Room with a Secret Ch. 05

"May I fuck you?"

"What language, Jim. A definite smacking for you but then, shall I fuck you instead?"

What had Mr Crowfoot said to her?

"Over my knee, Jim."

She sat on the sofa, pulling his fingers from her wet vagina as if it was perfectly normal that he should be doing that, and patted her knees. Jim knew he did not have to be spanked. He was totally in control, unless Mr Crowfoot knew something more about the room than he had let on; something about the longer you used it the stronger your instruction. That what Mr Crowfoot had implanted in Miss Redmond's mind would override anything Jim said. But it excited him, the thought of being spanked by Miss Redmond. He stood and half unconsciously raised his fingers to his nose, taking in Miss Redmond's scent. There she was again seated on the sofa with his exposed knob inches from her.

"Suck my cock," such an amazing three words to say to his ex-teacher and then see and feel her just do that. "Deeper, yeah!" More than half was now in her mouth. He wondered if she could take more. He moved it, watching it sliding between her lips, in and out. He was fucking her mouth. Again, the thought of the classroom, doing that to the seated teacher, as his fellow 6th formers stared. Jim Costin, of all their classmates, with his cock in Miss Redmond's mouth. The temptation, of course, to come and fill her mouth. The idea! But, did he not want to fuck as well?

Best to remove himself before it all became too much and lie across Miss Redmond's knees. She had spread them a bit so he could let his cock down between them. What he had not expected was for her to bring her legs together and trap him, squashing his erection between them; held whilst he was spanked. And spank him she did. It was loud enough for Mr Crowfoot to hear if he was not far from the study.

Breathing hard, Jim lay there across her knees, as Miss Redmond gently stroked his now smarting cheeks. She really had smacked him. It had not been mere patting of cheeks. He felt her release her knees but then her hand took hold of his erection and slowly moved his foreskin.

"You are nice and hard, Jim. I've often thought of that; punishing the big boys over my lap, their penises hanging down as I wank them. Perhaps the whole class -- a great big puddle building up on the floor as they come one after the other." She smiled, "I would need a cane or a ruler. I wouldn't want to bruise my hand. I expect they would get a little tired though with all that smacking -- and all that wanking."

'Wank -- wanking,' such words to hear from Miss Redmond. Jim wondered: had Mr Crowfoot told her to tell him her intimate thoughts? Had she really thought those things, back when she had been his teacher? But he didn't want to come on the floor, not this time anyway. He got up, once more standing in front of her with his erection so strong.

"Go on, Jim, you lie down and I'll mount you."

Miss Redmond rose, his ex-teacher standing with him. Taller than Jim, he had to look up to her -- once again that schoolboy nervousness came to him. It made him drop his eyes to her more than ample breasts. Nervousness, yet lust. He touched his knob to her curls.

"May I kiss you?"

"I suppose you might."

His arms went up around her neck and he drew her lips down to his. It was like the first kiss of a new relationship; tentative at first and then Jim realised her lips were open. It was long, a kiss with tongues and eyes closed (at least his were). Passionate and sexual, and all the time Jim could also feel the gentle touch of Miss Redmond's springy and red curls upon his exposed and much stimulated knob. All something so desired those few years ago and now actually happening -- a consummation of fantasy and desire.

"Now lie down Jim."

It was going to be 'cowgirl,' Miss Redmond riding him.

"Now that's what I like, a man both lying down and standing at the same time."

Could he have imagined it back in school: Miss Redmond making naughty jokes? He just lay there, along the Chesterfield as Miss Redmond slowly climbed up above him. What a sight. Long legged, carefully placing her feet and then her knees either side of him, her so delightful red bush there above him and with her legs well apart, so he could catch glimpses of her furry sex; her large breasts hanging as she manoeuvred, swinging even; and her face, all smiles and a look of sexual excitement -- yes, that was it! To have her reach, hold his penis and guide it as she slowly lowered herself. Just so exciting to watch; Miss Redmond's hips with that gorgeous and full patch of brilliant red descending towards his knob; he already knew how wet and warm it was from his fingers but now it would be his penis going in. A touch and then she was bobbing up and down on his knob, playing with it at the entrance to her body.

