Incest/Taboo There's a New Teacher in Town

On Monday I asked Kevin to stay after class. With the classroom door wide open I said, "Yesterday, it was wonderful, but..."

"I was afraid of that but," he said, forcing a smile.

"I shouldn't have let it happen. It was my fault."

"Mrs. Huff, it wasn't your fault. It was my intent to seduce you, to make you my lover."

His directness startled me. "Do you understand the consequences of what you're suggesting?"

"Yes." He was candid; he understood.

I looked out the window. I was pretty enough to capture the media's attention. I imagined a hoard of reporters, cameras in hand, filming me as I was led from the school in hand cuffs. I imagined my daughter watching me on television.

"No, it ends now."

I steeled myself for an emotional outburst or threat, but instead was met with a determination that matched my own.

"The moment you walked into class I knew our bodies were designed to please each other, that someday you'd be mine. If there was any doubt about that proposition, it was settled yesterday. Yesterday was the best sex of your life, no rule or regulation will change that. I won't stop trying to make you my lover and, in the end, I'll succeed. It's what we both want."

I started to argue, but stopped. Continuing the debate, I realized, would only weaken me. I was already aroused and his calm confident tone only served to further incite my desire for him. If we argued, if I re-lived what happened the day before, I might just... It was better to stop. There was one more thing I needed to address, but wasn't sure how to raise it.

"There is something else, what happened, it needs to be kept private."

He listened, was confused for a second, and then understood.

"Are you afraid I'll brag to my friends or try to blackmail you?"

I was almost ashamed to admit it, but I was. "Yes."

He perceived my embarrassment and, surprisingly, moved to comfort me.

"I hadn't thought about that, but I can see why it would worry you. I haven't and I won't. What happened is between us."

He left the classroom. I wanted to beg him to come back, to make love to me one last time.
​

* * * *​

Kevin was true to his word. He did not threaten or cajole me and if word of our liaison got out, there was no evidence of it. I was thankful. If word spread that Kevin had nailed the hot new teacher, most every girl in the class would throw herself at him (assuming they weren't already), but he kept the secret. Nonetheless, I could see his desire for me in his eyes and wondered if I looked the same; I often left class with underwear damp as my imagination replayed our encounter in the woods. While showering I'd masturbate while dreaming about Kevin taking me. If my husband wondered why I was suddenly more aggressive in bed, he did not ask why.

On the positive side, Julie was adjusting to the new school faster than I'd anticipated and was moving among a better class of friends. I could also tell from her good mood, gossipy phone calls, and endless text messaging that there was a proto-boyfriend out there.

About three weeks after my tryst with Kevin I arrived home, having stopped at the grocery store. The supermarket had been crowded and I was in a surly mood. My husband was watching television. I wanted to ask him to give me a hand unloading the car but in my present mood I was afraid I'd bite his head off if I got one of his half-ass answers.

As I lugged the groceries in from the car my husband yelled from the next room.

"You were right."

"About what?" I yelled back. Why couldn't he get his lazy butt off the couch, walk in here, have a normal conversation, and give me a fucking hand.

"Julie, she's been seeing someone. I met him today. You were also right about getting her to new environs. She said he's one of the school's top students. Remember how we couldn't figure out how she got a 96 on her calculus exam. It turns out he tutored her. They're studying together now; she has another exam tomorrow; he's one of your students; he spoke real well of you."

"Did you catch his name?"

"Yeah, I think, Calvin or Kevin something."

My knees buckled. Fear, trepidation, and anger coursed though my body and reverberated in my voice. "Damn it, is that the best you can do, what's his fucking name!!"

My husband stumbled into the kitchen to issue one of those I-am-not-sure-what-I-did-but-I-better-apologize-to-the-wife-anyway apologies, but it didn't matter. I had run through the list of my students in my head. There was only one possible candidate for Kevin or Calvin something.

I poured my husband a few more drinks than usual that night and shuffled him off to bed. I wanted to be the only person awake when Julie got home. I wasn't sure why; I had no plan to confront her. Maybe, it was because I had no idea what I might do that I didn't want Bruce as a witness.

