Bethany Collins. Beth to her friends. Miss Collins to her students. A very attractive woman. Time has yet to play havoc with her gentle smile and the brilliant blue glow of her eyes. Were it not for the streaks of gray, one could easily place her age at low thirties... at BEST. Miss Bethany Collins was fifty-four years old. And she hated it.
NO one wants a single, fifty-four year old school teacher for a wife. Even fewer would consider bedding someone so ancient. It didn't help that she always wanted her lovers young. So Miss Bethany Collins tended to spend her nights at home, alone, masturbating to phantom lovers. Such was the case tonight. Friday. Christmas Break just begun.
She stood in her bedroom and gazed out of the window. As predicted, snow began to drift towards the cold ground. By morning the entire world will be white. She watched for a minute, then turned towards her bed. She stripped with little fanfare, quickly donning the oversized tee-shirt she favored. She glanced around her bedroom, sighed, and strode towards the window. Reaching for the cord that would plunge her room into semi-dark, she caught sight of a faint trail of mist. She froze. Someone was outside. She waited patiently; they would have to move before she did. Indeed they did move, but not in the direction she expected. The form knew the night well, keeping hidden as it made its way to her back door! Strangely, she was not afraid... and knew it.
At the back door Bethany wondered what her visitor could possibly want from her. It never occurred to her that someone would want to hurt her. She knew no secrets save her own. She never got involved in the business or politics. She opened the door... and saw Kyle Warren.
He did not give her time to think. As soon as the door began to open, Kyle made his move. Bold. Ballsy. But not brash or abusive. He wanted to fuck Miss Collins and there wasn't anything she could really do to stop him. He had a golden rep. Besides... she always had this look in her eyes. Like she WANTED to fuck some of her students. it was pure speculation... and from a constantly horny black nerd at that. Besides... he could always call it his one moment of niggadom: he'd raped a white woman.
She opened her mouth to speak, but found it impossible to do with his lips on hers. Stunned, Bethany stood motionless as the young black man proceeded to grope about her body. His hands shot beneath the tee-shirt and quickly found her bare... moist... mound. His fingers began sliding along her soaked slit, one even going so far as to tickle her clit while two others slid into her cunt. She blinked as she finally took a breath. She gasped as her arousal swirled higher. Her hands, free to finally act, quickly made for his crotch and the bulge hidden from view.
YES! Kyle gave himself credit for being right for a change. Bethany Collins WAS a horny old woman who wouldn't mind fucking a student! He yanked her tee-shirt off, plastering his mouth against one stiff nipple as he flung the garment to the winds. Her hands tore at his clothing. His brothers clothing to be precise, but that was OK. Kyle was not in the mood to be pleasant or nice. Neither, it appeared, was Bethany Collins.
A real, living phallus in her hands. Finally. A young, virile male dick in her hands. Bethany wanted to do everything at once, but settled on a quick, violent fuck to start the evening. From the glint in his eye, she knew he would be gone as soon as he came. Or so he thought.
