A Complete Education Ch.03

I woke up thinking about the fight. Before last night, I hadn't fought anyone—not in the physical sense of the word—since fifth grade. And my mother and I had ended up wrestling. And not in the WWE sense of the word, but like amateur wrestling, with the constant embrace and struggle for control. I was ashamed to have fought her. I was even more ashamed to have been turned on by her close, tense body. But things had changed with my mother ever since the night I saw her and Ms Magunderson.

I got dressed and went downstairs, tempted to slip out the front door, and avoid my mother. But she heard me, and called out cheerfully: "Hey Sean."

"Hi mom," I said.

"I made you some breakfast."

"Great." It seemed like we were just going to pretend that last night hadn't happened. I sat down at the table, and helped myself to some bacon and pancakes. No, this was different. My mother never made breakfast for me on a weekday. She sat down at the table and poured herself some orange juice.

"So we need to talk about last night."

I just continued eating, since it was easier than talking.

"I have to apologize. I was grumpy. I had a bad day," she said, fidgeting with her fork in the silence that followed. "And, I guess it's hard for me to accept that you're growing up and sometime soon you'll move out. I've had issues with trust since your father left."

"Yeah, I'm sorry too. I hope I didn't hurt you."

"No, of course not," she said, drinking her orange juice. "I want you to know that I'm actually really happy that you've got a girl in your life. I'd like to meet her."

I thought of the huge lie that Vernon had concocted for me: that the woman I was showing up at college with was actually my lover. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Well, if you want me to stay out of that part of your life, that's fine too."

"Mom, I've got a big problem," I said, making up my mind to come clean with the lie. She reached across and put a hand on sympathetically on mine. "One of my friends saw me arrive at school with you, and was wondering who you are, and then Vernon started this rumour that you were my girlfriend."

"Oh. Aren't I a little old?"

"Well, they thought you were around 28."

"And don't you have this other girlfriend? Why do you need to pretend?"

"Well, Vernon's idea is that it would make Morag—that's my girlfriend—jealous and feel more attracted to me. Pretty stupid idea."

"Well, Vernon's right about that: sometimes a woman doesn't know she's attracted to a man until she sees that man with another woman. But yeah, it's a stupid idea to pretend that I'm your girlfriend."

"Yeah, that's what I thought, but it's gone so far that I'm not sure I can do anything about it. I feel like it's all out of my control."

"Well, I'm not sure about what advice I can give you."

"Yeah, I just needed to tell someone, because I feel bad about it. I never meant to use you."

"No, I know you didn't, honey. The opposite sex, or sometimes even the same sex, make us do things we don't mean to. If you need to lie, you do it. Don't worry about me."

I smiled at her, relieved that she understood. "Thanks, mom."

"Now eat your breakfast or we're going to be late."

I felt at peace, as we drove to school. One of my two big problems seemed solved, at least somewhat: while I still felt guilty about lying to Morag, at least there would be less chance of being found out. Of course, I still had a tremendous crush on my mother, but I could deal with that.

She pulled up infront in the loading zone. "Any of your friends around?" she asked.

"No," I said, doing a quick glance over my shoulder. "No, wait, there's Oscar."

"Where?"

I pointed to where Oscar was walking across the parking lot, coming in our general direction.

"Okay, give me a kiss," mom said. I didn't think anything of it, as we gave each other a little peck on the cheek most mornings. But as I turned to her, she planted her open lips over mine.

"Play along," she whispered. "I'm doing this for you."

I opened my mouth, my heart beating painfully. I could feel her breath, her lubricious lips.

"Okay, have a good day," she said, breaking the kiss. She smiled warmly at me, a motherly smile. I tried my best to give a sonly smile back, then slipped out of my car.

Oscar was waiting for me by the revolving door. "Dude, she's so hot. You've got to introduce us sometime."

I shrugged, uninterested. "I'm late for class."

"Better wipe the lipstick off. You look totally gay."

I raised my hand to my mouth, and rubbed my lips, then looked at the red stain on my hands. My mother's lipstick. God.

