Chapter 1
The light spring rains that always followed the winter thaw in Old Orchard Beach, Maine, were falling ceaselessly outside. The rhythmic pitter-patter of the drops against her bedroom window pane greeted Susan Mayer when she woke. She had left the window open slightly the night before, and the cool air which blew through the crack rustled the lampshade on the nightstand, and rippled across the thin blanket which covered her. She stirred, frowning at first as she unconsciously tried to cover herself more, then she slowly became fully awake and saw that the blanket was knotted at the foot of the bed. She glanced at the alarm clock beside her; it was almost eight o'clock.
Darn, she thought, rolling over. Another night of tossing and turning, another morning of waking up to nothing ... her first nature study class was at nine-thirty. She would just have time to shower, put on her make up and have her morning cup of black coffee before it was time to get to school. Thank God she didn't still have a husband to feed and see off to work.
Upset by the morbid reminder of her ex-husband she had pushed from her life, Susan kicked the covers aside impatiently and stood up. She flounced her long, silky red hair, yawning as she padded barefoot out of the small bedroom and to the kitchenette. She was wearing a rumpled paid of woollen pajamas as she had every night since her divorce from John. Sleeping naked made her feel dirty somehow, as though it was an immoral flaunting of her body, and a soft and filmy negligee reminded her too acutely that she was supposedly a woman underneath. A pair of woolly pajamas, on the other hand, seemed appropriate to her; they completely covered her huge young tits and naked pussy with the same contempt for sexual blatancy she felt herself.
The kitchenette was a one-unit stove, refrigerator and sink, set in an alcove at the far side of the living room. She put a kettle of water on for coffee, then lit her first cigarette of the day. Inhaling the cool smoke, she turned and went to the large glass window which opened out onto her back ground floor terrace. She stood there for a long moment with her arms folded across her pajama-covered tits, knowing she was safe from peeping Toms because of the high sugarpine fence which encircled her small outside patio.
The apartment in which she lived was only a year old, a red brick type, so common to New England. The building was managed by Andy Stotski, a biology teacher in the same school she taught in, and his wife, who lived next door. She liked her apartment for it was small enough for one person or a couple, quite private in its way and nicely decorated in the rustic woodsy style of wood-paneled walls and beam ceilings. She had rented it unfurnished, moving in some of the furniture she'd had before her marriage and had stored with some friends. She had tried to dress the place up with soft carpets, large cushiony chairs and couch, and some very fine framed prints of French Impressionists. But somehow, no matter how hard she tried, the apartment remained lonely and cold to her. Perhaps, she thought as she shivered slightly before the window, it's because I'm lonely and cold too, and the apartment is a reflection of myself....
"Oh, God," the voluptuous young redhead whispered heavily and leaned her head against the cool glass. Every time she thought about John, and her three-month marriage to him, she could sense the icy chill in her pussy growing. Instead of the womanly warmth and wildly screaming cums that love should have brought her, she only had the frigid emptiness of pain and despair. There had been things wrong about John, as there were with any human being, but instinctively she realized that the blame for the marriage failing rested squarely on her shoulders. Or rattier, she thought with a tight little grimace, the blame rested right up inside that frigid little hole between her legs....
The coffee began to bubble over with a loud hiss of steam, breaking the young teacher's painful reverie. She hurried to the kitchen where she stubbed out the cigarette and poured herself a cup of coffee. She took the cup back to the bedroom and went to her closet, selecting a light blue dress that was a little tight for her tits, and short for her full thighs, she thought, but was a lovely woollen knit just perfect for spring. Then she stepped around to the front of the bed where she could watch herself in the mirror beside the dresser as she opened the drawers and took out a clean pair of white nylon panties and a thin sheer bra. Straightening, she looked into the mirror and slowly unbuttoned the top of her pajamas, shrugging it free to fall to the floor. Naked from the waist up, her huge tits firm and rising as she breathed, she slowly untied the drawstring of her woolly pajama bottoms and watched as they gently slid down the full length of her long tapered legs. She stepped out of them and stared at all of her sleek nakedness in the glass, scanning with a critical eye the nude woman she saw reflected.
