Dweeb Ch. 09 - Sidetrack

Pulling back until he nearly lost contact with Clara's florid flower petals, Charles powered forward again and raked his spade across her tunnel's G-spot before crashing onto her cervix. More ecstatic than ever, she dug her digits into his flexing glutes and tried to swallow him whole with her hole. He fought bravely as her Kegels worked against his retreat, then he slammed back harder than before. He didn't intend to be rough, but her every reaction told him she liked his forceful fucking strokes.

Biting her inside cheeks, Clara silently screamed as a third tremendous orgasm broke and rolled over her soul like a tsunami. She curled her toes and locked her heels behind the teen's mid-back above her clasped hands, then rocked him tight in the saddle while his stallion bucked. Her flexed elbows and cramped hamstrings burned as she contracted every muscle fiber in her being to maximize her ecstasy. Throwing back her head into the remaining pillows, she let out an unintelligible strangled whoop as she sensed him explode within her.

The yelp was too much for Charles. He ejaculated, "MRS. KRAUTHEIMER!" All parts of his body went suddenly catatonically static. All parts, that is, except for his imbedded dick, which autonomically wiggled wildly as it convulsively spat thick sperm-filled spurts to a hopeless end.

Moments later, Charles flopped onto his left side, exhausted and amazed. Clara cupped her left hand to her leaking cunt and idly massaged the escaping jism back into the tunnel to be absorbed. A golden glow washed through her and brought her a peaceful contentment that she had not experienced for years. In her head a voice asked, rhetorically, "Now, isn't that better than an old dildo, Dearie?" She smiled at the youth tucked up against her naked tit and answered herself, "God, yes! Nothing beats a real live boy's sputtering cock!"

As he began to recover his senses, Charles muttered to himself, "Wow... that was a lot..."

Clara stroked her right hand lightly over her young lover's bare back as she turned her face to his and said softly, "...yes, that was. Thank you, Charlie."

"Huhn?" Charles suddenly realized that his thought had been spoken aloud. Embarrassed, he paused, then continued, "No... I meant I was surprised... you know... that I came again..."

Clara grinned and replied, "Well, I wasn't. Lots of young men don't expend all their resources on the first go. I think it's nice that you saved some back to give to a second helping."

Charles felt inexplicably required to explain further. "No, you don't understand, Mrs. Krautheimer... this was, like, my fourth time today... since breakfast! I've never done anything like that before. It was a LOT!"

Clara knit her eyebrows as she tried to make sense of what she was hearing. She chuckled, "Well, breakfast was probably six, or even eight, hours ago, wasn't it, Charlie? It's not unusual for a healthy boy to masturbate in the morning and be sufficiently recovered to give a girl pleasure in the afternoon, if the opportunity arises." She kissed his nose and declared, "And your 'opportunity' DID arise, and this girl certainly got a LOT of pleasure from it. Which is why I thanked you."

Charles was flustered beyond discretion. Ill-advisedly, he blurted, "I wasn't masturbating!" Abruptly aware of his words, he shut his mouth so fast and hard that his teeth rattled. A prickly heat raced from his shoulders up his neck and his stomach went queasy on him.

Clara was an English teacher, not a detective, but the clues were formidable. She thought, "Breakfast. Home. Not masturbating. Shopping at Victoria's Secret." Even though she was missing a puzzle piece, or two, she boldly guessed out loud, "So, you made love to your mother this morning, and were getting her something sexy when old Mrs. Krautheimer popped up and raided your pantry... Is that what you meant?"

Charles' jaw dropped and he stared aghast as the magnitude of his confession's consequence dawned on him. Clara rolled onto her right side into a half-embrace with him and patted his cheek as she soothed, "Don't be worried, Charlie. I won't tell her about us. And, by the time you get home, and have a nice supper, and go to bed, I'm sure your eggplant will be fully capable of helping your mom break-in whatever naughty things you have for her in that pretty pink-and-black box in your car."

Clara kissed Charles warmly and held him close for a long moment before pulling back her head to say, in a low serious tone, "But you ARE going to have to be a good boy for ME, too. I think Wednesdays will work out best for us. After school, we'll meet here for an hour, or so, and I'll tutor you." Rolling away from him, she stood from the futon and said, exactly as if a class-ending bell had just rung, "Now, climb back into your clothes and scoot off to your mom with her present." Then, with a light little laugh, she added, "Oh, by the way, you might consider a quick shower when you get home. You're just a little stinky and you don't want to offend, right?"