Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Safe Sex, Teacher/Student,
Desc: Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Charlotte Speaks, a teacher of forty-one, has been fantasizing an affair with a male student for years. Finding a boy that she can't resist, Malcolm Wilcox,she begins an affair with him that becomes quite deep. The story was originally part of The Pastor's wife but confuses that story. So I am re-purposing it as a small stand alone series.
Charlotte Speaks in 2010 was a well-respected teacher at Madison High School in Teaneck, New Jersey. At the age of forty-one she had taught since her graduation from Fairleigh Dickinson University. She started out teaching geography as well as the QWERTY typing system. As time went along she was tapped to teach Trigonometry and Calculus which she had done for the last fifteen years. Recognizing how well Charlotte seemed to be regarded by the boys in her classes the administration asked her, at the age of thirty-five, to serve as a guidance counselor for boys from tenth grade through twelfth.
Charlotte had always been a star. She was a cheerleader in high school and did all of the important extracurricular activities. At college she was an A student, president of her sorority and student council. She was the typical "student most likely to succeed." Because she had married the starting quarterback of the Devils football team who had been drafted by the Canadian Football League with a very attractive pay package, she stayed home during the football season and started a teaching career in Teaneck, New Jersey.
Because Charlotte's husband would have been selected so far down the NFL draft that he might not have even been picked up, he accepted a bid from the Canadian Football league. His goal was to perform well enough in the CFL that, in his second or third season, he might be picked up by the NFL. But the money was good and he would be earning more than most college graduates, but not as much as an NFL pro.
His first season made him a star in the Canadian league and brought scouts from many NFL teams to his games. In the second game of the second season he shattered his leg. Though he was out for the season he still got full pay but spent the rest of the season as an injured observer while doing rehab.
When her husband got injured Charlotte considered that if Carlton wouldn't be able to make a career of pro football he could still get a good job. He was educated as an engineer and the hiring market was good for candidates with those skills. She was enjoying teaching and her husband's pay was still good enough for her to bank her entire salary. By the time he was fit to play again he was traded to a lesser Canadian team. It looked like engineering would be his career. Charlotte wouldn't have to worry about him being away so much during the football season.
Charlotte was one of the most sought after girls in her high school. Her looks, personality and her ability to make males feel like studs made her a "guy magnet." Her goal though was to remain a virgin until she got married. Though her resolve frustrated the boys she went with, particularly the sexually assertive ones, her aura and image was enough to be a feather in the cap of any boy known as "Charlotte Speaks' boyfriend."
When she went to Fairleigh Dickinson University it was the same thing. She was both sophisticated enough and wise enough to go just far enough with her special guys to keep them interested. By the time she was a sophomore, to those who were confident enough, she was incredible "wife material." Having graduated from light to heavy petting she drew the line at hand jobs through her guys' pants. If he was really special she would take his penis out of his pants and give him flesh-to-flesh jerks. But she never veered from protecting her virginity.
Carlton Speaks was a big man on campus, the star quarterback of the Devils football team. In the second semester of her sophomore year Charlotte and he were in the same philosophy class. When she came into the room on the first day she took a seat in the front row, always the last chairs to be filled. Far and away the most attractive girl in the room Charlotte's looks caused two males in the back row to rise from the chairs and come forward to sit on either side of her.
It was natural for her to have noticed Carlton. He was a popular athlete and always seemed to be in the presence of attractive girls, both black and white. Darker than most black guys he had stunning features. He was tall and had the musculature and looks of an African warrior prince. Unbeknownst to Charlotte, Carlton noticed her from the day she walked on campus. He had no trouble approaching or being approached by attractive women but, because of Charlotte's forceful presence, the star athlete was intimidated by her.
When she came into the philosophy class, which for Carlton was an elective, it seemed an easier and more natural way to get to know this stunning girl. For Charlotte, a traditional white girl, the fact that Carlton was an African American turned her on. As the semester wore on she was taken with his apparent confidence, his charm and intelligence. In the class the two of them were apparent leaders who, in fact, made the course more interesting for others.
