Satisfaction Pt. 03: Ch. 10 to 13

"Oh. Americans."

"We love Americans."

"I can tell by the amount of American TV programs you have," I joked back.

"Yea. They're OK. I've been to LA. What part you from?" This question came from a very large friend to the left of the first questioner.

"Maine. On the east coast."

"Don't know that."

There were four of them. Apart from the redhead and the big man, there was a large attractive Maori man with lip and forehead tattoo and a girl with long black hair and heavy makeup to look somewhat Goth. They were all drinking beer from bottles.

"So why do you come here in the middle of winter?" The red-headed fellow asked.

"I'm a teacher and the only chance for vacations is in our summer -- your winter. I've wanted to see New Zealand for a long time."

"What do you think of it?"

"Spectacular."

"Really. It's boring as shit." The Maori spoke with a deep slow voice.

"It really is a beautiful land. The mountains, the forest, the fjords, the pastures...all of it is great." The Maori shrugged.

The redhead again, "What do you teach?"

"Art."

The girl jumped in, "Josh is a great artist. He's off to art college next February."

I looked at Josh, the red-headed guy, "What do you draw?"

"I sketch with charcoal or carbon pencils and paint with acrylics mainly."

Once more the girl jumped in, "He paints sheep, and cows, landscapes and fantabulous nudes. He's painted me a dozen times." She jumped up, and in a single movement pulled her sweater up to show us all her breasts.

"TMI, Julia." They all laughed a bit wildly.

Josh signaled the barman and another round of beers and a glass of wine for me arrived at the table.

"What's your name?"

I told them, "Andrea, but most people call me Andy."

"The big guy is Phil, tits over there is Jules for Julia and that is Mo," pointing to Maori, "and I'm Josh."

"What do you guys do?"

Josh was clearly the spokesperson for the group. "I'm helping Phil at the plumbing firm where he is an apprentice before I go to college. Jules is a hairdresser and Mo works on a farm."

"Do you get time to paint when you are working?" I was curious.

"Sure. Sometimes I goof off and Phil covers for me, especially if Jules if free. She's got a great body." I could see that.

Josh continued, "Hey, you're not so bad yourself." I must have blushed a bit and could not hold my eyes on him as he said this to my face.

To cover my embarrassment I blurted, "For an old gal?"

Phil grunted, "I like mature."

In retrospect I should have slid out of the conversation at this point and returned to my tour group.

"Is this school you teach at a big, humungous place with like five-thousand students?" I was pleased at the safer ground. "No. Actually it's quite modest, just twelve-hundred students. A Catholic co-ed school."

Phil looked up. "Uniforms? Short skirts?"

"Oh, you guys. You're all the same. Sure, the girls roll up their waistbands -- with plenty of leg on show, although some of the heavier girls would be better with long skirts. Us teachers are always trying to police the dress code -- a losing battle, the boys were always pleased."

"Can you see their knickers?" Phil again.

"No Phil. We allow a bit of latitude, but no panty shows." I tried to put as much bored disdain into my voice as possible.

Another signal I missed to get out.

"I once had a crush on my biology teacher. She was gorgeous. Great tits and ass. Any of your students have a crush on you?"

Not quite dangerous ground, but the two glasses of wine and a third full glass in front of me, allowed me to ignore the potentially difficult direction the conversation was going. "I think a few did have a crush on me when I was younger, but I coped just fine."

"Any direct approaches?"

"Direct? What do you mean?"

"Any student say,'I'd like to fuck you'?"

I put on my most indignant voice, "No!"

"Oh, that's surprising. You're quite a TILF." Phil once more.

"TILF?"

"You work it out." I had no idea what he was talking about.

"Phil, do you member Moira? She was Jim's elder sister. She became a teacher in a girl's Catholic high school. I remember her laughing when she told me she had to sign a Moral Turpitude contract -- can you imagine Moira signing that. What a joke. Her having no hanky-panky on the side, or she could be fired -- what a joke. Andy do you have the same?"

"Something like that. Gotta keep up the moral tone at all times..."

"In that case, one more. Drink up Andy." Another round appeared at the table. In spite of my objections to the next round I found myself sipping the third glass, whilst a fourth awaited me. About the same time the tour crowd, who were mostly much older than me, said their goodnights and left. The tour motel was just next door.

Jules was looking pensive. I caught her eye. She blurted out, "Andy, would you like to see Josh's work. I know he'd love to show you and maybe you can give him a critique." I registered my surprise that she knew the word "critique". It was still only nine-thirty and I was not tired.

