Mrs. Jones' Secret Life (2 page)

B
y now, some of you are thinking that this is going to turn out to be one of those incest stories where mother and son have sex, but that’s not the case. It is important, however, for you to know that they have a very open relationship and that she simply wants the best for her son. That’s not to say, however, that they are not attracted to one another, but just like the vast majority of mothers and sons, they never go there.

Nick
began reading Crystal’s work, and he enjoyed each one. They took some of the pressure off Mrs. Jones whenever he felt the need in the privacy of his bedroom. His mom gave him four more books, all by different authors, so he could compare their different writing styles. Of particular interest was how they described different sex scenes. Nick later told his mom that he was convinced that Crystal Summers was, by far, the best writer of the bunch.

******

Mrs. Jones became aware that Nick was staring at her breasts from time to time. This was no big deal because most all of the boys did. She was used to it by now and figured that if they didn’t they were either very shy or gay. Nick, however, because of where he sat every day, could see her legs under her desk and if she wasn’t very careful, he could occasionally see up her skirt. When this happened, she could see Nick get a bulge in his pants, which always made her a little uncomfortable, and would cause her to flush a little.

She
tried to ignore him at first, looking the other way whenever she saw him staring at her. After a while, she couldn’t help but notice how intensely he looked at her. He was unabashedly aggressive with the boldness of his gaze. He was a tall, good-looking boy, and she couldn’t help but be flattered. However, she could never let him know it.

Nick was getting an erection every day now
, and he was sitting not more than four feet away from her. She tried to ignore him, but she was losing that battle and her body was beginning to respond whether she liked it or not.

She
knew that she shouldn’t fantasize about, or encourage, one of the students in her class to stare at her, but what was it going to hurt, in the long run? No one she thought. With that in mind, she decided to play with him a little. After all, he was the one being bold, almost disrespectfully so.

S
he decided to play with him and turn the tables the next time she caught him looking at her legs, trying to see her panties. After all, she wasn’t going to report him for wanting to look up her dress. Hell, she was flattered, and besides, this was the sort of thing that she wrote about, daily. Except in her novels, she would have sex with him in a heartbeat. She would fuck him on her desk, on the floor, against the wall, and every place her imagination could take her.

Anyway, the next time she
caught him looking up her skirt. She decided that she would discretely raise her knees by coming up on her toes and part her legs ever so slightly. This would give him a better view of what he was so desperate to see and she could watch his reaction or his erection, whichever came first. She knew that she shouldn’t do this, but it excited her to watch him get hard while he was looking at her. After all, she was twenty-three years older than Nicholas was and it made her feel good about herself.

This went on for several days, and
Nicholas couldn’t be sure if she was doing this on purpose or not. Was it a coincidence or was she actually flirting with him? Each time this happened, his face flush as his erection grew. This aroused Mrs. Jones more than she had expected.

******

“This kid is getting to me. He is turning me on way too much,” she said, aloud as she grabbed one of the larger vibrating dildos out of the desk drawer in the library. She slid her panties down and was about to give herself a much needed orgasm as she thought about him stuffing the head of his young, eager cock into her tight wet sheath.

She had never felt this way about a student
before. She knew that other teachers, both male and female, did this on a regular basis. It was one of the distractions that were inevitable when you put sexually charged students in front of role models.

The temptations were always there. It was her opinion that
close to ninety-five percent of the boys and fifty percent of the girls would have a sexual encounter with a teacher if given the opportunity. She believed that it happened much more often than anyone knew or would ever admit to.

She shoved the lifelike vibrator deep inside thinking about Nicholas’s
thick cock and wondered what it might feel like as he slid it inside her. What might he do to, and for, her pussy? How much would he stretch her? How many times could he come and still get it up? She was getting closer. She pounded her slick hole harder and rubbed her erect clit with her other hand. “Oh, fuck, Nicholas, fuck my pussy baby fuck meeee,” she cried out and contorted as her orgasm ripped through her sex. She went stiff for a moment as she enjoyed the pleasure of her release when another wave of her orgasm crashed through her. She jerked two more times, each one causing her to spasm and go ridged while she gasped for air.

