Betrayal of Trust Ch. 02

Glancing in the rearview mirror, I noticed two young women, probably babysitters, walking slowly down the sidewalk following three kids riding small bicycles. Two of them were still using training wheels, so they were going quite slowly. I knew I certainly had to let them get well-past before trying to make it to the house.

I scooted myself low in the seat, hoping they wouldn't see me sitting there in the driveway and come up to ask if I needed some help or something. I hoped the kids would distract them. As my bottom slid lower in the seat, I left a wet trail of nectar on the soft leather, another reminder of what this afternoon was all about. Even in my state of apprehension, I was still so aroused that I couldn't keep from reaching down and touching myself gently as I waited for the people to pass by.

As I waited and played my fingers lightly along my swollen lips, I closed my eyes and thought back to how I got here in the first place.

********

I was always exhausted the Saturday after school dismissed for the summer and usually ended up sleeping until noon. But not this day. I'd slept only fitfully Friday night, to the point that Dave finally asked me if there was something bothering me. Of course I said no, and tried to be still, as I lay there thinking about everything that had gone on between Julie and me during the past week.

I still couldn't believe that I'd first seduced my senior English student, then let her seduce me right in my classroom. I was on the verge of committing professional suicide and very possibly getting sent to jail, and all I could think of was how sweet her little cunt tasted when I took her there in her apartment last Saturday, and how eagerly she returned the favor after school the following Monday.

My juices began to flow as I lay there and thought about her firm little body and those womanly breasts. And most of all, I thought of how she had urged me to come to her apartment today while her mother was at work.

"We can have almost the whole day together," she'd told me, and I could only imagine what we could do to each other in that amount of time.

But at the same time, my guilt about the whole thing was getting to be almost unbearable. I had to steel myself and stay away from that girl! I knew nothing good could possibly come from our relationship... except for how good my pussy felt when she lapped at it with her eager young tongue.

Little ribbons of light were beginning to filter in though the blinds on our bedroom window, and I had decided I might as well get up so as not to bother Dave's sleep any more. But about that time, he rolled over toward my side of the bed and draped his arm over my stomach. He was rousing a bit and that move usually meant he was going to be "frisky" in the morning.

Sure enough, it wasn't long before the arm moved upward and his hand just "happened" to come to rest on my left breast. Still, he was not fully awake, but we had things pretty much on automatic pilot when it came to sex after nearly 15 years of marriage.

I was sleeping in a long T shirt and panties and Dave was wearing nothing but his boxers. I glanced over at him, his eyes still closed but with a little half-smile forming on his lips, and it reminded me how much I loved him, and how much I needed to end this... this thing... I was having with Julie. And end it quickly.

By now, Dave had stopped feigning sleep and opened his eyes and smiled at me. It was a smile that always melted my heart, and I rolled toward him, put my face very close to his and whispered, "Do you know how much I love you, baby?" I followed it up with a big, wet kiss, pressing my lips to his and hungrily thrusting my tongue in his mouth.

"Mmmmmmm. What's that all about?" He asked. With us, kissing had become less and less a part of our lovemaking over the years, so that kind of display had to be a bit of a surprise to him.

"I just want you," I whispered, "that's all."

And with that, I sat up and threw one leg over his waist and sat on my startled husband. In one smooth motion, I peeled the T shirt off and smiled as he reached up and began to massage my breasts with both hands. I leaned forward, resting my hands on either side of his face and dragged my erect nipples slowly over his muscular chest. I always loved the way his fine chest hair tickled them when I did that.

I kissed him again and could feel his cock springing to attention behind me. Dave always wakes up at about "half-mast," and it took practically no time at all for him to get fully erect as a result of my attentions. I reached behind me and slid my hand inside his boxers and ran it along the length of his shaft, up and down, several times. I hadn't been with many men in my life. None since Dave and I married. But in my limited experience, and from some comments I'd heard from some of the other female teachers at school, I felt as though Dave had a pretty nice cock. It was about seven inches long, and thick enough that my fingers could barely reach all the way around it.