It took Carlton all of two weeks to feel comfortable enough to ask her for a date. She had been so taken by him that had he not asked she was ready to approach him. It was just for a light dinner off campus but close enough to walk. On the front porch of the sorority house when they were saying goodnight Carlton reached out his hand to shake. Unlike the traditional Charlotte who never kissed on the first date she stood on tiptoes to kiss him. When he did she felt enveloped by his lips and almost melted. He asked her out for the next night and she accepted.
Before going to sleep that night Charlotte knew that with Carlton Speaks maintaining her resolve to remain a virgin would be the hardest thing she had ever done. Prior to this night there had been numerous hot dates. After each of these dates she masturbated and felt the pleasurable release, wondering what it would have been like to be penetrated by the boy she was excited by. Tonight she was ravenous, bringing herself to orgasm three times during the hour and half it took her to get to sleep. She had heard the college rumors of Spanish fly and wondered if this was what it might be like.
The next night was more intimate; Carlton excited her breasts, fondled her between her legs and slid his finger inside her. What's more he manipulated her clitoris and brought her to orgasm, the first time any male had done it.
Charlotte rubbed Carlton's penis, grasping and stroking it through his pants as she thought, Oh my God, how can anything this big fit inside me? She managed to get it out of his pants and continued to marvel at his size. In her mind at least it seemed so much warmer than any other male's penis she had fondled. Thankfully, yet in a way disappointing, he was too much of a gentleman to push it further. She worried, I wonder what I am going to do if he does.
It was Sunday afternoon in the athlete's dorm when both Charlotte and Carlton faced the dilemma. It was the first time she had ever been naked with a man. He was 6'4," dark chocolate in color and elegantly muscled. At 5'7" she had bright blue eyes, long auburn hair and a "peaches and cream" complexion. Her hour glass figure was willowy and she had a perfectly shaped bottom. Her breasts were somewhere in between a C and D cup, shaped like large tear drops, with M&M sized nipples centered in perfect areolas.
As Carlton undressed her she felt like a little girl. By the time she was completely naked (with him au natural as well) she felt so vulnerable that she knew her resolve had come to an end, wanting badly to feel him inside her. Just as the head of his huge black phallus was barely touching her two labia she saw her father (formerly a Presbyterian Minister who was now a corporate motivational speaker) and heard him say, "You have just one thing that can be either given to the man you love most, or taken by a man who will promise to be that man. You will probably love that feeling like no other feeling you have ever had. But when the man who has promised to be your, 'everything' walks away you will have lost this precious gift that is yours alone to give to that special person. You'll probably feel like a slut and a whore."
"No!" she said, grabbing Carlton's erection and turning it away. "I can't."
"Shit," he said, "You're nothing but a prom queen, prick tease, you bitch!"
With tears in her eyes she accepted his abuse. She was the daughter of a very unusual set of parents who, just before she had started her periods, took her away on separate weekends. Her mother explained the workings of the female body and its psychological need for sex. On a camping trip the next week her father—then minister of a church—spent nights in the tent and outside on long walks explaining the difference between males and females. He told her about the man's urgent need and how his ardor would turn to disregard after he had come. "In a way sweetie," he said, "when a man wants a woman he is an angel, when he is having her he is the devil incarnate. After he has finished he can be the most inconsiderate son of a gun in the world, more interested in the score of the Green Bay Packers game."
Showing his complete disregard for Charlotte, Carlton humped his cock against her belly and came all over it. After turning his back on her and mumbling, "No fuckin woman I've ever been with has ever turned me away like this."
After a while, when Carlton Speaks' gentleman side returned, he apologized and cuddled with her. He knew deep down that Charlotte was worth denying this temporary aspect of sex for. Besides, he knew he would get it elsewhere. But he wasn't prepared for what the woman who he intended to marry would do and say next.
