School Love

We lay and fondled for a time, marvelling in each other's presence. Then Anthony sucked my breasts, twirling his tongue around first one engorged nipple then the other. He was soon stiff again, and this time it was I who eased him onto his back, straddling him. He glanced at my bedside clock and whispered, "Have we got tiiii...." I let my hips fall and impaled myself on his magnificent prick, which slammed deep inside me, prodding my cervix. I rested my hands on his chest, stroking his nipples with my fingers, enjoying the look of sheer ecstasy on his face as I rode him, lifting slowly to the tip of his cock then dropping like an eager hawk on its prey, over and over, loving his little groans and the feeling of my pussy straining around his mighty rod. That time we came more or less at the same time, both crying with joy as I bucked up and down on him before pitching forward, gasping for air.

It was with the greatest reluctance that we got out of bed and dressed. In fact, we mis-timed it. As we were heading for the door, I heard a key turn in the lock and Jules walked in. She stared open-mouthed, then said, "Bonjour Antoine -- again."

Thinking quickly, I patted him on the shoulder, and said, "Don't worry, the report's fine, it's just what you need to impress the examiners." I closed the door behind him and, my face flushing in embarrassment, went and sat on the sofa, trying to look innocent, and hoping Jules hadn't noticed that Anthony didn't actually have a report in his hands!

When she had hung up her coat, Jules came and joined me. She looked at me appraisingly through half-closed eyes. "Every time I see him you are helping him with some essay. Yeah, right. Mel, I have to ask you this, are you fucking mad?" Unable to meet her gaze, I said I was just giving Anthony a little extra coaching, to help him towards his exams. Jules scoffed at me. "Oh sure, and I'm gonna be the next pope. I know exactly what you're giving that randy little bugger."

I looked beseechingly at her. "Are you going to report us?"

Jules tried to give me a stern glare, but couldn't pull it off. She sank back into her chair with a huge sigh. "No, of course I'm not, Mel. As far as I'm concerned you're both consenting adults, and it's between you. But you've got to realise, the school won't see it like that. Just be fucking careful, that's all I'm saying."

In the next hour or so, over mugs of cocoa, I told Jules exactly how I felt about Anthony. When I finished she looked inexpressibly sad. "Mel...my Mel, I'm pleased for you, I truly am, and I believe that you really do love each other. But have you thought about what happens in a few weeks? He leaves school then, after the summer, he goes away to Durham. It's a long way Mel. Are you going to follow him? And remember what it was like for you at university? I love seeing you happy, but I'm worried you're going to end up getting badly hurt."

I hadn't thought about what would happen at the end of term, had deliberately avoided doing so. Over the next couple of weeks Anthony and I met at weekends, kissing and fondling in my car, pleasuring each other with our hands in secluded woods and parks, under my old blanket. And each Tuesday, with Jules' tacit blessing, Anthony visited me at her home, and we made love. We always made sure he left before Jules returned, to avoid further embarrassing her. The last time we met there, Anthony went down on me, at his own request. He clearly hadn't done it before, but I guided his fingers onto my clit, and as he stroked it between thumb and forefinger, his tongue licking along my pussy and dipping into me, I had an explosive orgasm, wailing like a fire siren as I gushed onto his face.

As he worked his way through his exams though, and the dread day approached, I couldn't avoid thinking about the future; and about my past at uni. Finally I made the most difficult decision of my life, and texted him to meet me in my classroom after school. Closing the door behind him, I pulled up two chairs and we sat facing each other. I took his hands in mine, and said, "Anthony, baby, we've got to end this. I'm so sorry, my darling."

He stared at me in total disbelief, his face registering a series of feelings. It looked as if he was trying to work out if I was playing some incredibly cruel joke. Finally, he managed to say, "Why? I mean, I know I'll be in Durham, but we can still see each other. Maybe you could get a job there or something."

I shook my head, desperately trying not to cry. "I can't just magic up a teaching job at the other end of the country, even if I wanted to. And I don't want to do anything but teaching. Anyway, it's not just that. University's one of the most important things that'll ever happen to you. It's your first real period of independence, when you start to experiment with life, and discover for the first time who you really are. It would be totally unfair of me to tie you down, to a life with your old teacher."

I bit my lip as I saw tears form in his eyes. "Mel, you're the most important thing that's ever happened to me. And you're not old -- you can't be more than 30. My dad's eleven years older than my mum and no-one bothers. Look, I'll forget Durham, try and get a place locally, or give up the idea of uni altogether. You're the only thing that really matters to me."

