Scrabble

It's a fairly common misconception in many schools... boys are better at math, and girls are better with language. When people find out for the first time that I majored in or teach mathematics, many find it exceptional that a woman would have that interest. What's strange, though, is the thought that someone whose main interest is a left-brained activity like math would not be able to do as well with English language arts.

Perpetuating the stereotype, the English department in our school is made up of nine women and one man. When someone goes to school for years and years in study, most honestly believe they know more than their friends do in their subject area... it's common human nature. So when a friendly game of Scrabble was offered by some of them as a get-to-know-you when I joined the staff six years ago, they seemed fairly surprised that I actually won. After a few more games here and there over the next couple years, they quit asking if I'd like to play.

There are a few facts about me that don't come up often in normal conversation.... I'd been doing crossword puzzles with my parents since I was ten years old, and Scrabble was a favorite family game in our home. Yes, like many left-handed people, the right side of my brain has always worked well and perceiving symbols and images has been second-nature to me as long as I can remember, but what most people don't know is that using my chalk, a pen, or scissors are about the only things I do left-handed, and my left brain is a lot more active than most of my fellow sinistrals.

The bottom line? I've lost exactly five games of Scrabble in the past twelve years. (Two of those were to my mom.) I play it as a combination word game (left brain) and visual game (right brain). Since most people are more dominant with one side or the other, most can't cope with competition from both sides. My vocabulary is larger than most of the math geeks I know... and when I play against a left-brainer who knows more words than I do, I play a very defensive game, keeping words on the board tightly packed together, so they don't have anywhere to play anything decent. My style of play can jump between offensive and defensive at whim, and even those who've played me often don't know what to expect in any new game, except that by its end I'll most likely have more points.

Among my own department, one of my closest friend is Doug. He was hired the same year as I was, and we form the rebel faction of the math teachers... the ones who do our jobs well and aren't afraid to modernize the way math has been taught since we ourselves studied the subject in high school.

Both Doug and his wife Kate are close to my fiancé's age, in their early-40's. Doug and I befriended each other right away, and I've been to their home many times since. Kate teaches at one of the elementary schools in our district, and their children both attend our high school.

Doug and I had had sex two or three times a year since the first time I gave him a blow job before school as a birthday gift. I'm fairly certain Kate didn't know about it, but things took an interesting turn in November of 2004 when Doug let me know Kate was becoming more and more bi-curious. They both knew I was bisexual, and I really didn't need to be asked twice.

After volleyball season was over, Kate invited me to join in her yoga class Thursdays after school. It didn't take long before one night when Doug had taken the kids to a basketball game at school, Kate and I started with a relaxing soak in their hot tub, and ended up in their bed. In the time since, Kate and I got together every once in a while, and Doug, Kate, and I also had enjoyed about a half-dozen threesomes together.

Strangely, the time that family affair began happening was about the same time Matt and I were becoming more serious as a couple. I'd been upfront with him from the start about my bisexuality, and he's always been a dear about it. Earlier in the spring of 2005, I was struggling emotionally about not being faithful to him, though, and it took quite some time before realizing that perhaps he'd like to be more involved with that. Toward the end of the school year, I introduced him to my dear friend Marie, and the three of us had sex together twice. We'd never discussed the topic of foursomes at all, but it thrust itself upon us one night over a friendly game of Scrabble.

It was incredibly hot for a June afternoon, even late June, last summer. The humidity was unbearable and it felt as though I was sweating the moment I left the building from my summer school class. Despite the weather, I spent some time outdoors studying in the shade with Andrew, one of my classmates, and discussing possible solutions to the problems we were assigned, then I left campus to prepare for guests. Doug and Kate were coming over to supper with Matt and me around 7pm.

After shopping for supper, I made it home around 3:30, and my clothes were off within a minute of setting the vegetables on the counter and the salmon in the fridge. The weather was steaming, I'd just got done flirting with a cute guy, and I was horny as hell. I went straight to my bedroom, laid face down on my bed, and began humping two fingers until I climaxed.