She recalled that week with her dad and the lengths to which he went to help her understand the complex subject of sex. "As a minister baby," he said, "I have seen sex tear people apart. It doesn't have to be that way." She didn't fully understand what he was saying but she got the gist of it. "There are ways to keep your virginity intact Charlotte," he went on, "by using your hand or your mouth. I know you might think it might be dirty but it can really be quite wonderful. Sex for a woman is both physical and spiritual. Most women want to be in love with a man before having sex, and preferably one man. With a man sex is mostly physical ... like eating in different restaurants. But if you as a woman treat your man right and often enough, he will prefer your restaurant..."
To Carlton she said, "I thought I would lose my virginity today but I'm glad I held out. And I know I'll hold out until we get married—I want you to know that." Grabbing his flaccid penis she began kneading it. "I know you have had other women Carlton. I can tell by the jealousy in their eyes when they see us together ... lucky them." She was working him into another erection. "They can think what they want of me, I don't care. I only care about being true to myself."
He was fully erect. "I hope what I am saying to you Carlton doesn't cause me to lose you to another woman. But I want you to know there are not many women like me. So, when you need that kind of release find it with whomever you want. But when we are married I want you to think that mine is the best restaurant to eat at ... and, barring animals, I will cook whatever variety of sex you ask me to. (Her father had even talked with her about bestiality).
Having cleared that up Charlotte rose to her knees, bent over Carlton Speaks' long and thick erection, wrapped her fingers around it and took him deep into her mouth, bobbing on him for close to ten minutes before swallowing the abundant volume of his climax.
The first year of their marriage was idyllic. With the loose acceptance of sexual matters in his own upbringing Carlton was impressed Charlotte's parents' liberal outlook. One day while having beers after shooting skeet her dad admitted to his son in law that he and his wife were involved in swinging. "That's the main reason I left the ministry, son" he said with a chuckle. "It wouldn't have worked for my parishioners to find out about Maureen and my scurrilous sexual attitudes."
Carlton had the best of all worlds: Charlotte was not only a willing and creative sexual partner; she nearly wore him out while he was at home. And when he was gone he had permission to enjoy the groupies that lusted after pro athletes in the quest for their "superman" sperm. Because of her open acceptance of a traveling pro's sexual escapades he could enjoy himself without pressure or guilt, which made his time at home completely enjoyable.
Charlotte's life was filled with joy. She loved being with her husband and loved having time to herself as well. She always thought she would be a great teacher and was finding out just how much she loved it. Being involved with youth was a particularly enjoyable endeavor, which convinced her that she was having a significant impact on her students.
Because she had denied herself the full enjoyment of sex through college she found that sex with Carlton was heavenly. She knew that the likelihood of finding a young man who was as sexually sophisticated as her husband was practically nil. Because her parents were so open about their sex, and their attitudes toward it being so avant-garde, she had been able to accept their concerns and warnings about giving it away too freely during her youth. It often caused her to smile whenever she admitted to herself that her husband could have been a gigolo like Don Juan. Any woman he would make love to would be receiving a gift. And because she was getting most of it she only felt slightly jealous of the women who remained anonymous to her.
The one concern Charlotte had was that Carlton's humongous bulk would be too immense and too hurtful for her when he finally pushed it inside her. As a matter of fact, had he been smaller in bulk, she might have let him do it. But fear always made it easier for her to stop him. On their first night of marriage though, by the time he pushed himself inside her she had had so many orgasms that she was always opened wide for him after that. Except for the momentary pain of his piercing Charlotte's veil of virginity their first copulation was pure heaven.
As she progressed in her teaching the same was happening with their marriage and the sex they were having. He never talked about his exploits while away and Charlotte never questioned him about it. Her one caveat was: "Don't bring home any diseases."
It was the evening after the day when Carlton and her dad went skeet shooting the first time, when told his son in law that he and his wife were swingers. Carlton asked Charlotte, "Were you ever aware that your mom and dad had sex with other couples?"
