Homecoming High Ch. 02

Tuesday morning.

Kim Hayles hit the snooze button on her alarm clock, rolled back over, hugging her pillow to her body. She'd been smiling when the alarm went off. The smile faded slowly; the nagging reality hovered at the back of her mind, its morally correct message taunting her from somewhere within her subconscious. She couldn't quite reach out and grasp the thought, but it was there, like a creak of a floorboard, an echoing footstep...

She took a deep breath, willing herself to get up, not quite wanting to. Just before she woke, she'd been dreaming of being in her lovers' arms, braced in his passionate clutch. His solid hands roaming over her body, long, strong fingers touching all of her sensitive spots. As she lay there at the edge of sleep, she could almost feel it, a little warm fuzzy feeling.

She had been in her bed, in the dream, her head back on a pillow, sharing an orgasm with her lover. She'd dreamed that she had looked up at him as the orgasm hit, his eyes holding her own, his awareness of her the sexiest part of her dream...

Passionate love, she thought, smiling to herself. She drifted back to sleep, just for five minutes, dreaming of the lover with the strong hands. A young lover and his caress, a little bit warm, getting hotter...

The alarm went off again. Kim's eyes flew open and she sat up. Panic ripped through her as she blinked into the darkness. The digital alarm clock glowed the time in a steady bright red, the numbers reading four-forty-five in the morning.

"Oh, Lord," she whispered. She let out a long sigh. No rest for the wicked.

Young lover? Her dream suddenly played itself out again in her mind. She shook her head, frowned, threw the blankets back with a sense that such a wonderful dream shouldn't be so wrong.

The young lover she'd been dreaming of was her own son, Randy.

She looked down at her still sleeping husband, then looked away.

You're fantasizing about your son, she reminded herself, trying to shut her mind to those dangerous thoughts. What kind of mother was she? Dreaming such lurid, unspeakable dreams about her own child. Only a dream, just another damn dream, she told herself as she clicked on the bedside lamp and nudged her husband. "Bill. Get up honey. You don't want to miss your flight."

She got out of bed and headed for the kitchen to make coffee. She slid the basket out, placed a filter in it, filled it with coffee, replaced it, poured a full pot of water into the reservoir, and then punched the on button.

Within seconds the machine began to gurgle. The fresh smell of coffee soon filled the room.

**************

Kim sat by the big bay window in the breakfast nook drinking her coffee. He husband had just left for the airport; he'd be gone four nights this time.

The early morning sun was bathing the woods beyond the Hayles backyard with its brilliant autumn light, but it was lost on her. She was deep in thought. Her dream had deeply affected her, she felt like a love struck teen-ager.

She replayed the dream through her mind and was rewarded with a new wave of guilt.

"Morning Mom." Her reverie was broken.

"Morning, honey."

Randy came into the kitchen without a shirt, wearing just a pair of lounge pants. Her first impulse was to go to him and throw herself into his strong arms, but she caught herself short, pushed the thought aside. As he poured a cup of coffee, his back to her, she let her eyes work their way down from his broad, muscular shoulders to his narrow waist, and finally to his tight ass. She took a slow breath as she bit down softly on her bottom lip, tossing her lustrous hair over one shoulder. She had never looked upon a man before with such erotic, naughty thoughts streaming through her head.

Her blood pressure began a rapid elevation.

Kim despised herself for it, annoyed that her pulse had skyrocketed, but she could feel the pleasure of his presence unwinding in her chest.

Her face flushed, her pulse pounded in her ears, blood heated white-hot by a forbidden, incestuous need, fermented by denial, raced through her veins.

From the moment he'd first raked over her near naked body with a lust-filled look in his eyes, Kim had been consumed by an almost undeniable hunger for her son.

She couldn't think of anything else.

Oh my God! I've got a crush on my son! I'm absolutely horrible...

Her thoughts were interrupted again when her daughter entered the room. "Morning Mom. Morning butt-head."

"Morning Deb," Kim replied.

"Morning hag," Randy shot back.

"Be nice you two," Kim scolded.

Debbie was still in her pj's; a slippery low-cut silk pullover and loose fitting silk shorts. She grabbed a bowl, cereal and milk and sat at the table across from her brother. She leaned forward while eating her breakfast, giving her twin brother a nice view down the front of her top, showing off her soft cleavage. Kim didn't notice the show, but Randy did, sneaking occasional glances at his sister's tits.

