NOTE: DUE TO NUMEROUS REQUESTS AND POSITIVE FEEDBACK (THANKS) THE SAGA CONTINUES. YOU SHOULD READ "THE MUSIC TEACHER" FIRST AS THIS IS A SEQUEL. PLEASE BEAR WITH POSSIBLE GRAMMAR MISTAKES, IT IS ONLY MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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The early rays of the Sunday morning sun brightened the script of my dreams to a blank page. I lazily opened my eyes and recalled the previous night's events. As the warm erotic thoughts embraced me, I stretched out my arm to her side of the bed. A feeling of panic and longing mixed together in my mind as I felt the empty space. I saw the little piece of paper on the nightstand. Her handwriting was neat and fluent.
Hi Pete, sorry I didn't want to wake you. Hope you had slept as well as I did. I have to leave for Jo'burg to collect some parcels and will only be back tomorrow morning. Unfortunately some of the 'models' are going with, so I couldn't ask you to join me -- and like I said, we'll only be back Monday morning.
Ann
PS There's breakfast in the microwave.
I read the note again. It was signed "Ann", not "Mrs. van Zyl". I realized just how complicated the situation was. Where do we go from here? What do I call her? Ann? Mrs. van Zyl? How will she react back at school? I tried to answer the questions and read the note yet again. I was curious about the 'models' going with her. I have never thought about it and assumed the other models would come from the city. Her note clearly was to the contrary. At least some of them were local. Would I know them? If they were from our town it was a definite given. Everyone knew everybody here.
We never made it to dinner the previous night and I stood up to enjoy the 'PS' part of her note.
For one and a half days I felt like a caged lion. I walked up and down in my room, my emotions creating havoc while my mind tried to contemplate the huge burden of unknown feelings. Loneliness and a yearning for her presence gnawed at my intestines. Time almost stood still until that Monday afternoon.
School just came out and I rushed to the music class. I had a hard time to keep myself from running. As I approached her door, I heard some raised voices in an obvious heated discussion. I stood back and listened.
"For God's sake Ann, I can't go along with this! Are you out of your mind? I would never have agreed to this if I knew there would be males present!" The voice belonged to Mrs. Maureen Skinner, my math's teacher. She sounded more than upset.
"Oh Maureen, don't be such a prude! And it's not 'males', it's only Pete," Mrs. van Zyl was apparently defending my presence at the fashion show.
"Worse! He's only a boy, I teach him math's for heaven's sake. And what about Lisa? She's in his class!" If possible, the voice sounded even more upset.
This was most interesting. Mrs. Skinner's daughter was in my class. Like me, she was 18 years of age. Would she be one of the models? Hardly believing. Lisa Skinner was a very shy, drawn back girl, nobody ever offered her as much as a second glance. Come to think about it, she wasn't ugly at all. It's just; she never mingled with the rest of the 'gang' so nobody ever noticed her. Her long blonde hair was always tied to a ponytail at the back of her head. Her light blue eyes seemed distant and reserved behind her steel rimmed glasses. No not bad at all, I thought. Mrs. Skinner on the other hand was short and a bit overweight, though she normally hid the fact under layers and layers of old fashioned clothes. Her big bosom was more than likely in the D-range. She had curly red hair and dirty-green eyes. The thick plastic rimmed glasses on her pointy nose made her a definite winner in a 'Mrs. Rottenheimer' contest. This was indeed interesting.
"It's only underwear Maureen, it's not like he will see us nude or anything. It's the same as wearing a bikini at the swimming pool. Besides if you have a plausible alternative I'd be more than willing to listen." Mrs. van Zyl tried to soften a wooden heart. I was drawn back to the heated conversation.
"It's NOT only underwear and positively NOT like a bikini. We might as well be nude wearing this stuff! Look, you can practically see everything." The 48 year old woman sounded indissoluble in her opinion.
I contemplated her last sentence. They had the stuff with them! They were trying it on! A very naughty idea was born.
Without knocking I suddenly opened the door as if I was in a hurry. "Mrs. van..."
My action caused immediate chaos. Two ladies were screaming at a very high pitch while they scrambled around the room. Next to them was a huge opened box, in which appeared to be lingerie. Mrs. Skinner was clad in a very skimpy red thong and equally skimpy matching bra. Mrs. van Zyl was wearing a modest white bra and nothing else. She was completely nude from the waist down. I must have interrupted just before she could try on the matching white panties in her right hand.
Both women's efforts to cover up failed miserably. Mrs. Skinner's hands moved frantically from her breasts to her crotch and back again. She then decided to offer her assets equal protection and kept one arm on her breasts while she covered her pubic area with the other. She didn't have to cover too much, for only the lowest part of the thong was visible from the layers that hung from her belly. Mrs. van Zyl quickly stretched the panties she had in her hand, out in front of her own pubic area. It wasn't much of a consolation for they were completely see-through.
"Excuse me..." I hurriedly closed the door. For a few seconds there was absolute silence inside the room. Then I heard it.
"Can't he knock! You see what comes from you and your ideas!" There was rage in Mrs. Skinner's voice. "I've never been so humiliated in my life!" The shouting continued.
"Come on Maureen, it was an accident. He couldn't have known. I should be the one upset, he's seen my...I'm so sorry, it's my fault, I forgot I told him to come by after school."
"But can't he knock?" Mrs. Skinner combined some tears with her rage.
"We're very relaxed in music class, pupils don't usually knock."