"They never told me in so many words," she said. "But one time when we went to the Poconos for a week ... it was the first night ... something happened that I have never forgotten. I was about thirteen and had just really begun to explore my body. We were in a cabin and the adults were outside drinking wine at the picnic table. When I went to bed Mom and Dad were on one side of the table and Dan and Marta were on the other side—there was a fire in the fire pit. I woke up about a couple hours later and went to the bathroom. It was dark and I could see the embers of the fire still glowing. The window was kind of high and I had to get up on tippy-toes to look out. Dad and Marta were sitting together, they were kissing. Dad had his hand inside Marta's shirt fondling her breasts. On the other side—the side facing me—Dan was sitting on the bench with his legs spread outside the table seat. He was leaning back. I could see that his lips were all open and twisty like he was moaning. Mom was on her knees and her head was bobbing up and down in his lap. I saw Dan's whole body tense and, through the glass, I heard him shout, 'OH GOD.' Then I heard Marta laugh and say, 'I want some of that.' Mom stood up, walked around the table to Marta and kissed her."
"What were you thinking?" Carlton asked.
"I was confused. I really didn't know what they were doing. But I knew—if you know what I mean. I couldn't go to sleep, my pussy was wet ... I didn't know why. That was the first time I masturbated to orgasm. And I couldn't help wondering what it would feel like to have a man's penis inside me. I was too young to know about oral sex but, after seeing my mother sucking Dan that way I constantly had the desire to know what that feeling would be like for me."
That night Charlotte and Carlton's sex was extra special. Going sixty-nine seemed to take on a new meaning. The next morning Charlotte woke Carlton up with a blowjob. As she painted circles around his dark nipples with his creamy white sperm Carlton asked, "Have you ever thought of having sex with another couple?"
Kissing him and depositing the remnants of his semen in his mouth she moaned, "Mm-hmm."
After Carlton's injury life became more intense. He was laid up for a month during which Charlotte gave him as much TLC as she could manage beyond her teaching duties. Thereafter, 'til the end of the season he was required to be on the sidelines with the team. There he watched as the second string replacement became the team's star. When he was home during that season the joy of sex they had experienced during their first year of marriage had morphed into a different kind of TLC—psychological support.
During the time he wasn't playing Carlton pursued his rehab obsessively. He brought himself back into what he thought was top shape. But before the end of the season he was traded to another Canadian team. At the next team, rather than being given the starring role, he was relegated to back-up quarterback where he saw little action. By the end of that season he was traded to another team where he didn't play.
Charlotte tried to convince him to give up on football and start his career as an engineer. But Carlton wouldn't give up on his dream to be famous and rich. He also started having sex more often with other women and not as much with Charlotte. Then he began pressuring Charlotte to join in threesomes with some of his women friends.
She knew from overhearing conversations between her mom and dad that her mother enjoyed bi-sex. Secretly she fantasized having sex with other women but resisted the urge, thinking it inappropriate. But when she finally agreed she found that she loved doing it. She also found that she was as much a voyeur as a willing participant. But she didn't like the way the Carlton's parties were becoming drunken affairs. And she didn't like the way Carlton was coming home drunk on a daily basis.
Finally getting a job as an engineer he was arrested one night for drunk driving and spent the night in jail. After that he had to pay a huge fine and spend a year going to AA meetings. But he didn't stop drinking. He lost his job but got another one. Then he lost that one too because he was often inebriated at work.
Charlotte tried to work through it. She supported him when he was not working but knew he was spending his time with other women instead of her. Fortunately she became friends with the first woman Carlton had her do a threesome with, Gabi Guthrie.
Though her relationship with Gabi became intense it didn't solve the problem of not having sex with Carlton ... until she finally got so pissed off at him that she threw him out. He was contrite at first and, to keep from being thrown out again, made Charlotte his sexual project. She quickly tired of that as well and made the break, suing him for divorce.
