Chapter 5
Darla stood in the shower room after class Monday, nervousness and anticipation blurring in her mind. The sound of her students' laughter and chatter merged with the rattle of the showers. Before her were short and tall girls, slim and plump, with gauzelike muffs, bushy triangles, slender plumes and curly thickets of blond, auburn, chestnut, copper and black hair. The spray of the water flowed over full globes, subtle cones, wide domes, delicate cups and gentle rises; hard-nubbed nipples, inverted puckers, long pegs and fat little rises with dimpled tips; pink, tan and orange areoles, some of which were nearly invisible, some spread wide while others were but rims to their nipples, some contoured with goose bumps and some that rose like second, smaller breasts. Before her was a kaleidoscope of feminine beauty, of laughing faces, but they seemed to focus into a single image, a single girl who was now waiting in the pool for after-class tutoring: Gillian.
Soon, the showers would be silent, the sweet young bodies pinkly dried, tits dancing into bras and she would be alone in the room. She rubbed her palms over her face, wondering at her own actions.
Wearing a white bikini that showed off her tan by contrast and her body by its slightness, Gillian leisurely backstroked up the pool. Looking up through the skylight, she could see the sky darkening with a gathering storm, thunder rumbling through the room and shrinking the frosted glass. Soon her classmates would be gone and she would be alone with Darla, alone in her arms to make love.
The change room grew silent and she heard the outside door lock. Breathing deeply with expectation, Gillian trod water and unfastened her top. She smiled eagerly, neither pretense nor concealment necessary any longer.
The lights went out one by one along the ceiling and the only illumination came through the skylight. Lightning seared across the stormy sky. Gillian tossed the bikini top to the far side of the pool, her breasts rising pink and naked from the water, her nipples bright. Thunder rumbled through the building. Feeling her heart pounding, her cunny pulsing, Gillian unfastened her bottoms and tossed them after the top.
The door to the shower and change rooms slowly opened and Darla stood silhouetted for a moment before they eased shut. Gillian watched her approach, her lips parting as she saw that Darla no longer wore her swimsuit, but rather a near transparent, full length nightgown. Her nipples and her bush were dark shadows under the drifting fabric. Lightning flashed brightly above, revealing the women more clearly to one another for a moment in a burst of silver light, the blur of Gillian's torso and legs beneath the water, the veiled opulence of Darla's statuesque body beneath the gown.
The peal of thunder faded into the distance and the only sounds Gillian could hear were of her own breathing and of the gentle lap of the water against her buoyed breasts. The two women stared at one another, the reflected light off the pool weaving patterns over them and the walls. Gillian moistened her lips, her body hot despite the coolness of the water. Lightning flashed again and she saw Darla's long legs, her dark muff and the big globes of her breasts beneath the fragile cloth of the gown.
Darla reached back and touched a wall switch, turning the pool lights on. Gillian glanced down, seeing the pool become clear, her legs clearly visible beneath her, creating a momentary illusion that she was floating in space. The pool seemed to glow in the otherwise dark room, Darla a pale shadow by one wall. Thunderclaps echoed through the room, the skylight dancing with streaks of lightning. Darla moved to the pool's edge and went to one knee.
Gillian watched Darla reach down to lift a cupped handful of water, the pool lights shimmering up through the water to give her face an angelic aura, her loosened hair shining like a raven's wing. Darla lifted her hand to moisten her lips, her eyes on the girl's and then let the water slowly drip down upon one of her voluptuous breasts. As each drop fell they were absorbed by the cloth, causing the gown to gradually become fully transparent, adhering to her like a second skin upon her one breast, flesh and nipple fully revealed as if the cloth had dissolved.
Fascinated, Gillian watched Darla's hand finally open and extend back out over the water. The one breast seemed more beautifully naked than it could possibly be any other way. Darla's hand turned and beckoned. Gillian swam toward her and Darla held out both hands, taking the girl's in hers to help her up from the water, Gillian bracing one foot on the rim of the pool. They stood face to face, the thunder silent for a moment, their hands joined, the one woman dressed from throat to feet in a diaphanous gown that seemed to merge with, rather than simply reveal, one breast, the younger woman totally naked with the light gleaming on her wet flesh, water sliding down over the contours of her body in lazy rivulets, dripping from the slickened fur of her cunny. Darla drew her forward until their bodies pressed close, their breasts heaving with their arousal against one another, their lips parted and then touching.