"Why not?"

"We only live about fifteen minutes away. We can deliver you back here."

"You all live together?"

"Yep, all except Mo, but he often stays with us." Mo just nodded. "We can have you back here within an hour."

"As long as you get me back by eleven it'll be fine."

"Drink up."

"No. No more wine, thank you."

At this point you must realize the wine had dulled my good sense, but I was in full control of my faculties. I collected my purse and put on my coat.

We all piled into a truck that had a plumbing sign on the side. "Josh you're the smallest, and the two girls get in the back seat." It made sense. There was tight bench seat behind the two front seats. I was squeezed in the middle between Jules and Josh. There was not much room.

Josh put his arm around my shoulders. We set out on the road making a series of turns. We were then out of the town into the dark country night. I felt Josh's hand curl around and his hand start rubbing the side of my breast. I pushed his hand away. The second time I yanked it away and turned towards Jules. She was quite tipsy and rested head on my shoulder moving Josh's arm out of the way. As we turned onto a farm track, Jules moved her head towards me and started kissing my neck. "Stop that Jules," I said in my most authoritarian voice. She ignored me and ran her tongue along my jawline. I shuddered and leaned forward, hunched up. The truck stopped.

"All out" Phil shouted and laughed. I realized I had no idea where we were and how to get back. Even with this uncertainty I did not feel particularly nervous. I had been around kids the age of my new friends all my working life and felt comfortable around them, in fact I enjoyed their company more than many so-called adults.

As we entered the farmhouse, I was assailed by two immediate impressions, both of which took me by surprise. The house was very warm, and it was very tidy. I took off my coat in the hall and hung it on a fine antique hallstand. In spite of the heat, I decided to leave my sweater on since I would not be staying long, and its removal may be interpreted as some sort of signal.

I also took off my zip-up boots to puzzled looks. My North American habits die hard. I had stockings on. As we entered the living room my attention was first drawn to a modern teak bookcase was filled with trophies. I also noticed that the rest of the furniture was fairly new in the Scandinavian style, and well kept.

"Wow. Who're all the winners?"

"All of us. It's our rugger teams' winning ways. We were regional champs."

"All three of us, plus twelve others of course, on the team and our masseuse Jules. I play fly half and Mo and Phil are fearsome forwards," Josh explained. I was getting the group dynamic of Josh always being the spokesman. "Do any sport?"

"I run -- track and field. I guess athletics to you. I also manage the school track and field team. I reached the Olympic trials for the eight-hundred-meters."

"That's cool."

"Now I do ten-k and have done two Boston marathons, both under three-and-a-half-hours."

"Wow. A serious runner. Good for you. But I am curious -- you must be what thirty, forty. Do you find yourself slowing down?"

I quietly blessed him for the underestimation of my age but did not correct him. "No, strangely I am even better on the longer distances, although I wouldn't want to do an eight-hundred-meter race again. That answer you?"

Phil piped in, "Thought you had runner's legs."

"Thank you, Phil," I paused, "I think." It raised a smile from everyone.

I was conscious of the heat. I asked for a drink of water. "Better not water. We are on a well and it tastes pretty rank. We have a New Zealand pop called Lemon and Paeroa. It's nice and sharp and sweet at the same time. Very New Zealand. OK?"

"Sure."

"A Paeroa special, Phil. Phil's our chef and kitchen master." Phil did as he was bidden and scooted into the kitchen.

"I am curious, Josh, why do you keep the place so hot?'

"Revenge."

"Revenge?" I was trying to see how revenge came into the situation.

"Our landlord's a prick. He's always on our back, but the cost of heat is included in the rent. We try to use as much heating oil as we can to cost him the most. Get it."

"I got it." It was petty, but it did explain the sauna conditions in the house.

Phil came out from the kitchen with a large glass pitcher of what I took to be Paeroa. The pitcher was garnished with lemons and limes, and ice cubes floating in the liquid. I was suspicious. What was the "special" aspect of this drink? I knew enough about date rape drugs to be cautious.

"What else is in it?" I asked as innocently as possible.

"Just Paeroa and ice from filtered water, and the lemons and limes." I was still cautious.

"You try it first." I nodded to Josh.

"Sure." He went into the kitchen and came back with a glass, filled it from the pitcher and drank it in one large gulp.

