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Message-ID: <31027asstr$993265802@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Mike C" <MikeC@NoSpam.NSpace.net>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Fri, 22 Jun 2001 13:02:40 PDT
Subject: {ASSM} (rp) JAMES 1 (mF rom)
Date: Fri, 22 Jun 2001 23:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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(C) Copyright 2001. M.C.
All Rights Reserved.
All Reproduction for fee or profit forbidden.

This is a story that grew out of a story. And somewhere during its writing,
the characters took on a life of their own and I'm letting them direct the
plot.

Send all comments and suggestions to MikeC@NSpace.net

  =============

James
Part 1. The Essay.

Chapter 1
   I knew I was in trouble when Mrs Cipola looked pointedly at me and picked
up my assignment like it had come out the wrong end of a dog.
   "James, I have always encouraged you to express yourself through your
writing, and while the prose is excellent, do you not feel that writing
about the sexual congress of a teenager and his girlfriend is entirely
unsuitable for classwork?" The whole class was snickering, even the girls.
   Well, perhaps it did push the envelope a little but I was writing about a
couple's first love affair, a poignant moment that required a bit of "skin",
so to speak. I'm sure even Harlequin Romances had much, much worse.
   Mrs. Cipola obviously did not read Harlequins much and she went on to
berate my lack of good taste and nonexistent social graces. I wisely said
nothing and fidgeted until she ran out of adjectives.
   "Now, James, I know this will NEVER happen again, and I will overlook
this gross infraction provided you submit a revised version by this
Saturday. Understood?" I nodded sagely as she ceremoniously tore my missive
into tiny pieces before dumping it into the waste paper basket.
   Thank god I kept a backup on my computer. That still leaves me only two
days to rewrite it, which should be alright if I skip wrestling practice
tonight. Week Friday would be the State finals and Coach Wilson would not
tolerate any more missed practices.

I was mobbed after classes by requests for reprints. Sammy had emptied the
trash bin and was trying to scotch tape the pieces back together.
   "Were they fucking?" Joey wanted to know.
   "Who's the girl you were writing about?"
   "How 'bout blowjobs?" My friend Joey again.
   "Is it your own experience?" Alan said with eyebrows raised and a bit of
respect. He was the only one I know in my class who'd "done it" - with his
older cousin who was visiting and he'd been able to more-or-less
substantiate it by caressing her ass as they walked by us.
   "Yeah, as if..." Brenda and her friend Sara said together.
   "Yeah, how'd you learn about it!" They ALL wanted to know.
   I was big for a 15 year old, and, although I did have a little reputation
with the ladies, I don't have a current "steady" and, even when I did, a
little above-waist petting was all the actual experience I had. I had
written the piece as a love story and "borrowed" the sex from old copies of
Penthouse Forum my Dad still kept in the basement. But I'll be damned if I
was going to admit it. I put on my "still water" face and stayed silent.
   I waded through the crowd, my size coming in handy for a change. I got on
the bus and sat in the back and tried to ignore the stares as they buzzed
about my run in with Mrs Cipola.
   "Get lost, Joey." I growled when he tried to sit next to me. He sat
across the aisle and tried to catch my eye, which at the time was fixed on
JulieAnn stomping down the bus. She crashed down beside me.
   "You didn't write about US, did you? I swear, if you told about us,
I'll... I'll get someone to beat you up!" She may be mad but she still
looked great. Or maybe it should be the other way around.
   "Hey, you told me 'no strings' when you broke up to go with Mark,
remember? I KNOW you told Brenda and her friends EVERYTHING we did. So..."
   "No - I didn't... I didn't tell them much... They just guessed, is all.
You didn't really write about us, did you?" She turned her charm on and I
started melting.
   "Of course not. I will never betray your trust..."
   "Oh, that's so great. I knew you won't do anything like that! It's just
that I had to be sure!" She hugged my arm to her little breasts. Her warm,
soft, perfect breasts that now has someone else's paw prints all over them.
   "So where's Mark? How come he's not driving you home today?" Mark was the
Senior twerp that broke us up. It didn't help my cause at all that his Dad
the congressman bought him the meanest S2000 in the State and gave him an
allowance that had a comma in it.
