Sunday Scholarship

Rosemary was sitting in her dark, second-floor office, with only a fluorescent desk lamp providing illumination. Her hands covered her face and she was either crying or wiping away tears. She hadn't heard me ascend the stairs so I just stood for a few moments, trying to imagine the source of my gorgeous boss's unhappiness.

"Ohh...I didn't hear you. How long have you been standing there?" she asked, defensively.

"Ten seconds," I replied, lying.

"Well. Arlene's taking off a couple of hours early, so you and I'll have to cover for her and do deliveries, then close up."

"I can't drop her off at home, then," I said, freeing myself from Arlene's wishes.

"Hell, no, Glen! Not after this afternoon!"

I suspected what she was referring to, but didn't broach the subject. It seemed that everyone knew that Arlene and I had screwed on occasion...including her daughter. "Okay. She can call a cab, and I'll work the register 'til the late deliveries, then come back and help you close." I was trying to be helpful.

"Good!" she said, wiping smeared mascara from her eyes. "Now, give me a few minutes and I'll be downstairs to help."

"Gotcha'," I said, and turned.

"Ohh, by the way," Rosemary said. "I got a call from Betty Thompson. She couldn't stop raving about you...and your hands. She's an old college roommate. Hope you enjoyed yourself," she concluded, sounding coquettish, as she freshened her makeup in a small mirror.

The evening was slow, and I was apprehensive. I knew something was up and rushed through my closing tasks after the pharmacist left, leaving only Rosemary and me alone in the store. At the stroke of ten I locked up, carried the cash drawers upstairs, and busied myself by restocking shelves while she counted the day's take. A half-hour later she paged me through the PA system, reminding me to turn off all the lights and join her in her office.

As I approached her, she was in her usual position with shapely legs crossed, looking much better than a few hours before, and smoking a cigarette. "Well, come sit down and let's talk," she said. I did as she said, unbuttoning my smock at the neck, and stretched, looking at my watch. Another six-day week is finished, I thought, anticipating a long night's sleep without the need of Dexedrine to help me study. She stubbed out her cigarette, leaving its embers still smoking in the tray, its butt covered with fresh lipstick...a ruby red. Awfully sexy looking, I noted, without really thinking.

What Iwaswondering was what her friend, Ms. Thompson, had told her. I blundered by taking the initiative. "So, you know, uhh...Betty Thompson," I said.

"For years," she said, her eyes twinkling. "We were roommates in college. She was a slut even then. A music major. I'd date a guy, and she'd fuck him before I ever really got to know him. We both stayed in town after graduation...I got married, she didn't...and here we are."

"A nice person...very attractive," I ventured.

"She said the same about you, Glen. 'Such fine, strong hands'," she said, mocking the voice of her former college roommate perfectly. "Well, show me. I've had a helluva day and I need a back rub. Rosemary's blue eyes were now glistening with a devilish fire.

"Wha'?" I gasped.

"Rub my back! I've got knots in my neck and shoulders that my wastrel husband caused years ago. I wanta see if you're as good as Betty says."

I rose unsteadily from my chair and stood behind her as she swiveled around to place her elbows on her desk. I'd only touched Rosemary once in my life...to shake hands when we first met. I was therefore nervous, but not so nervous that I didn't notice the fresh perfume that wafted upward from her seated body. My hands went over her shoulders, tentatively, and I applied thumb pressure on either side of her spine. Her muscles were very tight, and she moaned, pleasurably. I moved my thumbs slightly to new terrain and she moaned again, spurring my courage to explore further up to the base of he r skull. I turned down the upturned collar of her lab coat and stroked the silken skin of her dainty neck, running my fingers around it under the top of her blouse.

"Nnngaahh...Glen...yesss," she murmured. "That feels so gooood. Don't stop...pleeease," she whined. I kept at her, gently caressing and massaging the creamy skin down to her clavicle, then back up. Her head started to loll back and forth in relaxation, and I pulled slightly at her lab coat collar, wordlessly indicating that I wanted to remove the garment. She raised her arms from her desk and hung them limply at her sides, and I peeled the top part of it off her shoulders and held the sleeves. She pulled her arms from them and I looked down at the top of her head, which was trembling slightly. In the oppressive silence I heard her breathing deeply...a bit excitedly...and I ran my hands over her creamy shoulders, which were bare since she'd been wearing a sleeveless silk blouse underneath.

"You like that?" I asked, in what I thought – ridiculously – was my deepest, sexiest mutter.

