It had been two days since the Friday sex incident in the classroom with Oliver.

I could not get all of the images and sensations out of my mind. Oliver’s body was overwhelming my thoughts to the point where my friend, Joyce, asked on the phone if I was distracted by something concerning. I had responded that I was 'ready to start' and that seemed to explain everything.

True, my period was days away, and that did affect my mood… sometimes, but this was more than my monthly cycle claiming clarity. This was lustful, sinful need. Like I was constantly simmering…

The past two nights, I had engaged Charlie in some very wild lovemaking. I was busy during the day, just thinking about it.

He chalked it up to me accepting his pregnancy plan (?) but not wanting to admit it. he was strutting about, feeling very masculine.

It was not the possibility of pregnancy. I was play-acting like I was turned on by how sexy he was. Not entirely untrue: it was another sexy face, body, and erection I was thinking of. My star student, Oliver Kelly, was invading my sex bed.

I could not help but compare their two phalluses. Saturday night, while stroking Charlie, I was afraid I had shown a brief disappointment with the realization that Oliver's was nicer, thicker, smoother…the penis of Oliver, my seventeen-year-old student!

Moments later, my legs were spread like a common harlot, and my husband was filling me with his ejaculate!

On Sunday, the third sex night in a row, I was so aroused by the thought of Oliver, I had used dirty talk, which I usually reserved for birthdays, anniversaries, and Valentines. Charlie's reaction was increased vigor that only served to bring me to climax sooner.

The "Oh Yes! Fuck me, Darling!" was not really about Charlie, but he didn't need to know that.

My guilt and shame over my thoughts only fueled me as I felt even more loose and sexy.

In the end, we both had a wonderful release and a romantic cuddle after. Charlie was softly praising my beauty and began to suck on my nipple. My body went rigid and my heart almost stopped! It felt almost exactly as it did when Oliver had suckled me in my classroom!

Afraid my face would show something, I pulled away and rolled over.

"What happened? Was I too hard or something?" my loving husband quietly inquired.

I was breathing heavily, but took a moment to calm myself. I took his hand and brought it around my waist to encourage him to spoon. "No, darling, you just wore me out, and I have school tomorrow."

He smiled and kissed my cheating shoulder, and we fell asleep naked without cleaning up.

I was torn between not wanting him to see my face and being emotionally exhausted. I’m sure he just thought I was sexually worn out.

Little did he know...

***

Monday found a strangely content and excited MaryAnn Lemont sporting a pair of tan slacks with a matching vest. My new light-yellow blouse had a large orange and red leaf print. The early autumn look read sexy yet still stylishly professional.

I noticed that a few more of the boys were looking at my backside in the hallway (it was cute, Mr. Clark, the Chemistry teacher). The attention was making me blush and tingle below. I held out a brazen hope that Oliver would have the same reaction.

Oh no! You are dressing sexy for the young man! Hopeless!

Sixth period finally arrived, and the students filed in. "Bonjour, Madame" repeatedly rang out and I gathered myself.

"Ecoutez, s'il..." My voice trailed off as I saw that Oliver's seat was empty. Oh no! After pining for him all weekend, having more than one climax at the thought of him, he was out ill? I gained control and proceeded with the lesson, introducing vocabulary around shopping. I had them work on creating small narrations about going to "le supermarché."

Fifteen minutes in, the door opened and in walked the object of my inappropriate infatuation. Oliver looked a bit flushed; his usually wavy hair was a bit more disheveled, and I thought perhaps he really was ill. He handed me a pass from the nurse's office. The potentially maternal side I had shown him last week rose up to show concern, but a flash of arousal passed between us as our fingers grazed. Such a confusing morass, yet I had to persevere.

His delivery was flawless. "Excusez-moi, Madame, je ne me sentais pas bien." (Excuse me, Madame, I wasn't feeling well)

"Allez-vous mieux maintenant?" (Are you feeling better now?)

"Oui, bien. Merci."

I smiled and proceeded with the lesson taking great concentration to not focus and or linger on the handsome young, introspective soul. I even had to pinch my leg through my slacks to regain focus. Why don’t women’s pants have pockets? Ridiculous.

Still, desire trumped common sense.

The bell rang, and as the children exited, I called out, "Olivier, attendez, s'il vous plais." (Wait, please) The other students voiced a chorus of "Ohhh!" rising in pitch. Olivier was in trouble for being late.

I playfully admonished the group thought. "Vite, vite! Allez-vous. " (quickly, get going, all of you!)