   "Oh, they're playing a game out of town and won't be back till Monday."
Mark was also the star quarterback and is lusted after by all the girls. So
philosophically, it's understandable how a sophomore like Jules would eschew
all good sense and jumped when he asked her out. And dumped me in the
process.
   "I'm sorry, James. I like you, I like you a lot, but Mark is different,
he's exciting and you know, like, how all the girls are jealous of me?
That's exciting too!" Her warm body was still pressed against me and, much
as I hated the idea, my cock was hard and throbbing. JulieAnn did not miss
the fact.
   "You're turned on aren't you? Do you remember the last time we went out
by the bluff? Ooooh!" She sighed in my neck. I had managed to get her bra
open and my lips on one sweet nipple that night. But then she had to be home
by eleven and as usual, I had wasted all the time talking. She'd even hinted
at touching me 'there' too.
   Then two days later, she broke our Friday date and told me she had been
invited to the football party - as Mark's date. I was devastated and furious
for a little while but managed to pour all my frustrations into my practice
and matches. So, instead of making a fuss and getting beat up by Mark's
cronies, I ended up winning a berth in the State finals, the youngest ever
in my weight class. Perhaps not having to jerk off all night after a session
with JulieAnn helped too.
   We got off and I walked Jules home, old habit I guess. Joey tagged along
but wisely stayed his distance.
   "Wanna come in and do homework?" She asked.
   "No... some other time. I'd better head home and start rewriting the
essay for English." I didn't want her to see how much I missed her. Joey
rejoined me and we headed home.
   "Shit, that chick still has the hots for you!"
   "Oh, grow up, Joey pimplehead!"
   "Hey, listen. Can you get me ten or twelve copies of your essay? I could
get fifty bucks easy!"
   I reached out to smack him but he had already crossed the street to his
house.
   "Jerk! See you tomorrow!" I called after him.

I was in no mood to work so I just ran off a copy so I could edit it later
and laid in bed thinking about JulieAnn. One thing's for sure, I definitely
have the hots for her still. I was just going to head into the shower for
some quick relief when the phone rang.
   "James? This is Mme Petitcoeur - I taught you French last term,
remember?"
   Of course I remember. Mme Petitcoeur caused a riot the day she showed up.
She had a face that made grown men swoon and women spit with envy. She was a
strawberry blond in her twenties and had the tall, willowy figure that said
model immediately. Except she was the coldest person I'd ever known - she
hardly smiled and, even when she did, it looked forced. Every one of my
friends lusted after her, then wisely kept a respectable distance. Still she
was a good teacher and I enjoyed learning from her.
   "Ah... oh yes... French... last term." I mumbled in a daze.
   "Remember I asked you to help me with some moving? Are you still
willing?"
   "Of course. When?"
   "Now, if it's possible. I have a few pieces of furniture I need help
with."
   "Sure..."
   She asked for my address so she could pick me up. I left a note for Mom,
telling her I'll be late.
   Ten minutes later, Mme Petitcoeur came by in a shiny white BMW. She was
wearing a white leather jacket over sweats and her hair was done up in a
bun. She looked gorgeous but I was afraid just to look. She seemed ill at
ease, nodded at me with a faint smile and took off as soon as I got in. Not
one word was said.

Her house was up in the hills and had a beautifully manicured lawn. She
drove up to a 2-car garage and inside was a Mercedes, also white, also late
model.
   "Do you live with your family?"
   "No I live alone." Wow, stacked, and loaded too.
   She shook off her coat, and took mine. I took turns goggling at her body
and at the marble hallway we had just entered. It was easily 60 feet high
and had a sweeping staircase going both up and down and a huge chandelier
hanging from a rafter in the ceiling. The rest was covered in glass and
marble.
   "Come with me."
   She showed me the room, a study, where she'd bought the new furniture. A
desk the size of a pool table, a gigantic sofa set, an easy chair plus
miscellaneous lamps and side tables. The walls were ceiling-high in
bookcases but only part of the lower levels were filled. There must have
been 500 books there already.
