November
The change in Karl and Ulrika was noticeable. It was if a boil had been lanced: the resentment and hostility were draining out of them, and our lessons became more concentrated and productive. As their knowledge had grown and they had realised that they were achieving something, their efforts had increased, and I felt energised and motivated by their feedback. A virtuous circle – the best kind. Of the two of them, Karl was the easiest to influence. He was a natural follower and all he really needed was a role model to show him how adults behaved. I guessed that his own father, absent, and interested only in outward appearances, was not the best one. Ulrika was more complex. She projected a knowing innocence that was both confused and confusing, and her disillusionment with her family was almost total. Neither of her parents had a clue that their daughter was highly intelligent but to me it was glaringly obvious. I felt hints of a strong sexuality, ruthlessly repressed, as if it was a secret that she couldn't share. Sometimes she and Karl exchanged knowing glances, or appeared to share a private joke, but I couldn't quite reach far enough to understand it.
The weather was growing colder and the big house had a chilly feel to it. I made sure that my room and the classroom were pockets of warmth and persuaded Frau Kurtz to permit the empty fireplaces to be used for their proper purpose. In the evenings as we concentrated on our work, pine logs crackled and spat, and the sweet smell of the wood fire helped everyone's spirits. The kids took to doing their school homework in the classroom and I welcomed the feel of other people close. I'd moved the furniture in my room, placing the armchair in front of the fireplace at an angle, so I could stay warm and see into the classroom at the same time. In the evenings, with Karl and Ulrika working quietly and me reading or playing with my laptop, there was an air of cosy domesticity that enchanted me. It was almost like having a family.
It was warm and quiet and I was half dozing in the chair. Karl had gone to his friend Fritz' house to work on a science project and Ulrika was sitting at the classroom table, her head bent over a book. I half opened my eyes and looked at her, trying to reach past her concentration and discover more about what made her tick. She seemed to feel something, for she shook herself slightly and shifted her position. There was an air of repressed excitement about her and I wondered what had happened to animate her. She was still wearing her school uniform and from the angle where I was sitting I could see her legs under the table, long and slim, disappearing into the shadow of the ridiculous tartan skirt. I hadn't moved the chair just to be closer to the fire. Temptation is a terrible thing.
As I watched, she uncrossed her legs and drew one up onto the chair, tucking it under her. The skirt stretched across her knees, and the flickering light of the fire showed me tantalising glimpses of her thighs. She was used to my pre-dinner naps and paid me no attention. She reached under the table and scratched her thigh, pulling the skirt up a little and moving her body so that she was facing the fire more directly. When she raised her hand again the skirt was higher up her legs and the soft glow from the flames showed her parted thighs almost completely. I felt my prick stir.
I realised that she was displaying herself deliberately. Whether or not she had unconsciously felt me trying to reach her, she had waited till my book had slipped onto my lap and I had seemed to be asleep to begin her fidgeting. I sensed a quiver of her sexual excitement: she seemed to radiate hidden wants that she couldn't express, but which she would allow to peep out as long as she thought I wasn't aware of them. She looked up from her book and glanced at me, then pushed her pen off the table. Not taking her eyes off me she leaned over and stretched down to pick it up. Her slim young body flexed as she did so, then she straightened up and dropped the pen back onto the table. It clattered softly. I stayed still and kept my breathing soft and regular. I even managed a slight snore. She appeared to make her mind up.
I saw a hand move down under the table and pull the hem of the skirt up to her waist. With a shock I saw that she wasn't wearing panties, and the firelight was illuminating a soft nest of blonde pubic hair above the intricate pleats of her pussy. It looked as if she'd never trimmed her little bush and a tangle of curls half hid her delicate lips. My cock twitched and I concentrated on staying still. With her eyes still fixed on me she brought her other hand to her crotch and fiddled with the hair on her mound and along the outside of her lips. She teased it upwards and out so that it framed her young cunt, revealing her genitals completely. The uncertain flicker from the fire made the soft fleece glow like a lewd halo. She held her splayed hand above her pussy, holding the lips apart with her fingers, then ran the forefinger of her other hand the length of her slit, lingering at the top, massaging her clitoral sheath and then dipping into the folds, dragging down the length of her crack. She leaned back slightly to get a better angle and I saw the finger slide round the tiny rosette of her anus and flex slightly as she forced the tip gently into her asshole. I was glad that my book had slipped onto my lap when I'd first nodded off. My cock was beginning to feel hot and I had to concentrate to stop it jerking.
Her wrist rotated slightly as she screwed the finger into her secret place and I saw her stifle a gasp as her hips began to roll. She pulled it out, and ran it back up her slit, pausing as the tip approached the entrance to her vagina, then I saw her thighs spread wider. Two slim fingers disappeared into her depths, and her other hand moved down and started to rub her clitoris lightly. She hadn't let a sound pass her lips and her face was rosy as she struggled to contain herself. I felt as if the book was going to fly off my lap and bounce into the fireplace. Her eyes were still on me but now they were half closed and her hands moved faster.
I could almost feel the rhythm, and sense the soft clinging moistness that her fingers were encountering as they stirred her recesses, the hard nub of her engorged clitoris sparking waves of pleasure into her core. Suddenly her face turned bright red and her cheeks puffed out as she stopped herself moaning out loud. Her thighs began to quiver and her hands were a blur as her orgasm swept over her. I could see her body rising and falling as her buttocks clenched and relaxed, then the peak hit her and she sat stock still, her head thrown back, her breath hissing through her flared nostrils. The scent of her arousal wafted over me, half hidden by the faint smell of woodsmoke. My cock was like a steel bar and it took all my will power not to get up and kiss her. Her body relaxed and she drew her skirt down, rearranging her legs decorously. She licked her fingers and wiped them on her sleeve and turned to her book again. The whole display had only taken four or five minutes. She must have been hotter than a firecracker, I thought.
Ten minutes later Karl crashed in through the door.
'I'm back, and only just in time. Supper time, Uli. Luke, wake up, it's time to eat'. I stirred and opened my eyes. I didn't need to fake a sleepy voice. My mouth was dry and the words came out slowly and thickly.
'I'll eat out tonight, kids. Give Frau Ugly my apologies. Is all your work finished?' They both nodded. Ulrika's face was still flushed. 'Go on, then. I'll see you tomorrow'. I let my eyes half close again. Karl looked at Ulrika. She shrugged and gathered her books neatly into a pile. They left the classroom quietly and I was finally able to move.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Half an hour later, showered and in clean clothes, I strolled through the chill evening to my favourite bistro. I had resisted the temptation to masturbate and my groin felt swollen and heavy. As I turned into the doorway I saw that there was a party of seven at the big table at the back of the restaurant. I sat in my usual booth and waved hello to Gustav the barman. The place wasn't busy and he bought me a glass of wine without being asked.
'Where's Olga?' I asked. 'Day off?' He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
