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Author’s note: All the characters in this story are eighteen years or older. The events described here are all subsequent to one particular eighteenth birthday.
There are some things in life you can never prepare for. Afterwards Daffyd mused that all the warning in the world would still have left him startled and amazed. It was just one of those things.
Late afternoon. T-shirt warm, with enough breeze to bend the she-oaks and set them sighing. The track wound across the dunes, each rise and dip working upwards towards the head of the Bay and the views which were balm for his weary soul at the end of another day. Here amongst the shifting sand and the nodding grasses he could set aside the frustrations of trying to teach physics to high school students. Here he could let his mind blank with the exertion of the walk and the expectation of nothing more confronting than a cockatoo disturbed from feeding in the scrubby trees.
The route Daffyd took each day was rarely used by others: its ducking and weaving kept the sea hidden until the final climb to the headland, but he liked the sense of isolation and the chance to be himself by himself.
He pushed on, humming quietly, and unprepared.
Jo was lost. So deep in the sensation of the moment she was already past the point of no return. She guessed physics somehow governed the movements of her hand but this was more significantly an experiment in psychology. All she needed to do now was let it happen.
As Daffyd crested the dune he almost lost his footing in the soft sand. He stuck out a hand, steadied himself, straightened and looked up. Blue jeans caught his attention — amidst the gold and greens of the hollow the contrast drew his eye. The jeans were crumpled around a girl’s legs; she lay against the slope facing him, pale skin and copper-gold hair hunched over her hands at the junction of her thighs. Her left hand was hooked in cornflower blue panties while her right blurred out of sight beneath them.
Her head was down, focussed exclusively on the release her hand promised. Daffyd knew two things in that instant: she hadn’t seen him, and he should make his retreat as quickly and silently as possible. But she was gorgeous — her open blouse revealed small, creamy breasts crowned with puffed pink nipples. Her hair was a natural rich red, uncommon enough that Daffyd immediately knew who it was before him: Joanne Cooper! Branxholm High’s resident geek, always hidden behind glasses and a layer of reserve keeping the world at bay.
The realisation rooted him to the spot, even as she began to utter intense little cries. “Ungh… ungh.. oh fuck, oh, fuck!” Her belly rippled as she curled further over her rapid fingers. Daffyd stood transfixed. The girl’s face was flushed, her head tossed and her heels dug into the sand. “Oh fuck, oh yes, oh fuck, fuck!” and she was coming, jerking and trembling, crying out in the ecstasy of release, her face now an utter revelation. Inhibitions lost and her passion transparent in the intensity of the moment.
Daffyd struggled to take it all in. The sight of Jo Cooper shuddering her way to satiation was too unexpected, too surreal, too hypnotic for him to do anything other than watch.
Until she looked up.
Even as the last wave of sensation washed through her, she knew he was there. Still panting she raised her eyes, deep hazel green shining in the knowledge she was the focus of his shocked attention. And she smiled.
“Are you okay?” Daffyd glanced up, startled.
Karen asked again, “Are you okay? You’ve been really distracted all evening. I’ve hardly got two words out of you even when I asked about your favourite topic, the joys of convincing Branxholm’s youth that physics is a noble subject.” His wife’s tone was gently bantering but he couldn’t help notice the underlying concern in her voice. She was right: he was totally out of it, his mind in turmoil trying to deal with the afternoon’s surprises. And what was he supposed to make of the smile?
He’d fled, pure and simple. The isolation of the track through the scrub no longer a comfort; instead, as he hurried from the vision in blue jeans, he imagined each turn in the track revealing some familiar small town face, someone who would somehow instantly divine teacher and student had shared much more than physics theorems in a hollow in the dunes.
And he’d panicked about what to say to Karen when she got home from a day bent over her architect’s board and who wanted nothing more than to relax with a red wine and quiet meal. Logic told him to tell her immediately and to tell her everything. It had been pure coincidence, surely, that he’d come across one of his students masturbating in the bush? He had done nothing more serious than pause a moment too long before turning away, right? Then why the hell was he so reluctant to breathe a word to Karen?
And why did Joanne Cooper smile?
“It’s güvenilir bahis nothing,” he began. “Today was just a little more taxing than usual. Just trying to deal with teenage hormones. Theirs, not mine,” he joked.
