Chapter 5

When I finally staggered into the kitchen, Mom was actually making coffee. She was wearing a different robe -- a clean one -- and her face looked tired, but not overtly depressed. A tiny bit of progress.

Alice was nowhere in sight.

Mom took her coffee and sat down at the dining table. That was also better than vegetating on the couch. I hunted around for something to eat. We didn’t have any eggs, so I had a bowl of plain cereal, as we also had no fruit.

Just as I finished up my cereal there was a pounding on the front door, like someone kicking it. I opened it to find Alice standing there with two big grocery bags in her arms. “There’s another two in the car,” she said as she breezed past me toward the kitchen.

I took the subtle hint and went out to retrieve the bags. As I put them on the table I thought about who had paid.

“Did Mom give you a credit card?” I asked.

“No worries,” Alice assured me. “We’ll square up later.”

I nodded. Alice was taking charge, no pun intended. That might just be the tonic Mom needed to relieve some of the pressure on her.

It certainly relieved a lot of the pressure on me to take care of my mother and try to get back to some normalcy in my own life. Maybe if I got back into my routine it would help Mom think about getting back into her own life.

It had been ten days since we got the news about my father and, other than some stretching and practicing various katas at home, I hadn’t put much time into my martial arts. I felt stiff and sluggish, mentally and physically, so that evening I got on my bike and rode to the dojo as I normally did. The sensei was politely welcoming, not going overboard with condolences or anything, and I had a good workout sparring with a couple of the other advanced students.

When I got home I took and shower and felt much better. Alice had cooked what she called a steak and Guinness pie, which was basically like a meat stew in a pie crust. I told her it was delicious, and even Mom enjoyed it.

Then I went on the computer to see what assignments I had been ignoring from school. At this point, math and science were pretty easy, and French was mostly grammar exercises and vocabulary. The big one was the portfolio I was supposed to be writing for English class about the career segment, which included creating a resume, an ‘application’ letter, and the essay about my parent’s business. Naturally, I was way behind and had not paid much attention to how I was supposed to put this all together. I was sure I’d be given some extra time to do the assignment, so I wasn’t worried. But I did want to get back into school, into my normal routine. I told Mom and Alice I would be going back in the morning so I was going to get to bed early.

Mom said, “That’s nice,” and Alice agreed it was a very good idea.

Alice gave Mom some more camomile tea (I think without the sleeping pills), and she went to bed about the same time I did. I had already drifted off to sleep when Alice slid into my bed.

“Alice,” I mumbled drowsily. “I really am tired.”

“I know, luv,” she said sweetly. “You don’t have t’do a thing. Just let me ‘ave a little prick lick, alright?”

It was still amazing to me. Here was this young, beautiful woman who wanted to please me sexually and I, a kid of fifteen, was telling her I wanted to go back to sleep. As she sucked and teased me so lovingly I wanted to ask her why she was so intent on pleasing me, but did I really want to take a chance on killing the golden goose? So I just laid there and let Alice have her will with me. I couldn’t have lasted more than ten minutes. She sucked down every drop I produced.

Then she got out of bed, kissed me sweetly on the lips, and said: “Ta. Nighty night.”

I fell asleep wondering how I had drifted into an alternate universe.

When I woke up I felt totally refreshed. It was early, and neither of the women were stirring. I had too much restless energy to sit around and wait, so I stuffed a banana and a couple of fig bars into my backpack, hopped on my bike, and took off for school.

I wandered around through mostly empty hallways. Of the few people I saw, most were upper-classmen who were involved in activities that did not include first-semester freshmen such as me. So, other than a few girls who looked at me and smiled, hardly anyone took any notice of me. I decided to go see if Ms. Stein was available to speak to about that assignment.

I knocked and heard her say, “Come in,” in that commanding voice of hers. When I entered and closed the door behind me, she took a big sniff of air and her tone immediately changed.

“Oh, Mark! I’m happy to see you again! Um, I mean, I’m glad you’re back at school.”

I shuffled over toward her desk. I noticed she was wearing thick trousers kind of like I saw old men wearing in ancient movies. However, her long-sleeved white shirt was opened a couple of buttons, so there was a trace of her cleavage that drew my eyes. “Thank you, Ms. Stein. I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Not at all! I was just about to write the day’s assignments on the board, but I can certainly spare as much time as you need ... that is, to catch up on things. I know -- well, I’m sure it must have been very hard for you recently.”

I guess my face kind of fell right then, because she immediately stood up and came around the desk. She put her hands on my upper arms, a worried look on her face, and I felt a tear slide down my cheek as my chin fell to my chest.

