Letters Around Midnight (3 page)

The meeting finished and the wife and their son left, leaving John and I at the table. I was surprised they didn't leave together and then John explained they had been divorced for several years and things were still strained between them but they attended PT evenings together for their son's sake. He let out a deep breath, slumped back in his chair and admitted it was a tough evening. We laughed and when I said I had finished for the evening, he offered to walk me to the entrance of the school. He apologised for his ex and we made small talk as we got to the car park. There were still other parent-teacher meetings going on and there would be until much later in the evening. We walked through the deserted car park. I remember it was dark and the floodlights were on. When we got to my car, there was one of those embarrassing silences you get when you run out of conversation. My ardour had cooled but I still fancied him. We said goodbye and he leant forward to kiss me on the cheek. Nothing sexual, a simple peck.

I don't know whether it was intentional or not but we paused, both leaning in towards each other, letting the moment linger. I felt my nipples stiffen. There was a split second; a moment too long to remain strangers but long enough for an unspoken signal to pass between two people who were about to launch into something wild.

“You know?” He whispered into my ear,

“I always fancied you.”

We were standing there, our cheeks hadn't yet touched. I could feel the heat of his face. He slid the corner of his mouth to mine, and then when I didn't pull away, he slid his lips fully onto it. My tummy turned to water and I kissed him deeply, pressing my body against his. He pushed me back against my car and I put my arms around his neck, feeling his hardness pressing up against me.

I pulled him away from my car and into a corner of the building where we would be out of sight. We kissed again and his hands explored my body, running up and down my spine and cupping my bottom.

We were kissing hard when I heard the fire door open around the corner. I could hear the Headmaster directing people away across the car park. John and I pulled apart, both breathing hard. I had a flash of inspiration; pressing my finger to John's lips to tell him to be quiet, I stepped around the corner and asked the Head to keep the door open as I had forgotten my keys. As he held the door, I pretended to rummage in my handbag. The Head stood there impatiently looking at his watch. It was obvious he had to get back for more meetings so I told him to go on ahead and I would make sure the door was closed. He disappeared back inside.

I held the door and when the other people had walked past John, not seeing him in the dark, I called him to me. I held his hand and pulled him through the fire door. We ran on tiptoe down the corridor to my classroom. It was the same room I had taught John in all those years ago. My heart was racing.

I unlocked my classroom door and pulled John inside. I spun him around against the wall. I pressed myself up against him. I kissed him and cupped his crotch in my hand. He was beautifully hard. I was horny as hell and feeling naughty.

I couldn't believe what we: what I was doing. I felt a tingling thrill run through me.

I leaned up against him, crushing my breasts against his chest and whispered into his ear

“Ever wanted teacher?”

His pants went down quicker than he ever did algebra, I can tell you. I slid my hand around the bulge in his boxers, feeling the weight of him. He had the biggest balls I think I've ever known on a guy. They were hot, tight and heavy as hell. I traced the shape of him through the fabric with a fingernail, seeing the agony of anticipation flicker across his face. A small bead of sweat formed at his temple. It trickled down his cheek. I licked it off and pressed my lips to his ear.

“You want teacher, don't you?” he nodded furiously. I bit into his neck making him gasp reflexively, and then ever so slowly pulled away from him. The heels of my high heeled boots clicked on the linoleum as I stepped backwards.

His hungry eyes never left me as my hands unbuttoned my dress slowly and parted it for him. I stood, legs firmly planted, hands on hips letting him see all of me. He ripped his shirt off and tried to come at me but I pushed him back up against the wall. Teacher wasn't finished with him yet.

I put one hand against the wall over his shoulder and slid my other hand down inside his boxers and released him. His cock sprang out. I pressed my body up against his so I could feel his skin on mine. His cock was stiff and warm against my tummy. It was hot in there and we had both started to perspire, making our bodies slippery against each other. I felt the beads of sweat trickling down my spine. I worked the flat of my hand between his cock and his stomach and slowly brought him off against me, moving my tummy from side to side and rolling it with my hips. God, I wanted to feel his cum on my skin and boy, did he oblige. He shot short spurts all over my tummy. I felt his knees giving way, his mouth buried at the corner of my neck and shoulder, grunting as he came. I rubbed his cum into my skin and licked my fingers, the soft fragrance of it was intoxicating. I was lost in the moment, the sheer forbidden nature of it. He spun me around and pushed me up against the wall,

“My turn, Miss,” he whispered and plunged his hand inside my panties. It didn't take long, I can tell you! I was so hot, I came practically straight away. He had me pinned up against the wall with his body, his hand holding me up by my crotch, his fingers still working against me as I came. I twisted my hands into the fabric of his suit, eyes tightly shut, trying desperately not to cry out. My breathing came in huge gut-wrenching gasps. It was unbelievable. My knickers were absolutely soaked.

 

***

 

Jean giggled and leaned back swinging her foot lazily over her knee, her shoe dangling from her toes. She gave another spoonful of ice cream the Jean treatment. I hadn't begun to eat mine yet. I sat there thinking. The scene was still playing through in my mind. It had caught my imagination. All I could offer by way of comment was,

“Wow.” It felt inadequate as an expression but was all I could muster.

“How do you feel now?”

“Regret I suppose. I hadn't appreciated the attraction of younger men before: but, better late than never.”

The waiter came back,

“Ooo, can I have another scoop?” Jean asked.

“Certainly Miss” he said. We watched him leave, staring at his bum; and then we collapsed in hysterics.