Smiling kittenishly, she swept her hair away from her shoulders, raising her arms in a classic nude pose. Her full tits stretched taut, their pink-fleshed areolas making them perfect uptilted accents for her roundly crinkled nipples. Her eyes moved across the mirror's surface, slowly working down across the flat plane of her belly and past the tiny outline of her navel, down to the copperily wafting triangle of her pussy hairs. The soft, shiny curls of the cunt hairs highlighted the tender pink flesh of her thin, puffy little pussy lips beneath, and she could even see the tiny tip of her clitoris peeking out from the crested valley between her thighs in almost child-like shyness.
She pirouetted lightly, examining the dimpled roundness of her satin-skinned thighs and naked ass cheeks, the rippling muscles along the backs of her legs-a gradual sensual curving of flesh. Her face went well with her body; it had a sort of pouty, flirtatious look about it, with its small nose and full ripe mouth and large hazel eyes, her hair red and stunning like Arlene Dahl's. Now naked and disturbingly desirable, there was nothing to indicate the inner frigidity of her cunt. She looked all woman, a totally sensual female ready to fuck.
"Here I am, a thirty-year-old teacher," she murmured under her breath. "I've still got a firm, youthful body, but what good is it to me? I might as well be an ugly old hag. What's wrong with me?"
She knew, deep down in her soul, why she hadn't been able to respond to her ex-husband the way a woman should even though she had loved him very much. It had been her aunt with whom she had grown up after her parents' death, her puritanical aunt and her conservative Midwest upbringing. Her aunt had had to explain the mysteries of sex to Susan when she began to menstruate and had tearfully run home thinking she was bleeding to death, and the teachings had consisted entirely of warnings about the bestiality of men. It was a man's world where women were playthings, good for nothing but chores and submitting to the disgusting, animal-like desires which overcame a man's narrow mind. A woman had to endure and never allow herself to willingly serve in the evil, filthy act of intercourse. Her aunt, a devout woman, had instilled the teachings of St. Peter and St. Thomas Aquinas to where, even now, Susan could recite the passages concerning the devil's love of flesh and the true meaning of the original sin every individual was inflicted with from the day of his or her birth.
Her ex-husband had tried to explain to his wife that her aunt was wrong, but the damage had been done by the time he had come into her life. No matter how logical he'd been, he couldn't crack through her aunt's teachings, which had seeped down into Susan's subconscious and the control of her basic emotions. The result had been that she'd never let anyone fuck her up to her wedding night, and if she'd had her way, she would have continued to be the same afterwards. Love was pure; sex for fun was dirty ... and the two could never be reconciled.
"Be careful, darling ... please be careful with me," she remembered pleading that first night. And John had been gentle and loving with her. But in the double bed with him, her eyes had filled with tears, and when he had finally touched her full young tits through the sheer transparency of her honeymoon nightgown, her whole body had shivered. She had shuddered almost convulsively as he'd slid the negligee from her and began caressing her full, rounded breasts, making the tips of her pink little nipples rise into erection in answer to his sensuous stimulation. She recalled how his strong, sure hands had slid over her nakedness in the dark of their bedroom, making the flesh of her huge young tits quiver with little goose bumps until his fingers teased swiftly and softly over the silky curling hairs of her pussy lips. His fingers had found their way to the tight, pink, wet split up between her softly clenching inner thighs, a place where no one except Susan herself had ever touched.
Now, looking at herself in the mirror, the young teacher fought to erase the memories which haunted her, but without success. The painful recollections of her betrayal of her ex-husband were too vividly seared in her mind to ever be forgotten. She trailed her eyes down over her tits and cunt where John's hands had traveled that night and subsequent nights, and she remembered the unwanted pussy-flaring sensations he had caused to ripple through her naked loins. Her aunt's warnings about tiny, devil-driven shocks of pleasure had been too strong for her to overcome, and she'd lain frozen in fear that there was something wrong with her because her nipples were throbbing and her pussy was flooding with the desire to be fucked. And when her lawful husband had lowered his strong, muscular body between her unwilling thighs and probed the defenselessly cringing virginity of her cunt with his thickly throbbing cock, the young redhead had been more terrified of the ever-present image of her domineering, unapproving Victorian aunt than the pain of having her cherry fucked away.
