All characters are 18 or older.
*****
Teacher's Affair
"I'll be back home in a few hours," I called out to my husband.
"Where are you headed now," he complained.
"The ladies at church are getting together for a dinner and silent auction," I reminded him.
He just grunted his general indifference as I walked out the front door.
I exhaled deeply as I sat behind the wheel of my car. I felt guilty lying to my husband about my exploits. I still went to church weekly, but he stopped going years ago, and as far as he knew, I had recently become much more involved in church activities.
The dress I wore was blue and knee length with thick shoulder straps. It looked perfectly appropriate for church, so it wouldn't raise any alarms with my husband, although what I wore underneath was decidedly unholy. My stockings were thigh high, not pantyhose, and they were clipped to a garter belt to hold them up.
My should length brown hair was tied back in a simple ponytail, and I pushed my glasses back up to the bridge of my nose. I stopped at a parking lot to fix my make up in the mirror. I had only applied a light touch at home, just enough to erase the lines creeping into my face and not raise any questions why I was dolling myself up for a church function.
But now I applied extra eyeliner, blush, and lipstick before I headed back out on the road. My pulse was racing as I drove to a nearby townhouse community. I parked in one of the visitor spaces and checked myself in the mirror one last time and then stared at the front door of my destination three houses down.
I stepped out of the car and began walking.
"Hi Mrs. Suffolk. What are you doing in this neighborhood? Do you live here?" a young cheerful voice called out.
I froze as I immediately recognized the voice. I slowly turned around and saw one of my students, Francine, looking at me with doe eyes.
I took a second and composed myself, my mind searching for any excuse, before responding.
"Mitchell lives here, right?" I nervously asked, my hand pointing to the townhouse two doors down.
"Yeah, he does. Do you know his parents?" she inquired.
"Yes," I lied. "He's the star quarterback, so he's got to keep up his grades to maintain his athletic eligibility, and they asked me to do some extra tutoring for him."
"Oh yes, our team is on track for the playoffs, and we'd be screwed if he couldn't play," she realized.
"Exactly," I said as I breathed a huge sigh of relief as Francine seemingly bought into my ruse.
"Well, I'll see you in class tomorrow, Mrs. Suffolk," Francine said as she turned around and began walking away.
I felt both exhausted and exhilarated by the close call. Francine was an 18 year old senior in my second period English Literature high school class, just like Mitchell, and seeing her in that moment almost made me turn around and head back home. I wondered if Francine somehow knew that Mitchell's parents weren't home and that I'd be alone in the house with him? Or what if she innocently mentioned to them later on that I stopped by to visit? I couldn't risk my career and life over an affair, but I was already so close to my destination that I couldn't stop now.
I hurried up the front steps to Mitchell's townhouse and rang the doorbell. I snuck a glance behind me, thankful to see that Francine had turned the corner and was out of sight.
A few seconds later, Mitchell opened the door, standing there with a wide grin on his face.
He motioned for me to hurry in, and I was relieved to step out of public view as he closed the door behind me.
I felt a chill as I looked around. I had stepped into a living room, and I noticed the dining room and kitchen farther back on the first floor. To my right was a coat closet and stairs leading up to the bedrooms. A tv played softly in the living room, but otherwise there was an almost eerie silence.
"There's no one else here, right?" I asked cautiously.
"No, my parents are at some charity dinner for their church. They said they wouldn't be back for at least 3 hours." The irony of them being at a church charity dinner, which was my excuse to my husband for being out of the house, wasn't lost on me.
I saw a family picture hanging on the wall, and I remembered meeting them at parent-teacher night at the start of the school year few months ago, although they were just one set in an endless sea of parents who flooded through my classroom that evening. They looked to be about the same age as me, or maybe a few years older than my 41 years.
Then I felt Mitchell's hand on my bare arm, and shivers went up and down my spine.
I felt his breath on the back of my neck as he whispered, "You seem nervous. This is what you wanted, isn't it?"
His hand pushed lightly on my arm, and I turned around to face him. His 6'2" body towered over me and my 5'4" frame, and I had to tilt my head up to look him in the eyes. I felt so diminutive standing next to him. His short blonde hair and blue eyes were mesmerizing, and I fell under his spell, the same spell he seemingly cast over the whole school.
He was the big man on campus, and everyone knew it, an all-city quarterback with several D1 scholarship offers. I saw the girls sneaking glances at him in class, and the boys all either wanted to be his friend or were jealous of him.
"I saw Francine talking to you outside," Mitchell remarked as his large hand cupped my cheek. "She didn't give you any trouble, did she?"
"No, I just told her I was here to tutor you," I meekly replied.