She arrived home skipping, walking on air, glowing in post-orgasmic joy. Her eyes were lazy and dreamy and her face split by a wide smile. I knew the look; she may have been studying (her 97 confirmed she had) but any woman could see that she'd been fucked and fucked well.

Julie kissed me affectionately and then hugged me. "Mommy, you were right. You always told me to date nice smart guys, but I liked bad boys, I figured they'd...," she stopped, realizing she had started a sentence she didn't want to finish.

A pause and she re-booted. "But I got me a nice one now and he's great. He treats me well, helps me out at school, and," she paused, searching for a euphemism, "he's a wonderful kisser. He's even cute. He's one of your students, he says you're a great teacher."

She hadn't yet told me his name. I steeled myself and put my hand on the side of her face, straightening her hair. "Honey, who is it."

"Sorry Mom, figured Daddy told you, Kevin, Kevin Pearson."
​

* * * *​

I asked Kevin to stay after class the following day.

"How long have you been seeing my daughter?"

"A week, ten days. I'm in the tutoring program here. Mr. Hunakee said Julie was having trouble in calculus and asked me to help her. I did. We hit it off."

"Are you sleeping with her?"

I knew the answer. I'm not sure why I asked.

"Mrs. Huff, I thought we decided our sex lives were private."

"I want you to stop seeing her."

He didn't hesitate. "No. You may have the right to tell your daughter who she can date, but you can't tell me who I can date. If Julie tells me you've forbidden her from seeing me and wants me to respect your decision, I will. But I will not do your job. If you want to set limits for your daughter, do it."

I was stymied. I had expected him to crumble in the face of my demand, but he didn't flinch. And then he, in order to defuse the confrontation, approached me, his voice dropping a tone, becoming comforting and consoling. "I am not going out with Julie to get at you. I like her. We have fun together. I'm good for her."

I thought about how happy Julie had been, how she had seamlessly integrated into the new school, and what a betrayal it would seem to her if Kevin, the nice guy, dumped her sans explanation or reason. Kevin studied my face. He saw my concern.

"Okay, if you ask me to end it, I will, I'm not sure that I'd say, but I will."

In a barely perceptible voice I said, "No, no its fine."

"I will treat her well."

I desperately wanted his lips on mine. "I know you will." As he left I studied his body. My fingers, half consciously, ran across my chest, touching my erect nipples.
​

* * * *​

It's hard to describe my feelings over the next few weeks. I had never seen my daughter this happy. Inculcated into Kevin's network of friends, she was getting the best grades of her life and she and Kevin got along famously. Kevin was endlessly inventive: he was always dragging Julie and the gang off to a free festival or concert, a hike in the woods, or a canoe trip down a wild stream. The spring in her step when she returned from dates confirmed she was getting fucked well and often. Part of me was happy. The part of me that was married to man who was more interested in golf than anything also, was not happy. The part of me that missed the sex was not happy.

I don't want to condemn my husband. He was a decent supportive man. While he had never met all my needs, through my work and friendships I had built a satisfying life. But my husband was the only place I was getting sex and what I was getting was, at best, spasmodic, perfunctory, and barely-satisfying. He could not compare to Kevin; he could not compare to my own fingers accompanied by fantasies of Kevin. When Julie returned from dates, her skin flush with a post-coital glow, I imagined Kevin's big cock pistoning into her and wondered if his cum was dripping from her cunt. Was she a screamer? Did she squirt?

Despite my ongoing frustration all went well until a Saturday morning in October. Kevin had organized a group of students to clear trash from a river south of town. He had been working on the project with Julie and Ivy at Ivy's house the night before. Julie had spent the night there. At 7:25 A.M. I got a call from my barely conscious daughter. She and Ivy were supposed to have finished up after Kevin left, but had instead goofed around and then forgot to set the alarm so they could finish the work in the morning. Kevin was going to pick them up at my house at 7:30. She needed another hour. Could I detain Kevin?

Just then the doorbell rang. I told her good-bye and went to the door. It was Kevin. Always polite and cheerful, he greeted me.

"Morning Mrs. Huff. You look great."

I was wearing my grungiest robe and had neither combed my hair nor applied make-up. I did not look great.

