Chapter 35: Sally Springer's Secret

Marriage was not all that it was cracked up to be. At least, if your bride was seven months pregnant and away at her grandparents' to have your baby it wasn't. And anyway, Bob had been getting bored with Priscilla. He'd still enjoyed her body, her belly, swollen with the child contained therein and her large breasts now humungous, made for a great ride but she hadn't seemed to enjoy it any more. And definitely she was no longer tight. The Philipino girl was a pleasant change and her control of her internal muscles continued to amaze and excite him but he wanted a change from her slender body and her skilled ministrations. Damn. It had been months since his last cherry, the lovely Indian girl, Madhuri.

Bob surveyed his classroom, speculating on which of the tempting teens might be ready for further education. Becky was appealing but he could tell that she was getting it already. Likely from the preacher. Madhuri kept looking at him with those big, dark eyes but he'd picked up some bad vibes from her brother and he suspected that there was more danger in fucking her than she was worth. And of course Priscilla and Leena were both gone.

While Bob Best was studying the adolescent girls in his classroom, one of those girls was studying him, but in a different way. Sally Springer had not attracted the lecherous attention of her teacher because, when she arrived at the school as a late enrollee, Bob had been fully occupied with the Wilson family. Lucinda, Priscilla and little Leena had been more than enough to keep his prurient urges under control. Or at least to contain them within his landlord, Reverend Wilson's household. Otherwise the nicely rounded, thirteen year old girl would have been a subject of sexual speculation by her libidinous and unprincipled teacher.

If Mr. Best had made a move three months ago Sally would likely have been shocked and frightened. With the teacher's skill and experience he would have probably easily overcame the girl's apprehensions and played on her newly emerging sexuality and she would, by now, be as boring as Marie or as dangerous as Madhuri. But he hadn't and Sally was still a physical virgin. Psychologically, however, her vestal state had been damaged and her physical purity was also under siege.

Would he be anything like Dave? What would have happened if her mother hadn't caught them? And her mother had treated her as if she'd got knocked up like Ellie did. She remembered how her mother had acted towards her sister, Ellie after Uncle Frank was gone. She'd called her a little whore as if she'd invited Uncle Frank to her room and asked him to knock her up. But she'd have never let Dave get that far. Mr. Best must have done it to Priscilla when she was still one of his pupils so... ?? Could she get him to do what Dave did? He was always so nice to her and he was her teacher so she knew she could trust him.

Bob's eyes came to rest on the pretty, plump girl in the back row. Damn. Now that was a nice looking piece. Good tits. Great tits. And that pretty, rosebud mouth would be special. And she was looking at him. What was she thinking? Actually, her eyes had a far away, dreamy look.

And, in fact at that moment, Sally was far away and dreaming. She was remembering the first night that Dave came to her bedroom. They'd been drinking... her mother and Dave... and they'd had a big, noisy fight. Sally had heard her mother slam the bedroom door and lock it and heard Dave go to the living room. It wasn't the first time he'd had to sleep on the couch. And the thirteen-year-old girl would rather have that than have to listen to the way they carried on when they didn't fight. Was sex really like that? Did it have to have all those awful words and moans and cries?

Sally heard Dave moving around and then he was outside her bedroom door. He went away, came back, than went away again. When the door finally creaked open and Dave peeked in, the girl stiffened with apprehension. Ellie told her that Uncle Frank had started out by just coming to her room after fighting with Mom. Dave never turned on the light. He walked through the dark room slowly, deliberately, with eerie precision, and from her bed Sally watched him. There was nothing she could do. He stood over the bed looking at her and then he sat down on the edge. His weight made her body shift towards him. She couldn't help it. Her hip met his hard thigh and she froze with the contact.

The frightened girl tried to pretend sleep but it was no use. She was sure the gasp she had made when their bodies touched gave her away. Would he leave if she asked? Sally was afraid to say anything so she just lay there.

His hand began to caress her hair in long strokes, while he told her in hushed tones how pretty she was. She felt paralyzed. She could feel and hear and in the dark room lighted only by the hallway light she could even see, but she didn't dare to react. He never stopped speaking. He was saying soft, quiet words, talking about her beauty. "You're a lovely girl, Sally... lovely and beautiful." His deep voice had a hypnotic effect and she quit listening to the words and only heard the hymned rhythm. Her eyes sluggishly shut.

When his hand moved from her hair, she hardly noticed. She was caught up in the hypnotizing hum of his voice. When his fingertips inched down her breast and snagged on her distended nipple, her eyes opened widely in a fixed stare. And still he didn't quit. Over and over he told her how beautiful she was and how large and lovely her breasts were. Her hands were clenched in tight fists and her fingernails dug into her palms as a voice in her head shouted at her "stop him" but she remained immobile in stony silence.

His big hand molded around her precociously large breast and tenderly massaged it. He moved his rough palm over the very tip of her nipple and the fires of adolescent sexual arousal surged through her and she shuddered from it. And still he murmured on. "You have such wonderful breasts, Sally. If I hurt you, tell me and I will stop."

But she didn't say anything and he didn't stop. He flattened his other hand on her stomach and let his middle fingertip push at her belly, forcing a gap in the elastic waistband of her panties. And then his hand slipped through the gap. His soothing voice continued to boast at how lovely she was. How lovely and sweet. Oh so sweet. He lightly stroked his fingers through the beginnings of her pubic hair that had recently started growing. His fingers inched right to the spot that was beginning to burn with a strange, new feeling that tingled and throbbed.

The ingenuous virgin's heart raced and she felt feverish. A slight buzzing vibrated in her ears as her breathing became disjointed but she remained still. Scared. Excited. Anxious. Violated. But motionless. Was this how Ellie had reacted with Uncle Frank?

The man's hand flattened against her vulval region and his middle finger again led the way. It jabbed at her tightness and tunneled its way inside. He dug until he hit that itchy spot. He crooned how sweet, how slippery and sweetly ready she was. "Oohhh yesss Sally... you're so soft... so soft and wet and slippery." Was he going to? Would she be like her sister Ellie and be knocked up before she was through Middle School?

On and on went his words of how beautiful she was, how lovely, how good. She wanted to believe him even though she knew better. And on and on went his touching, soft, gentle and deliberately slow. Something was building inside of her. Climbing, growing, becoming bigger and making her breathless. She knew she should stop him, or at least try to, but she needed it to go on. She started to panic. She couldn't breathe. He continued to draw tiny circles. Finally she tried to speak, to tell him she couldn't breathe, that she was burning, that what he was doing was wrong, but all that came out was short puffs of air.