Courting the Firebreather

Catherine Snow was a stickler for literature.

Back in the day, when Cathy was a little girl, she was a voracious reader. English was her favorite class, her favorite A to earn, with Math in close second. She decided while she was a teenager that she wanted to spread the gift of the English language to the world. What better way to do that than teaching? She got her degree, and went into Belleview high teaching Freshmen English.

Unfortunately, her love of English gave her a strict no tolerance policy, which she implanted on those who had no grasp of it. Even though she persisted in making sure anyone who made a grammatical error was well aware(though she didn't know it, her ferociousness with which she corrected papers with her trademark red ink pen had made the students take to call her 'The Fire-Breather'), she was also quite bewitching to the male students and teachers, and sometimes, the women too.

Now at the age of 60, Cathy had become a shadow, a mirror that if gazed at close enough, revealed the past. Her face had a few wrinkles beginning to form on her cheeks that were small but noticeable, her belly had just begin to receive the start of a paunch, there was a dash of fat that was beginning to form a pocket on her arms, and her breasts had begun to sag woefully. Still, she looked better than most 60 year-old women, and some of the younger ones too. Unlike that Eco-Bitch Elin Mathis on the 1st floor, Cathy took strides to keep herself at least in average shape. She was watching what she ate, exercising when she could, and keeping her breasts and ass looking lovely with push up-bras and thongs to hide her panty line, respectfully. She may be getting old, but she would be damned if she would start wearing those atrocious grandma bloomers.

Even with all this help however, this didn't stop her husband, a former math teacher, from cheating on her with a Law student from Belleview Tech. As if to compound the message, most of the teachers had stopped giving her looks out of the corner of her eyes, or even trying to pinch her ass, when they thought she wasn't looking.

All this made it that much surprising when a man gave her that very same look when she arrived for school that early September day.

That man, a tall 23-year old who dressed casually in black loafers, grey slacks, and a black button-up, was staring out the window of the hallway, into the patio where students ate their lunch if it was warm enough. But as she rolled her suitcase down the hallway, she caught him glance up, smile and glance back down. Cathy held back a smile herself. As vain as it sounded she missed those sidelong glances. The thought distracted her so much that she was fumbling with the classroom door. "Let me help you with that," the man volunteered. She relinquished the key and he opened the door with ease. "Thank you, Mister..."

"Woods. Tom Woods." He took her hand and kissed, eliciting a giggle from the fire-breather. "And you are?"

"Cathy Snow. I teach English."

"I see. I teach Italian myself. If you need anything, lovely Cathy, please let me know." He gave her a gentleman's bow and walked away. She was instantly glad he gave her that one glance that day.

That wouldn't be the first time. She soon discovered that he had a grand effect on her. A week later he caught her in the break room while she was pouring coffee. After she sat the pitcher down, He came behind her and wrapped his arms around her neck. She was quite calm about it, and grabbed his arms with one of her hands. "It's nice to see you too." His one arms slivered down her back, sending chills up her spine. "Oh, really?" He purred into her ear. His hand fell onto her ass and gave it a firm squeeze that took her breath away." I'm actually very glad to see you. He pulled himself closer, close enough so that she could feel his erection through her beige dress. She was lost, in a moment that seemed perfect, until the bell rang. "But I have to go now. Until next time Catherine."

Afterward his "Hello," always came with a seductive smile she was sure the children would notice eventually. Their friendship was starting to blossom into something much rawer, more primal: Desire.

Just before Thanksgiving break, Cathy got in her car, ready to partake in her vacation. Because Lady Luck turns her nose up at everyone at some point, her engine moaned but refused to turn over. "Goddamnit!" She screamed and slammed her fist against the wheel. "Having fun?" She nearly screamed when Tom popped into her window. "You scared me. But yeah, this piece of junk is pretty much dead."

"Don't worry about it. I'll drive you back."

Tom had an old Nissan, but it still had that new car smell. Even better, it had his scent. And THAT was what made her cross her legs. She didn't even pay attention to the scenery as they drove by (It was too dark anyway), nor did she try to make conversation. She just closed her eyes and inhaled his delicious smell. Her cunt was wild, dripping at the thought of the scent's source being inside her. She was almost sad when he pulled into her driveway. Cathy's street was dark, no streetlights at all. They were alone, in the dark. And she could not resist her urges anymore.

He cautiously leaned in for a kiss, but she gave him so much more. She pressed her lips deeply against his, her tongue painting pictures inside his mouth. Tom was taken aback for less than a moment, but returned ferociously and their tongues danced in the darkened interior. This was not enough to sate her urges, however. Her hand slid down his chest, undid his pants, and pulled out his impressive 8-inch cock. Gripping the base she moved steadily up and down, creating a rhythm. Tom lost his breath, caught off guard. She used his slight lapse to jack him off faster. He was now panting heavily, breaking their kiss and tossing his head back. His own hand felt under her shirt and bra and begin pulling on her left nipple.

