bye!" to them.

One regular was a lady we knew only as Mrs Burrows.  She was a high 
school physics teacher, married to one of the University staff.  My 
sister took a dislike to her, because she seemed to fancy herself 
and flaunt herself a bit.  It was reputed that she'd been having an 
affair with another married member of faculty staff, and that her 
husband either didn't know or didn't care as he was pretty absorbed 
in his work.  

Appearance-wise, Mrs Burrows was not one to really stand out in a 
crowd, despite her apparently high opinion of herself.  She was 
probably in her early forties, fairly trim - all that swimming, I 
guess - though a bit of cellulite here and there, and wide hips 
with legs maybe a tad short for her body.  Her face was plain, with 
eyes a bit closer together than the average, and nose a bit long.  
But at the pool she liked to dress in a mini bikini to show off her 
best assets.  These were her pointy breasts, and a broad, nicely-
rounded backside that she liked to keep stuck out behind her. In my 
virginal condition I found the sight of her scantily clad figure 
fairly stimulating, and she became the object of a few of my 
masturbatory fantasies.

There was another regular at the pool, in his mid-twenties, who 
bore an uncanny resemblance to popular images of the Greek God 
Adonis.  Blond, well muscled, but unselfconsious about it, and a 
nice guy.  It was obvious that Mrs Burrows had a crush on him.  My 
moralistic sister would make comments under her breath, like "Here 
he comes.  Look at her!   Strutting like a peacock!".  And it was 
true.  She would always strike some kind of a pose as he 
approached, while pretending not to notice him.  When he said "Hi" 
she would go "Oh, HUL-LO!!!" and animated conversation would ensue.  
He was just being polite to her, but you got the impression that 
she would have dropped her knickers for him in a flash.

Meanwhile I was struggling with the Physics syllabus at my high 
school, though I was doing well in other subjects like Biology.  
Dad had this idea that I should get some private tuition to boost 
my grades, and it so happened he had run into someone the other day 
who was qualified in the field and had time on her hands.  You 
guessed it, Mrs Burrows!

I was despatched to her house early one evening for the first 
lesson, and knocked on the door.  She was home by herself, as her 
husband was working late.  A common occurrence, I would later find 
out.  We spread my books out onto her dining room table.  

"Thanks Mrs Burrows, I appreciate you taking the time to help me".

"Jill!  Call me Jill.  Now, what topics are bothering you the 
most?".

I started off explaining how I was okay on formulae for motion in a 
straight line, but circular motion was a problem.  I showed her the 
pages that were bothering me.

She was pretty patient with me, and a good teacher.  She would take 
me back to the very basics and build her explanations from there, 
and had the knack of not making you feel stupid just because you 
didn't know things right away.  I was starting to get my head 
around that topic, however I was all the while being distracted.

She was dressed just for being around the house, with an Asian-
style wrap around skirt ("sarong", I believe they are called) and a 
sleeveless cotton T-shirt, with no bra. This was pretty obvious - 
her pointy breasts jutted out against the T-shirt material like 
ice-cream cones.  This in itself was distracting, but things got 
worse for me when she leaned forward on the table to write out 
equations for me.  Then, sitting back to see what she was writing, 
I could see in through the armhole of her shirt to her armpit, and 
the side of her breast.  I could see its swelling shape clearly, 
though the angle was wrong for seeing anything of the nipple.

My line of questioning was changing, in a way that got her writing 
out more and more stuff for me, just so I could sit back and 
pretend I was looking and absorbing what she was writing.  But I 
was captivated by the sight of her lower breast in profile, as it 
jiggled in time to her writing.  Being an inexperienced lad, I was 
feeling hot blood flushing my face and ears every time I got a good 
look, and my knees were trembling a bit with my excitement at 
seeing something that so far I could only imagine about.

Anyway, I finished that lesson without betraying the fact that I 
had been sneaking peeks at her, and hoped she would put my 
distracted air down to difficulty with the course material we had 
been studying. 

That night in bed I furiously beat my meat with the image of that 
breast profile fixed firmly in my mind, and it didn't take me long 
to reach a satisfying but messy climax.

