Chapter 19: The Lesson of Giving

By Christmas, we were solidly in first place, academically speaking. Mrs. Wilson wouldn't tell us how far ahead we were, or who our nearest competitors were, but she did tell us that we were statistically tied with each other, and that our nearest competitor was 'several points behind.' She said that it wouldn't be right for her to tell us who that competitor was, as the competitor was also one of her students.

We didn't try to push for the information, as we had gone into this project without any expectation of support. The fact that Mrs. Wilson had figured out what we were doing, and had even offered some assistance, had come as a complete surprise. We had no intention of ruining this still-new relationship.

With the semester's final exams out of the way, we found ourselves with a little more free time, and did our best to fill it by catching up on some of the physical activity we had missed through the fall months. Pleasurable activities had started as soon as we had the time, even if that time were quite short.

The first time that we found ourselves without afternoon classes, we bumped into each other outside the gym locker rooms. Since physical education was over for the semester, and the sports teams were inactive during exams, there was little activity around the gym. We had both dropped by the locker rooms in order to collect our gym gear to take home.

She looked up and down the hallway, then grabbed my hand and pulled me into the girls' locker room. I started to say something, as getting caught there could easily lead to suspension, or even expulsion. She shushed me into silence, then led me past the changing areas and into the equipment room. The room had been left unlocked, and she directed me though the open door, closing it and locking it behind her.

There was a table at one side of the room, and she moved toward it, pulling me behind her. When she got to it, she reached under her skirt, gyrated a little, and her panties ended up around her ankles. She smiled at me, then hopped up on the table. "We haven't done this in a long time, but I've been horny all morning and I can't wait until we get home. When I saw you in the hall, the urge just hit me, and my poor little neglected puss got wet. So, come here and put me out of my misery in that hard and fast way that only you can."

The view of her naked mound was fast overcoming my better judgement, but I was still managing to think with the bigger head for the moment. I looked at her quizzically, and asked, "Are you sure about this? We could get expelled if we get caught."

"I think we're safe, and I'm horny enough to not care, so get over here and make me come."

I could feel the tension in my penis as it seemed determined to overcome my second thoughts, and I started undoing my belt and my pants as I walked toward her. The moment my pants hit the floor her legs wrapped themselves around me and her hand clamped onto my rigid shaft. She rubbed my head over her wet labia, then positioned it at her opening. Her eyes locked onto mine and her legs started tightening their grip, easing me into her warm tunnel.

She moaned as I started moving into her, "Yes, right there, just like that. Oh, do I need this..."

I leaned forward and kissed her, silencing her for the moment as I continued to slowly infiltrate her depths. As I bottomed out, her legs wrapped right around my hips, and for the moment I couldn't move. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against my chest, softly saying, "Just hold me for a minute, and let me feel you inside me, and around me." I knew that I could hold her forever, but the school staff might have something to say about it.

After a minute, she lifted her head and said, "Let's get this show moving, cowboy; time to ride."

I grinned down at her, "So am I the stud bull to your heifer now?"

She started to tell me off for the comment, but I began moving in and out in short strokes and the words died in her mouth. "If you ever call me a cow again ... oh, yes-s-s, just like that."

I pulled further back, lengthening my stroke, loosening the grip of her legs, and reached around her to take hold of her buttocks, using them to pull her closer to me. My forward movement drove me all the way to her depths, and I heard her grunt in response as I stepped up the speed again. Since this was supposed to be a quickie, then speed was of the essence. I didn't think that it would take much to push her into the orgasm she sought, but I wasn't sure how long it would take me.

A couple of more strokes and I was up to full speed, plunging into her quickly and withdrawing almost as fast. She was moaning on every inward stroke, giving a little yelp at the bottom, and I covered her mouth with mine to help keep the noise down. Our breath combined to push past our lips in a huff, and I could see that her eyes were closed. She was lost in the arousal, climbing quickly to the peak; I could feel the first twinges of my own orgasm starting, deep in my pelvis.

Her mouth pulled loose from my lips as she wailed, very close to coming, panting her arousal. Her eyes opened, unfocused and glazed over, and I knew she was only seconds from her release. I sped up as much as I could, trying to bring us to the same conclusion at the same point in time, and my own breathing got a little ragged as I hammered into her over and over again.

Another moment, another couple of strokes, and her breathing stopped for a second. Her eyes squinted shut, and her head flew back; I felt every muscle in her body clench, and a loud moan began to turn into a yell. I felt my own orgasm starting and my strokes quickly became uncoordinated just as her body began flailing around. I quickly covered her mouth with my own to try to keep some of the noise down, but our combined movements meant that we kept bumping lips, bruising each other as we tried to kiss.