After the divorce Charlotte vowed never to marry again. Throughout her courtship and early marriage she thought she had married her dream and would live happily ever after. The first year was great. After that it started becoming harder, finally a nightmare. When she broke with Carlton she downscaled, moving into a one bedroom apartment. Gabi Guthrie, who had long since tired of Carlton for the same reasons that Charlotte had, kicked him out. She suggested that she and Charlotte share an apartment. Charlotte told her, "No. I love being with you Gabi but I'm afraid that people, particularly those at school, might think we are lesbians." At the time there were societal constrictions on homosexuality.
She had always loved her career as a teacher, enjoying it even more after becoming a guidance counselor. She had always loved being around teenage boys when she was young. Now, she found it even more enjoyable. Though it was always legitimate and even pure, there was a naughty side to her that would have liked to have broken the rules—not with every boy—but with some of the more exotic or sophisticated ones. She knew though that even the hint of playing around with minors for whom she was responsible would be playing with dynamite.
She needed sex but didn't want to become attached to any male. Gabi had a number of male friends who were more than happy to be involved with such an exciting, lovely woman as Charlotte. She had everything going for her. Initially, like so many divorcees, Charlotte wanted to just fuck her brains out. Gabi's friends filled that bill and even were involved in some of their threesomes.
After living on the edge that way for a couple of years though she finally tired of it and wanted to become more settled. She knew she would never marry but needed something more stable. Soon after becoming guidance counselor (she was 35 at the time) Jim Giordino, the Science teacher—a very good friend of Charlotte's—experienced a tragedy. His wife came down with early onset Alzheimer's disease. Within six months of her diagnosis she became so absent that Jim faced either taking care for her at home or enrolling her in a special needs home that specialized in Alzheimer's patients. For all practical purposes Giordino was faced with living out his life as the husband of a woman who was simply a ghost of herself.
As a friend Charlotte helped Jim deal with his misfortune. She was a compassionate colleague who became his steady companion. It was only a matter of time where their relationship became more involved. Giordino did the honorable thing and remained married to his wife. Charlotte would not marry but needed to conduct herself as a sexual person. Giordino wanted sex with respectability. Everybody at school and those who were aware of his circumstances treated his situation as compassionate adults. They supported the friendship and the sexual dilemma of the woman who wouldn't get married and the man who couldn't.
In many ways it was an almost perfect relationship. Both Giordino and Charlotte had a confidant with whom they could share their most intimate thoughts. Jim was open minded and even lustful about Charlotte's relationship with Gabi Guthrie. He would sometimes even share in their frolics. He even understood Charlotte's fantasy of enjoying sex with some of her more promising students and never judged her for it. It was his understanding and counseling that kept her mind straight in her not actually realizing her fantasy.
"Look Charlotte," he would say, "In their wildest fantasies all teachers want to make it with their students. But the chance of finding a student with whom it would be absolutely safe is more than you can expect. But, I bet you as a woman could get away with it easier than I as a male ever could."
Though she agreed that it was a wild fantasy that would never be realized the itch seemed to become more intense as the years passed. At thirty-five, like many women, Charlotte thought she was getting over the hill. She spent more time looking at her naked body in the mirror, noticing how with each year her breasts seemed to sag more. She had never had children—never would—at least that seemed to mitigate the deterioration of her body. While she had always been flirtatious she seemed more so, particularly with her students. And she got a peculiar thrill knowing that these young studs were ogling her rather spectacular body. She hoped they were masturbating with her in mind.
On her thirty-seventh birthday Jim Giordino and Gabi Guthrie had a party for her. They had a lot of wine and a lot of sex. As they were coming down from the high Charlotte got maudlin about her age. Both Jim and Gabi told her she was out of her mind. "You've got the most beautiful body in the world," Jim said, to which Gabi agreed.
"I bet every one of those students are beating off every day while thinking about you," Gabi Said.
"Fat lot of good that'll do me," Charlotte replied. "They can fantasize all they want but the teacher is off limits. Besides, I haven't found many who I would really be interested in."
