The Fifth One

His eyes glittered at me. "I know," he nodded, lip curled, his whole body gripping mine as the orgasm ripped me apart. "I'm glad."

"Good god." Heaving for breath, I curled back up into his chest, the lightning bolts flashing through my body. "I... fuck. I can't even think."

"Then don't." I felt his lips on my forehead once more, the lightning drifting up there now, too. "I'll hold you."

"You... you'll hold me." I couldn't believe this kid. No, this man, this amazingly skilled and patient man. I only had to open my eyes and look down his slim torso to see that glorious dick of his, stretched long and hard, wanting to fuck me. And here he was, telling me he'd hold me. "Can't I... I mean, I want to make you cum. So bad."

"You will. Some other time." He kissed me again, his lips on mine, tongue flicking. When he pulled back he was licking at his fingers, and it took me a moment to realize they were no longer inside me. That it was me he was licking. I pressed my face back to his chest. "Class starts in like half an hour, and I'd just fuck up your clothes. So let's not."

"But I want you to know, Noah. That I want to."

He said nothing until I looked up, scared of his silence, to see his warm lopsided smile. "I know, Ms LaPerla." He kissed me again. "Melissa. Look, let's spoon for a minute. Just to relax."

Spoon? Holy shit. "Okay." I was already basically curled up in his embrace; why not shift, lie down, stretch out? The couch was narrow enough that I'd have to be very close to him. "Um. Can you try not to mess up my dress more than it already is?"

"Already thought about it." He folded himself onto the couch, then stretched out nude, pushing himself into the back cushions. "Lie down."

"Just lie down? Okay." I had doubts, but he sounded like he knew what he was doing. Confident, not bossy. Just certain. But then, I reminded myself for the hundredth time, he'd done all this before. I flattened myself on the couch and began to back up, feeling my nipples strain as my tits pulled sideways in my bra, but then I gasped as he pulled my dress straight up my legs. "What are you doing?"

"Not messing up your dress," he explained, as though it was obvious, and the next thing I knew my bare ass was backing up against his hard-on, the heat of his dick wedging itself between my cheeks, over my thong. "Fuck. I love your ass."

"Mouth," but it came out as a purr. A tease, the sort of inside joke shared by... by couples. My heart lurched. Because you're his type, Ms LaPerla. I felt pride, though. "I don't mind if you touch it," I cooed, wiggling back. He was huge in my buttcrack. "I could get used to being spooned," I admitted softly, my orgasm still fading just a bit.

"Anytime you want to join me for my nap, Ms LaPerla, you're more than welcome." He settled a hand on my hip, possessive. Strong. "As long as you don't make me wear my clothes."

"Oh my god, Noah," I sighed, feeling his lean, muscular heat surrounding me, "don't be a dumbass. We're past me telling you to wear anything." I hesitated, then reached down to lace my fingers into his, dragging his hand up to cup my tits. I wanted him to touch me there. I hesitated, the room stilling slowly around me; it had been spinning during my orgasm. "Uh, do you want to come over to my house again?" He ran a slow thumb over my breast through my clothes, and I closed my eyes.

"Definitely." He kissed my neck. More lightning, trembling through me. "I have to work until about one in the morning, so not today."

"Tonight?" I said it too quickly, holding my breath. His thumb stalled, then resumed.

"Leave the door open. Maybe I can stop by." He sounded drowsy, like usual. Completely chilled. "I mean, if you're comfortable with that."

I nestled back against him, and that was enough of an answer. I'd sleep naked tonight. Because maybe he could stop by.

* * *

I was certain I wouldn't get to sleep that night.

I normally crash around ten, ten-thirty or so, and I'm sacked out before eleven. That night I trembled as I followed my usual routine, making sure I brushed my teeth with care and washed the sweat out of my armpits and off my pussy. It felt weird to do that, like I was tempting fate or something. I laid myself down, my mind on my unlocked slider, the sheets cool and slick against my nude skin. It had been years since I'd slept that way, and it felt strange. So I snapped my light off and punched at my pillow, convinced there was no way I'd actually be able to crash.

So, of course, I did.

Something woke me, the subtle kind of awakening, at nearly two a.m. I lay there, my eyes still muddy, trying to remember why I wasn't wearing anything, when I heard a rustle outside my door. For a moment, detached and half-dreaming, I wondered whether I was about to be murdered in my sleep, but then my brain lurched into a new gear as I remembered... something. Something I'd told someone, about leaving my door unlocked? I was still trying to recall all that when he slipped into my covers.

