Charlottesville High School Ch. 03

Welcome to Chapter 3 of Charlottesville High School. For those just joining us, in Chapter 1 Natalie Bettis, blonde, buxom, and in her first year teaching math at Charlottesville High, was seduced by two of her students. In Chapter 2 the brunette Sandy Wright, a third year sociology teacher going through a divorce, found comfort in the arms of two of her students. In this Chapter we ask what are Sandy and Natalie to do when their student-lovers go out of town?

As always, all story characters involved in sexual activities are 18 years of age or older.

* * * *

By the end of the weekend it was clear Vivian, Ralph, and I would remain lovers. And, if you are a high school teacher sleeping with two of your students, you do not want to get caught. Which is why, upon our return to town, we reviewed the plethora of news stories on the subject. The mistakes people made were clear and the rules wrote themselves: (a) don't choose students likely to brag, (b) don't send e-mails and do not call or send texts on your cell phone (they were ubiquitous in every story on the subject), and (c) be careful about where and when.

As to (a), I couldn't imagine two better people than Vivian and Ralph. As to (b), swearing off the phone might send me into withdrawal, but we devised a set of signals to express interest. A certain pile of books on my desk meant, "I need you guys now," a certain decoration on my front door said, "Not a good time." I wasn't sure it was all necessary, but it gave the entire thing a wicked depraved feel which, if nothing else, fed my libido. As to (c), my husband had left me the house, which was in the country at the end of a long private heavily wooded road. It was perfect.

We were also, all three of us, free to wander. However, we decided even then to be discreet; we didn't want an outrageous act to attract unwanted attention; there was no telling what an unwanted investigation might bump into.

* * * *

I met Natalie Bettis at the teacher meetings before the school year began. Young, optimistic, enthusiastic, she reminded me of myself before my divorce had taken some of the wind out of my sails. We became friends and I considered asking her to move in after her lease expired; my big house, occupied only by me, could be lonely.

About a month into the school year it became clear Natalie was seeing someone. Her schedule became crowded, her availability spotty, and there was a happy bounce in her step: whoever he was, he was good in bed. She didn't tell me about it and I assumed there was a good reason. Was her lover was a fellow teacher - although the school board did not forbid liaisons among faculty, it clearly frowned on them - or a married man?

It was senior week, when many universities opened their facilities to high school students. Vivian and Ralph had left town to tour several colleges; I was in my classroom, thinking of calling Natalie to see if she wanted to get together, when there was a knock on my door and the subject of my thoughts poked her head in.

"Hey kiddo."

"Hey yourself."

After some small talk Natalie got to the point. "I was thinking about driving to Richmond Friday night, going dancing, maybe more. I've heard The National is hoppin'. Whatya think?"

Sounded like fun. "Sure."

"Now I warn you," she gestured to her conservative attire, " I'm getting all dolled up, looking for a good time."

While going to Richmond to get laid seemed discreet enough - it was ninety miles away - I'm not sure anyone would notice me if Natalie let it all hang out. "Okay honey, as long as I get your leftovers."

Natalie looked up and down my body. "Oh, you'll do just fine."

Then, thinking about my BMW and Natalie's car, a barely operable remnant of her student days, I said, "I'll pick you up at 7:00."

After she left I wondered, was there a problem in her mystery romance and how big was the wild side of this circumspect woman?

* * * *

Natalie greeted me at her apartment door. She was wearing a short black dress with a slit that ran further up one leg. It had short sleeves and, although it showed no cleavage, it still managed to accent her bosom (not that those things needed much accenting). She was wearing five inch black heels. She could have shown more skin, but was showing enough. I'd worn an embroidered navy mini-dress with peep-toe pumps. She invited me in for a glass of wine while she finished getting ready.

* * * *

Traffic was slight, the sky clear, and the two hour drive to Richmond uneventful. We hit The National at 9:30 P.M. Some guys sent drinks, some guys got dances, but the action had been only fair-to-middling when a woman sitting at the table next to ours strained her neck to look at somebody coming in. I followed her gaze in a mirror. Whoever they were, they were gorgeous. Well-groomed, delicious hair, somewhere between light brown and blonde, a couple of inches over six feet tall, athletic but not muscle-bond, and Tom Ford suits to die for. I directed Natalie's attention to them. She smiled, suggested the ladies' room; we walked past their table. When we got back to our seats the bartender, a scrumptious little number, brought us drinks, nodding to the gentlemen. We took our time with the drinks, sauntered over, asked them to dance, sat down with them after a few numbers.

