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It wasn't the actual sex that excited Tabitha. She could get sex from anyone, any time she wanted it. She had any number of guys practically begging her for a night of meaningless pleasure. She was beautiful, smart, sexy, and fun -- she could pick and choose.

But with Richard, it was something different entirely. He made her feel something. She wasn't even sure what it was. He was sexy enough. He had those alluring eyes that made her feel like a fourteen-year-old girl again, trying to sneak something past her suspicious father. Richard knew things, or at least his eyes suggested he did. It made her hot just thinking about it.

But it wasn't just that.

He had an athlete's body too. He was in his early thirties but he looked like he could kick a football player's ass without breaking a sweat, and when he was on her, she felt like she was really getting fucked -- seriously fucked. He wasn't rough or brutal about it like some guys were, but he was intense, and he had a nice thick cock that went in nice and snug, stretching her wide open, making her feel fourteen again as he pumped her. She never had to fake with him. When she came, she was really coming. She wasn't just putting on an act like she did with other guys, trying to spare their egos. When Richard fucked her, she always felt fucked when it was over, laying there in a sheen of sweat, struggling to get her heart down to a regular rhythm again, feeling his hot stringy come sliding off her body from where he'd sprayed it across her tits like he fuckin' owned her.

But it wasn't just about the sex. It was something... She couldn't put her finger on it.

Darren was on her now, inside her, thrusting in and out of her with his mouth hanging stupidly open. His breath smelled of pizza and vodka. College boys. Hmph. It was making her stomach sick. She threw her legs up, wide and high, giving him more access to her, letting him thrust harder and deeper, bucking against him and moaning like a porn star, like a little whore beneath him, hoping he would come quickly. The phone rang while he was on her and she was hoping it was Richard. She wanted to go check, but Derrick and his ego wouldn't tolerate that. Derrick? Whoops. Darren. Right. Mr. Pizza Breath. What was she even doing with him? He was good looking, sexy enough for his age, but he wasn't Richard, dammit! What the hell was she doing fucking a guy she didn't even want to be with -- a guy whose name she couldn't even remember as he thrust in and out of her?

Darren pumped at her, feeling like a king. Perhaps he thought he was some sort of king at the moment, but his motions were unimaginative, almost clumsy. She was wet enough, but she gotten that way by closing her eyes and thinking of Richard while Darren's tongue bumbled around her privates like a lost little boy looking for his mommy. Now he was fucking her, treating her pussy like she was a rubber doll, banging into her until her head clunked against the headboard above her. She squeezed him inside her. She increased her intensity, as though he were the best fuck she'd ever had. She cried out his praises. His cock was throbbing inside her. His mouth opened even wider. It would be over soon enough. Then she could check if it was Richard who had called.

"Oh, god! Oh fuck me! Oh yes! Your cock feels so big, baby! You're gonna make me... come!"

She threw herself into a wild fit of shaking and churning on him, a performance worthy of any porn star, and he finally surrendered. He sat up and yanked himself out, pumping his dick and spurting his mess all over her belly. He actually did look kinda sexy right then, and she knew she should have been incredibly turned on by him the way she had been the first time they were together. But she'd been with Richard since then, and Richard made Darren seem like a clumsy little boy.

"Oooh, baby! What a mess you made..."

Tabitha stirred the sticky goo around with her fingertips and licked some of it off her fingers. She cocked an eyebrow at him, and rolled off the bed. There was a towel across the chair by her dresser. She looked at herself in the mirror and wiped him off of her. Darren lay back in bed, his withered cock was flopped across his belly, defeated for now, but satisfied. He gazed at her dreamily, staring at her ass as she wiggled out of the room.

"Be right back, honey," she giggled. But as soon as she was out of the room, her smile changed to a grimace. Why was she being so damn phony, so ridiculously cute with him? She felt like she'd just been reduced to a cum rag by this guy. It almost made her skin crawl. She couldn't wait to shower.

She realized though that it wasn't Darren that was the problem. It was her. Darren was a perfectly good fuck, if not a little mechanical about it all. It was Richard that was the problem. Richard had left her feeling like she'd given him something beautiful, like they'd shared something profound. It was in his eyes. It was in his hot stammering breath. It was in the swirling stirring thrusts that seemed like it was drawing pleasure out of her rather than trying to bash it into her. Darren had lost before he'd even penetrated her, simply because he wasn't Richard. She wanted it to be Richard ploughing her up with that sweet slippery cock massage. She wanted the hot stretching ache in her vaginal muscles to be about him, his fat thrusting cock making her feel like a little virgin all over again. She wanted it to be Richard spurting his gooey stringy mess across her writhing body, claiming her, owning her.