Next week when I went, she had just finished showering and was in a 
flannel housecoat, which wrapped about her and was tied by a belt 
of matching material about her middle.  She didn't bother changing, 
so we spread our books as before and started on a new topic.  Her 
housecoat was prone to gaping, being only held by the belt at her 
waist.  Fortunately her style of teaching today involved more talk 
from her and just listening from me, as she demonstrated some new 
concepts by writing them out on paper and explaining them to me.  I 
just had to go "Mmmm,  mmmmm" and sound intelligent, which wasn't 
easy as this time I could see right down the neckline of her house 
coat.  Since she was leaning forward a lot to write things, the 
housecoat would fall away from her chest.  As she adjusted her 
posture in the chair I was suddenly able to see an entire breast 
and most of her midriff too.  Well, my knees started knocking, and 
I was sure she would notice me trembling.  Her breast hung like a 
pointed cone and I could see all of it, even the nipple.  It was 
puffy, with the entire areola raised up from her breast to make it 
very prominent.  A truly delectable sight.

I tore my gaze back to the page in front of her, as I was being 
required to pay attention to the derivation of an equation she had 
written.  My eyes had perhaps lingered too long on her cheeky 
little breast, as she was now regarding me with a faint smile and a 
bit of a twinkle in her eye.  Had I been busted?  If I had then she 
made no mention of it, and for the rest of the lesson I got 
repeated glimpses of that breast as it dangled from her forward-
leaning torso.

That night I jacked off not once, but twice, leaving my dick sore 
afterwards.  I couldn't get the thought of this, real breasts on a 
real woman, out of my mind.

For the next lesson, Jill was dressed to thrill.  High heels.  A 
short black skirt that stopped halfway down her thighs.  A red silk 
blouse with, you guessed right again, no bra.   It was held 
together starting from its third button, which showed enough bare 
chest to demonstrate that there was no bra.  If confirmation were 
needed of that, her nipples showed clearly as swellings under the 
fabric.

"You're looking nice tonight, Mrs Burrows.  Do you have plans for 
later?" 

"Stop calling me Mrs Burrows, it's Jill.  Yes, we have a faculty 
function to attend right after this, but don't worry, there's time 
for you to have a full lesson.  I'm still waiting for Harold to get 
ready".

The lesson passed okay, not as much flesh to glimpse this time 
though the blouse did not leave much to the imagination.  It would 
not have been so bad if her breasts sagged down or laid flat on her 
chest, but they were just so damned pointy!  Though not large, they 
stuck straight out, and you could not help noticing them.

We finished the lesson, and she promised to drop me home in their 
car on their way to the function.  But Harold was still not ready.  
He would pop in every so often, a tall but stooped man, balding and 
with boffin-ish glasses, to ask "Where's my tie?  Where's my socks? 
Where's my cuff links?".

Meanwhile Jill moved to a sofa and waved me to an armchair opposite 
her.  Up till now things between us had been strictly schoolwork, 
but to kill the time waiting she started chatting to me and asking 
questions.  Like, have you made many friends yet?  Are you playing 
any sports at school?  Have you met any charming young ladies?  No?  
A good-looking guy like you?  I was embarrased at the last 
question, and not really used to being asked this kind of stuff by 
any woman other than my own mother.

It was hard to answer properly anyway, because I was again being 
distracted.  She was reclining back into the sofa, with her legs 
crossed.  This kept her decent, but I could still see a lot of 
thigh.  Tanned, from her pool visits, and a little dimpled in her 
softer, inner parts.  

She had now mercifully steered away from my lovelife ( or lack of) 
and onto my siblings (How many? How old? etc), but .. then she 
uncrossed her legs.  Initially she'd kept her knees well together 
as if held by velcro patches, but whenever her husband came into 
the room with another "Where's my such and such?" she would turn 
her body to answer and her legs would be parted.  Sitting opposite, 
with an electric jolt I realised I was looking straight up her 
skirt to her crutch.  Couldn't really see much with her thighs 
still that close together, but there was a black triangle outlined 
at the centre junction of those pale limbs.  I took my eyes away, 
only to see her looking directly at me.  This time I really had 
been busted!  She MUST have known what I was looking at!

Didn't seem to bother her though, because she maintained an 
inscrutable smile and kept on chatting away until Harold arrived 
resplendent in his evening attire.  For an organisational disaster 
area like him, he managed to scrub up well.  Since she'd already 
scrubbed up long before, we could now go to their car.