"Come on now," Gabi said, "This is your friend Gabi speaking. Do you mean to tell me that not one of them has ever flirted with you and made you fantasize enough to rub your clit into an orgasm?"
"This ought to be interesting," Giordino said.
"No way," Charlotte answered.
"Look at us," Gabi responded. "We're all in this mussed up bed after fucking each other's brains out and you're telling us that you don't fantasize about any of your students?"
"We've had this conversation before Charlotte," Jim said. "You can admit your sins to your best friend, the one who is lying naked beside you and has just sucked the cock that filled your cunt with my seed."
Charlotte had spent the last four years in this strange and kinky relationship with Jim and Gabi. She could see herself going through life with these two friends and being quite happy, she loved them both. Had Giordino not been safe she could have married him. She thought about the fantasies that she indeed had about certain students. And, yes, she had masturbated more than once thinking about some of these particularly sexy youths. But she realized the value of fantasy and the shallowness of it as well.
But there was one boy, a very unusual young man who seemed to be developing all the sensitivities of a full grown adult. What's more she seemed to spend a great deal of time thinking about him. Yes, I've masturbated to fantasies of him and can't believe how often I have made myself cum. I would do it in a minute with him. But let's face it, unless he was to ask me, it would never happen ... and thank God for that. "There is one," Charlotte said, voicing her thoughts. "When Jim's not around my finger is often this young man's dick. But he will forever remain nameless."
There was something about this young man that was special; she had known him since he was in her Trigonometry class. She met his mother and was extremely impressed with her, though she thought Agatha Wilcox was a bit too prim and proper. I wonder if all pastor's wives are like that. She had been exposed to numerous PKs—preacher's kids- and found them often to be more problems than she wanted to deal with. But Malcolm was both mature beyond his years and exceedingly well adjusted. Disturbingly, he had a way of holding her gaze and smirking that made her feel like he was flirting with her.
"This kid's driving me crazy," she once told Jim Giordino by simply referring to the otherwise nameless young man as Mallory. "Sometimes I feel tongue-tied when Mallory's in my class. And by the time the bell rings my panties are sometimes damp."
"Red Alert, Red Alert!" Jim said with a grin. "You had better start wearing Depends, or even a chastity belt." Mallory became a subject of his jokes, particularly when Charlotte became especially wet during their sex. "Is George Mallory (the famous British mountain climber) climbing your mountains again?" he would ask.
One day in class Charlotte was having fun with her students. She called on Wilcox to solve a problem on the board by saying "You're up Mallory." When he stood to come forward she noticed that his face was bright red. As he moved toward the blackboard she could see his hands crossed at his crotch as if to hide something. When she realized that he was indeed "up," that he had actually been fantasizing about her, it was all she could do to not blush.
Defensively she said, "I'm sorry to have made fun of your name Malcolm."
It was about a week later when she opened her mailbox to find an envelope addressed in a familiar hand. There was no return address. On a plain sheet of paper was a typewritten poem:
He scaled peaks both high and low
This famous man of history
Ne'er fearing for his life or limb
Yet vanished in such mystery
With heart in hand I take my stand
In fear of purgatory
Are the peaks I seek as worthy
As those holding G.H. Mallory?*
*Mallory vanished climbing Mt. Everest in 1924
When Charlotte showed the poem to Giordino he said, "Frankly my dear, Mallory seems to give a damn. I think Charlotte that you might be getting yourself into deep shit. Maybe you should ask that he be assigned to another counselor."
The school year ended two weeks later. All summer long Charlotte was haunted by having called Malcolm "Mallory" and watching him come forward in the classroom sporting an erection. She knew he wrote the poem, she recognized his writing. But how can this kid be so god dammed confident? She knew he'd been flirting all along and was still astounded that he could hold her gaze so fearlessly. What made it worse is that he really turned her on.
The first day in that fall term she was even more astounded when she found a note in her box that read, Dear Ms. Speaks, I have a serious question that I need to ask my counselor. Can we set up an appointment for after school today? Mallory.
