Author's Note: All characters, events, and places described in this narrative are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All characters involved in sexual activities in this story are over 18 years of age. Obviously, this type of behaviour from a teacher is not condoned in real life.
This Part is shorter than normal in order to improve the readability of the story and speed up my writing - I'm keen for any feedback from readers on this style.
As always, all comments and feedback are welcomed.
HF
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Emily stood at the edge of the sports field, the crisp winter air biting at her cheeks as she adjusted the Hermes silk scarf around her neck. It was early December, and the English countryside was now held in winter's firm grip. The perfect epitome of an upper-middle class English woman, she was dressed warmly with a classic Barbour Beadnell olive green waxed jacket to ward off the winter chill and damp. Beneath this was a soft cream coloured John Lewis cashmere turtleneck that she had paired that morning with a long, charcoal-grey A-line wool skirt from Hobbs that fell to just above her ankles. To keep her legs warm in the damp, wet weather, she'd selected a pair of thick, black opaque Falke tights to go with her black Russell & Bromley knee-high leather boots.
She looked around, watching as people continued to stream down from the main school buildings towards the sports fields. In the distance she saw the coffee cart doing a brisk trade. 'I could really use a coffee right about now...' Emily thought to herself. Despite the cold and the leaden grey skies that threatened rain, there was a low hum of excitement from the crowd of parents and students mingled with the distant whistle of the referee starting a match on the adjacent rugby pitch. Saturdays at the Prestwood School were always a lively affair, especially when it came to sports. Rugby, hockey, but especially football.
Although she kept herself fit, she'd never been really interested in team sports. She'd played the ones she'd had to at school, mainly netball, but she'd always preferred the more individual activities, such as running or swimming. As she glanced at the players heading towards the field, she couldn't help but let a small smile crease her lips. 'The only running they seem to care about here at Prestwood is running to and from the football fields...' she thought wryly.
Nonetheless, today she had volunteered to help out with organising the football matches -- something that was regularly requested of the teaching staff by the overworked sporting staff. She had helped out with this in the past but this time around it was different. It wasn't something to keep herself busy and away from the increasingly complicated feelings that her affair with Darius had stirred in her heart. It was actually an opportunity to be closer to him.
She glanced down at the clipboard in her hands, noting the names of the teams. She'd been here since 7.30am helping to get some semblance of order in the chaos that was Saturday morning sport at the Prestwood School. She felt a little flutter of excitement in the pit of her stomach as she noticed Darius's name on the list. Darius Okoro -- an Upper Sixth Form student at the Prestwood School and a star player on the football team. Someone with a bright future who had already been selected to attend a prestigious football development academy once he finished school. An eighteen-year-old teenager of Nigerian heritage, with dark brown skin, short, curly black hair, and an infectiously mischievous grin. A young man who, for the past nearly two months, had been Emily's secret lover.
It had all started innocently enough. Emily, an English teacher at the school, had been asked to tutor Darius to ensure he didn't fail and put his scholarship to the school in jeopardy. The after-class tutoring sessions had slowly turned into something more, something that Emily had never expected. With her husband, Jonathan, away for increasingly frequent periods of time, she had slowly slipped into an increasingly personal and intimate relationship with the young Nigerian boy.
Stolen glances, soft touches, intimate discussions, all of these had given way to something more -- a connection between the two most unlikely people: an older, married English teacher and a young, athletic Black teenager. They had finally consummated this growing attraction; firstly, in an alleyway off Guildford's high street, and then, finally, in Darius's cousin's apartment. Even now, well over a month and a half later, the memories of that morning, the way he had treated her, the ecstasy she felt when he was inside her, the feeling of fullness and warmth deep inside her as he'd flooded her womb with his African seed, all of it continued to echo in Emily's mind.
After that day, the intensity of the pleasure that he'd given her had been matched only by the feelings of guilt and shame Emily experienced when she glanced at her husband and daughter -- she was betraying them every time she was together with Darius, but the allure, the magnetic attraction she felt towards him, made her push these thoughts from her mind.
They had been good, very good actually, at keeping to the terms of their agreement -- they were to remain absolutely professional whilst together at school, all communications between them were through burner phones that they could throw away in an instant and they only met up in locations where there was little chance of being spotted by anyone they knew. Despite all of this, Emily still felt a twinge of fear and anxiety every time they met -- if anyone were to spot them together or, even worse, realise she was having an affair with one of her students, it would likely mean the end of both her career and marriage. At the very least, she would lose her coveted job at the Prestwood School while at the other end of the scale, there was a good possibility she would be labelled a sex predator and end up in prison.
These thoughts had dominated her mind for the first few weeks of the affair, but over the last week or so, Emily had started to rationalise away her fears and concerns. As long as they were discrete, nothing would happen. They took precautions -- only meeting when their timetables allowed them to, selecting out of the way locations and Emily was diligent in taking her birth control pill every morning, lest she fall pregnant to the young Nigerian teenager, something that both worried, and secretly excited her the most.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice. "Miss... can you please help me. I don't know where to go." Emily blinked and looked down at a young student who had approached her. He was dressed in football kit and looked lost.
"Of course," she replied, giving him one of her little smiles that she was famous for amongst the students at the school. She was Mrs Lancaster, the much loved and well-respected Deputy Head of English, the wife of a successful corporate lawyer and mother of a young girl who also attended the school. But she was also Em, the English woman who for the past several weeks had repeatedly come apart in ecstasy on the end of a Nigerian teenager's thick, black cock. 'If only they knew...' she thought to herself before turning her attention to the list on her clipboard.
"It's Charlie Wilson, isn't it?" she said as she wracked her brain to remember the name of the young student as she poured over the team lists. The young boy nodded. "Yes, Miss."
"Ah, here you are. You're starting at 9.00am on 3rd field," she told him. She glanced at her watch. "You'd better get over there, your game is going to start shortly."
"Yes, Miss. Thanks!" the boy replied and sprinted off towards his field. As she watched him go, she saw Jonathan and Sophie approaching in the distance. This was a rare weekend where Jonathan was home, and it was nice to spend some time together as a family. He'd mentioned last night that he needed to get some work done but he'd do that on Sunday, giving them all day together today.