"Wha..." I stirred at last, beginning to twist around, but he was behind me immediately, all naked skin and those hard, angular joints of his, accompanied by the smell of fryer oil. But underneath it was that smell of him, the one that tickled my memory now, the scent of his crotch and his breath and his deodorant, a smell I was pleased to find that I remembered. "Noah," I sighed, my voice a breath.

"Hi, Ms LaPerla." He clasped me to him, stretching against my back, every part of our bodies in contact as we filled each other's space. His lips brushed my neck, arms twining securely around me. "Melissa."

"My god." I felt perfect in that moment, smooth and sexy and desired, his hand finding my nipple as he had yesterday, ringing the roughness of my dark areola. After what he and I had been through, I was not even a little bit surprised when his penis sprouted young and firm, nestled once more in the crack of my ass. "You came."

"Not yet." It was a whisper, and I could hear the smile behind it, and I grinned in the dark as I twisted around in his arms, my lips already offered to him. As he'd known they would be, and we kissed there with the starlight pouring through the window, our hands sweeping along each other's bodies: it was the first time I'd been naked with him, and as my mouth opened wider and wider I felt once more the long, thick snake of his penis pressing against me.

"You're so hard." Another kiss, my hand reaching down to touch him, to cup his balls as I already loved to do. "So hard for me." I was in awe, I think, amazed that I could do this to him.

"I am." I caught the glint of his eyes then, over a white smile. "Your fault, Melissa. This wouldn't happen if you weren't so sexy." I giggled, low and special, a sound for him alone, but then he was coaxing my leg up over his as we lay on our sides. I pressed against him as close as I could.

"Don't blame me." I hesitated, but why not be honest with him? I had his dick in my hand and he was already sending his fingers around my butt, seeking my pussy, and there was no reason at all to lie. "You're the one who seduces all his teachers."

"Yeah." His lips roved along my neck, my jaw, my mouth. "I guess I know what I want." He smiled again as I gasped, his fingers sliding up into me again. "But so did they."

"And so do I," I added simply, our fingers languid as they toyed with each others' genitals. "I've never even thought about sleeping with a student," I blurted, "but I've never had one like you before."

"I get that a lot." It was not a boast, just a fact. He had three fingers inside me now, and as I lifted my leg even higher up his body I could feel a fourth prodding at me. I caught my breath when I realized it wasn't a finger. "Feel that?"

"Yes." It came out as a whimper, his tip surging neatly between the swollen folds of my pussy, taunting me. I kissed him feverishly, my mouth wide open, my tongue battering his.

He nodded once I'd broken off, fixing me with his hard stare. "I want to put it in you." At last he was losing himself, his voice a little ragged.

"Oh my god." My hips humped forward with a life of their own, feeling the hard ridges of his dick saw across my vulnerable pussy lips. My whisper was harsh in his ear. "Get a condom. Now."

"No." He kept pushing the length of that thick rod of his between the achy edges of my slit, playing me like an instrument. Like some sort of violin or something. He only had to shift his hips just slightly, angling up instead of across, and he'd slide right in. "I want it raw."

I whimpered in frustration, torn between a mind that knew this guy had already gotten a woman pregnant and a body that craved exactly that for myself. "We can't." I almost sobbed it, my own hips hunching down to keep in touch with that splendid dick.

He drew his face back, surprised. "You're not on the pill?"

I felt terrible to admit it. "I am, but I'm just not careful about it."

He was silent a few moments, his penis still a hot, fat weight between my legs. "Get careful about it." It was the closest he'd ever come to sounding angry, and I leaned my head meekly back into his chest.

"I'm so sorry."

"I am too." Our bodies stayed in motion, my pussy juicing him steadily. Soon, I feared, my mind wouldn't matter anymore. "I want this, Melissa."

"I do too." I took a deep, shuddery breath. "Let me suck your cock again," I blurted, knowing that if I didn't get my vagina away from him, and soon, I'd simply start fucking him.

He smiled at me in the dark. "I'd never turn that down, Melissa." As it always did, my name in his mouth carried a secret magic, and I was giggling as I slipped beneath my covers and ran my face and hands down his body, the smell of him stronger under here, and my hand took hold of what had already become a pleasantly familiar penis.

Like my old boyfriends' had been. Like my ex-husband's had been.

