Every Monday After School

"Oh fuck, yes."

"Well, maybe next time," Mrs. Taylor laughed. "We don't have time today. You need to cum, Jonah."

"I want to."

"Do you want to see me? Would that help?"

"Yes. It would. I want to see you. All of you."

"We don't have time for all of me, dear. Pull the top of my dress down, Jonah. I busy here. I don't want to stop."

She was busy caressing my cock, stroking the shaft and rolling her palm over the head, her finger still probing its way into me.

I slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders and slid it down, exposing her pink satin push up bra, I knew it was pink, somehow I knew it would be pink.

"Keep going, Jonah. Unhook my bra."

"I reached around to her back, fumbling for the hooks.

"In the front, dear."

"Sorry."

"It's okay. Get it off. Hurry, Jonah."

Her milky white breasts spilled out, the nipples ripe and rosy red. She adjusted her position on the bed so my cock was pointed at her chest.

"That's it. Now cum on me. Spray it all over my tits, Jonah. I want you to."

"Oh my god. Help me. I so much want to."

"Do it then. Close your eyes. Feel it. Your cock, Jonah. Feel it pulsating in my hand. Think of my nipples, Jonah and my cunt. . .my cunt. . . cum for me. I want to see it. . . all over me, cum for me Jonah, cum now, right now. . ."

"I'm trying."

I couldn't believe I hadn't cum yet. I wanted to. I wanted to show her. Shower her tits in white cream. It was close though. It was building. It was getting ready to gush.

Before I could cum she leaned down and took me in her mouth. Her full red lips sucked on the head of my cock. I was finally cumming and Mrs. Taylor was taking all of it, my cock deep into her throat, my orgasm releasing into her in waves, spurt after spurt, and she took every drop.

I thought for a second I glimpsed white glaze oozing from her lips, but she took a quick breath and slurped it away. I was clean now with only the wetness from her lips and red traces of lipstick on my cock. She finished by licking the underside of my shaft and kissing the purple head, five sweet little kisses, I counted every one, and then one final suck, hard and hungry with her tongue pressed against the tip.

Mrs. Taylor used her hands on my chest to push herself up and away so that once again she was sitting at my side.

"How do I look?" she asked.

"Awesome. You look awesome," I said. "I love your nipples. They're so puffy. I knew they would be. I could tell."

"No, Jonah," Mrs. Taylor laughed. "My lipstick. Is it smeared?"

She traced above one side of her upper lip with her forefinger and then the other side. With her ring finger she dabbed below her lower lip.

"They look perfect. Nothing at all wrong with your lips," I told her.

"No smudges then?"

"Nope, just. . . less color than before. Maybe not as red."

"Before?"

"You know. . . earlier." I said.

"Oh, you mean before the blowjob?" she asked matter-of-factly.

I felt myself blushing.

"You mean, before you made me suck on your cock?"

She was nodding, like she was replaying the whole thing over in her head and wanted me to agree with this new version.

"What? . . . Made you? No, Mrs. Taylor, please don't say that."

I didn't get it, she was sounding so serious, like I had forced her to do something she never would have done.

"I didn't have a choice, dear. You were taking forever. I didn't think you were ever going to squirt. Then I felt it happening and I realized what a mess you make with that dick of yours. I can't always be cleaning up after you, can I?"

"No. Of course not."

I agreed with her. I can clean up after myself. No problem. I've done it a thousand times.

She looked at me and smiled. Her brown eyes sparkled into mine. But there was a glare to them as well. I felt a definite, reproachful glare.

"First off, I'm teasing you, Jonah. I loved every inch of you. You have a beautiful big cock. But this was all your doing. You know that, right? I would never do this on my own. I'm not that kind of woman. To take advantage of you like that."

"No. Anyway, you didn't. Take advantage. . . I'm sorry, Mrs. Taylor. I didn't mean for this to happen. Not like this."

"Okay, then." She patted my shoulder. "Now hurry and get dressed. Then come upstairs. We have to settle on things before Jason gets home."

When I got upstairs there was a plate of cookies on the kitchen table.

"Sit down, Jonah. Have a cookie."

"Thank you. They smell great. The cookies, I mean."

She sat down across the table and pushed the plate toward me.

"We're in this together now," she began. "We're accomplices. Partners in crime."

"Crime?"

"Adultery, Jonah."

"Oh. . ."

I started eating my cookie. It gave me a reason to not say anymore.