As the room emptied, I waited at the door. As soon as they were clear, I closed it with purpose. What I can only imagine as heated libido of a teen in hormonal overload drove Oliver to rush me for an embrace.

"STOP!' I whisper-yelled, surprising him. He did just that and blushed. Like three days ago, I grabbed his hand and led him to the corner away from the sight of the door and window. Resistance was not an option as I immediately embraced him in a hot kiss that had been seventy-two hours in the slow cooker. It was passionate, tongue-filled, and hum-inducing. Four hands caressed and kneaded with purpose. It was splendid!

He was so warm I was nearly overcome.

Oliver slid his hand from ribcage to breast and squeezed. I moaned but then grabbed his hands and pulled back.

"Oh wow..." I panted. "You are so...wonderful, but we have to stop." He looked to complain, and I pushed on. "We cannot do this here. It is too risky." His eyebrows went up.

He hopefully asked, "Then where?"

I took a deep breath. I knew what I was about to do was completely insane. Add the fact that it was not spur of the moment, and my journey towards infidelity became inevitable.

I pulled a small strip of paper from my vest pocket and purposefully laid it in his palm. "This is my address and phone number. The latter is only if things go awry. You call and hang up after one ring. I will know it was you." He nodded as if we were in the French Resistance moving on an enemy target. Boys…

I continued, not shying away from the same energy. "Bike over after school. I should be there by four o'clock. Can you get away?"

"Um, sure! I'll tell my mom I'm going to Jimmy's to play basketball, which happens all the time. And he lives on the next block, so, rad."

"Good, okay...now this is really important. Come in through the back-alley gate. No one will notice. I'll have the back door open."

He nodded and then softly laughed. "Wow, Madame. You must really want to - "

I shushed him because he was right, and for some reason, I did not want him to say it out loud as if some type of spell might be broken.

"Go, get to class." I turned him and patted his rump. He raised his eyebrows. "ALLEZ!"

He ran off, and I slumped against the wall, my hand warm from touching him. I whispered, "Pas de retour en arrière, maintenant!" (No turning back now)

It was done. I had invited another man to my home for sex.

Shock and worry were shoved out of the way by desire and passion…spiced with a smidgen of a letdown as he hadn’t said anything about my outfit.

***

After rushing home, risking a speeding citation, I headed inside and removed my heels and vest. Following a plan that had been crafted earlier today, I went to the guest room and put a sheet over the duvet. Less to have to change, I reasoned. I pulled the shade and the curtains and double-checked that the facial tissue box was full. I anticipated he was going to be a bit messy. The thought gave me a shiver.

I was about to take the kitchen phone off the hook so calls would not interrupt, when I remembered telling Oliver to call if he couldn't make it. Or did I say if things went awry? I went to use the bathroom once more to make sure my bladder was empty and my breath was fresh. The wipe gave me chills, showing evidence of a seriously slickening sex.

I checked my hair in the mirror, then sighed as I looked into the eyes of an adulteress. A soon-to-be very happy adulteress. I set my brush down and caught a shimmer. I paused and stared at my green eyes in the mirror. This truly was the biggest moment so far. I removed my rings and placed them on the holder near the soap dish.

I whispered, "I'm so sorry, Charlie, but I must know..."

My heart jumped when I heard the back door open. I barefoot padded to the kitchen and there he was, sexier than ever, just closing the door. He looked Tour de France sweaty. I wanted him very badly.

"Uh, hi..." he sighed.

"Hi..." I said with an equal amount of ache. I went to the sink and filled a glass at the tap. "Here, have some cool water.”

He took a big gulp. "Ahhh, thanks...Nice place. It's very...you."

I made a funny face.

"My mom always says that when we go to someone's house. I don't even know what it means."

I laughed and took the glass, taking a sip before putting it in the sink with my lipstick on the rim. I thought that was really sexy, hoping he agreed. "It means she doesn't have something nice to say, so she says something undefinable that sounds nice."

He laughed. "Yep, that's my mom..."

The truck's wide silence was deafening, but the rush of my heartbeat in my ears did its best to fill it.

"Madame, I am really happy to be here, but I'm kind of...."

I felt a pang of empathy. "Nervous? me too. It's okay." I took his hand and pulled him to me; my breath accelerated.

He went on, choking a bit from my proximity. It was adorable. "I was gonna say...worried. I've never...done it before. You know, sex - well, fu - I mean, intercourse."