Her eyes intense, Darla's hands moved forward and Gillian unsteadily stepped back. The imprint of the girl's wet body upon the gown clung to Gillian's flesh in a transparency that revealed both big globes with their golden tan nipples, the firm contours of her belly and her thighs. Darla raised Gillian's hands and placed them palms down between her collar bones and the richness of her tits, the cloth like tissue beneath and then let her own hands fall to her sides.
Gillian swallowed, feeling Darla's flesh hot against her palms. Lightning seared across the sky, the room filled with its crackling. Gillian's fingers curled into the cloth, clutching it in her palms. The thunderstorm roared outside. Gillian's hands pulled down and out, shredding the fabric away from the big breasts, the slender waist, the dark curled muff, the long legs and the luxuriant ass.
Darla's golden eyes suddenly widened, shining with the lightning and her arms went around Gillian in an impassioned embrace, their mouths writhing together around the furlings of their tongues. They leaned toward the pool, their feet pushing out against the flooring and their joined bodies fell through the air, red and ebony hair floating and they crashed through the surface.
They floated down into the lighted water, the remnants of the gown floating away as their legs entwined, dark coils and auburn fur blending around the heat of their pink furrows. They turned in graceful arcs, hands flowing over each other's ass, cupping each other's tits. The pool lights flickered as a result of the storm, dimming until they drifted in darkness suddenly shattered by the quicksilver illumination of lightning. They moaned into one another's mouths, clinging to one another, their lungs straining. The lights came back on, abruptly exposing the undulations of their fused cunts, the caressing weaving of their legs, the kneading splay of their hands upon each other's lush ass cheeks, the gliding drift of their hair. Then darkness again, two alabaster mermaids locked in rapture within a pool of ebony.
Their mouths wide, gasping for air, they broke the surface in a spray of water and the lights came back on as if thrusting them upward. Bodies arched back from the hot grafting of their throbbing loins, Darla's big globes thrust up high on her chest, the firm peaches of Gillian's breasts bobbing. Gold and green eyes opened wide as their flesh sang with their own storm, a storm of ecstasy that sent lightning through them, blood thundering in their ears. The fights flashed off and on beneath them. Gillian cried out. The skylight flashed with the storm above them. Darla cried out. The room echoed with their cries of rapture. Gillian and Darla came, churning the waters, shaking with their joy, their wet bodies gleaming with fight.
Slowly, they floated down into the pool, air bubbling from their lips, their eyes glazed. Eventually, they came up from the sleeplike darkness of the water and collapsed together beside the pool on a stack of tumbling pads.
Darla's long hair slid in wet strands over Gillian's belly and her lips touched the dampness of her pubic fur as she sucked at the wet muff, drinking down the wetness before tonguing the misty cleft of the girl's slit. Gillian moaned and her hands slid over the globes of her teacher's tits, gripping at the golden pegs. Darla's tongue slithered down into the musky sweetness of Gillian's cunny, her lips and cheeks pressing the humid sleekness. Lightning highlighted their gleaming bodies as they turned and rolled, Gillian's hungry mouth finding the wet coils of Darla's bush, her face washing itself in the soft moistness, her hands caressing the uptilted cushions of Darla's fanny, gripping the long and shapely legs, clutching the full hips as the woman's tongue burnished her quivering clit.
Rain beat at the skylight in waves, creating an echoing thunder that hummed through the room. Gillian licked and sucked the pulsing ring box of Darla's sex, gasping into it with her own arousal. The crackle of electricity underscored the roars of thunder. Darla caressed Gillian's lush ass and pushed up her sides to encase the pliant roundness of her tits, rubbing at the pink nipples with the base of her thumbs. The clouds churned, crisscrossed with lightning, but through the rain-smeared skylight they blurred into a surging mass of fight and dark, a black and white film of a volcano erupting. Darla and Gillian's legs thrashed, their bodies twisting and straining with the exquisite raptures they created with their voracious supping. The pool flashed with brightness. Flesh damp from the water and from straining, washed together as hands gripped breasts and buttocks. Their bellies pressed in tight undulations, their breasts stroking one another's hips and their lips pulled back as their mouths moved in a frantic, carnal hunger.
