Room with a Secret Ch. 13

And Saturday came around, as it inevitably would with the onward march of time - and Miss Redmond duly appeared for lunch. She was nicely dressed, again with those white boots, but her skirt was blue and her blouse yellow. It was funny how women remembered what they had worn last and made sure they did not wear the same outfit. Jim would never be able to remember which shirt he had last worn on a visit to someone. He liked what he saw, but, there again, he would probably like most anything Miss Redmond wore... or did not wear.

Mr Crowfoot introduced, or rather reminded Miss Redmond, of his young friend from across the road, Jim Costin. It was very strange going through all those questions about what he had been doing since leaving school, what he was doing now, et cetera, things that he had gone through with Miss Redmond when he had first been reintroduced to her in Mr Crowfoot's study. That had, though, been very much under the influence of that special room. Miss Redmond remembered nothing of that, or probably nothing. There was just the hint of a start when she saw him there in Mr Crowfoot's front room, rising to greet her. Some perhaps residual memory rather like a dream. Jim, though, very well remembered that first sexual meeting. How could he forget opening the study door whilst stark naked and sporting an erection and walking in on her like that! There had been a jelly like feeling in his legs then, a degree of tongue-tiedness, though that was less so this time. He had, after all, not that she knew of course, fucked her again quite recently! Nevertheless, the ingrained response to talking to the teacher, learnt from when a small boy, kicked in automatically. "Err, how are you, miss?"

She held out her hand and suggested perhaps now he might call her 'Rachel.'

It was good to sit and drink sherry and hear about the school and her marriage to Mr Bennet. How they had met and so on. Mr Crowfoot was good at getting people to talk, easy and delightful. He did not appear at all the lecherous old man.

A pleasant lunch in the dining room. It was what came afterwards that held particular interest for Jim.

"Shall we have coffee? Perhaps in my study, it catches the afternoon sun."

How pleasant to rise and head for that particular room, the not so secret room looking out at the back garden, just an ordinary room through a heavy, polished oak door. Jim, though, turned and headed to the kitchen to make the coffee. What would he find when he brought the tray with coffeepot and cups into the study?

"We were discussing dreams, Jim. I think, perhaps, I let my curiosity get the better of me. An old man's failing, maybe, to be a bit too direct in my questioning, I asked her whether women have wet dreams. You have wet dreams don't you Jim?"

Miss Redmond had gone the colour of her maiden name - bright red. Jim felt a little the same. One thing to answer Mr Crowfoot, but rather different with Miss Redmond. Suddenly he found himself feeling a little how he might have felt had Miss Redmond asked him that question back at school.

"Not really a question for your class, is it Rachel," said Mr Crowfoot, "hands up those of you who have wet dreams!"

"I think they all would, if truthful."

"Including the girls?"

"Oh yes! Much the same but the 'wet' bit is different. Heart rate up, breathing harder, all lubricating and clitoris hard. Of course, you have to wake to know it's happened - happening - not like the boys who find out in the morning!"

It was lovely to hear Miss Redmond talk of such things. Jim was hard in a moment.

"And do you have them?"

"Sometimes, even with my husband - and him too. I've washed his pyjamas and..."

"A bit starched?"

"Precisely."

"Could be wanking - does he masturbate, Rachel?" Once started, Mr Crowfoot was not letting the subject go. He would not, not until both he and Jim were satiated!

She shrugged, "I think so."

"And what do you dream about that makes you wet? Perhaps the young men in your class with their wet dreams?"

"I'd like..." she paused as if a little unsure about what she was about to reveal, "I sometimes think about them and wonder... wonder what they're like naked and with their... yes I'd like to see their wet dreams. I sometimes imagine myself teaching at a boarding school, walking the dormitories at night. Hot nights where the young men's bedclothes are thrown back and..." Miss Redmond was biting her lip. The effect of the room clear. Not only was she revealing her thoughts, but they were arousing her. Within her not yet seen knickers, her sexual lips would be expanding, filling with blood, swelling and becoming darker in colour; her clitoris would be poking out from its hood, it too swelling; and her vagina would be moistening, her whole sex lubricating. A young woman's body preparing itself for copulation.

"Wet dreaming, Rachel?"

"Yes! I like to imagine those penises all hard, up in the air in the hot night, twitching, their skin back, their shiny knobs exposed, waving in the moonlight and..."