I gasped with an overwhelming rush of pure love and joy washing over me!

Oh my, I will be his first!

I flashed on my first time with Devon Larabie after prom and quickly dismissed the lackluster, condom-fumbling memory. I was the same age as Oliver is now.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he took my waist. "Then we must make it especially memorable."

The kiss began soft, then quickly melted into passionate fire, followed by noisy heat. My manicured hands rubbed his scalp and his shoulders. He took hold of my hips and then squeezed my bottom, eliciting a squeal shot into his mouth.

I pulled off with a gasp, the heat between my legs growing exponentially with each kiss. He moved down my jaw and began kissing and licking my neck. He was being quite aggressive when I grabbed his curly hair.

“Careful, my darling, you cannot leave a mark!” I managed to get out between gasping breaths. He was moving down to the place I had hoped he would explore. When he reached my cleavage, I held his shoulders. He took a deep breath as if trying to absorb all of me at once.

I took to the buttons on my blouse and quickly undid them. It fell off my body and hung to my shoulders. He took hold of my bra-encased breasts, squeezing them with teenage lust. A bit harder than i liked, but I gave into his energy. Any doubts and trepidations I may have had melted in into the mouth on my sloping flesh. His nibbles and sucks and licks felt unrestrained, ravenous. He wanted me as much as I wanted him, and that made all the difference.

Yeah, I was still a grown-up, still the instructor. I pulled his head up, kissed his forehead in another deeply maternal gesture. Taking him by the hand, I led him into the bedroom like it was a sacred temple. Before turning around, I dropped my blouse onto the chair nearby. I seductively unhooked my bra and let it fall forward. I tilted my head slightly in invitation, and my young lover walked forward. His hands slid around my waist and cupped my round, feminine fullness under the loosened fabric. The moment was sensual and unforgiving, and I moaned in forbidden ecstasy as his mouth returned to kissing my neck.

A small “Oh, yes,” escaped when I realized he had removed his shirt. His tight, hairless chest was pushed against my supple back.

The heat was extraordinary.

His teenaged enthusiasm needed a bit more romantic refinement, but I loved it. “Your tits are so amazing.” He was now caressing both of my nipples, exploring their rubbery texture, trying to read my areola as if they hid a message in braille. The teacher held the student’s hands, wanting to guide his exploration.

I turned my head, and we met in another fiery kiss. I encouraged his right hand, and it slid down my belly to the waist of my slacks. In tandem, we unhooked the clasp on my left hip and slid the zipper down.

I arched, my pants beginning to slide down, the air attempting to cool the unconsummated heat between my thighs. I gripped his shoulders and placed my forehead against his; a pause to breathe it all in.

This sin was immeasurable. This lust, unbridled. This desire, unstoppable.

“I want you to make love to me, you beautiful b - young man! I want you to give me everything you can for the short time we are here together. I know this is terribly wrong, but I cannot stop myself!”

I read that I was causing his teenage sexual fantasy to race by. He had to be careful about how much pressure he put on the accelerator.

“I’m ready.”

He had already unbuckled his jeans, and he pushed them down his hips, taking his white briefs with. His erection sprang up and tapped his lower belly; a driblet of anticipatory lubrication landed just below his navel.

I moaned as I took in the beautiful view. “Indeed, you are,” I whispered in smiling lust.

I turned and began to lower my slacks, leaving my panties in place. I stepped out of them and heard an appreciative moan from my young lover. I had a very round and sensuous backside that an ex-boyfriend, an art major, once called a Titian painting come to life. I was proud of my physical assets and had secretly enjoyed the looks from my students over the years. All of those naughty forbidden thoughts had all collided in this moment.

I turned, and without breaking eye contact, wrapped my hands around his throbbing protrusion. I stroked it several times and he shook as if electrical shocks were coursing through his body because essentially they were.

"Oh, Olivier! C'est très dur pour moi!" (it's very hard for me)

"Oui, Madame. Je ne... I... don't know what I should call you..."

I smiled at his sweet innocence. "Madame is perfect, as I intend to teach you a few things." I slid my hand up and off his erection with a snap.

He gulped and let out a ragged breath. I giggled and lay myself across the sheet that topped the bed. Considering the moisture from my vagina and his potential expulsion, this fabric precaution felt like the right thing. I made to remove my panties and he called out. "Wait! Can...I do it?"

I closed my eyes to try to absorb the other senses of this moment. I nodded and felt the bed shift. Soon his hands were on the waistline, and he was pulling down. I lifted to assist.