But this morning, it felt especially big, and especially nice. And I guess what I was doing to it felt pretty nice, too, because I could feel a little precum beginning to ooze from it, and each time I gave it a squeeze, I felt a little jerk in return.

Dave was lying on his back with his eyes closed, just enjoying my impromptu hand job. I was already highly aroused from lying in bed all night thinking about Julie, and I didn't want, or need, to spend a lot of time on foreplay. I just needed to cum really bad.

Turning loose of his cock, I leaned forward again, once more pressing my hard nipples into his chest. "I want to be your whore, baby," I whispered to my startled husband. "I want you to fuck me like the bad girl I am."

Now occasionally, Dave and I would play little games with each other. But he was not used to hearing such talk from me. He looked at me with wide eyes, and just lay there as if he didn't know quite what to make of it.

"I've been a bad girl," I repeated, my voice now husky with the arousal that was building in me. "Pleaaaaasssse. Fuck me like I deserve."

I didn't have to say any more. Dave had the message. He threw me off him and nearly tore his boxers off. His cock was standing stiffly at attention and I could see it throb and pulse with each beat of his heart. And his heart seemed to be beating rather fast by that point.

"Get on your hands and knees, whore," he said sternly, "I'm going to fuck your naughty pussy." And with that, he yanked down my panties and shoved me into position on all fours in front of him.

I felt the head of his cock tracing along my crease, searching for just the right place to part them. And it wasn't long before he found it. Dave grabbed my hips hard as he shoved himself almost all the way in on the very first stroke. I think he was a little surprised at how smoothly his big cock entered me. We usually had to work our way up to it.

"So my naughty girl is really wet for me, huh," he chuckled.

"Oh, god, yes, baby," I panted back, not letting him know that a good part of that wetness was for my little Julie. "Now fuck me!" This time I nearly screamed it.

Dave was always good about doing as he was told. And this time was no exception. He began to pound in and out of me with deep, hard strokes. He'd pull his eight inches nearly all the way out, then thrust it as deep as possible. His thrusting was coming faster and faster, his heavy balls slapping my clit each time he bottomed out. But even that wasn't enough stimulation to take care of what I needed that morning. So I slid one hand underneath and began to rub my clit furiously, taking myself higher and higher toward what I knew would be a crushing orgasm.

Then I surprised even myself. "Spank me!" I hissed at my startled husband. I'd never asked for that before, never even wanted it. But today was different.

Totally taken off guard, Dave paused for just a moment, as if asking an unspoken question. But the last thing I wanted him to do was stop. I wanted him to take me. Take me right then. Harder. Faster. Deeper.

"Spank me, goddammit!" I hissed, turning around to see the startled expression on his face.

But this time he got the message, and I felt the first smack of his hand on my right buttock.

"Harder!" I yelled, reaching down again and tugging at my clit.

I didn't have to tell him again. The second blow brought tears to my eyes. And that was just what I needed right then. I wanted, needed to hurt and feel good at the same time. That was the perfect symbolism for my life at that moment.

Smack! Another swat, this one on my left cheek. Then another, and another, and another. And each time Dave's hand came down hard on my ass, I could feel his cock pulse inside me. The little spasms were beginning for me, too.

Finally, after probably ten hard swats, neither of us could take any more. Dave grabbed my hips again with both hands and began pumping even harder than before. He pushed me forward until I was resting on my elbows, my sore red bottom thrust into the air to meet him each time he buried his hard cock once more.

Finally, he made one more deep thrust and just froze. I knew it was time, and I took my clit between two fingers and began to pinch and roll it until I felt this explosion deep at my core that began shooting out to every inch of my body. I felt Dave's cock begin to throb and spasm, just as my cunt began those rolling waves that clutched and milked it.

One, two, three, four, times I felt him jerk against my throbbing tunnel, filling me with his hot semen. But it wasn't nearly enough. I was on fire, crazy with lust, and I needed more. So I began to rub my swollen clit as fast as I could and rolled right from my first orgasm into a second that finally caused me to collapse flat on the bed. Spent. Exhausted. With Dave's softening cock still clutched inside me.

