Student and Teacher Ch. 09

After the Christmas break, it was time to think of what the new semester would be like.

"Say, Iris," Damon said enthusiastically one Sunday morning after breakfast, "how'd you like it if I were in your class?" He was referring to a class on the Post-Civil War South that Iris was going to teach.

She blanched at the idea. "Oh, Damon, please don't!"

"Why not?"

"Damon, do I have to spell it out for you? I really don't think I could focus on anything having you there in class. It would just be too risky."

"Oh, all right," he said sulkily. "But I think you're making too much of nothing." Then, after a pause: "I hope I can still work with you on my senior thesis next school year."

"Well, of course. That's a one-on-one thing, so there shouldn't be any problem."

"Yes," he said with a chuckle, "I guess I'm pretty good one-on-one."

Iris didn't think that comment was worth a response. Damon, for his part, decided to take a class on the Origins of World War I, taught by Iris's colleague, Betty Harper. Betty had been developing strong suspicions of the true nature of Iris's relationship with Damon, but in the absence of any explicit admission by her friend she could only rely on hints and guesswork.

A little later, as the three of them—Damon, Brad, and Iris—were lounging around, Damon said:

"Man, our team is really in the doldrums. We're all itching for the start of the season, but that won't happen for another two months."

"So you and the guys aren't doing much of anything?" Iris said, without much interest.

"Well, we try, but it gets boring just working out in the gym. Pretty hard to get revved up about baseball when it's snowing outside."

It wasn't actually snowing right then, but there was a fair amount of snow on the ground, causing Damon to brood in frustration.

Then he perked up. "Hey, Iris! Here's something I've been thinking about for a while."

"Yes?" she said, hardly looking up from the scholarly journal she was reading.

"How about if some of the guys came over this Saturday?"

"Sure, why not?"

"No, I mean," Damon said with sudden intensity, "we'd like you to be there."

Iris looked up, puzzled. "What for?"

"You can guess, can't you?" Damon said with a smile.

Iris gazed at him blankly for several moments. Then she let out a short laugh. "Damon, don't be silly."

"No, I mean it! You'd really like these guys! They're all super-nice—real respectful of women. They'd love to get to know you better."

"I'm sure they would," she said acidly. Then, alarmed: "Damon, you haven't told them about us, have you?" Her glance took in Brad, who was sitting in a stunned silence looking back and forth between the two others.

"No, no, of course not," Damon said. "You know I wouldn't do that. But I think you'd have a great time with them. I've been thinking it would help you to get a little more experience with different types of guys."

"And how," she said in a tight voice, "would that help me?"

"I just think it would. Anyway, you've said yourself that you need to make for lost time—all that time that you weren't—"

"Damon, that's enough," she said sharply. "You and Brad give me plenty of 'experience.' In fact, you guys are wearing me out a bit."

"Oh, nonsense! You look great! I've never seen you with rosier cheeks and a lighter step. Admit it now—don't you feel a lot better than before Brad and I came along?"

Iris had turned crimson. "Maybe," she said cautiously. "You—you've both been very good to me."

"Well, I think you can help these other guys as well!" he concluded triumphantly.

She licked her lips nervously. "How many are we talking about?"

"Oh," he said casually, "I figured maybe six or seven. Well, that would be eight or nine including Brad and me."

Now the color fled from her face. She shook her head, saying, "I can't do that many at once."

"It wouldn't be at once," he said, as if patiently explaining a problem in arithmetic to a child. "It would be one after the other. Maybe after a while there might be two at a time. You like that with us, don't you?"

Iris couldn't bring herself to respond to that.

"You could try three at a time," Brad suddenly said, frowning in deep concentration. "That's possible, isn't it?"

"That might take a bit of effort," Damon said judiciously, "but I figure Iris could handle it."

"Stop it, you guys. This is getting ridiculous."

"Oh, come on, Iris! Be a sport! It'll be fun."

"Fun for whom, exactly?"

"Everyone! I guarantee you they'd treat you like the lady that you are. They're all real nice and courteous and gentlemanly. I think one of the guys I'm thinking about may be a virgin."

"A virgin?" Iris burst out. "Are you kidding me?"