   "Help me move this around." She grabbed one end of the desk and I took
the other. She was impressively strong, but the monster was easily 300lbs
and we had to take care not to scratch the floor. We were both sweating
freely before we were through. She took her sweatshirt off and all she had
on was a white sports bra. I was gaping again.
   She looked at me with a strange expression on her face which I realized
was amusement - but it only registered in her eyes. Then she pointed at the
desk and we got back to work.
   Beneath her smooth and unblemished skin, her muscles rippled and flowed.
I had never seen power so well packaged before. She moved like a ballerina -
making everything look graceful and elegant. She didn't sweat, she glowed.
   We finally got the desk in place and we both sat down for a breather. She
offered me a drink as I stripped off my shirt, naked from the waist up. She
stood and appraised at me for a second before going off to the kitchen.
   Mme Petitcoeur return with my drink and a towel which I used to wipe
myself. We decided to tackle the sofa next while we're still fresh. It was
heavier and more clumsy than the desk and it was a half hour before it was
done. Her bra was plastered to her skin and I could clearly see her dark
nipples through it. She seem unconcerned and even tolerated my frequent
longing gazes.
   The rest went much easier, although it was close to 8 when we finished.
She took me to the kitchen and told me I was eating dinner there and showed
me a phone to call home. So I called Mom telling her I was helping my
teacher move furniture and I'll get a ride back later.
   We had spaghetti and salad which seemed completely out of place in her
palatial kitchen with the professional fixtures and gleaming pots. There was
even two refrigerators there. She offered me soda and poured herself a glass
of red wine. The meal, however simple, was delicious and the company more
so. She asked me about my goals and seemed genuinely interested when I told
her I wanted to be a writer.
   "Do you have anything you've done for me to read?"
   I remembered the printout of my essay in my pocket and fished it out. She
reached for it.
   "Er, it's still a rough copy. Can I read it to you?" I figured I could
skip over the racy parts if it looked like she was going to be offended. She
sat back and said, "Begin, then."
   I started reading and found myself enjoying my own prose. I got to the
part when they shared their first open mouth kiss.
   "... her lips are soft and yielding and he brushes it with his own. He
pauses to look into the deep velvet warmth of her eyes. Again, his lips
descends, like petals testing the ripples on a pond, he wishes to share with
her his trust, his dedication and his love. Her hands reach around his head
and drew him in, needing to give her all to him."
   I looked up to take a drink and Mme Petitcoeur was sitting there with
tears in her eyes.
   "Mme Petitcoeur, are you OK?"
   "Yes, it's beautiful. Keep reading." She whispered. Two large teardrops
began rolling down her face. I leaned over and dabbed it with my towel. And
for the first time I've known her, she smiled, really smiled, her eyes
gleamed and shone. It was mystical, like the Northern Lights, magical and
fascinating.  I could not speak, I could not move, I was transfixed by the
magnificence of her beauty.
   "Please, read some more... And call me Nicole." I had never heard her
speak like this either. It was warm, sultry and intoxicating. "But I think
we'd be more comfortable in the living room. Follow me."
   "Can I have some wine?" I asked, emboldened by her sudden warmth. She
fetched another goblet and poured a healthy portion for me, refilling her
glass at the same time. Then she led me to a room with white carpeting and
white leather furniture. She leaned back against a sofa and indicated I
should sit at the other end, under the lamp. She curled up with her feet
under her. I had a hard time tearing my eyes away from her. I could clearly
see the outline of her breasts and nipples. I sipped my wine slowly,
prolonging the moment.
   "...All his being is focused on the junction of their kiss. He hears
nothing beyond the pounding of his heart and he knows she is feeling the
same. Tentatively, he touches her with his tongue and is surprised to feel
her reciprocate. Her soft moans are urging him to take possession of her
being." Mme Petitcoeur shifted around and I could feel the warmth of her
shoulder next to mine.
   "They kiss again, more comfortable with each other now, warming  to each
other's need. He feels a oneness with her, he knows he will make her happy,
for now and for ever." I paused before the censured part that followed.
