Student and Teacher Ch. 05

But Julia's eyes popped open at his request. She made a little face and shook her head almost imperceptibly.

"You don't want to do that?" he said, now truly incredulous. Was she some kind of germophobe?

"It's not . . . I don't know," she said haltingly.

He looked at her severely and said decisively, "Put your tongue in my mouth."

She let out a whimper of complaint, but after a moment or two of hesitation she did bring her slim pink tongue out of her mouth and place it fractionally between Damon's lips. That was enough for Damon, who sucked on it while at the same time forcing his own tongue into hers. For a time she seemed keen on trying to avoid contact, but eventually she allowed her tongue to rest on his, then actually moved it around a little as if enjoying the sensation.

In fact, it quickly became clear that she did enjoy the sensation, for Damon felt those tremors coursing through her body and then that choking sound, which seemed to proceed directly from her throat to his. He paused in his thrusting, since he wanted her to enjoy her orgasm without distraction; but the tightening of the walls of her vagina that accompanied her climax had the effect of stimulating him to his own culmination, and he shot his seed deep into her with grunts of his own, which he tried to muffle by burying his face in her shoulder.

As both their paroxysms subsided, he sensed that she was uncomfortable with his weight on her, so he rolled off and flopped over to the other side of the bed.

He peeked over to see her reaction to what had just happened. At first she just gazed sightlessly at the ceiling. Then, after a quick and alarmed glance at him, she burst into tears.

Damon had a sinking feeling something like this might happen. As Julia frantically sought to cover herself, once again embarrassed at her nudity—not to mention the thick fluid leaking out of her crevice—she almost wailed to the heavens in an ecstasy of horror, remorse, and shame. And Damon knew exactly why.

There are some women, he reflected sententiously, who are so married that they can't imagine having sex with anyone except their husbands—even a husband so disreputable as this Daniel person. So I'm in a bit of a pickle. What do I do now?

She had turned away from him, as if to blot out the very sight of him. He could hear her muttering, "Oh, God! I'm no better than him!"

He didn't think that trying to comfort her would be of much use. So he tentatively approached her and said, "Would you like me to leave?"

She craned her neck around to look at him. Her face was the very picture of sorrow and misery. But to his surprise she said in a small voice, "No."

"Are you sure? I can go if you want me to."

Julia used the bedsheet to wipe the tears from her face. "I—I'm just being silly. You can stay for a bit."

That was encouraging, although he still doubted whether she wanted him to lie down next to her all night.

"You shouldn't think badly of yourself," he said. "It's not your fault that you're separated. If he cheated on you the way you've said, he doesn't deserve you."

She gave him a broken smile and slowly let him embrace her. She seemed to like the feel of his warm, naked skin against hers—and he certainly did.

"It's just . . ." she began. "Two wrongs don't make a right, you know."

"You think what we did was wrong?"

"I—I don't know."

"I just wanted to make you happy."

She looked up at him and extended a hand to stroke his face. "You're a really sweet guy, Damon. I'm sure your intentions are good. But—but I haven't slept with a man other than my husband in more than twenty years, and it's just freaking me out a little."

"You're too fine a woman to seal yourself off from love."

She smiled wryly. "Love and sex are two different things."

"I know that—but one leads to the other, maybe in both directions."

"Maybe."

"Anyway, there's no need to deny yourself when he's, um, enjoying—"

She let out a derisive laugh. "I wonder if he is! He broke up with that silly woman."

"What!" Damon said, thunderstruck.

"That's right," Julia said. "They shacked up together after I kicked him out of this house, and they lasted about a month. I guess having an affair, with all the thrill of the forbidden that goes with it, was a lot more exciting than actually working on having a relationship."

"How do you know all this?"

"Oh, a mutual friend told me. I had to say I laughed my head off."

"So he's all by himself?"

"Yup," she said with immense satisfaction.

"But—but—" He couldn't go on.

She looked up at him again, but this time her expression was one of appalled outrage. "Are you saying that—that I should take him back? Is that what you're telling me to do?"

"I'm not telling you to do anything. It just seems to me—"

"There's no way I'll ever let that cheating bastard back into my life! He blew his chance with me!"

"But Julia, dear," Damon said, doing his usual massage of her back, shoulders, and bottom, as he felt her getting tight and angry, "you're not seeing other people, are you?"

"No," she said decisively.

"Then—"

"It's a little too early for that. God, it's only been six months! I'm just not ready to get back into the dating game yet. I'm not sure I'll ever be. I don't know that I can trust any man again after what Daniel did to me!"

"I understand that. But it just seems to me that you're only making yourself miserable by shutting yourself off from everyone. It's not healthy."

"I'm fine," she said defiantly. "Anyway, I didn't have you come here for marital advice." The unspoken words hung in the air: I just wanted you to fuck me so I could forget about everything.