That night, I ended up with blisters on my blisters.  I'd seen her 
"pussy"! (as I'd heard other boys crudely put it).  Well, not 
really, I actually only saw her panties, but they were small and 
sexy and a far cry from the utilitarian items that cropped up on 
our family clothesline.

What's more, she'd SEEN that I'd seen her pussy, and didn't seem to 
mind! In fact, she seemed to encourage it.  My mother and sister 
were both quite prudish - I had NEVER seen any of my sister's bits 
and she would have freaked if I did.  Obviously there was more 
spice and variety to womanhood than it had ever been my business to 
know about.  

And equally obviously, my virginal imagination started to fantasize 
about how future physics lessons might develop.  Like, who might 
make the first move?  In my fantasies, it was I who pulled her 
close and crushed my lips to hers.  But the reality was different - 
I was too inexperienced to judge where was that line  that 
shouldn't be crossed, and my inclination was to stay well clear 
rather than risk any major transgressions.

Next lesson she was welcoming, and gave no sign that she'd caught 
me gazing at her crotch the time before.  She was in a casual mood, 
and had a glass of red wine in her hand when the door opened.  I 
wasn't going to get much glimpses of naked flesh though, because 
she was dressed modestly for a change, in large t-shirt and long 
beach shorts.  

Sitting beside me at the table with my books, she still managed to 
be pretty damn provocative and as distracting as ever.  Not by 
flashing me peeks of herself this time, but rather through 
unwitting physical contact.  To point out something on the page, 
she'd lay her arm over mine and leave it touching for a tad longer 
than was really necessary.  She'd lean close to see what I was 
writing, her shoulder brushing against my arm.  

"Oh, how rude of me!" she suddenly exclaimed.  "I haven't offered 
you a glass of wine!"

"Uh, that's okay Mrs Burrows" I said, being almost totally unused 
to alcohol.

But she'd already bustled off to fetch the opened bottle and a 
second glass.  I sipped it a little as she sat beside me again, 
seeming closer than ever.  Her thigh bumped against my leg, and it 
was like an electric shock that made me pull away.  She pointed to 
my latest series of equations, explaining how to manipulate the 
formulae, with her arm resting upon mine.  She was definitely 
moving into my "personal space".  I was extremely conscious of her 
womanliness, and her very nearness caused me to get an erection 
that simply would not go away.  I was jittery, like a cat on a hot 
tin roof, and her leg pressing this time firmly against mine did 
nothing to reduce the twitching of my cock.

She poured herself another wine and topped up my glass, which 
finished off the bottle.  Since I'd only supped a half-glass by 
this time, it meant that she'd single-handedly accounted for the 
rest of it.

"There's another one on the kitchen bench.  Could you be a dear and 
open it for me?  I'm not good with corkscrews, I'm afraid".

I went for this damsel-in-distress routine only too eagerly, and 
got up, conscious that my dick was making a tight little tent in my 
shorts.  But after rummaging around her tiny kitchen for a moment I 
was unable to locate the corkscrew.  I told her so, and she came to 
look for it.  She squeezed past me into the kitchen, and somehow 
contrived to have her hip brush firmly against the front of my 
pants, right against my erection.  I pulled away, but it was too 
late to conceal it any longer. 

She reacted with "Gosh!", then turned and saw me blushing hot.  Her 
voice all innocence, but with a smug smile, she asked "Is that a 
canoe in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?.

I was too green to know just what a cliché this was, so said 
nothing.  It was a rhetorical question anyway, and she answered it 
herself by putting out her hand, grasping the pole in my pants 
between thumb and forefinger.  I nearly leapt out of my skin!

"That's no canoe" she murmured.  "You've got a hard-on." 

The line of proper behaviour had been well and truly crossed now.  
She moved closer in front of me, her gentle squeezing on my shaft 
making little up-&-down movements.  Gazing mischievously into my 
face, she asked "Is this on account of me?"

"Y-y-y-yes" I stammered.

"I'm very honoured."

She felt her way along my entire length, from top to bottom and 
back to the top again.

"Lovely strong cock.  Can I take it out?"

