Flossie's Revenge - Cover

Flossie's Revenge

Copyright© 2007 by Lubrican

Chapter 17

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 17 - It was 1960, in the segregated South, and Flossie found herself in a situation where, quite unintentionally, she advanced the cause of integration in her one room school house by twenty years. The town banker was determined to ruin her life, while forbidden love entangled both her and her students in its color-blind tentacles.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Consensual   Reluctant   Heterosexual   Historical   Incest   Rough   Interracial   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Pregnancy   Voyeurism   Slow  

The next day was Saturday. Harvey spent most of Saturday mornings with the papers he hadn’t had time to read during the week. Sometimes he made appointments on Saturdays, with people who didn’t want to miss work during the week to do banking business. Marian did some baking on Saturdays, and on this day insisted that the girls begin learning that craft.

Nathan announced that Luthor was finally going to teach him how to fish. His father snorted, but didn’t say anything. His mother made him wait long enough so that she could make him some peanut butter sandwiches to take with him. She put those, an apple and a banana in an old flour sack and handed them to him.

“Remember, I don’t clean fish,” she reminded him, smiling.

He picked up his ‘painting clothes’ from out back, and stuffed them into the bag on top of the victuals, and headed off down the street in the opposite direction of Flossie’s house. Once he turned the corner, he simply pedaled around the block, approaching from the other direction.

She answered the door with a smile. She had already been painting, and the smell wafted out the doorway.

“I brought my painting clothes,” he said. “I need to change into them.”

She took him to her room, and left him there, closing the door. As he got undressed he looked around. This room looked more like a home. There was a beautifully worked quilt on the mattress, which was supported by a sturdy metal frame. The walls had been covered over with wallpaper. It was cracked where the boards underneath joined, but the light floral pattern still made the room seem much brighter than it was outside in the living area. There was no closet. The single window was actually just a fixed frame with four panes of glass in it, that had been fastened to the wall, covering a hole. It didn’t open, but it let in some light. Shelves had been nailed to the walls, and her clothing was neatly arranged in piles. There was a bra hanging from a nail, and as he looked at it he thought of his sister’s bras, which looked exactly like this one. He stared at the cups, knowing they had held breasts, and felt his penis twitch. For the first time he thought of Flossie as a woman first. He tried to imagine Flossie, standing in this room, wearing that white bra. She would obviously look different than his sisters when they were naked, but he could only think of black skin, without any detail.

He realized he was lollygagging, and got dressed quickly. He had to shove his penis up and to one side so that it didn’t bulge so clearly.

The images stayed in his mind when he went outside and began to paint. He found himself darting looks at Flossie, seeing her as a woman in ways he never had before. He realized that, even though she was his teacher and much older than he was, her small stature, and smooth lines made her look more like she was nineteen, rather than...

“How old are you?” he asked, not thinking the question might be inappropriate.

“I beg your pardon?” she asked, looking over at him strangely.

“Um ... sorry ... I was just thinking that you don’t look much older than Ruth Ann.” he fumbled vocally.

“Why thank you.” She grinned. “Let’s just say I’m older than twenty-five.”

“Wow,” said Nathan. “That’s a quarter of a century.”

She gave him a mock glare. “You don’t have to put it that way!”

“I wasn’t trying to be mean,” he said, flushing. “You just don’t look that old, that’s all.”

She laughed. “I can see I’m going to have to give a class on tact. If you go off to college and say things like that to the women you meet, you’ll never get a date.”

That reminded him of the letter he’d gotten from the Kansas City Police Department, and he told her about it. She was elated.

“Well, the grades won’t be a problem if you keep on the way you are. You’re a very good student when you put your mind to it. I’m so happy for you.” She looked and saw the uncertainty on his face. “It is good news ... isn’t it?”

Then he told her about the reaction to the letter at home.

“Well, I know that mothers never want their children to leave the nest,” she said, “but it’s a wonderful opportunity for you to find a life of your own ... and help others too. You’re almost a man now. She can’t expect you to stay home forever.”

“This becoming a man thing isn’t as easy as I thought it would be,” he said, morosely.

“Being an adult isn’t easy,” she agreed. “It’s the challenge that makes it interesting, though.”

They painted for a while, and she announced it was time for lunch. That reminded him of the sandwiches in his bag. He admitted that he had told his parents he was going fishing.

“What are you going to do when you come home with no fish?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll just say I didn’t catch anything.”

She laughed. “They’ll never believe that. Fishing is very good in these parts.”

“Oh, they’ll believe me,” he said confidently. “I’ve never been fishing in my life. You could fill a book with what I don’t know about fishing.”

“You’re joking,” she said. “You’ve never been fishing?”

“Nope,” he said.

“Well, you can’t lie to your parents,” she said firmly. “That’s not right. You’ll just have to go fishing, like you said.”

“I don’t even have a pole,” he said helplessly.

“Then you’ll have to use mine,” she said.

“You have a fishing pole?” he asked, incredulous.

“I have two!” She grinned. “And I ... am going to teach you how to fish!”


There was a creek not far away. It was, in fact, Foster’s creek, the same creek that Johnnie Sue, Jesse, and Luthor were, at the moment, skinny dipping in. The three had arranged to go fishing too, and were in the process of getting the more serious business they planned out of the way before they fished.

