Book Room Love to B on W Sex

She was five foot three, one hundred and six pounds, a beauty pageant fine body, with a smile that would put Michelle Williams to shame. When I met her she was standing on the mission steps, standing seductive and provocative, her short skirt just above the knee, her hair to her shoulders, and her legs slim and shapely and tantalizing. She had the attention of every man within one hundred yards, and the women even noticed her as well. Her thirty third graders bunched behind her like little ducklings behind a Mallard mother and I could not take my eyes off of her or that sexy figure.

After that day, I spent as much time as I could at her classroom door, panting like a puppy, showing her as much interest and attention as the school district and state law would allow. The other important factor was she had a husband. I avoided that subject with her, never referring to his existence, and she seemed to not be so concerned about that fact either, although we never discussed that aspect of her life. Why waste good moments together talking about the existence of an absent husband?

I followed her around school like a beagle in heat, and wherever that lovely ass went I was sure to be close behind. She was simply a lovely sight floating around campus like a heavenly vision. I felt like a high school freshman watching the cheerleaders practice. She'd glide around the school and I'd watch her every move, adoring the sight of her, imagining her naked, seeing that gorgeous bottom everywhere I went. I was captivated.

The first time I spent any quality minutes with her in the celebrated book room, she seemed interested in developing some heat between us, and I made sure not to be too obvious about my intentions. We chatted, then I complimented her on the outfit she was wearing, trying not to look at her ass, and I was encouraged by the fact she did't recoil and fill a sexual harassment complaint against me. In fact, she blushed and thanked me. My heart was in my throat.

I nodded and left, leaving her alone with the stored books in the musty room. It was just the first time in the book room, although I made sure to meet her there many times over the next few months. Accidentally, I would be there to "retrieve books" when she just happened to be there at the same time. I wanted to make it routine for us to be there together. It worked, because we often joked that we shouldn't be meeting there in the book room. People would talk. I didn't give a crap whether anyone talked about us in the book room. It was actually like a badge of honor.

After the PTA meeting we attended together, our book room meetings began to heat up. Our times in he book room tougher actually people caked up after that. When I dropped her off after the PTA meeting, she let me kiss her and I knew I was on the right track. I just leaned over and kissed her goodnight and she simply accepted the kiss like it as the most natural thing in the world. The first book room kiss took place two weeks after the acclaimed PTA meeting.

I took her into my arms in the book room and she lifted up her chin and put her lips against mine. It was truly a "rocket's red glare" moment. During that celebrated kiss, I think I actually saw stars. The next time we were in the book room together, we went right to the kiss. It was a long and sexy kiss that had me a little dizzy while I put my arms around her waist and my hands on that lovely and very sensuous bottom that I had been admiring and following around for weeks.

The first book room dress-up moment came the next week, when she stood by and let me lift her dress and slide my hands underneath those silk and lovely panties.

Under those panties, I found her moist and ready pussy waiting for my fingers, which searched for and found a very puffy and slick labia slit that allowed my fingers access to the depths within.

We stood there for thirty or forty minutes while I probed the depths of her very willing vagina while she stood with her eyes closed and her top teeth over her bottom lip. "Oh yes," she said with a sigh. "You are a very naughty boy," she said. "I am a married lady."

"You want me to stop?" I asked her.

"Don't you dare," she whispered as I fingered her sweet and very wet pussy. She stood with her legs slightly spread, her head back, and with my hand under her dress. Her dress was up to her waist, her panties pulled down, and her eyes closed. "You stop and I'll never forgive you," she said with a long and breathy sigh. I would hate to have her never forgive me about anything.

The next week she asked if I could come by her house on the base to "go over some schoolwork." The schoolwork was quickly forgotten and we ended up on the floor of her bedroom with me inserted deep in that same wet and ready pussy. We fucked for close to an hour and I left a very tired and satisfied colleague, carrying the pack of "schoolwork" we had forgotten about soon after I arrived. She stood just behind the door, looking out at me with her hair messed slightly and a "I-have-just-been-fucked look on her face and a very contented smile.

Our book room encounters began to only happen after school, and they often ended with both of us naked and spent, breathing hard and gathering our clothes from piles next to the book shelves. It happened in the car, in the dunes next to my four wheel drive, and in her bed while her kids were at the baby sitter's. It was often truly an afternoon delight.

