Harem-Scarem

He certainly remembered what he had learned that week. Kiss and lick here, some stroking there, a little pressure over here, and all over... until he passed her navel and returned to her panties. He sniffed, and pulled down the elastic top, and sniffed again, and ran his nose into her razor-trimmed pubic thatch -- diamond-shaped, he saw.

"Oh Jon, oh..." She tried to list her butt to help him remove the fabric but cried painfully. "Oh, my leg still hurts too much!"

Jon stood. "I can fix that." He left the bed and returned with kitchen scissors. He cautiously cut along both sides of the now-soggy panties and pulled off the ruined material. He kicked away his own boxer shorts. He stood naked before his naked teacher.

The old Jon would have snarked, "Now you can go commando." The new Jon only smiled. The old Jon would have kept the wrecked panties as a souvenir. The new Jon... well, sure. He had a small stack of souvenirs stuffed back in his farm bedroom closet.

Teresa's face shone. "Jon, I... oh damn, we will, won't we? And I want to, don't I?"

"Yes," the strangely-damaged, athletic, perceptive 18-year-old said.

He massaged her strained muscles again, gently healing and soothing. Then he resumed kissing her toes again. And knees. And navel, nipples, neck, nose. And her mouth, tight against his, tongues dueling, both winning. And her breasts, and her navel, and her pubes.

And her pussy. Especially her pussy. His tongue and lips worked their educated magic on her senses. His hands stroked her thighs, reached down to her feet and pulled them close while he inscribed secret messages on her clitoris. More tongueing and stroking, and then the G-spot trick and her scream. And more kissing, softer, cooling her down but just barely.

Her blonde head rose. Her blue eyes re-opened. Her hot breath ragged. Her wet lips shone.

"Oh Jon, oh... yes, Jon, yes."

That was a pretty clear signal. Jon became a prayerful missionary when he topped her, spread her creamy thighs, and penetrated. Their mouths joined. They became as one.

"They became as one." That means Jon fucked his MILFy teacher into a near-coma. He thoroughly enjoyed her feel, her scents, her tastes, her textures -- so like her daughter! Not that he would mention that to her, no, of course not.

His cum was stupendous and rather loud. Yes, he roared as he injected a scrotum-load of hot semen into her mature womb.

He stayed between her thighs. He was young; his cock hardened again inside her.

"Oh god Jon, oh god..."

He was no god but he had a divine idea.

"Turn like this, yeah, on your right side, it doesn't hurt, and I'll get behind you, and..."

He got behind her and slid in again. He was young but freshly drained so this fuck took some time. He held her breasts and bit her neck. She rubbed her vulva and felt his cock move in and out of her. Time passed. He sped up and came in her again. They lay sweating under fan-pushed basement air.

The tornado siren had stopped much earlier. Neither had noticed.

Like her daughter, Teresa jumped when the tower clock rang the hour.

"Oh Jon, I've got to run! I've got dinner to fix and chores to do..."

"Anything I can do to help, ma'am? I mean Teresa. Let me carry you up the stairs, at least."

They were both naked. He was strong and sure-footed and yes, he did carry her over his shoulder like a fireman, patting her fine ass when feasible. He set her on her feet in the kitchen and yes, she could stand on her own. But she preferred then to hang onto Jon with her arms around his neck, her well-maintained breasts pushing into his chest, her mouth on his, her heart in his.

"I'm so much better now, but I really should go."

"Just a sec, I'll get your stuff." He returned up the shelter steps with their clothes and the gathered papers. She donned her bra, dress, and sandals. He pulled on his still-neat jeans and tee. His feet were bare in his sneakers. His eyes were bare in their lust.

"Oh Jon," she said, their clothed bodies hugged close. "We can't let anyone know."

"Of course not, ma'am, I mean Teresa. I would do nothing to hurt you in any way. Even if all my buddies weren't gone for the summer -- well, they used to be my buddies, but I don't know now -- even if, well, I'm no braggart. And I've learned to listen, not talk. I won't talk."

Nobody would have believed him, anyway, just as he doubted his former teammates' brags. He had not actually SEEN arrogant quarterback Jason with two cheerleaders at once. And he never went with the jock motto: No means yes and yes means anal. That was pretty scummy and depraved.

"Until Monday, then. And you know I'll be expecting superior work from you. You'll have no free pass in school."

