An Inappropriate Nightcap

There was a palpable sense of relief when the final bell rang at the end of another school term. The children are hasty, chairs scraping on the tiled floor so that my well wishes for the coming summer break are well and truly drowned out. It's a cacophony of noise as they excitedly leave my room, loudly talking over one another about plans for the break until the noise dwindles into the distance and I am finally left alone with my thoughts and the motes of dust in the afternoon light.

I lean back and push my glasses up to rest on my increasingly creased forehead, battle scars from a tiring and draining career. My hands drag over cheeks and into my short blonde hair, and I close eyes as my body finally relaxes. All I want to do is to curl up and sleep for the summer, perhaps see if James wants to go away somewhere. Of course he won't want to - he was always far too busy with work. But he's paid well, and because of the hours he sinks in we can both live comfortably in a very nice house, and I can teach what I am passionate about without having to worry about bills.

Or at least it was something I had been passionate about. Passion wasn't really something I dealt with in my life anymore.

My eyes shoot open when a knock comes at my already open door. I turn my head to see my friend Claire peeking around it with a large smile on her face. She's about ten years younger than me, with long dark hair that comes down past her shoulders, a pleasant hourglass figure I was quite envious of, and a smile that was as genuine as you could ever hope to see. She keeps me young.

"You coming to the bar with us?" she asks.

"God no. All I want to do is sleep."

Claire rolls her eyes at me and steps into my room, heels clicking on the tiles as she approaches my desk and takes a seat on the corner of the marked wood.

"Come on Jess. You have six weeks to sleep. And you haven't been out with us in months. You don't even have to stay out late - just a few drinks."

I bite my lower lip and consider. It's more tempting than I'd admit to Claire, and I know there's nothing waiting for me at home as James is away on business abroad. I cluck my tongue at that - it's nice that he gets to go away and see places, but when I suggest we do something he is just as likely to tell me he's been there as he is to tell me he's too busy.

"I have nothing to wear." I say, my voice feeble so it is clear that I know it's a pathetic argument. Even Claire knows that.

"You think I'm getting changed? I just want to drink until I can't remember this last term, who gives a fuck what we're wearing? Come on Jess, you look fine." Claire said, already walking back to the door and giving me little choice but to agree. And besides it might be fun I tell myself as I pack up my bags for the year, return them to my car and await a taxi with Claire and Rachel in the staff room.

"So where are we going?" I ask them. Rachel turns to me, vape resting casually between her fingers as she blows a cloud of vanilla smelling smoke between us. Rachel is the Spanish teacher, and the youngest of the three of us having just qualified as a teacher last year. Her hair is short and purple, and her clothing sits just on the right line of appropriate for a teacher. I've certainly heard plenty from the lads in my class about what they think of Ms. Valentine.

"Thought we'd try one of the college bars" she says coolly, perhaps not overly enamored with a woman almost twice her age coming on a night out and cramping her style. If anything it made me more determined to go out, to show this young woman that I could still have fun, even if the idea of going to a college bar sounds ghastly.

"Fine by me" I tell her, holding her gaze, and I catch the sight of Claire grinning beside me.

"Excellent. Shots are on you then when we get there then."

Thankfully shots aren't on the menu at the restaurant we decide to go to first - it's early yet, and I know I'm certainly not young anymore to drink from the moment I step outside of the school. It's also an excuse to relax with a few glasses of wine with friends, to unbutton the top of my white blouse so I'm showing a little more skin off, and enjoy the year being finally done.

When we leave the restaurant the sun is starting to go down and Rachel leads us into a taxi that drives us down a few roads to a tired looking bar called Ramseys. Immediately I think both the music is too loud and that I'm far too overdressed in my white blouse, blue skirt and light blue shoes. The bouncers let us in and I watch as their eyes linger on both Claire and Rachel, but barely give me a second glance.

I feel like mutton dressed as lamb, even more so when I step into a bar with people still in college. Eyes glance at us all but everyone is friendly enough, going about their own conversations while we head to the bar. As promised I get shots of tequila for us all, along with a glass of our selected poison for the evening. Glasses are clinked together, and the liquor goes down like fire, making me wince and gag slightly - I have never enjoyed shots - as we move away from the bar and towards a little corner of the establishment to people watch.

Before the hour is out my extremities feel numb and my words are beginning to slur slightly. Both Rachel and Claire have bought rounds, and so it is my turn to buy once more. I move with an unsteady gait to the bar and lean against it, holding up a battered note in my hand in an effort to get the attention of the bar staff.

