Chapter 10

I had many panicky moments in my life, most of them since my accident, like the first day starting a new school after missing two and a half years. But right now, being led by Mrs. Johansson by the hand to her bedroom topped that list. My heart pounded and my legs were weak as I forced one foot in front of the other.

It’s not that I didn’t want to go. I was terrified.

Now that we were in Mrs. Johansson’s bedroom, she sat on the side of the bed and tugged me down with her. She gazed into my eyes. That longing look was back, immersing me in her green eyes. I noticed the gold flecks for the first time. I had never seen them in Tiffany’s eyes, but had never drowned in Tiffany’s eyes like I was now in her mother’s. Tiffany had never had that look. Not with me, anyway.

Releasing my hand, Mrs. Johansson grabbed the back of my head with both hands and pulled my mouth to hers. My tongue immediately entered her mouth to find hers waiting and eager. We kissed passionately, moving our heads and moaning. Soon one of Mrs. Johansson’s hands left my head and traveled to my back. Her curled fingers clutched my shirt. I felt her urgency in her grip which caused me to pull her more into my body. I hugged her so tightly that I feared she wouldn’t be able to breathe. Her breasts squished into my chest more than they had when we had danced earlier. They were flattened against me. I actually rotated my shoulders up and down and side to side to feel them more.

Mrs. Johansson pulled her head back and gazed at me with glassy eyes. She panted through an open mouth. Her chin glinted with spittle. Hers or mine? Probably both.

“Do you like them?” Mrs. Johansson asked.

My forehead creased. “Like what?”

“What you’ve been rubbing against.” She grabbed my hands and pulled them to her breasts. “These.”

“God yes!”

“Would you like to see them?”

Not able to speak, I nodded. An enthusiastic nod.

Mrs. Johansson reached behind her neck and unfastened the clasp to her dress. As she lowered the zipper to her tailbone, the farther it traveled the looser the dress became and the more it fell away from her body. It still covered everything, but knowing it was open in the back sent shivers to my body and between my legs. Ever so slowly, with a sexy grin, she flicked one strap over her shoulder and then the other. The dress settled on the upper swells of her breasts with the top edge of her bra peeking out. When she wiggled her shoulders, the straps dropped to her elbows and the dress to her waist. I stared at a black lacy bra. The tops of her pale breasts bulged above it and her pearl necklace made it look that much sexier.

Mrs. Johansson pulled her arms out of the dress straps and reached behind herself again. She unclasped the bra. It instantly fell away from her breasts, dangling in front of them, teasing me by not showing everything. And then she slipped the bra off and flicked it to the side. It floated to the floor. Not that I was watching that. My eyes were fixated on her now uncovered breasts. They were round but still stood out firmly. The areolas were darker than her skin, but the nipples were even darker. A deep reddish brown. Which was striking on her pale skin. And they were long and thick.

“Do you like them?” Mrs. Johansson asked, thrusting her chest out.

I couldn’t tear my eyes from her breasts. And I couldn’t speak. Once again tongue-tied. But now for a different reason. So I nodded with my mouth gaping.

“You can touch them,” Mrs. Johansson said.

I lifted my hands, spread my fingers, and placed them on her breasts. The hard nipples tickled my palms as I curled my fingers and squeezed. Her breasts were firm yet pliant as my fingers sank into the flesh. Mrs. Johansson moaned. When my eyes left my hands to look at her face, her head was thrown back. Her eyes were closed and her mouth open. I watched her face as I squeezed her breasts. Puffs of air burst from her parted lips as she panted.

I wasn’t clueless about sex. I had Sex Ed in school and found plenty on the internet. But other than using my own hand and the one time I had squeezed Tiffany’s butt, that was the extent of my experience. I may not have done things, but I knew about them. I leaned forward and, after taking my left hand off Mrs. Johansson’s right breast, I replaced it with my mouth. Mrs. Johansson gasped and her hand flew to the back of my head, holding it there. Not that I had any intention of moving it away.

I sucked as much of her breast that I could get into my mouth while squeezing the other one. And then I squeezed the base of her right one while sucking the nipple and areola with pursed lips. Like a baby seeking milk. Mrs. Johansson’s gasps turned to moans and her fingers curled in my hair on the back of my head, hair that was conveniently long to cover my scar. But when my tongue flicked the nipple, Mrs. Johansson shrieked.

I jerked my head away thinking I had hurt her. Her head was tilted back with her mouth wide open. Her eyes were shut and her nostrils flared. She panted so hard her shoulders rose and fell. It scared me. She looked possessed. And then her eyes slowly opened, her mouth closed, and she gazed at me.

“Why did you stop?” Mrs. Johansson asked.

“Didn’t I hurt you?”

“Oh, Cody, it was heaven.” Mrs. Johansson’s eyes suddenly focused as if awakening from a dream. She looked around the room and then down at herself. “Let me get this dress off before it gets ruined.”

Mrs. Johansson got off the bed and, with her back to me, shimmied the dress down over her hips and rump. It dropped to her shins. I stared at her backside only a foot away. It was covered in black panties. They were skimpy, so plenty of skin showed, plus thin enough to tease me with the shadow of her crack. She stepped out of the dress and bent forward to pick it up, not bending her knees much. That thrust her butt at me.

I couldn’t tear my eyes off her backside which was now even closer to my face. I probably could have leaned forward and kissed it. With her being bent over, the black nylon stretched over her buttocks. And with her legs parted as she bent forward, I was staring right at the crotch of her panties.

As Mrs. Johansson walked to the closet where she hung up the dress, my eyes were locked on her panty-covered backside. But when she turned to walk back, my breath caught. There it was—the prominent mound pushing out the front of her panties. My eyes were glued to it as she walked back to me.

“Aren’t you going to get undressed?” Mrs. Johansson asked.

My eyes were still fixed on her turtle shell mound. Now only a foot away from me. I forced myself to tear my eyes from that spot to look up at her. All she was wearing was the black panties and her pearl necklace and earrings.

I unbuttoned my shirt and threw it onto the floor, leaving me in my undershirt. I then tore at my belt buckle, opened my trousers, and, lifting my butt off the bed, shoved them down. When I leaned over to remove them, my forehead bumped into Mrs. Johansson’s prominent mound. I thought I would climax right then. She stepped back to give me room and I frantically struggled to untangle my pants from my feet.

Mrs. Johansson giggled as she dropped to a knee. “I think these need to come off first.”

She flipped my shoes off and stood back up. The pants now came off easily. I also took off my socks, leaving my clothes in a crumpled pile on the floor.

When I looked up at Mrs. Johansson, she was staring at my lap. I followed her gaze to see my hard cock sticking out of the opening in my underwear. I frantically shoved it back in.

“I thought you had a big one,” Mrs. Johansson said. “I was never close to you at the pool, but from where I was, it looked big. I’m glad I was right.”