"Thank you Kevin, but I just crawled out of bed. I doubt I look great."

"That's the thing about being a beautiful woman Mrs. Huff, you don't need all that stuff."

I was defeated. "Thank you".

I gave him the news. He didn't look surprised.

"I was over there last night working with them. They said they'd finish after I left, but they both had a pretty good case of the giggles. I didn't think they had much work left in them."

I invited him in for a cup of coffee and excused myself, hurrying upstairs to apply light make-up and lip gloss, comb out my hair, brush my teeth, and change to a nicer robe. My presence was undetected by my snoring husband. When I got back downstairs Kevin was sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book he had pulled off our shelves. He had finished his coffee.

"Thank you for the coffee Mrs. Huff. I can leave and comeback. I don't want to be a nuisance."

"No bother Kevin. Julie asked me to detain you."

He smiled, that winning grin I liked so much. I couldn't take my eyes from his face.

"Well it's hard to say no to a beautiful woman. May I have another cup of coffee." I nodded yes. He looked at my empty mug. "Can I get you some more while I'm up."

I handed him my mug. As he walked to the coffee maker I scanned his body, from head to toe, and then back up. There was nothing gaudy about his appearance. He had not knocked me out of my socks when I first saw him, but he was lean and muscular. His looks grew on you. When he turned back to me I scanned him again. I knew I shouldn't be that obvious, but the will was weak.

"Do you take milk or sugar in your coffee?"

"Milk."

When he opened the frig his eyes lighted on a rack of strawberries I had bought at the farmer's market the day before. I realized I hadn't offered my guest anything to eat.

"Would you like some strawberries?"

"Yes, thank you."

He handed me my cup of coffee. When his hand touched mine a shock radiated through my body. I smiled, staring at him. His eyes locked on mine and then he retrieved the strawberries and walked to the sink.

I knew I was entering a danger area. I wanted this young man. I should go upstairs and wake my husband, but I wanted a few guilty moments with Kevin. I picked up my cup of coffee and followed him to the sink, fiddling with the belt of my robe, loosening it, exposing a bit of the swell of my breasts. What harm could a little innocent teasing do? I put my coffee cup on the counter and while he washed the fruit stood close to him, too close, well within his space. My legs were spread apart, my body squarely faced him. He turned towards me; his eyes focused on my face. He didn't glance at my cleavage. I ran my hands down my body. He handed me a strawberry. I took it from him, letting my fingers sit in his hand, then pulling away slowly, letting my fingers drag across his palm.

I bit off half of the strawberry, taking my time to chew on it.

There was a voice in my head screaming for me to stop. But it was a little voice, drowned out by the lie that there was nothing wrong with a little flirting. Nothing could possibly happen; we were in my kitchen, my husband was upstairs, my daughter would be home soon.

"It's delicious." I put my left hand on his arm and with the right offered him the rump of the strawberry. He ate it, taking his time, his eyes not leaving my face. I ran my hands through my hair, moving it away from my face.

He fished out another strawberry, feeding it to me as he had done with him. I put on a show with the next strawberry, biting slowly through the ripe fruit, taking my time, chewing it lazily, swallowing. My eyes were half shut. I licked my lips in a long languid motion. My breathing deepened. Only an idiot could miss what was happening to me. He was no idiot.

While his eyes never left my face, his hand slipped inside my robe, finding a breast. His thumb stroked the nipple; it, flushed with blood, sprang to attention. His other hand, in a single swift expert motion, undid the knot on my robe. It drifted open. There was no question he knew how much I wanted him, how I wanted what we had under the sun by the side of the river.

As my breasts swelled in his hand I tried, I really did, to gather together my wits, to ignore his soft blue eyes, the incessant nagging of my sex, and the electricity leaping from my breasts. When I told him no before he had respected my decision. I knew if I was going to tell him to stop, it had to be now.

He seemed to sense I was making an effort to rally myself, for he said something that threw me off balance.

"Julie's noticed the way you and I look at each other. She say's she thinks you have a crush on me and I one on you."

My voice was weak, unfocused. "What, what did you say?"