The funny thing was that this tense discussion had the bizarre effect of causing Damon to revive. Maybe it wasn't the discussion but rather the contact with Julia's luscious body, but the result was the same. It was only now that she noticed his swelling member poking into her abdomen, and she looked at him in wonderment.

"You—you want more?"

"I was hoping you might indulge me."

"Wh-what would you like?"

He very much doubted that she would be much inclined for rear action, so he said: "Would you like to ride me?"

She made a face. "I—I feel so exposed that way."

"How about doggie style?"

"Eew! I feel like an animal when I do that."

He gave her a look of mild exasperation. Surely it's not the tried and true missionary position again?

She read his expression at once. "Look, I'm sorry, I'm just not very creative when it comes to—to things like this." Then, almost to herself: "Daniel wanted to try all sorts of things too."

But he had heard. "And you didn't want to?" he said mildly.

Even so, she exploded. "I know what you're going to say! You think I'm some sort of prude who doesn't really like sex! But I'm not going to behave like a whore, and that's final!"

Damon really wasn't prepared for this outburst, and he remained in a stunned silence.

Julia's reaction was even stranger. Her face, white with anger, suddenly crumpled into wretched misery, and her tears flowed once more as she laid her head against Damon's chest like a little girl seeking solace from a beloved father.

He had the good sense to let her crying jag run its course, stroking the back of her head gently with one hand and her back with the other. After some minutes she regained a bit of her composure, but still seemed immensely unhappy.

"I know what you're thinking," she mumbled into his chest. "You think Daniel cheated on me because I didn't satisfy him in bed."

"I don't know why Daniel cheated on you," he said calmly. "It was probably way more than that. Midlife crisis, that sort of thing. Anyway, there is nothing you could have done that would have justified his behavior—nothing. Except if you cheated on him. A man who does that to his wife deserves to have his balls cut off."

She gave him a wan smile. "That'll be the day."

"But the point is," he went on, "that both of you now seem to be pretty sad. That ain't right. Maybe you can't ever forgive him; maybe you can never trust him again. But if you still love him, then maybe you should consider putting this horrible incident behind you."

When she said nothing, lapsing into a sulk, he said: "Do you still love him?"

"No!" she spat. "I hate him!"

"Is that right?" he said, remaining (to her mind) infuriatingly placid.

Once again her face crumpled up, and as she let out a sob she choked out, "Of course I love him! I've always loved him! I don't think I can love anyone else. Is that pathetic or what? So what am I supposed to do?"

Damon didn't want to make light of the situation; but as his erection was becoming almost painful, he said, "Well, one thing you can do is ride me. Come on—it's fun. No one's watching but us."

Her sobbing turned to a sputter of laughter, and she managed to say, "Oh, all right."

She slowly got into position, squatting over him and paying an intense attention to his cock as it lay, huge and stiff, on his belly. She actually grunted as she pulled it up into a horizontal position, then grunted again as she inserted it little by little into herself. As Damon watched it disappear into her wet cleft, Julia's eyes bugged out at the unexpected size of the thing. In this position—as he well knew but she didn't—penetration could be particularly deep, as it was difficult for the female to stop it from going all the way into her. She expelled a few more groans as she got used to the sensation, then began bouncing up and down on it as if on a seesaw. Even though her breaths came out a big ragged from the effort, a brave little smile spread over her face. Pretty soon she was really getting into it, seizing her own breasts in her hands and squeezing them while Damon reached behind her and gave her bottom some good squeezing.

Their climaxes were almost simultaneous as they both let out moans of pleasure; Julia's was something closer to a shriek. It had been ages since she had received two emissions from a man in a single session, and she relished the warmth and wetness of his discharge as it flooded her vagina.

She fell back on top of him, exhausted, as he received her with weary but open arms.

"Did you like that?" he said, huffing and puffing.

"Yeah," she said, sounding about as satisfied as a cat rolling around in catnip.

"How about the other things we've done?"

"Like what?"

"Like sucking my cock, and being licked, and French kissing?"

"They were—they were nice. I could get used to them." She snuggled closer to him to emphasize the point.

"Glad to hear it. What about swallowing?"

"Come, you mean?" She made a face. "Oh, God, I haven't done that in ages. Don't know that I like it."

"That's okay. A lot of women don't."

"I can learn new tricks, you know!" she said a bit resentfully.

"I'm sure you can." He paused meaningfully. "I don't suppose . . ."

"You don't suppose what?" she said, her voice heavy with dread.

"I guess you could call it rear entry."

She lay in silence for some seconds, and Damon wondered if, incredibly, she hadn't heard him. Then she slowly raised herself up, resting her arms on his chest, looked him in the face, and said in a low and intense voice: "Oh, you horrible pervert! I will never, ever let a man do that to me!"

"Why?" he asked ingenuously.

"Because it's vile and disgusting!"

"Ma'am, I think that's all in the eye of the beholder, don't you think?"