“Good,” replied Karen, “because I’m going to need you fully present a little later tonight. I have an itch and you’re the only one who can scratch it.”
She smiled at him across the dining table, his wife of fourteen years. When they’d first met, he’d been blown away that she was at all interested in him. He had been a much too serious uni student while she was the centre of attention wherever she was and whatever she was doing. They’d shared one second-year maths subject, worked together on the set group assignment, and finished up — somehow, improbably – in bed together.
She was tall, curvy and captivating. Where other girls shook long fake-blonde tresses and laughed too much at the posturing of the boys, Karen was all style. As now, she wore her brunette hair cut pixie short to reveal the long curve of her neck. As now, she favoured simple elegance over bling. As now, she exuded an air of confidence which made her at once totally desirable and unattainable.
She’d actually been quite lonely at Uni: the boys lusted after her but were either too lacking in self-confidence to approach her or too ego-driven to be of interest, while the girls disliked her because she revealed their shortcomings. Lonely until Daffyd came along. Yes, he was gobsmacked by her beauty but he’d simply focussed on working with her. That led to getting to know her and discovering her sense of fun and her interest in those around her, Daffyd included.
He remembered their first attempts at love-making — uncertain kisses transforming into breathless hours of lips and tongues and whispered words of love and lust. The first time Daffyd had cupped her breast he’d been shaken by the strength of Karen’s needful moan. Not surprisingly, he’d assumed she was far more experienced than he was. That urgent response to his caress stirred him. His own body ached to touch and be touched, but he refused to rush and the hours and days and weeks of their first explorations drove them deeper and deeper together.
Watching Karen’s hips sway as she carried their dishes from the table to the kitchen, he realised he still felt that passion for her, that same desire to caress her and light her fires and meet her needs with his own.
So why was the image of the redhead with her jeans around her knees and eyes screwed ecstatically tight so captivating?
After dinner, for Daffyd there’d been assignments to mark. Thankfully, it wasn’t the Final Year class, so he wasn’t assailed with questions of how to grade something from a self-pleasuring redhead. Even so, she hadn’t been far from his thoughts, until, “Coming to bed?”
Karen stood in the doorway to the study, freshly showered and turning a plain white tee into an incredibly glamorous piece of bedwear. The book he’d been working on was slapped shut (“Thank God! Who would have thought simple levers were beyond the fifteen year old mind?”) and he rose to catch her before she turned for the bedroom. His arms went around her and he leant forward to touch his lips to hers.
“Were you a hussy in high school?”
She was soft and warm against him, her breasts pillowed against his chest and the jasmine scent of her shampoo perfuming each breath.
“Strange question,” she answered. “Why do you want to know?”
Why, indeed? Because sometimes nice girls act like hussies? Sometimes nice girls take their knickers down in public? Sometimes the geekiest girls turn out to be as hot as the colour of their hair?
“Well, you’re such a shameless hussy now it had to start somewhere.”
“Me? Shameless?” She pushed her hips forward against his groin and he felt himself stir and thicken. “Me? A hussy?” And her hands reached around to grab his bum and jerk him against her. “Me?” And she bent her head and bit into his shoulder, just enough to make him squirm.
“Hussy,” he hissed. “Let me shower and then I’m yours.”
She laughed and pulled away. “Hurry, or I might have to start without you!”
Damn. He stood in the shower with an image in his head of a girl who had started without him. He saw again the pale, peach perfection of her exposed skin, and heard her whimpers as she twisted against the sand. In his hand, his cock was full and heavy and pulsing with the beat of his blood. He slid his fingers against the hot, wet skin and stifled a moan remembering the violence of the sensations that had shaken her and, as she’d calmed, the knowing look she’d shot him. Damn.
Her pussy had been hidden beneath the scrap of cornflower blue, but he’d never witnessed anyone so completely exposed as Jo had been at that moment, and yet it seemed as if she had been totally in control. She’d smiled.
Daffyd emerged from the bathroom with a tent in his pyjama pants.
“Is that for me?” Karen put aside güvenilir bahis siteleri the book she’d been distracting herself with. “Why don’t you bring that thing over here where I can put it to use?”
