The Secret Life of Darla Ensington

Independence Day is a federal holiday in the United States commemorating the Declaration of Independence of the United States, on July 4, 1776. The Continental Congress declared that the 13 American colonies were no longer subject to the monarch of Britain and were now united, free, and independent states.

It wasn't the Fourth of July yet, but Buck decided to set off some fireworks.

He wasn't celebrating America's freedom, instead expressing joy that he and Dylan had completed their last day of community service.

Both still wore their grass-stained jeans and dirt-covered tee shirts. They couldn't wait to hit the shower.

But first, Buck was busy setting off firecrackers, Lady Fingers and Ground Spinners.

"A bit premature, don't ya think?" Dylan laughed.

"Hey, we're celebrating," Buck said. "The end of our sentence..."

Was it the end of something? Or just the beginning?

***********

The two Kansas teens were out for a bike ride one Monday and were about to pass Darla's house.

They seemed drawn to it, and, even though there was no need to get out of the street, they altered their course so that they rode up on the sidewalk, right out in front of their sexy former teacher's residence.

Both were overjoyed to see she was out, planting some flowers.

"Gettin' down and dirty," Buck whispered to his buddy.

Dylan urged him to shut up, but Buck's comment was apt.

Darla was on her knees, leaning forward, her big ass gripped tightly and snug by a pair of blue cotton shorts.

The boys felt compelled to say hello.

"H-hi, Ms. K," Buck stammered nervously.

She turned around, holding up her hand to shield her eyes from the bright sun.

"Hi, fellas," she said. "Out for a ride?"

"Yes, mam," Dylan answered. "Needed something to do..."

"Oh, I hear ya," she answered. "All of this free time in the summer can get kind of boring. You need stimulating activities to keep you occupied."

The boys loved to hear her talk.

"We're done our community service," Buck announced proudly.

"Great," she gushed. "Doesn't it feel good?"

Both nodded.

"Well, I'll tell ya," Darla said, springing up from the flower garden. "I think that's enough for today. Would you two like to join me for a lemonade on the back patio?"

They couldn't say yes quick enough.

"Yes, mam," Dylan said, beating Buck to it.

She giggled.

"I'll meet ya back there," she told them, heading towards the front door and gesturing to the boys for them to go around back.

***********

Lemonade never tasted so sweet and refreshing.

But as the boys sipped their summertime drink, they struggled thinking of what to say.

Darla beat them to it.

"So," she began, taking a sip. "How 'bout those Royals?"

The boys appreciated her breaking the ice. And doing it with talk of baseball, nonetheless.

"We're actually Cardinal fans," Buck admitted.

"Cardinals are good. Hey, that's fine too," she offered, toasting them. "Hey, ya never know. Maybe they're on a collision course for the World Series."

"That would be gnarly," Dylan chimed in.

"Herman's a BIG White Sox fan. Huge," she said. "He (laugh), actually has a bat autographed by Carlton Fisk. Herman says, 'that's the only thing that makes me geek out - my White Sox.'"

The two boys could appreciate that.

They talked some more about the great American past time, had some oatmeal raisin cookies to go with their lemonade, but the boys felt they needed to clear the air.

Again, Darla was way ahead of them.

"Boys, I have to ask," she said with a gentle smile. "What made you come back that second time?"

Again, her smile eased things quite a bit.

"Meaning...when you...found us in the closet?" Buck wanted to clarify.

"Uh-huh," Darla nodded in the affirmative. "You said that was the second time you were in there. So what made you come back that second time?"

Buck and Dylan didn't know how to explain.

"My closet must have a gravitational pull stronger than Jupiter," she laughed.

Buck coughed to clear his throat, but couldn't find the right words. He was stuck in neutral.

Darla tried to give him a kick-start.

"Boys, listen," she said in a calming tone. "My mom was a sex therapist and sex education teacher when I was growing up. So I heard a WHOLE LOT of different stories and anecdotes along the way.

"I'm no expert, mind you, but I'm a pretty good resource. Sharing with me what intrigued you about the sessions Herman and I have could really help me...help you. I'd like to guide you if I could. And to tell you the truth, Herman and I would be curious to hear...how our antics played to an audience. Even just an audience of two."

She was so charming, so endearing. The boys began to open up.

"We, uh...," Buck began, then stopped out of nervousness.

"Go 'head, hon," she encouraged.

"We, uh, really liked...watching you boss him around," he said with a delightful, naughty, boyish grin, which gave way to a blush.

She smiled warmly.

"And it was kinda wild that, uh, he was completely frickin nude...and you were fully clothed?" Dylan added, his statement sounding like a question at the end, since he was so surprised with what he saw, given the saturation of female nudity in popular culture.

"You were taken back by the role reversal," Darla wanted to clarify.

"Yes, mam," Dylan replied.

"That must have been rather startling," Darla said in an understanding tone, also gloating a bit, greatly satisfied with the show she and Herman put on.