They were brothers, partners in their father's investment business, and trying hard to impress: expensive rings, expensive watches, signed the bill with an expensive pen. The conversation was semi-good - they were a tad full of themselves - and they drank a bit more than they should, but we were there to get laid and we doubted The National would present anything better. So when they invited us back to their place, a condo overlooking the James River, we said sure. Natalie drove with Derek in his Porsche; Mason rode with me in my BMW.

* * * *

Long story short: great packages do not necessarily contain great things. After another drink and a dance on the balcony, Natalie followed Derek to his bedroom, I Mason to his. We kissed a bit, he took off my clothes - he could have been a bit sexier about it - then removed his shirt and pants. Mason had a great body. His boxers came off; it was smallish, but tolerable. I took him in my hand, kissed it, and he came, said he needed a second to recover, fell asleep.

I stared at him, waiting, waiting for, waiting for something. He started snoring.

"Fuck, just fuck."

I was wondering whether Natalie had better luck than I when I heard footsteps in the hallway outside the bedroom. Light steps, a woman's steps. I opened one of Mason's drawers, pulled out a white Brook Brothers' dress shirt, put it on - it hung down to my thighs - stepped out of the room. Natalie was in the kitchen wearing a light blue man's shirt, bent forward, looking in the refrigerator. Nice butt. I cleared my throat so as not to startle her.

She turned, an expensive bottled water in her hand.

"Want one?" she asked.

"Yes."

She reached into the frig, grabbed a second bottle, handed it to me.

"So Frick was a disappointment?" she said.

"Yeah," I said.

"Frack too." I sucked him off on the way here. He said he'd be ready by the time we got back. Got him to the bedroom, he said he needed a little help, asked me to strip, show him the girls. He laid down to watch and fell asleep. I didn't even get his clothes off. And you?"

"Got his clothes off, he came, started snoring."

"Was it unimpressive?"

I laughed, "Yes."

We sat a small table in the kitchen, finished our water; I deposited the bottles in the recyclable container, then turned back to Natalie. "Do you really feel like hanging around, seeing these dudes in the morning? What if they want our phone numbers?"

"No, not really. Wanna take off?"

"Yeah, we'll leave 'em a note."

We took some paper from the printer and attached the following to the refrigerator with a magnet: "Thanks for a good time. Couldn't sleep and have business first thing in the morning so decided to drive home tonight. We borrowed some of your clothes, will send back. Chiao. N & S."

We got home as the sun was rising. We were hungry and I had fresh eggs and bacon from the farmer's market in the frig; Natalie accepted my invitation to join me for breakfast. We cooked, barefoot, still wearing the shirts and silk boxers we'd borrowed, ate, recounted the night's mis-adventures. After we loaded the dishwasher Natalie, her eyes sleepy and through a yawn, said, "Thanks for the meal. Can I get a lift home? I need a shower and a nap."

I yawned back. "I got a better idea. Why don't you shower and nap here, I'm way too tired to be on the road."

Natalie started to say something, stopped; she knew I was right. "Sure, thanks."

While she was in the shower I searched for something for her to wear - I had no clothes designed for that body - settling on an oversized white tank-top night shirt. After she was done I showered, put on a yellow shirt. We helped blow-dry each other's hair. I escorted her to the guest bedroom and, fuck, no sheets. I had forgotten, they were in the dirty laundry pile.

"Do you mind sharing?" I asked.

"Not at all. It will be a step-up after the Bobsey twins last night."

* * * *

I slept well, waking a few times to the smell the fresh air coming through the open windows. I'd listen to the birds, drift back to sleep. At one point I woke to find my body pressed to Natalie's, my arm laying across her chest, my open hand on her breast. Curious, and feeling a bit guilty (was this sexual harassment?), I squeezed, gently, then a second time. Her breasts were warm and amazingly firm. I thought about Vivian, wished it was her body. Shit, last night Mason had promised so much and delivered so little. I needed to be laid; thankfully, Vivian and Ralph would be home soon.

I thought about Natalie. Who was her secret lover? Last night she'd been ready to play on the side. Had she and her mystery man broken up? I'd seen no indication she was upset. Was he as non-possessive as Vivian? What man would let a woman as sweet and who looked like Natalie out of his bed?

I fell back to sleep. When I woke Natalie was gone. I yawned, sat up, stretched, smelled coffee, stood, stretched, headed downstairs. Natalie, still wearing the white tank top, was in the kitchen. She had loaded the coffee maker.

"Hey sleepy-head, wanna cup?"

