The Fifth One

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Such a subtle young man.

I flew from my car as soon as I slammed the engine off, flying up toward my door with a light step and a heavy sense of fear, like I was being watched in the evening. I swept my gaze around Myrtle Road, looking for a car that might belong to his mother, maybe with a shadowy shape waiting in the driver's seat... but I saw nothing unusual. Even so, my key trembled when I tried to line it up in my front door.

The house opened for me, and I stepped quickly inside. "Hello? Noah?" I called out, locking it behind me. I glanced across at the slider to the backyard, but he'd already locked that. "I'm home!" It all felt curiously domestic.

"Hi, Ms LaPerla." He was sitting on the couch in my living room; I'd looked straight past him, checking the slider. He yawned. "Come sit with me."

"Oh my god. Noah." I grinned, flicking on the hall light, and ran to him. "You did so well in the Follies!" I leapt on top of him, his arms ready for me, lanky body comforting beneath mine as I landed. He felt warm and solid, his smell comforting me as it always did. "Why are you dressed?"

He chuckled softly into my mouth, then swept me away with one of his soul-destroying kisses. I couldn't remember ever feeling so close to a man, even my ex-husband. I ignored the thought. "I just got here," he told me softly. "I stopped at the drugstore on the way over."

"The drugstore?" My first thought was condoms, which made no sense when we'd waited not to use them, but then he was taking something from the coffee table and handing it me: a red envelope.

A greeting card.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Melissa LaPerla," he said gently, his eyes showing their usual droopy mystery, his arms loose around me. "I hope you don't mind."

"Oh my god," I said again, feeling my grin light up my whole face, my whole body. I sat in his lap, like his girlfriend or something, and kissed him. "You didn't need to get me a card."

"I know." He returned my kiss, keeping hold of my tongue between his lips before letting me have it back. We smiled. "You want other things. But I just wanted to say thanks. You're a big part of why I'm doing so well at school."

"More of your honesty," I smiled, slashing the envelope open with my thumb as he began softly kissing my face. I felt myself tingle as I read the message. "That's sweet," I purred, looping my arm around his head as he pulled his lips along my jaw, then down the side of my neck. "Mmm. Fuck."

"Mouth, Ms LaPerla." It was a hot whisper across my ear. I reached down to his lap, completely unsurprised to find him hard again. "I liked performing. Singing."

"I liked watching you." It was the truth. He'd sat there during his skit, singing strongly, keeping up with other students whose parents had put them into voice lessons as soon as they could speak. The show had been amazing. "You sounded so good."

"Thank you." He trailed his fingers across my chest. He loved my tits. "I had a good teacher."

"Flatterer," I chuckled, reaching into his pants, but by that time he was twisting my nipple again and I gasped hard, unable to joke anymore. I shuddered. "It helps when my student is so much fun to be around." It came out in a rush, for I didn't trust myself to say much.

"Fun." He sucked in his gut, giving me room to slide into his pants, and grasping his warm hard dick was as exciting as it had been that first time. Barely a week ago! "This is fun." He licked at the space behind my collarbone, tickling me, his other hand slipping easily into my pants. He loved my ass, too. "Get naked, Melissa." It was a simple wish from him, an honest expectation, and I obeyed without thinking.

I knew what he'd do to me once I offered myself to him, and I wanted that badly. I needed to be nude for him. My clothes fell carelessly to my floor, the cool air of the living room flowing over my body the way his fingers and penis had done, just the other day as we'd lain on my bed and dreamed about fucking each other. I wormed my feet out of my socks and stood there before him, naked as the day I was born, proud to show myself.

"You're excited," he observed with that slight smile he was so good at, the one that made me melt. I knew what he meant: my nipples were so hard they were sore, and I could tell my pussy was in danger of leaking all over my thighs. He nodded and winked. "You horny or something?"

"So horny," I cooed, my voice coming out all husky. I stared down at him, my body silhouetted by the hall light behind me, and cleared my throat. "Come to bed with me."

