The boldest thing she’d ever done was ask if he would accompany her into the storeroom and heft a box of books to bring back to the classroom. “My fifth-period class starts reading Ivanhoe next week,” she told him as they made the short walk, their footfalls echoing off the metal wall lockers along the deserted corridor. “The copies are stored in here.”
She unlocked the storeroom door and went in ahead of him. She yanked on the string that dangled from the ceiling light, turning it on, then reached around him to shut and lock the door. Facing him, she stood with her arms at her sides and waited. She’d brought them this far. The next move was his.
He held out for perhaps three seconds before pulling her against him and kissing her with unleashed ardor. He squeezed her ass. He fondled her breasts. He pulled the elastic band from her hair, then grasped handfuls of it and twisted it around his fingers.
Marilee had only read fictional accounts of passion that fiery and could scarcely believe that she was the object of it.
He groped beneath her sweater, but she did better than that. She pulled it over her head and removed her brassiere, revealing her breasts to a man for the first time. Reaching beneath her skirt, she peeled off her panty hose and underpants, then invitingly propped her hips against a stack of boxes.
“Anything you’ve imagined or fantasized, do with me,” she whispered. “I want you to look your fill. Touch me to your heart’s content.”
He slid his hands up her thighs. Already she was wet. As his fingers moved inside her, she threw back her head. “Anything you want. Anything.”
His eyes were glazed with lust, but as he opened his fly and put on a condom, he had the presence of mind to ask if she was a virgin. She told him about her only experience. Her last year in college. A philosophy study partner. It had happened only once, with no more preliminary than a dry kiss.
“The front seat of a car makes for a very unsatisfying fuck.”
Miss Marilee Ritt was the last person on earth he would have expected to use that word. Hearing it from her prim lips aroused him beyond his ability to contain himself. It also swiped his conscience clear of any misgivings. He took her fast and furiously, climaxing before she did.
Pulling out of her, he said, “You didn’t come, did you?”
“It’s all right.”
“Like hell it is.”
He used his fingers.
Afterward, she was so shaky she had trouble dressing. He helped her. There was laughter over his clumsiness with her garments, sighs when he paused to caress a part of her body, playful remonstrations over his deliciously lewd comments. He helped her into her panties, then stroked her through the damp fabric until she came again, clinging to his shoulders, gasping for breath against his chest.
The air in the storeroom had become close and musky. As they left, Marilee wondered if the next faculty member to unlock that door would notice the scent of sex. She hoped so. The wicked thought made her smile.
The clandestine aspect of the storeroom had added excitement to that first encounter, but from a practical standpoint they couldn’t continue to use it. Not only was there a high risk of discovery, but romantically speaking, it left a lot to be desired.
“There are French doors on the north side of my bedroom,” she told him. “I’ll leave them unlocked for you every night. Come to me whenever you can.”
He questioned the plan, but she dismissed his fears that William would discover them. “He goes to bed early and doesn’t leave his room until the next morning.”
The first night he sneaked into her house, they agreed that making love lying down, in a bed, completely naked, was worth any risk. In words that made her blush, he praised every inch of her body. She amazed him with her unabashed curiosity over his.
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“My beautiful lover,” she whispered now, repeating what she had said to him last night when she took his penis between her lips. He loved that. Loved it when she closed her mouth around just the tip, which was as smooth and firm as a plum.
The telephone rang, shattering the lovely recollection.
Rolling onto her side, she looked at the caller ID box beside the phone. William, calling from the drugstore. If she didn’t answer, she could always claim she’d been in the shower. But if he truly needed her help, could she ever forgive herself for not answering because she wanted to daydream about her secret lover? Guilt won out.
• • •
“What is it, William?”
Marilee sounded groggy but also piqued. Had she returned to bed after he left the house? William wondered. Probably. She hadn’t gotten that much sleep last night. Ah well, such was the price of passion. Served her right if she didn’t get to lallygag around all day as she’d obviously planned to do after last night.
Actually she was to be admired for her stamina. It was a marvel to him that his sister could crawl after one of her marathons of fornication. Her lover’s staying power was equally remarkable.
Often he was tempted to ambush one or both of them with his knowledge of their illicit affair. He practically licked his chops in anticipation of the moment when he revealed that he knew about the fervent rutting in his sister’s boudoir. They would gape at him in horror, realizing that their futures depended upon his whim.
It would be such a triumphant moment. Of course, half the fun was knowing that such a moment was inevitable, so he could wait. He would know when the time was right, and when it was, he would spring the trap. In the meantime, let them fuck themselves into complacency.