Chapter 7
The next morning, when she awoke, she was very disturbed. The liquor, as well as the sleeping pills hadn't done her a bit of good. Now, Marilee Stevens knew something had to be done. She decided that she would do the noble thing and find a young high school girl for Alan. This would not be easy, she knew, but she determined that she must do it. She went back to school that day, and dressed very modestly. Apparently, she reasoned, she was quite a sexy woman. Having turned on the principal; the man at the liquor store, who undoubtedly saw a lot of women come in his place, as well as her student Alan, she knew she had a lot going for her.
As she entered the school room, Alan moved toward her.
"Hey, teach, I heard you were sick."
"Well, Alan, I was sick. I'm much better now, thank you."
"I got something to talk to you about after school," he said, slyly glancing at her breasts, and down to her vagina.
"I can't imagine what about," she said nervously.
"Maybe I can give you a clue," he smiled, as his eyes swept down there again.
"I think I know pretty well now," she said, "Alan, did it ever occur to you, that it might not be the place to talk like this?"
Students were Milling all around the teacher and the boy in the hall, none of them paying any attention. Yet, she always had that nervous awful fear, that she would be discovered.
"Sorry about that teach," he said, "well, I hope you can see me this afternoon, after school for a minute."
"A minute," she said.
Marilee Stevens hurried on to her classes. When she got there, she began looking around the room, noticing that her bulletin boards looked terrible. Apparently, some of the pins that she had placed in them had been removed by the students. The students were forever throwing the pins around the room. And, she was very disgusted. It bothered her to think that they would do things like this. Yet, she didn't know what to do. She knew she was caught in a mess, and the only thing she could do was tell them to stop. If she went to the principal, or sent them to the vice principal, then she would be in trouble, for not being able to control her class. All of this, was disturbing and upsetting to her.
The opening bell rang, and the students came to attention: They rose, and took the pledge to the flag, and then the day proceeded.
"Class, she said, "Let's begin by discussing the news that is happening now."
"Like what?" one alert girl smiled, "you mean like what's happening here, on our own little party scene?"
"Joyce," the teacher said, "would you see me after school?"
"Why teach?"
"I don't care to discuss it now."
Suddenly, she noticed that the teacher was brushing her hair. And then, a student reminded her: "You're not supposed to brush your hair in class," the kid told her frankly.
She pulled her hand away from her hair, and realized that she had been doing something that was absurd. This annoyed her and bothered her. Was she slipping? Was she flipping?
"Sorry about that," she said nonchalantly. Then, she went to the blackboard, and said: "Let's discuss the most interesting things that are happening today in the newspaper."
"Well," one kid said, "did you read about this party that they had, where one guy got angry because another guy tried to make his wife?"
"No, I haven't read that yet," she said, "what about it?"
"Well, it was really a wild jig. I'll tell you about it. This guy, you see, had a nifty looking wife. You know, all sexy, and gorgeous. Well, they had a little party, and this stud got turned on. He made a pass for the guy's wife, and fire-works!"
"Children," she said, "that's a cliche."
"What's a cliche teach?"
"It says nothing," she said. "Fireworks doesn't say a thing. It is just an emotional thing, where you see an explosion of colors and flashes of lights."
"Alright," the boy said apologetically, "I won't use no cliche. He stabbed the stud seven-teen times, teach, and stuffed his body in a big plastic garbage sack, and took him out in his trunk and dumped him along a dirt road."
"That's a nice story to begin our day," she said, "can't you children think of anything nice?"
"Like the bombs we're dropping in Vietnam?" Joyce smiled. "I don't suppose I'd like to have . gotten the flue over there. You take a trip to the. hospital, and you get bombed out."
"That is not for us to discuss in class," the teacher said.
"Makes you think," Rodney said.
"Rodney," the teacher said, "there are things we don't think of in class."
"Well," Rodney complained, "I can't help thinking about the atom bomb."
"The atom bomb is one thing I don't care to think about," the teacher said.
Just then, the alarm sounded for the atom bomb drill. It struck all of the students as funny, that the teacher had said that she didn't want to think about the atom bomb, at the very moment she was forced to think about it by the sounding of the atom bomb bell drill.