He was so spent, too, that it was all he could do to keep from crushing me with his 180 pounds. But he managed to prop himself up just enough to keep from flattening me all together. Finally, I felt his shrinking cock slide out, followed very shortly by what felt like a river of our mingled juices. I'm not sure Dave had ever cum like that before, and I knew I hadn't.

He rolled over on his side and began rubbing his hands lightly over my tender bottom. His hand felt cool to my enflamed flesh. "God, Susan, what was that about?" he asked, sounding almost worried that something had gone a little haywire with his normally conservative wife.

"Mmmmmmmm," was all I could manage in my post-orgasmic bliss. Besides, I didn't think it would be too wise to mention that one of my students had lit the fire that I needed him to put out that morning.

"I'm sorry, babe," he said, "but I've got to get a shower and head over to the university to finish my enrollment for summer school. I think maybe we should talk some more."

"It's okay," I told him, my voice barely above a whisper. "I can't move right now."

He laughed as he got up and headed into the bathroom, and I just lay there on my stomach, thinking about what I wanted so badly to do later that day. And trying with all my strength to talk myself out of doing it.

But the resolve just wasn't there. I knew I would see Julie that day. Knew that I would taste her tender pussy once more. Knew that I would regret it.

And I slid my hand slowly underneath my limp body, cupped my sopping pussy until the heel of my hand was pressing my clitoris just right, and brought myself to my third orgasm of the morning.

I finally dragged myself out of bed around ten, showered, dressed and started pacing. I walked from one room to another, even out into the back yard, where I hoped the fresh air would bring me to my senses. But no luck.

Back in the house, I paused in front of the large mirror hanging in our entryway and just stared at the face reflected there. It was a pretty face, I had to acknowledge. But there was something about the eyes... my eyes. There was an intensity there that I didn't usually see, a sort of burning. If the eyes truly are the window to the soul, it was clear that my need for Julie went that deep. The need I saw there scared me so much I had to turn away.

But it also convinced me that I might as well quit putting it off. I was going to see Julie that day, so I might as well quit stalling and head over to her apartment. When I arrived and rang the bell, Julie greeted me at the door with a smile. She didn't seem at all surprised to see me, even though the last thing she heard from me was that we must not see each other any more.

"Oh, hi, Mrs. Robertson," she smiled, those dark eyes sparkling at me. "Come on in. I was just chatting online and I need to say goodbye to my friend."

I never understood the fascination of Julie's generation with sitting in front of a computer hour after hour when they could actually be with REAL people. But there were apparently a lot of things I didn't understand about Julie's generation. Or at least about Julie.

I watched as she walked across the combination living/dining room toward her computer desk on the far wall. I always enjoyed watching her from behind, with her firm rounded hips that swayed so sensuously. Her body just exuded sexuality, and I wondered if she practiced the way she presented herself or whether it was simply in her DNA.

She was wearing some loose fitting athletic shorts, made of a red silky fabric. They were very short, too, and with each step they revealed just a hint of the curve of her bottom peeking out from underneath. She had paired them with a white tank top with very thin straps. And that was all. No shoes, obviously no bra from the way her pert young breasts revealed themselves when she was facing me, and I was betting no panties, either.

She sat briefly in her computer chair, typed a bit on the keyboard, apparently taking leave of her online friend, then turned to me with a warm smile. "There, that should take care of things, "she said and began to walk back to where I was still standing.

She walked up and stood very close and said softly, "I'm really glad you decided to come, Mrs. Robertson." And with that she reached out and took my hand and began leading me over to the sofa.

"Wait a minute, Julie. Didn't you hear a thing I said that day after class? We just have to stop this."

"Don't you want me, Mrs. Robertson?" she said, her voice rising to sound like a little girl's. But I knew she didn't really want an answer to her question. She already knew it. She knew I wanted her... desperately. But she was just teasing, tempting me.

She led us over to the couch and plopped down on one end while I sat on the other, watching her and wondering how long I could refrain from taking her in my arms and holding her close to me again. She turned sideways to face me and drew one leg underneath her. As she shifted positions, her loose shorts gapped and confirmed my suspicion that she was not wearing panties. That brief glimpse of the soft skin so close to her tight little pussy was more than I could take. My nipples instantly sprang to attention and I could feel the dampness between my legs.

