Chapter 2

Into my life wandered Alan. Alan Zachary Barrow, to be exact. It's not like he just popped up. He was a senior and I had been his class sponsor since he was a freshman, as new teachers always were assigned freshman classes and moved up with them. I had also taught him junior English. Alan was a real unusual case from the standpoint of the school. He was a large boy, well over six feet, was very quiet to the point of being an introvert, excelled as an athlete, and was a straight A student. Yet, he was considered by the district to be an "at risk" child. This was due to the financial status of his family and the fact that there had been a few minor brushes with authorities. Nothing major, just little things.

He was a bit of a mystery to the other kids since, as attractive as he was, he never dated and shunned most social events. I think it may have been because he was older than them. Earlier in his childhood his family had moved a lot, causing him to be set back in school. He was pretty late in his nineteenth year when he graduated, barely making it under the age limits allowed in Texas for him to participate in school activities. Rumor had it that his real social life was in a much larger town fifty miles away and that there he was referred to as "The Zack."

He also lived with a legacy. He lived with his mother and his aunt. Both of them were in their mid to late thirties and very, very attractive. His mother held a low paying job at a local firm. The reason they were in the town had to do with a local state prison. A lot of the townspeople worked there, but Alan's dad was in there. From the story, he had been caught in an armed robbery attempt years ago and was serving a term there which would keep him in another four or five years. His mom had moved them close so she could visit, never swaying from their marriage commitment. His divorced aunt had moved in with them soon after that in order to share expenses.

Because of all this, the small school had a special interest in his successful graduation and considered Alan to be a prize possession. Even the superintendent showed interest in his graduation. I'm not saying Alan picked up on this and abused it, but there were certainly times when he did or said things that would have normally been brought to the attention of administration but was instead swept under the rug by teachers who didn't want to be the one rocking the boat.

My personal involvement with him began when he volunteered to help build sets for our plays. It's very difficult to get anybody to help with this, and as long as I gave him tasks to do on his own and didn't try to have him work as part of a group, he was masterful. I couldn't believe how creative he was. Then one night, while we were working with some other kids, I heard this voice starting to sing. Always being in a constant search for talent, I immediately started looking for the source. You can imagine my surprise when I discovered it was he, quietly singing to himself while wearing headphones. Two things came to mind; one, here was this great voice that I would never get to use because it was too late, and two, what he was singing.

When he finally realized I was there, he looked at me sheepishly and sort of smiled as he took the headset off. Without saying a word, I reached out my hand and he handed me the unit. I opened it to find a CD of Tony Bennett. And that's how Alan sounded.

"Don't tell anybody." That's all he said.

"I won't, but I sure wish I had known over all these years."

"Sorry."

That was the end of the conversation, but after that he started opening up to me. He was within the last semester of graduation so maybe he didn't see me as a threat. Maybe. On the other hand, it was soon after that the touching started.

Being touched by my male students was not new. I had been warned about it during my teacher certification classes and had been spoken to a number of times by experienced and wizened teachers. Especially the females that were really attractive. They told me that with my age and looks to expect and learn to tactfully deal with the attention of the boys and that they would know no bounds. It was true. I lived a constant life of kids looking up my dress, down my blouse, brushing my breast, touching my ass. They all had a crush on me and it became a way of life. It actually turned my husband on. He asked me daily if anything happened with the boys. I would always make it much more tantalizing than it really was, but I didn't tell him about the amount of attention that came from other male teachers and administrators, which was substantial. I thought that was best kept to myself.

Alan's attempt to become close to me was met as a welcome challenge. I really liked him and when he opened up it revealed a quick, knowledgeable humor. He knew more about the stage than any student I had ever had, even though he had no interest in performing. His abilities and work habits became apparent within weeks. Unlike the others, I could count on him being where he was suppose to be and doing the work that he was assigned. He lived near the school and it became normal for him to show up without warning when he saw my car parked there. More and more, I was finding myself alone with him. He seemed to have a knack for knowing when I would be working on a project that, in order to assist me, would cause very close personal contact. Although I silently backed off at times, the feel of Alan's hands on me and the slight tingle of his breath on my neck became commonplace and uncomfortably pleasant.

The mistake I made came early on a Saturday morning. Since Daryl routinely worked a half a day on Saturdays, I got into the habit of getting up early, just throwing something on, and going up to the school to work on the props for the play. On this particular morning, for some reason, Daryl was feeling his oats and just before he left for work bent me over the kitchen table, lifted my short robe and gave me a "slam bam, outa here" fuck. It left me feeling good in a "hanging" sort of way as he walked out the door. Deciding not to wait to start on my project, I just threw on what I had worn the night before at home which consisted of a very loose fitting blouse and a pair of loose shorts. Having not bathed, I put back on the skimpy excuse for a bra that I had worn for him the night before and didn't bother with panties.

It was barely eight in the morning when I stood in the little school theatre looking at my project. I had to staple a large hand painted background on to a wooden frame and I had to get it right the first time. After looking at my options for a while, I decided my best course and started to work. I hadn't been on it two minutes before I was startled by a soft, familiar voice.

"You're going about that all wrong."