Ms. Stein gave another sniff, then a little sigh, and finally hugged me tightly to her body. She was still a couple of inches taller than me so my nose wound up deep in her cleavage. I could smell a faint trace of flowers, and she also inhaled deeply.

My mind was a jumble of conflicting thoughts: sorrow about my father, gratitude for Ms. Stein’s sympathy, and excitement that my face was being pillowed by those huge, firm boobs, even if she did have clothes covering them. I just stood there, stunned, until she reached up one hand to stroke the back of my head.

Ms. Stein cleared her throat, still hugging me to her breasts. “I, uh, could offer more comfort during a home visit.”

I raised my head up to look at her eyes, my mouth surely gaping.

“I mean, comfort about knowing what you have to do,” she insisted. “To help you get started on all that work.”

“Oh. Sure,” I gulped. “Uh, that would be great but, uh, won’t that disturb your ... well, husband, or whatever?”

“I rent a house with ... someone else. And I’ll make sure my roommate is out for this afternoon,” Ms. Stein said. “We won’t be disturbed.”

My mind was in a whirl. Regardless of how absurd I might have thought this possibility, there could be little doubt that Ms. Stein was offering to give me more than an English lesson. Thankfully, my martial arts training kicked in: Be calm, be cautious. No matter how clear the opportunity may seem, be certain before you expose yourself to danger.

“Wow. Well, that would be great. I’d appreciate any help you can give me.”

Ms. Stein quickly disengaged from me. She grabbed a pencil and paper from her desk and wrote a note.

“Here’s my address,” she said. “You have a bike, right?” When I nodded she said, “Good. Meet me there by three-thirty.”

I just stood there, staring at the piece of paper in my hand like it was a check for a million dollars.

She smiled. “I’ve really got to get ready for my first class now. I’ll see you this afternoon, right?”

I smiled back. “You bet!”

I walked out of that classroom not even knowing where I was going. During the day many of the kids I knew patted me on the back or expressed their condolences. All of the teachers (except Mr. Franklin) also said they were sorry for my loss. During class, Ms. Stein gave me a brief acknowledgement and then tried her best to ignore me. On the other hand, Ms. Dague was very commiserating, several times dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. I guess it was that French sensitivity.

Although the day seemed to pass like a week, the final bell rang as usual at 3:05. By 3:07, I was at the bike rack. I plugged Ms. Stein’s address into my phone and tried to pedal calmly. Since I knew she couldn’t get her classroom tidied up and get home before 3:30, there was no good reason to ride like a maniac and get there all sweaty and dishevelled. Still, I didn’t want to take a chance on being late, so I cranked it up a bit. Fortunately, it was a cool early December day, so I was in decent shape when I got there, not sweating too heavily.

I wasn’t sure if I should wait on the porch or keep a few houses away in case she had nosy neighbors, but just as I decided I should wait on the corner I saw her drive by and pull into her driveway. As the garage door opened she saw me and waved me into the garage behind her. There was an empty parking space beside hers, so I left my bike there, assuming the missing roommate would not be needing their space anytime soon.

The garage door was going down as she got out of her car, those long legs extending nicely even though they were encased by those heavy, baggy trousers. Although in class she had been wearing a shirt, now she had a heavy sweater over it that effectively hid her figure from the neck down. She still looked great to me.

We stood there awkwardly for a moment. She inhaled deeply and shuddered a tiny bit, but did not offer her hand. “Well, come on in,” she said as she turned for the door into the house.

We walked in to what I figured was the family room, which was open to the kitchen.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked. “We don’t have any soda.”

I shrugged. “I don’t drink soda. A Bai if you have it. If not, water is fine.”

Ms. Stein smiled. “As a matter of fact, we do. Is Blueberry okay?”

I smiled happily. “My favorite. Thanks!” I said, as she handed me one from the fridge.

She took another one out, I think a peach. Then she walked over to the sofa and sat down. “Have a seat,” she said.

She had left a space on the couch, but did not indicate where I should sit. I thought it would be too presumptuous to sit next to her, so I sat in a comfy looking recliner chair, although I sat up straight almost perched on the edge.

I took the cap off the Bai, had a small sip, and looked at her expectantly. She did the same thing. Hell, she was the teacher, so I waited for her to say something. She fidgeted with the drink, smiling nervously. Finally she let out a sigh and put her drink on a side table.

“Would you like to talk about your assignment, Mark?”

I put my drink on the table as well. As with my first experience with Kim and Opal, I decided it was time to get a little more assertive. I was pretty sure I had nothing to lose.

“Is that what you want to talk about, Ms. Stein? You needed to invite me into your house so we could discuss school work?”

