Knot What She Expected

The words that sent me over the edge in the end were "No condoms, Phil. I want to feel you flood me." This from the sweet lips of a young married teacher I had in front of me, stripped, tied up and blindfolded on her marital bed with at least an hour before hubby got home...

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I'm Phil. Outdoors guy. Literally. That's how my social media profile describes me, and I make a reasonable living from organising corporate training in the hills and mountains - outdoor retreats and team building weekends, that sort of thing. I hadn't done any schools before I got the e-mail from Lisa, but she'd obviously done her research because what she had in mind was an excellent idea and it ended up opening an entirely new market for me so I gained in the process. But that isn't why I'm writing this story.

I read Lisa's e-mail with interest. I can normally categorise potential jobs right from the start and know pretty well immediately exactly what each one will entail, but this one was a bit different and I found myself thinking through a number of ways it could work and be pitched. The e-mail came to me via my professional pages and it was from a school address. The writer was a Mrs. Lisa MacBeth, a second grade teacher in a town about twelve miles away. I'd never actually been there despite growing up in the area. I knew the school though. There had been a fire there about five years before. No one had been hurt but the resulting review of health and safety procedures had affected my business quite a lot. I had innumerable forms to fill in before I could accept jobs now. I'm risk aware, and nothing in the new rules demanded any more of me than I would have done anyway - apart from the form filling, but I could immediately see that working with schoolchildren would require an order of magnitude above the normal safety checks I was used to. For that reason I hadn't previously considered that source of business.

Lisa's message was well thought out and made me think again. She had planned a unit of study for her kids that required them to learn some of the same outdoor skills I regularly did with executives. Ropes, fire-lighting, tracking, even building a bridge across a stream. The way she described it all I could see how eight-year-old children might be able to gain from being on one of my courses - a suitably reworked one, naturally, but authentic outdoor skills nonetheless.

I also admit that when I clicked on the school's website and saw what Lisa MacBeth looked like I felt a stirring of interest. Teachers had no right to be that good looking! She was simply stunning. Blonde hair falling over her shoulders, bright blue eyes and a figure that belonged on a catwalk, rather than in a classroom. I must admit I made up my mind to accept her offer to meet and discuss the idea pretty much solely on the basis of that photo.

Apart from the fact I had to keep doing things to hide what would otherwise have been a painfully obvious erection, the meeting went well. We met in a coffee shop and she described her plan for a series of three or four lessons taking place in a wooded area to the south of the school. There would be thirty-four children and four adults plus myself. She would take care of all the permission slips and I would design a risk assessment form to submit to the school administrators two weeks before the lesson. The children would watch while I demonstrated fire-making, but apart from that they would take a full leading role in all the activities. It looked like it would be a lot of fun.

As it turned out the first lesson wasn't great, but that was because of the weather – and the lack of common sense of one of the students' parents. I'd described the clothing I recommended the students wear but I'd overlooked the need to stress that the accompanying parents also needed to wear sensible clothes. Mrs. Ross, one of the three mums accompanying Lisa on the lesson, was dressed more for a nightclub than an afternoon in the woods! It wasn't raining very hard but what rain there was, combined with the cold wind from the north, was enough to make most of us glad of our fleeces, boots and waterproof trousers. Jimmy Choo shoes and a ruby-coloured silk blouse were never going to be much protection against the biting Scottish wind - and as we only had the minimum numbers of accompanying adults according to the plan I'd set up, we had to cut short the lesson when it became obvious Mrs. Ross was turning blue with cold!

Lisa was apologetic afterwards but she need not have been. I'd had a great time getting to know her kids in the hour or so we'd been together. Lisa's smile was also nice to be reminded of. When she said "I hope you'll give me a second chance" it was all I could do to stop myself saying "Anytime your husband's not around!"

The second lesson was much better. The skies were blue and although there was a biting cold in the air, that made it all the more logical to cover fire-lighting with the kids. I lit a fire from a flint and demonstrated how we look for kindling wood and other combustibles when we're out in the open. I had the kids separate and look for matchsticks, fingers and wrists. That's how we describe sticks in terms of their diameter and suitability for different stages of a fire. They loved it, and Lisa let a couple of the more sensible students try their hand with the flint. It went well.

We finished the lesson by having a competition to see who could get their fire up to the point where it could burn through a string tied two feet above the woodpile. The students were hopeless at tying the string so I said to Lisa I'd teach them knots next time out.

"This is such fun!" she said, touching my arm and flashing me that huge smile of hers.

"You're quite a flirt, Mrs. MacBeth," I thought. But I kept that thought unspoken.