It wasn't though, and now she had to get rid of this guy.

The number on the phone was her sister, Jess. She put the phone to her ear and checked the voicemail. Jess wanted to know if she'd caught the elimination round on the Sinsation Island show. Apparently Jack, her favourite young hottie in the cast, had surrendered and slept with one of the female contestants, eliminating himself from the competition. Big deal. The whole message sounded like absolute blather in Tabitha's ear. She couldn't understand how Jess could be so excited about it.

"I've gotta kick you out, Baby," she told Darren when she got back to the bedroom. "My sister's coming over. She's got some kind of crisis with her boyfriend and she needs a shoulder to cry on."

Lies, lies, lies, but necessary.

"One more round?" Darren said with a sexy whimper. He was stroking his cock. He was hard again. In spite of herself, she felt herself wetting all over again. She knew she would hate herself for it, but she climbed on top of him again, straddling him, feeling his harness against her already aching vulva, and stroking herself back and forth upon him.

"You're too much man for me," she said, and he grinned stupidly, a king all over again. Then she angled him upward and slid him inside her. Wet, sloppy-wet even, she swallowed his entire length inside herself in one smooth stroke. She closed her eyes and released a long sigh.

"One more round, and then you're gone," she said, securing him in the bottom of her with a little wriggle. She shivered at the feel of him nudging into her cervix, and then she began fucking him. She closed her eyes and began moving on him. She ground down on him, wriggled and swirled, milking his cock for whatever sensation she could get from it. It actually did feel good, but that was it. It was just nice. Not fan-fucking-tastic, like Richard made her feel.

Richard, the first time he slid himself inside her, made her feel like a virgin all over again. She'd been with exactly five guys since her first time -- a clumsy little romp with a high school sweetheart after a school dance -- but Richard made it all brand new again. He was ecstasy, better than her first time even -- he knew what he was doing. Shaun, bless his sweet seventeen-year-old heart, had tried his best to make her first time enjoyable, but it was only his third time ever having sex as well. He broke through her cherry, wriggled himself up into her tightness, fighting against the resistance of her trembling thighs and then promptly came after the fourth stroke. One... two... three... "Aw, god!" Done. It was lousy sex in the grand scheme of things, and it hurt like hell for the next couple days, but it was sex. She looked at herself with a smile in the mirror the next day, no longer a virgin. But then Shaun started treating her like a walking vagina and she wound up breaking up with him.

Daydreams floated through her mind as she rode Darren, memories of her and Shaun fucking like rabbits, fighting like cats and dogs, and then fucking some more, and then finally breaking up. Then she met Eric, fucked him after only the second date and never heard from him again. Then there was Eric's friend Tad. She held out for weeks, scared he'd ditch her like Eric had. She went down on him instead -- her first time -- and she sucked at it. She had no idea what she was doing, but wanted to give him something. He came in her mouth and she almost puked on him. Then she finally put out and once again the relationship dissolved into one non-stop fuck. Then, when Tad stopped calling after three months, there was Chris. She gave it up to him every day for three weeks, on the rebound big time, desperate for male attention, shamelessly throwing herself at him thinking she'd keep him if she gave him everything he wanted whenever he wanted it. It was fun for a while, and she became a fantastic little cock sucker in those couple months, but in the end it was she who got bored and tossed him. Because then there was Eddy, or OH-MY-GOD-EDDY, as she called him in the back seat of his car. He was-

Goddamn it! It was taking Darren almost a half hour to come while she bounced up and down on him, reminiscing in her mind about the more memorable fucks she had -- more memorable than this one anyway. By the time it was over, she was exhausted from faking at least a half dozen orgasms. Of course, just when she felt like she might actually come for real (thinking about Ed fucking her on the hood of his car by the lake with the engine running beneath her ass), suddenly Darren was blasting inside her, seizing up like an epileptic and pumping her full of hot white climax.

"Ooh, baby! That was wonderful! I came so hard I'm still shaking!" she said. She hadn't, she wasn't, but he didn't seem to notice. He grinned, feeling like a king, got dressed, and left.

Tabitha masturbated in the shower, grinding the showerhead into her clit like it was a hot slippery tongue, and came almost five times before she heard the phone ringing again. She got out of the bathtub on shaky legs and checked her voicemail.

It was Richard. That goddamn sweet sexy voice slid in like a dick in her mind, hot, thick, and stroking sweetly with every syllable he uttered.

"I got your message," he said. "I thought I'd call you and see if you wanted me to come over."