Cathy could feel her juices soaking through her panties and Chris was no less aroused, his balls feeling that familiar tingle. She grabbed his head and forced it back to her, pressing it tightly to her head with her other hand. Tom's cock was now throbbing, and precum was leaking with the tip. Cathy gave it a twist and pull and it exploded, shooting sticky ropes of cum onto the ceiling, then the steering wheel. She kept jerking it through its convulsions, with a few ropes staining his lap and her wrist.

Once he finally was empty, she simply kissed him on the cheek, said thank you, and got out.

That night she fingered herself to orgasm three times.

Though none of these moments compare to the day he finally took her. Christmas break had come on a Friday, so she Cathy dressed comfortably in her college's sweater and a pair of grey sweatpants. Maybe it was the season, but she was quite lighter in her scathing assessments than usually. By the end of the day she was tired; however, she had given a test that day, so at the very least she wouldn't be leaving until seven. She was glad when Chris came in to offer her some coffee.

At around six, the sun had set, and she had surmised the janitors were busy cleaning the cafeteria. She couldn't get last month off her head, so she said: "What do you want, Tom." When his face showed confusion, she asked, "Are you in love with me?" He sat down his coffee and walked around her desk. Pulling her closely, he kissed her hand. "Maybe," He said assuredly. "But I do know I want you. Your heart, yes-" he spun her around-"- and a few other thing if you'll let me." He pulled himself close like he had before, Cathy feeling his erection like she had so many moons ago. Except this time one of his hands snaked up her shirt, and the other pulled away the waistband on her sweats. "May I?" He asked courteously. Cathy could only nod. First his left hand slid under her bra, giving her breast a squeeze before tugging her nipple. Once her breathing became labored and her nipple hard, his other hand slid into her panties, rubbing her bald pussy up and down, feeling the spunk drip down his hand. "Does this feel good? Should I stop?" He whispered in her ear. Cathy couldn't say a word, only shake her head. Sensing her weakness, Tom lowered his mouth, first licking her earlobe, then kissing down to her neck. Feeling his lips on her neck and his hand at the lips of her womanhood, Cathy felt a cocktail of lust and wanting she had not felt for a while. "I want to suck you," She muttered, half stuck in her dream state. He spread her pussy and inserted the tip of his finger. "Say again?" This time Catherine said very clearly, though hidden under a moan:

"I want to suck your dick!"

Smiling tom pushed her down to her knees and began unbuckling his belt. Once he pulled out his impressive 7-inches, Cathy wasted no time taking it all into her mouth. Now it was Tom's turn to feel the passion/pain cocktail as she deep throated him, then pulled away and sucked both balls. With her own hand pumping furiously between her legs now, she took his cock again and began sucking in as much as she could. She felt him leaning with her, and established a rhythm, his moaning cries only made her want to take more. Once she felt his balls beginning to tingle she grabbed one to squeeze while she buried herself up to the hilt. He shot hot, sticky ropes down her throat, while she continued to suck as much of it down as she could.

Once he was spent, she knew from how fast his cock hardened again, that he wasn't done. Jerking her up again, He turned her around again, but this time pulled her sweats down just past Cathy's arse. Putting one hand back into her now soaking panties, he grabbed an arse cheek with the other, squeezing before hauling back and planting a firm slap. Cathy cried out, but nonetheless shouted, "Again!" He hauled back and slapped again. "Do you want it from behind?" He asked her as casually as if he was asking where the bathroom was. Bending her over her teachers' desk, Tom pulled down her cotton panties to her knees, just like her sweats. Grabbing an arse cheek with each hand, he calmly asked, "Are you ready?" Cathy would gladly have sucked him off again if it meant he would take her. "Please," She moaned. Her pussy was practically leaking at this point. "I don't believe you."

"Please! Fuck me-"

That was all the motivation he needed, for as soon as she got the words out he pushed deep inside her cunt, making her choke back a scream. "Deeper, Deeper!" She had pulled up her sweater and bra and, while using the other hand to support herself began pulling on her nipples. Tom was fast and hard inside her, swiftly pushing into the hilt every time he came back, Cathy's tits bouncing back and forth. The desk itself began to rock with Cathy, mimicking her motions as she was reamed from behind. "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck," She cried each time she felt the base of his cock knock her forward. Tom focused on nothing but Cathy and her sweet ass, slapping it a couple more times as he continued to screw her.

As he felt her pussy tightening around his cock, trying to keep it locked inside, he felt his balls tingle again, in an instant he pulled out and pulled her on her knees. Not bothering to remove her glasses, Cathy closed her eyes and tiled her head back as he vigorously fisted himself. With one hand fingering her clit and the other squeezing her breast, she felt the first rope start at her forehead and go down her cheek and other down her nose, catching it in her mouth. The next ropes crossed up and down her face, painting her like tribal markings. By the time he was done, he had covered her face and both her breasts in spunk.

"Now then," he said, buttoning his pants. "Coffee?"