This time there was much less horseplay, and much more sex play. They had gone to a good fishing spot, rather than the usual swimming spot, because they didn’t want anyone else to come along with the idea of swimming and either catch them or interrupt their sexual mission.

Johnnie Sue was, at the moment, the “meat” in a sandwich, with Luthor in front of her, and Jesse behind her. Both boys were rubbing their naked bodies against her, and she had two hands full of hard pricks, jacking them erratically.

“Can I kiss you, Johnnie Sue?” asked Luthor.

“Why do you want to do that?” asked the girl, who was a complicated mixture of experience and innocence.

“Daddy and Mamma do it all the time, and they seem to like it a lot,” he said.

“That’s true,” she said, thinking of her own parents.

Their first attempt was both tentative, and left them feeling vaguely unsatisfied. They tried it again, bumping noses, and learned to tilt their heads. Then Johnnie Sue turned around.

“Now you,” she said to Jesse.

“I can’t kiss you, Johnnie Sue,” said the boy who was fondling one of her titties.

“I want to see if you feel different,” she insisted. “Your lips are bigger.”

Then, instead of waiting, she pressed her lips to his. It took him by surprise and, rather than tensing up, like Luthor had, his whole face went slack. Johnnie Sue decided his lips did feel different ... softer ... with more give in them. When she pulled back his eyes were wide open.

Then she tried to explain the differences she had felt to Luthor, and kissed him again, telling him how to loosen his lips to approximate what Jesse’s had felt like. Then she kissed Jesse again. This time he did tighten up, and she scolded him, telling him to kiss her that other way again. He didn’t know what she was talking about, so she had to tutor him too. It would have made for good comedy.

But, within ten minutes, they had decided that this kissing part was a good thing. Now, as she stroked them in the water, she kissed one, and then the other.

She was leading them out of the water, a stiff rod firmly in each hand, as Flossie was leading Nathan along the bank of the creek, toward the fishing spot she remembered from her childhood. The three youths they stumbled upon, weren’t making much noise at that point.

Flossie did, however, hear something that sounded like a moan, almost of pain, and stopped short, causing Nathan to run into her from behind. His hands went to her waist automatically to keep them both from falling. Flossie had been carrying both poles in her left hand. With her right she reached out and moved a thickly leafed elm branch down. Both she and Nathan, looking over her shoulder, could see into the clearing on the other side.

Johnnie Sue was on her knees, stroking Jesse first, while Luthor stood by watching, his own hand squeezing his cock.

“Don’t you do it,” said Johnnie Sue, glancing up at Luthor. Jesse went up on his tiptoes, about ready to get his orgasm. “I want to make you spurt.”

Flossie watched in horror as Johnnie Sue, stark naked and on her knees, masturbated Jesse to what was obviously a powerful orgasm. He leaned back and moaned, his hand going to Johnnie Sue’s head to keep his balance. Flossie was so flabbergasted that she was frozen in time, her eyes watching as Johnnie Sue lovingly milked Jesse’s prick, even though nothing was coming out. Jesse sat down on the grass, and Johnnie Sue turned to reach for Luthor’s penis. He jutted his hips, obviously offering himself and she started stroking him too.

“I’m gonna squirt real fast this time, Johnnie Sue,” he gasped.

“Good,” said the girl. “I love making you squirt.”


For Nathan, seeing this happen evoked complex emotions in his mind. These were other students, in the same school as he was, and, while he knew them well, he had never thought of them in this scenario. That part was strange and exciting. Seeing a girl, doing to them what his sisters had done to him, somehow validated his own behavior, even though these classmates were not related by blood. That was exciting too. Having his hands on a woman’s waist, and watching this erotic scene was also exciting. It was probably because of the combination of all that, that when Flossie did begin to move, with the obvious intent of making their presence known, and no doubt stopping what was going on, that Nathan’s grip on her waist tightened. He leaned in close to her, the front of his body touching her back, and whispered in her ear.

“Wait!”

Had he had the time to think things through, he wouldn’t have said that, of course. If he had allowed his social indoctrination to steer his actions, he would have been subservient, the student, in the presence of the teacher, while she corrected inappropriate behavior being conducted by other students. But his reaction was emotional, rather than that of a thinking mind.

She froze.

Had Flossie had the time to think things through, her reactions to the situation probably would have been different as well. She would have been the teacher, correcting the inappropriate behavior. But her own emotions were in a turmoil too. While she was quite aware that the situation needed to be addressed, seeing Johnnie Sue and the boys doing something they had obviously done before and were very comfortable with was a way of looking at her students she had never dreamed of. The ease and skill with which Johnnie Sue had manipulated Jesse was erotic in a way that drove straight to Flossie’s loins. Then there were the strong hands on her waist, which she had felt unconsciously, at first, and the feel of a hard body pressed into her back ... a male body ... touching her like she hadn’t been touched before. While there was nothing sexual about Nathan’s body pressing against hers, there was a feeling of intimacy about it that made that erotic too, somehow. When his hot breath whispered in her ear, she felt her nipples crinkle and tingle. In short, part of her wanted to wait ... and peek ... voyeuristically participating in the behavior she was observing.

What complicated things in her own mind was that she paused.

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