Teacher's Pest Ch. 03

Thankfully, the air was warmer tonight than at the ballgame the night before. They walked in growing anticipation from the hotel toward the Lincoln Memorial at the west end of The Mall. The orange and purple hues of the setting sun served as a backdrop to their destination. Tiffany felt a surge of excitement as they climbed the long set of stairs leading up to the monument.

When they arrived, several members of a Japanese tour group were taking pictures. Dave and Tiffany took time to read some of the inscriptions as they waited. Tiffany was fascinated by the huge 12 foot by 60 foot "Emancipation" mural by Jules Guerin, representing Freedom and Liberty, the crux of Lincoln's legacy.

"I wonder if we could get THEM to photograph us in our celebration of Freedom?" Tiffany teased, nodding toward the Japanese tourists. Dave shook his head in silent rejection of the idea.

Before long, the tour group moved on. Dave went to the top of the steps to make sure nobody else was approaching. The coast was clear. "Ready?" Dave asked as he returned to Tiffany, who stood staring at the statue of Lincoln.

"Touch me and see," she answered, "please..."

Dave reached his hand under Tiffany's skirt. Feeling her warmth and wetness, Dave nodded. "Ready indeed," he affirmed. "I hope Abe didn't do this to you -- I'll have to kick his ass." Tiffany loved it when Dave loosened up and cracked jokes.

"No -- only you get me wet, baby. And who gets you hard?" she asked.

"Just you, Tiff -- you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Are you as hard as I am wet?"

He smirked at her, one eyebrow raised, willing her to read his mind. "I know," she said, "touch you and see."

She slid her hand inside his baggy shorts and grasped his hard-on. "You're ready indeed," she affirmed.

"We should try to make this fast," Dave suggested with a nervous chuckle, looking around.

"Not TOO fast, big boy. Got the camera?"

Still stroking Tiffany's warm, slippery labia with his fingers below her skirt, Dave reached in the pocket of his gym shorts with his other hand. "Got it," he said, displaying Tiffany's small digital camera. He pushed the "on" button.

Inverting the display screen, Dave held the camera at arm's length. He tilted it in his hand until he and Tiffany came into view.

"What do you want in the picture?" he asked.

Tiffany grinned coyly. "Well, I want proof positive of penetration, with Abe looking on in approval in the background. Ideally, our faces will be in view as well."

"I'm not sure my arm's that long," Dave retorted, "so we may have to resort to asking one of those Japanese tourists help us to frame that view after all."

"Now you're tempting me," Tiffany smiled.

"The language barrier's too high," Dave said in self-defense.

"Actually, I learned some Japanese when my folks took me to Tokyo when I was younger."

"Why am I not surprised?" Dave answered, "But I doubt you learned how to ask 'Will you take a picture of us fucking?'"

"Touché," she replied.

"Okay, tell you what -- let's start with the penetration part of the equation. Everything else should flow from there."

"I thought you'd never ask," she laughed.

Dave removed his fingers from beneath her skirt and licked them to provide additional lubrication. He swirled them around her slit and then slid them inside her warm, moist love tunnel. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "I love you, Tiffany Criswell," he sighed.

"I love you, too, Dave -- unconditionally."

"Unconditionally -- so I don't have to do this?" he teased.

Tiffany's lower lip formed a quick pout. Dave smiled in response. "I WANT to do this, Tiff," he assured her.

"Me, too -- now let's get this show on the road. I want you to fuck me, Dave -- right here, right now."

Despite her words, Tiffany made the first move. She pulled Dave's shorts halfway down his thighs. She took a few moments to stroke his shaft gently to a more fulsome erection. She then bent over and hiked her skirt above her hips. "Doggy style?" asked Dave.

"Yes, just to get you inside me. Then we'll both stand up. We'll take the photo from the front, with you standing behind me. I'll spread my legs and lean back into you. That way your dick will be visible penetrating my pussy. We'll want to take the picture with you halfway inside me."

"Your wish is my command," Dave replied. He pushed his cock up against her labia from behind, using his hands to spread the bottom of her ass cheeks to give him better access to her cunt. Tiffany had to lean all the way forward, hands on the concrete with her rear end in the air, for Dave to finally and fully penetrate her vaginal slit. Once inside, Dave waited a moment for his cock to adjust to her tightness -- or her pussy to adjust to his hardness, he wasn't sure which -- so as not to hurt her.

"Mmmm, feels good," said Tiffany, "I'm going to stand up now -- keep it inside me."