"Mrs. Joseph?"

I turn to look for the voice that called my name out so formally beside me and see radiant green eyes smiling down at me, set in a handsome face. It's a face I recognise, though I don't do so immediately. Instead I squint up at him with a furrowed brow of concentration.

"Jason Yardley?" I say tentatively, and I'm rewarded with a boisterous laugh that assures me that this is indeed the young man whom I taught before, though he's not so young anymore. Far from it.

Jason was a student of mine four... five... years ago now. He was one of those you always remembered - friendly, funny, good at sports - especially rugby because of his tall physique - and popular with almost everyone. I'd guess he must be at university - perhaps even finished. I can still remember that smile that he's now showing me. He'd grown taller, and his broad shoulders from school had remained, though he'd now grown large arms to go with them. His hair was different too - at school it had been a little shaggy, but now it was well kept and slicked to the side.

"I can't believe you remembered me!" he says earnestly, his strong hand on my shoulder. Was he always this handsome? I wonder as I look up into his emerald eyes that twinkle slightly from the lights in the bar.

"Of course I do Jason" I respond before I'm finally served at the bar. Slightly befuddled from the distraction that my former student has given me, I hastily order the round and then turn back to him.

"You're legal, right?"

Jason laughs and then nods. "Just a bottle of beer if you're offering."

I add it to my order and then hand him the bottle when it arrives. He then sees the multiple glasses before me and, being the generous man he is, offers to help carry some over to my friends. For the briefest moment I feel a pang of jealousy that I will have to share his company with Claire and Rachel until I remember I'm married and he's much, much too young to be interested in someone like me.

Rachel immediately bats her lashes at him as he hands over their drinks but, to my surprise, he shifts his body to face me after he has introduced himself to the two of them, his face still lit up with that same happy smile he wore throughout the time I taught him.

"So, are you still teaching kids the rude parts from Shakespeare?"

I splutter my drink and cough back a laugh, remembering a time when I had been excited to teach all the kids that came through my doors. Now, much like the rest of my life, I'm going through the motions and doing the bare minimum required. I'm still over twenty years away from retirement and already I've lost my love for my job. "Sometimes" I lie to him with a smile and take a sip of my drink.

We share stories with one another, learning a little of what the other has been up to. He ended up taking up English Literature at university, apparently partly my doing. He goes on to tell me that he's now back home and thinking of taking up teaching. "That might be your fault too" he tells me, and it draws a blush to my cheeks.

Such is the way we're caught up with one another that I don't even notice when my friends move to talk to some other men in the bar. And when his friends come to tell him that they're moving onto another bar, he makes his excuses and tells them that he'll catch up with them later. It's when he offers to buy me a drink that the now almost tiny, sober part of my brain wonders whether there's anything in this.

I accept, even though I'm officially wobbly now. I'm leaning on the table when he returns. Drunkenly I tell him that this is, most definitely, my last one tonight. Jason laughs, we touch glasses, and then continue to talk about the days I spent teaching him and all the things that have changed since. Occasionally I notice him eyeing the golden bands around my fingers, though he never says anything to me about them.

Its two drinks later when I stumble from the bar and into the night with an equally drunk Jason, with his strong arm around my waist to keep me upright, though I'm really not drunk enough that I feel like it's likely that I'll fall. Still, when there's a handsome man with his arm around your waist, you don't tell him to let go. I turn to thank him for keeping me company, seeing that Rach and Claire had been long gone, and his hands grip my hips and his mouth drops to mine.

Such a brief spark it is we share. He pulls away quickly and stumbles an apology from the lips that had just been pressed to mine. I run my tongue along my bottom lip quickly, tasting a hint of him. There's a brief silence between us and I glance at the waiting taxis. The next words come out slowly and the drink is not entirely responsible for them.

"Would you like to come back to mine for a nightcap?" I ask him and that cute smile returns to replace the guilt that had been there before. I take his hand and lead him to a cab and we sit in the backseat of the taxi in relative silence, my hand in his for the short journey back to my empty home.

I stumble up the drive to my huge house. "How can you afford such a big house? I thought teachers got paid jackshit?" Jason asks from behind me as I fumble for my keys in my handbag. "I can't, but my husband can." I tell him honestly as I pull my keys free and, on the third attempt, unlock the door and step into the large hallway of my home.