"Great Phil, as usual." I took a large glass of Paeroa -- it was lemony and sweet at the same time with a vaguely familiar after-taste. But it was refreshing.

Jules played with what looked like an iPod and a radio arrangement. After some frustration she got some music going and then changed the playlist to dance music. The drink cooled me and at the same time gave me a nice glow. I had a second large glass. Jules yanked up Phil and they started dancing. The way they danced was universal to young adults: I was familiar with it from chaperoning our school dances on a regular basis. The truth of this is that I enjoy dancing and the moves I pick up watching the kids I practice at home in front of a mirror. As a small child I wanted to be a dancer.

After a while Josh asked me to dance -- I accepted. It was fun and innocent entertainment. I surprised them with the fluidity of my movements; my rhythm was spot on and some of my moves were better than theirs.

"Wow, Andy aren't you the surprising fox. Nice moves." This from Phil.

Josh left me dancing on my own to go off somewhere -- maybe a pee -- and Mo got up and replaced him. Mo, the quiet one, moved exquisitely. We flowed together. Even Jules stopped to watch us. This went on for about ten minutes. I was beginning to sweat, and I asked for something a bit slower, but got the answer "No way." Even Mo was now sweating.

I sat feeling very hot and decided I could no longer avoid taking off my cashmere sweater. I had a white sleeveless blouse under it. I pulled the hem out of the skirt waistband. The blouse was not tight, but the sweat made it cling to me and was transparent in places. I could see Josh and Phil's eyes light up, although there was nothing much on display.

"Andy."

"Yes Phil?'

"Show us how your students roll up their skirts."

"No way."

"C'mon. You got great legs show them off a bit." I wore my skirt length just above my knees. Then all three of them the started chanting "legs, legs, legs...." I thought to myself where's the harm? I was determined to be one of them for the evening. I often regretted not being able to participate in some of my students' fun.

Accordingly, I started rolling up my skirt using some dance moves to make it sexier, until the hem was well up my thighs. Phil's eyes were wide open, Josh had a big grin, Jules seemed to be licking her lips constantly and Mo was just Mo showing nothing.

"Oh, those stocking tops -- your wearing thigh-highs, not pantyhose. Oh-my-God, delicious." Phil was in rapture. I then noticed that his baggy shorts were tented over a huge erection. He was hung, I could tell. It felt great to be able to arouse a nineteen-year-old kid. We all danced some more.

I broke for a pee. In the exceptionally clean bathroom, I realized my eyes were red, and my blouse showed a bit more than I thought. My pink bra was almost fully visible. Fortunately, the bra was fairly substantial such that my nipples were not visible. I returned to the sitting room and sat on the low sofa. The roll in my waistband was uncomfortable to lean back on, so I started to unroll it. Before I got very far Phil was at my feet on the floor. Before I knew what was happening, he had pulled my thighs apart. I screamed, "Phil. Stop that!!" He ignored me.

"White knickers." Josh and Jules joined Phil in front of me. "And they are wet, just a bit transparent. You don't shave, I see." Try as I could I could not close my legs together. Phil was too strong. I started to push my skirt down to cover myself, but Jules and Josh reached up and grabbed my arms preventing that course of action. I relaxed a bit and tried another tack.

"What's the big deal? I am sweating and I am damp. Seen enough? Let me up."

"If it's no big deal then why worry about it?" I open my legs wider in an "I'll show them" gesture.

"Satisfied?"

"What a pussy. Marvelous." Phil again. They just stayed where they were looking between my open legs.

"OK. What now?" Silence.

"OK. Here's the deal. I take off my skirt." With a twisted bit of logic my mind rationalized the situation: I was concerned my skirt was getting scrunched up and badly creased. It was the only presentable skirt I had with me on the tour.

"Only if all the guys take off their shirts." It only took a moment for Josh and Phil to comply. Mo had to be leaned on by his two friends to join the party. The Jules removed her top to reveal beautiful breasts with slightly puffed up hard nipples. I stood and removed my skirt to a round of cheers.

"Stockings too?" I received a universal "No way. Leave them on."

My blouse was long enough to cover most of my panties, so I did not feel too exposed. In any event, I ran all the time with high cut shorts and my panties were sensible, although the white did make them a bit transparent when they were wet. I finished up the Paeroa from the pitcher. Phil was quick to replenish it in the kitchen.

The dancing continued for another half hour or more. We were all slowing down. Phil was now dancing with Jules against his bare chest. Josh and Mo alternated dancing with me, but with no closeness. I noticed Josh sketching me when he was sitting.