"Okay." He didn't so much get up from the couch as unfold, his jutting dick tenting his pants as it always had. I smiled down at it, and he shrugged. "I'm horny too," he explained.

"Good." I whirled and sauntered away down toward my bedroom, putting some extra sway into my steps, some extra jiggle in my ass. The house was silent other than my feet, padding on the rug, but I seemed to hear the rush of blood through my body, the hammer of my heart. I came to the bedroom first, but not by much; no sooner had I flicked my light on than I felt his hands on my hips, gliding along my flesh. I shivered when he reached around to cup my breasts.

"You're beautiful." He said it in a low mutter, from just behind me, and I moaned as I leaned my head back against his chest. A hand groped behind me, seeking the zipper on his pants.

I needed to feel his skin.

He gave my nipples one more pair of pinches, then brought his hands down to join mine in undressing him. I turned, slowly, smiling up at him with my eyes wide, the two of us exposing him: shirt first, while he worked at his pants, and then he got those down to the floor as I ran my hands along his chest. We said nothing; we didn't need to. He was still kicking off his shoes when my hands fell onto his eager dick; I never could keep from touching him. I held him while my lips flicked over his chest, breathing him in, his body moving against me as he at last stepped free from his pants, and then he wasted no time in reaching for me.

His hands were hungry for my ass.

I stepped into his kiss eagerly, one foot rising up his leg, our bodies trapping his erection between us as we had so many times before during this long, magical week. He was his usual taut, live-wire self in my arms, both our hands roving unashamed, touching whatever we could reach as our kisses grew deeper, wetter, more fervent. I could hear him groaning, the sound touching something deep inside me, my own arousal tied to his; this, my hands and my mouth told him, is the pleasure I can give to you.

And soon, now, my pussy would give him the most pleasure of all.

I needed him, suddenly, with a blinding sense of need, like a thirsty man in the desert; quickly I pushed at him, turning us both, shuffling his bare feet toward my bed even as my mouth kept sucking desperately at his tongue. He fell back onto the mattress, his limbs driving him up toward the pillows while his dick, hard and straight and perfect, swayed from side to side.

I straddled him, still without saying anything, feeling the sweat prickling underneath my arms and my tits. I stared down at the cobblestones of his abs and chest, at the lazy face with its eyes now alert, staring up at my naked body, full and luscious as Aphrodite, come now to claim him. His hands on my hips drew me up his legs, but I didn't need him to urge me; I was urging myself by that time, reaching greedy hands down before me to lift his dick, holding it high, caressing it with shaking fingers.

His eyes watched me closely, taking me in: eyes wide, mouth parted, face flushed, nipples stiff, pussy swollen. His face showed pride, and want, and warmth, and the timeless look of triumphant satisfaction every man has when they're about to claim a woman. I waited just a moment, looking down past where my tits shuddered with my quick, deep breaths, down to where he waited for me like a rocket waiting to launch.

I rose on my knees, still staring down at us, and held him to my pussy.

He did not arch. He waited, strong hands reaching around to the top of my butt, both of us sighing when his streamlined cockhead pierced me, parted me, and slid within. I felt him all the way, his thick head and his long shaft, his harsh firm ridges and, at last, the coils of his pubic hair mashing against my clit like tiny springs.

He was in me, balls-deep, in one single stroke. That's how wet I was.

I threw my head back, riding a man for the first time in months, my hands resting on his ribcage beneath his nipples. He was a solid, strong tower inside me, endlessly arousing and endlessly alive, giving me a sense of completion, of perfection. I smiled dreamily down at him, raising my eyes away from where we joined, to find him staring back up at me. His hands drifted up, hefting my tits, tweaking my nipples, and all at once a little surge of joy smashed down from my chest to my pussy. I stirred, then gasped, then rode.

Rising, falling, I rode. I thrashed down onto him, feeling the wonder of him slipping in and out of me, grinding along his lap at the bottom of each stroke. He lay there, quiet, letting me have my pleasure, happy that I was happy. He felt like I'd expected he would, like we'd both known he would.