Nicole was crying again. Impulsively, I put my arms around her and she
leaned her head against me. My heart was pounding, giddy from her nearness.
For a long time I looked at her long sleek body curled against me and
savored the lavender scent of her hair. If this was a dream, please god
don't let me wake!
   "Please, continue... James." She says quietly.
   "...She takes his hand and places it on her chest. 'Feel', she says, 'My
heart beats for you.' And the thunder blankets his brain. He feels the
rhythm of her pulse, and also the heat and her yielding softness. Its core
crying out for his attention." I got hell for that line this morning but Mme
Petitcoeur said nothing.
   As I waited for a response, she shifted again, this time to take my hand
and press it against her breast. It was soft, and filled my hand much better
than JulieAnn's. She held it there and squeezed my leg, telling me to go on.
I took a few deep shuddering breaths before I could continue.
   "...With this simple act, he realizes that she is offering her very
physical being. He touches her face, her eyes..." As I spoke, my teacher
took my hand and moved it as the story dictated. I tried a test.
   "...her nose, her lips..." This was not in the essay but Mme Petitcoeur
ran my hand along her nose to her lips.
   "...down her slender neck... and again, to her breast..." I was no longer
reading from the essay as I murmured instructions. The nipple had hardened
to tent her bra, I knew what I had to do next.
   "She places his hand under her shirt so that he can feel her hot skin..."
I ad libbed. Without hesitation she helped me slide my trembling fingers
under her bra, up the side of her soft full breast, until I reached their
engorged tips. Mme Petitcoeur was shaking too, with fear or lust I cannot
tell. Meanwhile, my narration took on a life of its own and words stumbled
and fought to be uttered.
   "He knows that she will not refuse him anything now, that she is his to
do as he pleased..." Nicole moaned and arched her back, forcing my hand into
her flesh.
   "...In a fit of daring based on the need to please her lover, she pulled
her blouse over her head..."
   I watch in silent wonder as my teacher/lover slipped her garment over her
head. Her breasts were ever bit as lovely as I had envisioned them to be.
Smooth flesh formed a rounded slope that peaked in dark, almost angry
nipples. I gently traced their pale white surface, testing the resilient
flesh. The woman beneath me writhed as I toyed around her nipples, grazing
but never making full contact.
   I don't know how long I did that but suddenly she was moaning, a long
plaintive sound from her throat. I closed my hands on her tender flesh,
roughly pinching her blood filled tips. She arched her back to drive her
flesh into my hands as I buried my face in their fevered softness, kissing
and licking whatever part of her torso I can reach. She bucked wildly under
me and gasped incoherently as I nursed on an distended nipple.
   The feeling of control was tantalizing, as I pushed my hand downward,
past her rib, her taut stomach and her navel. She sucked her breath in so
that I could slip my hand under her waistband. I dove past some flimsy
underthing and felt soft fuzz. She held my head to her breasts and moaned in
my ear.
   My hand now covered her mound, my middle finger contacting her hot
womanhood. There was a stillness that was tangible as I poised on the
unknown. Gently I pushed my way into her burning core. I wasn't too sure
what I was doing but she seemed to enjoy it, so I experimented with little
back and forth action.
   "Please... James, don't wait. I want you. Touch me!" Her increased
shaking told me I was doing it right as I pushed a finger deeply into her.
Her body humped and I followed her rhythm.
   Suddenly with frantic need my lovely teacher pushed her remaining
garments down to her socks and kicked them off. She reached down and slipped
a finger under my pumping hand and started touching herself, her clitoris, I
figured, with small circular motions that moved in syncopation to my pumping
fingers. Her groans became more intense and her stomach muscles rippled,
then tensed. She pulled her hand off her clitoris and held mine firm against
her pussy, rubbing herself along my fingers as her shudders gradually
dissipated.
   "Oh, so good, so good..." She mumured as she turned to hug me. My hand
was soaked in her moisture and I wiped it on my pants before returning her
embrace.
   "Thank you - you were marvelous." She hugged me tightly. I said nothing,
afraid of breaking her mood.