Debbie watched her brother's eyes, satisfied with her effect. "Why does Randy get to come to the table without a shirt on? What if I showed up for breakfast without a shirt?" There was a pinprick of amusement in her eyes. She knew the effect she had on men, even her own brother.

"Be my guest," he said, steadfastly holding her eyes, she looked back into his teasing eyes, his seductive eyes with their tiny gray striations in the blue irises.

"Both of you, knock it off," Kim said, rolling her eyes. "Randy, from now on, wear a shirt to the table." There was a pause before Kim changed the subject. "Deb, we have that meeting with Mr. Dunbar this afternoon."

"Do we have to?"

"Yes, we have to. I want to know why your grades have fallen off this year," Kim answered.

"Mom, the year has just started," Debbie retorted, exasperated. "I would hardly worry about my grades falling off this early in the year."

"I'm your mother. It's my job to worry. We're going to that meeting."

"Whatever," she said, rolling her eyes.

Kim let it go. "Randy, you'll probably get home from football practice before us. Would you order pizza for dinner? I'm going to leave some money next to the phone."

"Sure thing," he replied, as he stood, took his breakfast dishes to the sink. "I'm gonna go get ready."

As he left the room, Kim unconsciously watched him leaving, admiring her son's physical attributes, unaware of Debbie's curious gaze.

She snapped out of it when Debbie too stood up and left the room to get ready for school.

As Debbie left the room, she was wondering to herself what that was all about. Why had her mother been looking at her brother that way. The way a woman looks at a man when she hungers for him.

Interesting.

**************

Randy re-entered the kitchen as Debbie was headed out the door. Jesus, he looked good, hair still damp from his shower, faded blue jeans, a leather jacket over a form fitting t-shirt. Kim's breathing seemed to stop when he approached her.

"See you tonight," he said as he kissed the smooth skin just beneath her high cheekbone and then headed out the door, following his sister, yelling, "I get to drive!"

**************

Randy spotted Stacy waiting for him next to his locker. She stood there, smiling at him, her text books clutched tightly against her perky breasts. She was wearing a short sleeve ivory cashmere sweater, designer jeans, and slip on loafers. She looked good, and he felt a flood of guilt because he'd cheated on her with Mrs. Dean not even twenty-four hours earlier.

"Hey babe," he said.

"Hi," she said, tilting her head to the side, throwing her hair back, and offering her lips to him.

"Not in school," they heard a booming voice say. Principal Tanner was in his late forties, fleshy, pink-cheeked, unconsciously rumpled, and cheerful with the smile of an encyclopedia salesman.

"Sorry Mr. Tanner," Randy said.

"We have to follow the rules, Mr. Hayles," the likable principal said with a chuckle. "So, are we going to win Homecoming this year?"

"Yes sir. Eastwood has never won on our field, and that isn't going to change this year," Randy confidently proclaimed.

"Great! That's what I wanted to hear. Go Tigers!"

"Go Tigers!" several students repeated.

"You two lovebirds had better get moving along to class now," Tanner told Stacy and Randy.

**************

Mindy Dean was in the school office talking with her best friend, Maggie Hubbard in hushed voices. Anytime somebody came close enough to hear their conversation, they quickly changed the subject to something mundane until it was safe to resume the more dangerous topic they were really discussing.

"I'm telling you, Maggie," Mindy whispered. "That boy's cock is amazing. It felt absolutely divine. I've never been so full of cock before in my life!"

Maggie grabbed her arm. "You're full of shit." But interest was evident in her features, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Don't look so shocked. You know me. You know how horny I always am, how much I like to fuck," she lowered her voice even more.

Both women giggled. "I can't believe you did that," Maggie said, envy in her eyes.

"I couldn't help myself. Have you seen him? I mean, really looked at him? He's just about the sexiest man I've ever seen," Mindy continued in a conspiratorial tone.

"I've noticed. He comes in here every day after lunch to use Coach Thompson's office for a study hall. I get a fuzzy feeling every time I see him," the secretary admitted.

"You should try his cock out," Mindy suddenly said.

"I couldn't do that," she said at once.

"Why?" Mindy grinned wickedly.

"You know why," Maggie said.

"No I don't. Enlighten me."