"Yes, exactly. Oh is right. Now, if we stopped here, without ever having intercourse, we might be able to excuse ourselves."

"I see what you mean. Blowjobs don't count." I nodded.

I definitely could see her argument. My last blowjob was from Cassie, a very cute, petite and perky-breasted cheerleader at my school. She told me I was her fifth blow of the year, but that it was cool, it didn't mean anything, she just wants to make guys she likes cum for her. The point is, we were not even dating, so blowjobs are not always a serious thing, that giving them or getting them is not something to get all worked up over and feel guilty about.

"They count, Jonah. Of course they count," Mrs. Taylor said.

I was nodding along once again. She was making another good point. It's not like I don't have solid opinions of my own, but I could see how an intimate act like sucking on a guy's cock should count for something.

What the hell, who am I kidding? Whatever Mrs. Taylor wanted to say, I was ready to agree with her.

"What I'm trying to say, dear, is that what we did today matters very much, at least to me, but it could also be seen as an accidental indiscretion, and if it were to never happen again, well, we could just go on with our lives."

"Pretend it never happened?"

"Yes, we could do that. Or, if you want, next Monday we could spend even more time together. Do you want to come here again next Monday?"

"Definitely."

"To be with me?"

"Yes. I would love that, Mrs. Taylor."

"Call me Jenna."

"Jenna?"

"My name is Jennifer. But I prefer Jenna."

"Okay, Jenna." Saying her name made my tongue feel thick, like her name was a foreign language, one I'd never heard before. "You know, I could skip school and we could spend the whole day together." The images in my head of a whole day with Mrs. Taylor sent shivers down my spine.

Mrs. Taylor laughed. "That sounds great, dear, but I have an appointment at eleven, a job interview actually, and I won't be back, at least for sure, until one. That still gives us three hours. If that works for you."

"I'll be here at one."

"Then it's a date."

"But, we'll be staying here won't we?"

I was worried she might be thinking of going out to lunch or to the movies, something people do if they're on an actual first date.

"Yes, Jonah. All afternoon. Together. In my bedroom. Can you handle that?"

All I could do was nod.

* * * * *

One week later, sitting alone in the school cafeteria, I thought about Mrs. Taylor and what she said, clarifying our date was really an appointment for three hours of non-stop raunchy sex in her bedroom, at least that's how I remembered it, her exact words were a little hazy now. It was noon. One more hour. I looked down at my food tray and the single oily slice of pepperoni pizza. I was hungry so I started to eat it anyway. I closed my eyes and saw myself floating in empty space. It was cold and dark. I saw flashes of light in the distance. . .

"Hey, Joe. . . Are you dreaming?"

I guess it was a dream. Or maybe a premonition. Visions of my future.

I'm Joe, by the way. Jason is Jay. We sometimes shorthand our names. Joe and Jay. Best friends. Except Joe has an appointment for sex with Jay's mom and Jay would probably kill Joe if he ever found out.

Jason and Cassie sat down next to me. Jason across the table and Cassie at my side.

"Jason just asked me to prom," Cassie said. She punched my arm playfully. "You had your chance. I'm not kidding. He just asked me five minutes ago."

I looked at Jason. He shrugged his shoulders and took a bite from his sandwich.

"It's not a date exactly," she continued. "Jason just thinks I'm easy. He's already booked a room at the Hilton."

"The room is for the party after prom," Jason explained. "Everybody's going and we all chipped in. No big deal."

"I hope it's a big deal. I love big deals," Cassie said, winking at me.

"Going to prom is pretty much the definition of a date," I said. I was not at all happy she was going to prom with Jason.

"How would you know?" Cassie said, shaking her head.

"Everybody knows."

"Not true, Jonah. Not even close. Dating is about two people wanting to get to know each other better. . ."

"Whatever. You guys work it out," Jason said, laughing. "I forgot something. I'll be right back."

He scooted his chair back, got up and walked toward the line of vending machines on the far side of the cafeteria. Jason didn't forget anything. He just wanted to leave us alone for our argument. Cassie and I like to argue about everything.

"Dating is about the possibility of romance," Cassie said, not paying any attention to Jason leaving. "Otherwise, it's just friends hanging out."

"Okay, that might be true, but going to prom is supposed to be romantic," I countered. "You can admit it, Cass. You're going on a date with Jason."

"What if I am? Are you jealous?"