Charlotte told the school secretary that Malcolm Wilcox would be checking into the office. "Give him the message that I will see him in my room at 3:45"
All day she was in a dither, stammering in class and making mistakes on the blackboard. One of her students said, "Are you alright Ms. Speaks?" Placing the class on their honor she went to the teacher's lounge for a few minutes to collect her thoughts and try to get her erratic breathing back into synch. She was a very popular teacher with all her students. When she got back they were concerned that everything was alright. The boys of course fantasized having sex with her. The girls looked at her as mentor and an older sister figure. Looking quite young for her age, none of them expected that she was over thirty.
Nervous, she was waiting at her desk when Malcolm Wilcox walked into the room. She couldn't imagine what kind of question he would have to ask her. Typically it would have to do with his curriculum requirements for college. As a sophomore he was a bit young to have questions about college but it had come up with others. She sensed that whatever was on his mind was much deeper. "Why have I led him on," she asked herself?
She had grown accustomed to male students ogling her and, in the way she looked back in an aggressively, stern manner, she could easily diffuse that. The fact was that, even though she reacted that way, she loved it. But with Malcolm (even as a ninth grader) there was something deeper about this young man; his ogling came out as deep analysis. Though she knew better she would sometimes allow herself to swim in the pools of his eyes. I wonder, she thought if he even realizes what he's doing. And she could never experience this without feeling moisture gathering between her legs. And that poem! Castigating herself for jokingly calling him Mallory, and thought of the words, "Are the peaks I seek as worthy ... As those holding G. H. Mallory?" she wondered is he referring to my breasts?
"Ms. Speaks?" She jerked with a start. "I ... I didn't mean to startle you," the boy said in an apologetic tone.
Her voice was tight as she said, "You didn't Malcom. I was wrapped up in difficult calculus problem." Jesus, my panties are soaked. Why did he have to come here today? "Sit there." She indicated a chair in front of her desk.
"So," she said, trying to segue into some kind of comfortable dialogue, "Did you have a good summer?" The conversation was choppy, each telling something they did.
Just when she was ready to query what the Wilcox boy had come to ask her about Malcolm asked, "Did you get my poem Ms. Speaks?"
"Um, yes I did Malcolm." The silence was awkward before she said in a threatening, discouraging way, "Why on earth young man did you send it to me?"
"You called me Mallory Ms. Speaks." Clearing his throat he went on, "I ... I wanted to let you know that I knew who George Mallory was. And I wanted you to know that I ... I ... write poetry."
"Have you been writing poetry long?"
"It's the only poem I have ever written."
When she quoted: "Are the peaks I seek as worthy ... As those holding G. H. Mallory?" Malcolm's face turned red.
"By peaks I was referring to your superior intelligence Ms. Speaks."
It was her turn to blush. Either this young man is very quick, quite sincere or both. Whatever, I have to put a stop to this. "I apologize for misreading the intent of your words Malcolm. But it is not appropriate for you to write poetry for a teacher that could be construed by the administration or the PTA as romantic." Giving him a sincere but brief smile she said, "Personally, Malcolm, I loved the poem. But there will be no more. Do you understand?"
Gathering papers on her desk to indicate that the interview was over she expected to see disappointment on his face. But he kept his seat, his eyes gazing intently back it her. His expression was neither hang-dog nor challenging. "By the way," she said, "I apologize for making fun of your name Malcolm. It won't happen again."
"Mallory?" he asked. She nodded. "I loved that you called me the name of a great man. The guys were asking me what you meant. I told them you were joking. I wrote the poem that night." Subtly he lowered his eyes for a second, looking directly at her breasts. "I wrote it as a way of praise, not disrespect."
She couldn't keep from turning bright red and said, "Never again Malcom. Have you got that?" He didn't respond. "I guess we'll call this meeting over." She expected him to get up and leave but he just sat there.