As nice as it felt, it wasn't nearly enough. I knew Matt would be over soon and would help in that matter, but I just couldn't wait. With a skip over to the bottom drawer of my dresser, I opened it and glanced through my toys. I chose a large, thick flesh-colored dildo, and a thin silver vibe. I lubed up the dildo and turned the vibrator to its slowest on-setting.

I plunged the head of the large one in between my folds, and teased my clit with the tip of the humming vibe. At first I played with my clitoris for a bit until I was squirming on the bed, then I concentrated more on fuck myself with the large fake-cock. Sweat streamed from every pore on my body, and I was so wet from cumming before and fucking now that while sucking in air between moaning aloud, I actually heard the squishing, sopping sounds from the wetness of my pussy.

From there, I knew it wouldn't take long at all, and a moment later my entire body was shaking violently from an awesome orgasm. I held the dildo steady and climaxed all over it, riding the wave for a full half-minute.

I pulled the dildo from my cunt and began licking it like a popsicle. My juices practically flowed like a dam burst once I pulled it out, and I felt them leaking from my pussy down into the crack of my ass. The dildo tasted strongly of myself and I savored every lick, and between the sensations of taste, scent, and touch, the sexiness of it all overwhelmed me and I wanted even more.

I turned off the vibrator and lubed it up as well, then took the cocks each of my hands and put them both between my legs. I put the large one into my pussy and began fucking myself again with it, then slowly worked the thinner one into my ass. My legs and feet struggled for some a position to take advantage of my situation, and soon I found a rhythm that suited me very well. My right hand gripped about the large cock between my legs, my left around hip and fucking my ass from around and behind my thigh... in with one as the other came out and vice-versa, a two-piston engine whose product was the basest of pleasures. I kept fucking myself with both toys for a few minutes and found myself in a glorious place... that is, until I cursed when interrupted by the doorbell.

I groaned, pulled out the dildos, and got to my window when I heard the doorbell ring a second time. My heart fluttered when I saw it was Matt, and thankfully I'd be able to get my relief from something that would give me emotional satisfaction as well. I was so excited to see him that I didn't even bother grabbing my kimono on my way to the front door.

Matt's eyes and smile widened immensely when he saw I'd opened the door completely nude. He stepped in and closed the door, and his arms were around my back in nothing flat, and we kissed deeply, softly, and passionately standing there in my living room. The first chance I felt his grip loosen to step back and say hello, I took his hands in mine and took a step backward, pulling him with me. I smiled, turned, and led him to my bed.

"Mmmm-hmmm!" he chuckled when he came into my room. A bottle of lube was on the nightstand, one dildo was on the bed, another on the floor accidentally kicked off when I got up in a hurry, and the crowning touches... a wet stain just under halfway down the sheets and an easily detectable odor of sex in the room. I shrugged and laughed, without an iota of guilt or embarrassment. I plopped back onto the bed and watched in anticipatory delight as my boyfriend got naked.

I started seeing Matt the September before, one of four guys I was dating casually at the time. Over the next few months, he proved himself more my type than the others; we began seeing each other more seriously soon afterward, and in the time since he's moved in with me... we're to be married next summer. His age of 43 is betrayed by his long brown hair, mustache, beard, and the hair on his chest all laced with grey, but you wouldn't be able to tell it by the rest of his body. He's 5'9" tall, slim, and stronger than he looks. He has muscular legs, still keeping in shape from his days of playing lacrosse and running, and his arms, though not beefy with muscles, are delightfully long that once I'm inside them I know I'm as safe as a girl can feel.

Then there's his cock. Oh, my fucking god! About nine inches long, almost two inches wide, and when hard, slightly curved upward like a banana so it hits all the right places. If that wasn't enough, he takes care to shave his balls so I can lick them anytime I blow him without feeling hairs on my tongue.