"Sometimes the orgasm can come very quickly in a wet dream, no sooner up than..."

"Oh yes! A lovely little cock, all curled around its balls, lying there in the moonlight as I stare at this athletic young man, perhaps I had seen him on the rugger field pounding down the field and scoring a try that very afternoon. And now, naked and so exposed, all litheness and hard muscle, hot and sweating upon his bed, I see his penis jerk and start to uncoil; throbbing as it turns around and rises, foreskin creeping back as he exposed himself fully to me! No sooner up, lifted from his body, all by its own strength than I see his balls, all wrinkled and large draw up, a pulsing at the base of his cock and out it comes all over his chest. It has only taken a few seconds. I count silently in my head, fourteen lovely spurts of his come."

"Would you really like to see..?" The wonder of the room. Miss Redmond would answer truthfully. Jim knew that; she would reveal her naughtiest thoughts - was revealing indeed! "Is that something you masturbate to in bed sometimes... do you play with yourself?" Of course, it had been a question in Jim's mind when at school. A question after he had done his 'prep.' and gone to bed. Did Miss Redmond do what he did in bed? Differently of course. She did not have a prick.

And that question had very much interested him back then. What were girls like - really? He knew now. Knew a very great deal more, thanks to Mr Crowfoot and his study; and he knew a lot more about Miss Redmond and was about to find out more.

Miss Redmond's smile such a delight, her voice a little deeper as she spoke to him, "Of course, Jim, I'd like to see." She leant a little closer, "I would like to touch, grasp his cock and help him come. Maybe just hold his balls as it all poured out of his prick, feel the pulsing." A pause. "Sometimes I imagine bringing my head, my lips down and swallowing down his come as it comes. He doesn't awake and there is nothing there in the morning to tell him he's had a wet dream! But I know. It's my secret. Yes, Jim I still masturbate sometimes - when my husband is away," another pause, "which he is quite a lot."

"Last night? Friday night? School over for the week."

"Yes, I did. He is away."

"And what did you think about. Do you think about the big boys a lot?" Jim knew she did or thought he knew. He had heard it before that first time in Mr Crowfoot's study. How she thought of punishing the big boys over her lap, their naked bottoms under a boxwood ruler wielded in her hand and their penises hanging down between her thighs as she wanked them. She had talked of spanking the whole class with the result, a great big puddle of semen building beneath her on the floor as the young men came one after the other. It had been an admission he had treasured. Certainly, it had seemed very real at the time unless Mr Crowfoot had planted the idea in her head and told her to make it up for his benefit.

"You wonder, Jim, whether I thought of you in bed back when you were at school. I can see you like the idea! I wonder if I did? Perhaps - I do sometimes think of the boys. I can't think I'm any different from the male teachers and some of the so buxom girls I teach. How can they not think of them, so grown up: so how can I not think of the young men?"

Mr Crowfoot leant forward, "Why don't you tell us what you thought of last night, my dear? Why don't you get undressed as if for bed and show us, Rachel, how you pleasure yourself? I'd like to see you do that, and I know young Jim will. We'll get our cocks out too, so you won't feel alone. All our genitalia out in the open eh?"

The thing - or one of the things - Jim had so thought about back in school. Miss Redmond undressing. Whether imagining it, absurdly, in class - before the whole class - or just Jim spying through a window; the sight of Miss Redmond taking her clothes off one by one. There she was, tall and with her lovely ginger hair all tied back, the ponytail moving as her fingers undid the buttons of her yellow blouse, fingers moving over the swell of her really busty chest; the so hoped for glimpse of her white brassiere - so hoped for back when at school - now visible and becoming the more so and, of course, the sight of more than a hint of mounded breast cupped within the garment. That alone would have been enough for Jim and probably the other boys in the class. Quite enough to send their penises into spasm in their hands. Quite enough had Miss Redmond absurdly suggested they come forward as she knelt on the classroom floor to empty their balls, two by two, into her only slightly revealed cleavage, soaking the brassiere and yellow cloth as they spurted down and into the valley between her breasts and within her brassiere.

"I imagine," said Miss Redmond, "not that I'd really want to, not actually, it'd be just too awful, really, undressing in front of a whole class. I tell the boys to 'get their penises out.' I want to watch the effect I have on them. I want to make all their cocks go hard. I want to see them thicken and rise because of me."