Immediately, the students got out of their seats, and went to the side of the room, They put their hands over their heads and bent over. Now, with their eyes closed, the teacher was watching. The rules for the atom bomb drill insisted that the students face down, around the room should be kneeling. However, it distressed her to think of it. It would be such a terrible thing to have sex with a student, yet, it was a necessary thing to teach them all to be prepared for the final bomb blast.
Where had the morals gone? Where has reason vanished? Why is it?
"Alright students," the teacher smiled, "you've all done a. good job on your atom bomb drill. I gave you all a good report."
"You see," Rodney smiled, "You can't escape it, teach. The bomb is here, and it's here to stay. So you might as well face it. Well, I want you to know, that we are ready."
"Ready?" the teacher said.
"Sure," he replied, "did you know, teach, that the strategic air command has a bomb on each wing of their big planes and those planes circle the earth every twenty-four hours. As soon as one batch of planes take off with their bombs, another batch of planes resumes. We are ready to kill them all."
"Well," Joyce said, "I've heard they're ready to kill us too. They've got a big atomic fleet."
"So have we," Rodney said, "and those great big subs will come up, and shoot those bombs, blowie!"
"Students," the teacher complained, "this is not for us to discuss."
"Why not?" Henry smiled. "I want to know all I can about World War Three?"
"I don't know a thing about World War Three," the teacher assured him, "and I'm glad I don't."
"Well," Rodney said, "it's gonna be one big blast, I'm sure of that."
Saying this, the class broke into a raucous laughter. Everyone laughed and applauded.
"Can't you see it all now?" Joyce chuckled, "Russia, the United States, and China, all blown to hell and back, 'cause they couldn't get together and agree on anything."
"It's not funny," the teacher said, "and I don't want you talking this way in class."
"Well, you either laugh or cry, and I prefer to cry later and laugh now."
Well, children, this discussion must end."
The bell interrupted, and that was the end of the first class.
At this point, Marilee was distressed and disturbed. She didn't know what to do to keep the kids in line. She knew very well that discussions like this were getting no one anywhere. She was bothered, beyond belief, at the thought of what could happen if World War Three did emerge. Yet, her own private world was falling into pieces, and she was shattering. And, she thought to herself, no bomb did it. It was her own uncontrolled passions, her own unbalanced reasoning, her own selfishness.. However, as she thought about Joyce who was walking toward her now, she thought what a beautiful association this could be.
"Joyce," she said, "I would like to talk to you after school."
"About what, teach?" Joyce demanded sullenly.
"About a lot of things," the teacher said.
"Don't keep me in suspense, teach, I couldn't wait all day."
"I'm afraid, you'll have to," the teacher replied, "I have another class right now."
"Oh, that's too bad," Joyce said, "I'm sorry I upset you in class. I really am, and I promise I won't do it again. Word of honor!"
"It's not that, dear," the teacher smiled, "I have a little assignment for you, that I think you might be interested in."
The girl was amazed. Then, the idea hit her, that perhaps the interview wasn't going to be so bad. Maybe, the teacher did have something in mind, that was good.
"Alright, teach," she agreed. "I'll wait for you."
The day wheezed by, and when the afternoon classes were over, Alan came in first.
"You wanted to see me teach?" he smiled, almost inferring from the way he said it she wanted to see him stark naked.
"Yes," she said, "I did want to see you."
She realized she couldn't talk to him freely now. And again she reminded him: "I think I've had it arranged with you that you always speak with me outside of the class-room."
"Alright, teach, I'll call you at your place tonight."
"Thank you, Alan," she said, "please call."
"Don't you worry, I will."
At this point, the young boy was eager to get into her pants, but he had to wait. A moment later, Joyce walked in.
"Good afternoon, teach," she said, "how are you today?"
"Just fine Joyce, how are .you?"
"Fine," she replied.
Joyce looked at the teacher, and knew that the teacher had something to say, and she couldn't quite say it. However, she had no idea what a bomb the' teacher was going to let fall. A bomb that was more explosive, than the talk about the A-bomb had been during the bomb drill that day.
