tagFirst TimeBetter Late Than Never

Better Late Than Never

byTara_Neale©

Please note: While this story is set at a high school homecoming, all characters are adults over the age of 18. The writer is a big fan of whatever happens between consenting adults. Key word...adults. Enjoy...

***

Gayle Armstrong watched the teenagers mingle about the high school gymnasium. It was decorated from top to bottom in the school colors. The band began to play as someone shouted out. "Here they come!" The chant turned into a deafening roar as the winning football team filed into the room followed by their cheerleader girlfriends.

It all brought back such unpleasant memories for Gayle. Glutton Gayle, they had called her, all through out her high school years. At size sixteen even back then, she had not had a single date during all four years of high school. Instead she had lost herself in books, cheap romance novels that she picked up cheap at yard sales mostly. But then thanks to her English Lit teacher, she had discovered the classics, Bronte and Austin.

By the time she graduated high school, she had taken up writing and won several local poetry contests. It was enough to land her a scholarship to college in the state capitol, where she studied literature and got her teaching certificate. She had stayed in the big city for the next five years, teaching high school there.

Then her grandmother's arthritis worsened to the point that she needed assistance to continue living on her own. Gayle could not refuse the woman's pleas to come home, not when her grandmother had taken her in after her parents' nasty divorce. She had been lucky that the same English teacher who had ignited her love of books was more than ready to retire, moving to warmer Florida to be closer to her daughter and grandchildren.

Which is how she found herself in the middle of homecoming. Ten years late perhaps, but homecoming nonetheless. She adjusted the top of her maroon cocktail dress. Even after three years at her smaller size eight, she still sometimes did not recognize herself in the mirror. Tonight especially. Her long blond hair flowed out of the chiffon on top of her head, framing her face in soft curls. Thankfully, she had not allowed her old friend Tricia to go overboard with the make-up.

But the way this dress clung to each curve made her uncomfortable in her new body. And the slit up the side most definitely went to high, she could tell that from the way her grandmother had cleared her throat when she came down the stairs.

"Hey, Miss Armstrong," smiled Dwayne Jackson, his arm wrapped about his girl friend Charlotte.

Gayle smiled at the young couple, who were among her favorite students. "Good game, Dwayne," she congratulated him even though she knew almost nothing about football.

His smile widened, "I had to pull out all the stops after Big Bro got brought that college scout down just to see me play."

She frowned, "Big Bro? As in your older brother Damian?" The guy had been in her class and unlike most of the other kids in her class, he had been reasonably kind to the fat, unfashionable teen, who lived with her elderly grandmother.

"Yeah, he's around here somewhere actually. Coach got him to talk to the team before the game and then asked him to chaperone tonight, keep us out of trouble," he winked at Gayle and leaned in for a deep kiss from his girlfriend.

She gave them a moment before clearing her throat and adding, "Yes, well, that sort of thing can led to trouble as well, you know."

Charlotte giggled, "We know. Like Romeo and Juliette."

"Or Tristan and Isolde," said the deep voice from over her shoulder. He was too close, so close that she could smell the clean, crisp after shave he wore, so close that she could feel the heat of his breath on her bare skin. If she leaned back even just a bit, she could fulfill every teenage fantasy she had ever had of being wrapped in those strong arms.

She jumped when his warm hands gripped her shoulders, turning her around to face him and drawing her into a tight embrace. "Little Gayle," he smiled as he brushed a kiss across her cheek. He pushed her back at arms length, his dark black eyes traveled from the top of her head to her too high heels. "I would say you were looking good. But that does not come close to covering it, girl. Fine," he stretched the word out, transforming it to multi-syllabic.

She allowed her eyes to do the same. The boy, who like her had been forced to wear hand me downs through out high school, now wore a tailor made suit that clung like second skin to a man's body. A professional athlete. "Same to you, Damien," she smiled as Charlotte lifted her brows and looked back and forth between them.

Dwayne frowned at his big brother, who just smiled. "Don't you remember me telling you about that girl I had a crush on in high school. The one that was too smart for me?"

Dwayne nodded, "You mean Miss Armstrong? Naw, man," he shook his head.

Damien nodded and held out his large hand, "I know it is ten years too late, but may I have the pleasure of this dance, Gayle?"

She nodded her head as he took her hand and led her onto the dance floor, where a slow song wrapped about them and dozens of other couples. Her mind went numb when he drew her into those arms. Pythons, wasn't that what they were called? Then she was pressed tightly against him, her breasts brushing against the soft silk of his suit, her legs entangled with his as he drew her hands up to rest on his shoulders.

