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From tenth grade through twelfth grade I had been going out with Terry. Blond, thin, flirtatious, Terry had been my first serious girlfriend. We got along great, and I foolishly but willingly spent every penny that I worked hard for on that girl. We spent a lot of time being goo-goo eyed with each other, and while there had been some heavy petting involved between us, we had never been to bed together. This was alright with me. I’d always been told that good girls wait. I planned to marry her when we both graduated high school and then we’d live happily ever after and have plenty of sex.
1969, the beginning of senior year; Terry showed up at my door with another guy. She cried, said she was sorry. The guy was older than me, had a car, a good job at a factory, and Terry said that she needed to get out of her father’s house now. The old man was driving her crazy… I tossed the ring she handed to me into the bushes, turning my back on her as she climbed into his car and drove out of my life…
Art class was the one sanctuary for me in school that fall. I saw less of my old friends, as I tried to re-invent whatever was wrong in myself, whatever it was that made Terry go. I wasn’t very good at art. I hadn’t taken an art class since sixth grade, but emotionally the class was very satisfying, and besides, there were lots of pretty girls in the class.
I made several new friends, all guys, and most of them slightly younger than me. My new pal Dave and I sat together and checked out girls while we drew and painted our way through projects. Dave was a linebacker on the football team. Handsome, and a good artist to boot, I enjoyed Dave’s thoughtful, yet simple perspective of the world: “Take things as they come, Johnny Boy…”.
Our art teacher, our real art teacher, got pregnant. By mid-semester, she was pretty large. “Students, I will be going on leave soon to have my baby. There will be a sub for the rest of the year, but I will stop in to see how you are progressing…and,” she added ominously, “how you are behaving”.
The next Monday, Sally showed up. Sally was thirty years old. Longish brown hair, brown eyes, five three or four, about one twenty, a sweet smile, and a pair of very bahis siteleri nice tits. Sally wore a dull green henley-style shirt and blue jeans. I thought see looked cool, sort of sexy, for a teacher.
Sally had not been in a classroom before, so she wasn’t very hip to the ways of adolescents. Sally also was a bit on the soft-spoken side, so the fellows sized her up as ripe for taking advantage of. Me, I just laughed quietly as the guys planned their boyish pranks. Personally, I thought that she was nice, so I was going to sit this party out.
Cutting class with fake notes was common for the first week of Sally’s reign. Finally, some other teacher clued Sally in on what was happening, so that practice stopped. The next prank made Sally feel very bad. I could see the embarrassment in her eyes when she told the class that her keys had disappeared, and that she would be in big trouble if she didn’t get them right back. I felt sorry for Sally. She really was very nice. The libra in me, always concerned about injustice stepped forward without hesitation. “Mrs. W, I’ll get your keys back for you by tomorrow. Don’t worry.”
Sally smiled: “Thank you John! I would really appreciate that!” she added quietly.
Art class was first period. By third period I had found the guy who took the keys, and talked him into giving them to me.
“Here they are Mrs. W” I said, handing the surprised subsitute her keys.
“Oh John, you are a gem!” said Sally greatfully. “I’ve been thinking about how to reward you if you did get back my keys. What do you think about a private art lesson at my house? Say, tomorrow afternoon?”
Hey, I was innocent about these things! I honestly thought Sally was ready to give me some private drawing instructions. Besides, she was cool to talk to. I would enjoy the sessions…little did I know how much… “Sure Mrs. W. Thanks! Where do you live?”
Sally drew me a map. “Here’s my number, in case you get lost. Be there at 1p.m.”
I assured Sally that I would be there on time. No problem, especially as I had study hall that period, and I could fake my way out of class without getting marked absent.
I arrived at Sally’s house at 12:55pm the next day. She canlı bahis came to the door to let me in. Sally brought me into the living room. The smile on her face was sincere, lovely, somehow shy. “Would you like a coke or a glass of wine?”
I watched as Sally poured us both a glass of wine and returned from the kitchen. The living room was small, but very neat. There was an old sofa in the middle of the room. In front of the sofa was a Persian rug that took up about half of the room, leaving the place very spacious in appearance. An upright piano stood against the wall in back of the sofa. “Cool place Mrs. W” I said. “Looks very…arty!”
“Would you do me a favor John?” Sally asked, setting her wine glass down on a small table. “Call me Sally, will you?”
The first inkling of what was to come sent an excited shiver up my spine. “Sure Mrs. W, I mean Sally.”
I sat my glass down as Sally moved toward me, her lips parting expectantly. Sally kissed me softly on the lips, holding her lips still against mine for a few moments while her eyes searched mine. I put my arms around her, embracing her, tenderly returning her kiss. My cock grew stiff in my pants. Our passions, ignited by the lure of something more,grew. We kissed deeper, held each other more romantically, savored each other’s scent.
Sally looked into my eyes, apologetically.
“John, please don’t be mad at me. We can’t make love until the next time we meet. I’ve never done this sort of thing before, and I’m not quite ready for making love yet. Is that ok?”
Here I was, making out with my teacher, still a virgin, and Sally was telling me that the next time we met we would have sex. “Oh,sure, ya, that’s ok. No problem.”
Sally kissed me. “Well, then I’ll see you here Friday, same time, ok?”
“Umm, Sally, what about your husband?” I asked, not wanting to break the spell, but after all, she did have other considerations.
“John, I’ll tell you all about that part of my life on Friday. Act like you just had an art lesson. The neighbors might be watching.”
Man, Friday could not come fast enough. I was excited, but a little torn between really falling for Sally and being jeaulous that I had to share güvenilir bahis her.
I got to Sally’s Friday at one. She let me in, like the last time. This time though we went straight to making out. God I loved it when her hand moved into my pants, grabbing my stiff cock. It was even better when she took it out of my pants. This was the furthest that I had ever been with anyone. I gently unzipped her pants, pulling them down to her knees. Sally lay back on the Persian rug, and without pulling her pants the rest of the way off, she pulled me down on top of her. I was so excited that I came almost as soon as I entered her.
“I’m sorry” I said with embarrassment. “That was my first time, and I was too excited. Can we try again in a little while?”
Sally smiled sweetly. “Of course we can,” she said. “No problem…”
We moved to the bedroom, removing our clothes along the way. Now the real lovemaking started. We moved under the covers, caressing, nibbling, exploring, kissing. I asked Sally if I could put on a record album that I had brought over.
“Sure, what is it?” she asked.
“McCartney” I replied, “It just came out!” There was a song on the album called “Kareen-Akrore” that sounded like two lovers making love and then coming together. We made fabulous love to that song, stroking each others bodies, my hard cock pushing into her creamy, delicious pussy, finally coming together just as the lovers on the record seemed to. That was a special day. I know for a fact that my cock grew a few inches after the incredible love-making we had had. Sally was special, and would be for many months to come…
After making love a second time, Sally told me about her old man.
“My husband takes a yoga class. He’s been enamored with one of the women in the class, so he came home one night and asked me if he could make love to this woman. I’m shocked. He tells me that if I find someone, I have his permission to do the same…so, here we are…Funny thing is, the woman turned him down when he asked, so this…will be our secret, for now.”
Who was I to argue with that kind of logic?
“You better go John,” Sally whispered, “P” might come home soon. I’ll see you next Wednesday?”
“Wednesday it is..” I said, giving her a last passionate kiss, “If I can wait that long!”
I wanted to tell her that I loved her, but somehow having a husband in the mix told me to hold that thought…
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