"Joyce," the teacher asked her, "I'm very curious to know something. I wonder if you would confide a few things about your personal life to me."
Joyce gulped, and pulled herself together, and looked at the teacher sullenly, tightening her lips: "What do you want to know "I want to know what you do with the boys?"
"Teacher, that's a very personal question," Joyce said.
"Maybe," she said, "it would be better if we discussed this in my apartment."
"Why your apartment?" Joyce said, wondering if it was some kind of a trap, or if the teacher was a horny les out for making her.
"Well, baby," the teacher said, "I have to have it there. People will hear at this place. However, it's very important. I want to do a book on sex among high school students."
"I could write my own book," Joyce laughed, "I guess I know what's happening. But, teach, if you gave my name, I'd be lost."
"Well, Joyce, dear, you don't have to worry about a thing. I don't want to give your name. But I do need a few facts. I wonder if you could drop over to my place, and talk with me, let's say around seven tonight."
"What would I say to my folks?" Joyce demanded.
"What do you usually say to your folks when you want to go out?" she laughed.
"Alright, teach," Joyce agreed.
Now, the deal was set Joyce would be over at seven, and when Alan. called she told him to be over at eight.
The teacher hustled about the house, making everything look nice and neat. She at least wanted to have things clean on the outside, even if it couldn't be clean on the inside.
"Oh, what a lot of work," she laughed, as she finished her job.
Now, she was determined to have everything done that she could. However, she was worried. She was worried about one thing. She didn't see how she could get by without eventually getting caught. Maybe one person wouldn't talk, but two, that made the odds greater.
"Well, teach., Joyce smiled, when she came in at seven, "I'm here."
"Yes, you are, and what a lovely outfit you're wearing."
"Do you like it teach?" she smiled, as she sat down, and the dress inched up towards her pussy.
"Yes," the teacher replied nervously, "but is it safe to wear a thing like that?"
"Why teach?"
"Well, your pussy might catch cold," she said.
"Well, she laughed, "my pussy's on fire teach, and it's not about to catch a cold."
"I can see that, Joyce," the teacher smiled.
"Now, dear, would you like something to drink?"
"Yes," Joyce replied, "scotch on the rocks."
"But Joyce, dear, you're only sixteen."
"I've been drinking scotch since I was eleven," Joyce said, "now damn it bring me a scotch."
"Actually, dear," she replied, "I hate to bring you hard liquor. It isn't right for a girl of your age to be sucking hard liquor."
"Who says it isn't?"
"Well," the teacher replied, "I guess nobody really drinks with children."
"I resent that," Joyce replied getting disgusted now. "I'm no child, teach, I'm a grown-up woman."
"Maybe you are. Alright I'll get you your scotch."
"What kind do you have?"
"Old Bryer," the teacher replied, "I hope that will do, dear."
"I guess it'll have to," Joyce said. Do you have any grass around here teach?"
"Joyce, Is there anything wrong that you don't do?"
"Yes," she said, "I've never made it with a woman."
The teacher couldn't reply. Joyce picked this up.
"Have you, teach?"
"Why no, Joyce dear, of course not. What kind of a woman do you think I am?"
"That's was why I was asking," Joyce said. "Now, dear, here's your drink."
The girl sipped her drink, and then started gulping.
"Not so fast, honey," the teacher said, "I can't afford your thirst."
"That's what my dad says," she said, "he gets real mad when I drink-up his scotch. Well, I promise not to drink more than one bottle."
"Joyce, are you a lush at sixteen?"
"What's a lush?" she asked.
"A lush is an alcoholic," the teacher said.
"Well why didn't you say so," Joyce said. "No, I'm no lush. I might be a little hooked on the weed, and I like to go on the heroin when it's available.
"I'm sure that's rather expensive," the teacher replied.
"Well why do you think I hustle," Joyce replied.
"You do hustle?" The teacher asked her.
"Sure, I do, how do you think I buy my fix?"
"I didn't know you had a fix?"
"A fix," Joyce laughed, "you should see my arm, teach. It looks like needlepoint."
"Let me see your arm, Joyce," the teacher insisted, now becoming dubious about exactly what type of a girl she had there.