We fit.

For a split second it occurred to me how wonderful this must be for him, to have his teacher writhing on his pole, but then I remembered I was the fifth one. But that didn't change anything about how he was making me feel, or how I was making him feel. I bent low, dragging my tits on his chest, and while my lips sought his he bent his knees, braced his feet on my mattress, and began to thrust up into me.

"Oh my god." It was a whimper, the first words I'd said in awhile, a quiet rush of breath into his mouth; we kissed, perhaps the hottest and most soulful kiss I'd ever shared with a man, his thrusts increasing until there was almost no interval between the clapping noises his thighs made against my ass. "My fucking god."

He spat my tongue out of my mouth. "You love this."

"I do!" I gave a squeak when he changed his motion, hilting himself and then swirling his dick within me, my pussy waking up with shocking abruptness. "Make me cum, Noah!"

He jabbed up into me once more, a long and hard stroke, and then he was shoving me roughly onto my back. I landed with a harsh gasp, but he was already diving low, mouth ready, to curl his tongue up under my clit and suck it to life.

I was confused at first, until I realized he was doing it so that we could cum together.

My feet shot outward, legs spreading like a harlot, hands curling behind his head to mash his face into my reddened, soupy vag. He had gotten me off like this before, but this time I was already nearly there; I gave him just a couple of minutes down there, my orgasm rising quickly all throughout my body, before I spoke again in a voice that didn't even sound like mine. "Fuck me, Noah!"

He bounded up off his knees, face feral now, and pinned me firmly to my bed, thrusting straight back inside me; my body moved up another notch, drawing closer to a sexual oblivion that I knew would be better than anything I'd ever felt before. He fucked me smoothly, steadily, his long eager strokes gliding his penis in and out of me, whipping me into a frenzy that left me gasping and shaking beneath his coiled body.

And so, for the first time, I came on his dick.

He plunged deep inside me, speeding up, bringing me through it as my mouth fell open in a cracked, breathless scream. I have no idea what I said, or thought, or where my hands went; I only know that every one of my faded, scarlet thoughts was centered on nothing but him, and his body, and the way it felt inside me, the curls of lustful energy now flogging through me body, starting behind my belly button and then surging out to my limbs, making every part of me tremble.

And still, he fucked.

I reached an arm down, hesitant with such little control over my limbs, and clawed for the surging muscles of his ass, taut with the effort of jamming himself into me. My legs rose high along his thighs, wrapping nearly all the way around him as his sweat and spit began to shower my face; he wanted to release. "Cum in me, lover," I urged, my voice low and almost inaudible, but then he was gasping out a low, grating roar, his face contorting as he arched his back deeply, planting himself as deep inside me as he could go.

I felt a wash of heat, of a warmth so deliciously intense that it felt like molten metal poured into my body. Dimly I felt his penis spasm, uncontrollable now, his gasps smelling like my mouth and my pussy as he panted into my face. I'd seen him cum, watched the semen boiling out of him, arching high and proud, and it blew me away that he was doing that deep inside me now. Right now. He was completing me, and I was mewling the end of my own orgasm as his peaked and then fell off, both of us united in passion and pleasure and more.

I had my eyes closed, and I didn't even realize it until I opened them to see him falling onto me, his head nestling beside my sweaty neck, panting across my throat. I squeezed him, inside me, pleased that he'd stayed in. "Just like this," I crooned, not wanting anything to change this. I held him fiercely. "I want us just like this."

He stirred, his voice a thick whisper. "We were right," he said. "You shouldn't have let me sleep in your office."

"Screw that." I kissed him again, simply and deeply. "It led to this. So."

"Yeah." He stroked my nipples, my ribcage, my chin. "It did."

I yawned, his penis only now starting to slacken a little bit, still in my pussy. "Besides," I sighed, "if you hadn't fucked me, you'd have gone after Ms Tonelli."