“F
uck, that was good,” she moaned, as she concentrated on her pussy and the residual feelings still reverberating through her groin. She closed her eyes and wondered what Nicholas would do if he could see her now. He would see her pussy stuffed with a large phallus, dripping with excitement all because she was fantasizing about him. She slowly slid the dildo out. She licked her sweet juices off it before wiping it clean and placing it back in the bottom drawer.

“Okay
, Samantha, you have to get a grip and get control of Crystal. She needs to get her slutty mind off of that young man, because neither she nor I can ever have him,” she whispered. One thing was for sure, she thought, he must never know how much he was affecting her.

“What
is there about Nicholas that’s so different from all of the other young men I have been around and taught all these years?” she asked, as she tried to convince herself that there was absolutely nothing different. What the hell, she thought, it’s just a fantasy, and she should know more about those than almost anyone else would. It’s okay if he turns me on, what does it hurt, certainly not my pussy, she mused.

One of the things that she really liked to do was read her fan mail, which she always responded to. At the end of each of her books, she thanked her readers for reading her work. She also asked them to let her know what they liked or disliked about it because she really enjoyed receiving their feedback. The only problem, which wasn’t really a problem, was that it took her away from her writing for at least an hour a day. Today, there was around thirty that she was going to respond to. Most of the time, it was simply a thank you for their support but sometimes, depending on the letter, it required a little more thought. She was almost finished when she received one that read as follows.

Dear Crystal, I am an eighteen year old that really enjoys your books. My mom has been a fan of yours for a long time
, and she let me start reading your books a few months ago. I have read all of the ones that she has and have loved all of them.

I have also read a few other authors but they
just don’t compare. Your writing style really turns me on as it seems so real. Naturally, I’ve read many different kinds of books but I like erotica the best, especially romantic erotica that usually has a happy ending. I know that life doesn’t always have happy endings, but in my fantasy world, it does.

Crystal,
I am taking a creative writing course from the sexiest teacher in the world. I have a huge crush on her and have had for two years now.

I think th
at I could write erotic romance. Not nearly as well as you, but perhaps, I would improve with time. I have written a few lines describing her beauty, how I feel about her, and how much she turns me on. Please let me know if you think that I have an outside chance of becoming a writer.

Your serious fan, Nicholas”

“What the hell?” she said aloud. This couldn’t be
my
Nicholas, she thought, as she read on with some trepidation.

She is tall and slender
, with a small waist. Her hips are narrow and her ass is nothing short of incredible. Her butt is one of her most striking features. Most men can’t take their eyes off her sexy tight ass when she walks past them. Her eyes are green with a few small brown specks in them, which are accentuated by her long, dark-brown hair. I imagine that when she’s naked that it covers the rounded outer edges of her breasts. Her breasts are not huge, but on her slender frame, they appear to be perfect. I dream about what they might look like. I know that she has never had any children so, in my mind, I see delicately rounded mounds with a slight upturn to them. Her tight, perky nipples sit on top and point toward the heavens.

She always dresses to the nines
with designer clothes and high heels. It tortures me to sit directly in front of her in class because sometimes I can see her panties, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I sense that she knows when I am looking at her. I can’t tell for sure, but it seems to me that she tries to give me a better view by parting her knees slightly while trying not to make it obvious to the other students.

Crystal couldn’t believe what she was reading, “What the fuck, this has to be Nicholas. He is describing us,” she said
, aloud as she read on.

When I get home from school, I go into my bedroom and masturbate thinking
of what I would like to do with her incredible body. I softly rub my lips across the surface of hers, and gently kiss the corners of her mouth as I wait for her to accept me. She parts her lips slightly as I cautiously probe her lips and our tongues touch for the first time. Our lips fuse as our tongues continue to explore. Her lips are soft and smooth and her tongue sweet and moist. She moaned as I cupped her breasts firmly in my hands and finally feel how ripe and firm they are. I can feel her rigid nipples through her blouse and bra as I rub the palm of my hands gently over her soft mounds

She squi
rms helping me as I lift her tight skirt above her ass and feel her wet panties. My fingers slide effortlessly up and down the damp fabric as she spreads her legs giving me access to her slick wet folds.