Any other class and I would have skipped out, gone to the washroom, and masturbated. But Ms Magunderson didn't tolerate lateness. I ran through the halls toward the English department, catching the door just as Ms Magunderson was closing it from within. She gave me a frown, but to my relief, didn't say anything. I had a hard time concentrating on Magunderson's class at the best of times. With her tight skirts, white blouses, horn-rimmed glasses and tousled black hair, any guy would be distracted. Some of the girls, too. But today, I couldn't even concentrate on her body. Her body I had seen naked, next to my mother's. Instead, my thoughts went to that latter woman, my mother. We had fought, and we had kissed, like lovers. We had kissed where others had seen us. How great was the threat of discovery? What hung in the balance of our secret? Beyond Vernon, none of my university aquantances had met my mother. And I had met none of her colleagues. We had different last names, since my mother had never changed her's from her maiden name, so we could probably not worry about anyone piecing things together. No doubt she meant nothing sexual by the kiss. No doubt she's merely trying to patch things up after the fight, doing whatever a mother can to earn her son's forgiveness. But what if part of her enjoyed it? What if part of her thrilled at the kiss, as so much of me did? I shook the thoughts back to gorgeous Ms Magunderson just in time:

"Now, Byatt's title is not the first book to play on the anagram of insect and incest. Can anyone tell me another book? Sean?"

I tried to come up with an intelligent response, despite the salacious and appropriate subject of the question.

"Ummm, I'm really not sure."

"I well-read young man such as yourself? Surely you must be able to form a reasonable guess." I felt myself blushing as she sauntered over to the desk. She loved to make her students squirm, and I was completely pinned beneath her gaze. I heard Julie, the girl who sat to my left, giggle.

"Cider House Rules?"

"No."

"The Shipping News?" I guessed, trying to name books that I knew to contain incest. "Think more literary."

"Ada or Ardour?"

"See, I knew you'd be able to form an intelligent guess. I had hoped that since it's the next book on our cirriculum, some eager student had already read that far. But I guess we'll start in on that next week. You should read the first 120 pages by then. Sean, would you mind staying after class? The rest of you can leave."

Their leaving was as rats from a sinking ship, quiet and efficient. Ms Magunderson smiled politely as she watched them go, closed the door behind the last, and locked it. Then she turned to me, walked to the desk immediately in front ot it, and sat down on it, crossing her legs and setting her feet upon the chair.

"Now Sean, I received a curious call from your mother last night."

"Oh?" I said, hoping that this wasn't leading where I thought it was.

"It would seem that you told your mother that I told you that she and I had a sexual relationship. Is that true?" Her manner was poisonously sweet.

"It's actually not exactly true," I said.

"Oh?"

"She asked me if you told me, and I said that it didn't matter."

"Ah, I see." She drummed her fingers on the desktop. "A little misunderstanding. You can go then."

I stood up and started toward the door.

"Although my question would be, then, how did you know?"

"Sorry?"

"You told your mother that you knew that we were having an affair, and she asked if I told you, and you said it didn't matter."

"Correct," I said, beginning to sweat.

"So how did you know we had a relationship?"

I didn't say anything. Ms Magunderson rarely asked a question without already knowing the answer, and I could see her working it out. "You saw us, didn't you, you little pervert. When was it? When we were out in the car? Or that time in the shower? Or when we were on the couch? Or—" she caught something in my face that gave me away. "On the couch? That time? With the shampagne bottle? Where were you, at the top of the stairs?"

I shook my head.

"Tell me where," she command, her voice rising almost to a yell.

"Behind the couch."

"Oh my god, you are a little pervert. Were you back there masturbating while your mother and I fucked? God, that disgusts me." She shifted her legs, and I couldn't help looking down. "Sit down," she said, and I started to sit in the chair closest to me, the one that happened to be closest to the door.

"Not there, over here," she said, pointing to the chair infront of her. Again, I did as she asked.

"This may be hard for you to understand, but I love your mother. In the the sense of an errant fling, but in the sense of real, deep, comantic love. Like I've never loved another person. And I'll be damned if you screw it up or do anything to turn her against me."

I nodded dumbly, as she stood, stepped forward, and then slid onto my desk, her legs dangling off the side. "However, since you're going to do what I say, and help things work out between her and I, I suppose I can make it worth your while," she said, and unbuttoned the top button of her blouse. "Do you understand what I mean by that?"

I was pretty sure I understood, but I couldn't stand to admit it.

"By worth your while, I mean blow your fucking mind." She swung her legs around, one suddenly on either side of me, her skirt hiked up above the tops of her stockings.

The door rattled, someone trying to get in, and I started to rise, but Ms Magunderson didn't even flinch. She put her hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down into my seat.

"Wow, that's a lot to think about," I said. "Can I have some time to think about it?"

