Learning Something New
Used by permission of the author's estate
© 2005 STEVESAINT
urrying home after class, I wasn’t thinking too much about the fact I broke one of my hard and fast rules of teaching: don’t invite students to your home. My name’s Stuart (friends call me Stewey, but I won’t let my students call me that) and I teach English at the local Junior High. My “rule-breaker” was Lynn, a troubled ninth-grader who I had invited to my house this afternoon for some additional tutoring. I really liked this girl. She seems so innocent and vulnerable and fragile that I had to reach out to help her with her failing English grade, so when she asked if she could come over to my house after school for some extra work, I agreed. My wife would be home, so I wasn’t too worried about appearances.
When Lynn knocked at my door—with my wife Sherrie still not expected home for another hour-and-a-half (she left a message)—I did feel slightly nervous about this meeting, but assured myself everything would be fine. Something about her, standing at my doorstep, momentarily caused me to catch my breath. Did I ever notice what a cute girl she is? I welcome her inside. Even though I motion for her to take a seat on the sofa, she makes a 360-degree turn taking in the sights of my living room. What is she looking for? I ask myself, as her small frame slowly sinks into the cushions of our sectional sofa (…familiarity?). I’m not that stupid (at least not yet) so I sit in the opposing chair, not next to her, as we discuss the lessons that have been troubling her lately. I sensed something was “off” but was too dumb to figure it out until she rose from the sofa and started to dreamingly remove her clothes! I sat speechless, as she silently continued the striptease, first down to her little girl panties (!) and then everything else. She reclined on the sectional, not saying a word, and gave me a little ‘you-like-what-you-see?’ smile. Oh yes, I’m thinking, as my erection stretches my pants. What am I going to do now? When I don’t move, she begins to touch herself, all the while staring at me, as if challenging me to do something. She slowly slides from the sectional to the floor, and begins to masturbate in earnest, as if I’m not even there. And maybe I’m not, I think, since I am paralyzed with indecision—and yes, fear—sitting here watching this magnificent spectacle. This little teen girl, with her budding tits and almost hairless pussy, is finger-fucking herself in front of me; I’ve got the biggest hard-on I’ve had in ages, and I can’t move!
[I need to back up and explain something to you. My wife of twelve years is a really good-looking woman, but our sex life hasn’t had any sparks for a long time. For the past few years I’ve thought she was having an affair, but haven’t been able to confirm my suspicions. I am an old fashioned guy, but I blame myself for her losing interest. I haven’t been the most responsive husband lately, always worrying about school and everything. Even though it hurts to think she’s been cheating, I don’t blame her in a way, so I remain faithful to our marriage. I tell you this not to excuse what I contemplated doing to Lynn right then, but to set the stage for what’s about to happen.]
My jumbled brain short-circuited when my wife opens the front door and sees us there. Oh shit, how the fuck will I explain this? Amazingly, instead of flying into a rage, Sherrie smiles at us and says the most amazing thing: “Why haven’t you fucked her yet, you dumb shit?”
She walks over next to Lynn, who looks up at her strangely (lovingly? Not afraid?), and pointing down at her, says to me “this beautiful creature is right in front of you hotter than hell, you’ve got a stiff cock, and you just sit there with your mouth hanging open like a stupid toad.” Her tone softens as she says to Lynn “Come on, sweetheart. I told you he wouldn’t do it. Let’s go into the bedroom and I’ll make love to you as you know I can.”
What the fuck does that mean? Is this girl my wife’s lover? Silently, Sherrie helps Lynn to her feet and they move off to our bedroom, ignoring me completely. I sit there in the living room a while, emotions tearing me apart. Confusion: I’m married to a lesbian? Anger: is that how she thinks of me…a dumb shit? A toad? Embarrassment: I couldn’t satisfy her, so she turned to a teenage girl?
With all these thoughts swirling in my head, I eventually leave the chair and walk toward the bedroom. Am I also curious to see my wife ‘screwing’ another woman? I tiptoe the last few feet to the edge of the doorframe, peering in. My naked wife is lying on our marriage bed with Lynn lying behind her, nibbling at her ear and caressing one of her breasts. I can see that Sherrie is in heat, moaning softly as her hips writhe, begging for action. Lynn rolls her onto her back and kisses her passionately. She then slides atop Sherrie into a 69 position and begins tonguing her wet and swollen pussy-lips. Sherrie climaxes almost immediately in a paroxysm of orgasmic pulsations, screaming at the top of her lungs (my wife a screamer?) The sight transfixes me; both of them aglow with sexual tension…my wife still not satisfied by the lovemaking and wanting more. As I watch from the doorway, they hump each other in various positions, as first one then the other orgasms; Lynn trilling like bird when she cums, Sherrie screaming as I never heard her before.