The entire package, as nice as it is, is merely wrapping for the true gifts that lie underneath... a mind as sharp as a tack, a heart full of kindness and understanding, and the experience of a man who's been having sex almost since the time I was born. His oral is better than any man (and most women) I know, and his inventiveness and drive in bed still occasionally takes me by surprise. With never a dead flower in my vase, every door held open for me, hands held wherever we walk, and soft fingers almost constantly caressing somewhere on my legs when we're sitting together, this is a man I'm not letting go of!

Matt and I, like any couple of which I've been part (and any couple in general, I'd suppose), have a certain repertoire of foreplay and positions we go through when having "normal" sex. Once he had taken his clothes off, we skipped through all of it but the last position. His cock had been bulging through his slacks since he was hugging me in the living room, and it's obvious what state I was in by then!

By the time he was on top of my body, I was already reaching for his pole and positioning the head to my folds. He pushed forward, impaling me with his amazing cock, and I groaned a combination sigh and moan. I pulled my legs up and back as far as I could, then settled my calves over the small of his back, locking my ankles together just behind his sexy ass. My arms clung around his neck and shoulders, and I started to feel what seemed like a pulse of minor electrical shocks flowing between the center of his chest and mine. With a few fiery kisses, he pumped his cock deeper and deeper inside me until I was taking it to the hilt. He brought a finger up to his lips, gave it a swirling suck to get it wet, then brought it down the sides of our legs, around under his balls, teasing my star lightly before slowly poking it into my ass.

I smiled between joyful moans, feeling him fucking me the way I did myself earlier... sliding his finger in as his cock came out, finger out as his cock went back in. I was taking him inside me as deeply as he could get with both tools, and clinging to him for dear life. My head rolled backward when I started cumming and I dug my fingernails into my own palms to keep from scratching his back.

Once he felt my tightening about his body relax and knowing I was satisfied for the moment, he went to take care of his own relief next. Matt pushed up from beside me with both hands, lifting and holding himself up to enable himself to look down at me while fucking me. While keeping his pace driving his huge cock in and out of my pussy, I watched his eyes roam from my face to my breasts, shaking back and forth, up and down my chest with every stroke of the pummeling he was giving me. With the constant shaking movements and the open air between us, my nipples stiffened to large pebbles. He smiled down at them, then up to my face... even amidst being a sexual object, I love how he thinks I'm pretty.

From there, he slowed his pace a bit and, though I knew what was coming next, my eyes widened and tingles flew all through my body at the thought of it. My expectations were right on the money, and I wasn't disappointed in the least. Matt began rotating his hips in a circular motion, and with every push in along one side, ground his pubis onto my clit while swiping across and pulling out the other. I don't know how or where he learned that move, but it never fails in making me climax. His monstrously wide cock was stretching my folds, in one side and out along the other, and with every push of himself, a grind of fine hairs, hard skin, and bone teasing across my clit. After nine months of really getting to know me, he knew exactly how hard to press and at what speed to circle. I was putty in his hands and he knew it... once again I was gasping for air and losing control of my own body.

Matt showed a hint of pride in his face, seeing me in this condition, and began encouraging me to let it go and to cum for him. I begged him to hold me and to cum with me. His body lowered and I felt his hands easing from under my arms and grasping onto my shoulders. From there, he used my own body as leverage against itself, pulling himself up and inside me while jerking my body downward to take it, fucking me as hard as I've ever felt from a missionary position.

Though he continued with his sweeping, circular grind over my clitoris while pounding my pussy, the change in position was just enough to keep me from climaxing on the spot. Even so, his cock pounded me like a steel jackhammer and I could do nothing but submit to him. I tried to hold out to wait to feel him cum, but I couldn't... I absolutely imploded, screaming out, quaking and trembling underneath his body so hard that he actually lifted his head up to make sure I didn't bang my forehead against his jaw. My hips and upper body bucked without warning, my legs tightened against his sides, and found this was one of the rare instances I'd climaxed so hard that tears were streaming from the corners of my eyes.