My cum boiled up the length of my shaft, and I buried myself deeply in her as it burst free from the tip. I could feel myself hosing her insides, clenching and unclenching with the muscular spasms of the orgasm, as her internal muscles gripped me tightly. I kept my mouth on hers as much as possible, trying to keep her quiet, and not having much success.

She calmed after a few minutes, and her hold on me started to relax. I held her close, still massaging that wonderful ass, and relishing the feel of my penis in her hot, wet depths. She took a deep, shuddering breath, then lifted her eyes to mine, and a faint smile crossed her face. "I love you," she said quietly, "especially when you make feel like this."

"What, you only love me when I make you come?"

"No, no ... it's not the sex ... it's ... it's the closeness. Being connected like this makes me feel like I'm truly part of you, like we are almost one person. That's the part I really love, feeling like you and I are the same person, inseparable, and indistinguishable from each other. Even if sex weren't included, I would still want this feeling; with the sex, it's just that much better."

I grinned at her, then leaned down and kissed her once more. "Don't hold back, tell me how you really feel." I hugged her to avoid the fist that was about to hit me, and took a deep breath of her hair and said, "I love you," into the tangle of curls.

A moment later she pushed me away a little. "We can't stay here too long, because there is a slim chance that we could get caught, but I need a towel or something because of the mess you made."

I laughed at her comment, then picked her up and backed away from the table. I pulled out of her, then stood her on the floor. "Keep your legs apart and go ahead and drip. I'll go find a towel. Since the floor is concrete, it won't matter too much if you make a mess." I kissed the tip of her nose, then pulled up my jeans and headed for the locker room while I zipped myself up and fastened my belt. I actually found a clean towel in one of the open lockers, so I brought it back and helped her clean both herself and the floor.

As she pulled her panties back up, I said, "I should take those as a souvenir, to remind you what kind of bad girl you are ... seducing poor unsuspecting boys like me ... you hussy."

She laughed gleefully, settling her clothes into place. "Your chance to be considered as pure and unsuspecting was months ago. Considering that you're the one that likes to bind me and force me to do your bidding, I somehow think the shoe is on the other foot."

"Touché ... point well taken."

She came into my arms again, and we indulged in a few deep kisses, punctuated with tight hugs and intimate caresses. A few minutes later we headed for the locker room, moving quietly in case anyone might hear from outside the room. She opened the door a sliver and peeked out, then seeing no one, pushed it all the way open and we both stepped out quickly, moving down the hall to be away from the door in case someone came along.

As we walked along in quiet conversation, we saw no one of authority, and smiled secretly to each other as we contemplated the fact that we had managed to have sex in the school, during school hours, and had not been caught. This had truly been a lesson to remember, if not one to tell our grandchildren about.

Christmas Eve I was in the garage catching up on some weight-lifting when the door hummed up. She ducked under the door as soon as she could fit, then started it back down. She was dressed a little strangely, in a coat that went to her knees, and was buttoned to her throat. I racked the bar I was working with, and sat up, looking at her a little quizzically.

As she reached me, she pulled the coat open and I realized that it was held closed with Velcro. She swept it back until it dropped to the floor, then put a hand on her hip, posing like an old-time pinup girl. Underneath the coat she was gloriously naked, or at least mostly so.

Her breasts were adorned with clamps festooned with bright red ribbons; little bells descended from them, swinging freely from gold chains. Across her mound was a design of garlands and snowmen, with the words 'Merry Christmas' worked through it in red and green script. I could see something hanging between her legs; noticing my look, she opened her legs and gave me a better view. I realized that there was a sprig of mistletoe hanging from a thin gold chain, and the chain was clamped to one of her labia. Somehow, the mistletoe was what put the whole thing over the top for me, and I burst out laughing.

Her expression turned from a pleasant smile to a nasty frown, and I thought she was misinterpreting my reaction. I rushed to hold her shoulders, and did my best to quell my laughter, but I still couldn't help chuckling every time I looked at her. I could see that she was getting mad at me, and I knew this could easily end in disaster.

"No, no, no. Don't get mad. I love it, and I think it's wonderful. It's not you ... it was the mistletoe that got me, since you're supposed to kiss under it, but the lips it's under aren't the usual lips you kiss. I have every intention of kissing those lips, and the usual ones, but it was just the whole idea of the mistletoe that got me."

She looked me in the eye, and finally seeing some sincerity there, let the tension start to ease from her body. I held her at arm's length, then moved a hand to flick at the bells hanging from her nipples. "I love the whole effect, and I am pleasantly surprised. I think it's the most inventive Christmas present that anyone ever got me." I pulled her in for a kiss, careful to not crush the ribbons, or rub against her mound.

"You have no idea what I went through for this. I just wanted to give you a Christmas present that you couldn't open in front of your parents. I wasn't expecting to get laughed at."

