All Characters In This Story Are 18+ Years Old
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In truth, Edward Trotter could hardly believe that he, a 30-year-old high school mathematics teacher, had actually fucked an 18-year-old student, let alone taken her virginity. Yet, here she was, the next day, curled up on his lap after giving him a blow-job. Such an impossible circumstance, never once contemplated in his six-year career since graduating Teachers' Normal in Albany and moving west, must be a dream. He inhaled the provocative, very real, floral scent of Mary McGuinness' 'Arpège' perfume. If it was a dream, it was a dream come true.
Mentally thanking Mrs. Anderson, the English teacher, for her sudden illness, Trotter basked and praised his good fortune. "Right time - right place, Pal," he thought to himself for the umpteenth time since he had wiped Mary's cherry juice from his turgid tool at a quarter to four yesterday afternoon. "What a lucky duck you were to walk into the Faculty Room, carrying a copy of 'Parzival', just as Mr. Pederson was lamenting to Mr. Fowler that no one was available to fill in for the Senior English class."
Trotter smiled as he reflected again on the unexpected consequence of Fowler pointing at the book and asking, "Aren't you free this period, Trotter? Can you just cover for Mrs. Anderson's last class today?" Before he could answer, Pederson interjected with the authority only a school principal can muster, "OF COURSE he can... CAN'T you, Trotter."
While Mary nestled her warm soft welcome weight in the crook of his left arm, Edward mused in his chair, "'And the rest was history', as they say... Or rather, ENGLISH!" With a low chuckle at his internal quip, he kissed the girl's wet mouth and tasted his dribbling cum. Casually cupping and caressing her left tit through her frock, he asked, "SO, did you LIKE my 'curds and whey' Miss Mary Muffet?"
Mary broke the kiss, smiled broadly and licked her lips clean of Trotter's saliva and semen. "Oh YES, Teddy, very MUCH! But I still want to FEEL you... you know, INSIDE me." She pouted and kissed him, then added, "Remember? YOU PROMISED! You said, 'again and again and again'!"
"Yes, Mary, I remember," Edward answered. "I DID say that. How long can you stay this afternoon?"
"Oh, I can stay for hours and hours," Mary replied, while she lifted her left hand and traced Trotter's face, from his ear to his chin, with her index fingernail. He involuntarily shivered. "Mama and Papa went to a charity marathon dance contest this morning... they're going to win groceries... even a HAM! Anyway, Mama said they would not be home until after breakfast." Mary poked her fingertip into Edward's mouth. He automatically sucked the first knuckle and tweaked her nipple. She yipped, squirmed, withdrew her finger and hugged his neck with both hands as she laid her chest square against his. Twisted like a pretzel, Mary breathed into Trotter's ear, "Will that be OK? I can cook, you know!"
Edward slipped his hands around her waist and stood from the chair, carrying Mary with him into an upright embrace. "MORE than 'OK', my pet," he said huskily. "Why don't you get out of those clunky old shoes? I'll be right back." Without waiting for a response, Trotter turned, pulled up his trousers and walked to his bedroom at the back of the cottage. Mary sat back down on the fat rectangular ottoman at the foot of the overstuffed chair and pulled the laces on her dusty brown oxfords.
When Trotter returned to the parlor, his tall muscular frame was evident even within the shimmering folds of his maroon silk dressing gown. Its vertical gold, black and white stripes flattered as the sleeves flapped loosely around his large hands and strong wrists, while he approached Mary silently on smooth leather carpet slippers. She drew in a sudden thoughtful breath when she perceived his bare hairy shins and guessed he was naked, or nearly so, beneath his robe.
Flustered, and excited, by her teacher's intimate attire, Mary blurted, "You have a gramophone!"
"Yes," Edward answered, as he swept her into his arms, enfolding his Mandarin sleeves around her upper back. "It's Victrola's newest model. If I had to eat nothing but beans, everyday for a year, I wouldn't mind, so long as I could listen to good music on the gramophone." He rubbed Mary's shoulders and slid his hands vertically along her ribs to her hips and back.