"I like it when you look at me like that," Mrs. Robertson. "It makes me feel all tingly."

I didn't quite know what to say to that. I didn't really want to admit that it made me tingly, too. After all, I was not the one who was a teenager. I just felt like one. Julie looked into my eyes and began to caress herself slowly, sensuously. She ran her fingertips lightly over her erect nipples, which were trying to poke their way through her thin white tank top.

Almost without thinking, I reached up and began to do the same—mirroring her seductive movements. When she saw me start to caress myself as she was doing, she began to smile, a little mocking smile that seemed to be saying that she could have her way with me anytime she wanted. It must have been that look that snapped me out of my sexually-induced trance.

"This is crazy," I thought to myself. "I'm the adult here. I'm the teacher. And here I am letting this seductive little bitch control me like this!"

I don't quite understand what happened next, but a sort of fire just washed over me. I felt this crazy jumble of emotions all at once. I was angry, excited, scared... all at the same time. Before I even quite realized it, I reached across the sofa and grabbed Julie by her arm and pulled her over to me.

"All right, young lady," I nearly shouted at her. "We'll see who's in control here!"

Of course, I could physically handle Julie with ease. She was barely over five feet and I was more than half a foot taller. I must have outweighed her by 30 pounds or more. And with the rush of emotions I was feeling right then, her little body felt like a rag doll's in my grip.

Her mouth was open and her eyes wide as I tightened my grip on her arm even more and dragged her to me. "I'm going to teach you what happens to little sluts," I yelled, "who flaunt their bodies like that!" And with that I turned the astonished Julie over my lap and prepared to administer the first spanking I'd ever given anyone.

Oh, I had been on the receiving end of numerous spankings from my mom and dad. Both of them had whipped me as I was growing up, and looking back, I had needed it every time. Always over their laps. Always with a bare bottom. With their hands most of the time, but occasionally when I had really been bad, with a belt (dad) or a hairbrush (mom). The last spanking I received was when I was 16 and took the car without permission shortly after I'd received my license. That time, it was dad with the belt, and I'd never forget it.

But I had never done anything to approach Julie's transgressions. Intentionally not wearing panties to class. Showing off her bare little pussy to the teacher. Acting like the little tramp. Of course, I was loath to acknowledge my own contribution to her behavior because, after all, I was desperately trying to control myself, and she was just egging me on.

I pushed my left hand into her back to hold her in place while I reached with my right to pull down her loose shorts. By now, some of her astonishment had been replaced by fear, and Julie began to kick her legs, trying to free herself from my grasp. Of course, my superior size and strength allowed me easily to keep her in place over my lap.

"Stop it, Julie," I hissed at her. "Stop struggling or you're only going to get it worse."

Apparently realizing from my harsh tone that I meant business, she stopped kicking and lay quietly over my knees. I could hear little sobs erupting from her throat as the realization of what was about to happen sank in.

"All right, Julie. You've needed this for a long time. Your mother should have done it a lot more often. Have you ever been spanked?"

"Nnno," she sobbed, the word catching in her throat. "Please don't hurt me, Mrs. Robertson!" She started to struggle a little, and I responded with a hard smack on the right cheek of her firm, rounded ass.

"Owwwwww!" she yelled. "Stop it, you bitch!" She tried to reach around with one hand and shield her bottom, but I grabbed her hand and quickly moved it out of the way.

And with that, I rained down a half-dozen more hard swats on Julie's bare bottom, alternating from one cheek to the other until both were pink and warm from my efforts. And despite her struggles, I kept her firmly planted on my lap.

"Now, Julie, the more you struggle, the worse it's going to be. Each time you struggle, I'm going to give you six extra swats. Now lie still."

She lay across my lap, her breaths coming in quick gulps. Her face was red with anger and pain and tears were beginning to trickle down both cheeks. "All right, dear, that's better," I told her soothingly as she ceased her struggling. "You know you've been bad. You know you deserve this, so let's get it over with, shall we?"