We sat again and with a little bit of devilment I sat with my legs spread slightly.

"You've not seen my paintings yet."

"Let me see what you were just sketching first while I was dancing." Josh showed me. They were loose gestural lines with a lot of movement. More importantly I was naked on the paper.

"Not bad, Josh."

"Like my interpretation then?"

"I am OK with it." As I was saying this there was a flash. Phil has used his iPhone to take a shot of me. I was provoked.

"You might have asked," I shouted. I then proceeded to take up a series of poses for Phil with a taunting "Got that one? You voyeur you."

Jules came and wrapped herself around me, but still with one of her bare breasts showing, whilst Phil snapped a bunch more of us. It came to me that Phil had been taking shots of me dancing earlier before I became aware of his latest shots.

"Josh, where are your paintings?" I took another swig of the Paeroa. "Anything to eat in the kitchen?" Feeling hungry I strode into the kitchen. There were empty bottles of Paeroa on the counter along with lemon and lime skins on a wooden chopping block.

What caught my attention was the empty vodka bottle. I realized I was fairly drunk with the spiked drink. I never guessed. No wonder I was walking around in my panties and a half-transparent blouse. At this point I told myself, "What the hell. I am having as much fun as I can remember. Let's see where this goes."

Josh's room was as neat as the rest of the house. There was a big double bed a drawing board and a permanent easel with a half-finished canvas on it. Canvasses were stacked against one wall facing in. A multi-drawer cabinet was labeled with paints and brushes. A clean palette was on the cabinet.

Josh brought out two portfolio holders. He spread the first one on the drawing board. It mainly contained the animals. Josh showed an understanding of his material -- he was close to the farm. The landscapes were marginally OK. I told him in clear terms to stick with the livestock and leave the landscape as vague background. He pushed back a bit but accepted what I said.

The second portfolio was of a different order. Mainly of Jules, but with a few other adult portraits and life studies using a lot of impasto. The paintings reminded me of Lucien Freud's work. I mentioned this and Josh lit up. "He's my hero." I had rung his bell. As I leaned over the drawing board with a painting of Jules masturbating spread out before me, Josh reached around me from behind and pressed both my breasts. I could feel his arousal.

"Josh...." I should have given him a stinging rebuke but at that moment my defenses were down, and he was exultant from my praise. I had been accepted into the cohort of their youth. I had always been on the outside looking in at the drama that was the lives of my students. Now I was living it for a brief moment. I wanted this experience. I needed it. Moral turpitude indeed.

His hands moved to undo my blouse as I leaned forward over the drawing board. The buttons were slowly released and his hands then found the front clasp of my bra. He kept his weight on me. I could feel his hardness on my butt crack. His hands then caressed my bare breasts and he tweaked my nipples. I made no attempt to stop him.

"Andy. Can I sketch you on the bed? Naked?"

I could not refuse him. He backed off me and I moved to the bed. I pulled off my open blouse, bra and panties. And lay down. Phil came into the room with a video camera. "Showtime!" He looked at me and grabbed his cock through his shorts, whilst keeping the lens pointing at me. His vulgarity was consistent.

I lay on the bed whilst Josh sketched. Phil stroked my image with the lens of the camera. Josh then grabbed a bigger pad of drawing paper. He called for Jules to come in. She arrived and for a moment her eyes opened wide. "Join her."

Jules stripped off her jeans and panties in one motion, pooling them on the floor and jumped on the bed behind me. Her arms circled me. One hand grabbed a nipple and pinched it. The pain went straight to my pussy. Her other hand came around and her finger settled on my clit. She started to rub. "Perfect stay like that." I lost myself in the mounting pleasure unaware of the Josh's drawing and Phil's lens capturing the moment. I came with a spasm that seemed to last for minutes, my body stiffening in Jules arms. As I came down Jules pulled my face towards her and kissed me with an open mouth her tongue exploring me. I came again gently. This was the first time I had ever had a woman touch me. I liked it. Very much.

Phil stopped taking his shot and arched his shorts over his erection. He had a fine cock. Not as large as I had earlier thought nor particularly thick but straight and well-formed. He pulled the foreskin back and then started to masturbate. Jules left me. I beckoned Phil over to me and took his cock in my mouth. He came within seconds, so I pulled off momentarily with his jism spilling down over my breasts. Recovering I captured the erupting cock in my mouth and swallowed the rest. I noticed Jules videoing my ministrations.