"There's nothing for you to think about. This isn't a negotiation," she said, unbuttoning a couple more buttons. Her shirt hung open down to her skirt, and I could see her white bra beneath, and where it deftly sculpted her cleavage together into two gently touching orbs.

"You like my breasts?" she asked, reaching her hand inside her shirt, and I looked away.

"Don't look away. Do you like my breasts?"

"Yes," I stammered, looking back at them.

"Good. You like to watch me touch them?"

"Yes," I admitted, the word coming easier this time.

"Yeah, you like to watch, you pervert. You ever done more than just watched? You ever fucked, Sean?"

I opted for honesty, and shook my head.

"Oh? You're a virgin? Your mother was right. That's a rarity at your age. You aren't saying that just to turn me on?"

"No."

"Have you kissed a girl?"

"Yes," I said, my thoughts going back to my mother this morning.

"How much have you done?" she asked, her hand working her left breast more actively.

"Ummm, I've made out. I've been between a woman's breasts."

"Like a titfuck?"

"Uh, yeah. And I've had a handjob, And a bit of oral." I said, embarrassed enough by what I said to elaborate and say that all of that had happened within the last 48 hours.

"That's all good, but it's not fucking. What do you say, Sean? How'd you like to lose that pesky virginity right here and now?"

I was floored. I couldn't believe this was all happening. It was too much, too fast for me to comprehend.

"Go ahead, stick your hand up my skirt," she gasped, pulling her shirt wider open, then shrugging her bra-straps down. Each of her hands slipped inside one of those wide bra-cups. I did as she asked, sliding my fingers up the inside of her thigh, very gently, cautiously. I felt her panties, silky and moist, and stroked them gently.

"Don't be a fucking pussy," she sneered.

"Sorry," I said, drawing my hand away.

"No, put your hand back," she said, taking my wrist with both her hands and pulling my hand up into her crotch. "There's a time for being gentle, but this isn't it. Molest me. Mmmm, that's better," she moaned as pulled her panties to the side and pushed the flat of my hand against her moist quim.

"You're a virgin, you've got years of pent up lust. Use it. How old are you, nineteen?"

"Yeah," I moaned, barely hearing her.

"I already had my fifty mission cap when I was your age. I fucked so much. But I did it just for the sake of fucking. I liked the idea of it. But my body didn't work as well as it does now. Get your fingers inside me. I'm a well-oiled fucking machine, now."

"Uh," I articulated, staring back at her breasts.

"Your cock is hard, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Take it out. No, keep that hand inside me," she said wrapping her thighs tightly around my hand. "Keep fingerfucking me."

I did as she instructed, using my left hand to unfasten my belt, my right hand still lodged inside her.

"Yeah, that's nice. Not bad at all," she said, looking down at my cock as it emerged from my pants. "There's something about raw, virgin cock. You know how lucky you are? Most guys lose their virginity to some awkward, fumbling girl. But not you, you lucky little pervert."

I moaned.

"You like that? You like it when I call you a pervert?"

I nodded, unsure of why the word got me turned on.

She adjusted her glasses. "Cause that what you are, a little perverted momma's boy who gets hot for the authority figures in his life. His momma and his teacher. I bet you like lady cops, too, huh? Or lady doctors or nurses? And nuns?"

I nodded. She had me pegged.

"Yeah, probably has to do with you coming from a broken household," she said, reaching down and wrapping her hand around my cock. "Yeah, there's a lot of guys with those types of fantasies. But how many had a teacher as hot as me, and how many got to fuck her?"

She stood suddenly, hooked her fingers under her panties, pulled them down to the floor and stepped out of them, then harshly pushed the desk out of the way, then pulled my trousers and my shorts down around my knees.

"Maybe I should make you eat me, first. Would you like that? To eat my pussy?"

I nodded.

"Say it."

"I'd like that."

"You'd like what? Say it."

"I want to eat your pussy."

"Want?"

"Need. I need to eat you."

"That's better. If you need to, then I guess I'd better let you."

She straddled me, then hooked one leg over my shoulder, her high-heel sticking down between my back and the chair, her pussy pressing in against my face. I moaned, and stuck out my tongue, licking at her clit.

"Don't just tease me, eat me. If I wanted someone gentle, I would have asked Julie to stay. Perverts shouldn't be gentle."