"Ooohhhh...Gawd, yessss, Glennn. Jus' rub me all over. Your hands feel so goood!"

Emboldened, I pointed my fingers downward and crept lower on either side of her spine to the waistband of her skirt, testing – I must admit, since I now knew mischief was afoot – how far I might go before she stopped me. I was under her skirt now and moving my hands outward to feel the tight flare of her hips when she tensed. I retreated, running my hands back up her sides to her armpits, causing her to shiver. "Tickle?" I asked.

"Mmmm...a little," she replied in a small, girlish voice. "But don't stop...please." She brought her arms in front of her and seemed to be fiddling with something as I ran my hands up and down the silken columns of her upper arms. Her skin's like that of a baby! I thought. Then I moved back up to her shoulders, spending several minutes working out her kinks, all of which brought forth mewls of acceptance and pleasure.

It was several minutes before I realized that Rosemary had unbuttoned her blouse. When she leaned back toward me in her chair and looked up at me, her eyes were clear and plaintive. She then grabbed both of my hands and pulled them downward to cup her full, firm breasts. As my fingers closed around them she exhaled a loud "Uuunn-uunnh!" and looked backward at me again, telegraphing that she wanted more. Her nipples were already hard as she reached behind herself and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to her elbows and revealing two of the finest mammaries I'd ever seen, whether in physiology class or in the back seat of a car. "Rosem...!" I gasped.

"Ssshh, Glen! I want this!" and she reached up to her desk lamp and clicked it off, leaving us in total darkness. What followed was the hurried panting of two people disrobing in the dark, with me trying to find my smock to grab the unopened box of condoms in its pocket. Then I felt her sublime body rub against mine in the blackness, her small hand furtively running to and fro on my erect cock, still slick from the effusions of her friend, Betty Thompson. "Forget the rubbers. It's okay!" she urged, and pulled me down onto her as she leaned backward onto her desk. "Touch me all over, Glen! I wantcha to feel all of meeee!" she mewled, as my fingers rolled her nipples. I did her bidding. My hands covered her entire body, from her shoulders past her breasts, then down over her trembling tummy to her mound. I raked my fingers through her pubic hair and she thrust its wetness up at me with a sudden gasp. I must confess that I wanted to tease her a little, and moved my thumbs down her soaking labia as she whimpered my name.

My eyes had by this time adjusted to the darkness, and I saw the pale majesty of her small body writhing under my touch, desperately seeking contact with whatever appendage I had to offer. Whether fingers, tongue or cock, I gleefully realized that my bitchy boss wanted them all, as I began a deep muscle massage of her curvaceous bottom, thighs and calves, bringing moans of delight from her lips, thrust out in pleading invitations for me to go further...faster.

Stepping closer to her open vulva, I ran my hands under her waist, touching my fingers and attempting to span her entire waist. My thumbs nearly met at her navel and I took much satisfaction in knowing that – eventually – I'd grip her wasp waist this way when in a different position...while we were fucking. There was no hurry. Unlike a few hours earlier with her friend, Ms. Thompson, this would be sweet, not savage.

So, I began kissing and nibbling at her splayed inner thighs from her knees to their heated nexus. Her skin tasted progressively more salty as I gradually lowered my head into the profoundly musky trough between her legs. The first slow, broad lapping of her swollen labia caused her to groan deeply in her throat...a pleasured, feral, feminine sound that came all the way from her torso's diaphragm. It was as if she'd given herself over to an inner force with which she was constantly battling. I sensed that she was surrendering to an implacable code in offering herself to me. I was appalled by this – that she so suddenly wanted me – since previously she'd treated me like an oversized, self-contemptuous lug, a raw-boned boy fifteen years her junior.

As I split her cunt with my tongue, her hips quivered and she thrust up at my mouth, rapidly gasping, "Uhh-uhh-uhh-uhh," as if she were stuttering. She repeated the grunting litany, then did so again. "Oooohh...babeeee...soooo...gooood!" she then whimpered, haltingly. Very gently, she placed her hands on the back of my head and turned her face to one side, and continued mewling the incomprehensible murmurs and babbling of a mature woman in the throes of extreme passion.

