Archived Memories

I was a 22 year old teacher when this experience occurred. My training had just finished and I was about three months into my first appointment. I was a little surprised by the politics of the work place. I had naively assumed that all these bright, intelligent teachers would work together for the betterment of the kids. Hah! But that is another story. Anyway, I had my first full time teaching position and I was really loving it.

One little understood facet of teaching is that there are an incredible variety of responsibilities if you are interested in putting yourself forward. One job I volunteered for was producing the Old Boys newsletter. (It was a single sex school). Communicating what was currently going on in the School was straight forward but I had the idea that including some historical information would be interesting for the readers.

I had heard that the School had an archive of historical material but didn't know anything more than that. I was at a loss as to where to start. Help came in the form of Carol. She was a general administrator at the school and although she worked mainly in the accounts section, she also seemed to wear a variety of other hats, one of which was unofficial archivist. She took great pride in the history of the School and thought my idea of using historical information in the newsletter was an excellent idea.

Carol was about 45 years old but quite well preserved. At about 5 foot 3 she had a slight but shapely figure. She had an attractive, well-proportioned face with a pert little nose and appealingly plump cheeks. She affected green or sometimes blue eye shadow which seems to work on some women but Carol was not one of them. It made her look naïve. Her hair was shoulder length silver/blonde which I presumed she dyed. Her skin tone was pale but not in an unhealthy way. Invariably she wore rather short skirts, ones that didn't go below the knee but, as I had noted when I first met her, she had very shapely legs. I am sure she would have been a real looker when she was younger. She was nice in a reserved sort of way but did not give off the vibe of being a very happy person. She threw herself into her work but there was a spark missing.

The archives were housed in the basement of the main administration building, a part of the School that was very rarely visited. She took me down one day after school and showed me around. It was really just a large area with no windows that had several long rows of high, dusty shelves and a more open area where larger things were stored. Over the course of the next few weeks we went down several times. I was gathering some really great material and had become quite interested in the history of the school. Carol strongly approved of my interest and we became quite friendly. I wouldn't exactly say that we flirted but we did share some personal information. I found that her husband had left her about 14 years ago and there had been no real relationship since. I found her an intelligent and surprisingly funny person. I really enjoyed her company and freely admit that I got a mild thrill when we accidentally bumped into each other or inadvertently touched.

There were several shelves of material in the basement that had clearly not been touched for decades and the two of us got quite a nerdy thrill in exploring these resources. We found some great letters from young men serving in both the 1st and 2nd World Wars and a host of other interesting information. One afternoon we had arranged to meet and do a bit more work after school. We were methodically working our way through the shelves one by one. There were six old boxes on the top shelf down the end of one of the aisles that we decided to examine next. Normally there was a step ladder in the room but it had disappeared. This happens frequently in schools, and I suppose most organizations. Someone borrows something without notification and does not return it. We were at a loss to reach these top shelves. I tried climbing up the shelves but they complained in a manner that meant that made me sure my full weight would cause damage. I could see nothing to hand that I could stand on so it was either go looking for a ladder or change our target of investigation.

"Lift me up", she said. Now I pride myself on my problem solving. I mean, I am a smart guy, but that option had simply not occurred to me. I contemplated the viability of the idea and saw that it would work. If I lifted her from about her knees she should quite comfortably reach the top shelf and her slight build should pose no great challenge to my strength. As long as the boxes weren't too heavy for her we should be in business. I bent my knees, lowered myself and wrapped my arms around her knees. "Ready?" I asked.

"Lift away." I stood up and was surprised by how light she was. One aspect of the arrangement that I don't think either of us anticipated, I didn't anyway, was that my face was squarely facing into her crotch. I couldn't help but breathe in and smell a distinct womanly aroma. I became hard so quickly it almost hurt. I think she too was a little surprised about where my face ended up. To steady herself she placed her hand on the top of my head. We retrieved the first box in a time that was too short for me but I lowered her to the ground when she indicated she was ready. We both smiled rather weakly at each other, sort of tacitly checking with each other as to whether we should repeat the technique. I forestalled any discussion by again bending my knees and asking her if she was ready to go again. I certainly wanted to repeat the sensation.