"Alan! What brings you out so early?"

"Couldn't sleep last night. Went for a bike ride and saw your car."

"So, what's wrong with my plan?" I was more than willing to have a second opinion. I was not surprised when he showed me an easier way, but it would take two people to do it. Without a word, we started.

It was going to have to be done in two phases, both parts requiring us be on our hands and knees. The first session had us facing each other as we worked. We went at it with a friendly banter and it was going well. We were in to it for about ten minutes when I couldn't help but notice the attention I was getting. Suddenly I realized that the blouse I had on was very loose and open at the top and Alan had an unobstructed view. He was getting a tremendous dose of those twin pendulums hanging down, large and tanned and restricted only by skimpy transparent cloth that was little more than a joke. When I was standing up, the bra allowed the very tops of my nipples to be exposed. Hanging freely, no telling what he was treated to.

It was decision time, but I had few options. I could ask him not to look, but that didn't quite make it. I could stop for a while and go home to change, but that was the same as telling him he had been caught. I decided that the damage was done and I would just bare through it. I don't know if he planned it or not, but the procedure we were doing required me to concentrate carefully on what I was doing while he was at leisure to watch me. I'm sure he never took his eyes off my breasts the whole time.

By the time we had finished that part, I will admit to the little sensations starting to tingle through me. It wasn't that I was trying to or wanted to tease him, but try as I may I couldn't help but react to the attention I was getting. It didn't help any that Daryl had not only left me stranded on a high, but his semen was still seeping slowly out of my uncovered pussy and drying in a thin crust on the inside of my thighs. A little thought crept through my mind. When we were dating, it seemed like there was a very distinctive smell coming off us after we had sex. I remembered trying to make sure I didn't come in close contact with my parents afterward in fear of them smelling me. I wondered if that was the case now, with us in such close proximity.

The next phase required us to work side by side for a while with all of our hands busy. I was relieved to get away from the tit show, even though we were now in even more close proximity than before. As we moved slowly down the line our shoulders and legs were side by side, touching each other fully from top to bottom.

"You smell wonderful." It was said in a quiet, unassuming voice. I thanked him and wondered again about the smell of sex on me.

It was a few minutes later that I realized that somehow his legs were no longer beside mine as we worked, but one of them was in between mine. He was wearing a pair of loose, thin sweat pants and through them I could feel the undeniable presence of a very large, very hard teenage cock rubbing against my leg. I shuddered when I first realized it and he asked me if I was okay.

"Yes." But as we moved on all I could think of was the presence of that shaft rubbing against my bare leg. My shorts were light and loose and my imagination allowed me to picture that somehow his cock had come out of his pants and was sticking up under my shorts leg.

Soon, I knew it was not my imagination when he started a very slow, very slight humping against my leg. I'm sure he knew I was aware of what he was doing. A couple of times I unintentionally stopped, freezing in place, while he continued the slow humping. I could feel him throbbing against me and it was unnerving. Finally, it reached the point that he would lift his hands from the project and lightly touch my hips on each side as if holding them. There was no doubt in my mind that at that moment I was being screwed, if only in his mind.

We got to the end of the job. We hadn't spoken for several minutes by that time, each of us caught up in the moment. I'm sure he was on the verge of orgasm, his breath very heavy and his body shaking. As for me, I was on the edge of terror, not afraid of him but rather the situation I allowed to happen. He was just an attractive teenager with a crush, taking advantage of a situation. But I was a teacher responsible for both our actions.

That made it particularly tough when I felt his hands slide slowly under the legs of my loose shorts, sliding slowly up towards my uncovered ass. That was it. This had to stop now.

"Alan, what are you doing?" I asked very quietly and with no attempt to move.

"Touching you. You feel wonderful." He said it as if there was no big deal.

"You need to stop now." I wondered if he could feel the chill bumps that had suddenly formed on my body.

"I'm sorry. Are you cold?" There was my answer.

"No, I'm not cold. But, you need to remove your hands, please."

He did, sliding them out from under my legs. Then, his hands went up the front of my shorts and quickly under my blouse to grasp my breasts. It was all so quick I had to react after he did it rather than during. By the time my hands got to his they had pushed my bra up and were full of tit and nipple. His humping had turned from a slight movement to a hard, steady motion with his hard sliding fully up and down my ass through the cloth.

Most of this happened in seconds, not minutes, and I was not the least bit amused. I cleared his hands and stood up.

"Alan, you need to leave now."

"Okay." That was it. He got up and walked out the door.

Shaking, I cleaned up my mess and went home, extremely distraught with the event and the way I had handled it. I know it started slowly and what I thought was innocently, but it sure didn't end that way. I would tell you that all of it aroused me, but in fact I was appalled and in retrospect knew that I should have slapped his face. To not have done so turned out to be a big mistake.

A week passed without incident. Due to the nature of my job, I had no choice but have contact with Alan, even though I made a conscientious effort to avoid situations where we would be alone together. He was withdrawn, too, probably being aware of the problem he had caused for himself. As the week passed, however, and he realized that I was going to let it pass, he started to become his old self again. Still, when I went to the school that weekend, I made sure all doors were locked and nobody could just walk in.

