With the lewdness of her new behaviors, her partial undressing for her young black beau in the car and the surrender of her bare breasts to his hands, Marie became like a demanding tigress. Her hands on Blaine became like his usually were on her, caressing his shoulders, his back, his sides, his arms. Pushing herself back from his chest and stomach she admired the stark contrast between her skin and his.
One afternoon she hooked a calf behind his knee, pulling their lower bodies closer, grinding against him. Finally she pulled back, holding his head in her hands, feeling the tight curls of his closely cropped hair and gave him a last, and, had it not been for all the preceding kisses, innocent peck on the lips.
"We've got to go," she said wistfully. Her sexual after-burners had been lit and she was anxious to get home and pleasure herself while his aroma still lingered on her olfactory.
"I can't," Blaine said, in an almost apologetic whisper.
"Why not?" Marie demanded, stepping back, exposing the reason for the young black man's incapacity.
Marie had never seen a bulge as obscene as the one occupying the front of Blaine's jeans. It seemed to go down his pants leg forever. In their previous sessions, Blaine had struggled mightily and, for the most part successfully to constrain his cock during his make out sessions with the pretty, much older teacher.
This time, her passion overwhelmed his caution. This time when he fought his erection it won. And now both were looking at the result of that battle. Marie shuddered and she felt something unexpected and pleasant roll through her loins. Her need to rush home suddenly increased a hundred fold. But Blaine was having problems of his own.
"Ow!" he exclaimed. "Oh shit, it's starting to hurt, Marie!" he moaned, grabbing his crotch, attempting to shift his package to a more comfortable position, trying to will his phallus to go away. It wasn't working.
"Let's go out to the car," Marie soothed even as Blaine's struggles with his penis enflamed her. "Nobody will see and it'll probably go down during the ride."
"It won't go down while you're next to me," Blaine wailed. "and besides, even if it did, all the precum in it will just drain out and my mom would see it when she did the laundry. She's got radar for that kind of stuff. I can't even jerk off at home."
Like you couldn't wash your own fucking pants for once?
Marie muttered to herself bitchily.
"Please Marie. I've got to take it out before I damage something."
"Oh for god's sake," said an irritated Marie. "Do it over there, I suppose," she said pointing to a darkened corner.
But there was much more than annoyance to Marie's feelings at that moment. There was lust: pure undiluted lust, as pure as she'd ever known. It had begun with Blaine's half naked body, his kisses, his smell as arousing as anything she'd ever experienced, as effective an aphrodisiac as the legendary Spanish Fly.
Marie had already wanted to race home to finger herself before the boy's erection appeared and, like hard-ons often do,
became
the conversation. Now she was beyond reason as she watched the incredible stud that was her summer helper walk to the corner to fix his hard on problem.