His massive young cock head had buffeted lightly against her hymen, easing its way into the unfucked warmth of her soft, pink cunt walls until she'd been able to feel the tight little membrane of her virginity pop wide to the burning tip of his long thick hardness. There had been some pain when he had first fucked up into her, she recalled, but not like any pain she'd ever known before; it had been warm and more fulfilling than frightening, and she had involuntarily gasped with delight as she had felt the full length of his heavily throbbing cock fuck hard up into her tightly gripping cunt hole. But with the help of her aunt's religious warnings, she had been able to fight away even the tiniest bit of lewd sexual excitement from her senses and had endured her new husband's lustful fucking of her nakedly spread body with hundreds of puritanical quotes her young mind had been filled with over the years. She had recited them silently as he had touched her, her eyes squeezed shut and her lips bared back over her tightly clenched teeth, praying she wouldn't weaken and give in to the latent desires welling up in her cunt below.
John's breathing had become sudden gasps of orgasm and she recalled now the contradicting emotions that had flooded her mind as his cock had exploded up inside her and filled her belly with great spurts of his hot, white cum. That was the only reason for allowing a man to fuck her and shoot his cum into her ... for the children, she'd told herself over and over. Yet somewhere in the back recesses of her mind, excited nerve endings had lewdly reveled in the hotly spewing warmth of his cum as it had caressed the smoothly rippling walls of her tightly contracting pussy. That sudden uncontrollable spasm of delight had scared her breathless, and she had redoubled her promises to resist the slightest sign of sexual pleasure for fear of becoming no better than a sluttish whore who loved to spread her legs and be fucked.
The next few nights had been even worse no matter what John had done. Her inability to rid herself of her aunt's puritanical image and actively enjoy his cock fucking up inside her had made her stiff and rejecting until she was almost driven mad with guilt by his panting and thrusting and the surging spasms of cum he emptied inside her. Susan's guilt about her first fuck from her husband and her aunt's constant advice from the past had even made discussion of their problems impossible. The months passed in hellish agony for her and she had lain awake at night, listening to John toss and turn in his frustrated attempt to make himself comfortable in a bed that had a thousand miles of space between them. Even during the day, life had become almost unbearable for both of them: for John, because his wife's apparent revulsion to his fucking her made him feel sexually inadequate for the first time in his life; and for Susan, because her own fears and frigidity had made her hostile not only to her husband, but to herself. Eventually, her consistent denial of sexual pleasure had reached the point of no return. Over breakfast, John had curtly and coldly said: "I want a divorce, you cold-cunted little bitch. Let me free so I can find a real woman to fuck away my frustrations on."
Tears began to blur her eyes as Susan remembered that horrid morning, and she stood before her naked reflection and fought to erase the memories, but without success. Thinking of one recollection only made all of her nights with John that much more vivid in her imagination until she could almost see herself lying in bed once more with him. Unwillingly, she recalled the exciting sensations of his fingers squeezing her hotly tingling tits, and her mind kept torturing her with the memories of how good, in spite of her guilty feelings, it had felt when he'd fucked his rock-hard cock up into her wide-split cunt and emptied his hotly boiling cum into her secretly sucking pussy well. Following her gaze in the mirror now, the voluptuous young teacher watched as her own hands slowly rose from where they'd been clenched tightly at her hips and began sliding softly over the smoothly swelling flesh of her huge white tits. She cupped them lightly as her husband had done before, her fingers seeking out the two tiny sensitive nipples and gently pinching them to hardness. Her mind was filled with the lurid remembrances of the cunt-bursting cums she had so thoroughly denied herself, and she could feel a smoldering little cunt-tickling sensation begin to ripple through the soft folds of her involuntarily juicing pussy lips. She recognized what was happening to her, knew that she was starting to submit to the only form of cumming she had ever been able to allow herself to enjoy. As a little girl, prior to when the boys her age had developed sexually, and long before her aunt had poisoned her mind to the joys of her body, Susan had experienced the delightful sensation of finger-fucking her pussy to cumming.