She arched an eyebrow and smirked at me. Cassie is stunningly beautiful. At least to me. Her face is flawless, perfectly symmetrical and cover girl sweet, her blonde hair styled in a pixie cut, the bangs feathering over her sparkling blue eyes. Her tight little body is toned and tight all over. She was a tomboy growing up. Athletic and good at sports. She played second base years ago on our little league baseball team. Way better than any of the guys. No contest actually. I guess that's why no one said anything. They had to let her play. Not one of the guys objected. Why would we? Anyway, the point is, she's extremely coordinated and athletic. If Cassie and I were ever to get into bed together she would break me down and tear me apart. I know she would. . .

"Jonah, I asked you a simple question," she said, tapping the top of my hand with her fingers.

"Why would I be jealous?" I said, composing myself and getting back into the argument.

"Because you love me?" she said, turning her hands upright and shrugging her shoulders, her gestures meaning it was all so obvious, what other possible reason could there be?

"What? I never said that."

That much is true. I've never said the word love, out loud, to any girl.

"Well, I know you do."

"Oh, really? You sure about that?"

"Yep. We love each other. It's okay to say it."

"So. . . you love me?"

"Isn't that what I just said, Jonah? Well, half of what I said. What's the other half?"

I blinked at her. My heart was pounding. Could I actually say it?

"We've never even been on a real date." I said, instead. Love is not an easy word to say. I'm not even sure I know what it means.

"So what? We can date. How about tonight?"

"Why the sudden rush? We've known each other since we were kids."

It sounded absurd, even to my ears. Nothing could be less sudden. I should have asked Cassie out years ago.

"School's almost over. I want this to be the best summer ever," she said. "Besides, I'm tired of waiting for you to ask. So I'm asking you."

"What about Jason?"

"He doesn't care. He knows about us."

"He does?"

"Jonah, sometimes you can be so dense. Why do you think he left us alone? He even said it. So we can settle things!"

"Alright, then let's settle things."

"You go first," Cassie said.

We looked at each other. I knew I was supposed to say something, but the words were still scrambled in my head.

"I'm waiting, Jonah."

"Okay, let's start dating. We can do that."

"Wow, that's so romantic. You really know how to sweet talk a girl."

"Well, you know I've always liked you, Cass. I just thought we're too young to be serious. And that you were interested in other guys."

I didn't say it, but I knew if we dated it would have to be serious. I'd been crushing on Cassie, loving her from a distance, since we were little kids.

"Other guys?" Cassie seemed genuinely puzzled I would bring up other guys.

"That's what you said."

"When?"

"When we were together after I drove you home a few months ago. Remember? In your driveway?"

"Oh, that," she giggled. "I was wasted. What did I say?"

"I don't remember exactly."

Of course, I did remember. She said she had given four other guys blowjobs and that it didn't really matter, that a blowjob wasn't serious, but here with her now, after her saying she loved me, I didn't want to embarrass her or hurt her feelings. It's not like I haven't done stuff with other girls. Or like I wasn't planning on doing stuff with Jason's mom. Jesus, why is life so complicated?

"So what's the problem?" she said.

"It's not a problem. I just got the impression that you were interested in other guys, that's all."

"Well, I'm not."

"Good. So, are we a couple now? Boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"I guess we are."

"So, it's settled then?"

"Yeah. About time, too."

"You feel any different?" I asked her.

"Not really."

"Me neither. It does mean automatic sex whenever we feel like it, though, right?"

"Jonah!"

She punched me in the arm. This time harder and less playful than before. Then she smiled and softened. A cute, bashful smile. "We'll see," she said. She leaned in and kissed me on the lips. Cassie has perfect full lips. The kind where the bottom lip is full and puffed into a sultry pout, but not so full that it overpowers the top lip. When Cassie kisses you, you know it, you feel it in your bones.

"I do love you, Cassie," I whispered, our foreheads resting together.

"I'm glad. I love you too," she whispered back, then louder. "Damn, it's almost one. I have to get to class. Call me later?"

"I will."

"You know what?" she said, her eyes a little teary. "I was just trying to play it cool. I do feel different. I hope you do too, Jonah."

Cassie stood up, purposely brushed her hip against my arm, and walked away, her hips swaying as she walked. My eyes followed her all the way out the cafeteria doors. She was wearing a short emerald green flair skirt with charcoal leggings and black suede high heel shooties. Up top she wore a tight undersized black jersey long-sleeve tee, the sleeves pushed up above her elbows. She oozed sex appeal in such a blatant and obvious way I was thunderstruck I had never noticed it before.