A finger teased the opening of my vagina, slid up my labia, and touched the hood encasing my clitoris.

"Uuuuunnnnnhhhhh."

"I said I did."

I placed my hands on his shoulders to steady myself. His finger repeated its journey up my sex. My eyes closed; I moved my hips in a slight rocking motion. I leaned forward and touched my forehead to his cheek. My body was on fire, stoked by his touch and the revelation that my daughter had perceived my desire for her boyfriend.

My body trembling, my hands glided from his shoulder to his chest. "What did she say?"

"She said, 'Cool!' It seems all her boyfriends have, but I was the first to admit it. It didn't bother her at all."

He pushed the robe off my shoulders. It fell to the floor. Any hope I had of saying no was gone. I spread my legs. He stroked the silky damp hair of my crotch. His head rested beside mine and he whispered in my ear.

"Do you still think of that time by the river. I do, all the time. Sometimes I do when I make love to your daughter."

His fingers grazed my wet pussy lips.

"Do you?"

I shuddered with lust and rocked against his hand, my round fleshy tits jiggled, my thick nipples tightened. "Oh God! Yes! Yessss! All the time." Kevin captured a nipple, pinched it, caressed it, stroked it. He ducked his head and took it in his mouth. I grabbed his shoulders.

A finger was rubbing the oozing groove of my aching cunt, its lips swollen with desire. It entered me. The pleasure in my pussy was intense. My voice low, I panted, emitting a short hard breath each time his digit penetrated me. It felt so good, so damn good.

He slid two, then three, fingers into my cunt, pushing them deep. I swirled my ass in rhythmic fuck-motions. He brought his thumb to my swollen clit, rubbed circles around it and then, expertly, pushed aside the hood and played with the bud directly. He captured a nipple between his lips and lashed it with his tongue. The pleasure in my breasts fed directly into my hot pussy.

I was close to swooning. "Aannnnggghhh! Oh shit! Ohhnnn! Unnhhh!"

My body was twisting and churning. He placed a hand on the small of my back, steadying me and pushing my pussy against his hand. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him; all my suppressed desire for him over the past months lived in that kiss. I shimmied my ass, pushed my pussy against his hand, which continued its assault on my sex. He changed the motion of his fingers. Instead of plunging in and out, he moved in a cork screw fashion. His thumb never ceasing working my clit.

I had thought the intensity of my orgasms by the river were etched in my memory, but I was wrong. No memory could duplicate what this young man was doing to me. I was coming close to unglued. My body erupted in flames; hot flashes of incredible, unimaginable, pleasure streaked through my flesh.

Flipping and churning my hips, fucking my pussy faster and faster against his hand, I cried, "Oh yes! Oh yes! Yesssss!" I was on the edge of a violent climax. With his hand pressed on my inflamed cunt, Kevin rotated me so my back was against the kitchen counter, allowing him to push into me with greater force. My jaw locked, I stopped breathing, I gritted my teeth, mumbling, "God, it's here! God, it's here, it's here, ohmigod fuck it's here!"

Kevin pulled my head into his neck to muffle the sound and I shrieked, "Ahhhhiiieeeee!" Contractions wracked my uterus and vagina and my trembling body was devoured by the spasms of an explosive overwhelming climax. "Oh! Oh! Unghhhee! Ohhhhh! Unnnneeeee!" The hot come poured from me and I was battered by wave after wave of excruciating, almost painful, delight. He kept diddling my cunt and clit and another orgasm followed the first, almost strangling me with pleasure.

I shook and rattled until I couldn't take any more. Exhausted, legs trembling, I turned from him and fell onto the counter, gulping air into my aching lungs.

He stood behind me, his hands ran up and down my back and sides. My pussy immediately started quivering; I was heating up again. While he stroked me, his voice calm and measured, he said, "Mrs. Huff, there is one thing Julie and I can't quite agree on. I've never fucked a woman's ass. I want to try it and Julie says 'no,' but her resolve is weakening. I've heard it can hurt and that some woman love it, other's hate it. And then, well, I've been longing for your butt for from day one. Think of it, you can satisfy my curiosity and protect your daughter at the same time."