"I meant nothing by the laughter other than the joy that it brought me. I am amazed at what you did; I would never have guessed that you would dream up something like this. And yes, I love it, and I love you."

"Good recovery. I can't take full credit for it. Clara had a lot to do with it."

My eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Clara? When did you see Clara?"

"Well, most of this morning, getting this done ... and a few days ago, setting it up and getting ideas." A slight blush crept over her upper body as she told me this, and she was having a little trouble meeting my eyes.

"I think you need to tell me more ... and do I need to get your collar? Something tells me that a little more than paint and ribbons went on if Clara was involved."

She mumbled something, looking down, and I didn't catch what she said. "What was that? Speak up, or I will get the collar, and I don't want to do that."

She lifted her head, swallowed, and said, "It wasn't just Clara ... her Mistress was involved as well."

"You really do need to tell me what happened. But I think we should go upstairs, so I can decide whether you're going to get eaten or spanked for this."

"Actually, I was hoping that we would make love."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to see about that." I took her hand and led her up to my bedroom, listening to the tinkling of the bells on her nipples as we went. I was smiling both inwardly and outwardly as we went, as I had every intention of enjoying several mutual orgasms with her, and absolutely no intention of spanking her. After all, it was Christmas, I loved her with all my heart, and she had obviously put a lot into her surprise; I was going to enjoy it to the fullest extent.

When we got behind closed doors, I sat her on the bed and pulled a chair over for me, then parked in front of her, with our knees nearly touching. I reached out and urged her knees wider apart so that I had a clear view of the artwork, smiling at the show. "I really do love it, and I appreciate the effort that went into it, but I think you had better give me the back story."

She smiled at me and reached to stroke my face, then started speaking. "It all started about a week ago. I was going nuts trying to come up with an idea for something to give you for Christmas. I didn't want it to be something you would actually open with your parents, since we're still keeping our relationship quiet. I kept flashing on some kind of sex toy, or a harem costume, or having you string me up and whip me. But ... we have enough toys, and a costume didn't really seem necessary, and we had both agreed not to use the toy store because of the age issue, and the potential exposure for both us and the Mistress.

"Finally, more in desperation than anything else, I went to the store in order to see Clara. I only wanted to bounce some ideas off of her, and see if she could suggest anything else. We talked for about an hour, during which I had to follow her around the store with my blouse unbuttoned, and let her feel my boobs. You know how she is—absolutely fascinated by my boobs, and has to feel like she owns them. At least with her, I know it's not about dominance and control, at least no more than the control of my boobs; all she really wants is the sex, not the power.

"Anyway, to get back on track ... she came up with the idea of the clamps, and the design on my mound. Her original suggestion was for a tattoo, but I turned that idea down right away. Her next suggestion was for a henna tattoo, since that would ultimately wash off. We went back and forth on ideas--she wanted something like 'Slave' or 'Slut', but I wanted a Christmas theme. She finally agreed with the Christmas idea when she found a new line of inks that would let her do more than just the dark red of henna. It ended up looking a lot like a tattoo, but it's more like a painting, and will wash off in about a week or so."

"So, who did the actual painting? It looks like there's a lot of work in it. Whoever did it has a lot of talent."

"That's the surprising part—it was Clara. She did all of the painting and lettering; she's very good, and works very quickly. Of course, since it was her, there was a price to pay, and she made sure that she got her money's worth."

"What do you mean? Did she hurt you, or something?"

"No, no, nothing like that. But, in order to paint me, she insisted that I be naked, and strapped down on a bench so I couldn't move. She said it was so I couldn't move around and destroy her artwork, but I think it was more so that she could have me at her mercy. She even insisted that I have my hands restrained, and of course that made me totally helpless. The whole time she was painting me, she kept playing with my clit, but wouldn't let me come; I'm so horny I could go out and offer myself to the first person who came along."

I chuckled at the thought of her tied down, wet and squirming at the mercy of Clara. I knew that Clara would never hurt her, because she liked her so much, but I also knew that Clara would want to play with her as much as she could. For Clara, it truly was about the sex, and not the power. "So, Clara got you nicely worked up, but wouldn't finish you off?"

"No, but that's not the worst of it. About halfway through, Clara's Mistress came looking for her. We were in a back room, and her Mistress thought she would be out on the floor; I think she was going to get punished, until her Mistress saw what was going on. Anyway, the Mistress came and stood over me, looking at what Clara was painting. The next thing I knew, the Mistress was playing with my nipples, and talking to me. 'I assume this is a present for your young Master?' she asked. When I said it was, she said, 'I think an even better present would be to let him whip you on one of our devices. He is very talented with a whip, that one. I look forward to seeing him again.' I didn't know what to say in response; she really surprised me. You must have made quite an impression on her."