* * * * *

A field of grass, maybe about an acre, not quite a football field of well-maintained grass lies between Santa Barbara High School and Jason's house. It takes mere minutes to cross and then seconds to hop the six-foot cedar fence to his backyard.

I sat down on a cushioned patio chair on the redwood deck in Jason's backyard. From my vantage point I could see the driveway. I already knew Mrs. Taylor wasn't home yet, her harvest gold Subaru Outback was nowhere to be seen, so I decided to wait for her. I did consider leaving a note on the door, telling her I wasn't feeling well, and making up some kind of apology. Except I couldn't think exactly how to word it. Is that really all that kept me there? My own inarticulation, my lousy way with words? If I had the perfect way to say it, if I could make her smile or even laugh and never have her realize I no longer wanted to be there, would I really do it? Could I leave her just like that? I honestly don't know because her car was easing its way up the driveway. It was too late for any kind of note.

Everything had changed with Cassie. I guess I was about to cheat on her. And yet twenty minutes ago I wouldn't have given it a second thought because it wouldn't have been cheating. Trying to be an adult and telling someone you love them makes everything so complicated. Why do people do it?

Mrs. Taylor stepped out of her car and smiled at me.

"Hey there, Jonah! Sorry, I'm running late. Have you been waiting long?"

"I barely got here."

"It's good to see you, sweetie. I'm so glad you didn't have second thoughts," she said.

"Yes. Me too."

I said it quietly. It didn't sound like my voice. I'm not sure Mrs. Taylor even heard me.

I decided to travel back in time to yesterday and be that person for one last afternoon. A sliver of time fixed in the past for a few hours, like a dream or an alternate reality of some kind, then later tonight I could wake up and travel back to the present for Cassie and be the person she wants me to be. . .

"What a day! It's really been some kind of day," Mrs. Taylor, said. "Your parents let you drink wine, don't they Jonah? Because I want to celebrate."

"Sometimes, like, for special occasions. Thanksgiving or birthdays, things like that."

Actually, it's more than that. I drink wine pretty much everyday.

Mrs. Taylor was wearing a short light grey pencil skirt with a matching suit jacket and a blue pinstripe oxford shirt underneath. Her long legs were encased in nude stockings and she was making that swishing noise from her thighs rubbing together as she walked. She had beige open-toed high heel pumps on her pink toenail polished feet. She looked sleek and sexy, yet ready for business. Her hair was swept back tight into a ponytail.

"Well, this is a special occasion. I'm so excited. I have so much to tell you," she said. "Let's go inside."

As we walked toward the house I decided to come clean about my drinking.

I told her about my mother and her parents. My mother was born in France. At seventeen she moved, all on her own, to California to go to college at UC Berkeley where she met my dad. Her parents still live in Lyon, about three hundred miles south of Paris, and we visit there for several weeks every summer. One summer, three years ago, we stayed the whole month of July and most of August.

Anyway, I told her it's a cultural thing, my family drinks wine every evening with dinner. I started when I was twelve. It's like a glass of water.

I followed her into the house. Mrs. Taylor went to the kitchen and came back with an already opened bottle of Beaujolais and two glasses. We sat down together on the couch in the living room and she poured us both a full glass.

"Jason did tell me something about France and he mentioned your family going through a lot of wine. I guess I thought he was exaggerating."

We clinked glasses and toasted to new beginnings.

Mrs. Taylor took a big gulp. She swirled it in her mouth for an extra second before swallowing.

"You get drunk a lot, Jonah?"

"No, I don't. Really, never," I said.

I almost told her I was always the designated driver amongst my group of friends, but that would mean telling her Jason was the one that was always drinking too much. I prefer just the beginnings of a gentle buzz. No one in my family drinks to excess.

"Never?" she said. She took another gulp.

"One glass is it for me."

"Interesting." She smiled a goofy smile and finished off the rest of her glass. I was only about a third of the way into mine. She poured herself another full glass. "One glass is never enough for me," she said.

She leaned back into the cushion at the back of the couch and crossed her legs, forcing her tight shirt to ride up even higher on her thighs. I could see the tops of her stockings where the nylon fabric changes to a three-inch band of spandex for stay up support without the need for garters and where the color goes abruptly from transparent nude to an opaque beige. Seeing the tops of thigh high stockings always gives me chills, they're like silent invitations to the flesh above, the moist warmth of inner thighs and panty-coated pussy, all waiting there impatiently to be discovered and explored.