On the second lift she seemed to have trouble getting hold of the box for some reason so I had to hold her up longer. I couldn't see much with my face buried in the juncture of her legs but I was not complaining.

On the third lift I cheekily introduced an artificial wobble which resulted in her clasping the back of my head and pulling it more closely to her crotch. I thought I heard a low moan. On each subsequent lift she seemed to take more and more time before asking to be put down and I took longer and longer to lower her when instructed.

Her voice cracked as she gave the go ahead for the final lift. She would have to have been brain dead not to have noticed the gradual change in my technique and it was equally clear that she too was prolonging the task. I again lifted her and, when it came time, I didn't lower her to the ground. I loosened my grip and let her slide slowly down my body. As the small mound of her belly passed over my face I gently pressed forward. I could feel that her skirt was being bunched up behind her. Then her breasts came to eye level. I paused. Should I be so bold? I slowly turned my head from side to side. A clatter from behind me signaled that she had dropped the box. Her hands were then free and she encircled my head and pulled it forcefully into her cleavage. I could feel her bra but it did not stop my face forcing her breasts from side to side. Again I heard her make a low, drawn out moan. I savored the sensations for thirty or so seconds and then lowered her again. I stopped as our eyes drew level. She looked flushed and had a sort of dazed expression. I could clearly feel her pubic mound pressing against my stomach. I ground against her and then let her slip a little lower. She would probably not have felt my not inconsiderable erection as her legs slid past it but she certainly did when we came crotch to crotch. My hands were now cupping the cheeks of her bottom and I guess I was supporting her about 4 inches above the ground. She was blushing and breathing heavily. I lent down until our faces were mere inches apart. I think both of us wanted something more to happen but neither could initiate it or think what to do. We stayed this way for several heart beats.

"You're so young," she whispered.

"You're so beautiful," I replied.

She sighed almost theatrically and then I felt her legs moving. She slowly raised them up and encircled my waist. She then took a deep breath and used them to pull us firmly together. She looked at me with a funny look, half questioning, half fearful. I responded by pulling her closer in a manner that was almost like a thrust. My erection jabbed at her through her panties. She let out an involuntary gasp and her jaw went slack. I moved my mouth to hers and inserted my tongue. Her hands, which had been resting on my shoulders, circled my head and pulled it quite vigorously toward her. She sucked my lower lip into her mouth. She was a wonderful kisser. There was something desperately sexy about it. It was like she was famished, almost ravenous. I felt like I was being eaten. We were now grinding against each other and it seemed she was rubbing her pubis directly against the bulge of my erect cock.

I shuffled over to a couple of nearby two tier filing cabinets and placed her on top of them. She lay back. I could see a degree of apprehension in her eyes and her lower lip was trembling. My hands went under her skirt and ran up her smooth, silky thighs until each hand had a couple of fingers firmly hooked over the top of her panties. This was a definitive moment. She knew I was unmistakably positioned to remove her underwear. She also knew that by allowing me to remove them, she was consenting to being fucked. We looked solemnly at each other. She hesitated for a couple of heart beats and then to my delight, lifted her hips. I quickly removed the offending garment. I raised it to my face and inhaled deeply. I was intoxicated by the earthy pungency. Pure feminine arousal. She looked a little startled at my interest in her panties but I just grinned at her.

I raised her skirt and looked down. A generous billow of pale brown hair appeared at the juncture of her thighs. No sign or trimming or shaving here. I parted her legs and pressed my face to her crotch. I again smelt that wonderful rich aroma. I inhaled deeply as I pressed my nose into her cleft. I looked up and again saw her "deer in the headlights" expression.