"Love one, thanks, black."

I sat down and Natalie, holding a mug, approached. Her breasts swayed under her shirt; her nipples were hard, their outline evident. After my time with Vivian I understood guys' obsession with those things. I'd gone out last night horny, looking for some action. The feeling returned. There was a knot in my stomach; a sexual tingle between my legs.

I looked up. There was a smile on Natalie's face; she'd caught me staring.

"You like the ladies?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to, its just, well, they're amazing."

"No need to apologize. I was always considered a pretty girl, but when I hit puberty they started growing, and growing, and growing. Kids at school stared, my Dad's friends weren't much better. I didn't want to be identified as a pair of boobs, so I started dressing to de-emphasize them, ended up de-emphasizing my entire sexuality."

She got a cup of coffee, returned, sat in front of me, took a sip, testing its heat. "Recently I was," she paused, searching for the right word, "led to re-embrace that side of myself. I was looking forward to some fun last night; too bad the guys weren't up to it."

I wasn't sure that she meant by "led" - her secret lover? - but in light of recent events I understood what she meant.

"Yeah, the only person I'd ever been with was my husband, I'm looking forward to spreading my wings, trying new things."

We chatted, drank our coffee. When a plane flew overhead Natalie looked out the window. My eyes drifted back to her breasts. They were spectacular. She turned back towards me, noticed my cup was near empty.

"Need to be topped off?"

"Yeah, thanks."

She stood, placed a hand on my back. I handed her my coffee cup, her fingers dragged across the back of my hand. I watched her sexy ass, kept my eyes on her's when she returned. When she leaned forward to put my cup down I stared at the creamy expanse of her breasts. My own breasts flushed. Natalie sat down and looked at my chest.

"I see I'm not the only one with sex on the brain."

I glanced down, my nipples tented my shirt. I felt then tingle, get harder.

Natalie continued. "Of course, if they hadn't been duds we wouldn't have had this crazy night. Hanging with you had been fun, and think of the story we can tell."

"Yes, but we'll need to vet the audience. How about this:

"Two horny teachers, went to get laid

Found two hunks, seemed tailor-made

Both came quick, started to snore

Two horny teachers, they failed to score."

Natalie laughed and laughed, her breasts rocking on her chest. I made no pretense of not noticing. When done she leaned back and plopped a foot on the seat of my chair, between my legs. I reached down to rub it.

Her eyes locked on mine. "That feels nice. You have talented hands."

"I'm glad you like them."

She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, let it slowly slide back out. Making no effort to disguise what she was doing, her eyes crept down my body, returned to my face. "It seems a shame, two women as hot as us should be able to get laid."

I picked her foot up, lay it atop my bare thigh, worked the ridge just below her toes with my thumbs. "So you think I'm hot?"

Her voice was calm, direct, devoid of bullshit. "Yes, I do. Poor Mason. He'll wake up this morning, realize he could have had a piece of ass like you, and blew it."

"And I can imagine Derek, wondering where he'll ever meet the likes of you again."

She laughed. "Thanks. On the other hand, y'know men, they protect their egos. They'll probably decide we're lesbians, that we headed home to make love."

She reached across the table for my hand, turned it over, dragged a finger across my palm. A chill ran through me. She stood, stepped behind me, placed her hand on my shoulder, leaned forward, pressed her breasts to my back. Her heartbeat, like mine, was fast and strong. She pulled my hair away from my ear and whispered:

"Two horny teachers, no guys are here

Keep it private, nothing to fear

I've a confession, I'm feeling randy

Two horny teachers, whatcha say Sandy?"

I turned my head towards her. Her blue eyes were lovely, the color of the sky on a perfect spring day, her lips preternaturally thick and juicy. She tilted her head and moved her mouth towards mine. I parted my lips and we kissed, a soft tender kiss that seemed to last ten minutes.

Our mouths played together. I couldn't believe how excited I was; all the sexual energy of the last thirty-six hours had suddenly, fully, reignited. My pussy tingled. Natalie's tongue was inside my mouth. It ran over my teeth, around and behind my lips. I pushed my tongue inside her mouth, kissing her with growing passion; our tongues slid against each other.

Our kisses were feverish. Her lips, thick, magnificent, and sweet, were softer, more feminine, more girlish than Vivian's. She shifted position; her breasts rubbed against my back; chills flashed up and down my spine. Her tongue invaded my mouth, exploring with giddy enthusiasm. What else could that tongue do?

