Learning from a Teacher

The dark holds him close, like a lover maybe, he thought with a grin. The dark is his friend, his protection. It is a summer night. There is no moon. The stars twinkle above him as he waits in his hiding place.

His name is Jimmy. He is an eighteen year old senior at Hay Long High. He is hidden, waiting as he has before, waiting for Mrs. Johnson to appear.

Jimmy is an athletic kid. A little over six feet tall with a strong body from playing basketball at school and on any playground where he could find a game. His brown hair is cut close, his brown eyes reflective of intelligence and a sense of humor. Tonight he's wearing jeans, some old basketball shoes, no socks, and his favorite t-shirt. The t-shirt is black with a great abstract design on the front. J.C.Q., it says, for John Coltrane Quartet, his father told him. His father had picked it up on a trip into the City, a shop in Soho. Jimmy liked the t-shirt but knew little about J.C.Q. He thought they were a band similar to the Dave Matthews Band.

Jimmy is patient while he waits. The binoculars hanging around his neck are ready, willing partners in a special experience.

Mrs. Johnson usually comes down to her family room around 9:00 p.m. She is always alone. He had found her to be a pretty predictable person.

Jimmy knows a lot about Mrs. Johnson. She teaches English at his high school. She is divorced. She lives alone. Her only child, her son, Alex, is away being a freshman at Ohio State. Jimmy and Alex had played varsity basketball together last year. They had been good friends. I suppose we still are, thought Jimmy. Jimmy guessed Mrs. Johnson to be a little less than forty years old. Close, maybe. She has brown hair cut short, and brown eyes much like his own. She works out. Jimmy has watched her working out at the local YMCA. She usually runs on a treadmill for twenty or thirty minutes then goes through the Nautilus machines hard. In fact, it was at the YMCA where Jimmy first started taking an interest in Mrs. Johnson. He had been in and out of the Johnson home for years as he and Alex grew up moving from playground to playground for pick-up basketball games.

Mrs. Johnson had always been nice when she'd seen him but Jimmy really hadn't taken much notice of her. But in the gym it had been different. Mrs. Johnson worked out hard, pushing herself. Jimmy liked that. Jimmy also liked the look of her frame. Her legs are strong, firm, shaped, her ass tight and just right, a high jumper's ass, her middle tapered, flat, her shoulders perfect in a strong yet feminine way, her breasts not too large but having a fullness that he could really get into. And her pubic hair is dark brown and untrimmed. Jimmy hadn't seen her pubic hair at the gym, but he knew about it. He had seen it many times when she came down to the family room alone in her white cloth robe.

Jimmy had come to recognize that Mrs. Johnson plays on the internet.

Most nights after 9:00 p.m. or so she comes downstairs to the family room wearing only her white robe. She sits in front of the computer reading then typing, reading then typing, reading then typing. Sometimes, most times lately, she eventually opens the robe and plays with herself. And Jimmy watches through his father's expensive binoculars.

But tonight Jimmy hoped things might be a bit different. Tonight it was actually nearly 9:15 when she came down the stairs and into the family room. As always she is wearing the white robe. There are monogrammed initials on the sleeve, maybe from a hotel or something, but Jimmy can't quite read what they are. She is carrying a mug of something to drink, tea or coffee, perhaps. As she walks by the computer on the desk, she turned it on, continuing to walk past it to the table with the lit lamp.

She dims the light and turns. In her turn, Jimmy catches a glimmer of her leg moving through the front of the robe. Her tanned smooth leg makes him remember her working out. Jimmy has actually stood behind Mrs. Johnson in the gym while she did squats with weights. He watched her ass move back and down, dipping low before powering the bar up. Jimmy watched in the gym and he remembered seeing that same ass here in her family room. That same nice ass, naked, straining, moving seductively while her fingers worked between her legs.

Tonight Mrs. Johnson clicked through various places on her computer. Jimmy could see the screen shift and pause to change. He is thankful for the lamp by the couch. Without it the dim blue light from the computer would only give him shapes and shadows to see. The lamp cast an amber light on Mrs. Johnson where she sat.

Jimmy guessed that she usually ended up in some sort of chat room on the internet. He had seen a few of those but not spent enough time to really discover how to use them. Tonight she seemed to find what she wanted pretty quickly. Maybe it's just that she got a late start, he thought.

Mrs. Johnson sipped from her mug and appeared to be reading. She sat the mug down and began to type. Jimmy watched her fingers move gracefully over the keyboard. He looked at the shape of her neck rising out of the pillow of the robe's collar. She wore no earrings, no jewelry that he could see. She must have just taken a bath, he was thinking.

It's starting, he said to himself. He watched her hand now free of the mug move into the top of the robe. She is caressing her breasts, he could see. Her hand moves back and forth giving each breast equal time, equal arousal, equal touching.

Mrs. Johnson moved away from the computer, surprising Jimmy. This is new. She sits on the couch and reaches for the phone. She dials, waits, and begins to talk. He sees her smiling, appearing to be whispering in spite of no one else being in the house. Then he sees her hand move into the front of the robe at her waist. Her hand moves downward. And then he knows she is touching her pussy. She has to be, he thinks.