Her aunt had never mentioned the lewd practice of self-stimulation, and Susan secretly suspected her of doing it herself. But that had no bearing on the delicious sensations that she had learned to secrete from her own flesh, and often as a budding girl and even later as a young woman, she had locked herself in her room, stripped naked, lay back on the bed with her legs spread wide and finger-fucked her cunt to spiraling climaxes. Alone, without the hindering presence of a man lying between her legs, and his cock in her pussy, she could find satisfaction from the ever-present hungers which would well up in her loins until she was almost crazy with the desire to cum. Then, by herself, knowing that she could safely let herself drift into the wonderful, world of sexual fantasy without guilt or revulsion, she could dream of anything she wanted to ... anything at all, no matter how erotic and lascivious the images were ... and now she smiled softly to herself and let herself imagine that her fingers were her ex-husband's, and he was finger-fucking her to those wonderful cunt-spasming feelings of orgasm. Yes ... oh, God, yes ... she could dreamily allow herself to be fucked by a man in a thousand delirious different ways ... yes....
The young teacher sighed softly as she watched her hands slide down from her throbbingly aroused tits and over her long, slender waist to lightly slip into the hotly curling warmth of her coppery red pussy hairs. She shivered delightedly, feeling the tingling caresses as she worked her fingers through the soft, silky pussy curls in search of the flushed-pink hole of her eagerly pulsing cunt.
"Aaahhh," she moaned and she stepped back away from the erotic reflection of herself with her fingers in her cunt, picked up a small hand mirror from the dresser with her other hand and lay on her back atop the bed. She spread out her legs, splaying her thighs wide, and held the mirror down between them to watch so she could enjoy more of her tantalizing finger-fucking of her hot little pussy hole. Her own heavy breathing was nothing like a man's harsh panting, but soft and gentle like the fingers she was sluicing sensually in and out between the hungrily quivering lips of her flushed pink cunt slit. Again and again she mewled in rapidly building passion as her cum-slickened fingers fucked faster and deeper into the moistening flesh of her desire-flared cunt and over and around the hot little titty of her clitoris. Oh Goddd ... this is so obscene, so cunt-filling ... and in her mind, she could visualize her ex-husband's rigid cock again as he stood naked over her, ready to fuck her. It's so big, she thought luridly ... so very thick and big and hard....
The young redheaded teacher scissored her legs open until her feet dangled out on either side of the wide bed, and she could feel the warm air of the bedroom waft sensuously against the nakedly exposed slit of her vagina. She drew her throbbing, pink-fleshed pussy lips further open with the fingertips of one hand so she could peer up inside her open little cunt hole with the mirror.
"Ooooh Lord, I wish he was here to fuck my hot cunt!" she moaned aloud, shivering in obscene delight as she dreamed about her ex-husband's cock fucking her instead of her own fingers ... but still his cock was too large! Too much of a man's! Then slowly, as her middle finger wormed itself deeper up into the softly yielding flesh of her pussy, Susan's hotly aroused mind began to change die lewd vision in her head, altering it into a new, more erotic dream, whose very depravity stimulated her even more. Now in her mind, her ex-husband's cock was becoming smaller ... more slender ... safer ... until she could see his stiffened thrustings up between her warmly welcoming thighs were with an erection the size of a young teenage boy's desire-hardened cock! Jesus! In the mirror she was holding between her legs her finger, all slicky with her pussy juices, even looked like a little boy's dick!
God! To dream of being fucked and creamed into by a young boy! How wicked of her! And yet she had been dwelling on just such a lurid thought more and more since last month and the beginning of the school year. The image of John, her own fully mature ex-husband, turning into a young adolescent boy had become increasingly frequent while she'd been finger-fucking her pussy, and God! It never failed to drive her right out of her mind! This way she could really give her nakedly spread cunt to a male, truly surrender her passions, for no longer did she have to fear a huge, giant hardness ripping her belly open, splitting her pussy unbearably wide. Ahhh ... with a groan of lascivious desire, she sank her middle finger deeply up to the palm of her hand into the hungrily sucking little mouth of her cunt. She was a woman twice the age of her dream lover, but God, she could shut her eyes and clearly see that handsome, naked cocked youth. And oooh, it was so exciting to her ...!