We're greeted by the shrill noise of my house alarm. I take a few steps forward and prod the four rubber buttons to make it stop. When it finally does, I feel possessive hands on my hips from behind me and then lips against my neck, a sensation so good that my eyes close and I groan out, my own hands reaching back to grip at the black denim of his jeans.

"This isn't a night cap" I tell him breathlessly as I feel him bunch my skirt into his fists so that my legs are slowly exposed. I can feel his desire for me in the short, hot breaths against my neck and the way his strong body presses me against the wall.

"We can always stop?" he rasps into my ear and I find myself shaking my head - as soon as he kissed me, as soon as he agreed to come back with me, I knew what I wanted from this night.

Just one night where I don't feel like I'm going through the motions. Just one night where I can feel desired again. I can't even really blame the alcohol - I think, even sober, the attention he gave me would have been enough for me to want something more than a quick kiss outside of a seedy bar.

My skirt is up past my plain white cotton panties now. I expect a glib comment about them, about the lack of effort I've made, but all I get is his fingers moving between the elastic and my body and the sensation of them being pulled down.

"Here?" I ask him, my voice slightly incredulous, and Jason pauses with my ass now exposed. His lips return to my neck and he continues to kiss me while asking where I want him to take me. Does he know how difficult a question that is? That I don't feel like I can just drag him to my marriage bed and have him take me in it? Eventually I decide to make that decision later and turn around to kiss him properly, and start to lead him to the stairs.

First my pumps come off, then his trainers. We both giggle as we reach the bottom step, neither of us letting go of the other. My fingers clumsily undo his short-sleeved flannel shirt as his pull at my blouse, and by the time we're at the landing our shirts are laying haphazardly on the stairs.

Jason immediately pushes me against another wall and I lift my head to expose my neck to him, where he duly spots lustful kisses along my windpipe. His hands then quickly pull down my panties and this time I don't stop him, just like he doesn't stop me when I undo his belt and lower the zipper to his jeans when he stands up. I know then, when I wrap a hand around his cock, that we're not going to make it to a bedroom.

He lifts me up easily and I wrap my legs around him as he lines himself up. "Yes?" he queries, showing that despite the fact that he's about to violate another man's wife that he still cares about what I want. The slow kiss I give him is all the response he needs, and with some care I feel the head of his cock and thick shaft push past my wet lips and into my pussy.

I moan out as he buries himself to the hilt and my fingers dig into his shoulder blades as I feel his thick cock slide slowly into me. "Mrs. Joseph" he groans into my ear, making me smile as I gasp at just how full he feels inside of me.

"Just call me... Jess."

"Yes, miss."

We laugh and share a kiss, his hand pulling a bra strap from my shoulder and down my arm until one of my pert b cup breasts is free. The next thrust hits just the right spot, making me cry out loudly until I bite his shoulder to stop myself.

"Good?" he breathes.

"You have no idea." I moan out in a reply.

It's awkward, between the drink and the fact that Jason has his ankles restricted by his jeans, but it still feels so right. He angles me away from the wall so only my shoulders touch the wallpaper and then grips my hips in his large, solid hands. I can then feel his full length sliding slow and deep into me, forcing moans so loud from my lips that I'm sure my husband can hear how I scream another man's name from whatever country he's currently in.

Jason pushes his sturdy torso hard against me, driving the wind from my lungs so that it escapes with a throaty moan. His lips find mine and we kiss sloppily, his cock concealed deep within my pussy, while his hand cups my one exposed breast and pinches my nipple between thumb and forefinger until I yelp out, breaking our kiss. My former student, my current lover, whispers an apology and I silence him by pushing my tongue into his mouth.

He takes both my hands and pins them against the wall above my head and our eyes meet, my hips grinding to meet his thrusts to make my clit rub against his pelvis. It makes my breath shudder and I start to cry out before I even get close to my release. "Ja... son... Jason..."

"Cum... cum for me miss."

Harsh, ragged moans escape my lips and my eyes slam shut as I cum onto his cock that is now submerged inside of me. Jason relinquishes my hands and wraps his arms around my slight form, and I press my head to him as I ride out my orgasm. This has been some nightcap is the only rational thought I'm capable of making.

It's only when the convulsions have slowed down that I realise that he's not cum. Panting, I pull back from where I had rested on his shoulder and look at him with eyes that can barely focus.

"You didn't cum?"

That same smile again and I feel the slight twitch of his cock inside my sensitive pussy.

"Who says we're done?"