Her left leg moves up, her foot to the coffee table, and he can see her hand pressing into her. Her fingers are flat, moving slowly over her clit. Her untrimmed full pubic hair bunches around her fingers.

She is still talking on the phone. Her head is back against the couch, her eyes closed. Jimmy sees her middle finger push inside her to gather moisture before it returns to her clit. Her hand moves up from her pussy and pushes back the robe from her breasts before slowly circling each nipple with her wet finger. Then it's back to her pussy, rubbing more urgently, faster, harder.

Jimmy's nerves were challenging him. If you ever, he told himself, if you ever. No one had to tell him, no one had to be there to coach him or push him. He knew.

Jimmy rose from his hiding place and began to walk toward the front door of Mrs. Johnson's house.

Jimmy finishes knocking a second series of taps and begins to wonder if she will come to the door. His hand rises to knock one last time when a light comes on in the vestibule. Mrs. Johnson, holding her white robe closed at her breast, peeps through the glass window beside the front door.

"Jimmy?" he hears her say.

"Yes, Mrs. Johnson," he calls back trying to smile.

The dead bolt lock clicks and she pulls the door open with a quizzical look on her face.

"Jimmy," she says, "What is it?"

"May I come in, Mrs. Johnson?" Jimmy asks

"It's late, Jimmy," she answers, "and I just got out of the bath."

"I won't take but just a minute," he smiles.

She steps back offering him passage inside. He steps through the door with a sense of achievement. He smells the faint smell of soap, shampoo, and sex. Or maybe, he thinks to himself, the sex smell is a vanilla candle or something. Jimmy hadn't smelled the smell of a woman's sex enough to really recognize it with certainty.

Mrs. Johnson stands with her robe pulled tightly together obviously trying to figure why Jimmy would be on her doorstep at such a late hour.

"I talked with Alex by phone today," he began. "He sounds like he's having fun at State. Anyway, he mentioned some music, a few CDs, he'd let me borrow. You mind if I go up to his room and get them, Mrs. Johnson?"

"You came here to get some CDs?" she almost smiles.

"Yes, Ma'am," he responds with his best bullshit look.

"Okay, come on." And with that she starts up the stairs, that nice ass working in naked bliss under the well-washed white robe.

Jimmy followed but not too closely. He wanted to be able to see that ass moving.

In the upstairs hall, Mrs. Johnson stops at Alex's old bedroom door. She steps back wordlessly and watches as Jimmy steps inside. The room was already lit. Alex's old brass double bed stood between the door and the bookshelves under the window. Guessing, Jimmy moves to the bookshelves and begin to search through the CDs. While he looks he tries to ad lib his next move. Just leave, he wondered? Try to talk with her maybe?

"Jimmy?" Mrs. Johnson says from the doorway.

He turns to see her staring at him.

"Why do you have those binoculars around your neck?" she asks quietly.

"Oh, these," he smiles. Oh, shit, he thinks. "They're for, ah, comets, shooting stars. Supposed to be a lot of them tonight."

"Do you watch them from your knees?" she asks evenly.

"Ma'am?"

"From your knees, Jimmy," she continues. "The knees of your jeans are muddy. You've been kneeling somewhere. The mud is wet so it wasn't long ago."

Jimmy looked down at his pants wondering if all mothers went to some secret agent school of interrogation and analysis.

"Jimmy," Mrs. Johnson says firmly but still quietly. "Have you been looking in my windows at me?"

He doesn't answer.

"Jimmy?" she presses.

"Yes, Ma'am." He knew nothing else to say.

Jimmy is frozen kneeling beside the bookcase in Alex's room. Mrs. Johnson has fixed him with her schoolteacher stare. What seems like an eternity to Jimmy is unfolding. She must be thinking about the police, my parents, the CIA, he tells himself.

"Jimmy," she began, "I know your reputation around school. Kids say they know nothing about you. Even the girls you date say you don't really tell them anything. I've heard all that."

He only nods. Privacy is important, he thought.

"So," she continues, "my hunch is that you've told no one about watching me. Have you?"

"No, Ma'am," he admits.

Mrs. Johnson leans back against the door and sighs.

"Did you like what you saw, Jimmy?" she almost whispers.

Jimmy only nods his head, yes. He is afraid to speak.

"If I were to let you see more, do more, could I count on you to keep it to yourself, not tell anyone?" she asks.

Yes, again he nods.

"I'll show you, Jimmy," she whispers, "but you can't touch unless I ask you to. Understood?"

Again, a nod, yes.

"But I don't know you well enough to trust you not to touch me," she says hurriedly, "so one condition."

His eyebrows ask the question.

"You have to stretch out on the bed," she says, "and let me tie you down to make sure you won't touch without permission. Then I'll show you more, maybe do more, than you could ever have seen through my window. Agreed?"

It was a no brainer thought Jimmy as he moved to lie down on Alex's brass bed. Mrs. Johnson turned and left the doorway. She was back before he could make sure he wasn't getting the bedcovers dirty. She had four men's neckties.