I immediately remembered the previous week. She had asked Julie to stay after class. Was this what they were doing? When I thought about it, it wasn't the first time she asked Julie to stay. I pushed my whole face against her pussy, feeling her juices against my nose, stinging my eyes, mixing with my saliva.

"Mmmm, that's hot," she said, humping against me. "Yeah, I like fucking your face. Fucking your big nose," she said as her lips spread open against me. "Now lick my clit," she said, pressing her finger against it as a visual aid, though I had to lean back enough to see where she was indicating. I tilted my head further back and began licking.

"Yeah, fuck your slutty teacher."

"Oh yeah, you're such a slut," I moaned.

"What did you say?" she said, stepping back from me.

"Nothing," I mumbled.

"No, you called me a slut, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"That's good. That's the first dirty thing you've said all day." She pressed her pussy against my face again.

"It's good to talk dirty. I love talking dirty. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's people who limit their vocabulary, either to . Copulate can be a dirty word, if you say it right. Or mate. As in, I'm about to mate with my best friend's son."

I moaned.

"I'm a slut. What else?"

"Huh?"

"What other words, beside slut."

"Whore?" I called up from beneath her gyrating hips.

"Uh huh," she moaned. "What else?"

"Bitch?"

"Yeah."

"Tramp. Strumpet. Prostitute. Courtesan."

"I like that one. So proper. More, baby."

"Harlot. Filthy cunt."

"Oh!" She reached down behind her back and grasped me in her hand, sliding her pussy down over my shirt as she did so. She lowered herself until her pussy rested just against the head of my cock.

"A man is forever owned by the woman who claims his virginity. And you're mine." She plunged down, and my cock flared up inside her. I closed my eyes, then opened them to find her eyes only inches from my own. "I think you'll find it's not such a bad thing to be owned. To be a possession. I take care of my possessions." She lifted up, and plunged down again, harder this time, not stopping but bouncing back up.

"Yeah, that's a nice phallus. So thick and hard," she arched her back, and led my mouth to those breasts. I raised a hand to one breast, while I sucked on the other, sucking as much as I could into my mouth, then closed my teeth against her nipple. I couldn't believe how good it felt: the heat of her quim wrapped around me, working up and down on me.

"Imagine if your mother found out that we fucked. Imagine if she walked in on us right now."

"I'd fuck her too," I said, feeling liberated by Ms Magunderson's pussy.

"Oh yeah, that's so nasty. Make her eat my pussy while you fuck her hard?"

"Yeah. Then make her suck my balls while I fuck you."

"Oh god, Sean." She reached down behind her back and stroked my balls as she slipped up and down. "You can tease my ass." She said it pleadingly, and I understood now how the tables were turning. I reached around and squeezed her ass, slipped a finger down to her stretched pussy, and coated it with her juices, then slipped it back up to her asshole, and pressed.

"Oh, be gentle," she cooed.

"I'm not gentle. I'm a pervert." I slipped my finger in a couple inches, to the second joint, and she cried out loudly, then buried her head in my shoulder, whimpering. Was it painful for her? Or just really intense? She kept riding.

"You like that, you whorish teacher? You like my finger in your ass?"

She moaned.

"Say it."

"I love it, I love your finger in my ass."

"Yeah, you love being sodomized by my finger," I said, attempted to say it firmly even as my voice cracked.

"I'm gonna cum," she moaned, throwing one of her legs over my shoulder to plunge down even deeper against me. She kissed me for the first time, a gentle, passionate kiss, and I slipped my tongue into her mouth. "Oh yes, you pervert!"

"I'm cumming too," I moaned, and thrust my hips up. She clutched my head to her breasts, and our bodies rocked back and forth together, quaking with our orgasms. It was so incomparable to what I had experienced previously, masturbating or even sliding between Morag's breasts.

I lay beneath her tremoring body, my cock still hard within her. I knew that I was late for my next class. I didn't care. I had fucked my hot teacher. As Ms Magunderson said, how many guys could honestly say that?

She stood, and gave me a contemptuous look. "Pervert." She began buttoning up her shirt, then looked down to where my cum was leaking out of the inside of her pussy, down her thigh.

"Lick it up," she said, apparently back in control. "Lick me clean."

"I leaned forward, and slurped my cum from her thigh, unable to resist her command. How had it happened that I had taken control during sex? As I gagged a bit, swallowing my ejaculate, I tried to understand how it was possible that during sex, I had controlled this woman who completely terrified me.