Natalie stepped back; I stood to face her. She took my chin in her hand, kissed me, said, "Earlier, in bed, when you touched my breasts, I liked it," moved her hands to my ass, ran them up my spine, wrapped her arms around my back. Our bodies were pressed together; her breasts enveloped mine. Her scent was fresh and clean, like that of the beautiful fall day that flowed through the open windows. I moved my body from side to side, adding to the soft friction between us. We kissed, we touched, we caressed, and I whispered, "Time to take this upstairs?"

Natalie's smile answered my question. I took her hand in mine and she followed me to the bedroom. Once there I stopped, kissed her, and feeling it bit apprehensive (this was only my second woman - would I please her?), said, "I'm sort of new at this, I mean with girls."

"So am I."

Was her secret lover a woman? Was that why she kept it a secret?

I decided to slow it down. "Can I give you a massage?"

"I'd like that."

Natalie lifted her arms and, taking hold of the bottom hem of her night-shirt, I pulled it up and off her, having to work it over the swell of her breasts. When done I looked at awe; I thought Vivian's were big, but these were huge, pendulous, firm. Her nipples, small and light pink in color, tilted towards the ceiling. My pussy tightened and tingled.

She held her breasts in her hands, offering them to me, "You like?"

"Oh yes." I kissed each nipple, a quick peck

She shivered, let out a happy breath. "Good, because they're very very sensitive."

I pulled off my shirt, retrieved a bottle of massage oil from the bathroom, noticed the two of us reflected in the mirror over the bureau. I directed Natalie's attention to it. She looked at our joint image, turned to me, slipped her hand into mine.

"You're a beautiful woman."

"Thank you. So are you.' I kissed her, then said, "Please lay on the bed, face down."

I knelt next to her, pushed her blonde hair aside, squirted oil on my hands, rubbed my palms together to warm it up, and worked her upper back, letting my fingers pass over her soft shoulders and neck. I moved to her lower back, then, skipping that magnificent ass, turned to her feet. There I took my time, working the soles with the heel of my hand, gave each toe personal attention, massaged up her leg. Natalie's moans grew more sexual, more intense.

Taking a whiff as I leaned over her pussy, loving the intoxicating scent of her wet sex, I kneaded her ass cheeks, moving down. Her moans grew sharper, harder; the anticipation was getting to her.

I kissed her butt cheeks, taking small nips with my teeth. Natalie, bunching the sheets in her fists, squealed. I spread her ass cheeks - her anus was light brown in color - and dripped oil on the anal crevice, then traced the cleft with my index finger; it slid easily through the ample lubrication. I rubbed her asshole with the pad of my finger; it winked open and shut. Natalie was letting out sounds that merged moans and gasps.

Her hair hanging over her face, Natalie turned towards me. "Put your pinky inside."

I inserted it into her anus. Natalie arched her back and moaned, her pitch rising as I went deeper. When I was all the way inside she sank back onto the bed. I wiggled the tip of my finger, pulled it out, and then, to the sound of Natalie's delighted squeals, finger-fucked her ass, then rolled her over to do something I realized I'd wanted all morning. Holding a breast with two hands, I stuffed her nipple into my mouth. Natalie let out a groan and I circled my tongue around and around the hard point, then switched to the other breast, kneading the ample flesh while working the nipple and areola with my lips, tongue, and teeth. I moved from one to the other, taking my time, feasting on her. Natalie writhed in delight; I was immersed in the joys of her tit-flesh.

After one last swirl of my tongue across her erect nipples, I pecked her lips, then slid down Natalie's body, licking and kissing her toned flat stomach. Natalie spread her legs. She was clean shaven, her pussy lips pronounced and full. I went lower, dragged my breast across her pussy, wetting the nipple in her juice.

Then I stopped, looked. Her pussy glistened, a small stream of juice ran across her perineum. Her scent was light and sweet. I blew a stream of air on her, then lowered my head, going straight for her clit, sliding the flat of my tongue over it. Natalie jerked, moaned, "Ohh, fuck yes." Using lips and teeth, I played with the love bud, sucked it into my mouth, whipped it with my tongue. Natalie, cradling the back of my head, sang my praises: "YES, yes, yeeeeessssssss, mmmmmmm lick my clit! Lick it! Ohhhhhhh Sandy, lick my clit, baby lick it. Mmmmmm, lick my clitty, ooooooh, tongue it good, oh fuck yes, oh fuck yes Sandy, so good, you're so good." I moved my head down, tongue-fucked her, reached for her tits, captured her nipples between thumb and index finger, squeezed and palpitated the hot blushing flesh.