My silence was interpreted as assent.  She slipped her hands into 
my waist elastic and slid my shorts and underwear down to my knees.  
My cock sprang out as she knelt and grasped it, pointing it at her 
face.  One hand wanked me gently while the other cupped my balls, 
and she examined my prick from all angles.  The feeling was 
glorious - it really is nicer when someone else does it!  But 
glorious as it felt, it could not prepare me for what came next.  
She suddenly leaned forward and took me deep into her mouth.  Dear 
God in Heaven!  I'd thought ladies who did that only existed in 
works of fiction.  Suckling at my cock like a teat, she was giving 
me sensations like nothing I'd ever imagined.  Her eyes gazed 
wickedly into mine as her cheeks hollowed inwards with each suck, 
making little slurping noises.  Such warmth and wetness, such 
delicious friction!

Wisely she then leaned away again, because I could not have taken 
very much more of that.  She stood up and turned to the door.  
"Come" she said, on her way out of the kitchen.  I yanked my shorts 
back up and went after her like a love-sick puppy.

She pulled her t-shirt up over her head as she went in through her 
bedroom door.  She was bra-less, but I already knew that.  Her 
shorts hit the deck, and she stood before me in just her panties.  
"Arms up!" she commanded, and whisked my own t-shirt off.  Then my 
pants were once more at ground level.

She put her hands on my waist and pulled me to her, until my cock 
was jammed against her rounded stomach and her nipples brushed my 
ribs.  My arms went around her until my hands rested on her bum.  
Her nakedness felt so nice!  Her hips swayed slightly so that her 
tummy was rubbing my cock back and forth, and she started nuzzling 
my chest with nose and lips.  In those days I'd hardly an ounce of 
fat on me, and she'd have found me pretty lean and muscular.  A 
real toyboy.  Her lips found my nipple and she tugged at it gently, 
tongue flicking.  It was mind-blowingly good, and my cock seemed to 
get a half inch longer by way of a response.

"Fuck, you've got a good body" she said, the profanity not seeming 
at all shocking to my innocent ears under these circumstances.  She 
pulled my face down to hers and we kissed, long and sweet and slow.  
Her mouth melted into mine, and her tongue swirled and flickered.  
So erotic.  I was trying to savour it, and remember as much of it 
as I could for later, but my senses were reeling.  

Then she pushed me back until I fell on the bed, and she got 
astride me.  Her breasts hung down like stalactites, and she 
dangled them above my face.

"I know you like looking at these" she whispered down at me, her 
first spoken acknowledgement of the peeks she'd been flashing. Now 
I was getting a full and unobstructed view.  They were about six 
inches above my nose, long and pointed with puffed-up caps.  She 
huddled lower and laid one against my lips.  I nibbled and tasted, 
experiencing their softness and smoothness.  Then my lips found a 
teat and I sucked it into my mouth.  So satisfying to have it 
lodged there, to be able to pull my face back and stretch her 
breast out even longer, lash my tongue over it and feel its point 
go hard like a pebble.  I let it go, and sought out the other one.

Preoccupied with her breasts, I'd been oblivious to the fact that 
she'd ooched herself back until my cock was wedged under her mound, 
but now she started firmly grinding against it.  The full length of 
me was jammed against the front of her panties, which was very 
stimulating for her, judging by the look of concentration on her 
face, but not as good for me as what she'd been doing back in the 
kitchen.  My hands started to roam, smoothing their way over her 
back, over her panty-clad behind, and along the silky tops of her 
thighs.

She rolled off me onto her back, lifted up her bum and slid off her 
panties.  I raised myself up on one elbow and looked down at her, 
breasts now flattened out toward her armpits, brown tangle of pubic 
hair sprouting off her mound.  This was my first good look at a 
totally naked woman, and my eyes were everywhere at once trying to 
take it all in.  My images of womanhood had 'til then been rather 
two-dimensional, so it amazed me to find how narrow her waist could 
be and how  her hips flared out to such big legs compared to my 
own.  She held my cock and gave it little squeezes, but otherwise 
just lay there and let me poke and prod, caress and stroke, as I 
toyed first with her puffed-up nipples, rubbed her round belly, 
then circled her broad thighs to end up at my ultimate goal, in 
between her legs.  Her fanny hair looked coarse and thick, but 
really was soft and downy as my fingers strayed though it.  Her 
pubic mound stood out a lot higher than I expected, and I could cup 
it in my hand, pressing its sponginess and slipping my fingers down 
closer to the cleft between her thighs.  

