A Lesson in Biology
Copyright© 2026 by Lubrican
Chapter 11
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 11 - She wanted to be a cheerleader but her grades were too low. Summer school might solve that problem. But she needed a tutor to make sure. Her mom got a name from the school and he was hired. When they got to the biology tutoring, she wanted to understand the reproductive system. He was happy to teach her about it.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft mt/Fa Mult Teenagers Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Harem Interracial Black Male White Female First Lactation Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Pregnancy Voyeurism
Delores was hinky about working for a woman she had just decided was her friend. But when Molly suggested Delores wander around the house, making a list of the things she thought should be done, she felt much better. When Molly wrote her a check for two months advance pay and a signing bonus of five hundred dollars, she felt bad.
“This is too much,” she said, looking at the check in her hands. It was more money than she’d had in her account in more years than she could remember.
“Isn’t it the employer who decides what the wages will be?” said Molly. “Do I have that wrong?”
“No, but ... I’m not even signing anything, yet you’re giving me a signing bonus.”
Molly got a pack of stick-it notes and handed Delores a pen.
“Sign right there,” she said, pointing at the two inch by two inch pad of hot pink paper.
“What am I signing?”
“Your name, silly.”
“I’m serious, Molly. You can’t just give me all this money. I don’t need charity. I don’t want charity.”
“If you think this is for nothing, you are sorely mistaken,” said Molly. “I will work you to the bone. I will crack the whip. Oh. Sorry. I will snap my fingers at you viciously until your work is done. You have a good start on your list, but I’m sure I can think of more for you to do. I’m quite sure the shelves in the garage have not been dusted in weeks and weeks.”
“Please, Molly. I’ll feel guilty as sin if I take this money.”
“All right. I hear people talking about reparations. This is my small part in reparations.”
“My ancestors came from Ireland during the potato famine,” said Delores. “I don’t know where they came from before that, but none of them were ever slaves.”
“Delores,” said Molly, moving right up to the woman. “I’m going through several highly emotional and stressful situations right now. I went to college and got a teaching degree, but I’ve never stepped into a classroom since I did my student teaching. I got married and didn’t have to work. Brad was rich before I met him. His money comes from old money on the east coast somewhere. He got his job through his father’s contacts. He probably doesn’t actually have to do any work, which is why he has time to bang his secretary, or intern or whoever she is. He doesn’t love me and I’m going to get divorced. I’m not as stupid as people think. I’ve been putting money into a savings account that is in my name only. Brad didn’t make me sign a prenup and he should have, because I have enough money in my savings account to hire a really good divorce lawyer. I already hired a private investigator to get proof of his infidelity and when I have it, I’m going to go for a split down the middle. This is a community property state and if I get half of what he’s worth I still won’t have to get a job and teach. Not that I’d inflict someone like me on poor, helpless children. I’ve forgotten everything I learned in college and probably couldn’t teach a seventh grader how to get his lunch out of his brown paper bag.
“And then there is Marcus. From my perspective, he is not just a black kid in high school. He’s brilliant and he’ll go far once he gets to the right college. Can you send him to college? It’s not a sin to say no. It doesn’t mean you don’t love him. All it means is that your husband abandoned you and you’ve had to raise three hungry children by yourself. You’ve clothed them and put a roof over their heads. From the little I know of the girls, they are as delightful as my daughter is. That means they can be a pain in the ass, too, but that comes with the territory. If I’m going to divorce my husband for infidelity, I cannot dissolve my marriage in good conscience if I’m guilty of the same thing. So I need your help, even if it’s only to keep me and Marcus from giving in to our desires. And if I do get the house in the divorce ... well, you’ve seen it. It’s huge. It’s practically empty. It has a ballroom in the basement that you haven’t even seen yet. Brad got this house to impress people and he has done so. I’m not going to use it for that, though. I don’t have anybody to impress. All I’ll have is a big, lonely house where the only other person there is my daughter and very likely the young man who will be making love to her on a regular basis.
“So please don’t make me beg you to come here, even if it’s only for five or six hours a day. I wasn’t kidding about having you live here. I would love to see this house filled with laughter and children and I have no one to give me any more children, other than a young man I’m not supposed to do that with. I need some companionship. You need a rest from the grueling life you’ve had to lead to take care of your children. I want you here for selfish reasons and I can afford to help you serve my selfish needs. This isn’t about charity for you. It’s about charity for me! You would be giving me charity in the form of companionship, and help resisting Marcus and who knows what else.”
She took Delores’s hands.
“So, what do you say?” she asked.
“You better not kiss me,” said Delores, as tears rolled down her round, brown cheeks. “I am not that kind of woman.”
“How do you know?” asked Molly, and she leaned forward to barely kiss her friend on the lips. It was just a brushing touch and then she stepped back. “I promise not to molest you. What I need you to promise is not to let me cheat on my husband with Marcus until such time as I have no husband anymore.”
“You’d really have his child?”
“Right now I’d sign a contract to give him four or five.” Now tears were rolling down Molly’s cheeks.
“Stop crying. Will I have to wear a uniform?”
“If you want to get a sexy maid uniform to wear for Marcus, that’s fine with me. I would prefer you not do your duties naked, but if that’s what it takes to get you here then fine.”
Now it was the black woman who stepped forward and hugged the white woman.
“Aren’t we a pair,” she sighed, rubbing Molly’s back.
“I hope so,” sighed Molly.
Delores’ children had mixed reactions to the news that she was going to quit her two jobs and go to work for Molly at the mansion.
“What do you mean, go to work?” asked Tasha.
“I’ll clean, and do laundry and make the beds and that sort of thing.”
“You mean you’ll be a black woman doing menial work for a white woman.” Tasha’s voice sounded ugly.