"For starters...he's a little young. Second...I'm married. And most importantly...I could lose my job, or worse!"

"None of those things stopped me, and to tell you the truth, the risk is definitely worth the reward. Trust me," Mindy assured her friend with a wink.

"I'll think about it," Maggie said with a promising twinkle in her eye.

Mindy smiled. "You know my motto...You only live once, so live it up."

"But that's you. I've always been the safe one, remember?" Maggie said, dismissively.

"Fuck him. Try out his fat cock. You'll thank me," she said, teasingly as she left.

**************

Tuesday afternoon.

Randy walked into the school office, smiled at Mrs. Hubbard. She looked up and when she realized it was Randy, lifted her chin, smiled back and caught her bottom lip with an upper tooth, and said, "Hi Randy." She fought the sudden urge to wave to him. She began to feel what Mindy did, the physical pull of the teen.

He let himself into Coach Thompson's office. He had an arrangement with his football coach that allowed him the use of the office as a quiet place to study during the hour after lunch when he was supposed to be in the library for study hall, but Randy found that it was easier to get his studies completed if he was alone.

The room was fifteen feet square, no window, a door that opened into the main office and another that opened into the hallway. There was a wooden desk, a swivel chair, and a couple of visitor's chairs, two file cabinets, a bookcase, and a computer perched on the desk. Two walls were covered with framed photos of each team he's coached, and another wall held a large cork bulletin board.

Randy sat down in the swivel chair, took out his text book, kicked his feet up on his coach's desk and began to study.

**************

Beyond the door, in the school office, Maggie sat behind her desk waving a hand in front of her face, fanning herself.

Wow, she thought, gnawing on the corner of her lip, he is really something. But I can't get involved with him. There's just too much at stake, besides, he's not your type.

Sure, he's not. That's why you're sitting here with a racing pulse, your face is flush, and you feel all giddy inside.

Still, you have too much to lose. If we were caught, I could lose my job, or worse, lose my husband and family. There's just too much at risk.

She shook with repressed need. Since delivering her first child early in the summer, Maggie had found that she seemed to be horny a lot more than she used to be. It was almost a constant thing. She didn't know what caused it. A hormone imbalance, breast feeding, or just a natural change in her body, but her husband couldn't keep up with her.

Now you have this sexy eighteen-year-old hottie tempting you five days a week, she thought. That's just great.

**************

Mindy sat through the last few minutes of her seventh hour English Lit class, wondering if Randy would show up before football practice. Did she want him to?

Oh, yes she did.

No doubt about it.

She remembered his lips...his mouth...his hands...his skin against hers; his big body engulfing her, pressing his length into her...

Her hopes soared ridiculously high. She not only wanted him to show up, she needed him.

Ten minutes later, well after the last student had left, she sensed movement and looked up in time to see Randy Hayles enter her classroom, closing the door behind him; she heard the audible click of the lock.

He was looking right into her eyes, a shy, but sexy smile on his lips.

Her pulse quickened in anticipation.

A potent yearning practically radiated off of her.

Just looking at him took her breath away.

"You said I could stop by, whenever, you know..."

"You wanted to fuck me," she said, teasingly.

"Yeah." There was that shy but sexy smile again.

Mindy stood and walked around her desk, lifting her arms up and around his neck, drawing him down to her. She kissed him, reaching a hand down between their bodies, rubbing the length of his hard cock. She sighed into his open mouth.

"We better hurry so you're not late for practice," she said as she broke their embrace, kicking off her shoes, unfastening her slacks and dropping them. He followed her example.

She sat up on the edge of her desk; spread her legs, lifting her knees. She reached down and ran a finger along her slit. "I'm already wet."

Randy swallowed hard, hypnotically watching her rub and finger her glistening, juicy pink pussy.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked, inviting him to step between her legs.

He brought his thick cock to her open pussy lips and thrust the head inside.

"Oh, fuck yes," she gasped in pleasure, then hissed, "I've needed that all day. Put the rest in and fuck me!"

She gasped again when he withdrew and thrust into her again as his big hands lifted her ass off of the desk, the full length of his cock sinking inside, claiming her completely.

**************

Kim was running late for the conference, and traffic hadn't helped. She hoped that this wouldn't take long, in and out; she was in no condition for a lengthy, drawn-out meeting. Her mind just wasn't all the way there.