So good to just do that. So good for Jim to pull his cock from his fly and show Miss Redmond she had already had that effect upon him. No less Mr Crowfoot. Unbelievably, it seemed she had had the same sort of fantasy as Jim: she had thought of undressing - still did think of undressing - in front of a class. Jim watched, almost trembling with lust, as Miss Redmond slipped the yellow blouse from her shoulders and reached behind her. The effect upon his classmates would have been as electric and as effective. Boys at school, young men in reality, in their last year at school, closing on final A level examinations with hormones racing, would have so loved that. Geography students at eighteen years old itching to be done with school and to go out into the wide world, lusting after their sexy teacher.

It was clear Miss Redmond was imagining being in front of the class. The way she undid her brassiere and held it in place, her hands cupping, for a few moments before releasing and dropping it to the floor, so revealed her thoughts; as did the little shake she gave her now free breasts. Generous and firm, but not so firm as not to wobble, moving the revealed little pale pink nipples within really big pale pink areolae. Easy to see the puckering of the skin - the little bumps encircling her areolae and the smooth firmness of both breasts, nipples even pointing upwards, just a little.

Not only great for Jim to expose himself to his old teacher but then to start stroking himself - wanking in front of her and knowing, shortly and under Mr Crowfoot's instruction, she would be doing the same to herself.

Down came the blue skirt, leaving Miss Redmond in just white boots and equally white knickers - knickers with just the merest hint of her ginger curls peeking over their top.

"And did you think of undressing in front of your class last night in bed?"

Mr Crowfoot asked the question, his hand upon his swollen penis, easing his foreskin back and forth.

"No, I... sometimes... it's bad. Not at all what I'd really... but sometimes - like last night - I imagine giving a group of them some extra tuition at my house and things get out of hand."

Wonderful to see her standing there, biting her lip, one leg a little in front of the other wearing just those knickers and boots and telling all about her fantasy of having four to one sex.

"I suppose I imagine them forcing themselves upon me: I'm not unwilling - really. It's a bit mixed up. Sometimes I'm tied up, gagged and trussed, my wrists bound." Miss Redmond raised her hands above her head as if her wrists were tied above her. Other times I'm just held, you see. Four young men - five maybe - can hold me tight and just... do anything with me. My mouth stoppered maybe by another mouth and tongue or maybe..." her eyes fell significantly to the two erect penises in the room.

"Do they undress you Rachel?"

"They did last night. Sometimes I strip for them - to music"

"Not being forced there, Rachel!"

"Yes and no - you see it's a bargain I've got myself into. An 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours sort of thing.' Meant as a joke. I mean they're not little boys but grown men. Treating them as such, but they take it literally." A delightful shrug of her shoulders. "It's just a sexual fantasy, isn't it?"

"Show us how you play with yourself, Rachel, take your knickers off."

Jim was almost beside himself as Miss Redmond reached to roll her knickers down. Him desperate to stand and push himself against her, so keen to see her bush revealed and anxious to hear more of her very personal and erotic thoughts.

"Meant as a joke but they just strip and suddenly I have four or five naked young men in my sitting room. Lovely firm young men - of course the best-looking young men in my class - yeah, firm in body and firm... all with their pricks as hard as anything. I like to imagine what they're like - I wonder if I imagined yours, Jim? I don't have to wonder now, do I?"

Down came the knickers and there it was. Miss Redmond's flaming femininity - her gorgeously red triangle of curls. "And if they've stripped, I can hardly not do the same and strip too, can I?"

"Fair's fair," said Jim, his eyes upon her bush.

In a way, with the female so much less to see than men - when standing - the female genitalia all hidden away between her legs, but something so aesthetically pleasing and erotic about the smoothness. The smoothness of thigh and dimpled stomach; the smooth rounding of the Mons Veneris and with its half hidden slit mysteriously drawing the eyes downwards to that unseen genitalia; and, of course, the soft bushiness of the curling hair so very there- its softness, like a cat, you could not but want to stroke the fur.

"Yes, fair's fair," Miss Redmond said, settling upon the Chesterfield, "and if I'm going to make them all come - they've got to make me come!"