Perhaps that thought should have given me pause; I still didn't think of this thing I was doing with Noah as anything like a relationship. In fact, I was careful not to think of this thing much at all.

I was hungry that night, wanting to make him cum, guilty because I'd refused him. I did not go slowly when I started blowing him, thinking to impress him with my enthusiasm, with the self-confidence I wasn't sure I had. He threw the sheet and blankets off me at some point, and I knew he was enjoying what he saw: me crouched over his penis, my butt high above the bed with the moonlight bathing my bare skin. He heard the smacking of my lips, and the gagging I no longer cared to hide; he felt my hands on his legs and balls, my finger diving beneath at one point to wedge itself into his asscrack. He smelled my pussy, I was sure, the juices glittering down my leg.

He began to thrust after a few minutes, his head prodding deeper and deeper into my throat each time, and I struggled to keep myself swallowing more or less continuously, determined to take him deep. Eyes shut tight, I finally arched my back high and, just like that, he popped into my throat. I hummed in triumph, my spit flowing freely along his shaft, glazing his balls, slopping over onto my grasping fingers, and I forced myself lower when I heard him moan far, far above.

When I pulled back off, red-faced and gasping, his white teeth flashed down at me in a wide grin. It was the happiest I'd ever seen him, and I felt a glow of achievement wash over me as I dived back over the solid flesh in my fist, sucking him greedily down once more, my mouth and nose completely packed with him: his taste, his smell were my whole world, and it made my brain sing when he thrust up into me once, then again, his hips moving underneath me like a dancer's.

Cum for me, I willed him. Please. Cum in my mouth.

It felt like I'd never wanted anything more in my life than to give him pleasure, and when he finally gripped my hair and arched high off my bed, I could hardly believe what he was about to do. I backed off him at once when I heard him hold his breath, just like he had when he'd painted my face... was that only yesterday? Could it have only been that recently? But now he was grunting, a guttural and manly sound, before he at last launched his load into my mouth.

The suddenness overwhelmed me, for it had been a long, long time since I'd sucked a man dry. All at once a starchy-sweet, thick heat filled my mouth, and I didn't fully realize what was happening before, with another choked moan from above me, he spewed again. I began to swallow, but his third powerful blast forced me to back off and take the rest across my nose and chin, both of us collapsing in gaspy moans as the last of his warm, eager load trickled out in a series of spasms. I swallowed it all down, a tangy delight. "Fuck," he sighed, his whole body relaxing beneath mine.

"Mouth." I closed my eyes, my head resting on his thigh, exulting in the flavor of him inside my mouth. This was bliss, I told myself, the joy of giving pleasure to another. I jiggled his balls. "Thank you, Noah."

"No. Thank you, Ms LaPerla." His hands stroked my hair again, gentle and firm, and I smiled tiredly to myself as I bathed in his approval.

The night found us tightly embracing, fingers drifting, eyes closing. "I'll start taking my birth control tomorrow morning, Noah," I whispered to him our bodies twined together. "I promise." He replied with a kiss as I nestled into his chest.

* * *

Three days, I calculated it would take, to get my birth control back up to par. The internet suggested I take four, but I wasn't sure I'd be able to keep my legs closed that long. Because, even though Noah waited on me, he didn't exactly keep his hands to himself.

Three school days. Three days of interplay, glances, and pretense as he sat in the back row of my drama class. Three days of his naked body draped casually across my couch. Three days of him smiling lazily up at me as I straddled his face, heaving along his nose and mouth, giving my pussy to his tongue; three days, then, of his beard scratching angry and red on my inner thighs. Three days of his fingers locked around my fleshy ass. Three days smelling him, and leaving him smelling like me. Three days of my fingers and lips curling around his leather ballsack, his velvet cockhead, his satin shaft. Three days of picking his pubes out of my teeth. Three days of longing, of struggling to keep myself from mounting him and impaling myself, of leaving trails of my vaginal juices all along his chest and face.

Three days of laundry, my panties fretting in the machine.

He stayed out of my bed after that first night, and out of my house completely other than a quick half-hour stolen from a chilly afternoon a few days before the Valentine Follies. He spent that half-hour, that magic half-hour, running his lips and tongue and fingers and balls across my naked body as I lay sprawled on my bed, feeling like his queen. Noah was always hard and endlessly patient, obviously wanting to fuck and yet never once blaming me, not after that first flash of near-anger when I'd had to deny him.