She thought about her son all the time now. Reran his image mentally. She would see him in another man – reminded by a gesture or a certain way of moving, a turn of the head.

These incestuous thoughts were becoming a sliver under her skin. She would try to ignore it, but they wouldn't go away.

She parked her car in the lot by the front door of the high school and hurried inside. She oriented herself and headed down the hallway, looking for Mr. Dave Dunbar's classroom. A moment later she found herself standing outside the open door. She could see her daughter sitting in a desk in the front row, talking to her teacher who was seated behind his own desk.

Kim tapped on the door frame as she entered the room and said, "Sorry I'm late," she said, giving her daughter a little smile and approached Mr. Dunbar's well organized desk. "Traffic was pretty thick on the way over here."

"That's quite alright," he said. "Please have a seat."

Kim noticed the warmth in the man's eyes. She took a desk next to Debbie who glanced over at her mother. Dave had caught Kim's attention. He was muscular, dark-complected, wearing a dark European-cut suit. Good-looking, she thought. Yummy.

"Debbie, would you close the door please?" he asked.

"Sure." She went to the back of the room, closed the door, then returned to her seat.

Mr. Dunbar leaned his big frame forward, folded his hands, and placed them atop his desk. "Debbie was just telling me how concerned you are about her grades. I'm glad to hear that. It seems that more and more parents don't want to take the time to get involved with their children's lives anymore."

Kim nodded. "As her mother, I'm responsible for her well being. I'll probably always feel that way, even when she's my age," she said, smiling.

Debbie had an exasperated expression on her pretty little face and rolled her eyes at her mother's comments.

"Well," Dave said. "I think that everything is going to work itself out. It is still very early in the school year, and her grades really aren't that bad. She can still bring every one of them up to an A with little extra effort. She just needs a little incentive," he finished as he assessed Kim Hayles. She was around his age, very attractive, had great eyes, he thought. Italian eyes. Eyes you could fall into, no problem. Debbie was the image of her mother. Good genetics in that family.

"I'm so glad to hear that. I don't want her to miss out on getting into the college of her choice because she got lazy and let her grades slip," Kim sincerely said.

"I'm not lazy," Debbie protested. "You're being so unfair!"

"That's not what I said. I didn't say that you were lazy, I said, 'you got lazy and let your grades slip'."

Kim looked into Dunbar's eyes and felt herself stir. His eyes were a damn shade of blue that screamed sexy. They were the kind of eyes that if you looked into them for too long you'd begin to think of things that a mother shouldn't be thinking of during a parent/ teacher conference.

Naughty things.

Kim had always been acutely sensitive to the relationships between others that she witnessed. While he had been talking, she realized that Debbie and Mr. Dunbar were somehow involved with each other. Kim watched her daughter's face closely, gauging her reactions to Dave, smiling to mask her suspicions from Debbie. There's intimacy there, Kim thought. They are very comfortable in each other's company. Sexually?

Yes. The more she watched, the more she was convinced that she was right.

She felt the first twinges of jealousy. She wasn't sure why, but she was becoming increasingly jealous of her daughter's relationship with her good-looking teacher.

"You mentioned an incentive. What did you mean?" the mother asked, with curiosity in her voice.

"Why don't you tell your mother?" he asked.

"She's not going to like it," Debbie answered, looking him in the eye.

"Maybe not. Tell her anyway."

"Meany," she said. "Make me do all of the dirty work." Debbie frowned, pushed out her lower lip, studied the handsome teacher, and shook her head.

Kim was confused as she watched the exchange and listened to the banter. What the hell was this about?

"Mom," she began. "Dave and I are sort of dating."

Kim was shocked. She looked from one to the other, both smiling back at her. "Oh dear God! Dating? He's..." she began and then turned her attention to Dunbar. "You're old enough to be her father!"

He just looked at her, shrugged his shoulders, and smiled at her with a 'cat-ate-the-canary' grin.

"Actually there's more to it," Debbie paused, then continued. "It's more like a sexual relationship than a dating thing."

"Oh no..." Her mouth was an O, her eyes large. "I can't believe this Debbie. Having sex with your teacher? What has gotten into you?"

"Teachers gotta fuck too," Debbie said, shocking her mother as she stood, took a step forward, and leaned over the desk, and kissed Dave with enough open-mouthed fervor to make Kim's gut clench.