Ha! I hope the welts last a bit, so he remembers. It should make him hard each time he feels them against his trousers or the sheets.
I loved his cock tapping against my cunt. I always love that, makes them so vulnerable, so alone out there in the universe: all those throbbing lonely cocks. Lost. Looking to get in.
He took to me tracing that lower lip with my milky dew, took it like a hungry baby. But the control of the penetrationāitās always the first big thing. I love that absolute moment when it begins. I go out of time like a slow-motion film. His cock was perfectāhard as my heels, sharp too.
I mewed and moaned like a bad opera singer, but with the ferocity of Callas, with the virility of a Valkyrie. I nearly purred, more of a growl, ha! He was my sleek young panther. We were two cats on a similar prowl. The heat of him inside me was terrific. I miss it already.
ā
Buona notte, Roberto bello
.ā
I grinned, cupped his crotch tenderly and left him abruptly at his door with a sunken look on his face. I nearly hesitated but kept my resolve not to share a bed.
Itās more real if I speak it.
āRobert from Yorkshire, you came so close.ā
* * * * *
The Chemistry Teacher
by
Mathgirl
Hannah called a greeting as Emil van Zant came into the diner for his usual after school coffee. She recalled an unfortunate incident that was still being talked about around the small town.
Mr. van Zant was the chemistry teacher at Snippitsville High. As the class had started that fateful day, Emil knew he was in trouble. He had forgotten to put his noontime dose of medication in his pocket when he left home that morning, and a frantic phone call to his wife had gotten his pill to him just before the one o'clock class began. He could feel a spell coming on, but he still had hope that the drug would kick in before disaster struck.
Emil was the victim of an unusual neurological disease called Tourette's syndrome. It is characterized by uncontrolled muscular spasms, usually in the form of bizarre facial tics. Some Tourette's sufferers also experience coprolalia ( literally meaning "speaking excrement"). This manifests itself in uncontrollable outbursts of vile language. Van Zant's case involved both facial tics and naughty words. A drug regimen had been found that controlled his affliction and allowed him to lead a normal life, free from the unfortunate symptoms. Free, that is, as long as he took his Haldol on a rigid schedule. That day, though, Emil began his lecture fearing the worst.
The students, unaware of their teacher's condition, sat attentively as Emil began his lecture on the periodic table of the elements. He was using a wooden pointer to pick out the halogen elements on the large chart and telling the students about the properties of the chemicals.
He said, "These are all gasses in their elemental state, but they combine readily with other elements to form compounds with entirely different properties."
Then a massive tic struck Emil. His facial muscles contracted into an exaggerated wide smile, as if he was trying to touch his ears with the corners of his mouth. At the same time his tongue pressed against his lower lip, forcing it outwards. When he made this remarkable face, some of the students laughed, thinking Mr van Zant was making some kind of a joke.
The tic passed after a few moments, and Emil bravely continued with his lecture. "Chlorine, for example, combines with sodium to form sodium chloride. We know this as common table salt, and .... WAWAWAWAWAWA........... uh, oh ............COCKSUCKER!! ........... Oh, gosh, I'm terribly sorry. As I was saying the compounds that result from the combination of ............... EAT SHIT, MOTHERFUCKER!! .......... Oh, dear, I can't ................ Awwwwwwwww FUCK!!"
With that, the teacher ran out of the classroom and headed for the faculty parking lot. He was yelling something unintelligible and probably in poor taste and wielding his pointer as if it were a saber.
Outside, Emil was cornered by the assistant principal before he could reach his car. After the disurbed teacher called him a "shit eating cocksucker" and threatened him with his pointer, the administrator summoned a member of the campus security force. The cop, alarmed by the teacher's facial expressions and upset at being called a "pig fucking shitass," used a choke hold to subdue the troubled teacher.
Van Zant was taken to the psychiatric department of Snippitsville Hospital, given a sedative, and put into the quiet room to calm down. When he awakened, Emil wondered how he had gotten there and how his lecture had gone, remembering nothing of what had happened during his one o'clock class.
Hannah was quite fond of the young teacher and hoped he had taken his medication that day.
* * * * *
Senior Superiority
by
Wildsweetone
Last weekend Neil had mowed the lawn, sprayed the weeds around the edging of the lawn, stacked wood in the wood shed and cleaned the guttering and down pipes on the house.
This weekend heād started on his workbench. His son had been playing āhandymanā again and almost every tool from the back board had been left lying on the bench. It didnāt worry him that his son used the tools, but it really pissed him off that he never bothered to put anything away.
He grabbed a rag from the bag, began picking up the tools, wiping each one and replacing it against the blank pattern heād spent hours stencilling on the board.
He knew full well his son had other things on his mind. Girls. That was the latest problem to set him wandering around dopey eyed. Neil had watched the young girl when she was preoccupied in the kitchen with his wife. The way Mandy had sashayed past him had him gulping scalding hot coffee. That hadnāt been a bad thing, heād felt stirrings in his groin and the burning liquid had sure taken his mind onto other things fast.
But the way she leaned over the kitchen bench while she chatted with his wife, whew! It brought him out in a hot sweat just thinking about it. When sheād bent over to pick a dropped fork from the floor, heād gotten a birdās eye view of a whole lot more than he should. Thankfully his son had seen the same thing and rushed up behind her to āhelp get the forkā or something.
Yet even that hadnāt been as shocking as when theyād been eating their desserts. Ice cream and strawberries, and some of the strawberries had been dipped into chocolate. Heād not been able to take his eyes off her luscious mouth as sheād sucked and licked the chocolate from the biggest strawberry. When sheād caught him watching, she had waited deliberately until their eyes met before winking grandly. Her knowing grin made him squirm in his seat and swear he wouldnāt look up from his bowl ever again.
It was when he felt bare toes creeping up the inside of his leg that he fell apart. Whipping off his napkin then slamming it down on the table, he excused himself and hid in his study. It took him a full 45 minutes to calm down enough to consider going back into the dining room. He thought better of it, instead pouring himself a generous helping of brandy, he sat with his empty pipe and latest Stephen King epic on his lap unable to read a word. His eyes glazed over and he flicked the switch on the standard lamp smothering the room in warm darkness.
Moments later they sneaked into the study. Before he could announce he was sitting there in the dark, he heard muffled giggles, slurping kisses and clothes hitting the floor. With his humiliation almost complete, he placed the brandy balloon silently on the desk and poked his fingers in his ears, closing his eyes tight.
His wife found him that way an hour later. Heād fallen into a deep sleep, looking rather comical with unlit pipe in his mouth and his fingers in his ears. Marion smiled, woke him, then helped him to walk up the staircase to their room. She helped him undress then dressed herself in the only way she knew would help ease his need. His second sleep was more peaceful and the smile still hadnāt left his face a week later.
* * * * *
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