Miss Redmond was going to show them - show Mr Crowfoot and Jim what she did alone in bed. Wonderful to see her hands begin to caress her body. There was silence now, Miss Redmond giving a demonstration and the two men were just watching. And what men would not enjoy seeing a pretty redhead demonstrate masturbation in front of them whilst they stroked their cocks. Easy to imagine four or five schoolboys sitting around Miss Redmond whilst she did just that, each boy with his cock out and masturbating. But Miss Redmond seemed to like to imagine the young men doing rather more: stripping the clothes from her; holding her down - or at least some of them holding her whilst the others did 'things' to her; easy to imagine one to her left and one to her right holding an arm and a leg, ensuring her thighs were well spread; one young man with his cock stoppering her mouth whilst another was between her thighs slowly penetrating her. All eyes, but Miss Redmond's, of course upon the invading penis. All, though, would invade in turn.

Incredible really to see Miss Redmond touching, squeezing and then stroking her breasts; pulling at her pink nipples. It was almost too much for Jim. He felt a hand upon his shoulder.

"Not yet, Jim, not yet."

He did as he was told by his friend, but so difficult to sit there with his penis so hard and not seek to jump up and go to copulate with Miss Redmond. Even more so when she parted her thighs. All at once Mr Bennet's 'playground' in view. Not just the slit beneath her triangle of curls but all visible: her outer lips swollen and pleasingly dotted with red curls; her inner lips all parted too, protective soft flaps of skin standing aside to reveal what was hidden within - Miss Redmond's sexual entrance; above it the lips narrowed and there stood her pleasure button, her clitoris, with its oversailing hood coming down from the slit or valley which ran up and petered out between her triangle of hair.

"Do you sometimes," Jim could not help it. He broke the silence. "Do you imagine you're in control; that'll you'll bring them off if they do what you want?" Jim was looking at her sex, wanting to press his face and mouth into her wetness.

Miss Redmond looked at Jim and her tongue slipped across her lips, "You see, Jim, I like being fucked; I like sucking cock; I like the thought of two meaty cocks poking at me, two smooth round knobs pressing at my mouth trying to get in - together; I like the thought of semen splashing hot on my skin. I like the idea of being the plaything of a whole group of boys. I like..."

"Would you like to have one in your bottom and one in your..."

"You naughty boy, Jim! Would like to do that? Push your cock up my bum?"

It had occurred to him!

"Mmmm, but being in control," she mused, "yes, I imagine that too, but the conclusion is much the same - lots of boys on me! But I do like to imagine them tonguing me one after another. There's something about opening your legs when you've got all squishy and juicy and pushing a boy's head down to lick and suck. You wouldn't know Jim - you're not a girl. Very evidently not a girl!"

Miss Redmond was playing. Her fingers were in between her thighs, moving as if she was playing the piano, moving across the keys. So very exciting to the aroused male to see fingers disappear up to the knuckle within her sexual channel - the action so like what the male wished to do with his... oboe.

"Would you like to, Jim? Better... yes, do as you're told, Jim, come here, between my legs."

He hardly needed to be told. Was up and on his knees in seconds as Miss Redmond swung around upon the Chesterfield and sat up with legs apart. No sooner was he in position than she pushed her fingers into his mouth. The very fingers that had been inside her. He sucked greedily and then, as the fingers were withdrawn, notwithstanding the suction he applied to keep them there, he felt her push firmly upon the back of his head and in he went; splash - almost!

So warm, so wet, so wonderful. Juicy indeed, squishy and succulent. Jim licked and probed with his tongue. Swirling around and penetrating his ex-teacher. If he had been merely one of a group of boys, what would Miss Redmond have been doing with the others? Sucking one perhaps with the other two young men's penises clasped in her hands maybe rubbing their smooth bell ends against her nipples. What else would Miss Redmond do with four of five big lads at her disposal? More pressure to the back of his head and then he felt the shuddering and a surge of female lubrication. Miss Redmond was in the throes of orgasm all over his face.

Surfacing, he found Miss Redmond had at least found a penis to suck. There were insufficient penises for her to hold a pair as well, but Mr Crowfoot had very clearly decided to join in, or, perhaps, in a gentlemanly manner, help Miss Redmond with her fantasy. He was not, of course, exactly a young man of eighteen years, though the firmness of his erection half inside Miss Redmond's mouth would not at all have disappointed or embarrassed any eighteen-year old lad. Miss Redmond had her eyes closed and, despite having just come, was clearly enjoying the suck, her head nodding forwards and backwards so her widely spread and rounded lips just slid upon the penile skin.