“Tasha, listen to me. Right now I have two jobs. Both of my bosses are white. Were you upset by that? No, you were not. You didn’t even care to ask about it. Molly is going to pay me more than both of my other jobs put together, and I’m going to earn that money, just like I earn it at the motel and restaurant. You girls will be able to buy some school clothes that don’t come from the thrift store. Yes, I’ll be working for a white woman. But I’ll also be working for a friend, who is lonely and wants some companionship. I’m not going to work every second of the day. She told me to decide what needs doing and take care of it. I’ll be my own boss.”
“I’m sorry, Mama,” said the girl. “I just don’t trust white folks very much.”
“You don’t have to change that. But I think you could learn to trust one or two white folks, don’t you think?”
“You mean Molly and Robin,” said Tasha.
“Yes. Everyone else will have to earn your trust. No, that came out wrong. I feel like Molly and Robin have already earned our trust. After all, they both know about Marcus and us, and they haven’t told anyone about it. They could have, but they didn’t. And I thought you liked Robin.”
“I do,” moaned the teen. “It’s just that we don’t hang out together at school.”
“Why not?”
“Because my social group wouldn’t accept her and her social group wouldn’t accept me.”
“Then form your own social group. Call yourselves The Misfits. You’ll be amazed how many other of your peers want to join a club like that. The Misfits accept anybody because everybody has some kind of worth. That should be your motto. Every person has some kind of worth.”
“That would probably cause a riot,” said Tasha. “Still, we only have one more year after this one and then it doesn’t matter what those kids think.”
“It doesn’t matter what they think now, as long as you have at least one good friend to stand beside you.”
“What about me?” asked Keesha. “Everybody knows Tasha is my sister and if everybody thinks she’s a freak then everybody will think I’m a freak, too. And I have three more years of high school.”
“So, you and your friends ask to become Misfits. Then, next year, when the seniors who started it are gone, you and the other misfits can be take charge and carry on the tradition.”
“Mom, we can’t have freshmen in our group.” snorted Tasha.
“You are judging them,” said Delores. “Wasn’t the whole point of forming The Misfits to get away from the judgement?”
“Oh.”
“True misfits will band together to protect each other, no matter what grade they’re in. That’s what will make the group actually work. Everybody is welcome, because everybody has worth. And the younger members will take over as the older ones graduate. Who knows? The Misfits might just become the most popular club in school.”
“That would be kind of cool,” said Tasha.
Marcus had sat back, letting the women talk. He also had mixed feelings. He decided to wait to talk to his mother later that night ... in bed.
“There have been a lot of changes in your life, recently,” he said, as he slid his long, hard bone in and out of Delores’ pussy, slowly and gently.
“I hope this never changes,” she said, as she clamped her legs across his butt and squeezed his member with muscles that had years of practice.
“It won’t if I have anything to say about it,” he said. “If you keep doing that I’m gonna cum.”
“Why do you think I do this if not to feel you fill me up with your warm seeds?”
“I thought you enjoyed having your own orgasms,” he said, moving faster. Each time he reached full penetration he tried to bump her clitoris with his pubic bone.
“I’ve already climaxed two times since you got rough and pushed me into bed.”
“That’s not the way I remember it,” he said, pounding her gently. “I remember you pulling me by my shirt and saying you wanted to talk to me about something.”
“I love watching you get undressed,” she panted. “I can almost climax just from watching your beautiful body become exposed.”
“I wanted to talk to you, too, but you first. What did you want to talk to me about?” he asked, going in deep and rubbing her clit.
“Pleasure before work!” she gasped. “Cum in me, Marcus. I need you to cum in me.”
She sounded urgent, so he gave her ten quick rabbit hits and then sighed as his balls released their soothing balm through his cock and into his mother’s receptive vagina. Her hands, rough from the kind of work she did, slid all over his back and she hugged him tightly as he inseminated her.
Thirty seconds later, knowing she loved keeping his cock in her as long as possible, he rolled them until she was on top. She sat up, which squeezed things enough that his softening penis stayed where it was.
“I love you,” she panted.
“I know. And I love you too, Mama.”
“I know and I feel so privileged to have been able to do this even though the man I wanted to have babies with abandoned us.”
“You’ll always be able to do this, and if he ever comes back, he’ll wish he hadn’t.”
“No violence,” she said. “The police love it when a black man is violent, because it gives them the perfect excuse to say they had to shoot him because he was too dangerous.”
“Whatever. It doesn’t seem likely he’ll show up after being gone seven years.”
“If he does, he’ll wish he hadn’t,” she said. “The police don’t shoot black women very often. We can get away with a lot more, as long as it isn’t directed at a cop or white person.”
“Why are we talking about him, anyway?” asked Marcus.
“What we do ... what you and your sisters do ... is supposed to be done with a woman who can take your seed and make a baby.”
“Are you asking me to impregnate you?” he asked, seriously. “Because the answer is I’d be honored.”
“No, you silly boy. I can’t go having my own son’s child. No, you need to find someone else to make babies with and I don’t mean your sisters.”
“And where would I find this mysterious woman who is eager to have Marcus’s sperm wiggle its way to her eggs?”
“We never know when opportunity may strike. That’s why I took the job Molly offered me. It was charity, but the kind one friend gives another, knowing that I will gladly reciprocate when she needs me to.”
“Molly is rich. She’s not likely to need anything you can offer.”
“That is where you are wrong, and I want you to learn this right now. I know your life has been made uncomfortable by white people since you could remember. I know you heard your father and even me cursing the white race. But the fact is, there are millions of white people who would happily treat us just like they treat each other. The difficulty is meeting those people in a setting where that seed can germinate.”
“Just say what you want to say,” he said, reaching for her breasts. They sagged a little, but her nipples still looked delicious and capable of feeding a baby.
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