Unbelievable: if his friends from school could see him now... well, perhaps not. But how jealous they would be!

Down slipped Miss Redmond. Jim watched her face. There was undoubted pleasure upon it. Mr Crowfoot's study did not just require women to submit to men, it encouraged their sexual enjoyment; women orgasmed in the study -- they very much did. Perhaps the room fed on that. Momentarily Jim was lost in thoughts of an alien being possessing the study and feeding on sexual energy. He had, maybe, read too many SF stories and books when younger, perhaps too much Philip José Farmer.

He was more than brought back by the realisation Miss Redmond was sitting upon him with his penis completely absorbed into her. For the first time ever, Jim Costin's penis was naked inside a woman; no latex barrier, no nothing separating his penile flesh from the so soft warmth and wetness of an unprotected vagina.

"Suck my tits, Jim."

'Tits' -- from Miss Redmond!?

He did as he was told -- of course, she had been his teacher - sucking her lovely little nipples -- both of them -- taking more than them or areolae into his mouth, drawing in as much of her soft flesh as he could as slowly Miss Redmond rose up and down his hard penis. A gentle, wet massage indeed.

Lying back, he watched as his teacher's hips rose and descended, riding his cock; boobs swaying up and down; her lovely body in motion. Her red bush, her triangle of curls rising and falling. It was clear she was enjoying what she was doing; the look on her face implied imminent orgasm. This was great, this was wonderful, this had to happen again. Reaching, he began stroking Miss Redmon's clitoris with his finger; palm upwards he brought his hand in under her gorgeous red curls and began a gentle manipulation of her button. So smooth, so warm to the touch, so wet and evidently, by the reaction, just so sensitive. He sent her over. Quite clearly, and definitely, sent his ex-teacher over the line. So good to watch her face contorting as he had never seen in class; see her mouth go slack. What a pretty mouth - he just had to come between her lips someday, Mr Crowfoot must, just must, ensure that.

Miss Redmond had been careful; careful, as an experienced woman, not to make her man come too soon; riding Jim slowly, watching him to ensure he did not suddenly look too agitated; but now, in the throes of her orgasm, she rather lost control. She rode Jim hard, thrusting herself down hard upon him, pushing his erection up as far as she could before, lifting herself with her thigh muscles, only to push down hard again and at speed. A woman using a man. The sucking noises were loud, perhaps loud enough for Mr Crowfoot to hear elsewhere in the house; wet, copulatory noises accompanied by moans from Miss Redmond. There was nothing about Jim making himself come, it was all Miss Redmond; he was indeed being fucked by his ex-teacher; it was she forcing the impregnation. Had she not been on the Pill... and that was so in Jim's mind, the idea of the carnal act as procreative; the thought of it as he felt himself building, building to release; the idea of fertilising Miss Redmond!

The pleasure of that first spurt up into the woman; she looking down at his face, he up into hers; down she came pushing his knob right up against her cervix as it expelled a second and stronger spurt out of his penis with some force, perhaps even so on target as to project it through the narrow opening into her womb itself, maybe her husband had come in her vagina that very morning but maybe it was Jim who had ejaculated further into her; had the Pill not prevented an ovum rolling down a fallopian tube might it not have found itself bathed in a veritable army of Jim Costin's spermatozoa, surrounded and besieged with her husband's own far away.

All too quick, and it always was, the spurting came and then dribbled away, the male copulatory act reaching its climax and then it was all over. Miss Redmond rose up one last time and kept rising, Jim's penis fell away and dropped down on his stomach and he caught a glimpse, a wonderful glimpse of her open, penis shaped, vagina before it closed, just so wonderfully framed by engorged lips and lovely, lovely red curls. She got up off her knees, staggered a few feet and collapsed onto a chair.