I was in the stratosphere, floating along, weightless in post-orgasmic bliss. My body was relaxed, completely open to sensation and pleasure. I heard his words but only half understood them. Still, at the moment I was his, I could deny him nothing.

He knelt behind me and licked the opening to my anus. It felt so good. His tongue probed inside. I whispered, "Oooooooohh, feels so nice." I reached back and tried to spread my ass cheeks, but I was still far too spent to do so. My arms returned to the counter.

His tongue left my asshole, eliciting a soft groan of displeasure from me. I lifted my ass and spread my legs, offering him better access. A finger entered my cunt, coating itself with my juice. It felt good and then it was gone. I wanted it back inside me. And that's when it slid into my anus. There was no resistance, it was well lubricated and my body jello.

He moved it in and out, slowly and carefully, taking his time. He wiggled it, stimulating the nerves gathered at the opening of my anus.

"MMMMmmmmmmmmmm, yes, Kevin, so nice..."

A second finger entered my backside, then a third. Discomfort mingled with the pleasure. As these strange new sensations flooded my body, I began to focus on what he had said earlier. Was he really going to fuck my ass? I had never done it; most of my college girlfriends thought it bearable, a few swore by it. My husband had never asked. If there was ever a time to try it, it was now; my body was so limp I wondered if I still had bones. I was curious and I would be protecting my daughter.

I had also lost, to be honest, the power to say no to him. He could have me however he wanted.

I tipped my ass up, tendering it to him. My voice dreamy, I said, "Its my first time too, be careful."

Although my arms were weary, I reached back and pulled my ass-cheeks apart. The absurdity of the moment snuck into my brain. Here I was, sprawled across my kitchen counter, my husband sleeping upstairs, offering my anal cherry to one of my students, who was also my daughter's boyfriend. My husband could be climbing out of bed right now, my daughter could be pulling into the driveway. When I imagined them stumbling in on the scene I felt a new eruption of need between my legs.

Kevin was in no hurry. He was transferring pussy juice to my anus when he spotted an open butter dish. With two fingers he coated the anal aperture with the butter and then pushed some inside me with his index finger. The fire my orgasm had extinguished was reborn, burning hot, consuming my flesh. I tried to relax, but as his finger moved in and out of my backside I began humping the counter. My asshole twitched open and shut. I found I could control the movement, biting down on Kevin's finger. I looked back. He was staring at my asshole. Was its pink virginity enticing?

He moved my hands from my asscheeks, replacing them with his own. Spreading me apart, he traced his tongue in a tiny circle around my anus. I shivered, moaned, "Yesss...," and pushed back. I captured the juice dripping from my cunt and stroked my clitoris.

Kevin stood. His tongue was gone: my asshole spasmed; I groaned in disappointment. He carefully coated his cock with the butter. My asshole spasmed again and I felt butter drip down my anal crevice; I must have forced some of it out. One of Kevin's fingers pressed at my asshole and it moved inside gently, easily, forcing more lubricant inside me. He rimmed my anus with his fingertip. The feeling was exquisite, but I needed more. I wanted him inside me.

"It's time Kevin, please, now."

He fit his cock to my anus. There was some resistance, less than I expected, before my ring muscle yielded and his cock head entered me. Still, more from the anxiety than any pain, I gasped. Slowly, carefully, he moved inside, gliding forward bathed in the lubricant his cock forced down my rectum. Soon he was all the way in, his hips against my butt cheeks.

I can't say it didn't hurt, but at the same time I felt pleasure radiating from places I would not have imagined possible. I loved the feeling of being stuffed full of his meat.

I turned my head. "Give me a second." I lay there, focusing my mind on the sensations emanating from my asshole. I manipulated my muscles, squeezing down on him. I hadn't even noticed I'd stopped working my clitoris until his hand replaced mine.

Then I heard the upstairs shower. My husband was up.

Kevin spoke before I did. "How long are his showers?"

"Ten minutes. On the weekends, closer to fifteen, twenty."

"Good, we have time."

He began to ream my ass, slowly, sensually. He did not plunge in and out, but moved an inch or two, letting me adjust but still stimulating my anal channel. I slid my left hand down my body, covering Kevin's as he worked my wet cunt.