"Probably," he agreed, and we both chuckled in the night.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Make sure you read all the Valentine's Contest entries and give five stars to your favorites.

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21 Comments
VoboyVoboy16 days agoAuthor

Sure.

I know of no modern high school where PE classes are not co-ed.

AnonymousAnonymous19 days ago

"....he loved Mrs Pescadero's PE class...."

OK, it's been a while since I was in high school.

OK...it's been a very long while.....a very, very long while....but who's counting....?

But...is this a thing nowadays? a woman teaching a boys PE class?

AnonymousAnonymous2 months ago

Really lacked any form of reasoning or build up or any real context to Melissa falling for the MC. This felt like a quick stroke story that was trying to be grander than it was. It's not a terrible read but it lacks depth.

AnonymousAnonymous4 months ago

I started reading this on Super Bowl Sunday morning, and stopped the first time Noah went to Melissa's house. Savoring it. Up on Edge. Watched the game then came back for another installment.

Noah wasn't jus another dick - he played her and let her indulge herself.

Still on edge, I looked forward to when they finally DID it. Budt neither the author nor Noah were Wham Bam lovers. They eased us.

Now a second day, Super Bow Monday. On page 6. I'm naked to the waist, aroused, edging. I'm as hungry for it as Melissa, and delighted that she's going to ride him.

And THEN they would cum together. Actually all three of us came together. Noah (20s), Melissa (30s) and me (80s).

I shall read on, but there's something special about the First Time.

Delightful. Best of Show.

Ian_SnowIan_Snow4 months ago

Great story, Voboy. Loved the concept and your characters are richly realized. Easy 5/5 from me.

bdave2bdave24 months ago

Well, I think this is the best story I've read on Lit. The erotic tension is masterfully woven and delightfully described. Thanks.

VoboyVoboy4 months agoAuthor

You're welcome to your opinion. Thank you.

Comentarista82Comentarista824 months ago

@Voboy... interesting that you chose to reply, as those statements all reflect the idea of relativism, which is potentially a harmful thing. While I appreciate the unexpected answer, I leave you with this: would it have hurt to have dug a little deeper? Would it have harmed your story to flesh out any of those aspects? There are critics and there are people- - and I'm not talking about general readership at this site-- that emphasize for a story to be successful that you have to account for certain elements and especially those that can form a universal connection with everyone. I remember a professor that brings down about 25 million in research for a university because he's an expert on this one topic.. and this comment always stuck with me, although it was incredibly funny at the time: he said that well by the time you get to Rambo 27, what are the three essential qualities or drops that make that story still relevant to continue producing successful sequels in that series? Those three drops have never left me, and I suggest you should embrace them. For example it's pretty obvious that Noah is a very disturbed young man- - or I should take that back-- is he still a boy because he's not 21 yet. Even his mental state is questionable, because he's going after a teacher. You introduced just that itself and it needed to explore some bit of psychology behind it. I can tell you didn't read the last part of my explanation, because the one Chilean novel I mentioned perfectly accounts for it- - especially when you combine it with the research in 2012 out of London where one scientist studied 30 pairs of twins--and determined that personality is 50% genetic; the rest is more or less evenly divided between a child's family environment and the child's friend's circle. So if you had included something like that, that actually wouldn't have been terribly costly in terms of sentences.. and you could have just explained perfectly your story and built your credibility even more. I agree that ultimately you have the privilege to do what you want but it never hurts to expand your horizons in ways people suggest. That was the constructive criticism you could have taken to heart in whatever way you felt comfortable doing so. But as I said, my score accurately reflects what the story did well at and what it should have explored.

VoboyVoboy4 months agoAuthor

Thank you for your comments. I liked how "Melissa LaPerla" flowed and I thought no more deeply than that. Same with "Cruz." I honestly spent zero time and energy on the racial aspects of the names. I'm pleased that there are readers who care so much about such things. I appreciate you reading. But frankly, the elements you view as "required" are not required: that is an entirely subjective measure. You're more than welcome to submit your own stories with whatever "requirements" you see fit to include.