Any other boy his age would have lowered his eyes in defeat and would have gotten up to leave. Malcolm's were still swimming deeply in hers when he said, "My mother calls me Malo. Dad says it's too soft, like a marshmallow. But I like it. I really love Mallory though. It's not soft in any way. He died there ya know—Mallory?"
"Yes, yes," she answered trying to rush the meeting. "I think..."
Interrupting her he said, "But the reason I asked to meet with my guidance counselor, Ms. Speaks, is that I have a very serious problem that I need some help on." All summer long he had prepared for this meeting and vowed that he would follow it through no matter what the consequences. He knew Charlotte Speaks liked him—really liked him. Courageously he plodded on.
Having gone through puberty he had been masturbating every day, often as many as three times. He had been going to his room during the day. The feelings he had for Charlotte were the same ones that had grown in him for his mother. Both women were strikingly attractive women. Both related with him in a very mature way. Each time he went to his room he left the door open a crack in hopes that his mother would walk by and catch him masturbating. She knew that he was, from hiding she often watched.
Before Charlotte Speaks could throw him out of her room he blurted, "You might think this is weird Ms. Speaks, but I have been um ... I have been um ... I don't know who else to talk with this about it but um..."
Morphing immediately into her professional role Charlotte's attention became riveted. She wondered if the boy might have been molested or something. "Don't be embarrassed Malcolm. Just tell me what it is that you are trying to say."
"Um I have been um," he hesitated just like he had practiced so many times. "Having..."
"I've been having fantasies of having sex with my mother." He said it as if it were all one word.
She was blown away by what she thought she heard. "Can you say that a little more slowly Malcolm?"
"Geez Ms. Speaks this is so hard. Um ... I have been having fantasies of having sex ... with my um ... mother."
She had had one such conversation with another boy in the past that brought the same dilemma to her. But it was still incredibly hard for her to deal with. She thought of the woman she had met with twice now, the woman she had seen at the supermarket. She thought she was very attractive. But she seemed so prim and proper. How could a woman like that have any thoughts of illicit sex with her son? Malcom had said it bold-faced, gazing deeply into her eyes. She wanted to crawl under the desk. At the same time her nipples seemed to be tingling.
"Should I tell my mother Mrs. Speaks? My father is a minister, what if he found out?"
Taking a deep breath she eased it out and said, "It is not uncommon for children to have taboo (she wanted to make sure she used that word) feelings toward their parents." She wasn't prepared for what crashed down next.
"I think my mom wants to have sex with me."
She knew that what he was talking about was way above her level of expertise. It went deep into the dialogue about teenage boys and their raging hormones, and how surreal thoughts sometimes washed their brains. She spent the next half hour telling him about exercising more: taking cold showers, positively denying the feelings ... and incest's taboo implications and illegality. Finally she said, "I hope the conversation has helped you Malcolm."
He replied, "It's good to get it out in the open with someone you admire and trust. Thank you for being so understanding. Geez Ms. Speaks I thought I would never work up the courage to tell you."
When he disappeared beyond the door she mumbled, "Phew! That was the hardest thing I have ever done." For the first time she realized what the intensity of the Wilcox boy's magnetic gaze was all about, whispering, "And the little bastard has been undressing me all the time."
After school she met Jim Giordino for a drink and told him about what had happened. He laughed and said, "The little bastard is a calculating son of a bitch, isn't he? He knows you're getting hooked on him."
"I'm not Jim," she said, her voice seething with anger.
"From your mouth to God's ears Charlotte," he answered with a chuckle.
"Can I come over to your place Jim?"
"Later you mean?"
"No; now ... I'll stop and get a pizza. Do you have beer?"
When she got to Giordino's house she set the pizza on the table, dropped to her knees and unzipped him, sucking him fiercely until he came in her mouth. It was midnight when they reheated the pizza and cracked the beer.
"That boy's really got your number Charlotte." He said. "We have never made love this fiercely, unless you consider the time you showed me that poem. Looks like ole Mallory is going to assault your peaks Ms. Everest."