What Am I Doing Here?

A brief note to the reader: Immediately after this story ends,The author asks a brief question. Please read the question and

Offer your reply. It would be appreciated. One other note: The age of consent in New York State, where this story takes place, is 17 years. All of the students in this story were 18 years old. Mrs. Huffman is 31 years old, divorced, and has no children. She is 5'4", weighs 120 lbs., is brunette and has small but pert tits.

THE STORY:

I got out of my car. There were only two other cars parked in the lot. One was Jeff Bannon's; I didn't recognize the other. Quickly, before I changed my mind, I walked to the door of the cabin and knocked. God, I hated myself, hated myself for being here.

The door opened. It was Jeff. "Hello, Mrs. Huffman, you're right on time," he said. He had that Jeffery smirk on his face. "Come on in."

I hate him

It was his parents' weekend getaway cabin that I was getting ready to step into. His parents were away, vacationing in Europe, skiing or something. Who knew? Anyhow, he had access to the cabin, and now, here I was, too.

Jeff stepped away from the entrance and waved me in to the cabin.

Yeah. He wasn't alone. I hadn't really thought he would be. I had hoped he would be, but I didn't really think that would be the situation. The cabin's living room was well lit, and, after my eyes became accustomed to the light, I saw them there. Five of them, counting Jeff. They were looking at me, and they, each of them, had those ugly, smirking smiles on their faces. Bastards! I stepped in. Jeff closed the door behind me. I wondered if there was any way that I would be able to get out of here without what I was pretty sure was going to be some real ugliness. I looked around, trying to identify the guys in the room. Just then a door at the back of the room opened and I saw Harold McCarthy come in to the room from the bathroom.

"Hey, Mrs.Huffman finally got here," he uttered to no one in particular. "Why didn't one of you call and tell me she was here?" He was buttoning up the fly of his jeans as he talked. Harold was another of the students that I disliked. He was obnoxious, rude, sarcastic, inattentive--- a real misery in the classroom. A real misery everyway. It was obvious that he hadn't even washed his hands after using the facility. His face exploded into a smile, "Hey, Mrs. Huffman, we sure are glad that you got here."

"Well, I got here," I answered. "I don't know why we had to meet this way, but I am here," I added. Jeff had promised that the pictures would be returned to me but that we would have to "discuss things" first. I wanted those pictures back. Shit, I needed to have them back.

"Why don't you come in, sit down?" Jeff said. "Come on in, Mrs. Huffman," he added, "We're all just here for a friendly conversation." Now his smile was no longer smirking. It was thinner, harder meaner. It was demanding.

He had no right to be demanding to me, no right whatsoever! I just stood there, not moving. I let my eyes sweep around the room to see who was there. There were six of them, four of them the original group of students who had engaged in my gangbang, their group fuck of their teacher. The two others, Francis Locanni and Clay Fenner had joined the group of young men using my body after the original gangbang. If there was anyway I could eliminate these boys, rid the world of them, I would. Oh I would have, and the world would be better for it. If I could just get them out of my life, I would. Disgusting slobs, I hated them.

Jeff came nearer. He reached out and took my hand in his. "Gee, Mrs. Huffman," he said, "Don't be mad. We just wanted to talk about, you know, everything." He tried to pull me into the center of the room. I shook his hand loose from mine. I was shaking, but I wasn't going to let him see it. I wasn't going to let any of them see it.

"Don't touch me," I said.

"Ah, you're mad," he said. He looked from me to the boys in the room. "Mrs. Huffman is mad." He said. "But she don't have any reason to be angry, does she?" he asked them. "We just asked you to visit with us so we could have a nice friendly discussion, that's all."

He came nearer. He reached out his hand and put it on my waist. "We always have nice, friendly discussions, don't we? Like we do in class' So why be so angry? Why can't we just get along?" His voice was wheedling, insistent, insincere. His thin, slit of a bottom lip jutted out.

The other boys in the room just looked at us, wondering what would happen next. A couple of them were smiling. All of them had those hungry looks on their faces. Why was this happening to me, I thought. Why was I in this situation? I still hadn't moved. And then Jeff suddenly reached out with his other hand and thrust it between my legs under the hem of my skirt all the way through to the other side.