He slid in beside her and pulled her close. A lock of dark hair had fallen across her forehead and he brushed it back before touching his lips to the spot. Her arms came up and she pulled his mouth down to hers, reaching for him greedily. “Mmmm,” she crooned, before opening to him, drawing his tongue into the heat of her mouth. “Mmmm,” and her hum filled him and stirred him. He struggled not to begin rubbing his body hard against hers, struggled not to leap ahead in the script of their love making.
Even so, she sensed his urgency. “Ha. I thought I was the one in a hurry tonight.” Her voice was a little uneven and she pulled him in again, this time turning her body against him and lifting a bare leg over his thigh. His hand went to it and smoothed a path from knee to hip and back again. Her skin was velvety beneath his fingertips and she hummed again and pressed her lips against him in need. Now she squirmed to catch his thigh between hers and began slowly grinding herself against him.
“You are in hurry,” Daffyd murmured. “If only I knew how to help you out.”
“Bastard,” she came back. “You’ve got hands, haven’t you?”
“I’ve got a tongue, too. I’m just not sure which is better for scratching certain itches.”
He pushed her back down against the bed and pulled his thigh away enough to make way for a finger or two. Foreplay appeared to have gone out the window tonight as he pressed forward to find her wet and wanting. She groaned and opened herself wide. “Fuck!” she said. “That feels good.”
His fingers swept around the curves of her lips, traced their outline and circled again. She lifted her hips trying to locate his hand where she needed it most, against the aching nub of her clit. He avoided it as best he could but it wasn’t long before his finger found the hardened bud straining for attention amidst the wet folds of Karen’s cunt.
She jerked and gave a little cry, then settled into a panting acceptance of Daffyd’s attentions. At first he circled, finger dragging wetness one way and then the other. She whimpered.
In the half dark of the bedroom, Daffyd watched her face. She was gone away to that place where orgasms gathered like storm clouds, adrift in the sensations building towards release. She was so aroused so quickly, something that happened from time to time. Usually it was when her body needed to blow away stress, sometimes it was when “that time of the month” was just around the corner, and sometimes it was … what?
Now he changed tack, drawing his finger up to the fold at the head of her cleft, listening to the catch in her breath as the stimulation eased before pressing the length of his digit down, dragging it across her clit. The tip of his finger found the entrance to her pussy and dipped and curled in. Karen grunted and lifted her hips, feeling the double sensation of clit and cunt, and gasping her approval. Daffyd drew back, emptying her, back over her clit as she gasped again, before repeating the process.
She loved the pressure of his stiffened finger and the rhythm of press and penetration. “Fuck! I’m not going to last long if you keep that…”
He cut her short by swiftly adding a second finger and pressing deeper into her. His fingers hooked back to find her G-spot, knowing that when Karen was like this it was only a temporary measure to distract her. He found the spongy tissue and rapidly fucked it with his hand. “Unh, unh,” she grunted and, without hesitating, added her hand to the action between her legs.
Daffyd’s cock leapt in recognition: Karen’s hand, Jo’s hand. Again the memory forced its way to the surface. She’d fucked herself while he stood watching! Her fingers were out of sight as Karen’s were now, busy in the wild wetness, calling forth the wave of feeling that would wash her away. And Karen was whimpering and gasping but Daffyd was hearing the usually silent teenager cry, “Fuck! Fuck!”
Suddenly, Karen was arching and twisting against him, her hips lifting and cunt tightening and grasping around his fingers. “Shiiiiiiiittt!” she wailed. In the dim light of the bedroom, he watched her face contort, teeth gritted and bared, struggling to hold back her cries and groans. “Shit, shit, shiiiitt! Ungh, yes, oh yes!” He could only marvel at the intensity of raw feeling sweeping over her, at the ease with which her body lifted him, at her momentary lack of awareness of anything other than the release of all that had built up throughout her body.
“Shit.” She collapsed and lay gasping. “Oh, god, that was good.”
Daffyd found his own breathing was stuttering. At climax, Karen’s face had been so different from Jo’s and yet the abandonment to the feeling had been so frighteningly similar. It was Karen he was lying next to but his body was somehow reacting iddaa siteleri as much to other possibilities. His cock felt super swollen. It throbbed and throbbed again, drawing his wife’s attention.
“Here,” she murmured. She was still panting, her belly rising and falling. Still twitching a little as she came down. “Let me help with that.”