The message! Of course. She'd left him a message earlier, telling him she was day-dreaming about being on her knees in front of him, sucking on him until he gave her what he owed her, a nice hot thick load of liquid sugar. She'd left him that message while playing with herself that afternoon. He never returned her call. She'd been horny as hell, and when Darren called, she told him he could come right over. Dumb! Stupid! Idiotic! But it happened. Now Richard wanted her, and her pussy was worn out, a mess of dull ache from the hours of fucking with Darren. What was she to do?

"I'll mark that down as a yes," he'd said at the end of the voicemail, and she'd wet herself, almost staggering at the sound of it. Why!?

It was when she was on her way over to Richard's that she finally realized what it was about him that got to her. It was Mr. Hanson! That was it! As a teenager in school, she'd had the biggest crush in the history of school-girl crushes on her science teacher, Mr. Hanson (Mr. Handsome, she called him). "I'll mark that down as a yes," he used to say to them all when no one answered something he asked. Now Richard had used the phrase as well, and that wasn't the only similarity, now that she thought about it.

Her crush on Mr. Hanson had been so big, so deep, so complete, she'd even put a plan into action to seduce him one day when he was working late grading papers. She slipped into his room in a little skirt (without panties) and sat down in the front row of the classroom, just staring at him.

"Tabitha?" he said, looking at her with raised eyebrows, and then at the clock. It was nearly four.

"Yes?" she said, and opened her legs, knowing full well he now had a complete view of her pretty little pussy. She'd always been a little wild, but up to that point, that was the craziest thing she'd ever done. She wanted him to get all hot and hard and flustered, to break down and just take her right then and there. That was the fantasy anyway.

He stammered something at her, blinking about a dozen times in ten seconds, and averted his gaze. She crossed her legs again, overcome by the intensity of the situation.

"I just wanted to do some homework, Mr. Hanson. Is that okay?"

Take me and fuck me! Right here on this desk! Oh god, I would not say no! I'm so fucking wet right now!

"Um. The library's not open?"

She opened her legs again, and lifted one, spreading wide for him beneath the desk. She dropped her chin, and raised one eyebrow at him.

"Yes, but it's quieter in here. No one's around."

Tight virgin pussy, dripping wet and hot as an oven, just for you, sexy, sexy fucking man! Just fucking take me!

Yes, Tabitha thought, on her way to Richard's house. Richard was Mr. Hanson. Maybe not literally, but in her mind, in her psyche where it really mattered, it was him. Close enough, anyway. She'd almost completely forgotten. But it was coming back now. Mr. Hanson hadn't taken the bait that one afternoon, though she even went so far as to blatantly lick her lips at him, in the most dangerously sexy come-on ever, with the cool classroom air caressing her bare pussy. She was heartbroken when he got up and politely asked her to leave. She hurried from the room with tears in her eyes, humiliated, rejected, devastated. But in retrospect she knew it was probably the hardest thing he'd ever done. He passed up a wet and willing young cutie -- little blonde pig tails and all -- in exchange for his integrity, his professionalism, his very career. Very few men could have done such a thing. She was hot and curvy and she wanted him badly. But he turned her down. He was a good, decent man, and that only made her want him more.

But Richard had taken her. When they'd first met at the campus bar, she'd felt an overwhelming attraction for him, and she never could figure out why. There was just something about him. When she asked him to drive her home, he did. And when he asked him to come upstairs, he did. And when she took his drink from his hand, unzipped his fly, and went down on him on her couch, he didn't stop her. His cock was thick and her jaw ached by the time he finished for her, but she didn't pause for a moment. Somewhere inside her she'd felt like she had to complete this, absolutely had to! When he flooded her mouth with his cum and she swallowed the sticky mess with a sexy little shiver, he took her in his arms and kissed her, hard and passionate. Then he lifted her up right off the floor, into his arms and carried her to the bedroom, and when he fucked her, she felt fourteen again, like a little girl in a classroom, getting it for the first time from the sexiest teacher on the face of the earth.

Richard, if he wasn't Mr. Hanson himself, might as well have been, now that she thought about it. She pulled up in front of his building and hurried inside, spurred on by this new association.

When he opened the door, she fell to her knees in front of him, grabbed his pants and pulled him forward, turning his crotch to face her. She pulled him out of his pants and took a long, hungry lick along the length of him, one, two, three lingering, slithering licks, staring up into his eyes.

Is that you, Mr. Hanson? Is that you?