She stands at the foot of the bed, the robe fitting her more loosely now, showing the cleavage he had seen in the gym. She smiles at him. "Ready?" she asks.

"Yes," is his weak reply.

Mrs. Johnson begins tying his ankles with the men's neckties, securing each one to the brass footboard. She moves up to lean over him, beginning to secure his wrists the same way. He could smell her well now. The smell of soap and gentle perfume. She finishes and stands surveying him, convincing herself that he is secure.

He looks up trying to anticipate the next move. Would she drop the robe for him? But she walks back out the bedroom door and is gone without a word.

When she comes back, she has a few things with her. He sees a pair of scissors and a Polaroid camera. And he knows that he may have made a error in judgment.

Mrs. Johnson looks down at Jimmy and smiles. "It's time for some fun, Jimmy," she almost coos. "And by the way, Alex hasn't been at school for about a month now. He's in Europe."

Mrs. Johnson drops her robe to the floor and picks up the scissors.

Mrs. Johnson stands naked at the end of the bed. She has the scissors in her hand. She begins to wordlessly cut the shoelaces from Jimmy's shoes. Jimmy looks at her without thought to his situation. Her breasts are nicer than he had thought looking through the window. Her shoulders are indeed strong, her middle slightly wash-boarded with muscle. She is beautiful, he tells himself.

She has the laces out of both his shoes. The shoes are pulled off his sockless feet and thrown toward the wall.

"My name is Judy," she says. "And I don't want you to speak. Agreed?"

Jimmy nods, yes.

Judy begins to cut a path up the side of his jeans pant leg. Jimmy can feel the underside working parts of the scissors. Judy works fast but he still feels safe. His jeans are cut off and gone collected in a pile in the floor. She moves up to his t-shirt and begins the same cut-away procedure. He gives no thought to his favorite t-shirt dying this defamed death. He could only watch this beautiful naked woman as she works.

His cock has already risen to the moment when Judy arrives at his briefs. She lays her hand on him testing his hardness before snipping away his underwear with the scissors. Her hand takes his cock testing it again, stroking it slowly before she steps away from the bed and picks up the camera.

She begins snapping away, taking pictures as she walked around the room to get different angles and distances. "These pictures are going in a safety deposit box at the bank," she says. "If you ever, if you EVER tell anyone anything about tonight, these pictures come out in the open. You had better understand me." Jimmy nods, yes, with real conviction. She puts the camera down and leaves the room to put the pictures in a safe place.

She comes back quietly. Jimmy's cock is still standing straight in the air, throbbing, weaving around as if to find a lover or Jimmy's hand. Judy walks to the side of the bed and slowly begins to crawl up and over Jimmy.

"You are going to please me," she murmurs, "and you are going to do it well."

Jimmy watches her pussy, excited to be seeing it so close. Her hips rise above his chest. She rests her weight on one knee and steps across him to plant a foot on the bed. She takes his head in her hand, holding him by his hair, and pushes her pussy hard into his face. Instinctively Jimmy sticks out his tongue and tries to lick but Judy is using him to fuck herself, not relying on him to know how or accomplish anything. She is already very wet. Her wetness passes to Jimmy's face wetting him. His nose brushes against her clit and makes her jump but she keeps humping him, fucking his face for all she is worth. He has no technical clue but he senses that she is cumming. Her body begins to shiver and tense until finally she grabs his head with both hands pulling him hard against her spasming lips. He pushes his tongue out as far as he can in hopes of pleasing her and catching any of her essence. She slowly pushes his head back to the bed and settles down on him, resting. He can barely breathe but who would complain?

Judy seems to rouse out of a sleep beginning to move. She moves up toward the head of the bed a little higher on his face. He thinks for a moment she is getting off him but then he hears her say, "Lick my asshole now. Do it." And he does, tasting the wetness from her pussy spread over her puckered ass. He pushes his tongue hard toward her, the tip getting just inside her ring.

Without a word, Judy eases off him. "Good boy," she whispers.

She turns and straddles his face. He thinks she intends to take his cock in her mouth but he feels nothing happening down there.

"Look at my pussy," she says to him. "Is this the pussy you've been wanting to see? Look at it. She is almost shouting now.

He can feel her hot breath on his cock, his balls, his legs. She isn't touching him only blowing on him first with heated breath then with cooling air. Her pussy is right in his face just out of reach. Its lips are swollen and thick. Her hair matted with her cum and his spit. Her asshole shining from the same mixture.

Jimmy could feel his cock lurching, jerking. He had no control over it. Judy quickly steps over him taking away her pussy. She gracefully settles between his spread legs looking up to him. She alternates watching his eyes and his jumping untouched cock. With a grin she dips her head low and runs her tongue over his balls. That is all it takes. His cock begins to shoot cum up in an arch across his belly, the first splat landing on his chest, others, many others, following to build dripping puddles on his stomach.

Judy moves up the bed slowly running her fingers through his cum. She holds her fingers to his lips and begins to spread the hot salty liquid over his face and tongue.

"You are a good boy," she smiles. "But tomorrow is a school day. We both need some sleep. Session over."

He starts to say something to object but her glare stops him. He can only hope there will be other lessons.