"Oh my god...." he sighed in reverent adoration.

I opened my legs at an angle to give him an unfettered view. I loved how Charlie admired my body. He was always complimentary and appreciative. Yet I was never motivated to wantonly display my needing vulva like something from a French pulp magazine.

Avec Olivier, I wanted to be free, unchecked...obscene.

A tentative hand lay on my left thigh. The boy needed encouragement. "Continue, Monsieur."

He slid up with a touch, absorbing every moment for replay. When he reached my heat, she pushed my mound up in reflex as well as invitation. He ran his fingers down and then up. He parted my already swollen and widening lips and gasped at the moisture therein.

It was unreal! I shuddered and asked, "Your first?"

He began to stroke, but he shook his head. "My girlfriend let me..." He suddenly blanched as if he had said the wrong thing.

My heart swelled even more for him, if that was even possible. "It's okay that you have a girlfriend, Chère. I am not exactly single, am I?"

He shrugged a goofy smile and pushed his fingers into my hungry hole. I yelped and bucked off the bed, orgasm not quite arriving but just blocks away.

He was methodical in his exploration, pulling out and pushing in as I clenched and flexed. He stared at my now fully aroused sex and tried to focus, embarrassingly unsure. This was not a Penthouse Letter come to life anymore. This was uncharted.

I sensed his dilemma and took his other hand, not wanting his fingers out anytime soon. "This is my clitoris." I introduced his index finger to my pearly nub. "It provides women with their most intense sensations. Circle it gently, then firmly press. That's how I like it. But every woman will be - AHH!" I nearly went off as he showed remarkable first-time skills.

He pulled away, "Are you okay?"

I shook with the excitement of not really having to teach him anything. "More than...allez, s'il vous plaît..."

He went back to using both hands, and I was soon past the point of no return. As it began to peak, I grabbed his head and nearly slammed him into my breast. The act that started it all was taking on new meaning for us as lovers. He sucked with fervor, my student, my new lover.

Lover...Yes...

"YESSS!" I nearly screamed as my body stiffened and I exploded. White light seared my vision as I fell into a pleasure that had to be the greatest ever experienced; neither my husband nor past lovers could replace this star pupil.

I fell back to Earth, my eyes watery, skin sweaty, breath panting. The sweet thing was a silent portrait; disbelief painted on him with a few strokes of fear. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him on top of me, our mouths fusing once more.

There was no more foreplay. No more anticipation nor seduction. Only surrender.

I positioned him between my open thighs and reached down to grasp his prick. "Es-tu prêt?” (Are you ready?)

He nodded, then his eyes went wide. "Don't I need a …r..rubber?"

I shook my head and smiled, and he realized I was on the pill like many adult women.

“Rad…”

The tip of his penis brushed my hairy labia, and we both moaned. He was ready to storm my gate.

I had one more moment of guilt, which dissipated as he pushed into me.

Oliver held his breath, his brain trying to feel everything as intensely as the heat that engulfed him.

He sank in slowly and I was soon feeling my open lips on his fuzzy pelvis.

I had been holding my breath, but was slowly hissing it out as he sank in. The power and pulse of his prick was a sensory feast. I had never felt like this; even the first time ...um...my husband had fucked me was not this pleasurable. I grunted as my breath returned, and I ran my hands up and down his back.

"Oh my god, you feel amazing, Chére."

He whispered, “Time to be a man,” probably thinking only he could hear it. He pulled back out and pushed in. The sensations transported me to places never imagined. The wet grasp of my muscles spoke to my desperation.

“Yes, yes, my sweet darling. You fill me up so beautifully. You are doing so well. Keep that steady rhythm when y- ungh! Try to lift up just a - oh- little bit. Oui! Baise moi!” ( Fuck me).

Oliver nodded with determination not to disappoint. He flexed his strong hips and followed my direction. He touched someplace deep and unexpected. I shook, and my legs clamped tightly around his. My fingers dug into the flesh of his butt, and I pray I didn’t leave any marks. But not very sincerely.

Not wanting to slow down, he decided it was time to let go. He began to move faster with more determination. Rather than try to crank up, he decided to move about as much as possible. The gyration of his hips hit me in places never expected, and I laughed at the delight of it all.

“Mon Dieu ! Oui, oui, Olivier!” (My god! Yes, yes!)

