The following is a work of fiction, and all participants are over the age of 18. This is a continuation of my previous story, "French Exchange", so you may want to get caught up on the adventures of Miss V and her former student before you tackle this one, but l leave that to you. I thank all of you who offered feedback on that (my first) story, and look forward to hearing from you again. Oh, and please take the time to rate the story, as well.
Thanks for reading. Enjoy.
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Niola and I shared the house with my roommates for about six months without a hitch. As I said before, she took on the role of unofficial 'house mother' to my five roommates, and seemed to enjoy it for the most part.
I know the guys liked having her around, if for no other reason than she was drop dead gorgeous, and would occasionally display her outrageously curvy body to them in a variety of revealing outfits that ranged from skin tight shorts and t-shirts, to tank tops, to legitimate lingerie. More than once, someone would have to excuse himself, and disappear for a few minutes to a private location to deal with the erection her presence and sexual energy had caused. Niola loved the attention. I hadn't realized what a little flirt she was.
I continued to be the sole beneficiary of her bedtime hours, however. We made love as often as three or four times a day, when neither of us were at our respective schools. She would often tell me how wet she would get, looking at the seat I once occupied in her class.
Niola would ask me about my female classmates at college, grilling me on who the hottest babes were. She knew I wasn't shopping around, but she liked to hear about the other girls, especially the ones with big breasts. She knew of my weakness for that particular area of the female body. She needn't have worried. None of them could hold a candle to her.
Then she would ravish me. I couldn't get enough of her, and we had so much hot, noisy sex in our room that one of the guys started wearing earplugs to bed, so he couldn't hear us! I thought it was hilarious. Niola took it as a challenge, and just got louder.
I loved everything about her. The physical attraction was obvious. What man wouldn't want her petite, firm, yet extremely buxom body, to play with? Her green eyes looking back while we kissed..... or the firm contours of her shapely ass? But of course, she was every bit as good a partner as she was a lover.
I had proposed, not long after she moved in. I had no doubt that Niola was the only woman I wanted, but she was hesitant. Not because she had doubts about us, but because of our age difference, relatively speaking. I was now almost 20, to her 27. I looked older than my years, while she looked younger, but she was still actively teaching at the high school I had just graduated from. Even though we were no longer a secret, advertising our relationship by getting married so soon seemed like a bad idea for her career. She was right, of course, so we settled for a long engagement. A few years from now, she would become my wife.
The trouble at the house started about six months in. One of my roommates, Mike, had just been dumped by his girlfriend, and wasn't taking it well. He had been drinking too much, and said a few inappropriate things about Niola that set things on edge between us. For her part, Niola just felt sorry for him.
Mike came home drunk, and bumped into Niola in the kitchen. He was particularly pathetic that night, so she tried to console him. I was watching TV in the attached family room, but before I could convey what a bad idea it was, she was giving him a hug.
Mike and I were both on the football team in high school, but I played Receiver, Defensive Back, and a little Quarterback, while he was a Defensive Lineman. He was a few inches shorter than me, but had me by 40 pounds.
As soon after his arms engulfed her, Niola realized her mistake. Mike began to maul her breasts roughly, and tried to kiss her. She tried to escape, but he was easily twice her size. She tried to remain calm, so as not to escalate the situation.
"Aidez-moi, mon amour," she said evenly.
Help me, my love.
My French was now quite good, and I was on me feet, coming to her aid immediately.
"Mike! What are you doing, man? Let her go!" I warned as I approached.
Niola struggled, and I could feel her panic rising.
"Lâchez-moi, cochon!" she screamed at him.
I put my hand on his shoulder. "Mike! Stop!" The alcohol wasn't allowing logic to get through. I pulled at his arm. He pushed me away.
While he was busy pushing me away, Niola took advantage of the break in the bear hug to drop out from under his grasp. She pulled free and turned her back, trying to leave but finding herself cornered. I stepped between them. I hoped my intervention would give him pause. It didn't.
Mike pursued, using a football swim move to get past me, throwing me aside. He caught Niola again, grabbing her neck from behind with both hands. The situation was degrading rapidly.
I loved Niola, so the choice between her and Mike was no contest. Still, I didn't want to hurt him, given that alcohol was playing a big part in this behaviour. I was looking for something heavy to hit him with, when I got a better idea.
"Tournez Niola! Spin out!" I barked. She did just what I taught her, as a basic self defense technique.
She swung her left arm up, and spun to the left. This detached his hands from her neck and pushed them both away to his right. She had two options for the strike : high to the throat with her right hand, or low to the groin with her knee. She went low.
If she had wanted to, she could have really hurt Mike badly. But even as angry as she was over getting groped, she was restrained in her response. She still hit him pretty hard, though, and he dropped like a rock, groaning in pain. He laid on the kitchen floor in the fetal position.
Niola sought refuge in my arms. "Nicely done," I whispered to her as she buried her face in my chest, sobbing. I stroked her hair and comforted her. Together we looked down at Mike, who was still moaning.
"I think we need our own place, baby," I added, kissing away her tears. She nodded, and looked back to Mike, who was now just passed out on the floor.
"He's gonna feel that tomorrow!" she giggled. "Thanks for teaching me."
"After everything you have taught me?" I smiled, "I think I still owe you a few hundred."
We walked arm in arm upstairs to the bedroom, and locked the door. I held her close while she slept, hoping she wasn't having bad dreams.
We found a place, the next day. In the two weeks before we could move, we pretty much lived in my room, and I played bodyguard when we had no choice but to go into the public areas, Mike was suitably and predictably contrite, apologizing profusely, but we weren't about to risk a repeat.
So now we were alone, with an entire house to ourselves. It was just a little rancher, but it was our home. Niola took full advantage, and the house became a 'clothing optional' zone. Watching her wander around naked, with a wiggle in her butt and a jiggle to her boobs, had me constantly hard. We christened every room in the house, but Niola's new favorite place to fuck was the kitchen. Putting her hot ass at countertop height positioned her perfectly for a long, slow, stand-up screw, or a good tongue lashing of her pussy. We did both often.