"What's so unusual about that?" Damon said. "It wasn't so long ago that—" And he gave a pointed look at Brad, who flushed and looked away.

"Damon—" Iris began.

"Just try it, okay? I really think you'll have a wonderful time."

There was a huge and pregnant pause. It seemed as if time had stopped. Both of the young men were staring fixedly at the older woman they loved and cherished so deeply, hoping for a positive answer. Iris, for her part, gazed just as fixedly at her two lovers, realizing how much she herself cherished them for bringing her out of her unwanted celibacy.

At last she said in a small voice, "All right."

"That's great!" Damon thundered. "It'll be fabulous, I promise!"

"No more than eight, okay?" she said.

"Sure! Anything you say, ma'am!"

*

The guys started to come to the house around 1 p.m. on that Saturday. A number of them were not entirely convinced that anything was really going to happen: over the years Damon had developed a reputation as something of a prankster, and several refused to believe that what he had described was truly in the cards. But as the six guys—diverse in race, ethnicity, physique, and temperament—showed up, they were all fired by the old adage, "Hope springs eternal."

Damon and Brad greeted their teammates enthusiastically, and pretty soon they were all gathered in the living room. They weren't saying much of anything, waiting for Damon to take the lead—either to initiate events or to tell them that the whole thing was just a gag. But instead, he strode to the bottom of the staircase and called up, "Hey, Iris, you wanna come down?"

It was some moments before she obeyed, but when she did so and entered the living room, all the guys fell silent as they took in the sight.

Iris was wearing nothing but a light and partially transparent robe, which she held close to her body—an act that had the unintended effect of displaying her succulent curves to all her male guests. Some of the guys' mouths dropped, while others' eyes widened in appreciation of such a spectacle of mature female beauty. No one said a word.

"Hi, guys," Iris said shyly, unable to look any of them in the face.

"This is Iris," Damon said unnecessarily, extending a hand as if he were the emcee of a swimsuit contest.

A few of the men muttered something unintelligible, but most remained silent.

Damon rolled his eyes at the cluelessness of his friends. "Come on, guys, introduce yourselves. We're all civilized people here."

It took some time for the first guy to step forward. Extending a hand, he said, "I'm Tony Gonzalez, left fielder." He was a fine, strapping Hispanic, almost six feet tall and with a sculpted physique.

Iris took his hand with a slight nod.

Now the others got into the act.

"Hi, ma'am," the next one said. "André Walker, third baseman." He was African American, his chocolate-colored complexion causing Iris's eyes to shine reminiscently.

"Jimmy Garofalo, catcher," the next one said. He was a short, stocky guy of Irish ancestry.

"Michael Washington, pitcher." An African American, darker than André and of slender but muscular build.

"Daniel Cotherman, second baseman." A tall, sleek white guy with an honest face and untidy hair.

"Kevin Yu, shortstop." A slim, angular man of Chinese ancestry.

Iris shook hands with each of them, and then said to Damon, "So . . . how's this going to work?"

"We've already talked about that," he said. "At the start, each of the guys will get fifteen minutes with you, alone. After that, if anyone wants a second round, we could do other things—you know, the things we talked about before." Two at a time—or three at a time.

"That's going to get pretty strenuous," Iris said nervously.

"I'm sure you'll manage," Damon said encouragingly. "But if at any time you want to stop, we'll stop. Isn't that right, guys?"

He looked around to the gathered crowd, and they all nodded.

"Is that okay with you, Iris?" he said.

"Yes, I guess so," she muttered.

"Great."

He now led her away from the others as if to speak to her privately. "Listen, darling, this is all going to be fine. I've made it damn clear to the guys that they gotta treat you with the utmost respect. No rough stuff, you know what I mean? If any of the guys wants to do something you don't want to do, you just say so, okay? But I hope"—he said with a twinkle in his eyes—"that you'll be accommodating."

"I'll do my best."

In a whisper he said, "I think some of the guys would like—you know, rear entry. Is that okay with you?"

"Yes, of course."

"You'd better lube yourself up beforehand."

"Fine." Then, after a pause: "Do you have any idea of what, um, their things are like?"

Damon understood at once. "None of them are bigger than Brad, okay? In fact, I think only one or two are even my size."

"Well, that's a relief."