"Ooooh!" she cried in an agony of frustration, as if Damon had irrationally denied the accuracy of the multiplication table. "If you don't understand, I don't think there's any hope for you."

"A lot of girls—and women—like it."

"I've heard that young women are doing it—probably being forced to by their men," she said acidly. Then she paused, and her eyes grew big with an appalled realization. "You do it to Iris, don't you?"

"Yes."

She suddenly rolled off of him, grabbing her stomach as if it were in pain. "Omigod!"

"She likes it," Damon said quietly.

"She only pretends to like it to keep you coming back to her bed!"

Damon was wounded. "That's not very nice, ma'am. Maybe you should ask her."

"I think I'll do that." She paused again, and now she sounded like a little girl complaining about her parents' unreasonable demands to clean up her room. "Doesn't it hurt?"

"Well, yes, ma'am, the first time probably will hurt. Maybe the first couple times."

"Gee, that sounds like fun!"

"Lube helps."

"What lube?"

"I like cold cream."

She let out a bray of derisive laugher. "You wanna put cold cream in my butt?"

"It really makes a difference, ma'am."

She flipped back on top of him and peered intently into his face. "You really want to do that to me?"

"Only if you want to."

Her face was now a scowl of bafflement and outrage, as if he had calmly suggested that she should let him stick a needle into her flesh just for the fun of it.

"Your—your thing is too big."

"I won't go in all the way."

"Thank heaven for small mercies!"

"We don't have to do it."

"But you're going to be mighty disappointed if we don't."

"No, ma'am. It's entirely up to you."

His unflappable demeanor was becoming almost too much to bear. She rolled off of him again and said, "Oh, all right—go ahead."

"You really want to?"

"Yes!"

"You don't sound like it."

"Just get the stuff, okay? It's in the medicine chest in the bathroom."

Damon did as he was ordered. When he came back, he faced Julia's predictable horror at his offer to apply the stuff himself. As she flopped onto her stomach, he reflected that, no matter how old a woman was while undergoing this procedure, she always looked like a little girl unhappily receiving a suppository from a not so trusted doctor. But she kept her complaints largely to herself as he did the job. Since she so disliked the doggie-style position, he was happy to let her remain flat while he climbed on top of her. As the tip of his member probed the orifice, she let out a little whimper of complaint, but suppressed it as best she could (I'm not a coward or a weakling!); but as he entered her inch by inch, she expelled a huge gasp that concluded in a pitiable whine, and Damon stopped about halfway in, figuring that was all she could manage for now.

His pumping was slow and gentle, and she seemed to get over her initial loathing of the act, especially when Damon wrapped his arms around her and seized her breasts while nuzzling her neck and shoulders. Grunts were being forced out of her in rhythm with his thrusts, and he felt the need to mitigate her pain by sliding a hand down her stomach and belly and down to her sex, where he enhanced its warm wetness by tender strokes. Her grunts were now transformed into little moans that he hoped signified at least some modicum of pleasure; and he became sure of it when her patented shudder coursed all through her and she gave out her usual choking cry signifying her orgasm—one that she clearly did not expect, if her wide eyes and open mouth were any guide. He paused in his thrusts to let her enjoy her climax, then finished his own business with a thunderous climax of his own.

"Was that okay?" he said, after he had pulled out.

"Mmmm," was all she replied, a little smile on her face.

"I'm glad," he said, hastening to the bathroom to do his usual ablutions.

By the time he came back, she seemed to be fast asleep.

When he awoke, he found the bed empty. He was a bit disappointed, as he was hoping for a bit of early-morning cuddling; but then he heard—and smelled—activity in the kitchen, and he lay back in delighted surprise.

Man, what is it with these women who want to make me breakfast?

As he padded over to the kitchen, wearing nothing but his underwear, he saw Julia fully dressed, a crisp white apron over her skirt and blouse. She was paying close attention to a heaping mound of scrambled eggs in one skillet and a batch of sausage links in another, while some toast was heating up in the toaster. As she heard his presence, she turned around, gave him a smirking once-over at his near-nakedness, and said, "Sit down—this is almost ready."

He wished he could have stayed a bit after the thoroughly satisfying breakfast, but he had a ten o'clock class and had to skedaddle. But he was gratified by the big hug and kiss that Julia gave him as he departed.

*

Damon saw Julia several more times, expanding the repertoire of their bedroom antics each time. But then he heard that she had made tentative offers to her husband for a reconciliation, and before long it appeared that they were back together. The two of them actually came over to Iris's house for dinner one night, Daniel expressing the expected surprise at the young man occupying such a prominent place in Iris's household. Damon could tell that the couple was by no means friction-free, but they seemed to be getting along well enough.

"You seem to be something of a marriage counselor," Iris said tartly as they snuggled in bed that night.

"Oh, I did what I could," he said modestly. "She's a wonderful lady—and I hope that wayward husband appreciates her better now."