"I only do the best I can, ma-- Teresa. I know how to put effort into what I'm doing. But for now, can I walk you to your pickup at school?"

"I think you had better not. It'll look better if I go alone. Until Monday, Jon."

They kissed. He opened the front door and watched her departing ass wiggle. Nice ass!

=====

Friday was usually a party night but Jon's buddies were gone and he had not partied team-style since before his head-whack. A session at the co-op's video arcade did not entice him. He satisfied himself with a microwaved meaty dinner, snitched cold beer and hot popcorn, and a few movies from Uncle Frank's pr0n video collection. Well, he started with those -- but they did not compare well with this past week in his life. He switched the tube off and thought about starting a journal. He would need to encode the names, of course.

He jerked off five time to relieve pressure. It was necessary.

Saturday was clinic day, the time for Jon's dad to leave the farm to his manager Pedro's watchful eye and drive him to the big-city neurology center where he was wired and imaged, poked and probed, questioned and treadmilled, up the wazoo, ooh ooh. And then back to Uncle Frank's place for the rest of a lonely weekend.

Jon was starting to not mind his relative solitude. He worked the necessary chores, drank a lot of lemonade, and read the encyclopedia shelved ostentatiously in the dining room. Wow, facts were amazing!

Sunday was a major excursion day. Jon dressed nice and walked all the way across the village to the Lutheran church. In the old days, he would be at the church nearer the farm because Mom wanted him and Dad there. He attended today because, well, why not?

Teresa and her Tara wore Sunday dresses. Jon did not expect the Gallagher family -- the Immaculate Virgin church was in a not-too-distant village -- nor the outcasts and their kin. Jon had zero belief in religion. But he understood the social function.

After services came the church ladies' shaded tea-lemonade-cookies-sherbet 'social'. Even modest church ladies and their blooming daughters did not overdress for the hot Kansas summer. Jon enjoyed the exposed flesh and kept his own counsel. He spoke politely to all.

Teresa offered to drive Jon home. He sat in the middle on the pickup's front bench seat between two women he had separately slurped and fucked to multiple orgasms only days before. Their talk was mild. Nobody kissed him.

Monday was excellent at school. Presentations and discussions flowed smoothly. Jon was still astonished that what he said made sense. Both Indian-dark Tita and Viking-light Tara wanted to study after class. Tita already knew how and when to lick pussy and Tara soon learned. Jon loved fucking Tara while Tita sat on her face with her boobs at Jon's mouth.

The Gallagher sisters came to study and soak on Tuesday. They also learned the joys of shifting triad oral daisychains. Sandahl and Shakira came to study Wednesday after class. Jon greatly enjoyed fucking whichever pussy was 'up' when they 69'd.

On Thursday, Tara and Tita walked home with Jon. They studied hard and productively at the hot kitchen table -- they were not entirely clothed. They rinsed sweat in the shower spray, soaked in the watering tank, dried each other, and retired to the big bed under its slow fans. Jon was steadily fucking into Tita while Tara sat on her (Tita's) face with her (Tara's) boobs at Jon's mouth when Teresa walked in on them.

"Uh, hi, Mom," Tara muttered. Jon moved his mouth from her left boob to her right, fucked faster, and spewed a gallon of steaming semen into the Potawatomi (Prairie Band) Indian girl's torrid tunnel of love. Tita groaned into Tara's vulva.

Teresa surveyed them, shook her head, and undressed. She pushed the trio apart.

"I figured as much. Hi, honey. Well, there's something I haven't had yet. Get down there, Jon. Out of my way, girls." She pushed Jon on his back, lifted a leg over his head, dropped her pussy onto his face, sucked his slippery cock into her mouth, and tasted Tita on him.

Teresa sucked, pumped, and fingered Jon's cock and balls until he was ramrod-hard. Then she sat on him and aimed his cock into her. "I've missed riding. It's been too long," she said.

She cowgirl-rode him, swayed on him, bounced on him, her well-maintained breasts held firmly in his grasping hands. Tara and Tita smiled slyly. Each pushed a Jonny hand aside, took a teacher's teat into their mouth, and nursed. Teresa leaned back and moaned. And bounced. Her hips almost blurred.

Jon did ejaculate into Teresa. Then he fucked and came in Tita and Tara again, and then Teresa yet again, doggy-style, her breasts swinging, mouth drooling, eyes vacantly dazed.