He pushed his hand upwards, his wrist lifting the skirt, baring the back of my legs to the room up to nearly the swell of my buttocks. His hand reached toward my privates. The back of his hand brushed against my thighs. His fingers grabbed at my crotch.

"Oh, you're wearing those ugly cotton panties," he said. "The least, I thought, you'd be wearing thongs."

"Or maybe no panties at all," yelled one of the boys in the room, I think it was Augie Lewis, Augustus Lewis III.

I was breathing hard, in short quick breaths now, my face getting red. Jeff's hand had just touched my clitoris, and I felt my knob swell at the touch. I pushed his hand down and away from under my skirt. He didn't resist. But he did have hold of my waist. He urged me further into the room. "Come on, Mrs. Huffman, let's just sit down on the couch so we can talk," he said. He continued to lead, pull me towards the couch. Two of the boys, Augie and Buckingham Mulligan (Big Buck), who had been sitting there, stood up. I tried to let them know I was going along here but that I was going to make my demands when we began to talk. I moved slowly as Jeff continued to impel me towards the couch. I hated these boys, all of them, all of them my tormentors. As I neared the couch I felt it happening. I hated them, these disgusting young men. I felt my vagina begin to wet. I hated my vagina. I hated me! It was dripping.

We squeezed onto the couch, me between Jeff and Francis. Our hips were touching. I pulled my skirt down, but it would only half cover my knees. I kept my knees tight together. The boys sitting opposite were staring at my legs.

The room was quiet.

This was awful. The last three months of the school year had been like this. The boys staring at my legs, my ass, my boobs, making lascivious comments under their breath when I passed by, touching my behind when they could sneak those touches without the other students noticing. It had been constant torture. My stupid cunt kept right on wetting itself! I kept on letting them do all those things.

Jeff put his hand on my knee. He moved his hand up under my skirt. His hand stopped there, just a couple of inches above my knee and he gripped hard my leg just above the knee. On the other side, Francis casually threw his arm behind my back and over my shoulder. He turned his body three quarters of the way, facing me. I shuddered. I felt the nipples of my breasts stiffen.

"Stop this," I said. I gripped Jeff's hand and pulled it away from my knee. I grabbed Frank, Francis' arm and lifted it from my shoulder. I threw his arm back off of me and onto his lap. "Stop this," I repeated. "Look," I addressed the room in as stern a voice as I could muster. "I came here today for just one reason. Jeff promised that he would return the pictures you took that time. He promised. He said that he would return them and I only needed to show up." I turned to Jeff, "Isn't that true?" I asked.

The little bastard just smiled.

"What I said was the truth. Answer!"

"You can't handle the truth," was his answer. The idiot child used Jack Nickelson's line whether it fit the situation or not.

"You said nothing else would happen. You let me think that there wouldn't be any, you know, sex."

"Why did you think we wanted you here?"

Francis put his hand back onto my shoulder. Once again, I grabbed him at the wrist and took his hand off as forcibly as I could. "You said you wouldn't have me do sex with you. You said that you would give me the pictures. You said that I just needed to come here to talk. That's what you said!" My voice was loud, determined. I wasn't going to plead with them.

Frank put his hand back on me, this time draping his hand over my shoulder and towards my breast. "Get your hands off of me, you stinking pervert," I was almost shouting. I pushed his arm off of me.

"Who's the pervert? You the one who's been fucking her students!" Frank said.

"I don't want to discuss this. I just want the pictures back." My voice dropped, "I only had sex with you because I had no choice."

"What? You picked me up outside of the drugstore in your car and we fucked in the end of the mall parking lot. I made you do it?" That was Jeff.

"Yes, you made me. You know that."

"You liked it. You came. Don't deny it." That was Buck Mulligan chiming in.

"Stop this right now!" I was screaming now. "I am not going to have sex with you boys again. Not now, not ever again. I AM NOT."

The room was quiet.