She parted her legs to admit my hand deeper, but on touching her 
there it felt so soft and delicate that I drew my hand back, 
thinking I might hurt her.  She took my wrist and thrust my fingers 
back down, adjusting them until I felt a heat and a slickness 
suddenly break out of nowhere, at an entrance that unfolded at my 
very touch. Admission was easy now, my probing fingers just fell 
inside that taut tunnel and anything they poked or touched brought 
little moans and whimpers to her throat.  

"The top!  Touch the top!", but not understanding, she had to draw 
my hand up to the highest extent of her wetness.  I wasn't 
completely sure of what she was enjoying or why, but her eyes were 
closed and her face had a look of utter concentration as my fingers 
fiddled back and forth over a little lump in that area.  

Suddenly she reared up over me, pulling my prick to her and 
cramming it urgently against her entrance.  She sat down on me hard 
and I was swallowed up, completely buried in what felt like hot 
velvet.  Grabbing me by my shoulders, her hips started rocking and 
grinding in hard regular movements.  Her breasts flailed about 
before my face, and long, low groans came from deep in her throat.  

I was being totally ravished by this demon woman.  She was using me 
like a living dildo, and all I had to do was just hang on for the 
ride. I couldn't last for long, and didn't.  I knew from wanking 
when I was about to come, so could tell that I was soon about to 
come. I felt her insides pulsing, squeezing me as her body 
shuddered, and this was the last straw for me.  Hips thrusting up, 
trying to get in as deep as I could, my stuff started squirting and 
I felt it change her insides - an extra heat and a difference in 
the friction. This was so unlike wanking.  The closeness, the 
nakedness, the bodyheat, the pent-up tension followed by release, 
the ... well ... the stickyness.  We were sticky.  Really wet and 
sticky.

She collapsed down onto me and lay there, breathing heavily.  We 
were still joined, but my prick was shrinking up now and feeling 
kinda messy.

"You lovely boy.  You lovely, lovely boy" she whispered into my 
ear.

"Thanks, Mrs Burrows" I said, rather gratefully.

"For fuck's sake, call me Jill!"

After a few minutes she rolled off me onto her back.  I kind of 
snuggled at her side, slipping my hand down between her thighs and 
up against her wet, matted entrance.  Her juices were starting to 
get a little cold now, but it felt erotic anyway.

She looked at me, a little bit in shock.  Now her ardour had cooled 
and, horniness sated, reality was setting in. Under her breath she 
said "Oh my God!".

"What" I asked.

"Look at you! You're just a boy!  I've practically raped you!"

I was bit miffed by this, especially as right now I felt like more 
of a man than at any other time in my life.  I took my hand out and 
rolled away from her.

"Do you want me to go home?"

"No.  I mean, yes, my husband will be here before long.  I'd like 
you to stay, if it were possible.  But it's not.  I mean ... shit!"

I wasn't used to hearing teachers swearing, though I suppose they 
must do occasionally, just like other people.  Still, she was 
naked, and we'd just finished ... well ... "fucking", so what the 
heck.  My first ever, what's more.  But was she going to get the 
guilts about it now?

I started getting dressed.  She got up, and came and hugged me.  I 
hugged her in return, and enjoyed again the feeling of having my 
hands on her naked backside.  

"I'm sorry.  It's just that you seem so innocent, and now I've 
corrupted you.  I'm not going to make you get all disturbed or 
anything, am I?"

"No, I don't think so.  It was wonderful."

The feel of her buttocks against the palms of my hands was 
definitely disturbing, and I was starting to get a hard-on again.  
But the imminent arrival of her husband made me think twice.

"And you can't tell anyone.  You mustn't tell a soul!"

"No way, ah ... Jill. Look, I'll go now, but ... when can we do 
this again?"

Again? I could see her mind reeling.  She'd uncorked a genie from a 
bottle, and was probably now wondering how on earth she's going to 
get it back in again. 

Well at least, that's the impression she'd been giving me up 'til 
then.  On the other hand, maybe she was just a pretty good actress.  
Because right then the stillness was shattered, by a loud 
"ATISHOOO!"

It seemed to emanate from the depths of her wardrobe ...






If you liked this story (or not), be sure to let me know at 
timos111@hotmail.com