"Too relaxed I see!" Mrs. Skinner continued her frenzy.
I heard the sound of some zippers and elastic snaps and pictured two women dressing in a hurry in my head.
"We'll speak of this again Mrs. van Zyl!" Mrs. Skinner scurried out of the class, slamming the door behind her.
I was standing outside in the corridor as she came by. "Good afternoon Mrs. Skinner." I said politely.
She stopped and gave me a stare that could kill a cat. Saying nothing, she just pulled up her chin and shoulders and walked on. The 'knock-knock' of her high heels sounded like a rapid firing machine gun.
"Mrs. Skinner!" I yelled. "Your zipper, Mrs. Skinner!"
She stopped and looked down at her black pants. "Arghhh!" she roared and I heard the sound of a zipper being pulled up as she walked away.
I knocked on the music room's door.
"Come in," Mrs. van Zyl responded. To my disappointment she was dressed again, but nevertheless looked sexy in the tight fitting tracksuit pants and loose t-shirt.
"I see you learned to knock." We stared in each other's eyes and simultaneously exploded in laughter.
"You did it on purpose didn't you?" She asked nearly choking on her laughter.
"Well I couldn't help hearing your conversation and... well I decided I'll give her a reason to be really mad. Are we in trouble?" I asked concernedly.
"Nah, don't worry she's just a bit uptight. She'll be too embarrassed to tell anyone," she assured me.
There was an uncomfortable silence, both of us not knowing how to progress. This was going to be difficult.
"Hello Ann," I said and for the first time I used her name.
I couldn't think of any better ideas so I stepped forward and kissed her. Her lips lingered cautiously under mine before they subdued. I tasted the sweet flavour of musk in her breath, while our tongues entwined together in a mutual exploration of each other's mouths. I felt her hand behind my head as she drew me closer. The heat of her breasts scorched my chest as I embraced her. Her right leg encircled my thighs as she leaned against the piano. I felt the strength in it as it forced me into her inner circle. We crossed the thin barrier between pain and pleasure several times as our kisses became forceful, almost violent. Skilled fingers loosened the buttons on my shirt one by one. Her hands moved resiliently over my cheeks, down to my shoulders.
Her touch was almost magical as she dropped my shirt to the floor. Her hands continued the journey down my chest. She spread her fingers, as she moved over my chest's hair, advancing playfully to my nipples. She squeezed them to a painful erect state. A thousand sensations erupted from my stomach as she descended her touch over my belly to my belt's buckle. Her saliva was scalding hot and my whole body jolted as her lips closed over my left nipple. She shared the pleasure with the right, before she went back to my mouth again. I caressed the side of her head, sliding my fingers over her ear lobes, softly down the sides of her neck. I cupped both her breasts, massaged them gently, before I added more pressure, continuing almost rigorously. She struggled frantically to unfasten the buckle. One of my hands went down to assist her. My erection escaped its confines as she managed to release it from my Jockeys.
A beseeching urge to be inside of her overwhelmed me as I pulled both her tracksuit's pants and her panties down to her ankles. She strained her buttocks onto the piano and spread her knees, her legs still constrained by the clothes around her ankles. She succeeded with one last desperate effort to kick them from her feet, allowing both her legs to enclose my buttocks. The strength in her calves drew me closer to her waiting vagina. My penis was surrounded with her wetness as I shoved it into her, my balls clad in the overflow of her moisture. Her kisses were filled with a vivid energy. There was urgency in her as her mouth moved all over my face. My penis slipped out and in my haste to re-enter her, missed the entrance. My shaft went up through her slit, swallowed by the thickness of her lips. My tip touched the protruding knob of her clitoris and she bit into my under lip to block her cry of ecstasy. I moved my penis down her slit again. I lingered at her vagina's opening, teasing her with my presence, then moved my full length into her again.
Her breaths became shallow and fast. An unseen fist in her deepest core gripped my shaft. Tighter and tighter. I felt the contractions deep inside of her. She violently clenched her legs together as she came, forcing every spare inch of me into her. I joined her in the dance of pleasure, our bodies whirled together in one giant spasm of orgasm.
I helped Ann to carry the big box of lingerie to her car. "You didn't tell me the other models will be locals," I accused her.
"I know, forgive me. I was afraid you'd be scared and say no. And it's not all of them. I've got five friends joining us from the city as well.
"So, who's the other two?" I asked curiously. "I know it's you, Mrs. Skinner and her daughter. You might need to find two replacements as well, I don't think Mrs. Skinner or Lisa will appreciate my presence at the show."
"Oh don't worry, I'll speak to the old fart. If necessary I'll blackmail her with today's incident." There was a twinkle in her eyes. "The other two is, well you should know them, Cathy Simons and Belinda Jones."
I tried to picture the ladies in my head. Belinda Jones was the assistant at the local pharmacy. The long haired red head had quite a reputation in town. Many women regarded the 28 year old slender figure and implanted (so they believed) DD cups with envy and caution whenever she moved within a hundred feet from their husbands. She wouldn't have any problems with the show or male presence for that matter. She would most likely enjoy the attention to the full.
Mrs. Simons was a small petite looking woman in her 30's with bob cut black hair. She was reserved and composed in her manner, and fitted the description of 'local librarian' well. I tried to picture her in underwear, but it was a hard task. No matter how hard I pushed the boundaries of my imagination, there was still no need for a bra. I guessed if she ever wore one, it had to be a very small A-cup.
"You told them all about my presence?" I asked.