Dave pushed his cock deeper inside her and grasped her midsection with his free hand to keep her skirt from falling down and obscuring the camera's view as she raised herself up. Once she was upright, he extended his fingers further around front to massage her clit. He began thrusting into her from behind.

"Ooh, baby, that feels good," Tiffany assured him.

"Uh-huh," Dave grunted.

"Really give it to me, Dave -- hard and fast!" she exhorted breathlessly.

Dave wanted to object, to tell her that they just needed to take the photo and leave, but he couldn't resist her words or her body. He began pumping furiously, simultaneously frigging her clit.

The fact that they were fucking in front of the Lincoln Memorial brought Tiffany near orgasm almost right away. Dave, while not as dramatically inspired by their public venue, was at least able to maintain an erection for the purpose at hand.

"Dave..." she murmured. "Dave, get the camera ready. I'm about to cum!"

Dave steadied the camera in his left hand as he continued stroking her clit with his right. Tiffany leaned back against him and spread her legs for the camera. Dave's penis was clearly visible in the viewfinder, sliding deeper and then shallower into her vagina.

"Dave... Dave..." Tiffany's voice became higher-pitched, ending nearly in a squeal. "Dave, take the picture -- take the picture!"

He felt her pussy pulsing around his cock. He knew she was cumming at that instant. He moved his fingers away from her pubic area to reveal her slit for the photo. Her landing strip was visible above the naughty view of his dick pistoning into her vagina -- a truly erotic scene. Dave tilted the camera so that Abe was visible over Tiffany's shoulder.

Dave snapped the photo. He had used a wide angle lens, and was able to capture both of their faces in the field of view as well. Tiffany had a look of orgasmic bliss on her angelic face. Dave's mug carried a look of concern. His concerns were justified.

"Um, folks, what's going on here?" a booming baritone voice inquired from a distance. The echo of footsteps clicking against the pavement reverberated inside the memorial.

Dave gently but immediately extricated his cock from Tiffany's snatch. He pulled his gym shorts back up while she hurriedly smoothed her skirt back down over her hips and thighs. Dave stuffed the camera back in his pocket.

"Folks, can I ask what's going on?" the man reiterated as he approached. He was in the greenish khaki uniform of a National Parks employee. His uniform indicated that he worked with Parks security.

"N-n-not much," Dave stammered. He was certain they were about to be arrested.

"Is that right?" the security man asked, looking back and forth from Dave to Tiffany. Her heaving breath hinted at the orgasmic eruption she had just experienced.

"No trouble, officer," she managed to exhale between gasps for breath. The aroma of sex was heavy in the air.

The man was silent for a moment. Staring at them, seeming to ponder a question or statement, he finally spoke. "Okay, folks, let's move along," he said.

"Thank you, sir," Dave replied gratefully.

"Yes, officer -- thank you," Tiffany agreed demurely. She and Dave began a hasty retreat. Dave was certain he caught a wink from the officer as they passed by him.

As they reached the top of the steps to descend the memorial, the security man, trailing more slowly behind them, called out. "Just remember, folks," he hollered, "each of the monuments has security cameras all around them. Don't try any stunts like that again."

* * * * *

Friday was overcast and muggy. The cherry blossoms of Washington in springtime had given way to the profuse green growth of early summer.

As they walked along the Potomac, Tiffany asked, "Did you know that these cherry trees were a gift from Japan?"

"No -- tell me about it," replied Dave.

"Yes -- a hundred years ago. Mayor Ozaki of Tokyo gave a whole whack of Japanese cherry trees to the city of Washington as a gesture of friendship. It was in late March of 1912, less than a month before the Titanic went down."

"But the two were unrelated?" Dave asked.

"No, silly, the Titanic was sunk by a clump of cherry trees lost off a Japanese ocean liner in the North Atlantic," Tiffany deadpanned. Dave stared at her in confusion. "I think you're wearing your moron cap today, 'Mr. B.'," she taunted affectionately.

"Guilty as charged," Dave laughed, "And speaking of guilty, I'm sure glad we didn't get busted last night by that security officer. That would have made a great headline in the Washington Post -- 'National Chemistry Contest finalist arrested for lewd conduct at the Lincoln Memorial'."

"But what a BUZZ it was!" Tiffany exclaimed. "Admit it, Dave -- you LIKED it!"

"I would have liked it a lot better if he had waited to show up until after I had a chance to cum," Dave countered.

"But then you might not have been 'up' for that fantastic blow job I gave you back at the hotel," Tiffany reminded him.