His taut, fiat belly and hairless loins quivered expectantly as he climbed on top of her nakedly spread-eagled body. Yes, yes, and now his slender young cock was pressing against her eagerly awaiting little pussy hole and she was not afraid of him to fuck her. Yes, ohh, yes, he was so innocent and naive, his undeveloped muscles straining from his new-found sexual prowess. Ohhh, and now he was fucking his young, virile prick just up inside the painfully straining lips of her cunt. Yes, she could see herself hungry for a boy like him, her inner thighs and sensuously grinding ass cheeks urging him on as he fucked his hardened young cock deeper inside her slipperily engulfing cunt She was seducing him, teaching him step by step all the things her ex-husband had taught her during their short marriage....
The fire burned more intensely, demanding more to feed its lewd hunger. She inserted another finger, drawing her knees up to flatten her huge white tits, with her ass cheeks curved nakedly up off the bed so she could see her finger-filled cunt better in the mirror. But instead of her finger, her imagination could see the young boy fucking into her with his immature desire, and she crammed her fingers into the moistness of her pussy in time to the maddening rhythm of the couple mentally fucking in her mind. God, how lewd! An innocent young boy fucking a thirty-year-old woman! How utterly depraved! But ohhh! This was the wildest, most cunt-flooding thought she had ever had!
She could almost feel the boy fall flat upon her nakedly welcoming body, pressing her huge tits flat and crushing the breath within her as his hard young cock soared up into her eagerly waiting cunt. "Yes, darling sweet little John! Fuck me ... fuck me...." The moving picture in her mind of their nakedly locked cock and cunt drove her on, and she rocked against her fingers, fucking them deeper up between her open thighs. She could mentally imagine his slenderly glistening cock pumping maddeningly into her own warmly clasping cunt, sinking through her soft red pussy hairs in his sudden bursts of adolescent energy. Her fingers became his smaller fleshy male hardness, and oh God how she wanted it! How she wanted the real thing. Now! She instinctively knew in her wild throes of released passion that a tender young boy wouldn't make her rigid with fear and loathing, and she could be fucked by him to her heart's content. Oh, how she wished a younger John was here, fucking his own cum-filled prick deep up into her hotly searing pussy. The fingers weren't enough as her thoughts centered on the slender young cock shaft that was ravishing her mentally. She had to have more, but there was nothing, nothing but her fingers.
They were going to cum, the little boy and the older woman he was fucking in her mind ... She felt herself go taut, her eyes clenched tightly shut with her almost insane arousal, her cunt clenching around his youthfully lunging penis like warm fleshy lips around a child's all-day sucker. "You're going to make me cum ... my precious darling boy. Ohhh, cum in me with your fresh young sperm ... Ooohh, I want to feel you cum inside me while I cum toooo!"
In desperation, the hotly masturbating teacher dropped the mirror to the bed and reached behind her nakedly jerking ass cheeks with her other hand, searching the passion-moistened crevice, and then rammed a finger deep up into the tightly puckered little asshole between her moon-shaped buttocks. She gasped as in her haste a fingernail dug into the soft fleshy walls, sending a sharp jolt of pain through her helplessly quivering body. She stilled for a moment and then took up the rhythm of her self-stimulated fucking, her huge white tits jiggling sensuously as they swayed above her rapidly heaving chest. Electric , tingles of darting pleasure raced through her nerves as she pictured herself under her dream lover's pounding teenaged body with his slim, hard cock jerking like a jackhammer up between her widespread thighs. Her face colored crimson as she felt the cum rising within her, rushing through her with a great roar-she hung for a moment teetering on the edge of release, her whole naked body vibrating. "I'm cumming now!" she could hear a high-pitched boy's voice cry out in her mind. And then the white-hot juices of her own orgasm gushed out from around her hotly fucking fingers, covering her finger that was sunk far up into her hungrily devouring asshole and frowning down around it onto the mattress below. She could hear herself screaming with a piercing cry of joy ... then she grunted aloud and there was utter silence.