She massaged the wetness of her saliva into his shaft with her hand as she stared up at him, and then suddenly took him into her mouth, right there in the doorway. She looked up into his eyes and saw it again. It was him. His beautiful, wonderful cock disappeared into her mouth and she bobbed and sucked on him as though he were made of love and ecstasy and the very energies of life. He pulled backward, dragging her into his apartment so he could shut the door. She shuffled forward on her knees, gripping his shaft in her hand and the end of his cock in her mouth. He backed right up and fell onto the couch, and she came with him, hungrily tugging on him with her mouth and hands. She jerked her mouth off of him and went down to slather his balls in her adoration. Her tongue flickered. Her lips caressed him, playing with the skin of his scrotum in her suction. Then she wandered back up to swallow him again, never taking her eyes off his.

He lifted his ass right off the cushions when he came, crying out loud and long, and she jerked him with her wet slippery hands, all over her face, painting herself with his copious spurting mess. She sat there panting, wide-eyed, and grinning, staring at him excited, as the cum dripped off of her cheeks. He sighed happily, with gratitude as he stared down at her, feeding her his cum off of his fingertips.

"It's you, isn't it? It's really you. I knew it."

"Me? Who? What do you mean?"

"What's your last name, Richard?"

"Hanson. Why?"

"I knew it. I've dreamed of this day for so long. I knew it would happen some day."

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't remember me at all, do you?"

"We've been seeing each other for almost two weeks now. Of course I remember you."

"That's not what I mean, Mr. Hanson."

"What do you mean then?"

"You don't remember me, Tabitha Martin?"

He looked at her with a furrowed brow. A dribble of cum dropped from her cheek and spilled down onto her left breast. He smeared it in with his thumb, trying to figure out what she was talking about.

"I teach a hundred young women every year at the college, and I knew hundreds more when I was at the high sch..."

He trailed off. She raised her eyebrow at him, knowing that he suddenly recognized her.

"Tabitha Martin... the young lady in the front row, after class that one afternoon... oh my god..."

She grinned and went down on him once more, licking up the trickles of cum from his shaft and off the back of her knuckles. He knew her now. His eyes widened.

"It's been seven years, Mr. Hanson. I'm not surprised you don't remember me. You were only what, twenty-two back then? I was only fourteen, skinny, dorky, and clueless."

"Yeah..."

"I'm all grown up now."

She suckled on him once again, taking his thickness into her mouth, keeping him hard. She flicked her eyes upward at him, massaging his cock with a sweet wriggling of her tongue.

"Yeah..."

"And you've gotten even sexier."

"As have you, Tabitha."

"Wanna fuck me now, Mr. Hanson?"

He nodded. He picked her up off the floor and carried her to the bedroom, laid her twenty-one year old body down on his bed and made love to her, first with his eyes, then with his hands, then with his mouth, until she was begging for his cock, almost weeping from the angry frustration of her flowing wet but empty pussy. Then he was inside her, his thick hot cock stretching her like she was fourteen all over again. And all the world was ecstasy.

Except when she opened her eyes, it wasn't Mr. Hanson. It was Darren, pumping at her with his stupid open-mouthed panting and his unimaginative thrusts. And she wasn't twenty-one and in college. She was fourteen. And she wasn't in Richard Hanson's bedroom. She was on a mattress on the floor in the basement of Darren's place. Just an old mattress. There wasn't even a sheet on it. It itched like hell, but she moved under him like she owed him.

"Aw, Tab. Aw, fuck. So tight..."

It was the goddamn pizza breath. It snapped her out of the fantasy the way something always did when she was with him. She could barely stand Darren anymore, but he was the closest thing to anything that looked even remotely like Mr. Hanson. Same build. Same colour hair. Same lazy, sexy smile. But Darren was no Mr. Hanson. Darren was a drunken frat boy who called her up every once in a while when all the college girls said no. And she went down to his place every time, like the dumb little slut she was. At the very least he was practice until she perfected herself for the real thing.

"Oh god, baby! Oh yeah, fuck me hard! You know how I love it! Give it to me! Come all over me!"

The fantasy was gone and she just wanted him to finish, spray it all over her and let her go home. He gave it to her, pulling out and coming all over her face. She grinned her fake slutty sexy grin and licked it off her fingers. Ten minutes later she was on her way home again.

But as usual, she crept by Mr. Hanson's house, staring at him through his living room window from the sidewalk, watching him in the dark, stroking himself by the light of the TV, and she wished to god she had the courage to knock on his door and offer to do the stroking for him. She wanted to bathe in his hot spurting ecstasy; she wanted to personify his every orgasmic pleasure.

"One day, Tab. Only seven more years..."

In the meantime, she had her fantasies.

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