   Finally she turned her face up to me, "I want to make you happy now. What
do you want me to do?" She asked with a warm purr. I responded with the
obvious, "I want to... Can I LOOK at you?"
   She chuckled deep in her throat and unwound from our embrace. Her
movements were graceful and effortless, like drifting mist on the grass, but
it coalesced into the most gorgeous vision I could ever imagine. She stood
as if I was Michelangelo and she was Venus de Milo and I just stared,
totally unabashed.
   She was sleek softness, her body long and elegant with breasts that
filled dreams and fueled fantasies. And a face which now radiated love and
desire. I fell on my knees, somehow the most appropriate position I can
imagine. Holding her warm hips I leaned forward and kissed her dark golden
triangle, tasting the fluid that dripped for me. My tongue sought to taste
more. She moaned but pulled me to my feet. Her eyes looked into mine.
   "Let me LOOK at you too, my Adonis..." She ran her hands across my naked
chest, teasing my nipples until they stood up. She rained little kisses from
my throat to my navel. Then she backed me to the leather coach. I sat and
she started pulling off my pants, struggling to clear my erection. When I
was completely naked, she knelt at my feet.
   "I'll try and make it good for you - but you have to tell me what you
want, alright?" Without waiting for an answer, she leaned down and kissed
the tip of my penis. A sigh choked at my throat. It was like nothing I had
felt before, it was tender, it was electrifying, it was everything I had
dreamt about and more, a million times more. I started shaking and almost
came. She chuckled and kissed it again, her mouth covering the top. I dug my
nails into my palm to prevent myself from losing it too soon. She seemed to
sense my dilemma and released me. She bent her head and kissed along the
sides of my throbbing shaft, her hand bending me this way and that as she
caressed my turgid stalk. Then I saw her tongue extend and she took a long
swipe just as her nails tickled my balls.
   I yelled "Aaaah, I-I'm coming!" and blasted a shot across her forehead
and her hair. She barely had time to place her mouth over me before I cut
loose with my second blast. And my third....
   She waited till my shuddering spasms quieted and then she stood and went
to the bathroom, where I heard water running. I was just catching my breath
when she returned, the light from the hallway illuminating her head in a
golden halo, I could not do anything but stare. She was breathtaking. She
knelt on the carpet and began cleaning me with a warm cloth.
   "I'm sorry James. I didn't expect it to be this strong, I've never done
this before."
   "It was amazing - I didn't think it could be so strong either." I was
grinning like an idiot.
   "Then I was good?" She giggled like a teenager.
   "Without a doubt."
   I pulled her against me and we kissed. Our very first kiss. She tasted of
woman and sperm. I made a face.
   "Do I really taste this bad?"
   "Worse - it's like mouthwash with bleach." Her face screwed up with the
remembered taste, and I couldn't help but stare at her. She looked so young
and her beautiful face made me weak with desire. Yet she is more than just a
delightful vision, I realized that I was seeing, for the first time, the
warm and LOVING person that is hidden under her daily personage. I kissed
her again and she returned it enthusiastically.
   She put her hand on my flagging cock and squeezed it. It twitched but I
was sated for now. Nicole seemed to have taken an interest in my cock so I
laid back, content to let her explore me with her fingers, while I ran my
hands over her perfect curves.
   I was moving a finger lazily in her warm moist hole when she again took
my cock into her mouth. I shuddered and started growing. She gave me a
gentle suck and looked up at me.
   "You know, it's strange how the taste grows on you. Intellectually, I
know it's bad tasting but knowing that it's you makes me want more. Weird."
And she returned to her tasting.
   After a minute, she looked up from my now quivering spit-covered erection
and said, "I want the next part to be in my bed." She tried to get up but I
stopped her by scooping her up in my arms. Slowly she relaxed, her arms
around me and face in my neck.
   "No one has ever done that for me... It's nice. Warm, protected... and
owned?"
   "Like a kept woman?" I had to laugh.
   "No, it's like having someone there to take care of you, and I don't have
to worry about anything at all. Sheltered, in a way."
   "Yeah, I'd like to be able to do that for you. A knight in shining armor,
on a white stallion, defending his princess."