 

 

I had driven all the way down to Bournemouth from London. I was tired, but the sea air was going to do me the world of good and, quite frankly, I was excited to be meeting Alexa again. We had planned to hook up at her flat in the evening but she had called during the drive down to say she was working late. She wouldn't be finished until after ten o'clock, so we agreed to meet up at the restaurant of my hotel to give us the chance to chat, she could eat, and then go straight home to bed.

Alexa's mother and I had been friends at college and I had met Alexa at one of her mother's drinks parties. Alexa told me she was working as a pupil at a set of barristers' chambers in Bournemouth. She cross-examined me fiercely when she found out about my stories, asking loads of questions. The kind of women who tell me their most intimate secrets, why I thought they did, what did they get out of it. She was genuinely interested when I told her of the stories I had gathered over the years. After a while, I managed to turn the tables on her and asked why she didn't have a man in tow. She is, I have to say, a striking young woman.

“Oh, I'm between men. They're a distraction,” she said.

“There isn't enough time to work and play; and besides, I can do without a man at the moment.”

I was interested in how a girl with such strident views on the necessity, or otherwise, of men in her life could be interested in my blog. I didn't have to wait long to find out. Alexa called me a few days later to say she had been thinking about my stories and would be interested in telling me of an encounter she had had. She expressed surprise when I offered to come down to see her.

“I always prefer to take down stories face to face.” I had explained.

When people are describing their own intimacy, personal contact is much better. You get nuance of meaning and body language that you lose on the phone. Watching people talk about their intimate moments is endlessly fascinating to me. A look, a gesture, a shift in posture, a fleeting moment of sadness or joy can relay so much more when you are across the table from them. I often get the feeling I'm an erotic vampire living off the intimacy of others; but hey, what the heck, anything for a good story.

Alexa flew into the restaurant even later than she thought she would. She was a buzz of energy and concentrated poise, and every inch the young professional woman I remembered. More petite, and definitely thinner, but she had to be taken seriously.

“Oh God you're not going to tell me I need to eat properly are you?” She had obviously caught the look on my face.

“You'll sound like my mother.”

“No, I'm just thinking what a marvellous suit,” I lied about what I was thinking, not about the suit.

Alexa certainly knows how to power-dress. Black suit, white blouse, killer heels and the right amount of jewellery to say success not bling. She sat primly at the table. As we sat making small talk, I caught a glimpse of stocking top as she crossed her legs and the flash of a luxurious lining in her suit jacket. She folded her coat carefully on the chair next to her, preening it as if she was an exotic bird of prey.

Interesting, I thought. Prim on the outside but a hint of the exotic if you dug deeper. Another reason why talking face to face gives you an edge to the story.

Alexa grabbed the wine menu and ordered an expensive bottle of wine to get us started.

The waiter returned and went through the ritual of showing the bottle, peeling the seal, pulling the cork and offering Alexa the wine to taste. She held the glass to the tablecloth looking at the wine through the glass, swilled it, sniffed it and pronounced it acceptable. He poured two glasses and retreated.

“God that's good” she hummed to herself.

“Now” she said fixing me with sharp eyes and a smile

“To business.”

I have to say I was dead excited about what Alexa was going to reveal to me. What dark erotic moments did she have locked away that she needed to express? I could imagine her in all sorts of romantic situations with high flying execs, lawyers, businessmen in all sorts of fascinating places around the world. I was getting giddy trying to hold my concentration. If she could get me into such a frenzy, what the heck could she do to a man in bed? I sat all a quiver, transfixed as she began.

 

***

 

I was still at College working as a legal assistant in another part of the country. I had a summer secondment with a firm I had the option of joining when I qualified. The pay was good and I needed the money and the experience. University life isn't cheap and firms prefer it if you have shown an interest in working during the holidays.

I was twenty and clueless in the bedroom. I hadn't had many experiences with men, work at College was too damn hard. The guys at University were okay but they were all so into themselves it was painful. I certainly wasn't going to get involved with any of them. So my sex life was thin to say the least. I wasn't necessarily looking for someone. I am a great believer in things happening in their own time, but if no-one decent came along, I would have to take things into my own hands and go out and get a man.

Anyway, the firm had a big case on, acting for the insurers of a large engineering company. It was a huge claim for damages. As the company had gone bust, the receivers had been called in. A firm of accountants had been appointed to sort out the financial mess. As they had taken all the documentation offsite and stored it in an old bank building, we had to search any documents relevant to the case. The solicitor in charge asked me and this other student to go to the building and look through the boxes. I was annoyed as it was a hot day and I was wearing a light summer dress. The boxes were going to be filthy; but I didn't have time to change. This other student, Matthew, and I met down at the store. I hadn't noticed him before in the office but he was okay, tall and slim; fine hands. He looked shy and was probably as inexperienced with women as I was with men.

We got into the building and there was this mountain of treasury boxes.

I mean a real mountain. These things were stacked to the ceiling and covered half the banking floor. We didn't know where to start. We looked at each other and laughed. The guy from the accountant's office stared at us, wished us luck and said he would be back to close up. Other than that, we were on our own and had to get on with it. There was a loo and a small kitchen, but that was it: us and these thousands of boxes.

Matthew and I had to do our best. He started at one end of a pile and I started at the other and we agreed to meet in the middle. You looked in a box and if there was anything interesting you had a rummage, and if not, you carried it to the other end of the room, restacked it and went back for another.