And with that, Iris turned on her heel and went upstairs.

Damon turned back to the assembled guests. "André," he said, "why don't you be first? It's the first door on the left on the second floor."

None of the others questioned why he had been chosen, figuring they'd all get their chance before long. He nodded briefly and stalked up the stairs.

When he opened the door of the bedroom, he saw that Iris had doffed the robe and was standing, a little uncertainly, naked in the middle of the room.

His mouth dropped as he said, "Omigod, ma'am, you're so beautiful."

"Thank you, André."

She waited for him to undress, and it didn't take him long. As she gazed at his magnificent physique, she couldn't help thinking of the man who had taken her virginity so many years ago. But she put that out of her mind as she instinctively fell to her knees and took his cock in her mouth.

André enjoyed the sensation, but was keen on getting to the main event. He gently lifted Iris up from the floor, wrapped her in his arms, and gave her a warm kiss on the mouth. She enjoyed the feel of his soft lips against hers, and allowed herself to be led to the bed, where she fell onto her back, legs splayed. André drank in the vision of this gorgeous woman revealing herself, and he mounted her without delay.

He was determined to relish every moment of his fifteen minutes, and even though he had come thunderously after about ten minutes, he remained in her for the remaining five, until a discreet knock on the door by Damon reminded him that his time was up.

Kevin Yu was next. Slender as he was, he was wiry and muscular, and his off-white complexion was a nice contrast to Iris's paleness. For several minutes he didn't do anything but hold her close in his arms, relishing the feel of their naked bodies in contact from head to toe. Then, rather shyly, he whispered in her ear:

"Ma'am, could I go in . . . the back way?"

"Of course," Iris said matter-of-factly. "How would you like me? On hands and knees?"

Kevin nodded, and Iris got into position on the bed. He gazed reverently at her back and bottom—those parts of the female anatomy he liked better than all others. His member was a little smaller than Damon's, and he seemed a bit hesitant in entering her, even though the lubricated opening was directly in front of him.

"Go on in, dear," she said encouragingly.

With that, Kevin thrust his cock into her, gasping at the unusual sensation. He had never done this before, and he had fantasized about it more times than he cared to think about. As his organ disappeared into her anus, he seized her hips to steady himself as he pumped, also gazing at the sight of his own cock entering and almost exiting that forbidden orifice. At times he reached down to grasp Iris's exuberant breasts, hanging down like ripe fruit from her chest. It took only minutes for him to come.

In the time left for him, he had Iris lie flat on her back while he rested his head between those magnificent breasts. He couldn't remember when he had been happier.

When Daniel Cotherman came into the room, Iris sensed at once that here was a man not at all experienced with women. When he undressed, he looked at his member—hardening by the minute and even quivering with anticipation—with a mixture of pride and embarrassment, as if he had never exposed it to the gaze of a female. Mutely he begged her to take it in her mouth, and she complied. As she sucked on it—it was just a bit longer than Damon's but smaller than Brad's—she wondered whether, in his excitement, he might come in her mouth. But he managed to restrain himself.

He wanted a fairly orthodox copulation, and as she got into position on her back he remained standing, looking down at her as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

She looked back at him and said gently, "You haven't done this before, have you?"

He just shook his head absently.

Knowing how sensitive he must be about his virginity, she smiled and extended her arms to him welcomingly. She thought he might just plunge into her on the spot, but instead he lay down with his head on her breasts, seizing them with both hands and pressing them against his cheeks, whimpering slightly as he did so. Only after some minutes did he slide up her body and get into position.

It was not entirely unexpected that he had trouble finding the magical spot where his cock had to go, so she quietly took it in her hand and directed it to the opening.

Like Kevin, he gasped as he entered her, his eyes getting wide with surprise and pleasure. He went in a little fast, causing Iris some discomfort, but she suppressed any cries so that Daniel wouldn't feel bad. In seconds he was in her up to the hilt, and he had wrapped his arms around her shoulders as he pumped her hard, his face buried in the crook of her neck. As he got into a nice rhythm, he sometimes plastered wet kisses on Iris's mouth, cheeks, and neck.

She wasn't surprised that he couldn't last more than five minutes, and his groan of ecstasy as he shot his seed into her was mingled with a cry of frustration that the incredible sensation was over.