   "And I can laze around all day and do my hair or something..." She raised
her arm and patted her hair. Then suddenly she flexed and stretched to her
full length in my arms. I can see the muscles and tendons bunch on her body,
pulling her breasts into long teardrops. I gulped and staggered as my cock
quivered for attention.
   "Oh god, I've never seen anything as amazing and sexy as this!" I said
after I got control of my senses.
   "You like?" She was grinning like a Cheshire cat.
   "I love!" I said with the utmost sincerity.
   She stroked my face and her eyes started to mist up again. "You're so
sweet..." She pulled my face down for a kiss that said everything.

We finally made it to her bedroom, white, of course, with a canopied king
size bed. It even had its own TV and couch.
   She laid in the bed, naked but without any self-consciousness. I could do
nothing but stand there and drink in her heady loveliness. She slowly opened
her arms and I let myself sink in them. With one hand, she reached between
us and found my cock, which had never lost its hardness, and pulled me into
her.
   I was immersed in a sea of molten lava, which enveloped me and caressed
me with its pulsating bands of scorching ecstasy. I could not help myself -
I started pounding into her. I was wild, uncontrolled and Nicole clung on
with arms and legs. Every stroke brought blinding bolts of pleasure, as I
strove to delve deeper into her core. All my senses were centered on the
flow and ebb of our union. Finally, in a bone shaking thrust, my penis
exploded and I poured my essence into her. Our pleasure and our cries
mingled until we were both shaking and spent.
   An eternity later, she rolled over to lie on top of me. Her face was
flushed and her perfect hair in disarray, the look of raw sex was all over
her. I started to say "I love you", but she stopped me with a finger. Her
smile said she understood as she hug me tightly.
   "I want to tell you about myself so that you can understand why this
night is so special for me...", she whispered in my ear. For a long time she
did not speak.
   "I married very young, not much older than you are now, and my husband
was much older. No - it's not what you might think. What I did, I did on my
own free will and, if I could, I would do it again.
   "You see, Gaston and his wife were very kind to me and took me in after
my parents died. When his wife died, from cancer, Gaston was devastated. So,
out of a sense of gratitude and a sense of duty, I made him marry me, hoping
to give him a child to carry on his name.
   "He treated me very well - pampered me in fact, I think partly to make up
for the childhood I'd given up for him. He added a gym in the basement so
that I could work out, and the library and books when I took my teaching
degree through correspondence school. He built a little paradise here for
us, for me.
   "I never did conceived, he was already quite weak then. And two years
ago, Gaston died. So suddenly, I was on my own. I realized I did not know
how to cope with the world outside. It was scary and so I kept it out by
locking the real me inside.
   "As you can can tell, I have no financial worries - I was his legal heir
and he'd left me very well taken care of, so it was too easy to hide here
and not have to face the world.
   "When you read me your story, it was as if a door opened in my heart. I
had dreamed of the kind of love Jen and her boyfriend shared, it echoed my
idea of a perfect romance. So I knew you were the right person for me, to
help me face the world again."
   "I'm not trying to coerce you into staying with me. What we shared is
given of my own accord. You do not owe me anything and you can stay, or
leave, as you wish. I think there's a lot we can experience together but
again, no strings."
   "Next week, I'll be resigning my job at school. It's not fair, but it's
the easiest way to avoid a scandal. I don't need the money and I have a few
things I want to try out anyways. IF you are still interested, you can come
here a couple of days a week, after school, and we can... do things." She
ended smiling wickedly.
   I held her and tried to sort things out in my head. The evening was like
a dream. Losing my cherry with somebody like Nicole WAS a dream come true,
and I cannot think of anything I'd rather do. And I told her.
   We decided on Tuesdays and Wednesdays because it did not conflict with my
schedule and still leave me time to maintain contact with my school friends.
   Then she drove me home because it was already past 11 and it was a school
day tomorrow. I slept as soon as my head hit the pillow.

(C) Copyright 2001. M.C.
 All Rights Reserved.
All Reproduction for fee or profit forbidden.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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