She gave a little grin, almost sheepish, and cocked her head to the side. “Hmm,” she mused, obviously thinking about it. Her next words would tell me what decision she had made.

She leaned forward and looked directly into my eyes. “Naturally, you’re very discerning. And, as you have entered my home, Mark, I guess it’s probably best if you call me Ingrid.”

I imitated her movement. “Okay, Ingrid,” I said calmly, although my heart rate must be soaring. “What is it you wanted me to come into your home to talk about?”

She gave a little laugh, then inhaled deeply. She leaned back and closed her eyes as though savoring a taste of fine wine. “There is something ... intoxicating about you, Mark. I can’t really place it, but I certainly feel it. Right through my entire body.”

I almost leaped to my feet and shouted in glee. Instead I also took a deep breath, more to calm myself down than to suck oxygen, and nodded as if I understood completely. “Well, that’s very flattering, Ingrid. What are we going to do about that?”

She opened her eyes and leaned forward again. She had clearly made up her mind.

“There’s something about you ... Not just the things you wrote in that essay. There’s an air about you, like people talk about an aura. Whenever you walk into the room I can feel it, sense it. You’re very young, but I think you may just be the one.”

My brows furrowed. “Which one?”

“I dated guys in high school and college,” Ingrid continued, probably not noticing my confusion. “None of them lasted more than two dates. I want a man who can be strong, but tender. Someone who is firm, but sensitive and caring. Someone who is a tiger in bed, but still is concerned with my needs and desires. Do you think you could be that for me?”

I exhaled. Now that I’d heard what she wanted, I was almost in shock. It was like she was asking me to be her boyfriend! I was too stunned to think about it rationally. There was no way in hell I could be a ‘boyfriend’ to a teacher who was maybe eight years older than me, but my hormones were screaming “What the hell!”

I smiled at her like a total doofus, I’m sure. “Honestly, I don’t know. But I can certainly give it a try.”

Ingrid nodded. She stood up and held out her hand to me. “Well then, let’s find out, shall we?”

I stood and took her hand. She led me down a hallway. I could see a bathroom directly in front. On my left was a closed door. “That’s Ma-- uh, my roommate’s room,” she said with a wave. Just past that was another closed door. To my right was an open door into what looked like the master bedroom “That’s mine,” she said. I was a little puzzled as we walked past. Then she opened the second closed door on the left.

She paused for a moment and gave me a look I couldn’t read. “And this is the room that my roommate and I share.”

That sounded mysterious, but when she opened the door and I stepped in my eyes went wide.

There was a king-sized bed, but it was a four-poster. There were clearly chains attached to each post, with manacles at the end of the chain. Okay, the chains were thin and the manacles looked padded, but still.

As I looked around the room, things got a lot scarier. There were a couple of racks with things like paddles, whips, and other items I’m sure were meant for spanking or beating someone. There was a bench that held what were called ‘sex toys’, including fake penises with thongs on them. There were also other devices I had no clue what they were, but everything in the room screamed one thing: “PAIN!”

I didn’t even get all the way into the room. I turned on my heel and bumped into Ingrid, who was following me in.

“Wait a minute, Ms. Stein,” I said, and I’m sure my voice was shaking. “I don’t think this is a room I want to get into.”

Ms. Stein gave me a sexy, lust-inducing smile. She started to unbutton her shirt, slowly, maddeningly. I wasn’t about to stop the show, but I had already made up my mind.

Ms. Stein pulled the bottom of the shirt out of her trousers and spun slowly around, tantalizing me as she removed the garment. She exposed a silky white bra that pushed up those luscious breasts, proudly displaying her magnificent cleavage. She put her hands on her hips and smirked at me. My lips were dry, and I licked them once, then again.

“No, Mark?” she asked huskily. “Don’t you want the chance to get your hands on these big tits, to suck my rosy red nipples, to get down on your knees in front of me and lick my tight, succulent cunt?”

She reached back and unfastened her bra and dropped it in front of me. Her breasts looked just as firm and proud as Angelica’s, only they were mountains compared with foothills. Her aureoles were large, looking almost pink against that milky-white flesh, with nipples that instantly hardened in the cool air. I licked my lips at the thought of tasting them.

“And maybe,” she continued seductively, cupping her own proud breasts as though offering them up to me, “if you are a very good boy and learn all your lessons well, just maybe you will get to fuck me. Can you give all this up, the pleasures of my body, just to avoid a little pain?”

God, how I was tempted! Maybe just once I could put up with it, just to fondle that unbelievable body, to experience the ecstasy of pumping my hard cock all the way into that hot teacher’s cunt, which I was positive would be just as succulent and tight as she promised. But it wasn’t worth it to me; she would probably have been surprised at just how many other options I had.