"In fact, I was just listening to 'Orchestre des Concerts Straram' performing Igor Stravinsky's 'The Rite of Spring'. Mary's pussy percolated as Trotter's sensual back rub worked its magic while his modulated voice continued to mesmerize her. "It's the first recording of the work, just done last year in Paris, and conducted by the composer, himself." She was mystified by Trotter's foreign and technical words, but she did not want him to ever stop holding her.
"Mmmmm, that's nice, Teddy," Mary mumbled into Trotter's wide soft lapels. Her fingers naturally kneaded his lower back above the sash as she melted into him.
Misunderstanding Mary's mewl for musical appreciation, Edward breathed over her blonde hair, " I just got the new Polydor recording of Ravel's 'Bolero'. It is ALSO conducted by the composer, but with the Lamoureux Orchestra, this past January." He squeezed her bottom as his throbbing dick, which had no misunderstanding of the teen's physical response, rose beneath his silk and pressured her abdomen while he asked, "Would you like me to play it for you?"
"Nyyaahh..." Mary gurgled as her cunny squished between her thighs. She crunched her bottom and thrust herself hard on to Trotter's hard-on. "P-please... uhhnn! ... PLAY..." Her words lapsed into guttural groans and she dug her fingernails through the silk into her teacher's unprotected ass.
Trotter broke their embrace and rasped, "OK." Leaving the surprised girl in the lurch, he turned to the record player and replaced Stravinsky with Ravel. Cranking the handle, and lowering the needle arm to the twelve-inch platter, loosened his silken belt. As the fifteen-minute crescendo softly began to fill the room, Trotter's seven-inch boner lifted its head through his robe's separating front.
Mary pounced like the poetic spider upon the meat she espied in the parlor. Hugging Trotter from behind, she reached around and cranked his handle. While her fist flashed up and down, she ground her groin against his taut buttocks and drug her chin, hard, the length of his spine. "NO, Teddy!" She emphatically growled between his shoulder blades. "I meant 'Play' with ME!"
Quick as a wink, Trotter spun in her grasp and pulled Mary tight. The coarse sackcloth of her dress abraded his bare belly and reminded him that she, unlike he, was still clothed. "Of COURSE!" He hissed his reply. "I'll put YOU on and listen to YOUR music, just as soon as I take your DUST jacket off!" Like lightning, he raised the hem of her 'Ful-O-Pep' dress, and her silk chemise with it. All a-twitter, Mary raised her arms and assisted as he inverted the garments. They came over her head with a single swift long pull and flew across the room leaving her laughing in her linsey-woolsey socks.
Trotter lifted Mary into the air. She automatically locked her ankles behind the small of his back, and double-wrapped her forearms behind his neck, while she smashed her mouth onto his. Edward's dick rubbed across her peach slit and anus as it slid between the cheeks of her hind end. "You MISSED," she giggled into his ear.
"You JUMPED," Trotter argued. His cock flexed in the tight groove between her moons. She shimmied her tits on his chest, worming them beneath the open lapels of his robe and warming his own breasts as she crushed herself flat.
"Try AGAIN... Ted...EEEE," Mary teased, nipping his left earlobe and sending an electric shock through his nervous system.
Trotter cupped her ass in his strong hands and pushed her butt outward while he semi-squatted and pulled in his gut. The adjustments to his erect angle were perfect. When he hauled Mary back to himself, she sighed her satisfaction as his stiff stalk slid deep into her poised pussy. Edward groaned while she writhed in his basket-hold and settled her collapsing cunt around his cock. He thrust upward deeper still. She moaned and sealed her mouth on his shoulder in the hollow of his left collarbone.
The Bolero recording grew louder without changing its tempo. Trotter felt the Lamoureux Orchestra's insistent translation of Ravel's motif in his very soul. His loins conformed to the tone poem's measured beat as he swung them resolutely while clutching Mary's bottom. She bit into his neck and rolled her pelvis in his palms. Unaware of the outside world, Trotter and Mary spun and swayed slowly on the hook rug.