Feeling that the nudity quotient was a little one sided, I stood erect (in more ways than one), undid my belt buckle and lowered my pants. This caught Carol's attention. She had been lying on her back but the trouser development had her raising herself up on her elbows and craning forward. It's always rude to keep a woman waiting so my underpants quickly fell to the floor. My cock proudly cantilevered out. He was certainly ready for action.

"My goodness, you are so big!" she exclaimed. Now I know full well that my penis is a solid average by all metrics. Was she just being flattering or did she really think I was swinging something special?

"I don't mean to pry Carol, but how many sexual partners have you had?" She dragged her eyes away from her new bff and looked at me shyly.

She cleared her throat and whispered, "You will be my second. I hope I can take it." She resumed her gawping. I see. Her statistical sample of the world penis population was clearly skewed in my favor. In other words, for the less mathematical, her ex-husband had a small dick.

I couldn't stop my mind generating coarse and pithy replies to her appreciation of my member.

"Wait until it gets erect."

"You will never be the same again."

"Just scream if it's too much."

"Brace yourself. It's hammer time."

I am not that sort of guy so I simply settled for a whispered, "I'll be gentle."

I know that some older women need some help with lubrication so I thought it appropriate to check the dipstick and see how we were doing on the friction front.

I cupped her mound with my hand, my fingers pointing downward. She gasped at my touch and then appeared to hold her breath. I dragged my middle finger up her slit and was rewarded with a veritable gush of sweet, oily loin liquid. As I grazed my finger over her clit she exhaled explosively. "No one has ever touched me there before." she gasped.

There was clearly going to be something of an educational process for Carol. I wondered how steep I should make the learning curve.

As I continued to run my fingers up and down her slippery slot I inclined myself over her and insinuated my tongue into her mouth. She greedily sucked on it to the degree that it actually became painful. She seemed to be attempting to excise my tongue from my mouth. I raised my free hand to her mouth and introduced a forefinger. On this she could suck with gay abandon. I pondered about what else she could use her vacuum mouth on but that was getting a head of myself, so to speak.

My continued digital manipulation of her little honey hole appeared to be about to bear fruit. She was starting to exhibit erratic, whole-body tremors. I intensified my finger work and was repaid with a strangled shriek which died quickly away to a low sobbing. It was horrifying that I had reduced her to tears as I was sure she was enjoying herself only moments before. I gently stroked her cheek and tried to find assurance that she was ok. She took a few moments to compose herself and then she quietly explained. "I am totally grateful for the experience you just gave me but it does make me think of all the lost opportunities in my life. I had to wait until now to experience an orgasm at the hand of someone else." There was that learning curve, sticking its steep slope in.

After a minute or so her breathing had slowed. She looked up at me with a quizzical expression on her face. "Are you going to have sex with me now?"

No, actually I am not going to have coitus with you. I have pressing business to attend to. My beer coaster collection urgently needs cataloguing. I didn't say that but as I have said, sometimes my imagination runs away with me. Instead I replied, "No my dear. I am going to fuck you senseless." Again the eyes went wide.

I lined up my tallywacker with the ultimate target. I eased into her and she hissed. Once full embedded in her slick, juicy vagina I paused and asked if she was ok. She was biting her lower lip. She didn't reply but just thrust her hips towards me like she was encouraging a horse into a trot. I needed no further invitation and began pumping into her with a cadence that would have made the Marine Corps proud.

After only a few minutes she gasped out a few words. My staccato rhythm was pleasantly punctuating her speech. "My... goodness...," she huffed. "You... can... hold... on... for... a... long... time." Again I was benefiting by comparison with an inferior predecessor.

There had been a curiosity in my mind about Carol's breasts almost from the moment I met her. I asked if she could show me them. The expression she responded with spoke of satisfaction and pride. She unbuttoned her top and released her front-catched bra. Two orbs that a teenager would have been proud of came into view. Admittedly she was lying on her back which can favor a breast with a propensity to sag but I was enchanted by my two new acquaintances. I gave them a careful manual examination while maintaining my hip level lunges. I was particularly impressed with the consistency of her firm, sassy little nipples. While her breasts were pale in keeping with her general complexion her nipples were an attractive rosy pink color. She mewled carnally as I manipulated her marvelous mammaries.