Her fingers curled around him, his thickness filling her hand so that thumb and fingers could barely meet. Even with her limited experience, Karen had always delighted in the size of his prick. “Size doesn’t matter,” she’d joked again and again, while always loving the way he filled her so completely. In her hand he was hot and heavy and heaving.
She pulled him towards her, opening herself to bring him the relief he patently needed. “Wait,” Daffyd groaned. “I want…”
“What? What do you want?”
“Oh, god. I want… Can I …?” He clearly didn’t know how to articulate the overwhelming urge to capture his feelings from the afternoon and add them to this lovemaking. Instead, he pulled back and moved to kneel over Karen. She reached for him again, but he gently removed her hand and replaced it with his own.
“Ah!” she smiled. Now she touched his hip, nudging him to straddle her thighs. “Mmmm… Fuck yourself for me, Davy. Come for me.”
And his hand unbidden answered her. He pumped, slowly at first but rapidly his control gave way to the urgency of his need. He was so full, so aching, so caught by the smile she’d given him. What? Did she want him? Did she want his cock?
“Oh, god.” And he was coming. “Oh! God!” His fist tightened and pumped hard down against his groin. His cock drew his entire being in and then he climaxed, jerking hard, veins of pure electric bliss erupting and spilling out. His head went back as he pumped again, lights sparking behind his tight-shut eyes. Her eyes too had been screwed tight as she shook and cried. “Fuck!” Daffyd echoed her. “Fuck!”
The pleasure was enormous. Even as the spasms slowed and he managed to get his eyes open, he still shook with sensation. He’d been plugged in and charged and spent all in a few brief moments of shocking power.
“Fuck,” he groaned again. Across Karen’s belly were splashes and trails of come, beaded evidence of his loss of control.
“God,” she whispered, “That was awesome.”
He tried to find a suitable response and couldn’t. He moved away in search of tissues, before collapsing next to her.
As she mopped herself, Karen asked, “What was that about?”
He thought for the briefest moment of trying to evade the question, but realised the futility of the idea. She knew him too well. Still, perhaps there was a way.
“I’ll tell you if you’ll tell me.”
She laughed. “Me? I was just horny.”
“Sure you were. But something was pushing your buttons.”
“Okay, mister smartypants, there was. But I’m not sure how you’re going to handle it.” She turned against him, an arm across his chest and her leg again resting on his thigh. She lay quietly for a moment, before moving, this time lifting herself up on her elbow so she could watch him as she spoke.
“I had a visitor this afternoon. Just before I left the office a girl came in. I think she’s one of your students. Joanne Cooper.”
Time stood still. Daffyd’s mind was a sudden maelstrom. What did Karen know? How should he react? What should he say? In the seething confusion of that instant, one thought dominated: play it cool! But how to be cool when his wife had put her finger on the source of his arousal?
“You leapt! You dead-set leapt! Now why would that be?” Karen’s tone was all tease. “Why on earth would Joanne Cooper coming in to the office startle you?” She put a hand on his chest and drew circles with a finger while he tried to find an answer.
“I thought you were telling me why you were horny. And then you tell me you saw one of my students. Are you saying Jo makes you horny?”
It was the best he could come up with and he hoped like fury she couldn’t see the panic he was feeling.
Again she chuckled, before adding in her best DemTel voice, “But wait. There’s more!
“That sweet little girl, very serious, came in to tell me she might have upset you. That you might have accidentally seen her when she was sunbaking topless. That seeing her breasts might have offended you. She tells me that you’re ‘a great teacher’ and she doesn’t want you to be … how did she put it? ‘I just don’t want him going around with my naked breasts in his head.'”
It was Daffyd’s turn to laugh. “She said that? ‘I don’t want him going around with my breasts in his head?’ But hang on a minute. You still haven’t told me what this has to do with you being in such a hurry tonight.”
“Well, you weren’t there, darling. You didn’t see the whole performance.”
“Oh, yes. She came in very quiet like and not until I was the last one in the building. She had a beach towel around her shoulders at first, but once we started talking she pulled that off. God! Eighteen year old girls! I used to have a body like that once. Her jeans were skin tight and I swear I could see the outline of her pussy. And she was wearing this unbelievably thin blouse with no bra.”
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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