There's a New Teacher in Town Ch. 02

He moved it in and out, slowly and carefully, taking his time. He wiggled it, stimulating the nerves gathered at the opening of my anus.

"MMMMmmmmmmmmmm, yes, Kevin, so nice..."

A second finger entered my backside, then a third. Discomfort mingled with the pleasure. As these strange new sensations flooded my body, I began to focus on what he had said earlier. Was he really going to fuck my ass? I had never done it; most of my college girlfriends thought it bearable, a few swore by it. My husband had never asked. If there was ever a time to try it, it was now; my body was so limp I wondered if I still had bones. I was curious and I would be protecting my daughter.

I had also lost, to be honest, the power to say no to him. He could have me however he wanted.

I tipped my ass up, tendering it to him. My voice dreamy, I said, "Its my first time too, be careful."

Although my arms were weary, I reached back and pulled my ass-cheeks apart. The absurdity of the moment snuck into my brain. Here I was, sprawled across my kitchen counter, my husband sleeping upstairs, offering my anal cherry to one of my students, who was also my daughter's boyfriend. My husband could be climbing out of bed right now, my daughter could be pulling into the driveway. When I imagined them stumbling in on the scene I felt a new eruption of need between my legs.

Kevin was in no hurry. He was transferring pussy juice to my anus when he spotted an open butter dish. With two fingers he coated the anal aperture with the butter and then pushed some inside me with his index finger. The fire my orgasm had extinguished was reborn, burning hot, consuming my flesh. I tried to relax, but as his finger moved in and out of my backside I began humping the counter. My asshole twitched open and shut. I found I could control the movement, biting down on Kevin's finger. I looked back. He was staring at my asshole. Was its pink virginity enticing?

He moved my hands from my asscheeks, replacing them with his own. Spreading me apart, he traced his tongue in a tiny circle around my anus. I shivered, moaned, "Yesss...," and pushed back. I captured the juice dripping from my cunt and stroked my clitoris.

Kevin stood. His tongue was gone: my asshole spasmed; I groaned in disappointment. He carefully coated his cock with the butter. My asshole spasmed again and I felt butter drip down my anal crevice; I must have forced some of it out. One of Kevin's fingers pressed at my asshole and it moved inside gently, easily, forcing more lubricant inside me. He rimmed my anus with his fingertip. The feeling was exquisite, but I needed more. I wanted him inside me.

"It's time Kevin, please, now."

He fit his cock to my anus. There was some resistance, less than I expected, before my ring muscle yielded and his cock head entered me. Still, more from the anxiety than any pain, I gasped. Slowly, carefully, he moved inside, gliding forward bathed in the lubricant his cock forced down my rectum. Soon he was all the way in, his hips against my butt cheeks.

I can't say it didn't hurt, but at the same time I felt pleasure radiating from places I would not have imagined possible. I loved the feeling of being stuffed full of his meat.

I turned my head. "Give me a second." I lay there, focusing my mind on the sensations emanating from my asshole. I manipulated my muscles, squeezing down on him. I hadn't even noticed I'd stopped working my clitoris until his hand replaced mine.

Then I heard the upstairs shower. My husband was up.

Kevin spoke before I did. "How long are his showers?"

"Ten minutes. On the weekends, closer to fifteen, twenty."

"Good, we have time."

He began to ream my ass, slowly, sensually. He did not plunge in and out, but moved an inch or two, letting me adjust but still stimulating my anal channel. I slid my left hand down my body, covering Kevin's as he worked my wet cunt.

The momentary depression in my libido caused when my husband woke up was gone, replaced by the depravity of being ass-fucked in the kitchen while he was upstairs. I felt a connection to the boy behind me. He had plumbed a part of me I hadn't know existed. Whatever the future held, I was giving him something I'd never shared with anyone. Our bodies were perfectly in tune; I looked back at him; we watched each other's faces; we breathed together. The feeling in my asshole was one of pure pleasure.

Then the perfect moment crashed. My husband yelled down the steps.

"Honey, where are my golf shoes?"

I pushed myself up from the counter. In a voice strained with sexual delight, I responded, "In the master closet."

Then to my lover, "We better hurry."

Kevin took hold of my hips and picked up the pace, moving with greater force but still employing short strokes. I pushed three fingers into my vagina, honing in on the g-spot. I had gotten lots of practice masturbating over the past few weeks; I knew how to control the pace, letting the pleasure build in ever-increasing surges. I trapped my clit against my body with my thumb. My tits swung back and forth in time with the motion of our bodies. Kevin started fucking me in longer and longer thrusts; the pressure cooker inside me heightening each time he plunged inside me. I let out short gasps of breath with each thrust, "Huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh..."

And then another crazy damn fool question bellowed from the tops of the stairs.

"Honey, where are my golf shirts?"

I was so damn close. I was gasping for air. If I let go, if I yelled a response to my husband, I'd be unable to stop screaming. I muttered loud enough for Kevin to hear, "Hall closet."

"Mr. Huff, its Kevin, she said in the hall closet."

I loved this. I twisted my head around and put on my most wanton look.

"Is this what you dreamed about, fucking your teacher up the ass, putting your big cock in her tush?"

I had always been a good girl. It was thrilling to say those words, to feel this boy's cock in my ass, stretching my hole like it had never been stretched before. Kevin seemed surprised; he looked at me with his open mouth, amazed at my words. Then he picked up the pace.

"Ahhh."

My ass was so wet, so hot, on fire, burning.

"Ahhhh..."

It felt as if a steel rod was driven into me.

"Ohhhh..."

My mind reeled with pleasure. "Ahhhh..." I couldn't stand it anymore. Kevin's cock and my fingers had me on the edge. The thought that my daughter's boyfriend, my student, was ass-fucking me in the kitchen while my husband roamed about upstairs looking for a shirt was aphrodisiacal. My belly tightened; it was a great coiled spring and it and then I exploded, the orgasm rattling through my being. My convulsing ass clamped down like a vise and I shoved back onto his dick. Kevin's cock penetrated the deepest cavities of my rectum and a deep short grunt erupted from his solar plexus. His cum poured into my asshole. I tried, and failed, to muffle the sound of my own delight, "Uuuunnnnnhhhhhhhh..."

"Is everything okay?" There were footsteps on the stairs.

Kevin stepped back. His prick slid from my asshole. I lay face down on the counter, unable to function. Kevin pulled up his shorts. "Don't worry, I'll handle it."

He left the kitchen.

"Nothing to worry about sir. I was helping Mrs. Huff rearrange some pots and pans and dropped a heavy iron skillet on her hand. She's got ice on it now, sir."

"Kevin, what are you doing here?"

He told my husband the story, drawing it out, making him laugh at the thought of Ivy and Julie getting up early on a Saturday morning to complete a school assignment. By the time Bruce got to the kitchen I had a washcloth filled with ice pressed to a non-existent injury. Kevin's cum, leaking from my ass, joined the juice from my cunt and dripped down my leg. I had enough time to clean it off, but I did not want to waste the chance to stand next to my husband with my thighs coated with the detritus of my infidelity. My face, still flushed, was unnoticed by a not particularly attentive man with his mind on golf.

I excused myself to go upstairs and shower. By the time I got back downstairs my husband was gone and Julie and Ivy had arrived. Julie was making goo-goo eyes at Kevin. Lucky girl, I thought.

"Mom, you sure do look good this morning. Good night's sleep?"

It's amazing what a post-orgasmic glow can do for a woman's looks.