Her husband was overseas, and I had no feelings of conscience over his absence. I justified our time because he was a jerk, and jerks didn't deserve a sweet and lovely pussy like I did. It was my way of contributing to staff morale, and I did my very best to keep my teaching partner very satisfied and happy. I would fuck her whenever she needed me to, and I gave everything I had to do it to the best of my ability.

When she signed the divorce papers, she asked if I was interested in sharing an address. It certainly wasn't a difficult question to answer. It took me less than a second to nod eagerly.

She was positively a sexual dynamo. Any position, any sex game, any lusty roleplaying activity, or any oral fun I could think of was not out of the question. After I moved in, I fingered her in the car on car trips, stripped her as we entered the house, and fucked her daily in the wildest sexual display I had ever been a part of. It simply was every man's dream, and I figured I had gone to heaven.

I first suggested an intimate-friend situation after one year sharing a mailbox and her king-sized bed. She didn't say no, but offered a shy and softly said, "Well, I wouldn't say no."

Our first time at a swinger's affair occurred after two years of living together and in the potluck line at the swingers resort a man came up to her and kissed her with the passion of a sailor after months at sea. I watched as they kissed, then as he whispered in her ear. I asked what he had said, and she whispered, "He wants to fuck me later tonight."

I asked if she was inclined to indulge him and she just smiled. Then she said, "You asked me about being with an intimate friend, right. He could be a friend. I watched her walk off with him an hour later and my heart beat like I could not believe.

When she appeared two hours later I didn't have to asked if she had been fucked. Her smile, her walk, even her slightly messed hair told me she had and she had been fucked well. She had gone to his room and did not have to undress because most of us at the party were nude. She told me she "rode on top" for the first two times. I asked her how many times and again she just smiled.

After the trip to LA to seek out an "intimate friend" she became an absolute devotee of extramarital sex, finding lovers almost on every corner. She informed me one Friday afternoon that she was meeting a new friend that evening. She told me he was from West Africa and had "very big hands." I knew exactly what she meant by "very big hands" and told her I hoped she hadn't bitten off more than she could chew.

She smirked sarcastically at my very bad pun, and then leaned over and kissed me with passion that said, "Careful what you wish for." I could hardly wait to hear about her evening out with a brother from Africa who had big hands and probably big 'expectations.'

I was sure she would fuck him like a horny housewife should. He would remember this white woman for a long time I was sure. When she walked in after her exchange-student fuck session with the fellow from the biggest continent, I could tell he wasn't the only one who would remember that night fondly. She simply sighed when she put her coat on the chair.

"Wow," she said with a grin. "It is true what they say," she said. "Big hands, big other things." I asked her to tell me about it, since that was the agreement. She nodded and led me to the bedroom. "We should be naked when I tell you about my evening of fucking," she said, grinning with an "I just been well-fucked by a very large man from the dark continent" expression on her face.

They fucked, she told me, standing, sitting, kneeling, on her back, with her on top, and on their sides from the back. "He is very creative," she said with a smile that said 'I really did enjoy myself.'

"Will you go back after going black?" I asked. She simply nodded. Then she told me I wasn't off the hook.

"Just because I just had a big one, you still need to satisfy your woman,"she replied. "He fucks deep, yes, but you fill a pussy really well." I asked if she was going to do him again. "Oh yes," she said. "You bet your life."

She has been with Jacob three times now, and the look on her face each time has told me she really enjoyed herself. I asked her if the book room was ever like that. "The book room had a very hard floor," she said. "We only fucked standing in the book room," she said with a whimsical grin.

"So you're not giving up on white men?" I said. She shook her head. We went to bed, undressed each other next to it, and fucked until we both fell asleep.

I don't regret encouraging her to branch out, because the better she gets fucked on the side, the better it is in our bed afterwards. Book room sex is certainly good sex, but since sharing an address the sex has been as good as sex can be. The only thing I regret is that we didn't start with the extramarital activities for a couple of years.

From the time I saw her on the steps of the Santa Barbara Mission I knew things were really going to get good for my libido. I was right and have not regretted our book room sex or the PTA meeting start to a very hot relationship. Take it from me, since it has been forty-five years since the old book room escapades. So, get a good one, and keep her happy, and you better hold on to her with all the strength you have at your disposal.