This had gone on entirely too long. Yes, we had had sex, me with four of them the night of the school Mardi Gras. I had been stupid. I had had a couple of drinks too many. I was a little drunk, a little more than a little. And I am sure that they had put something in my drink, ecstasy or some other drug. Probably more than one drug. Oh my god, I was woozy. And so out of it. I was awake, but I couldn't do or even say anything as they undressed me. I was barely able to react. "We just want you to be comfortable," they were saying as they unbuttoned my blouse. "Don't worry. We just want to see," I could just about make out their saying as they lifted me and took off my panties. "Oh, Mrs. Huffman, you are so beautiful," I heard one of them saying in some far away voice. I knew what was happening, vaguely, in a disjointed way, but I couldn't act. I understood what was happening. I knew it was wrong. I knew I had to stop it, but I was unable to speak a coherent word. By the time it really started to happen I was barely conscious. By the time the second or third of them got on me to fuck me, I was unconscious. And when I finally began to waken, when they were on their third round of sticking their penisis into me, I could hear them talking about how beautiful they were saying I was, how nice, how good. All I knew was that my cunt was soaking wet from their cum, that my thighs and pubic hair were full of dried cum. And as they fucked me then I couldn't do anything but hold on to the boy who was then fucking me and say "yes, go on" or whatever else they asked me to say.

And suddenly I was here, back in the cabin. Back in the present situation. "You blackmailed me after the night you raped me. It was blackmail, pure and simple with those pictures. You blackmailed me every time after that I had sex with any one of you.

"You promised me the last time. You promised me Jeff, that you would give me the pictures. When I agreed to meet with you tonight, here, it was only after you gave me your word of honor that you would return the pictures. You promised that I wouldn't have to sleep with you. You promised."

Damn it. Damn it, I was begging!

"You promised? You told her that she wouldn't have to fuck us tonight?" It was Clay. Clay Fenner. He asked that of Jeff.

"Come on Clay, get with it." That was Jeff again. "Jesus, this is the third time I promised her the pictures and we fucked instead. How do you think you got to fuck her? I told her that she would get the pictures if she just took care of you and Frank. And when was that, fuckin' three, four weeks ago." The room was quiet still. I was thinking that Clay would help me, maybe. Then Jeff continued, "Figure it out, Clay." He pointed his finger at me, "She knows what's going to happen. And she loves it. She loves our pricks in her cunt. She's a slut."

And all the time I just listened to his talking. He was lying. I wasn't here because I wanted them to fuck me. I hated them. I wanted the pictures back. They promised.

I stood up. "You promised. You did. I just want the pictures, and I want to get out of here. Haven't you had done enough to me?"

"Hey, she just said she wanted the pictures. She didn't say nothing about not wanting to fuck us." That was Harold.

"I want to get out of here. I want to get the pictures and go home," I said.

"You loved it. Don't lie." Stupid, ugly Harold.

"I did not! Just give me the pictures." I was still standing. I could feel my breasts rising and falling with my breathing. "I had sex with you...."

Jeff interrupted before I could say any more. He raised his voice."You fucked us. What's this stupid 'I had sex.?' You didn't have no sex. You FUCKED. You put our pricks in your cunt. You gave us blow jobs. And I'll tell you something else, you came plenty. You were getting off. You loved it."

The room was quiet. They were watching me. I didn't know what to say.

Jeff took advantage of the pause. "Gee, Mrs. Huffman. You were our teacher. We loved you. You were a great teacher. But admit it, you are one hot teacher. I mean, hot. Those long legs of yours and your short skirts. And those tight blouses. And your tight skirts around your ass, we could see if you were wearing panties or thongs.."

"I was just trying to dress nice. Nicely," I corrected myself, I was still their teacher. "I never intended that I end up sleeping with any of you." Truly, I didn't. I only wanted to look nice. That's all. I knew that I looked alright. I was aware that I had good legs and that my buns were nice and tight. I went to the gym three times a week. I knew my breasts showed against my blouses and that they looked good. But boys were supposed to have some control over themselves, people were.

Clay got up from the chair he was sitting in. "You liked it when we fooled around in your office. You didn't stop me when I felt your tits. You spread your legs when I touched your twat. You were wet down there."

I thought that Clay, at least, of all of them, that Clay would be sympathetic. He was one of the better students. Real nice. And he was one that I thought attractive. But he too.

I couldn't control my breathing anymore. My breasts were moving up and down with my breathing. I was gulping air down through my mouth. I couldn't get enough air. I was not going to cry. "Please," I said, "Please. I just want to get the pictures. I just want to leave. Please."

Everyone got quiet. Finally, Clay spoke up again. "Ahh, give her the pictures, Jeff. Just give em to her.

"I thought we were going to have a nice party, a real gang bang," said Jeff.

I didn't know why he was being so hateful.