The momentary depression in my libido caused when my husband woke up was gone, replaced by the depravity of being ass-fucked in the kitchen while he was upstairs. I felt a connection to the boy behind me. He had plumbed a part of me I hadn't know existed. Whatever the future held, I was giving him something I'd never shared with anyone. Our bodies were perfectly in tune; I looked back at him; we watched each other's faces; we breathed together. The feeling in my asshole was one of pure pleasure.

Then the perfect moment crashed. My husband yelled down the steps.

"Honey, where are my golf shoes?"

I pushed myself up from the counter. In a voice strained with sexual delight, I responded, "In the master closet."

Then to my lover, "We better hurry."

Kevin took hold of my hips and picked up the pace, moving with greater force but still employing short strokes. I pushed three fingers into my vagina, honing in on the g-spot. I had gotten lots of practice masturbating over the past few weeks; I knew how to control the pace, letting the pleasure build in ever-increasing surges. I trapped my clit against my body with my thumb. My tits swung back and forth in time with the motion of our bodies. Kevin started fucking me in longer and longer thrusts; the pressure cooker inside me heightening each time he plunged inside me. I let out short gasps of breath with each thrust, "Huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh..."

And then another crazy damn fool question bellowed from the tops of the stairs.

"Honey, where are my golf shirts?"

I was so damn close. I was gasping for air. If I let go, if I yelled a response to my husband, I'd be unable to stop screaming. I muttered loud enough for Kevin to hear, "Hall closet."

"Mr. Huff, its Kevin, she said in the hall closet."

I loved this. I twisted my head around and put on my most wanton look.

"Is this what you dreamed about, fucking your teacher up the ass, putting your big cock in her tush?"

I had always been a good girl. It was thrilling to say those words, to feel this boy's cock in my ass, stretching my hole like it had never been stretched before. Kevin seemed surprised; he looked at me with his open mouth, amazed at my words. Then he picked up the pace.

"Ahhh."

My ass was so wet, so hot, on fire, burning.

"Ahhhh..."

It felt as if a steel rod was driven into me.

"Ohhhh..."

My mind reeled with pleasure. "Ahhhh..." I couldn't stand it anymore. Kevin's cock and my fingers had me on the edge. The thought that my daughter's boyfriend, my student, was ass-fucking me in the kitchen while my husband roamed about upstairs looking for a shirt was aphrodisiacal. My belly tightened; it was a great coiled spring and it and then I exploded, the orgasm rattling through my being. My convulsing ass clamped down like a vise and I shoved back onto his dick. Kevin's cock penetrated the deepest cavities of my rectum and a deep short grunt erupted from his solar plexus. His cum poured into my asshole. I tried, and failed, to muffle the sound of my own delight, "Uuuunnnnnhhhhhhhh..."

"Is everything okay?" There were footsteps on the stairs.

Kevin stepped back. His prick slid from my asshole. I lay face down on the counter, unable to function. Kevin pulled up his shorts. "Don't worry, I'll handle it."

He left the kitchen.

"Nothing to worry about sir. I was helping Mrs. Huff rearrange some pots and pans and dropped a heavy iron skillet on her hand. She's got ice on it now, sir."

"Kevin, what are you doing here?"

He told my husband the story, drawing it out, making him laugh at the thought of Ivy and Julie getting up early on a Saturday morning to complete a school assignment. By the time Bruce got to the kitchen I had a washcloth filled with ice pressed to a non-existent injury. Kevin's cum, leaking from my ass, joined the juice from my cunt and dripped down my leg. I had enough time to clean it off, but I did not want to waste the chance to stand next to my husband with my thighs coated with the detritus of my infidelity. My face, still flushed, was unnoticed by a not particularly attentive man with his mind on golf.

I excused myself to go upstairs and shower. By the time I got back downstairs my husband was gone and Julie and Ivy had arrived. Julie was making goo-goo eyes at Kevin. Lucky girl, I thought.

"Mom, you sure do look good this morning. Good night's sleep?"

It's amazing what a post-orgasmic glow can do for a woman's looks.​