He joked about it once, that day, as he caressed me. "I don't blame you for not wanting me bare, Ms LaPerla."

"Melissa," I purred.

"Anyway. If you want, I could do you up the ass?"

I twisted my head around. "Have you done that?" His eyes gleamed. "Never mind," I replied to myself, shuddering. I never liked to think about those other four, the teachers he'd fucked already. The ones he'd probably lavished his attention on, the ones he'd trailed his fingers over, the ones who had given him their bodies as selflessly as I was. Well, almost as selflessly; one of them should certainly have insisted on a condom. "No thanks. I don't need anal."

"No?" He teased me then, his body suspended over mine in a push-up position, muscles taut in his arms. I felt his hard-on dip down along my buttcrack, but this time he pushed a bit, probing. I squawked as he laughed softly above me. "I'm kidding."

"Jerk." I sucked him off instead, as he straddled my chest and fed me his dick. It was wonderful.

But it was not sex. Not yet. And my body was primed for that, begging for it, seeking it as surely as a junkie seeks heroin. I thought about it every morning as I woke up and every evening as I went to sleep. I thought about it during the dress rehearsal. I thought about it backstage the next night, as I shoved my singers and actors out before the audience for the Follies. That was the third night, the night the internet said I'd be safe to take Noah deep inside me.

The night I would let him catch me, as his mother had guessed I would at the parent conference. Seemed like a year ago. I didn't like to think about how accurate she'd been, how important it was that she not figure out what her son was doing with me. I was, admittedly, way past caring at that point. Noah had flattened me, an avalanche into my life, and I'd let go and decided to just move down the mountain and try to avoid getting smashed into pieces at the bottom.

"See ya." I ushered the last of my performers out of the dressing room and then locked it, my heart stopping for a moment as I turned into the hallway near my office. I cleared my dry throat. "Um. Mrs Chandler."

"Ms LaPerla." Noah's mother leaned against the wall with a show program in hand. "I was glad I could make it."

"Noah did really well," I found myself saying. "I'm very proud of him. Of all the kids."

She shrugged. "I had no clue he could sing like that." She fidgeted a moment, as if she couldn't think what to say, but I figured I should just wait. "He certainly responds to you."

I felt a chill up my spine. Did she know? Was this some sort of innuendo? "I guess he does." This was no lie, but I didn't plan on telling her that the nature of Noah's response was an erection stiff enough to pry a door open. I licked my lips. "The, uh, the thing you were worried about? When you came to see me?" A smile forced its way out. "It seems there's nothing to worry about," I lied.

"Yeah?" She didn't seem convinced. "Meaning what?" Her eyes did not waver, her voice flat. "He's not sleeping with you yet?"

I froze. "Hey." I hoped I looked properly offended. We were standing at the door to my drama office, within sight of the couch where Noah had licked my pussy not three hours before. But his mother did not need to know that.

A half-smile quirked her mouth. "Sorry. I'm just a little bit cynical about him. And you. But you already know that." She looked down. "He's been pretty happy lately, and he used to get like that when he was fucking a teacher. Maybe he's found some other teacher he's doing; I don't know. Anyway. Thanks for involving him in this show, Ms LaPerla. I think he enjoyed it."

I swallowed. "It was my pleasure. I really do have high hopes for him. I think he's doing well here." I listened to myself in disbelief, wondering whether she'd have that same smirk on her face when she replayed this conversation later, after someone found us out. Or after I couldn't escape the pull of him, the magnetic attraction that had sucked me in so easily. If that happened, well, I supposed I'd start coming over to this bitter woman's house for Thanksgiving.

Because somewhere in the back of my mind was the wild fear that one day, I might actually date Noah Cruz. The thought thrilled and destroyed me. I looked away. "It's been a long day, Mrs Chandler. If you don't mind..."

"Sure." She yawned. "Me too. Noah's left already; he's got a night shift. So." She looked at me for a moment. "Bye."

"Goodnight, Mrs Chandler." I watched her go, thinking about Noah's night shift. Which was going to be with me; he'd already be at my house by now.

What the fuck was I doing?

* * *

Always before, I'd come home from the school's annual Valentines show drained, craving nothing but a drink and an early night's sleep, but tonight was different. I did not expect to see the lights on in my house as I pulled up in the mid-February darkness; Noah was not an idiot. But he was in there: I knew it. He'd texted me on my way home, a smiley face and an eggplant.