Teacher's Pet Ch. 02

The rest of the crew followed suit immediately and Jeff, the tallest, lankiest and lily-whitest of the crew, made to shut the cabin door. I looked out the back of the big cruiser and saw that two "neighbors," a couple of rough-looking heavily tattooed "biker" types, had swum over and joined us. They were now standing, staring at the four nude men and me.

I had a decision to make. I looked at Tyler, who stared back at me evenly, no hint of approval or condemnation. Honestly, if he'd shown the least hesitation, I would have backed down, put my top back on, and left the boat. The mere lead-up to a gang bang would have been enough of a thrill to set me on edge for hours and make our sex together nuclear. I knew that.

"Don't close the door." I heard myself say, "It'll just get too hot." Each of the four nude men now looked at me with renewed hunger. The verdict, indeed, the sexual meal, had just been delivered, they were about to feast, and they knew it. The two tattooed men on the transom heard the verdict as well. At a minimum they'd have the best floorshow they'd ever seen, and if they got really lucky, they would get a "piece" of the action as well. My heart in my throat, I stood up on my knees on the mattress and slowly reached for the strings tying the right side of my bikini bottom. Looking Gene in the eye, I pulled one of the strings slowly and seductively outward until the knot gave way and the right side of the bikini bottom fell away too. The men could now see nearly all my right ass-cheek and my right hip.

I knew just what I was going to do once I was fully naked. I was going to do a real floor show. I was going to make the rest of the crew and Tyler watch me take that fat meaty cock in my hand and run my tongue up and down it. I had a long tongue, Tyler called it a "Gene Simmons" tongue. I would run the tip of it under his glans and if I were lucky, he'd have a little dribble of pre-cum on the tip that I could lick and make a streamer of so that all the other boys could see it. Then I'd go down on him, at least as far as I could go given how thick the damned thing was. The rest of them would want to be on me in seconds. All of them, except Tyler, were already strumming their cocks and were hard and ready.

I smiled and moved my right hand to the left bikini tie, drawing out the process of undoing the knot. It must have taken me ten seconds to pull the simple cord, I would have taken more if I could. I heard the breathing in the cabin grow quicker and deepen. The boys were entering rutting season, and I was the doe. The bikini unwound completely, and I felt the air on my ass crack and pussy. I pulled the bikini away, leaving myself completely nude, and bent down at the waist towards Gene. This would expose to the crew, the two tatoos, and anyone in the cove with a good enough view or binoculars, my muscular thighs, ass and shaved pussy. I could feel the caress of the air on me, and a little dribble of moisture run down my quim to my clit and onto the bedsheet.

"So, from the look of things," I said nodding to the embedded eyebolts, "you've tried out the mattress," but I haven't. I don't think you can really put something like this to the test without working it over a little, don't you?" Gene knew an invitation when he heard it. He looked briefly at Tyler then situated himself in front of me on the big bed, putting one leg on the right of my now nude body, the other on the left, a not very subtle signal that he wanted me to go down on him.

I moved towards him and reached out with my hands to take him into my mouth. Just then I felt a pat from Tyler on my right rump.

"I've got to go," he said.

"Whaaa??" I said not comprehending, my mind addled by lust, beer and dope.

"I've got to go. I can't stay for this. I'm not saying you can't do it, or shouldn't do it, but I don't want to be part of it. I've got to go."

With that he stood up to leave. Unlike the others, his cock was shriveled into a normal size. It had never inflated an ounce.

"Wait, don't go. PLEASE! DON'T GO. STAY. PLEASE, PLEEEASE!!" I shouted.

Tyler stopped only momentarily, then kissed me on the forehead and said "I've got to go. I can't watch this."

"NOOO, NO, NO, I don't want you to leave, you can't leave, No, No No!"

"Landrie! LANDRIE!!!" I heard my mom shout as she shook my knee. "You're having a bad dream honey! It's okay. It's just a dream." I grogged awake and looked out the car window. All I saw was the hot parched Nevada desert pass by. I put my hand to my head and full recall came back. My parents, little sister and I were all heading to Stanford to drop me off. I had fallen asleep and dreamt. Lord! Had I been moaning like I was in heat? I looked over at my sister Susie, who winked at me. Oh shit! I had been moaning, or maybe my pelvis had been moving against dreamt-of fingers and cocks. At least mom and dad didn't seem to have noticed. And fuck Susie anyway, little bitch had been rummaging through my drawers and stealing my porn haul from uncle Eddie's barn for weeks now. It was a miracle I was able to pull the thing with Tyler off without her learning of it.

Susie leaned over, cupped her hands and whispered "who were you fucking in your dream? It sounded like you were getting it pretty good. Just one guy? Or a bunch?" She leaned back and gave her I've got one on you smile.