Comentarista82Comentarista824 months ago

I really want to be careful with what I say and how I review this story, because as a standalone story that would not be in a competition, I would say if this were strictly done on the basis of the sexual encounters and how the two main characters seem to relate to each other.. it would be a 5; however, I have to bear in mind this is for the Valentine's Day competition, which carries certain standards that must be met, and then address other items in the story that may have been overlooked completely unknowingly.

***

I admit first of all that you structure your sentence use and deploy different lengths of sentences very well. I also appreciate the care you exercise in the grammar, as well as the transitions; and all those things I cannot find a single fault- - and you should be very proud of that - - as I've read some entries that have been very careless with grammar and/or transitions- - and it really negatively impacted those stories. I tip my hat to you in terms of how hard you worked on these areas, and made sure they would not detract from your story. Well done! In a partially related vein also, I must confess to being a tad uninformed of how common place it has become for female teachers to fall for their male students or just allow these incidents to happen: I have become aware of a Missouri teacher that fled her state on those charges, and when she came to Texas was arrested for those and is now waiting trial back in Missouri. You want to know the really unusual arrangement that occurred? The dad was aware his son was having relations with this teacher, and basically said well I know he's going to sneak out of the house to go meet her, so I might as well give him my blessing and let it happen here where at least I know he'll engage in the activity safely. I also just searched and discovered a case of a female teacher in Houston Texas that was 24 years old, Hispanic, had one child, but also got pregnant by a middle school student! You know what was weird about that? The family gave their entire blessing to the middle school student on his relationship with that teacher! Sadly but perhaps not so shockingly, I found at least four other cases that were documented on YouTube of similar incidents. So in an odd way, I feel like you've employed the story as a vehicle in some cases to raise the consciousness of readers that this is actually going on. Now, from having perused the comments regarding your story, no one seemed to care or even comment on the taboo of the entire story. So I'm not really sure beyond that perhaps you use the story to indicate this. So I will say for the time being it is a very unique and particular universal connection that bridges the gap from this fictional story to current events of today. So regardless of the implications, you masterfully employed that to your advantage.

***

I also commend you on how well you developed the storyline, and took your time in developing the sexual side of it. It was not by any reason rushed, nor was it hastily constructed; it flowed well; you prefaced through foreshadowing by the parent conference with his mother that this would possibly happen; then once you broke the sexual ice between them, things began unfolding in a steady progression. In all these things you excelled in your storytelling.