Joyce revealed her arm, and the tattoo marks did look like needlepoint.
"If you had some blue and some green and white in there, you'd really have a pretty design." the teacher replied.
"Very funny," Joyce said, "well, when I'm coming off one of my trips, it isn't funny, teach. I really feel bad about this arm. But, that's why I've gotta have a little money. I'm about due for another fix now."
Joyce began gulping her drink.
"Well, get on with it, teach," she said, "you really wanted to put the make on me, confess, didn't you?"
"Of course not," she said.
"That's what all the lesbians say," Joyce laughed, "at first they say no, and they start naming prices."
"Well I'm not naming prices."
"Well I'm not jumping in bed with you unless you do," the girl said defiantly. "And I could get you in plenty of trouble with the principal for inviting me here to seduce me."
"I haven't laid a hand on you," the teacher said, "now stop it!"
"No," Joyce replied, "I won't suck you, I won't."
The teacher was furious. The girl apparently had her completely wrong.
"Joyce, I wanted you only to tell me some of your experiences."
"What kind, teach?"
"Well, about those orgies you go to."
"I'm not too proud of the orgies," Joyce replied, "you mean the gang-bang fucks."
"You mean you go to gang-bang fucks Joyce?"
"Well I've been known to," Joyce admitted slyly. "They're really awfully terrible things to go to."
"Tell me more about them," the teacher insisted.
"I'll take you along with me sometime," she said, "you can wear a wig so they won't recognize you. You've got a nice shape, and you're a young woman, they'd ball you."
"I'm sure they would, dear, but I really wouldn't care to have a gang-bang."
"You never know until you've tried," Joyce replied, "well, you see I had my problem. These big tits are a problem. They turn men on, and women too. So, I almost wish I could pull them in tighter in my bra. But, I soon learned that if I'd let them hang loose, and not wear a bra,-can you tell I'm not wearing a bra now, teach?"
"Aren't you wearing a bra, Joyce?"
Joyce immediately pulled off her sweater, and her huge tits flopped out.
"Why no, you aren't wearing a bra, and the things are standing straight up."
"You see why?" Joyce smiled proudly, "you see teach these tits are grown together. That flab of flesh right there pulls them together and hangs them up. Aren't they groovy?"
"Yes, Joyce, they really are. Nice round firm breasts."
"Feel 'em teach," Joyce insisted, "go ahead, I won't say you're a les if you feel of my tits. It's normal, don't worry."
"I wasn't worried about it being normal, or not," the teacher replied, "I just know if I cared to feel your tits."
"Well why not?" Joyce said angrily, "everybody else does, why shouldn't you?"
"I have nice knockers too," the teacher said, "don't think you're the only one who has pretty tits."
"Never said I was," Joyce said, "Let me see yours."
"Why?" the teacher said, "do you want to compare and contrast and then belittle mine?"
"No, teach, I won't knock your knockers," she smiled, "I just want to see them. Tits are all different, you know. It's not that I'm a lesbian, but I just enjoy looking at another woman's tits."
"Of course you're not a lesbian, Joyce, you're too young."
"Never too young to go down," Joyce smiled, "and I've eaten a few snatches in my time. But, of course, I am not les, or acey/decy."
"No, of course not," the teacher said, as she began removing her blouse.
As the teachers breasts flipped out, the girl smiled.
"They're not as big as mine; are they?" the girl eyed her delightedly.
"Well, size isn't everything," the teacher said.
"No, that's what you think," Joyce laughed, "the men who make it with me, are always telling me I've got the biggest, tightest, the juiciest tits in town."
"Maybe you have."
"Only one way you're going to find out, suck on them," Joyce begged the teacher.
"Why Joyce," the teacher replied, "I'm not going to suck on your tits, what kind of a person do you think I am?"
"I have a pretty good hunch," Joyce said, "Now lick, lick to your delight."
"But what if it isn't to my delight to lick?" the teacher replied, "really, I'm not horny for you honey."
"Oh yes you are," Joyce said, "everybody is. Lick these tits," she said cupping her breasts with her hands.