Crystal was shaken.
“This is just too strange. I’m so fucking turned on by this young man that I think I would climax if he were here and would just blow on my pussy,” she moaned. I can’t believe that this is happening to me, she thought, as she was compelled to read on.

I bent down and rubbed my face over her wet panties, relishing
in her incredible odor for a moment. It was pungent, musky, and earthy. Her smell was driving me insane. I ran my tongue the length of her panty covered slit. She nudged her pussy up against my tongue as I made my way up to her clit, kissing and rubbing it with a heady need.

I desperately wanted at her bare flesh. I wanted to taste her.
I reached for the top of her panties to lower them as she was trying to get out of her skirt. I held her panties to my face smelling her pungent, musky odor and licked some of her wetness from the fabric.”

“Oh
, fuck,” Crystal stammered, her hands now trembling slightly as she read on.

“She quickly removed her blouse and bra
, and I got my first glimpse of her incredible breasts. They were more than I could ever have imagined. They were full, perky, upturned globes, which were much larger than I had expected. I reached for them, feeling how firm they were, while at the same time, how soft. I kissed each one in turn and eventually sucked on them for a moment as I felt her hands reach for, and unfasten my jeans letting them fall to the floor. I moaned lustfully when she grabbed my cock and rubbed it against her crotch. She briefly kissed the moistened head and whispered that she wanted it in her mouth, but she needed it in her pussy.

That’s all I have for now
, Crystal, and please, if you get the time, could you let me know what you think?

“What in the hell do you mean that’s all there is for now, I want to read the rest of it and know how
the fuck it ends” she said angrily. “I am so fucking hot that I feel like slapping my clit with a ruler,” she moaned, as she stretched her panties to the side and shoved in her vibrator deep between her moist lips. She stroked herself a few times, then pulled it out and placed it on her clit immediately triggering her orgasm.

She was shaken, emotionally and figuratively. She hadn’t been that turned on in several years
, and she thought that she just had the strongest orgasm that she has had in a very long time. After composing herself somewhat, she read the final couple of lines of his email.

In closing
, I wanted to get your opinion on whether I should tell my instructor about my desire to write erotica. We are supposed to write a short story as part of our final grade in her class, and I wanted to do mine as an erotic romance. How would I even approach it with her? She is one of the most proper, dignified women that I have ever known, and I would hate it if it ruined her opinion of me. Thanks for listening, Crystal. I love your books and plan to read all of them, eventually.

Respectfully yours
, Nick Adams.

Samantha sat there
shaken to the core. It was Nicholas. It really was Nicholas, her student, who had emailed her in confidence, having no idea who she really was. No one knew.

Her thoughts ran the gamut as she tried to process what had just happened and what she was going to do about it.

She was still breathing deeply from the intensity of her orgasm as she tried to think. She needed to figure out how she was going to answer him. First, it was obvious that he was good if that was truly his work, and she didn’t think that Nicholas was the kind of young man that would plagiarize another’s efforts. Therefore, she felt that he could actually compete in the market place. She certainly didn’t want to do anything to discourage him. Where in the hell did he get all of that experience she wondered?

She knew what the right answer should be but didn’t know if she was strong enough to tell him and then have to deal with it
later as Mrs. Jones.

“Fuck, fuck, f
uck,” she said loudly. That pretty well sums it up, she thought. She never drank in the middle of the afternoon but she was going to make an exception today. She headed for the wine cellar, opened a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, and poured herself a glass. She then retired to the rear veranda to ponder what her response would be.

As she sipped her wine,
she felt the crotch of her panties and realized just how turned on she was. Nicholas had done this to her. He had converted a mild mannered, somewhat conservative, erotic writer (unless that’s an oxymoron) into a raving, sex-starved lunatic. Now, every time she thought about the large bulge in his pants, it made her squirm and get that certain tingly feeling, down deep within her womanhood, and that was a problem, she thought. Whoever taught him about sex did one hell of a good job, she mused.