How many times had she day dreamed about this? About him? About Damien Jackson. About the man, who was out of her league, who always had been. The man, who dated super models, not simple high school English teachers.

But this night he was holding her, holding her like she had dreamt of, holding her like he meant it. And she wanted to lose herself in the fantasy for the moment. She laid her head against his shoulder, inhaled him deep into her lungs, savored his smell, memorized it all those long, lonely nights that lay ahead. She felt like she was Cinderella and the clock would chime midnight at any moment.

As the song ended he drew back and stared down into her face, "Do you know how long I wanted to do that?"

She shook her head, confused. "What do you mean? You were the football star, popular, all the girls wanted you. I was just Glutton Gayle."

He chuckled, "No, sweetie, you were curvy. Thick. There's a difference. And yeah, I could get any girl I wanted back then." He brought her hand to his lips and caressed the back of it, he turned it palm up and licked slowly along her love line. "Except the one I wanted."

She shook her head in disbelief. "No, it can't be." But the look of lust she saw in his eyes stole her breath. Could it be true? Had she been so insecure back then she had not seen that Damien's kindness was more than being polite? She cried out as the pain hit her. She could have had it all, even back then.

She did not want to wallow in what she had missed out upon all those years ago. She wanted to grab onto this new happiness...for however long it might last. Even if for only one night, she wanted it all. She wanted to taste it with him.

She leaned in and pressed her mouth to his ear, "Where are you staying, Damien?"

He frowned and shook his head, "At my Mama's. So that won't get us anywhere."

She bit her lower lip as she moaned, "Yeah, I'm at Grandma's too."

A slow smile burst across his dark face, "Does teacher have keys to the building?"

She returned his smile as she nodded. "But we probably shouldn't be seen leaving together."

He winked, "Yeah, the kids might get the wrong idea, or the right one as the case maybe. Which room is yours?"

"Two-forty-one. English Lit," she said breathlessly. Was she really going to do this? With this man? How could she not? How could she pass up a second chance? She might never get another.

"All right, you go ahead. Tell them that you need to call your grandmother, check up on things. That should buy us twenty minutes or half an hour to make out a bit. I'll sneak away in a couple of minutes."

She nodded as she turned and practically ran breathlessly from the dance floor. She stumbled over the words as she made her excuses to friend, Trisha, who taught science now. She just shook her head and mumbled something about how Gayle would be the only one thinking of her grandmother when a hunk like that wanted to dance with her. She just smiled and floated away.

She fumbled with the keys to her classroom in the dim running lights of the hallway. She dropped them and cursed as she bent to pick them up. She jumped when she felt a hot hand trailing from her thigh up to the round curve of her bottom. Her fingers grasp at the key ring before he took it from her and opened the door.

The door was barely closed behind them when he drew her into his arms and his mouth captured hers. His hands laced through the hair at the base of neck, held her head in place as his lips moved over hers, slowly. Too fucking slow. So slow that she wanted to cry out in frustration. She wound her hands between them, began to push at his clothes.

He chuckled, "I wish we had that kind of time, Teach. But at most we have fifteen, maybe twenty minutes before someone begins to wonder what happened to one or both of us. I thought we would just make out a bit, exchanged numbers, arrange to hook up tomorrow. We both know that old man Russell's motel by the Interstate is out of the question. Unless you want your reputation ruined that is? But Greenville is only thirty miles away. I could pick you up tomorrow for lunch and we could have a couple of hours. A nice hotel too, big fluffy bed for me to have my wicked way with you."

"And what if I want you now? What if I don't want to wait until tomorrow? What if I don't give a damn about big fluffy beds?"

He arched his eyebrows, "Gayle, I want to wine and dine you. Not some quickie, hiding in your classroom."

She shook her head. Everything he said sounded great but why hold out for tomorrow what you could have tonight. She had waited too long. "Okay, how about this? A quickie here and now the way I want. Then tomorrow I'm all yours. Wine, dine, whatever you want."

He smiled, "Damn, woman, who can argue with logic like that?"

She tried to reach behind her for the zipper on her dress, but his hands covered hers. "Don't have time for that, sweetheart. Afraid tonight we're going to have to keep the clothes on or most of them," he licked his bottom lip as he reached up and untied the halter top of her dress. The moment he brushed the material aside his hands palmed each of her full breasts, his thumbs brushed across the tips until she moaned and began to shift from foot to foot as the pressure built between her legs.