Tita had to return home to her hardworking mother for the night. Teresa and Tara stayed until just before dawn. "Don't be late to class," Teresa warned with a goodbye kiss.

Friday was a review and test day. Teresa was happily unsurprised that all test answers were correct. Their 'studying' with Jon produced solid results!

Teresa did not dismiss the last short class. She sat artillery-straight at her desk and inhaled. The neatly-dressed students watched, and straightened themselves also. She might as well have chalked a notice on the blackboard.

"Jon," she said. Neither a question nor an order. A simple statement.

Tara looked at Tita, then at Jon. "Jon," they murmured together.

The outcast biracial best friends peered at the Gallagher sisters. "Jon," they whispered in chorus.

Jon sat at one end of the arc of student desk-chairs. He surveyed them all. "Yes," he said.

"Discretion; survival," Teresa said. A simple statement and a direct order.

"Yes," her students replied.

Shakira's dark eyes captured Sandahl's, Deidre's, and Kaitlyn's. "But we get him tonight."

Jon stayed very busy that Friday night.

Saturday was another clinic day for Jon. All the signs were good, so far.

Sunday was another church day. All of class attended the Lutheran service except the Gallaghers. The outcasts, and Teresa and Tara, and Jon, sat separately. They mixed for sodas and snacks afterward with chatty congregants and the boring pastor's florid wife, not as a clique. Too much togetherness would be indiscreet.

Monday, the women started missing their periods. Jon's harem were all pregnant. Miracle!

The End?

=====

TORN FROM THE NEWS! Gentle Readers: This story is based on a news item I recall of a plucky Midwestern lad who indeed impregnated his entire class, teacher too, in the first week of summer school. Tornadoes and comas were not mentioned and no, I do not think concussions can be beneficial. So I made-up stuff. It is called 'fiction.'

The news item also failed to mention consequences, so a number of endings and sequels are possible. Of course Jon must work hard to keep his harem satisfied the rest of the summer session. But what then?

A) They keep it secret and continue group fucking. Jon is mailed his graduation diploma at summer's end after he leaves podunk Wolverton, Kansas for exciting life in Silicon Valley.

B) They let him know of his multiple paternities just before he leaves for Sunnyvale. He sends support money until he is waylaid by rapacious Silicon Valley Gurlz.

C) He is conscientious, and stays. The following spring, Jon attends the many females in local maternity wards with his kids, all with his blue eyes and strong facial bones but otherwise of various racial components. What then?

HAREM-SCAREM: 10 YEARS LATER is that sequel. It can be dramatic. Throw in a sub-plot, maybe an early winter blizzard that breaks every tree in the county. There should be tragedy. Somebody gets sucked away by a tornado, or squished in traffic, or savaged by a drunken mob. Where there's tragedy, there's redemption. I don't know how to work that in yet. Maybe I need classical tragedy, the high brought low, and comedy, the low raised high.

Anyway, Jon has earned teaching credentials and is now at the Wolverton Country School alongside Ms Emmons, and lives with the women and their many kids. A harem, sure. Cue the community resentment and tension. But they continue with lots of orgiastic fun.

Raising and supporting all these sister-wives and their kids on the salaries of two teachers in this circa-2000 era is difficult. And as an unorthodox harem, the women are not likely to be given jobs in town. So they start either 1) a mail-order enterprise that grows into an online hit, or 2) a specialized fabric shop crafting ultra-tough upholstery for the extensive Kansas aerospace industry.

HAREM-SCAREM: AFTERMATH is another ending. No, they do not live as a big harem. Jon marries Tara. Teresa takes the next teaching job offer. Tita and her mother and daughter move back to the rez where she marries into an accepting family. The Gallaghers move to California. The best friends get money from suffering grandparents and move to St Louis to live together in lesbian sin. Wolverton, Kansas blows away. Is this too boring?

Forget all that. Visualize the next Sunday after church. Six classmates and their teacher on the big bed take turns sucking Jon's fat Nordic cock, sitting on his or each others' mouths, and squealing happily. Most days after school are like this, too, and they spend much time soaking in the watering tank. The pale folk acquire good tans.

Harem-Scarem, fuck yeah!

Author's note: This story by Hypoxia Smurf is copyright (c) 2018 and is based on reality but not with these imaginary people. I try to get details right, even what I invented. Your constructive comments, suggestions, fantasies, and bribes are welcome, really. If you like this tale, join the 1% and VOTE!