Darla screamed into Gillian's cunt, her body bucking as her excitement reached a crescendo. The lightning stabbed across the sky, the thunder erupting in shattering blasts. Gillian's moan became a cry against the blazing pearl of Darla's clit, her mind flashing, her body stuttering against Darla's as their orgasms heightened each other's in turn, ricocheting to a climax that flung them limply back onto the mats, gasping.
The thunder rumbled and the rattle of the rain against the skylight became more regular. They rolled over onto their sides and into each other's arms, their still tingling flesh pressed tight as their lips touched in satiated smiles, their half-lidded eyes shimmering.
"Going to be hard remembering I'm supposed to be your teacher," Darla smiled softly, touching her fingertips to Gillian's breast.
"It may be easier for me to remember that I'm your student," Gillian replied in a whisper, stroking the woman's dark hair back from her temple.
"No more than I'm your student, darling," Darla assured her and kissed her gently.
"Yeah," Gillian smiled. "Well, which lesson shall we teach each other next?"
"Let's surprise one another," Darla grinned and they began to find new ways to share pleasure.
Knowing Don was at baseball practice and hoping to find either or both of the sisters at home, Fred rang the Stanford doorbell, carrying a towel-wrapped swimsuit as an excuse for visiting if either Jill or Larry was there. A moment later, the door opened and Jill stood before him, dressed in a dark print skirt and a cobalt blue blouse that was tied beneath her breasts, the firm curve of her belly catching his eye for a moment.
"Oh, hi, Mrs. Stanford," he smiled, suppressing his disappointment. "Uh, I came over to see if Don wanted to swim."
"I'm sorry, Fred, but he's at practice," Jill smiled, remembering watching him float in the pool the day before. "Just old mama at home, but you can use the pool if you want."
"Uh ... " he hesitated, suddenly ceasing to think of her only as Don and the sisters' mother. "Yeah," he nodded.
"I was in the kitchen with the dirty clothes," she said, closing the door behind him and she realized that in the past his eyes had only held briefly, shyly with hers. "Uh, you can change in here if you want," she smiled, feeling warm at the look in his eyes.
"Thanks," he said softly and watched her go into the kitchen, closing the door behind her. Jill had long struck him as being beautiful, but he had never really considered her sexually due to the difference in their ages, among other things. Yet, there had been something in her eyes, something that had been there before but that he had not comprehended. Unbuttoning his shirt, he looked down at the hardening bulge of his cock under his jeans. And her eyes had often paused at his crotch, an action that now seemed to hold significance. He still felt cautious about risking getting in trouble by making a pass, as when he had been alone with Gillian, but he was now less worried that he was fantasizing.
In the kitchen, Jill dropped dirty clothes into the washer, telling herself that she was being silly. She was a married woman considering sex with a friend of her youngest. It was one thing to get off on the boy's oversized cock, but another to start thinking about balling with him. Still, his unfaltering eyes had seemed to realize that she considered him a man sexually, even though she had always been cautious not to let him know that.
"Could you help me, Mrs. Stanford?" she heard him ask and turned to see him standing in the doorway, dressed only in his jeans, the snap of which was open. "My zipper's stuck," he shrugged with a helpless smile.
"Yes, of course," she replied after several moments, her rationalizing slipping away as she looked at his tanned lithe body.
"I think it's caught on the cloth, but ... " he offered as she crossed to him, pulling out a chair to sit in front of him.
Her eyes held on the thick mound of his erect prick straining against his jeans. She wondered if he could be unaware of his condition, or if he did not realize the sexual aspect of it, or-if it was in response to her.
"Uh, let's see," she muttered, blinking her eyes to clear her head, her flesh feverish.
He smiled down at her strawberry blond mane as she leaned toward him to grip the tab of the zipper. He saw her fingers tremble as she gingerly took hold of the open waistband, her knuckles touching his abdomen. It had taken some effort to jam the zipper, but he was glad he had.