***

What strikes me as such a curiosity- - in terms of required missing elements-- is that you introduce effectively two Hispanic characters by the names of Cruz and La Perla; we know nothing about Noah's father, and that's a mistake in the story partly because you foreshadow that somehow Melissa is just a goner because Noah is going to be in her classroom. Why is that the case? It's obvious that Noah's father was Hispanic, although from where we have no clue. It is also obvious that his mother Stephanie is completely Anglo--and seemingly ignorant of anything cultural--despite the fact that she had a child with a Hispanic man. Now, when we go to Melissa, she mentions her parents having a condo in Florida, but we learn nothing about her parents. Why this is important is because while we assume they have amicable relationship-- evidenced by her having their house - - we don't know if it was truly a good relationship or not. The story also reveals to us that she was previously married, and she's had several boyfriends.. although it's been about 4 months or more since she last got laid. What --if any- - was the reason or the reasons for her marriage failing and the boyfriends disappearing? Was there something missing as a common thread in all those relationships? Why this becomes so important without the cultural part of the Hispanic issue not explained at all.. is because she would not give in to this kid- - and yes he's still a kid because he's not yet 21 - what was missing that led her to so really accept this? Without any reason provided for her resolve so completely disintegrating, what are we left with? Is he really that confident and cocky that it impresses her psyche so deeply that she just has to give in? It's obvious that he expects to bang her, but he really does nothing to win her over: it's not like he's really that charming because he has a potty mouth for one; for another it's not like he's somehow riding her romantic notes on stickies, nor is he paying her compliments all the time, nor doing something over and above what any other kid would be doing in her class. So I question why she even feels that attraction, except for the fact that maybe she hasn't gotten laid recently. The other thing is that when she asked him if there's any reason why he hasn't latched on to any of the other girls in the high school, he just basically says they're not Melissa; the reality is the story insinuates that the one girl named Candice looks similar in physical features to the teacher, but he doesn't pay attention to her for some strange reason: in other words, this suggests a psychological fixation and perhaps a compulsion-level response that he has just got to break some type of social taboo. The reason why this part and its Hispanic background has to be explained through his father is that you can partially float the story credibly if you read a Chilean novel (Casa de los espiritus by Allende) that deals with a man that finds a woman on his property and he's the owner of the hacienda, but when he finds her, he basically forces her and has his way with her. Of course she gets pregnant and has a son but here's the twist: the son carries a genetic desire for revenge and later comes back to try to kill that man. Without an explanation about Noah's father, we don't really know why he's acting this way. The other interesting idea that goes untouched is not at least explaining why neither Noah nor Melissa speak Spanish: this is a major problem because no characters can generally be used for free- - especially if and when they are of a different race that would normally be expected to speak a different language and/or be bilingual. The reason I say this is-- and I'm sure you're just totally unaware of it, but it still applies--is because explaining more of the cultural background and including the language can introduce not only readers to other possibilities, but can't explain the story behind it better. For example, it is common--incredibly so - - for some Mexican couples to actually trade wives because they are compadres. That may sound weird, but it is incredibly prevalent in the literature of Hispanic authors in Southwest. Also, you have to account for the lack of language or include the language because either you need to include it to make sure they're not paper-thin, or you have to explain why that part of their personality was stripped away. For example if you are aware of William Shatner's book series TekWar, he has a character called Sid Gomez, and he's in California.. and while he's not terribly and overwhelmingly Hispanic, he at least exhibits several of the required linguistic characteristics of knowing slang for the area and knowing some basic slang or even proper Spanish when he addresses criminals and or other people in casual conversation. In other words, to some degree you have to kind of check that off and make it convincing.. otherwise people like me who are relative experts in the area are going to call you on this lack of development.

***

Finally, this story is submitted for a contest that's supposed to revolve significantly around the ideas and the spirit of Valentine's Day. He gets her Valentine's card, any participates in the Valentine's play by singing in it, but is he really romantic at all? No he's not. Is he somehow considerate and thoughtful, more so than anyone else or even any adult in the school? No. Does he really try to use the soft touch on her to win her over? No. He's really and effectively a teacher predator if you will. He may fulfill some need she has- - which only seems that she needs to be fucked- - and that's not terribly romantic. As I said earlier, if we only account for the story as a standalone story outside of a competition, you most definitely detail the sexual encounters exceedingly well. However, the spirit of the contest overrides anything else, and unfortunately that was not accounted for.

***

You certainly nail many elements in the submission, although you miss three important ones that needed to be accounted for in the story to truly account for the things I mentioned. It was obvious that both the title and the parent conference with the mother telegraphed Noah was going to have Melissa. Therefore some of the actual encounters could have been paired back or shortened giving you the necessary room to provide at least some cursory examples and explanations for the elements that were required and were missing. As I said if it were only determined by one factor, the score on this would be its maximum; however that would also be incredibly lazy and incomplete intellectually. With the required elements missing, the best I can score this piece is a 3. Regardless, thank you for such a thoughtful construction where you ace the grammar and otherwise provided readers a story that flowed well and provided more than enough details in other areas.

Ravey19Ravey195 months ago

Good but concerned that after all the warnings she fell for him.

FreyaGersemiFreyaGersemi5 months ago

5 Stars!!! Seeing 25.1K words made me check the tags and with "older woman" and "younger man" -- well, you had me!! 😁 Though I'm not *that* old, I am well past high school!! Great story!!!! Loved it!!!!

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