The still hotly cumming redheaded teacher stayed the way she was, with her fingers fucked deep up inside her cunt and asshole. She couldn't bring herself to withdraw her fingers until the last dying throbs had stilled in her body. At last her fingers slithered wetly from her liquid-drenched pussy and anus, and she rolled limply over on her side. God, she had never felt so utterly drained in her life. She had truly been possessed by her lewd fantasies, thoroughly driven to new heights of obscene finger-fucking desire. But fantasy was one thing and reality another ... wasn't it?
The older woman sighed and rose naked from her bed, her ivory-toned flesh gleaming wetly from the thin film of perspiration that had accompanied her fingering her cunt and asshole to cumming. She felt vaguely frustrated for some unexplainable reason, as if she was upset by the mere passing consideration that she could ever sink so low as to actually act out her dream. Imagining a young boy fucking her was a private little wickedness that didn't hurt a soul; to actually let a kid fuck her mature cunt with his tender young cock would be the most depraved act in the world! She could never really do that to one of her students!
Susan Mayer suddenly shivered, pausing in her barefoot walk to the bathroom and a refreshing cleansing shower.
Let one of her students fuck her!
What in God's name had brought that to her mind? When she was thinking of a young boy while fingerfucking her shamelessly cumming pussy, he was her ex-husband as a teenager, not ... not a boy from her junior high school class! What a silly notion!
But somehow, that slight sense of uneasiness wouldn't leave her, even as she dressed after her shower and left for Abraham Lincoln Junior High. It was as though her erotic fantasies about young, clean-shaven boy cocks were so salacious that, as she continually dreamed of them, they grew increasingly strong and exciting in her mind. And perhaps just a little too tempting for her own good! She would just have to watch herself and make certain that she never put herself in a position to strip her panties off for one of the boys. That wild, cunt-bursting cum she had just finger-fucked herself to while thinking about a youthful kid fucking her was proof enough that her treacherous little pussy couldn't be trusted under any circumstances!!!
Susan loved her position as a nature-study teacher at school. She had always liked the great outdoors and the frequent field trips her department head assigned her to more than satisfied that need. She would take the young students out into the woods, sometimes singly, sometimes in small groups, to identify the various forms of plant life native to that particular area of Maine. This arrangement suited her perfectly, as it meant she did not have to spend much time in a stuffy classroom like most of her contemporaries.
The pay could have been better, she often thought. But then, she had the free use of the new school car for her nature trips, and didn't even have to buy her own insurance for it, and she didn't have any debts of her own to worry about. Living alone and not being the type to want to "go out" much, she was able to make ends meet quite well, with enough left over for an occasional movie or inexpensive restaurant dinner. And the best part about it was that she loved her work. All in all, she was rather pleased with how things had been working out for her, and certainly the job itself was a pleasure.
Old Orchard Beach, the higher-income commuter communtly for nearby Portland, was overrun with teenagers who would go on to the better universities like Harvard, Yale and Stanford, and her course was required for admission to them. There would always be a continual turnover of new students and fresh faces each term, and as long as she performed well and taught them what was needed, her job was secure.
But the thing she still liked most about teaching nature study was her independence and the fact that she didn't have to stay cooped up in the school all the time. Several days a week were spent in the classroom, where she would go over the material so that her pupils could identify the various trees and plants. But on all the other days, she had those group field-study trips where she would take three or four students out in the woods for practical work in collecting specimens. Fridays were her favorite days, because unlike the other four, she didn't have a schedule to follow. Normally she worked five of the seven hour-long periods a day, but Friday was set aside for individual training, which was taken on a voluntary basis. A student with problems could give up his "study hall" and devote his time to nature study, and Susan found immense satisfaction in helping some of the slower but earnest students in this fashion. And usually, she only had three or so pupils to deal with, spread out over the whole day. It was ideal!
And today was Friday!