Holding her hand out from him, she held the zipper between thumb and forefinger to tug down. She wanted to raise her eyes to see what his expression was, but was afraid of exposing her own look of arousal. His flesh was warm against the backs of her fingers holding the top of his pants. The zipper moved down slightly, but did not clear.
"Maybe if-I get a better hold," she muttered nervously and moved her fingers farther down to grip the pants.
Her breath caught as she felt the downy furls of his pubic hair curl against her fingers and she suddenly felt dizzy.
"Really is stuck, huh?" she heard him say in a casually sympathetic voice and her mind cleared a bit at the idea that he was as oblivious to sex as Don appeared to be.
"Uh, yeah," she forced herself to say, focusing her eyes.
Sucking in on her lower lip, she gripped the zipper tighter and pulled again, nearly clearing it. Acting by reflex, she took in the slack above the zipper, her fingers moving farther down. She suddenly realized what she had done as her fingertips touched the base of his erect cock and her heart beat faster. In an effort to escape the situation, she jerked hard on the zipper and it came free, pulling fully open to reveal his pubic hair and the top half of his cock which was still held down by his jeans. Her lips parted at the thickness of the straining shaft, the veins pale blue as in white marble. She gripped her knees tightly.
"Gosh, thanks, Mrs. Stanford," he said cheerfully and she slowly raised her face to look at him.
While his expression showed nothing but relaxed friendliness, there was something in his eyes that told her he was fully aware of what was going on. More than that, she knew that she was not in control of the situation, regardless of their ages.
Making no effort to adjust his jeans, Fred looked over at one of the laundry baskets and lifted a lacy bra.
"This's sure pretty. Yours?" he asked and she nodded, unable to speak. "Very nice," he said, contouring the palm of his hand to the outside of one big cup and he then lifted the bra to his face, burying his nose inside the cup. "Umm," he murmured at the scent of her breast and perfume. "Is this yours too?" he asked, exchanging the bra for a linen dressing gown that lay with the clothes for dry cleaning and again she could only nod, vertigo swimming her mind. "I'd like to see you in that," he nodded and turned to glance over the other clothing.
Her mouth dry, Jill moistened her lips and one hand slid up her downy thigh, pushing her skirt up almost to her panties. She rubbed the base of her thumb down the throbbing heat of her slit through the skirt.
"Yeah, I think I like this the-" he began only to cut off as he turned, seeing her rub her cunny. "Playing with yourself, Mrs. Stanford? I get spanked if I get caught playing with myself," he smiled. "Do you?"
"I-" she began only to find she did not know what to say.
"Of course, I'm the one with my pants almost down. Would you spank Don if he caught you playing with yourself?" he asked. "I mean, if he got you all hot and then looked," he added, moving toward her. "Would you take him over your lap and pull down his pants and bring your hand down on his ass, feeling him wiggling around on your lap? Is that what you'd do with a boy who was watching you stroking your hot cunny, even though the boy had taken off his underwear and you knew you'd be feeling his naked cock all hard against your thighs, his balls sliding against you? Is that what you'd do?" he finished, no longer smiling, but staring intently into her lust-clouded eyes.
"Y-yes," she said, her breasts heaving with her strained breathing, maddened with arousal by his words.
He stood at the side of her legs for a moment and then leaned over them, leaving it to her to lower his jeans, denying her the sight of his prick. Realizing this as she adjusted her legs to support him, as she felt the heat of his belly against one thigh, she jerked the jeans down and off his rump, pushing them around his knees. As the cloth pulled out from between them, she felt his engorged whang spring free, hot and hard against her, his balls big.
Taking a deep breath, she lifted one hand, pressing the other against the small of his back. Then her hand came down with a smack, rose and fell again. Her palm slapped against his buttocks, an animal hunger in her expression as she watched them grow pink, as she felt his prod push down between her thighs, jerking with the motions of their bodies. She was breathing loudly, her hair disarrayed and the throbbing of her cunt mounted, accelerating with each fall of her hand until she suddenly clutched one ass cheek, her body bucking as she came. Clutching his cock between her thighs, she groaned. Slowly, she sagged forward, her hair spilling over his back.
Even though his ass stung from the spanking, Fred smiled, not minding the minor pain due to her pleasure. He slid from her lap and kicked his jeans free of his legs.