As he slipped out of her, he rolled over and just gazed at the ceiling for a while, absorbing the transcendent experience of this first intimate union with a woman. Then he looked over at her and said ingenuously:

"Ma'am . . . did you come?"

Iris didn't think that even a white lie at this moment would serve any purpose, so she said, "No, dear. Women usually don't come from intercourse. But I was close, and I really liked having you in me."

"Can I—?" he said eagerly.

"There's no need, dear."

"But I want to!" he cried.

Iris smiled beneficently upon him. "All right."

She sensed that he needed a little instruction on pleasuring a female, so she explained by word and gesture what had to be done. He was a quick learner, and as he stroked her with fingers that quickly became moist—from her juices, his own, and those of the men who had preceded him—she was surprised at how deft he was. Within minutes she was arching her back as an explosive climax shuddered through her.

His eyes were fixed on her as she gradually came down from her sexual high. Then he said fervently, "That was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

She stroked his cheek tenderly. "That's very sweet of you, dear."

Tony, Jimmy, and Michael followed as Daniel reluctantly left the room. Tony wanted Iris to kneel in front of him and suck him so that he would come in her mouth. Jimmy lay flat on his back on the bed and had Iris ride him, peering raptly at her breasts as she jounced up and down on his cock. And Michael wanted rear entry, having Iris lie on her stomach while he draped his body over hers.

Not to be denied, Damon and Brad took their turns, delighting in the familiarity of copulating with the woman they loved.

By this time Iris was getting a little tired, and Damon decreed that there should be a break in the action. Iris staggered over to the bathroom to wash herself off a bit, then took a brief nap. Damon let her rest for about twenty minutes, then came in, kneeled down next to the bed, and said quietly in her ear:

"Iris, darling, are you ready for a second round?"

She turned her head sleepily in his direction. "I guess so."

He looked away, abashed. "Um, some of the guys want to do you two at a time. Is that okay?"

"Sure, that would be fine."

He impulsively kissed her on the cheek. "You're the best, Iris!"

André and Michael were first, the latter having recovered surprisingly quickly from his earlier encounter with her. They arranged themselves on either side of Iris, lying on their sides; Michael entered her pussy while André went into her bottom. The result, as they themselves reflected later, was a kind of human Oreo cookie, and the sight of this scrumptious white woman sandwiched between their rich brown bodies was almost more than they could endure. While Michael fixed his lips on hers, André reached around and took hold of her breasts as he pummeled her backside. It wasn't clear who came first, but it seemed that André's climax preceded Michael's by a split second. Iris—for whom the sensation of two men coming in her at once was still something of a novelty—gloried in her role as a strong, desirable female able to inspire such devotion in the opposite sex.

It was when Tony and Kevin engaged in double penetration—Kevin lying on his back and entering Iris's pussy while Tony kneeled over her and entered her anus—that Damon, curious to know how this second round was going, took in the sight. He had of course done this several times with Iris and Brad, but as a spectator instead of a participant it was a totally new experience. He felt enormous pride at how his beloved was satisfying all these men with apparent effortlessness, although he well knew that she was hardly passive in the proceedings.

As he witnessed the two men thrusting deep into her orifices, he approached the trio quietly, until he was at the very edge of the bed. Iris's head was nestled in Kevin's shoulder, and he took it with the utmost gentleness in both hands and raised it up. She looked up at him with surprise, then smiled, as if to say: Am I doing well? Am I making your friends happy?

Such a flood of love and devotion filled him that he became hard in seconds. He brought his cock up to her lips, and she obediently opened her mouth and took him in, a little more than halfway. Still holding her head with both hands, he began thrusting, watching his cock vanish almost to the root into her mouth, then drawing it out until he almost pulled out. But her red lips clung eagerly to the tip, and he thrust again into her.

Damon was keenly watching Tony and Kevin as they continued their own thrusts. It was almost as if all three of them had secretly synchronized their actions, for as Tony began to come in Iris's bottom, so did Kevin and Damon flood her pussy and mouth with their discharge. Iris's eyes widened as she took in the extraordinary sensation.

When they were finished and had pulled out of her, Damon kneeled down and gazed warmly at her, now lying flat on her back.