I was soon however, rounding the turn into the home straight. The excitement of fucking this naïve but gorgeous milf was overwhelming. She was remarkably tight and gloriously lubricated. When I asked if I could come inside her, she whimpered and nodded vigorously. "Fill me up." was her hoarse reply. The green light had been given.

I thundered down the runway in a boisterous and energetic fashion. Carol was desperately holding onto the sides of the filing cabinets in an effort to stop being driven completely off them. I had raised her legs to my shoulders which allowed me to plow her furrow even more deeply. She wailed at the depth and vigor of my thrusts. My come surged into her and I slumped forward. She clutched me fiercely to her breast.

I was taken aback when I once again heard her making gentle sobbing sounds. I had been sure she had enjoyed herself but now I was in some doubt. When I queried her she replied, "I thought my sex life was over forever. I can't believe how much I enjoyed that." We kissed deeply and then made the attempt to make ourselves presentable. She was intrigued and a little taken a back at the amount of come that was oozing out of her. There was however, something of a sense of satisfaction about her as she attempted to clean herself up. I may be reading too much into it but it was as though my semen was tangible evidence of my attraction to her and consequently a proof of her own newly wakened sexuality. I guess it made her feel like a woman. Regardless, she seemed wholly fascinated with the copious emission that was dripping out of her.

Over the following months we would sneak down to the archives whenever we had matching free time. For the first two weeks we were averaging two encounters per day but this settled back to about once a day after that. The progress made in collating and organizing the school archives slowed to the pace of Trump's policy reforms. It was a little frustrating that we could not use either of our homes for our trysts. I had roommates who were as discreet as Julian Assange so that was a non-starter and she had her 16 year old daughter at home. We did once manage a weekend away together which was delightful except for the fact that we were twice mistaken as a mother and a son which greatly embarrassed Carol.

Serendipity however, moved us from copulating on filing cabinets to a more comfortable arrangement. The Physical Education department had secured funding for new gym mats and Carol generously offered to store the old mats in a back corner of the archives room. She ensured that they were stacked in two piles that resembled a double bed in height and area. It was good that they were back to being used for the correct purpose; hosting gymnastic events.

Carol, ever the master organizer, cleverly replaced the spare keys to the archives in the master key locker with others so that we had the only keys to the room. A master key could open the room but I installed a simple sliding lock that could only be operated from the inside. It meant we could be safe in the knowledge that no one could disturb us.

I mentioned earlier that Carol had something of a powerful sucking reflex. I would imagine that some of you may have envisioned a certain potential employment of that ability. We were disrobing at the gym bed for another romp when I delicately breached the topic. "Have you ever sucked a cock Carol?"

She did a double take, blushed and looked at the ground. "I have never had a penis in my mouth. It somehow seems unnatural, dirty."

"I would really like you to try it with me," I casually replied belying the fact that my heart was thumping with excitement.

"Ok." she equally casually replied. I stifled a bellow of delight! She knelt on the mats and lowered her head to my groin. I could feel her breath on my cock. "What do I do?"

I then said something that I was about to regret. "Take it in your mouth and suck."

She shrugged and pounced on my penis, engulfing the top third of it in a warm, syrupy oral embrace. And then the suction started. For about ten seconds I was in ecstasy, but then as the pressure mounted I began to feel a growing sense of concern. The vacuum chamber that was her mouth was exerting a force on my prick that was rapidly causing me to embark on a journey of increasingly alarming sensations. I was leaving Paradise, passing through the county of Mild Unpleasantness, then on to the town of Holy Shit That Hurts and finally entering the city of Literal and Agonizing Dismemberment.

My involuntary shrieks and struggles fortunately caused her to break the union and look at me inquiringly. "Carol," I explained. "It's called a blowjob not a suckjob.'