“Oh well, I will just have to deal with it,” she whispered
, as she took another sip of wine.

Dear Nicholas, F
irst, I want to tell you just how much I enjoyed your letter. Thank you for all of your compliments about my work. It’s great that you are taking a creative writing class in your senior year, for it will be helpful to you whether you write erotica for a living or just as an avocation.

Now, concerning yo
ur brief, but rather compelling, description of your teacher, it would appear that you have a fairly serious crush on her. You must be careful not to let her know about your feelings. However, I doubt that it would alter or change her feelings toward you because a lot of teachers are aware that some of their students develop very strong feelings for their instructors. Your writing skills are exceptional, and I’m not just blowing smoke. You are very good, so keep up the writing.

I have pondered as to
whether you should tell your teacher about your desire to write your final paper as an erotic romance. After giving it considerable thought, the only answer is that you must tell her. She is a professional, and she will respond accordingly. If you decide that you want to be a writer, you must write about what you’re interested in. Otherwise, it won’t work for you. So there you have it. Please drop me a line once in a while to let me know how it’s going, and, by the way, I want to read the rest of your encounter with your instructor, it made me wet.

Lovingly yours, Crystal.

“Well crap, I got that done,” she said. Now it’s time for another glass of wine, she thought, because Mrs. Jones, most likely, will have to deal with that horny young man tomorrow morning.

“Nicholas
, wherever you are right now, if you can do it in person, half as good as you can do it on paper, wow!” she mumbled.

Nicholas always checked his email
the moment he got home from school, and this was no exception. “Holy cow,” he said, when he saw that she responded to his email. How cool is that he thought. He read the letter four times making sure he understood everything that she said.

The
re were three things that he remembered the most. First, if he was going to be a good writer, he had to write about things that he was interested in. That sounds familiar, he thought. The second thing was that his writing had made Crystal Summers wet, and she wanted to hear what happens with the rest of the story. The first two were easy, but it was the third one that was kind of scary. Thinking about asking Mrs. Jones if he could write an erotic romance for his final paper was a lot easier than actually walking up to her and asking her in person. He wasn’t sure that he actually had the courage to do it. However, he kept remembering Crystal’s words that Mrs. Jones was a professional, and she would be able to handle it.

The following morning Nicholas was up early with the thought that he was actually going to ask her.
All she could say was no, but he knew, if she did, that it would be terribly embarrassing.

Mrs. Jones had thought about
nothing but Nicholas the entire evening. The wine only helped to calm her nerves because, in her imagination, she had already had sex with him. She couldn’t believe that she was really having those thoughts about a boy that was twenty-three years her junior. It was obvious though, that he wanted her in a most desperate way, and the mere thought of having sex with him got her juices flowing. She had to get that off her mind and stick to her professionalism.

She drove to school the following morning with a lot of trepidation
, wishing that she had told Nicholas not to ask his teacher if he could write an erotic story. Oh well, what’s done is done, she would just have to deal with it.

As usual
, Nick sat in the center of the front row hoping that Mrs. Jones would, at some point, sit down at her desk. She was wearing her usual tight skirt, high heels with a button down blouse with just a whisper of her cleavage showing. His breath quickened just thinking about how beautiful she was.

He didn’
t care how much older she was. He wanted to be with her, in the worst way, but he knew that it would never really happen. He could dream, however. After all it was his fantasy and isn’t that what erotic romance was all about, he wondered. Unfortunately, Mrs. Jones did not sit down the entire period. She stayed at the blackboard the entire time.

She
was self-conscious the entire period as she gave her lesson for the day. Now, the problem was that she knew what he was thinking, and she didn’t think she could face him with such a short distance separating the two of them. She knew he was praying that she would sit down and part her legs for him. There was no way she would be able to stand up to the heat of his gaze or the lust that she now knew was in his eyes.