As she held her huge breasts out, the teacher looked at the nipples, erect and eager obviously.
"Alright, Joyce if you want me to suck on your tits, I'll do it, but don't call me a les just because I lick your breasts."
"Sure not, teach, Oh yes, I love your tongue on them."
The teacher's tongue licked around the juicy nipples, and Joyce thought she would slip out. As the teacher studied the breasts at close range, she did observe that there was some flesh that went over, and supported the other one. It was as if they had burst out, and grown together. And when they had grown together, the arch of flesh supported them, like a natural bra-bridge. Suddenly, the teacher did find herself enjoying them. Joyce could tell this, and she ran her fingers through the teachers hair.
"Suck on Joyce's breasts, suck on Joyce's breasts. Doesn't that feel good? She sang in a nursery rhyme type sing-a-ling.
It surprised the teacher, to hear her pupil singing like that. It was like a mother, singing a little nursery rhyme to her baby who was sucking her breasts.
"I guess its my maternal instinct that makes me want to sing like that," Joyce smiled, as the teacher pulled her mouth off her nipple.
"Now, Joyce, you might as well suck mine too," the teacher suggested.
"Oh sure, honey, I love to suck tits. Not that I'm a lesbian, mind you, I just like to suck tits."
"Of course, dear," the teacher said, now becoming horny at the thought of the girl licking her tits.
The student leaned over, and she started licking the teacher's tits. Joyce loved to this, because it demonstrated her willingness to do everything. She didn't want to be inhibited. She wanted to be free, and when she would lick suck anything that her Heart desired, without worrying about categories or tags, she enjoyed it.
"Oh Joyce, honey, that feels so good," the teacher replied, quite fearful that she might be falling for the girl.
Now, Marilee Stevens was truly frustrated. Here she had invited Joyce, a school sex pot, to have sex with Alan. She had hoped that this would get Alan off her back, so to speak, of ' course she means pussy and mouth, and anus. However, it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to consider this, when she was enjoying the girl so much herself. She hoped, that by the time Alan showed up, she would have finished making love with the girl, so she could offer Joyce, in a noble way to the other student who needed sex so much.
"Oh, teach what we couldn't do on a bed," Joyce suggested, "Oh, yes, teach, licking each others cunt is so much fun. I love to suck a juicy cunt."
"Joyce baby, if you want to, we can do it."
Together, Joyce and the teacher went into the bedroom, and they practically pulled each others clothes off.
"Mind you, it's not that I'm a lesbian," Joyce said, holding up her hand as she stood there in the bedroom stark naked : "I just like a hot cunt suck. What difference does it make whose tongue it is?"
"Oh, Joyce, you're so beautiful. You shaved your pussy. I've seen women who have shaved them, and your slit is so lovely."
"Oh, every girl is shaving her cunt now days," Joyce said, "It's all the rage at school."
"Is that right?" the teacher said.
"Oh yes, the girls believe in shaved boxes." Joyce smiled, "don't you think my shaved box looks pretty?"
"Yes baby, I sure do."
The teacher went over, and let her fingers slide along the girls slit.
"It feels so good teach, when you do that," she smiled, "when you do that to me, I just want to love you."
Joyce gripped the teacher, and she pressed her lips against her mouth. Now, no matter what she would say about not having lesbian tendencies, the teacher knew full well she was indeed going this way.
"Oh, teach, you're so beautiful, I've seen you there and wished I could suck you, and fuck you."
"You flatter me Joyce," the teacher smiled, "I, I don't think I should anything with you though."
"Why not?" Joyce said, "you invited me over, and you're going to give me some money so I can get my fix, aren't you?"
"How much?" the teacher said.
"Fifty bucks," Joyce said just like that.
"Fifty bucks," the teacher said, "for you eating my pussy?"
"You don't know how good I am at it," the girl replied, "I really am good."
"Well you better be, to charge fifty bucks for a cunt suck."
"Don't say a cunt suck," Joyce replied, "that sounds too harsh."
"What should I say?" the teacher asked her. "I want you to say pussy suck," the girl replied. "That doesn't sound crude."
"And the other does?"
"Oh yes, terribly crude," she replied.