Her insides tasted rich and fecund. Her juices bathed my face as I stirred my tongue inside her, then dribbled down her taint to pool on the top of her desk. I swallowed as much as I could of her nectar, until her flow lessened, then began a slow swirling around her clit with the tip of my tongue. Gawd, I loved the sounds she was making...the deep, rasping moans, the bleats, then the quick panting, as I flicked away at her little bud. She was now slowly grinding her pussy up at my demanding mouth...rubbing, rubbing...and the speed of her upward thrusts slowly increased, as did her moaning. She began uttering low grunts at first – every fifteen seconds or so – then their rate increased. "Unh-uuunh...unh-uuunh...unh-uuunh," she called out, then "Uuunnnggghh, uuunnnggghh, uuunnnggghh," as my tongue fluttered faster against her clit. Finally, her hands left the back of my head and she gripped her full breasts, pulling upward on her hard, pink nipples as her head began thrashing back and forth. "Nnnggh...Glennn...sweeet...I'm...ohhh, Glennnn!" she cried, and her labia began crashing against my questing mouth and chin. "You're...ooohh, Ga...! Gawd! I'm cu'...Glennnnnn!" I held her down during her climax – my arms firmly encircling her upraised thighs – for a good two minutes...until her legs flopped apart. She was now relaxed and whimpering little girl sounds in her throat, once again with her hands on my head, but this time softly stroking my wet face.

"I want you inside me," she finally said, grasping for me to rise from my kneeling position on the floor. "Ineedyou inside me. Gawwwd...please fuck me, Glen," she pleaded. "Pleeeze!"

My previous fear of Rosemary had vanished. I'd crossed the frontier of a new province in our relationship. I was the bearer of something she needed, apart from being a mere employee whom she could boss around. I'd matriculated to a new level...one in which I realized that sex could be used to gain influence over someone...evenpower. As I stood she looked down at my rampant cock, now having been hard and pulsating for many minutes. "How? How do you want it?" I asked, tentatively. I truly was at a loss as tohowto pleasure her, so conditioned was I by her constant orders.

"Oooohhh...sweet baby...you know exactly how. Gently, sweetie. Slowly...like I know you can do. Like you love me," she said. Then she began a quiet whining...a soft, though wanton, eerie sound as she reached down to grasp my cock and place it at her opening. Both of us gasped as we made contact, and I hesitated to move forward, instead remaining rooted and allowing her to part the petals of her oozing pussy with the crown of my penis. The soft, liquid, smacking sounds of our blood-filled parts echoed in the darkness as her soft wailing continued. "Now, honey...oh, please, now!" she gasped, and we both thrust at one another, our loins joining hotly – wetly – causing me to close my eyes and see fireworks explode behind my eyelids.

"Aaahh, Jeezus," I groaned, and fell forward onto her, my toes digging into her office carpet. Her arms encircled me immediately, and she began whispering into my ear as we fucked, slowly and languorously.

"Ahh...yeeaahh...baby. Iknewyou'd be good. From the first day. So biiiig...so gentle...so sweet. Gawwd...damn, you're good! Yeah! Just like that, honey. Slow and easy!" she intoned, as I stirred her insides. As I cycled in and out of her, trying to be as inventive as I could given my 20-year-old's sexual experience, I thanked my lucky stars to have been blessed by such a fantastic woman. And, I was amazed as to howeasyit had been. "Feel me inside, sweetheart? Am I good for you? I wanna be good for you. You...uunngh...keep...me...uunngh...happy, and, I'll...uunngh...be extra...good for you, baby. Aaaggh...honey...I love the...uungh...way you, uungh, feel...uunngh...ohh...ohh...Gle...hon...I'm...ohh...ohh...Glennnn! You're gonna...Glen! Hold still! I'm...cummm-mmmiiiing! Awww...oohhh!" And, as Rosemary writhed her way through another galvanic orgasm, I let myself go. From the tips of my toes to the pulses in my brain's frontal lobe, I filled her hot, yawning insides with all the semen I thought remained in my balls. It took minutes of our clutching at one another before we even thought about allowing our bodies to part.

I spoke first. "Can we have some light? I wanta see you," raising myself off her fulsome breasts.

"Sure, hon, you've earned a peek," she said, amusedly, and switched on her desk lamp. Her body was more beautiful than I'd imagined, with its fair, Celtic skin tone, contrasted with the dark, nearly black pubic bush and hair on her head. Though soft looking, she was round in all the right places, without a hint of excess fat. This was a woman whose physique could surpass all those of the previous twenty centuries that were etched in stone, cast in bronze or painted on canvas. In appreciation, I tongue-kissed her between her breasts and rose, turning away, to gather my clothes.

"My Gawd! Glen!" she gasped. As I turned toward her, she said, "Your body! It's been cut to ribbons! Did that slut do that to you?"

"Uuhh...just a few scratches," I said modestly, referring to the lacerations Betty Thompson had made when we'd fucked earlier in the day.