Buck took a deep breath, and enjoyed a big gulp of his lemonade. The conversation already had him on edge, his heart racing.

It was exhilarating to be sharing these thoughts with Ms. K.

"To be totally honest, Ms. K...uh...that was the...third time...we were in your closet," Buck admitted.

"Oh, was it?" Darla answered, more flattered than anything else.

"We, uh...saw the ring toss," Buck said with a boyish grin.

"Wow, so you saw the ring toss," Darla repeated, then gave in to an adorable, bawdy chuckle.

They all had to crack up.

"Well, after all, you boys are sports fans," she reasoned, with a sexy grin.

***********

The conversation was choppy when the three first sat down.

Now, it flowed like the Missouri River.

All three fought to get a word in.

Darla waited patiently, then spoke clearly and eloquently.

"Have you boys considered, that you may have a CFNM fetish?" she asked so gently, and with compassion and warmth.

Dylan and Buck looked at each other, with a bit of concern.

"Don't worry," she urged, with a chuckle. "I am not diagnosing you with a disease of some sort."

They were able to laugh at themselves a bit.

"CFNM is an acronym. It stands for Clothed Female Naked Male. Or Clothed Female Nude Male - whichever floats your boat," she smiled. "It's the fetish I'm most interested in, and it has to do with the synergy generated by voyeuristic women and exhibitionist men. Or, to take it a step further, dominant women and submissive men."

Dylan and Buck loved the way she explained things.

"I mean, who doesn't wanna boss a naked guy around, am I right?" she laughed heartily, speaking for similar, like-minded women.

The two Kansas teens could appreciate her viewpoint, and were greatly aroused by it.

"Dude, I think that's what we have," Buck said to his friend. "I think we have that CFNM..."

Darla thought his reaction was adorable.

"The other question I wanted to ask, boys, is...did you strictly just like watching me with Herman? Or did you fantasize about being in Herman's place?"

That question hit hard, right in the sweet spot. It touched a nerve in both Dylan and Buck.

"Uh...," Buck stammered.

"It's okay, Buck, you can be open. We're all adults here," she urged, reminding them that she wasn't their high school teacher anymore, rather more of a confidant, a mentor.

"I imagined it was me," Buck wholeheartedly admitted.

"Yeah, me too," Dylan echoed.

Her grin grew wider.

"Because that gives me an idea of how deep this fetish goes with you two," she continued.

"Watching from the bench is fine," she went on, using another sports analogy. "But it sounds like you two wanna get in the game."

They felt like they were being picked for the coolest sports team ever assembled.

"Okay, okay...," she nodded, pondering something. "Well, tell ya what. Lemme talk to Trish, and maybe we can help guide you guys a bit. Provide you the proper outlets to exercise these desires that you're harboring. Sound like a plan?"

"Absolutely," Buck said.

"Sounds great, Ms. K," Dylan added.

With that, Darla rose from her seat, but Buck felt compelled to add something.

"Uh, I feel like we have to discuss one more thing," he said.

"Oh? What's that?" Darla answered him, sitting back down.

"The size of Herman's hog," was Buck's reply.

Darla laughed heartily. It was wonderfully sexy.

"I met Herman...through Trish," she began, in no rush, giving the topic the proper time and consideration. "She said, and I'm paraphrasing here, that she had somebody for me that was...a little bit different. He was a big, muscular guy, 245 pounds give or take, and a former Chicago cop. Real tough guy. But...a submissive."

"That is a clash," Buck agreed.

"Tell me about it," Darla answered. "And Trish follows that up by saying (laugh)...Oh, and by the way, he has a very, VERY, large, uh...dick."

"Ha!" Buck belted out.

Darla overemphasized the word, "dick," stressing, in particular, the hard "d" and "k" sounds. The word came out of her mouth with particular pop.

It was like she wanted the young men to know it was perfectly fine for them to use such candid terms. They were all adults now, after all.

"You'd think Trish would have mentioned that first. The guy's got a frickin kneeslapper," Dylan laughed, playfully exaggerating, but not by much.

"Talk about burying the lead, am I right?" Darla kidded. "She says, well, I wanted to hit you with all of the stuff about him being a submissive first, just so it doesn't get buried in the avalanche caused by his Loch Ness Monster (laugh)."

Images of Herman's ginormous wang and Darla's manipulations of it flashed back into Dylan and Buck's young minds. It was a tickling-good memory.

"Eight inches unaroused!?!" Darla belted out, with both fascination and whimsy, speaking of Herman's flaccid measurement.

"Holy frickin shit, dude," Buck laughed.

"It's a rather immense schlong," Darla gushed, with a bawdy laugh. "But Herman will tell you, there are pros and cons to being that large."

***********

Easy, casual talk went into the early evening.

But everybody at the table felt they needed to head their own way.

The two got a warm hug from Ms. K, and they headed out.

Things were accelerating. They could almost feel the wind blowing through their hair.

TO BE CONTINUED...