I didn’t come to this life to suffer
It’s about 4pm, the school is quieting down in the warm late afternoon sun. Janice is sitting next to me, on the same side of my desk, as her son hovers near the door. There are piles of books and papers I haven’t graded yet, a million notes all over my desk. I don’t mind the interruption though, Janice is one of the moms who appreciates how I look after her son. Clearly she appreciates it a lot because she comes to see me very often, sitting close and finding excuses to touch me on the arm when she is speaking — a woman’s signal that she is comfortable with you and wants to explore.
Janice is a single mom, mid-thirties I’d guess, and I’m Ralph, 23, in my first year of teaching middle school. Janice’s son looks up to me like an uncle or older brother, and she is very grateful for it. Sometimes she brings me food, today she’s done one better and brought me herself in a frilly, loose-fitting, flowing white blouse; she leans forward to look at her son’s work and looks intently at it to give me time to look down her top. Beautiful, round, full melons, hanging just above the blouse so I can just see her areolae.
My cock stiffens as she leans on my arm and makes some vague remark about her son’s work. He calls from the door to ask if he can go play soccer with a few kids who haven’t gone home yet, and her tits wobble beautifully as she waves him off. Her hair falls over her face as she turns back to me. The clean smell of a woman’s hair is one of my favorite things in the world. That hair wafting over her tits, my face, my cock, even better. I wonder how long I’ve been imagining her frizzy dark curls and her olive complexion in the afternoon light as she rides my cock, the bangles on her arms jangling as she bounces. Big brown eyes smile at me and my attention drifts back into the room.
With her son out of the way she shifts closer as we look at the next bit of 6th grade curriculum, and her leg brushes mine. Just lightly. We’re both getting the idea that what we’re talking about is merely pretext as she settles her calf lightly on my shin. The milliseconds drag out over years as I pluck up the courage to do something, anything to show her I’m enjoying this. My shoe scrapes ungraciously over the floor as I try to shift my other leg closer, to what is an obviously uncomfortable position. What my move lacks in subtlety it makes up for in the rush of those first tentative steps of a romance. I return to the subject of the essay in front of me and gently squeeze her leg between mine. Her hand drops from my arm and settles lightly on my leg as she says something completely superfluous.
My boldness surprises me when I put my hand on hers and start “absent-mindedly” fondling it. Janice runs her hand through her hair and I realize her lips have been slightly apart for a while, in a slight pout, come-to-bed eyes staring into mine.
“Ralph,” she says — she only calls me by my first name when her son isn’t around — “would you be willing to come and give Robbie some extra tuition at our house some time?” Sure I would. He’s my top student and the brightest 12 year old I’ve met, but I’ll find any excuse to get closer to this mysterious woman. I turn to face her and we put our knees and hands together. “I’ll sit by the pool while you work and then we can have a swim afterwards and you could stay for dinner if you like,” she giggles with a shrug.
I decide to test the waters to see what reaction I get if I make it look like I’m going to kiss her. Her reply signal is what I have been waiting for. My backup plan is a dictionary behind her. I lean in, her chin tilts forward, her eyes close, her face soft and warm as I brush close to it, tantalizing her. I want to make it last. I cup my hand on her cheek and brush it back slowly through her hair. She gasps, my lips hovering just above hers. She slides her hand further up the inside of my thigh and I rest my lips on hers. So slowly. The agony of waiting, but she is enjoying it so much she barely moves, except to signal me to keep going, by letting her hands brush over my crotch.
I open my mouth wide and roll my tongue out into her mouth as our lips close. The slowest kiss I’ve ever had, so much happening at the same time. She runs her hands behind my hips and we stand together, as if by telepathy we had the same idea. She pulls me back into the storeroom behind my desk. Her hands caress my butt and I’m racking my brains to think how to get them inside my pants. I step back to loosen my tie, closing the door with my back and she stands leaning back against a shelf of books, lips still parted and eyes fixed strongly on me. The shaft of light coming through the top window is full on her, the little particles of dust we’ve disturbed float around her and give her a magical glow.
Without saying a word, she slowly starts unbuttoning her blouse, one button at a time. I stand still and watch. Halfway through I can see the space between her tits and think to myself that I’m going to plant my face there momentarily, which means this must be a dream. She has to get her hands under her full breasts to get to the next button and they squeeze together so delightfully, I’m still not sure how far this will go but I want to touch them more than I’ve ever wanted anything before. Must be a full minute later, the last button is undone and the blouse is still covering her nipples.