My muscles felt like Jell-O, and my arms and legs fell limply to the bed. Matt reached his hands back down, grabbing my thighs from behind and pulling them out and apart. From there, his cock drowned in my pussy, fucking me faster but less powerfully. His pace grew to the point I knew he liked best, and with my legs spread and pulled apart widely, I felt his balls slapping against my ass with each stroke of his cock. I was still trying to breathe after my orgasm and, still feeling the tears dripping down my temples, somehow managed to bring my hands to my face to wipe them off.

Reaching up from there, I lightly touched over his face, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead onto mine. Again I was reduced to begging him to cum, though this time looking deeply into his eyes and telling him how much I loved him. This time my pleas were heard, and a moment later I saw the glorious honest emotions in his face as he orgasmed, shooting hard and planting his seed deep inside me. He collapsed atop of me, and our limbs entwined about each other while we kissed with all the love in our hearts. I was crying like a baby with grateful tears of joy, and my soul was bared as only he can do it.

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Once we collected ourselves, I realized we only had an hour and a half before our dinner guests were to arrive. Our bodies were drenched in sweat and both his juices and mine were dripping from my pussy. We reluctantly peeled ourselves off the bed and I started running a cool bath for us to share. I was clipping my hair up when Matt joined me a moment later, fresh from a trip to the fridge, carrying two bottles of hard cranberry lemonade. At first sip, the cool fruitiness of the drink was most welcomed, and we set our bottles on the floor beside the tub as we stepped in. The bath was as refreshing as the chilled alcohol, and as Matt sat back in the water with his legs apart, I took my place sitting between them, laying back and resting my head on his chest. His arms closed about my belly and chest, and we talked about my homework problems from class and of his day at his summer job, taking moments to grab for another swallow and to lightly splash the cool water over each other to lazily clean up.

Sweet, contented, soft comfort often leads to the best kind of silence, but the silence that took place over the next few moments found me in what seemed like an eternal struggle of left brain versus right. On the right was the sweetest of emotions... love and security in this man's arms. On the left, it was though I realized too late that I'd made a logically bad move in a game of chess or Scrabble. As I'd said, Matt knew of my bisexuality and of some of the times I'd been with other women, but I never told him about any of the times I'd cheated on him with other men. With the strike from my left brain, my right was immediately decimated with guilt. I clung to feelings of hope and, soul bared as it was, found the courage to speak.

I let Matt know there was something he should know, and as bravely as I could, warned him there might be a strange vibe over supper, as I'd had sex before with Kate, and with both her and Doug. (I thought it best to test the waters a bit before coming clean on being alone with Doug.)

Knowing my sexual preference and needs and having recently been involved with two threesomes between my friend Marie and me, he seemed fine with me being with Kate, but I sensed a bit of tension when I'd mentioned being with the couple together. He asked all kinds of questions about my time with Doug and Kate, but did so very calmly. I was terribly emotional at that point and cried softly in his arms as I answered each of his inquiries with straight honesty.

Matt gave me solace and held me tenderly. I started to feel better and we made our way out of the tub, drying each other off, and as the water spiraled down the drain, it seemed as though some of my burdens washed away with it.

We went back to the bedroom to get dressed. Matt put his clothes on, and I slipped into my kimono for the time-being. Then we were off to the kitchen to get ready for supper. I soaked a small cedar plank on which to grill the salmon outside later, and wanted to get a couple foil packets of vegetables ready for the grill as well. Matt went out to light the charcoal and returned in time to help. Our time in the kitchen was playful, and Matt had me laughing and giggling with occasional tickles.

I washed some potatoes and cut them into cubes, diced some onions, crushed a few cloves of garlic, and put them in aluminum foil with some butter, salt and pepper. Meanwhile, Matt was busy peeling zucchini and carrots, which were to be sliced and put into another foil packet with broccoli, butter, and lemon. He seemed to be goofing around more than working, though, but it was more than worth the laughs.

He seemed too quiet for a second, and when I turned to see what was up, I was all of a sudden swept up in his arms! He'd snuck behind me, and I was laughing hysterically, my body bundled up, one of his arms catching the forced bend in my knees and the other catching the small of my back. I kept laughing and kissing him. Finally he set me up on the kitchen counter and the look in his eyes was purely impish.