"Just give her the pictures," Clay repeated. He looked at Jeff.

Jeff didn't say anything. He looked as if he was thinking. I sat back down to give him time to decide.

He didn't say anything. He looked around the room. Finally, he let his eyes meet mine. "Ok, follow me," he said.

He got up. I stood up and followed him. He went to the door on the right side of the room and went in. I followed him to the door but waited outside. It was a bed room. I could see a dresser and a big bed as well as a couch and a wardrobe closet. There was another bathroom at the end of the room. He walked over to the dresser and looked my way. "Come on in, what are you waiting for?" he said. "You want it, or don't you?"

I still didn't go into the room. Behind me the rest of the group was quiet, watching to see what I would do next. I just stood there at the entrance, waiting for I don't know what.

Finally Jeff moved to the night stand next to the bed and opened its drawer. "The pictures are here," he said.

"Let me see them," I said. I hadn't moved from the doorway.

"They're here. Right here," he said pointing to the open drawer. "Come on in and look for yourself."

I moved just a foot or so into the room.

He walked away from the night stand and stood right next to the open door. "What are you afraid of? It's just me," he said. He took my hand and led me into the room towards the night stand next to bed, kicking the door first so that it swung nearly closed.

I was standing right next to the open drawer of the night stand now. I looked down into the open drawer. There was an envelope there and there were a bunch of condoms partially covering the envelope. "What is this about? Why did you make me walk over here? Are the pictures in the envelope?" I asked.

The next thing I knew, he sort of touched my stomach and I was sitting on the bed. My hand was in the drawer, but Jeff put his hand over mine. "It's the pictures," he said, and he sat down next to me on the bed.

I was still trying to pull the envelope from the drawer when he put his arm on my chest between my breast and my shoulder and gave me a gentle push. Before I knew it, I was laying down on the bed, my legs, though, still off the bed and my feet on the floor. The next thing I knew, Jeff had his body over mine, his face above mine, his chest pushing against mine. I started to protest, but he began to kiss me. He thrust his tongue past my lips and into my mouth. I tried to say something, tried to get him to stop, but his mouth over mine, his tongue in my mouth stopped me from saying anything. I tried to move my body away from his, but after pushing and pulling all that resulted was that now my feet were off the floor and all of my body was on the bed. One of my shoes had fallen off, his hand was under my skirt and pushing up towards my panties and I still wasn't able to say anything.

His hand between my legs was forcing my knees apart. "Stop," I was finally able to say.

"Aww, come on, Mrs. Huffman," he was saying, "Come on, just a little bit, just one more time," he said.

"Please," I said. "Please, stop. Please, you promised."

His hand was now all the way up against my panties and he had pushed my skirt all the way up past my waist, bunched together there and exposing my legs and my cunt to his hands."You're so beautiful. I love you," he said.

"Stop, stop, stop. Please. You promised. Please stop," I was saying as his hands continued their groping. One hand pulled my panties down mid thigh. His other hand was gripping my buttocks, squeezing. And I felt his hand on my cunt. His finger was pushing against my clit. He was rubbing his finger against my clit in a circular motion. In spite of myself, I felt my vagina getting wet. I Wanted him to stop, but I was getting so excited. "Please, please, please, please," I kept on repeating.

"Please, what?" he said.

"Please," was all I was able to say. I murmured it into his ear. "Please," I repeated over and over into his ear.

"Please, what," he persisted.

His finger didn't stop its pressure against my clit. His other hand was trying to separate my knees further apart, but my panties around my calves kept my legs from separating. I didn't even know what the 'please, please' I kept on muttering meant. Please, what, I didn't know.

Finally, I was able to whisper, my voice was weak, barely loud enough for him to hear, "please stop."

"You don't really mean that," he said. He had his leg between mine and his foot was pushing my panties all the way down to my ankles and then off my ankles.

"Please stop," I whispered again but this time my voice was so low I didn't think he could even hear it, I was breathing so loudly and he was repeating, "Mrs. Huffman, Mrs. Huffman," and there was no way he could hear me. Suddenly I could feel his prick against me. I could feel it through his pants. It was hard against my groin. My skirt was above my waist. I didn't have panties on anymore. He was unbuttoning my blouse. Now his belt was undone and he was shimmying out of his pants, his arms over mine, his mouth over mine and his tongue in my mouth.