The ropes lesson was the third one. The weather had warmed up and we went into a new area of the forest. I taught the kids two knots – reef knot and clove hitch. The split into pairs and were told to find sticks to tie together using those knots that made something useful. Almost all of them would make a sledge for dragging firewood - or perhaps a snowshoe. These were items I'd demonstrated in the classroom during our first meeting. One bright spark, a little boy called Eric, however, wanted to tie Lisa to a tree. His reasoning was that if he was in the wild and hunting animals, he wouldn't want to kill them for food, but he would want to sketch them. He would, therefore, need to find a way to keep them still while he did that and he wanted his teacher to stand in for the deer or badger that he fondly imagined he could catch. Cute. And quite clever. I asked Lisa if she'd mind if I demonstrated and she said it was fine.

So that was the first time I got to tie up Lisa. Just her hands to two branches of a hazel tree, and in full view of Eric and a few of his friends who quickly wandered over to watch. Lisa was a good sport. She let me tie her hands above her head and then listened while I explained that if you ever needed to tie an animal you had to be careful and gentle. Most of them then wanted to share stories about their pets or animals from their parents' smallholdings but I cut them short by saying I didn't think Mrs. MacBeth enjoyed being tied up and we needed to untie her.

"You don't know me that well, Mr. Turner," I thought I heard her say. I turned to her in surprise but from the innocent look on her face it was as if she hadn't said a word. Did I imagine it?

The last lesson was a week later and we did a few reviews of what we'd learned in the previous weeks. Lisa walked me out to my car at the end of the school day.

"I hope you had fun, Phil" she said. "I certainly did".

"Yes," I replied. "I did too. The kids are great, and I think you deserve a lot of credit for thinking this through so well. Do let me know if you ever want to repeat it."

I turned to get in my car but she put a hand on my arm.

"Well, I was hoping you could help me with one aspect, now you come to mention it." She said. "I'm hopeless with those knots. I know I couldn't teach the kids to tie those properly. Would you mind showing me again sometime?"

Was there something in that voice? Her face, sexy and beautiful though it undoubtedly was, showed no sign of anything. She was to all intents and purposes simply asking me for help tying knots.

"Of course!" I replied. "Just say when."

"Tomorrow? About 8 PM?" she said immediately. "I'm at 88 Jasmine Lane. You can park round the back in Longacre Drive and come in the side entrance."

"Sure." I said. "I'm free then. Shall I bring the ropes?"

"Oh, I'm sure I have enough." She said. Then with a squeeze of my arm she walked back in.

The next evening I parked in Longacre Drive. There was plenty of street parking, which wasn't the case in Jasmine Lane, but I couldn't help noting that it was also much less conspicuous here. A car parked in Jasmine Lane outside number 88 would have been immediately noticeable. Here, I blended in with the cars parked for the little parade of shops. An alleyway led through a gap in the houses to Jasmine Lane, and number 88 was at the end of the terrace and had a side gate. I let myself in. It was getting dark at this time of the year and the only light came from two candles in the window of Lisa's house. I tapped lightly on the glass of the back door and Lisa's shadow appeared. She put her hand up to the glass to see who it was and slid the bolt back. I stepped in. We were in the kitchen.

The first thing I noticed was she had let her hair down. It was the first time I'd seen her without a woolly hat – except in the webpage picture. Her hair was definitely one of her best features. She wore a silk negligee and was holding two tumblers of single malt whisky. Her eyes shone in the candlelight. Her feet were bare. The only other thing she was wearing was her wedding ring.

"Whisky?" she said, offering me one of the tumblers. I took it and sipped it. Jura. An excellent choice. Smokey and with a lingering afterburn.

"Thanks," I said. "Your husband's?"

I had been referring to the whisky but she misheard me. "Oh, don't worry about him." She said. "He's in Dundee today. Won't be back for hours. Come and sit down".

She led me though to the lounge where a decent fire was bringing in the hearth. I sat on the shag pile rug in front of it and she joined me. I looked her over. No bra. Silk negligee riding halfway up her thighs. Husband away. She was definitely sending me unmistakeable signs. We sipped our whiskies. My cock was stiffening and I was trying not to show it. She was unbelievably sexy and I wanted to fuck her there and then, but we were pretending nothing more was happening than my coming to show her how to tie a few knots. In some way that made it all the more tense. But it was a tension I was loving.

For about half an hour we talked about her. She was twenty-six. Married just over a year. Loved her job but also wanted to travel. She was the adventurous type, she told me. Always looking for new experiences. I took the hint and asked her about the knots.

"I haven't brought any ropes with me," I said. "But maybe your husband has some ties I could use to demonstrate."

"Let's go and see." She said. "The bedroom's this way."