"Deferral does have its benefits," Dave admitted.

"Anyway, Dave -- like I was saying, these cherry trees were a gift. Everyone knows about the Statue of Liberty being a gift to the U.S. from France. Very few realize the annual wonder of the cherry trees blossoming in D.C. are a gift from Japan."

"Did you learn that from one of your trips to Tokyo?"

"No, I did some research before we came to Washington. I wanted to get the full benefit of the visit. Aside from the honeymoon aspect, that is."

Dave thought he saw a tinge of color on Tiffany's cheeks. Had she blushed?

"Speaking of the 'honeymoon', Tiff -- do you realize what today is?"

"Sure. It's Friday," she replied. Her eyes were downcast.

"Which is?..." He waited for her reply.

"One week."

"Yes. A week since someone other than the mayor of Tokyo gave me a cherry of a different kind." Dave placed his hand in hers. "A gesture of something greater than friendship..."

"You and your virginal metaphors," she laughed, "Any regrets, Dave?"

"None whatsoever. You?"

"Only that I waited so long to get your attention."

"Much sooner and you'd have lost me my job," he teased.

They walked in silent kinship along the river. Heading north, they hurried past the Lincoln Memorial, site of last night's erotic rendezvous and near-arrest. They slowed as they walked eastward, coming upon "the Wall": the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.

Dave's hand gripped Tiffany's more tightly as they approached. Despite the grey and cloudy day, the Wall's carved stone surface glistened like polished onyx. Tiffany was stirred by the rows and rows of names, each one representing a fallen soldier.

"Look at that..." she whispered. She rubbed two fingers across a soldier's name, feeling the imprint of the engraved letters.

Dave needed no prodding. He knelt down and touched a miniature American flag lodged into a seam in the wall. He rubbed the engraved name of another fallen soldier.

The thoughts that had troubled Dave's mind at the Korean War Memorial came flying back. He placed a hand against the Wall, struggling for leverage. He hung his head.

"Dave -- are you okay?" asked Tiffany with concern.

"Um... yeah, Tiff. It's just what I said before. The war monuments are not a place to celebrate. They're a place to mourn."

Tiffany saw a tear trickling down the side of Dave's nose.

"Dave... talk to me, sweetheart. It's more than that, isn't it? There's something -- personal in it for you." She knelt beside him.

Dave leaned his head against her shoulder. She placed an arm around him.

"Tiff -- I've never -- talked to you about my dad..."

"Was he in Vietnam?"

"No. That was before his time. He was in the Gulf War."

"And -- what happened?"

"He died when I was five. He was killed in action in early 1991, in Operation Desert Storm. It was on my mom's birthday -- January 31st." Dave paused, collecting himself.

"They called it a bloodless war. For me, nothing could be further from the truth. 'Only' a hundred and forty-eight battle-related deaths, but my dad was one of them."

Tiffany gazed at Dave. She saw the eyes of a five year-old boy who'd lost his father. She wanted to speak, to make it better. She couldn't find the right words; she simply hugged him closer. A few more tears dribbled down the edge of Dave's nose. Tiffany found herself suppressing her own tears.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

"I don't know. There's not much to say."

"Tell me about your dad," she prompted.

"He was a good man," Dave answered, "but I didn't see him very often. He was on tours of duty for much of my early life. I only have vague recollections of him."

"Tell me about them. I want to know," she asked sincerely. She stood and helped him to his feet. They began strolling slowly along the wall.

"I really don't remember much," Dave confessed. "I remember looking up at him -- he was so tall! I remember seeing his nose hairs. Keep in mind, I was just a little tyke!"

Dave smiled at the recollection. Tiffany smiled with him.

"And I remember him taking me fishing," Dave continued. "I was so proud when I caught my first fish. He got the hook out for me and tossed the fish back in the water. But he took a picture of me with it first."

She waited, nodding, leaving enough silence to prompt him to continue as they walked.

"And I remember him bringing me a stocking full of candy and miniature toys one Christmas. He had it with him when we picked him up at the base. It was one of those pre-packaged net stocking things. I think he must have bought it at the canteen. That was on his last leave before his death. I remember it vividly."

"It sounds like he loved his son dearly," Tiffany managed to say, a catch in her throat.

"Yeah. I think he did, Tiff. We just didn't have enough time together. Not nearly enough."

"And what about your mom?"

"She did her best to raise my brothers and me. She never remarried -- at least she hasn't yet."

"And what about you, Dave?"