"Alright," the teacher said, "I won't say one word, to upset you. Could you tell me why I should pay fifty bucks for your pussy suck?"
"Because like I told you, I need my fix."
"Give me another reason," the teacher suggested.
"Well," she said, "I could always turn you in for molesting me. I've threatened other teachers in the school. I won't mention names, because they paid off."
"You're a nice girl Joyce," the teacher replied, "and I suppose you'll come back for more money now and then."
"Oh no, I'm not like that," she said, "I would never think of blackmail. It's just that I want fifty bucks."
"Joyce, I'll make a deal with you," the teacher said, "Listen!"
"Now comes the proposition," Joyce said, "I'm all ears, I've heard them all. What do I have to suck this time?"
"No," the teacher explained, "it isn't any unusual part of my anatomy that you must lick or suck, it's something far different."
"How far different?" she said, "do I have to wear male boots and put on a black leather jacket and ride a motorcycle?"
"No, you don't have to do that," teacher assured her, "however, there is one thing I wish you would do."
"Name it, teacher, hurry up, the suspense is killing me."
"Alright, Joyce, I'll name it. There is a young man, and then the girl interrupted. "Yes, I know that," Joyce giggled, "there was a young man from Nantucket whose cock was so long he could suck it."
Joyce laughed, and the teacher did to.
"That's very funny," the teacher said, "but it wasn't that. It was this, I have a student who's awfully horny, who's hot for me. And, he needs to get a balling now and then. I thought perhaps you could service him. You'd enjoy him."
"Who is he?"
"Alan, you know him."
"Oh, yes, that real shy guy. Oh I'd like to ball with him, and I'd like to suck his cock off too, and I'll eat his ass out, but I have to eat your pussy too for fifty bucks?"
"Yes," the teacher said evenly.
"You drive a, hard bargain, teach," the girl replied. "But I'll do it. That means ass, and pussy, and fucking."
"Yes, Joyce," the teacher said wrapping her arms around the young girl, and letting her hands sweep down to her breasts as she pulled her body to her.
"Well, baby," the teacher smiled, "we will do it, and we will enjoy it too."
They got together now, and they were indeed enjoying themselves. It was a marvelous moment for the two of them, as their bodies met. The teacher and the girl, were turning with each other, and it was a beautiful moment.
"Oh, Joyce, you are really something. Those tits pressing against mine are too much. What size are you?"
"Thirty-eight," Joyce replied, "what size are your knockers?"
"Thirty-six," the teacher said sadly.
"Now don't you get a complex about being two inches smaller," Joyce replied, "Old mom nature doesn't believe in equality."
I guess not," the teacher smiled, "but, these aren't bad, and you like licking them."
"I know I will," Joyce replied, "Let's get over to the bed."
They went over to the bed, and as they lay there, Joyce began kissing the teacher passionately.
"Oh, teach, this is so much fun."
"I wish I had a dildo," the teacher smiled. "You've used one of those things?"
"Oh, yes, I have," Joyce replied. "Some women I work for when I'm getting my money for my fix, have them and insist I wear them."
"How nice," she said, "I see you've had a real sex education."
"I sure have," Joyce said, "a girl who is sixteen these days knows what a woman thirty-six used to know yesterday."
"Or may never know," the teacher replied, "back in those days, women didn't make it with each other, and men weren't half as horny.
"Oh, that's what you think." Joyce said, "People were just as wild and wacky sexually yesterday as they are today."
"I don't know about that," the teacher insisted, "actually, dear, if a student was on grass and took fixes, and would fuck at marathon orgies, she might be looked upon as quite off beat"
"I know," Joyce replied, "that might be true. Perhaps the reason I'm normal now, is because so many kids are on dope. Isn't it wonderful, I'm not abnormal just because I take grass and love women and go to orgies."
"You're nice and normal," the teacher said, "now go down on me and eat my cunt."
"I told you not to say cunt," Joyce reminded her, "It's too crude, dear-say pussy, please!"
"Suck my pussy please," the teacher smiled.
"We aim to please," Joyce smiled as she went down there and crouched at the teacher's crotch.