Hotbeds Ch. 07

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CHAPTER 7: PLAYING PASSIVE

Introduction: The next instalment in the sexual adventures of a prep school teacher in the 1950s and 1960s.

*****

I was desolate a good while after the departure of Carmen, not even much interested in having sex, supposing any had been available. There were one or two episodes during the next year, but not worth reporting, as they didn’t afford any emotional, and not much sexual, satisfaction. And they added nothing to my understanding of women and sex. But in the May following Carmen there was a brief experience of an instructive kind.

Our oldest boys, aged 13, had the option of playing tennis in the summer, and it was decided to invite a local private girls’ school to send players around that age to play them. So a fine Saturday afternoon brought eight young ladies to our freshly refurbished grass courts.

Whatever else, they were a revelation to all the boys who came to play or watch, because they were not used to seeing so much knickerage at one time. For these females were clad in shirts and short skirts, which flew up and fell aside with the rapid dartings about.

My interest was not without knickerish interest, for the mistress in charge of these maidens was clad in similar style and her skirt was even shorter. Of course, it was entirely modest, since all was safely gathered in, but what was gathered in was a sizeable and rounded bum. And it was agreeable to feel my lust stirring again at last.

Everything about the young woman was broad. Bosom, bottom, face and accent, because she spoke Lancastrian, as I discovered when inviting her to take tea. ‘That’d be good, lad,’ she said, ‘I could do with a bucket or two o’ that on a hot day.’ And she did, indeed, sink several cups and half a dozen of our cook’s excellent cakes, chomping away with an open mouth and keeping those widely-spaced eyes flicking up and down my body.

She was not a conversationalist, but language was not necessary, since it was quickly evident that she was a female with every kind of strong appetite. Having disposed of the eatables, she bursa escort came close and said, ‘You’ve been studying my arse, and I’ve had a look at yours, as far I can see under those trousers. The lasses’ll go home with their dads and mums, so I could be free, if you fancy it.’

I didn’t need to reply, and she went on, ‘I’d better warn you, though, I don’t muck about and I like to call the tune.’

It was not difficult to appear that I was showing her our extensive and attractive grounds, which got us round to the back door and we were soon in my room. But when I moved towards her to embrace and kiss her she said, ‘I don’t do that stuff. Waste o’ time. Stand still.’ She dumped a small haversack on the bed.

Then she efficiently stripped me, ran her hands down my body as if I were a horse, turned me to inspect my bum, which she gave a sharp slap, and pushed me onto my bed.

‘Not much happening, yet, is there?’ she enquired, focusing on my only half-erect penis. ‘Let’s see what a sight of tit and arse will do.’

She stripped rapidly and stood by the bed. There was a strong smell of sweat. Her breasts were pear-shaped and firm. She pinched the nipples.

‘Let’s get you up,’ she said, perhaps to them, perhaps to me. Then she turned and showed her bottom, which was large and bulging.

‘Feel it,’ she instructed and I put a hand on it. It was hard, as if stuffed tight.

‘Don’t muck about,’ she said, ‘Give it a go,’ and I scrubbed at and squeezed it hard.

‘That’s better. I like things done full,’ she said, turning round again and studying my cock, which looked rather more promising, thanks to this display.

She climbed onto her knees on the bed at my feet, and put a hand between her thighs. ‘Coming on,’ she said, sniffing and rubbing her fingers together to test the viscosity of her vagina.

She rubbed hard at her clitoris, thrust her pelvis back and forward and pronounced, ‘It’ll do, and not take long.’

She opened the haversack and took out a round tin and a tube of ointment. ‘Just get ready.’

She opened bursa escort bayan the tin and took out a hemisphere of rubber, about the size of half a tennis ball. I was seeing my second contraceptive device, a Dutch cap. She squeezed some unguent onto the thing, bent it into a lozenge shape, opened her thighs and thrust it into her vagina.

‘Now then,’ she said, ‘You just lay there. I’ve got to do the fuck. All right?’

She straddled me and positioned her vagina above my cock, which was now, partly thanks to the strong smell of cunt, rigid enough.

She put her fingers to her clitoris and rubbed side to side. ‘Come on,’ she bade it, ‘Get going. Ah, right, that’s better.

She run the other hand down a buttock and tucked the fingers under and up into her vagina. ‘That’s about right,’ she informed me. ‘Just hold on. It won’t be long. I’ve to get it to the right state, see?’

She worked away. ‘Nice and slimy in t’twat now. Just keep the man in the boat going. That’s good.’

She lowered her bottom to position my penis where she wanted it. ‘Should go in right,’ she said. ‘Now the point is I have to come twice. Once is no good. So you’ve got to hold on and not spunk. All right? You can come when I come second time. I’ll tell you. But be careful first time because I’ll be squeezing with my cunt and that could make you come.’

She accelerated the fingers playing her clitoris and began to clench her buttocks. ‘Hold my arse,’ she commanded. ‘Grip tight. Dig your fingers in. That’s the way. Oh, now, yes, fuck, I’m going to come,’ and she grabbed my cock, held it steady and slammed down her bottom.

I shot into her vagina and hit the end. What saved me from ejaculating was probably the unfamiliar feel of the cap, which prevented my sliding up alongside the down-pointing cervix. At the same time her cunt clutched the root of my tool and let go several times. ‘That’s it!’ she shouted. ‘Good fuck. Oh, yes, fucking yes!’

She held still for some seconds, then began to move up and down and again applied fingers to the clit. ‘Good. You didn’t escort bursa come,’ she said. ‘Stay hard. It won’t take long. I come again quick. Just get it wound up again. Like this,’ fingers striving. ‘Not long now. It’s coming. It’s coming. Fuck, it’s going to be a good one. Are you ready? Now! Fuck now!’

For a moment I wondered if I could, but she wrenched her bum forward and squeezed again, and that did it. I came.

She said, ‘I liked it. It went harder just right. So it was a good one.’

She sat back on my thighs and reached into the haversack to pull out a cloth, with which she wiped the sweat from her face. She rocked a little back and forth to savour the vestiges of orgasm. Then she climbed off and wiped between her legs.

‘There was a lot o’ that, eh?’ she said. ‘Not had much luck lately?’

She stood by the bed and began to dress. ‘I always have some clean pants,’ she told me, ‘Just in case.’ She got them out of the haversack. ‘Is there a bathroom around? It could do with a good wash first.’

I directed her to the bathroom, half hoping she might, bare-bottomed as she was, encounter a colleague in the corridor. But she was soon back, now knickered and as when first seen. I had meanwhile dressed and was ready to show her off the premises, though wondering how she was to get home. I didn’t care much, because while she had come twice, and was apparently satisfied, I had come only once, and without much preparation or preliminaries, and was left unfulfilled. Perhaps she would consent to a more consensual encounter?

I asked her, ‘Could you stay for supper?’

‘No,’ she dismissed the idea. ‘That’s enough for now. Maybe another time. When you bring your lads over to us.’

But I never did that. My history colleague took them a week later, and the next morning she said at breakfast. ‘Someone was disappointed not to see you yesterday. She was obviously expecting a return match.’

‘Well,’ I said, ‘The first one was rather disappointing.’

‘Not a classic game, then. I’m not surprised. Not been so good since our dear art colleague left, has it, Theseus?’

‘No, it hasn’t. So I just wish I could see Ariadne’s lovely bottom in real life.’

‘Oh, that,’ she said, ‘That stays hidden. Though, you never know, one day it might come forth, if you’re patient.’

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