"What do you mean, Tiff?"

"How has losing your dad affected you?"

"That's a hard one to answer objectively."

"Sure, I know -- you can't step outside your own mind. But subjectively, what do you think?"

"It's made me hate war. And it's made me want to be a dad -- to give to a son or daughter what my dad was unable to give to me."

"What's that?"

"My TIME. That's one of the reasons I chose to be a teacher -- so I'd have the same time off school as my kids, so I can spend it with them. I also chose to be a teacher because I want to make a difference in the lives of other people's kids."

Tiffany already knew that she loved this man completely -- but now she it crossed her mind that she wanted to bear his children. "First things first," she told herself silently, "one step at a time. Work on a relationship and make sure it will last."

Aloud, she said, "I'm absolutely certain your dad would be proud of you."

Dave managed a smile. "I'm certainly proud of him..."

"Is there a memorial here in Washington for Gulf War veterans?" Tiffany asked.

"No, not here," Dave answered. "There's one in Cumberland, Maryland. It's called 'The Books of the Fallen'. Someday, I'm going to go there to see it. It's just in a strange location that's not a natural place to visit. Off the beaten path, so to speak."

Tiffany stopped and turned to Dave. "You need to go there," she said, "you need a chance to mourn your dad in the right place."

"Yes -- someday."

Tiffany hugged her man, then tilted her head up and gave him a tender kiss on the lips. "Someday soon," she said.

They continued to walk eastward and made their way past the Washington Monument, back toward the hotel. There, they had an early dinner and retired to their room for an evening of gentle lovemaking. They fell asleep, naked in each other's arms, and dreamt good dreams until the alarm went off the next morning.

* * * * *

Saturday morning, the final round of the National Chemistry Contest was set to begin at 9:00 AM back at "The Castle." Dave's nerves were not as frayed as they had been on Wednesday morning. He even finished a few more chapters in his Grisham novel.

Precisely at noon, Tiffany emerged from the exam room. "How'd you do?" asked Dave as they walked toward the cafeteria.

"Nailed it," Tiffany replied nonchalantly.

"Great! But, of course, I know about the curve and all..."

"Yeah, well, I did my best, anyway. I know you were worried about me not giving it my all. I can honestly say I took a prodigious swing of the bat, and I'm watching the ball to see if it clears the fence."

"Ah -- home run metaphor! Brings back fond memories from the Nats' game on Wednesday night..."

"So Werth is still your hero?" she laughed.

"Forever and always," smiled Dave, "he's responsible for me getting lucky at a major league baseball game."

"My hero's the guy running the 'Kiss Cam'," Tiffany teased.

Both their minds drifted to the Jumbotron at Nationals Park. It had been one mind-blowing experience indeed. What had been the odds they'd get caught on camera while orgasming together?

They found a table and sat down with their cafeteria food. Tiffany was the first to speak as they ate their lunch. "Dave, I've been thinking..."

"That could be dangerous."

"Well, yeah, maybe... I've been thinking about tonight being our last night in Washington."

"Yeah. Seems like the 'honeymoon' was too short."

"It'll be okay," she said, "we can continue the honeymoon when we get back. But I was thinking -- it would be nice to go out with a bang, so to speak."

"Holy shit, Tiff -- you're not suggesting a gang bang, are you?"

Tiffany erupted into a fit of giggles. "No, silly," she virtually shrieked in mirth, "I just thought we should leave Washington with one last special memory. Just the two of us, and a bunch of onlookers."

"You must be talking about picking up your trophy at the National Chemistry Contest -- and the applause you'll get from the crowd at tonight's awards banquet."

"Actually, I was thinking about something special AFTER the banquet. There may or may not be applause from a crowd..."

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours, Tiff?" Dave inquired.

"You know how much of a rush it's been doing our deeds in near-public places and nearly getting caught..."

"I seem to recall a train, a pool and hot tub, a gym, a major league baseball game, the Lincoln Memorial..."

"You make us sound like rabbits, Dave!" Tiffany gasped.

"Exhibitionist rabbits," Dave corrected.

"Well, we didn't actually DO IT at the gym..."

"No, but those workout boys got an eyeful of beautiful ass and thigh. And we sure got our rabbit on right afterward back in the room..."

"Okay, Dave -- you made your point." She stuck out her lower lip and lowered her lashes.

"But I ENJOYED every minute, every venue -- and the fact that we didn't get arrested," said Dave. "It gives a whole new meaning to the oft-used phrase 'the antics in Washington'..."