Frank Levy: The voyeur teacher

Mary Frances herself was delighted to see what a horny little boy the new one was. Getting a boner on at the dining table the very first night. Excellent! For now, she would let him stew in his own juices for a while. It certainly looked like he had enough juices of his own. She would get her jollies watching him jerk off in the supposed privacy of his bedroom until she was ready to start playing around with him, exciting him to fever pitch and dropping little hints of the possibilities for the future.

Tonight, Mary Frances had other matters to attend to. She had one of the girls just to the stage of harvesting, as she put it. It was the busty redhead that Peter had been staring at as a matter of fact. She thought for a moment of the picture of Peter's blond cock hair mingling with the hairy red bush of Belinda's plump pussy, and the vision was enough to get her clit hard and throbbing for satisfaction immediately. That experiment would have to wait for awhile. Belinda was the target for tonight for Miss Ferguson's passions.

The beautiful Belinda was sweet sixteen, but she had been more than kissed. In fact she had been raped by her older brother. She had utterly worshipped her older brother, Brant. He was so manly, so handsome, so suave. A few months earlier he had even invited her to join him and his date with her date for a trip. Belinda had been delighted and excited. She and her date would have a great time with Brant and his girl, smoke a few joints, drink a little wine, make out under the big moon and stars. It hadn't worked out that way.

Belinda was a happy, sexy girl in her young way, but she wasn't ready for what had happened. Her brother and his girl had suggested that they all go in for a skinny dip. That was fine. She had done that lots of times before.

But when they came out, Brant and his girl didn't just make out on the blanket – they fucked like a couple of rabbits. Belinda was a little put off. But Brant and the others had gotten drunk and high on pot. Then Brant wanted to switch. He hadn't even acted like he knew who she was, just another cunt for his hot cock. He was so strong and so heavy hung.

Belinda loved him, but not like that, not then, not in front of the others. She had cried and pleaded with him, but the others, her date and Brant's date, had held her down while her brother's dark shape blotted out the bright moon. He had taken her virginity. It hurt so terribly at first, tearing and ripping her tender flesh, his huge prong like a steel crowbar plunging into her body. And then in the blood and tears, in spite of her honor, her body had responded to his. She denied it. It couldn't happen. It couldn't be happening to her, not Brant, not her own brother, not this way.

When it was over they had taken her home. She hadn't cried or told on him or anything like that.

Belinda just curled up inside herself into a numb ball and stayed that way for months. She wouldn't talk to anyone, took no interest in what went on around her.

She ended up at Miss Ferguson's school. Mary Frances was enchanted by her creamy beauty and the marvelously rich red hair. They talked many nights, late into the night in front of the bright flames of the fire in the huge old-fashioned fireplace in Miss Ferguson's sitting room.

"You were hurt by a boy, weren't you, Belinda, my dear. But I know that that isn't what is bothering you, is it, dear?"

A tiny nod, a slight trembling of the lush, red, young lips.

"The boy who hurt you was your brother, Brant. You love Brant very much, don't you dear? I have seen his picture. He is a very handsome boy, and you love him and respect him and look up to him. When he hurt you, it was so very much worse than just any boy being bad to you, wasn't it?"

A single silver tear ran down her cheek. She nodded.

"But that is not what is so bad, is it, my darling child?" They had never gone so far before in the gentle process of uncovering the girl's psychic wound. The girl shook her head.

"You still love him, and you realize now that you wanted him to love you all the way, but not the way he did. Not rough, not with other people, not without telling you the way he felt first."

The girl opened her mouth and twisted it into a great heaving hiccupping sob of relief and sorrow. Someone knew how she felt, what she felt.

Tonight, tonight the new boy who was so horny would have to wait his turn. Tonight she would heal the girl's pain and bring her new pleasure and joy in life. Miss Ferguson waited impatiently for lights-out time, stirred the fire and put on a new log, waited for the gentle knock on the door of her sitting room. Belinda came in, her deep red hair down around her shoulders, her firm fresh body clean and covered only by a dressing gown of soft flannel.

Miss Ferguson was also undressed. She sat the girl down beside her on the rug in front of the fire. She curled her feet up under her and put her arm around Belinda, just two girls having a heart to heart talk in front of the dancing flames of a cozy fire.

But they didn't talk much.

Mary Frances put both of her arms around Belinda and just held her for awhile, gently rocking her body back and forth until she felt the quivering and tension draining from the girl. Belinda lifted her face up to Mary Frances with full, smoky, sleepy eyes and opened her lips. Miss Ferguson lowered her own full mouth down, touching lip to lip in an electric brushing of the sensitive surfaces. Then she kissed with more warmth, feeling the girl yield herself, her tongue just exposed between her teeth. Mary Frances licked at it, and tasted the clear, clean moisture of the girl's mouth for the first time. She restrained her passion until she felt the girl open her mouth further and venture her own tongue out to meet Mary Frances'. She sucked Belinda's tongue into her mouth and let her explore it to her own satisfaction. Then she plunged her tongue into the mouth of the young girl, hearing her moan in her excitement, her surrender to the sexual passion which was building up inside her body.

Mary Frances pulled her mouth away and kissed the girl's cheek and then over to her earlobe which her tongue tickled and her mouth sucked, nibbling at the delicate flesh with the tips of her teeth. Her own passion was getting away from her control. She pushed the girl gently down onto the rug, sliding one hand into the opening of Belinda's dressing gown and feeling her warm, soft, smooth flesh waiting there for her touch. Her mouth nibbled and kissed its way down the girl's pulsing throat, feeling the beat of her pulse growing faster as she surrendered to the need she felt so strongly.

Mary Frances slid her hand in further and cupped the soft globe of one of the girl's breasts in her hand, cradling its firm weight and the warm blood that raced through the fine blue veins of her delicate skin. The nipple erected, hard and taut with urgent need under the gentle caress of her fingertips. Her lips were down now to the delicate ridge of the girl's collarbone, to the edge of her dressing gown. Slowly, smoothly, she peeled the lapel of the gown back revealing the milky white skin of a perfect redhead. No freckles, just the creamy delicate shadow of a tan masking the pink glow of the girl's health shining through. She opened the gown further until both of the girl's young, full breasts were open to her sight. They were perfect beautiful mounds of sensitive flesh, so delicate and defenseless beneath her lips and tongue, warm with the girl's throbbing desire and taut with the tension of unfulfilled need. She kissed one nipple and felt the firm flesh harden still more between her hot lips and darting tongue.

Belinda was panting with the pleasure that Miss Ferguson was giving her. If only Brant had been this loving, if only he had been this tender, how wonderful it would have been! But just then she didn't want her brother; she wanted Miss Ferguson. The older woman was setting her body on fire.