“Would you like to do the honors, Mr ____ ?”
I move in slowly, cupping my hands under her breasts the same way I did with her face. I brush lightly so I can feel the goosebumps rise. I stroke outwards as I open her blouse off her shoulders, it catches delightfully on her nipples as it opens. I kneel in front of her, she caresses my hair as I kiss, suck and nibble, rubbing my face all over the perkiest, most beautiful, olive skinned full tits I could have imagined. Fuck, I hope I get to see them bouncing. As I start squeezing them in my hands I note how there are no tan lines. I wish I lived next door to this woman!
Gently, she starts taking my pants off, and I turn my attention to her shapely form in her leggings. I’d taken to walking behind her whenever I could, especially going upstairs, watching soft cotton gently stretched over a fit, muscular but feminine pair of legs, and that ass! Watching her pussy through her thigh gap from behind makes me so hard I can’t walk. She once caught me looking at her camel toe but today I can finally ogle her pubic mound and the little air gap around it. I don’t know whether I prefer staring at the mound when it’s still clothed or when the clothes come off. When they come off this time, she stands facing me, and says, “All yours. You can do whatever you like.”
I crouch and get my eyes level with her slit. Outer lips just like I imagined them, a small gap separating them from her thighs all around, and I run my tongue through the gap between her leg and her mound. She shivers, reaching her hands up behind her to steady herself on the shelf behind her shoulders. It’s a sight etched into my memory like a photo, looking up at her tits suspended like that, her face starting to contort as her pussy starts to open up on its own. The inner lips push through as they become engorged, a little wave in the line up her slit as the thickening lips push against her clit, her legs still together in mock shyness.
My tongue caresses her outer lips and I let my breath out warmly on her clit. She ruffles my hair and moans, “Ohhfuckyeahmmm.” I have only been with a handful of women at this point so I’m not super experienced (but as a language teacher I suppose I am a cunning linguist). I just follow my instinct and basically french kiss her pussy. My hands have been running up and down between her tits and her ass, running long smooth strokes over her belly.
She takes my right hand and guides it to her pussy and rubs her clit and tells me to put a finger in. I reach in super slowly, she is dripping wet. I get a second finger in and then reach in hard for her G spot and my knuckles grind her pussy, she squeezes her legs together and she rubs her clit hard. She writhes and gyrates till she cums, screaming, “Yes,” loudly before biting her fist to stop herself making more noise. I slow down but she tells me to keep going, till she almost sounds like she is crying. The veins stick out of her neck, she’s sweating, her face and ears are red, her nipples are sticking out almost an inch long, and have gone from pink to dark red. She shakes and then lets go, steadies herself by grabbing on to my shoulders as she squirts her pussy juice all over my chest.
I stand up super close to her, her tits squashed against my chest and we lock in embrace, tongues exploring mouths again, my cock rock hard, pressing on her pussy. She still has her legs together. She lifts a leg up like a ballerina and hooks it on my arm, and I watch as her swollen folds open and stretch. There’s just nothing more beautiful than a pussy waiting for you.
Still standing, I push my cock into her pulsating pink pleasure. Then she brings her leg back down and squeezes her thighs back together. So fucking tight I can barely even thrust. She kisses me passionately and bounces up and down, bangles on her writs jangling as her disheveled hair whips my face into ecstasy in the golden sunlight. The feeling of her fingernails digging into my back and butt as she pulls me tight is incredible. I am more than ready to cum, I’m not holding it back, but she is so tight with her legs together I can’t shoot it out. I’m kind of skinny so I don’t think I can lift her weight but I want to feel her legs wrap around me. Instead I push her back onto the shelves, sitting her on one while her head knocks over a whole lot of stationery. A bucket of pairs of scissors scatter as her legs open wider for me and I thrust like a mad bull until I pulse seven or eight squirts of cum deep inside her.
Afterwards we dress quickly, straighten up as best we can. She grabs a pair of scissors on the way out and that later becomes our signal to each other — a pair of scissors or the motion of scissors with the hand.
The next morning I have my class lining up and she comes past and hands me one of her son’s books, and reminds me about extra tuition. Under the book I feel something soft leave her hand as she hands it over with a wink. I had the sense to keep it hidden — a lacy white pair of Janice’s panties to keep me company through the day.
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I didn’t come to this life to suffer
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