"Honeeey!" she almost shrieked. "Come here and let me help you!" I walked toward her as she pulled a bottle of alcohol and cotton balls out of a drawer. I marveled at what else she might have in her desk, since from there she'd earlier produced a dozen condoms.

I guess some of my lacerations were deeper than I'd thought, since the alcohol caused a lot of stinging. The noises she made in her throat as she swabbed the tears in my flesh – on front and back – were a bit much, I thought. Nevertheless, I felt pampered and attended to, for the first time in several years. Her eyes were misty after she'd finished cleaning my scratches. "All finished?" I asked, embarrassed in my young, male way of betraying any concern at all for such insignificant wounds.

"For now," she said. "But when you get home tonight, take a shower and put on some of this." She reached into her desk drawer and withdrew a tube of antibiotic ointment. "There's no telling what that whore had under her nails." That said, she reached for her underwear and we began dressing.

The phenomenal interlude was over. Before we got to the front door, she said, "I want to kiss you here, since someone might see us outside." She leaned up on tiptoe and brought my face to hers, and her full lips – our first substantive kiss – paralyzed me with a moist, disarming feeling. A quick moan and brush of her tongue across mine promised more, I hoped, but she broke from me and strode to the door. Outside, she reclaimed her distance. Somewhat awkwardly, she reached out to shake my hand, yet her eyes told a totally different message. Being a good employee, I drove home, took a shower as my ego sang congratulatory praises, and fell into bed, looking forward to a Sunday over the books.

Part 3

I didn't dream until morning, when a Gawd-awful drumming kept recurring in my ears. I covered my head with a pillow and it continued. Finally, I realized that it was someone knocking at the door. Groaning, I burrowed more deeply into the pillow, thinking that whomever it was would give up and go away. The persistent knocking continued, though, and I rose, stumbling toward it – clad only in a pair of brief underwear – resplendent with a morning hard-on. Standing behind the door for modesty, I opened it a crack and...there was Rosemary, carrying a large picnic basket and shoulder bag! "Good morning, young man!" she said cheerily, her blue eyes flashing. "Gonna invite me in, or do I have to dress your wounds out here in the hall?"

As sleepy as I was, I snapped fully awake and groped at the hook on the door for my old robe...which I'd left in the bathroom. By this time she'd slipped inside and I stood before her uneasily, my cock rapidly retreating to a flaccid state. "What time is it?" I asked.

"Just after 8," she said. She was dressed in a white, knee-length, sleeveless, full-skirted cotton dress with roses printed on it, showing her incomparable shoulders and firm arms. Its bodice and back were scooped low, and her flesh screamed out to be touched. Her legs were without nylons and she wore black flats on her tiny feet. She also had large, gold hoops in her ears, making her look slightly Hispanic with her black hair. "Didn't sleep well last night," she voiced. So, when my drunken husband rolled in around 4, I got up, made some nice Sunday food for you and me, and thought I'd help you study today. Did you do what I told you last night?" she asked, eyeing closely one of Betty's lacerations on my chest.

'What's that?" I asked, thickly. Her soft fingers had moved to another of Betty's scratches and at that moment an adrenal pulse rolled through my groin, causing my cock to jump twice.

"Did you shower and use the ointment?" she asked, slowly, as if I were a two-year-old. She'd noticed the glandular activity in my groin.

"Ohhh...yeaahh," I responded, absently.

"Good, then c'mere," she said, and jumped up quickly to kiss me. "Whee-uuw," she said, making a sour face. "Go brush your teeth, cutie. I wanta kiss you first. Then I'll have a cigarette." Two minutes later I was back, watching her stow what seemed like tons of food in my refrigerator. I'd donned a pair of khaki shorts, which immediately caused a comment. "Didn't have to dress for me," she said, as she gave me a slow, languorous kiss, splitting my lips with her tongue. "Mmmm...that's more like it," she said, licking her lips lavishly. "Now, coffee?" I grunted acceptance and soon took a cup of instant coffee from her caressing hand. "Take me on a tour, please," she said, which I did.

My apartment was unimpressive. The furniture was early garage sale style. The place's only redeeming feature was an ancient fireplace and a balcony off the bedroom that was the fourth-floor fire escape access. It faced west and was hidden by tall trees, so I'd put two old folding chairs on it to look out over the university neighborhood. We sat on it making small talk, absorbing the morning coolness, and drank coffee as she retrieved a cigarette from her bag next to the bed. I finally said, "Idohave to study today. I've got an Anatomy midterm coming up this week."