I almost never spoke French in bed with Charlie. For some reason, he had never shown interest in my life’s work nor wanting to speak it with me. How was the school teacher who taught a foreign language. Not exactly high finance.

To be able to express this essential part of me and give it to Olivier somehow made the cheating seem more acceptable.

My next climax was tremors about to erupt. The way he was moving and the strength of his thrusting would soon send me over the summit.

With Charlie, one was pretty common, too, was very rare. Olivier sensed it as well, and my unconscious clenching became more aggressive, even purposeful. Nature had designed this moment, and neither one of us was going to deny it

With a loud grunt and a sweet apology, “I’m so sorry! Oh my God! AHHH!” Oliver flexed his entire body as the biggest orgasm of his life ripped through him like an electric shock!

The hard gushes of his teen seed filled me, splashing against my cervix. The washing felt symbolic and precious and wanton all at once. My orgasm curled my toes, shot up my thighs, and cascaded down my reproductive system, sending the gushes of his semen splashing in places never before affected by previous sexual encounters.

I saw fireworks, bright lights, flashes. My spine unraveled, and my breath was taken. This is what every human since the dawn of time had hoped for with a sexual act: complete and total ecstatic euphoria.

Oliver was done, and he collapsed forward, trying not to put all of his weight on me.

I wrapped my arms and legs around him and pulled him tight. Our sweaty skin seemed to melt and fuse. This wasn’t heaven; this was Nirvana.

I never wanted to let him go. The feeling was so complete: Sexual satisfaction and the strangest sense of maternal gratification.

After a few moments of breathing and soft moans, I stroked the back of his head. “Well, for your first time, I would say you get more than an A+." He laughed softly. "That was divine, mon chère.”

He kissed my skin and confessed, “I had imagined it, of course. I just never thought anything could feel this good.”

The sweet, deeply emotional, and introspective young man, was actually tearing up slightly. The expression made me love him even more. I started internally. Was I in love with this young man?

Oh, MaryAnn… get a grip!

At least in this moment, I could love him. I took both sides of his head and kissed him with passion, sweetness, and care.

“I think we'd better get cleaned up and send you on your way. Your mother will be curious, and I need to prepare dinner for my…”

Oliver suddenly looked sober, as if suddenly remembering I was married. It felt a bit cruel to break the spell, but I needed to be the adult.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

He did not want to, but he lifted his body up, and his now softening erection wetly slid out of me. I whimpered at the loss.

He sat back on his knees and took a moment to witness the gush of his white seed coming out of me. His affect was pure satisfaction, dusted with disbelief.

Soon we were in the bathroom, and he was taking a quick shower. I chose to forgo climbing in with him, knowing I probably could not resist having another sordid coupling. Perhaps even allowing him to take me from behind.

I had washed up at the sink and carefully put fresh casual clothes on. I wanted to make sure I didn’t leave any mess, but also did not want to rid myself of his fertile deposit…not quite yet.

Fertile…the most perverse feeling so far slammed into my heart as I suddenly was not against pregnancy. I really had slipped into amoral territory.

Now standing in the kitchen again, we held hands and looked at one another with silly, sweet expressions. I felt slightly giddy as if I had just gotten her first kiss. He was grinning like the hound who caught the fox because that’s exactly what had happened.

“I suppose I’ll just see you tomorrow…” he said with just a little bit of sadness creeping in.

“Yes,” I said, then looked a little bit more serious than before. “I hope you don’t mind that I remind you once again, you cannot tell a soul about this. Not a best friend, a brother, nor a sister… No one can ever know.”

He straightened up slightly and took my hand and kissed it. I was surprised by such a gallant gesture.

“You have my word.” And he kissed my lips once more. He kissed me. He took what he felt was his to take. And I melted at his moment of strength and dominance.

After he left, I stood at the door, watching the empty backyard for a moment, almost wishing he would return. I closed the door and quickly removed the soiled sheet from the bed. I flattened the duvet, making sure there was no evidence anywhere. I tossed the sheet with a few of the towels he had used into the washer. Returning to the kitchen, I washed my hands, took a deep breath, and began to make dinner.

Tomorrow, I would do my best to pretend nothing happened. All the while, I would be planning the next time and position I was going to take him, or rather, he would take me.

In that moment, I had not yet realized that my rings still sat on the dish in the bathroom.

To be continued….

Thank you for reading the next chapter of this exciting love story. If you liked it, please hit the heart. If you really liked it, clean yourself up, and then hit the star.

And please leave a comment, I try to respond to them all

Peace, Matt