I couldn't hold back any longer, and we both had tears coursing down our faces. I shook my head. "Don't you dare think about giving up. And Durham's a wonderful university, you've done brilliantly to get a place there. Look Anthony, you don't know what it's like. I promise you, by the time you graduate, I won't be more than a distant memory. I'll be lucky if you remember my name. Let's just end it, here and now, and avoid either of us getting hurt down the road."

He looked as if he was struggling to speak, then he stood and ambled towards the door. I thought he was going to leave without another word, but in the doorway he turned. "You're wrong Mel. You're so wrong. I love you, and if you tell me you don't love me you're a bloody liar. I'm going to go to Durham, and when I graduate I'm going to come back for you. If you don't want me then, fine -- but I'll still want you, and at least I'll have tried." His shoulders heaved and he rushed out of the room. That evening Jules was more like a mother than a friend, holding me, stroking my hair and cooing in my ear as I sobbed into her chest.

A lot can happen in four years. Anthony's parents moved away from the area, meaning he wouldn't be returning on vacation. I only knew that because they withdrew his little sister from my school. Anthony never contacted me, and I made no attempt to contact him. I got a divorce, accepting a lousy financial settlement to get my bastard ex out of my life as quickly as possible. I went back to my maiden name, Duncan. I got a promotion, to department head. And, with a little help from Jules, I got a dream job: a post at an international school in Paris. I was teaching, in English, the children of business people and diplomats from all over the globe, and of cosmopolitan Parisians. I was lucky enough to get a small apartment in the lively St Michel area, a stone's throw from the Seine. I made friends at the school and among my neighbours, and loved strolling around the parks, boulevards and alleyways of my beautiful new home city.

Despite my professional contentment, however, an air of melancholy had descended on me. One of my friends dubbed me 'the sad Madonna'. I lived a largely loveless existence as well. I did have one brief, disastrous affair with a much older man, who I didn't even like very much. That apart, I got several offers of dates from suave, attractive admirers, but my heart just wasn't in it.

One evening, I was settling in for a night in front of the TV with the stray cat I'd adopted when my 'phone rang. Half expecting a call from my mother, I lifted the receiver and said my name, only to hear a click and the dialling tone. Obviously a wrong number, I thought. I settled back down to the news. Ten minutes later my doorbell rang insistently. Sighing at the disturbance, I pushed Willow, the cat, off my lap and went to the door and looked through the peephole -- at the largest bouquet of flowers I'd ever seen. Intrigued, I opened the door, and behind the flowers stood Anthony! A more mature version of Anthony, looking even more ruggedly handsome and Heathcliff-like than I remembered. With that smile that always melted my stomach, he said in a cod French accent, "Madamoiselle Duncan? I 'ave a delivery poor voo." He paused while I stared at him like an exhibit in Madame Tussaud's. Finally, he said, "Well, can I come in, or not?"

Still stunned at the amazing turn of events I stepped back. He brushed past me, and found the kitchen, running water into the sink for the flowers. I sank onto the sofa, staring at his back in disbelief. He returned and sat at the opposite end of the sofa to me. "Hi Mel. You look great."

I blinked. "You look...amazing. How the hell did you find me?"

He grinned. "Let's just say une petite oiseau told me." Of course -- Jules! My lovely, adorable friend Jules. Anthony continued. "Here's the thing. My dad's company has offices all over the place, and they've offered me a position in their Paris branch. I need to let them know whether or not I want it. Anyway, how are you doing?"

I lied that I was doing well, and we chatted for a few minutes. Anthony had graduated with a First with Honours in English and French; no wonder a major multi-national was keen to have him. As I gazed at his beautiful face, and heard his gentle, melodious voice, my stomach turned itself in knots and my pulse raced. Gradually, Anthony eased his way along the sofa, until we were inches apart. I could feel the heat of his body. He reached out and took one of my hands in his. Softly, he said, "The thing is Mel, I think -- I hope -- I have a wonderful opportunity here in Paris, and I need to know whether you think I should take it."

I swallowed. I could hardly breathe. I tried to speak, but my voice emerged as a squeak. Anthony smiled. I cleared my throat and, my voice little more than a whisper, I said, "Take it -- please."

His smile broadening, Anthony pulled me into his arms. Just before we kissed, he murmured, "I knew four years of celibacy was worth it."

Later, as I lay naked in my bed, wrapped in my lover's arms, my pussy glowing from the three times we'd made love in barely two hours, he kissed the top of my head and whispered, "I told you I'd come back for you. I'm never going to let you get away from me again." I snuggled more firmly into his chest, reflecting that I had never been so ecstatically happy in all my life.