"Fair's fair though," he smiled and she raised confused eyes to him. "Since you did get caught, you should have a spanking coming too," he explained.
She brushed her hair back from her face, staring at the hard thrust of his fully revealed prick. She nodded and stood, her legs unsteady.
"Why don't you just lean forward and grip the edge of the table," he suggested, his smile gone and she did as directed, unquestioning.
He stared at her a moment, her body bent from the waist, her hair curtaining her face, her legs straight and slightly apart, her ass thrust back toward him. He took the hem of her skirt and rolled it slowly up, revealing the backs of her thighs and then her fanny through her transparent panties. He pushed the bunched skirt into its waistband and slid her panties down around her ankles to fully reveal her big ass, the light gleaming on the pale down gauzing the firm cushions.
"Yes, fair's fair," he said softly, easing his palm over her lush fanny and he moistened his lips. "Yes," he whispered, taking hold of her wide hips and arched his cock up between her legs and into the golden ringlets of her cunny.
Her mouth opening, Jill's head snapped up, her eyes widening with surprise, having been anticipating a spanking. She groaned with joy as his big tool slid up into her cunny. Rising up on the balls of his feet, he thrust fully into her and then came back down on his heels, drawing almost free of the hot sleeve of her snatch. Jill's hands tightened on the table edge, her tits straining against her blouse, her ass thrusting back against him as he pumped his long cock into her.
Feeling his cockhead flatten out against her cervix, he rubbed his hips against her fanny's softness, his hands stroking her thighs. Her head shook from side to side as he pulled back and thrust, in and out, filling her with waves of pleasure and her hair whipped about her head, her features mirroring her raptures. Her whole body trembled with the fires consuming her and her cunt sucked thirstily at his pistoning whang.
He gripped her tighter, his face twisting with the hot quakes rushing through him, his balls swollen as they swung with his motion, his shaft seeming on the verge of exploding. His lips pulled back, his eyes squinting and his legs tried to buckle. He cried out, clutching his body to hers and he came, his juice jetting up into the convulsing oven of her cunny.
She cried out too, climaxing as she felt his broth gushing within her, sparking the culmination of her accelerating joy. He gasped hoarsely for air, his lidded eyes glazed and she swayed. He groped out for support and pulled the chair over, collapsing into it with Jill upon his lap. His lungs heaving, he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly and she squeezed the sides of his thighs. Their breathing easing, his prick slipped free of her wet slit to lay against the chair seat. Jill smiled down at the sticky shaft and reached down to stroke it lovingly in her fist.
"That was more than fair," she smiled back over her shoulder. "Getting heavy?" she asked.
"No," he assured her, "but I'd like to see you naked."
"I'll even try on the dressing gown you wanted to see me in," she offered and stood up.
Turning, she unfastened her skirt as she kicked her panties away and let it fall in a dark ring about her feet. He took a deep breath at the sight of her long legs, the undercurve of her body, the white gold down that furred her abdomen and the thick ringlets of pale gold that created a pelt over her cunt and the whole underarch of her torso. Smiling warmly at his reaction, she untied her shirt from under her breasts and unbuttoned the two top buttons. The dark blue cloth fell to the floor, leaving her in only her low cut bra. She reached back and unhooked it. Dropping her arms, she let the last garment fall, the full globes quivering, the little pursed rings of her nipples standing out from the pale pinkish-tan areolas.
"Damn! but you're gorgeous," he said, overwhelmed by her beauty.
"Thanks," she whispered, smiling radiantly and reached back for the dressing gown.
He watched her slip into the near transparent gown, the light bright on the white linen. She lightly tied the sash and pirouetted for him, her naked body silhouetted through the softening haze of the fabric. She stopped and held her hands out to him, smiling. He stood, his young cock coming erect again and took hold of her hands. They came together into a tender embrace and their lips touched, then opened for a long kiss, their embrace tightening as their tongues swam together.
Their lips parted, their eyelids lifting and they glanced toward the door, startled to see Gillian standing there. Jill's sudden rush of panic was halted as she saw Fred and Gillian share a knowing smile.
"Ah, a mother's always the last to know!" She shook her head and broke into laughter, pulling Gillian into their embrace.