Author's Disclaimers: First, another different sort of story for me. Second, all sexually active people are over 18 years of age. Third, every character in my little tale is fictional, and reside in the recesses of my mind. Lastly, this story is not wall to wall sex.
I am Sandra Rosen, a 51 year old principal of a prestigious private school, located outside the city of Seattle. I spent the first 21 years as an English teacher and was hired as principal just over 7 years ago. For the first 10 plus years of my teaching career I was married to my first love, Brian O'Conner. We met in college, with him 2 years ahead of me. While not exactly love at first sight, we dated exclusively my last year and a half, and got married, while I was completing my 5th year, for my teaching credentials.
Let me try to describe myself. In flat heels, I barely reach 5 feet tall. With constant exercise and trying to eat properly, I try to keep my weight under 135 or so. With twin daughters, Carol and Cheryl, now 26 years old, I won't try to fool any of you about what age, child birth and gravity have done to my tits. When Brian and I got married, I was a 36 C. Now, I'm lucky to fit into a 38 DD. At least my exercising keeps the rest of my body parts in decent shape.
While I was busy trying to mold the minds of the next generation, I soon realized Brian was trying to mold other women into their mattresses. It must have been during our 8th or 9th year of marriage, when this lady of very average features knocks on my office door, and when I showed her inside and asked how I could help her, she stated she was busy fucking my husband.
"And that's my problem, how?" I responded, knowing Brian was dipping his wick places other than at home. I continued, "I'm just waiting for the right time to kick his sorry ass to the curb, then you can have him!"
With that, she stomped out of my office. I really didn't know what she expected me to do.
Let me interject, here, that while having the morals of an alley cat, Brian was a first rate financial analyst, with the largest local bank in our area. A top notch provider, and a good father to our girls. It was just too bad I wasn't aware of his wandering eye before we got married. I was plotting my freedom from him for several years, and when we parted, I was left with my daughters, my job, and my financial freedom, thanks to a top tier divorce lawyer.
It was during our final year of marriage, I had heard whispers of yet another fling he was having. This, I later found out, left him with a pregnant girl friend. This only added to my case in divorce court.
My girls and I flourished on our own. I finished my PhD work, my girls excelled in all subjects in school, and they tolerated their 2 or 3 weeks each summer with their father. He really tried his best to dote on them, but he now had a son with his new, younger wife.
During the first few years as a newly single, still young woman, any sexual happenings weren't even in my thoughts, let alone actions. I guess you could say I fell into a celibate lifestyle. As my girls grew and entered middle school, I started getting dating offers, which at first I ignored. My girls were my top priority, and with them entering puberty, I convinced myself I had to set a great example in the morality game.
Along with me staying on the moral high road, some of the offers I was receiving bordered on the ridiculous. One gentleman, who had to be 25 years older than me, asked me to come on a cruise with him! This was going to be a first date? I don't think so. He was actually hurt when I declined.
With others asking for just a dinner date. I decided to try, just to break my boredom.
First date number one. Gene, or I think that was his name, took me to a family pancake house. Wow, what a guy! When we finished, he actually had the balls to ask, "your place, or mine?" My reply was right to the point, "I'm going to my place, by myself, you can go wherever you want."
First date number two. The father of one of my students asked me to dinner, so I checked the school files, and sure enough, he was listed as having a wife! Oh, just for the record, his name was Brian, too. When I asked if his wife was joining us, he actually said, "If you want her to, that's O K with me."
After these two, I stopped even considering any number three. It was around this time I discovered the joys of self pleasuring. I built up the nerve looking online and found what looked like an average sized vibrator. Batteries not included.
With the twins going to sleepovers some weekends, I discovered how much I truly missed a cock that didn't cheat on me. I just had to make sure the linens were washed before the Snoop Sisters returned on Sunday afternoon.
The years were flying by, with both girls off to college, any my love life stuck in a horrible rut.
I actually accepted a first date number three. This was way out of my comfort zone. This date was with Alice, one of my student's mother. We had known each other for just a little while, and when she picked me up, I let her know that I had never dated a woman, and truthfully didn't know why I was doing so, at this time. She quietly informed me that dinner would be the only thing, if that was to my liking. It proved to be a very enjoyable dinner and we talked for nearly two hours, afterword. As she got up to leave, she took my face in both her hands and gave me the softest, most sensuous kiss I had received in years. My vibrator gave me multiple orgasms that night, but we never dated, again. We remained friends, but nothing more.
One afternoon, with my girls both graduated, and working in the world of finance, and each living with a girlfriend, I was looking at mid year applications to my school. Yes, both of my daughters came out in college. and I wasn't bothered in the least.
One application caught my eye. A young man entering the final semester of high school. Nearly 18, perfect 4.0 grades, with many advanced placement classes, and a very familiar name. Byron O'Conner. Yes, the son of my ex husband. As I am looking at his paperwork, I noticed a glaring omission. On the line asking for siblings, he wrote, none.
I made an appointment for his interview for the next day. He told me he would be there, by himself.
Right on time, this Byron O'Conner walks into my office, skin the color of light milk chocolate, standing around 6'2" or so, on the slender side, and very soft spoken.
"Good morning, Mr. O'Conner,"
"Good morning, Dr. Rosen,"
"Let me say, first off, we pride ourselves at this school on honesty, as well as academics," I told him. Before he could answer, I took a picture of my daughters from my desk drawer, put it on top of my desk, and watched as his face blanched.
"Byron, I want you to meet Carol and Cheryl O'Conner, my daughters, and I believe your sisters!"
"Half sisters, to be accurate, Dr. Rosen," with his head down. "Do you want me to leave?"
"No, young man, but I would like an explanation,"
"They never got along with my mother, if you want the truth. I think mom thought they were stuck up."
The more we talked, the more relaxed he became. In truth, my girls made me well aware of the constant tension between them and "step mommy" It didn't help matters that their father allowed this to fester.
"Are you aware they are moving to The Bahamas, next month?" And I will be living with friends of my mothers.
I told him I had heard that it was a possibility.
I quickly approved his admittance, and since he was 18, he could live with any adult.
As the semester got into full swing, we actually had several family dinners, showing Byron his sisters were pretty cool kids, as were their girl friends.
As graduation neared, I asked him if his parents would be there, and he very quietly answered in the negative.
"Do you want me to contact them?"
"Absolutely not!" he said. "Its their loss."