She walked up the stairs. Her negligee rode up well above the knee with every step, and I walked behind her enjoying the view. She pushed open the bedroom door and I saw the brass bedstead, the mattress with the silk covering and the four pillows. At the same time my nose picked up the scent of the vanilla-scented candle burning on the bedside table.

"Here," I said, taking control of the situation. "Sit on the bed and place your ankle just here."

I slid my jacket off and finished my whisky. I took hers and placed it on the table by the candle. Then I opened her wardrobe and took out four of her husband's ties and a silk pashmina.

"This," I said "is a bowline. It's useful for tying something to a post to keep it from straying." I wound the tie around her right ankle and tied her foot to the brass bedstead.

"Try and move your foot away," I said. She tugged at it and saw that it was tight.

"Nice job, Mr. Turner" she said. Can you teach me another one?"

"Sure," I said. "Another knot that does something pretty similar is the round turn with two half hitches. Give me your other ankle."

She moved her foot into my hands and I gently moved it across to the other side of the bedstead. Her legs parted and I tied her so she was wide open. She stayed sitting upright and her negligee now barely covered her panties.

"Try to move your legs, Lisa" I whispered.

"I can't move them. I'm completely helpless," she murmured.

"Not quite," I replied. "There are still two knots to go. Lie back and put your hands above your head."

She resisted for just a moment. I approached her with the pashmina and tied it around her eyes. Then I pushed her gently back and took her right hand and tied it with a clove hitch to the top of the bed.

"What's that knot?" she whispered.

"Clove hitch" I said. "Now give me your other hand."

I tied her other hand to the top of the bed. I can't even remember which knot I used. By now I had just one thought on my mind. Her negligee was up over her crotch. She was wearing red silk panties and I could see the outlines of her nipples erect against the silk of her negligee. This was amazing.

"I'll not remember these knots, Phil" Lisa said. "Can you take photographs for me? My phone is by the bed".

I took her phone and switched it to video. I ran the lens over every inch of her and made sure I sent the resulting film to my own private e-mail address. I also took so close up shots of her crotch. Those panties were irresistibly sexy.

"Can you free yourself?" I asked in a calm voice.

"No. I'm helpless." She answered. "You could do whatever you wanted to me and I couldn't stop you."

"Well, there's an idea," I said. And I stripped off.

I went to work on her by licking her cunt through the silk of her panties. She started breathing very heavily and shortly after that she was moaning. Her clit was engorged and as I tore off her panties with a satisfying rip I could see she was already leaking love juice onto the silk bed covering. I tongued her for another fifteen minutes, sucking her clit gently into my mouth and pushing it back out again until she was starting to spasm. I moved her neligee up and went to work on her tits. Little bites at first. Then sucking each nipple in turn until my fingers entered her cunt and I started finger fucking her in time to my bites. She came and I stopped to let her get her breath back before pushing my erect cock into her mouth. I kept it all under control because I really wanted to fuck her cunt and come inside her that way, but I admit it was hard not going all the way into that sweet mouth of hers.

She was moaning all the time now and as I moved on top of her and made ready to push my now stiff-as-steel cock into her young married pussy she whispered into my ear "No condoms, Phil. I want to feel you flood me."

I pushed my cock deep into her cunt, she gasped and we locked mouths. Our tongues battled each other and I moved one hand to her throat and held her there while I thrust my cock harder into her repeatedly. She groaned and moaned and writhed about as she came again and again under me. I felt myself building up to a climax and we locked our fingers together as she understood I was close.

"Push hard," she begged. "Push, Phil. Push into me! Fuck me! Fuck me hard!!!"

Perhaps that's why neither of us noticed that we were no longer alone. As I came into his gorgeous young wife, Rob stood watching aghast in the doorway. He said nothing but just stood there with his mouth agape and I gave a primeval groan as I emptied my balls into his sweet bride.

She groaned too "Fuck. This is amazing" completely unaware that her husband was witness to this. It was a delicious moment.

I pulled out and wiped my cum-leaking cock across her face and into that lovely hair of hers. Rob did nothing. I leaned across and kissed her on the mouth. Then I untied her hands but left the pashmina across her eyes and her feet tied to the bedstead spread as far as they could go and revealing before Rob's horrified gaze the sight of her delicious pussy - swollen red with the pounding I had given it, and dripping with my fresh semen.

I casually picked up my clothes, reached across and finished her whisky and taped him lightly on the cheek.

"She's fucking amazing, Rob" I said. "You're a lucky man. Enjoy her."

Obviously, I didn't drive home that night. I'd had two scotches and a man has to take responsibility for his actions. I took a cab.