He chuckled, "Tutoring, is that what you call it?"
That seemed to break the ice, and I laughed along with him as I looked down at his strong chest and arms. Then he put a finger on my chin and tilted my head back up as he leaned down and gave me a kiss. My lips parted, and our tongues touched lightly as his hands reached around and felt up my ass.
My eyes were closed as we kissed sensually. My hands went for his arms, and his biceps were somehow even firmer than I expected.
I'd been nervous up to this point. I had never cheated in my marriage before, and I knew all the dangers in this affair. The news was littered with tales of teachers sleeping with their students, often ending up in jail as their lives and careers were upended.
Yet that danger somehow only added to my excitement, and I found myself wanting nothing else in that moment. I fell down on my knees before him, and I looked up briefly over his solid 180 pound body. I felt so diminutive by comparison, and my 125 pound body felt so soft and doughy by comparison.
I still wasn't sure what he saw in me. He clearly could have his pick of the girls in school, but he wanted me. Was he really attracted to me as a woman? Maybe he had a thing for older women. Maybe it was just the thrill of bedding a teacher. I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer. I wasn't sure I even cared. All that mattered was that moment.
The bulge in his pants stared me in the face. Mitchell reached down and pulled my glasses off and placed them on a small table nearby while my hands undid his belt and unsnapped his jeans. My vision was a little blurry without my glasses, but there was no mistaking the obvious bulge in his briefs as I pulled down his pants. My hands were shaking as I placed my fingers under the band of his underwear, and his bulge pulsed out as if it was a caged animal trying to break free.
Mitchell's hands gently stroked my hair as I pulled down his briefs and revealed his manhood in all its hardened glory. His shaft was thick and throbbed with seven inches of hard juicy meat that pointed up, dancing hypnotically before my eyes, and he wielded it like a weapon.
Then he took his cock and playfully slapped it against my cheeks as he worked his jeans and underwear to the floor and stepped out of them, clearly relishing having his teacher on her knees before him and completely at his mercy.
"Please," I said softly, and then I opened my mouth and patiently waited for him to hold his cock still so I could take him in. When he finally stopped, I leaned forward, but he thrust himself into me at the same time, and I gagged as his cock stretched to the back of my throat.
I knew he was cocky, but I assumed that came with the territory of being a star athlete. Nevertheless, I quickly recovered, and my tongue worked over his shaft as his hard cock filled my mouth and stretched my lips out wide. He was warm, and I couldn't help thinking how much larger he was than my husband as I struggled to contain him in my mouth.
As I began to move back and forth, my lips and tongue ran over every inch of him. The skin on his shaft was stretched taut, and I could feel the veins and muscles underneath, and his circumcised head was like a mushroom on the end that let me know I'd reached the end of his staff.
I looked up at my young lover as I sucked on his cock, looking for affirmation, and he smiled down, almost smugly, yet I gratefully accepted his approval, however flawed. It only encouraged me to work that much harder, and I began bobbing on his cock. I was kneeling down, but my head was bouncing up and down faster and faster, and my hands grabbed his strong thighs to steady myself.
All I could picture was the endless line of beautiful young teens always flirting with him at school, but it wasn't them he wanted, it was me, and I didn't want to give him any excuse to turn his romantic interests back to the girls his age.
I'd always felt like an ugly duckling in high school, and having the top jock in school show interest in me had initially unnerved me. Even now, I felt more like a plain Jane, but Mitchell proved both persistent charming, and he left me feeling desirable and sexy after years spent in what had devolved into a loveless marriage.
I knew I was an emotionally vulnerable woman, but being the love interest for the school's top jock proved an irresistible temptation, and it left me feeling better about myself than I'd ever felt before, as if his attraction to me somehow validated my self-worth.
I was determined to prove that I was the only lover he needed, and I continued furiously sucking on his cock as if I was priming a pump. I was finally rewarded as the slightly sweet taste of his watery precum began to leak out onto my tongue.
By this point, his cock had grown even harder and longer, and I finally released him from my mouth. I sat back as I was left panting and trying to catch my breath. I wiped my lips as my saliva and his precum dribbled off my chin, and I admired my handiwork as his cock throbbed before my eyes, his shaft shiny and coated in my saliva.
"Stand up," he said quietly but firmly. He put his hands under my arms and helped me to my feet as I smiled, happy to see his cock had responded so enthusiastically to me.
Then he reached behind and undid the small zipper at the back of my dress and proceeded to lift it directly up and off me.
"Jesus fucking Christ," he proclaimed as he tossed the dress aside and feasted his eyes upon my nearly naked body.