Jim lay there on the Chesterfield, gasping with recent exertion, staring at Miss Redmond's open thighs and what he had just done. And he could very much see that. The evidence was there. His semen, white and creamy, no longer in his body but in hers. He could see it, creeping a little from her body, a little lava like flow from out of her vagina. It had been so good -- the release -- the feeling of his stuff rushing up his urethra, the climax of what he had been doing with his former teacher. He was not alone in looking: standing in the doorway was Mr Crowfoot.

"That, Miss Redmond, is Jim's first ever copulation without a condom."

"I am honoured, Jim."

He felt more than that, elated in fact and amazed what he had been able to do to his old teacher. He could see what he had done. Very clearly see what he had done.

"I, on the other hand..." Mr Crowfoot was stating what Jim already knew. A fact he had already verified by seeing the act, several times. "But that does not mean I would not like also to copulate with you, Miss Redmond. May I? Could you accommodate?"

The slight widening and gentle closing of feminine thighs was acquiescence. Despite being 'post coitum omne animalium triste est,' Jim's interest in feminine flesh had not completely abated. He stared at the sticky way Miss Redmond's lips opened and closed. He was a little amazed to know it was his own stickiness that was there. Notwithstanding his somewhat loss of interest, he found himself already looking forward to a second bout with Miss Redmond. Perhaps Mr Crowfoot might keep her there all morning. Could, between them, the two men keep Miss Redmond occupied? Of course, she was hardly likely to demur - not in Mr Crowfoot's study: that was not what women did. Not at all. It would, though, leave a long blank in her memory... albeit quite the contrary for Jim.

Once more Jim was watching his new friend engaging in sexual acts. He yielded the Chesterfield and sat on a chair to watch. Jim almost seemed to see Mr Crowfoot more times naked with an exposed, erect penis than not! Mr Crowfoot seemed quite extracted from the stupor, or was it despair, of recent years. Jim might have qualms -- sometimes anyway -- about what he was doing in Mr Crowfoot's study, but he could not deny it seemed to be having a very beneficial effect upon the man himself. The man had been so sad that he could no longer entice young women into his study and so delighted Jim had become the conduit for a renewed 'flow' of young women. Yet Jim was not directly responsible for Miss Redmond's appearance; he had not invited her into the house; that had been Mr Crowfoot -- but how? He would ask when they were alone.

"How, how did you find her? I mean, how did you get her to go into that room?" Miss Redmond had gone. Mr Crowfoot had seen her out, had dressed and taken her to the front door. Their conversation at the door had gone on for quite a time. Jim had listened from the study. It was the last words that Jim had particularly caught. 'I look forward to seeing you again, Miss Redmond' with the reply, 'me too, Mr Crowfoot.' The idea of being able to do all that again with his former teacher; see her so ginger hair in intimate places; to have her suck his cock again; to... he had to go the whole hog with a blow job. He just had to.

"You enjoyed that? I know I did." Mr Crowfoot walked back into the study.

"Yes, a dream..."

"A wet dream come true, Jim?"

"Yeah! So, a wet dream. But how?"

"I know your old headmaster. I asked. You had given me her name, Rachel. Of course, she is not Redmond now but Bennet, Mrs Rachel Bennet, but that was no problem. Nor was it a problem when the headmaster talked about her special interest in Cuba and the Caribbean. I have several rather old and interesting books on the geography of the region. It was a hook and when he mentioned them to her... Well, she wished to see them in my library. Perhaps you noticed them on the study desk. Perhaps you didn't, you being more interested in, um, female anatomy! She's gone off with them, as happy as a sandboy."

"She'll have to return them."

"No doubt. I am sure she will. I cannot imagine her keeping them and not returning them. So, what would you like to do with her then when she comes back? I suggested she lets me know when she plans to return them, so that I am here to receive her... and I make sure you are here as well, of course. Anything extra special you might like?"