Their lovemaking consummated, Sherrie looks at me as if she fully expected me to be watching. “Are you gay?” She sneers. “I would have jerked off a long time ago if I was you.”
My humiliation turns back into anger. What, you call all that licking and grinding sex?” I shout. “I guess you don’t want to be fucked anymore, do you?”
Sherrie laughs and mutters something about “forgetting.” I didn’t get the rest of what she said, but it pissed me off anyway. I lost it and approached the bed, stripping off my clothes as I went. Sherrie was a little surprised by my fully engorged erection, which I must admit was harder and thicker than anything I’ve experienced in a long while. “I’ll make sure you remember…” I sputtered, as I pushed her back down on the bed, flipped her over onto all fours, and grabbing her ass, plunged the full length of my cock into her. She gasped and put up a little struggle, but it wasn’t going to stop me as I rabidly pistoned in and out of her. She joined the action, thrusting her hips backward to match each of my forward thrusts. As Sherrie cums, with another blood-curdling scream (Wow!), Lynn is near the foot of the bed finger-fucking herself again.
My orgasm nearing fast, I think of teaching Lynn a lesson as well: what will she do when I butt-fuck her tiny ass? The thought sends me over the edge, but instead of cumming in my wife, I pull out, pivot, and send stream after stream toward Lynn, coating her young body with gobs of cum. She jumps in surprise, not really knowing what just happened, obviously never having seen a man cum before.
I don’t give Lynn a chance to think about what just happened. My cock still rock hard, even after cumming, fueled by anger as much as lust, I push Sherrie dismissingly toward the headboard and reach for Lynn. Before she can react, I prop her onto all fours and push her upper body to the bedspread, leaving her little ass sticking up into the air. I reach around to her stomach and scoop up a handful of my cum. Using it as a lubricant, I coat her tiny little pink/brown anus with the dollop and plunge my cockhead into her. She cries and tries to kick away from me, but I hold her little body tight and continue my assault. Holding her ass firmly, I quickly get into full rhythm, sinking my cock to the hilt with every thrust, all the while oblivious to Lynn’s cries of pain. Her super tight ass and my madman pace give me the best cum of my life. I felt her constrict quite a bit—did she orgasm, or was it the pain? I really didn’t care as I shot load after load, filling her rectum. I pulled my cock from her with a “plop,” dribbles of cum leaking from her ass as it sinks to the bed.
I look at Sherrie. I expected anger from her for what I just did, but instead I got awe. “Why don’t you ever fuck me like that?” She asks, and frankly I don’t have an answer. Sherrie kisses me hard and whispers “let me make things right with Lynn, and then we’ll talk, OK?” I nod and get off the bed. As I pick my clothes off the floor and exit the room, I hear Sherrie murmuring something to Lynn. I heard “love” and “felt good” but didn’t catch any more of what was being said. I get dressed and wait in the front room.
About 20 minutes later, I hear the back door open and close. My wife, dressed in her bathrobe, enters the room and sits next to me on the sofa. Holding hands, Sherrie begins to tell me the story. Clearly looking ashamed, she confesses how lonely she has been, acknowledging without accusation how my concentration on schoolwork left her feeling frustrated and alone. She told me about the day she met Lynn at the local coffee shop, discovering she was one of my students. They talked for hours, hitting it off despite the age difference. Sherrie continued to see Lynn, as the friendship turned to love. During one tryst, Sherrie confessed to Lynn her love for me, and how she wished the fire of our honeymoon could return. An adoring (and I guess sexually-charged) Lynn suggested the plot that unfolded today. I apologized for what I’d done to Lynn. Sherrie surprised me, saying that Lynn was OK, telling her she really liked “doing it that way,” and that she promised not to tell anyone about today. Sherrie proceeded to tell me that she loved me with all her heart, but explained that her relationship with Lynn would have to continue for a while, for both their sakes. She asked me for acceptance and forgiveness. I gave it to her. I apologized to her for not meeting her needs over the years, making her look for love elsewhere. She pooh-poohed the thought, and said she never stopped loving me. She looked into my eyes, smiled, and started rubbing my crotch. “Can I feel a little bit more of that fire you showed in there” she says, pointing her thumb at the bedroom door. She helps me out of my clothes while dropping her robe to the floor. God, did I forget what a beautiful woman she is! We stand there in naked embrace, kissing more passionately then we have in years.