"Please Damien," she moaned. He pushed her back until she felt the edge of her desk against her bottom. She leaned against it as he lowered his dark head. She was glad that she had it to hold her up when his scalding tongue wrapped around her nipple and he suckled it deep into his mouth. She collapsed back onto the solid surface as her world tilted on its axis.

Then she felt his hand on the inside of her thigh, he followed the slit up, higher and higher. His fingers came to rest over the scrap of lace that passed for underwear tonight. She arched into his touch, but then bit her lower lip. Should she say something? Would he notice? She had read so many stupid romance novels where the hero knew immediately that something was different. But the truth was that without the pesky hymen that she was not even sure she ever had, how could any man know? It was embarrassing, being a stereotypical old maid teacher, a virgin.

But not for long. She brushed aside her reservations as she opened her legs wider. She felt him step closer, the hard ridge of erection rubbed against the lace as he moaned around her nipple. Her hand slipped between them. She found the zipper on the front of his trousers, struggled for several long heart beats to pull it down as tightly as it was pressed against his cock. She smiled when she finally managed to slip her hand inside. It was she who groaned aloud as she touched his bare cock for the first time. She tugged it softly to free it from his pants, then she rubbed it back and forth across the front of her lace panties spreading the thick stickiness around the delicate pattern.

He pushed his hips forward wedging the tip of his cock at the apex of her thighs, igniting the flames in the tiny button that rested in its folds. Then one of his hand abandoned her tit, she whimpered and pouted for a moment until she felt it tugging at the side of her hips. "Lift that sweet ass, baby," he commanded as he pulled the barrier down her legs. It got stuck for a moment on her high heels, but he pulled it free and stuffed them into his jacket pocket. "Hope you didn't want those back, sweetie. I'm keeping them to remember this night by."

She chuckled as she scooted closer to the edge of the desk and closer to him. She wrapped her arms about his neck and looked up at him. "What will I wear the rest of the night?"

"Nothing. I want to think about you walking around without anything on," he said as he made slow circle with his hips, brushing the head of his thick cock back and forth across her tender flesh until her hips took up the dance, moving against him. Each time she arched up, he came tantalizing close to entering her, but he always drew back.

"Damn it, Damien. Stop playing around," she cursed as she arched up high and hard.

They both groaned aloud as the head of his cock breeched her virgin lips for the first time. His hands tightened their hold on her hips as he held still inside of her, "Damn, girl, you feel amazing. So fucking tight."

She whimpered as her body adjusted to the most delicious stretching and burning that she had ever imagined. "And you're so fucking huge."

He chuckled and his cock slipped inside her another inch or so, "Is that a compliment or a compliant?"

"That's going to depend on what you do with it for the next five minutes or so. Remember you want to impress me so I'll keep our date tomorrow."

He leaned forward and brushed a gentle kiss across the tip of her nose, "Most definitely want to impress you, sweetheart. Hold on, baby, cause if I have to wait until tomorrow I'm gonna make the next five minutes something we'll both dream about tonight."

And he did too. Moving in slow, teasing circles then picking up the pace, slamming into her hard and fast until her knuckles turned white where they gripped the edge of the desk and her lips were swollen from biting them to keep from crying out. But her world came apart at the seams when his rough calloused thumb started to draw slow circles around her throbbing clitoris. She was glad that his lips were covering hers as she cried out her orgasm. He swallowed her screams as he pounded harder and faster into her.

Then she felt him tense in her arms. Warm wetness flooded into her as he continued to move inside her in slow, short stabs. They clung together for a couple of moments. He drew back and kissed the end of her nose once more, "Did I impress you enough to warrant seconds? Tomorrow?"

She chuckled, "You know you did." They straightened their clothes. He pressed another tender kiss to her shoulder as he tied the halter top back in place. He pulled her dress down and carefully adjusting it so that no one would notice her missing underwear. Then he turned her in his arms and they exchanged cell phone numbers.

He slipped out first and blowing her a kiss from the doorway. She leaned against the desk, frowning as she felt the wetness trail down the inside of her leg. She knew that she should be worried, having unprotected sex her first time. It was something that one of her stupid students would do. Except she was a grown woman and she would handle whatever happened. She smiled, "Better late than never," she sighed as she stood up and snuck out of her classroom. At least she was no longer a twenty-eight year old virgin school marm.

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