I leaned over, cupped my hands to her ears and whispered, "eleven point five hours and I'm rid of you, forever."

Susie feigned hurt by quivering her big lower lip then laughed at me. I shot her the bird.

I was forced to take stock. Dad had decided that we needed to travel US 50, the "Loneliest Road in America" according to Life Magazine in order to get to Palo Alto. "Denver, Fort Collins, Salt Lake City, Orem, Provo, Delta, Ely, Eureka, then on from there! Piece of cake!" he'd said enthusiastically. My dad said and did everything enthusiastically, even his choices leading to disasters like this one. Life Magazine wasn't wrong. But it wasn't 1986 and the road had gone from lonely to desolate, desperate, and utterly depressing.

I turned away to think through the dream. It was about all I could do other than listen to music or watch something I'd already loaded. Nothing streamed this far away from civilization. I put on some Brahms to calm me down and began thinking through it bit by bit. I probably had one of the worst cases of obsessive-compulsive disorder in history. How else does one go 12 years without missing a day of school and never score a "B?" And why else analyze an erotic dream instead of simply appreciating it? My thong was soaked, it had been a great dream until it ended badly, so good that it was a miracle that I hadn't scented up the whole Suburban. Well, make it useful, I thought.

I knew what had triggered the dream. When Tyler and I had our getaway, the sex had been off-the-charts good. Of course, it was my first real full-bore sex, so it might seem like it was off the charts good only because I had nothing to compare it to. But I felt sure that was wrong. I had a gigantic but still ill-defined emotional connection to Tyler. He was my teacher, counselor, coach, mentor, voyeur, prick tease, and now he was my lover. But for how long? Although we most likely would never end up together, we loved one other and we knew it.

When we'd made our weekend on lake Burton, Tyler and I had showered together, and that's where he'd introduced me to anal sex. For over thirty mind-bending minutes he had introduced me to anal, oiling us both up, penetrating me and generally talking filthy and spanking me around to push my lust into the stratosphere. He had talked me through the scenario I'd just dreamt:

"Would you like to show your pussy and tits off to an entire room full of men Landrie? To have them all watching us fuck like this, my cock in your tight little bunghole? All of them wanting you, jerking their cocks? If we'd pushed it, those guys today would have taken you into one of those cabin cruisers and stripped you and laid you down on the bed. They would have sucked your tits Landrie and played with your beautiful little pussy until you'd lost all control and they would have taken turns sucking on your clit then fucking you. And you know what? Everyone in the whole cove would know it because they'd see the boat jumping around and making waves as they screwed you. They wouldn't be satisfied just to cum in your pussy Landrie, they'd want to cum in your mouth. And you would let them, wouldn't you?"

I had answered "yes" to his questions again and again, and I had meant it, at least in that instant. Apparently, the little scenario was good enough for me not only to remember, but to become so deeply enough embedded in my psyche that it led to the dream.

Only, why did Tyler leave in my dream? He was the one who had suggested the whole thing in the first place. Thinking through it, I realized that Tyler was just putting up a brave front and what he really wanted was to have me for himself. He didn't want to share me and the very idea of sharing me was so repugnant that he couldn't bear to see it or think about it. And yet, what was it he'd said at the end "I'm not saying you shouldn't do it, or you can't do it. I just can't be part of it."

And that was the way of it in real life too. We had confessed that we loved one another, but in the next breath admitted that we shouldn't be exclusive. I was nineteen, he was thirty-two. I would be in Palo Alto, while he'd be back home in Kansas. I had almost no experience of any significance with men other than with Tyler. It would be both stupid and short-sighted to of me to commit to him before I knew anything at all about the world. He had agreed very enthusiastically with the decision to not tie each other down. I had subconsciously come to the realization that while Tyler knew I would have eye-opening life experiences with other guys, he would not be the least bit interested in hearing about them.

But his departure in the dream had left me panicked. Once again, this part of the dream wasn't that hard to interpret. Tyler was my "safe zone." When I was with him, I felt comfortable being daring. I had worn the "almost nothing bikini" as he'd nicknamed it on lake Burton, and I had done some teasing with it at the big restaurant on the lake and in the adults only cove. Reality had stopped with me sunbathing topless (but face down) and only momentarily standing up to retrieve my top from Tyler. We had both laughed at the gawking and occasional minor accidents the sight of me in the skimpy little bikini had caused. But now that he was out of the picture and I was alone, I didn't feel so bold. And that is exactly the way it was going to be at Stanford. Initially, at least, I would be alone and figuring out my sexuality all on my own, and that scared the hell out of me.