The following Tuesday night the kids worked on the set for a couple of hours as a group. I unintentionally let them stay too late and was in a rush to get them out of there but at the last minute I needed a few of them to help me get some items out of the storage building that was adjacent to the school. Most of them had been in there before and had no desire to be there. It was a large musky building that reeked of dust and had promises of varmints of all kinds. The only person who found it of interest was Alan, who wandered around in it each time we were down there as if he were looking for something particular of interest. Since it wasn't always locked, I knew that he was in there at times by himself for reasons unknown to me.

It was dark outside when I went down there with three kids, including Alan. I knew exactly what I needed and where it was, so it would be an in and out trip. Some of it was light, some heavy. Alan graciously helped the other two pick up the light stuff and they shot out of there, anxious to get home. Alan went wandering around in the very back, so I had to chase him out of there.

"Alan, let's get these boxes and get out."

"Okay, but come here a second. I want you to see this." Reluctantly, I went back where he was. He was holding a small box in his hand.

"Hold out your hands and close your eyes. You've been looking for this." He motioned for me to hold out my hands palm up, as if he were getting ready to put something in them. I was tired and didn't want to play games, but I went along with him, offering my hands out straight in front of me as I shut my eyes. No telling what he had found. I just hoped it wasn't alive!

There was a rustle of sound, and then I felt his hands on mine. Knowing immediately I had made a mistake, I opened my eyes quickly and tried to drop my arms. They came to an abrupt halt, not falling to my sides. I looked at my hands and both of them were bound with some soft velvet ropes that had been left over from building a prop. He had made loops in them on each end and put my hands through those loops so that he could tighten them quickly.

"Alan, what are you doing?" As I tried to take them off, he pulled suddenly and they tightened even more, separating my arms so that my hands could not touch each other to untie them. I looked around and realized that the rope had been drawn around two support post which would keep my arms separated as I stood there.

"Alan, let me go. This isn't amusing and you're in enough trouble already." I knew the other kids were near, so I wasn't going into a complete panic.

Without saying a word, he stretched the cord out so that it was tight enough that he knew I couldn't escape and looped it around a large hook up high. I was standing there with my arms stretched out almost above my head and couldn't move. He looked at me a second as if he were satisfied with his work, then walked away without saying a word.

"ALAN!! Get back here and let me go!!" He never even looked back as he left. Picking up the rest of the boxes we had come down there for, he quietly left. I was in a complete panic. All sorts of scenarios ran through my mind. Daryl was on the job somewhere and not expected back until the wee hours of the morning. I wouldn't even be missed until then. Maybe a policeman would find me during a routine check. Probably not. They were accustomed to seeing me in the building late. What in the world was Alan thinking, leaving me here like this?

My situation was short lived. Alan walked back in the door. I sighed and, as much as my bonds would let me, drooped in relief. My relief was premature. On the way back in the building he had turned off the front lights, leaving us alone in the dimly lit back part of the building.

"Alan, what are you doing? Where have you been? Let me out of here!"

"I went up there to tell them you said for them to go home, that we had it covered. They're all gone." There was no excitement or panic in his voice. If he were concerned about the situation, he certainly hid it.

"Let me down now, Alan. You know you are already in hot water with me."

"Oh, I don't think so. If you had said anything I would already have heard about it." His calmness frightened me.

"But what are you doing?"

He laughed lightly. "Anything I want, it looks like."

Of all the stupid things to cross my mind, I thought to myself, "Please, please, please don't let him start tickling me." Being tickled was not just a funny inconvenience for me, it was a lifetime phobia. I dreaded it more than a broken bone and those around me understood that and stayed away from it. I never thought about it being anything more serious than that.

Instead, he walked around me several times, and then tried to give me a kiss on the lips. I turned my head and said, "Stop this right now, Alan. Let me down this second."

My arms were tiring quickly, drawn out like they were. He stood in front of me and looking me straight in the eyes, slowly started to undo my blouse buttons. It was then that I realized just exactly how much trouble I was in. I hung my head in shame, not so much as what was happening but more the fact that I had been so gullible as to let it happen. This was no spur of the moment thing. It had been carefully planned.

It took just seconds for my blouse to be opened, exposing my breasts bulging out of a filmy white bra. "Very, very nice." That's all he said as he stepped back just a little and admired me. He stepped aside just as I tried to kick him.

"That's not nice," he said as he stepped to one side of me. My bra clasped in the front and he used one hand to release it. My breasts spilled out as the bra separated to each side and hung there. There were those little tiny patches of white barely covering my nipples standing out against the bronze color of the rest of me.

"Wo-o-o-o, Mrs. Miller, have you been wearing a naughty bathing suit?" I turned my head as my face turned red.

"Alan, what is it you want. Let me go and I will forget about this." I wasn't saying it in a menacing or even a pleading voice, but more one of a promise.

He smiled an unnerving, knowing smile, and said," I have what I want. And I don't think you are going to forget it." Being careful to stay clear of my thrashing feet and legs, he stood to one side of me and, watching my eyes follow him, lowered his head to my nipple. I jerked back my body at the contact, dislodging his mouth.