In a throaty whisper, she asks, “Why don’t you fuck me like you did Lynn?” Without a word, I guide her to the sectional and lay her upper body face down on the sofa, her knees on the floor. I spit onto my fingertips and work them into her anus for lubrication. I spit another gob into the palm of my hand and rub the shaft of my now stiff cock, then penetrate her. I may have been a bit gentler than I’d been earlier with Lynn, but not by much. My thrusts grew faster and faster as I bottomed out deep in her rectum. We came simultaneously…me with a series of pig-like grunts…her with this primal scream (Did she EVER climax like this before?)
[Three weeks later]
We’re both friends and lovers again! We are talking to each other more, sharing more of our feelings, and more in love than ever before. I know she is still seeing Lynn. I admit it did bother me a little, until today. When she came home, Sherrie confided in me that her and Lynn had had sex earlier. She told me Lynn still had vivid memories of me fucking her, and wanted more. I asked my wife if it really was important to Lynn, and could she accept it if I did her again (horny memories of that young teen body intrude on my thoughts). Sherrie nodded (eagerly?), saying, “as long as I can be a part of it (a threesome?)
Sherrie called Lynn and invited her over. While waiting for her, Sherrie and I took a playful shower together, both to freshen up and as foreplay. When Lynn knocked, Sherrie let her in, dropping the robe to the floor and kissing her languidly. I sit naked on the edge of the sofa arm, watching my wife and this young girl in passionate embrace, my cock stiffening up at the sight. Sherrie leads her over to me. With a flushed complexion, Lynn stands there alternately looking into my eyes and at my erect member. Wordlessly, I undress her and kiss her lips, then lift her in my arms and head to the bedroom; Sherrie following us, breathing in shallow gasps (horny as hell, I think, but is it because of me or Lynn?) When I lay her on the bed, Lynn immediately rolls onto her belly and scrunches her ass toward me—begging me—with this look of utter NEED on her face. Sherrie is hugging my ass and literally pushing me towards Lynn’s cunt. I kneel on the bed straddling Lynn’s upright ass and place the head of my cock between her engorged (and very wet!) labia. I enter her slowly. Wow, is she tight, I muse, and then remember she’s probably never had a cock in her pussy before today. I begin a gentle but steady rhythm, going deeper with every thrust. She’s so tight I know I can’t last long, so I shorten my stroke to maximize the pressure against her clitoris. She begins to cum; emitting a birdlike warble that slowly grows with intensity along with the contractions of her vagina. Feeling the spasms of her tight pussy walls gripping my cock, I’m close to the edge. When I feel the first spasm of ejaculation, I try to pull out, but Sherrie tackles me, pushing me deep into Lynn, where I spew shot after shot after shot of cum. I can’t believe it…Sherrie knew I was cumming and kept me from pulling out…does she want me to impregnate this teenager? I gaped with astonishment at my wife, but she wasn’t paying attention to the look on my face. Sherrie was as close as any human woman can be to a bitch in heat. She was panting, her whole body a flushed, deep red tinge, her ass and hips twitching uncontrollably. I know she badly wants both of us. Watching Lynn and I—the two people she loves most—in the throes of orgasm turned her thermostat up all the way to the limit. I guide my hotter-than-hot wife down on the bed next to Lynn. They clinch in an almost animal-like lust, exploring each other’s body, eliciting every sensation they can from the other…two sweaty bodies writhing as one, until explosive waves of orgasmic pleasure sweep over them both.
Watching this woman and this girl get each other off, I start getting hard again. Sherrie looks up and motions for me to lie next to them on the bed. I cuddle up next to Lynn, who has her eyes closed, still coming down from her high. Sherrie whispers something to Lynn, causing her to open her eyes and look at me. OOH, it’s my turn again, I realize. Sherrie scoots over Lynn and straddles my erection and starts riding me. Lynn then straddles my face and starts riding my obliging tongue. I’m in heaven, I think, as trickles of teen-girl pussy juice mixed with some of my leftover cum drip down my throat. Our orgasms are staggered a bit, but we ride the waves in giddying delight for what seems like an eternity.
From that day forward, Lynn was a regular fixture at our house. Oh, by the way, I gave her a B in English (an A would have been too obvious, don’t you think?)