Frank Markser - Teaching swapping

"Right. And I'm free last period too," he offered, regaining some of his composure after the shock of hearing her voice instead of the one he had expected.

"Why don't you come by as soon as you can then," Grace suggested. "We can have a drink and see how we feel. Okay?"

"Okay! Great," Tommy replied, his pulse beginning to race as he detected the promise in her voice. "Say about two-thirty or so?"

"If that's as soon as you can make it, fine with me," she teased. Then she laughed and added, "Just don't waste any time with those dikes from the women's physical education department."

"Don't worry about that," Tommy put in, feeling bolder by the minute as he heard her expressing her own anticipation and interest. "I never waste time with women who are duds."

She laughed again, louder this time. "I'm sure you don't, lover. See you later."

"Yeah, later," Tommy responded, and then they hung up.

It was all he could do to keep his mind on his work until he finished with the last group of students. When they had finally dispersed with the buzzer signaling the end of sixth period, Tommy grabbed up the small bag containing his street clothes without bothering to change from his coaching shorts. He left the office in the gym the way it was, knowing that the custodian would lock up before the day was over and ran to his car in the parking lot.

It was close to three o'clock when Tommy's wife Linda finally decided she needed to talk to somebody. She never expected her husband home before at least four or four-thirty, and she felt she really needed an outlet for her confused feelings before she had to face him again.

After thinking about it, she knew there was only one person who would be willing to listen, and perhaps would have some good advice for her.

Grace Furness.

She hated to do it, even though she liked Grace well enough to become close friends with her. But she had formed an almost instantaneous aversion to Grace's husband Fred, and she felt this would always stand in the way of any intimate contact socially with Grace. Even so, she decided, there just wasn't anybody else she could talk to, and Grace was conveniently nearby – you could see the back windows of the Furness apartment across the courtyard of the condominium.

Without any further hesitation, not even bothering to call first since they lived so close, Linda slipped on her sandals with crepe rubber soles and stepped out of the apartment.

Speaking to the other young wives she encountered on the way, Linda looked at their unconcerned smiling faces and wondered if any of them had gone through the same experiences when they were first married that she was now going through. They all seemed contented and happy, and it was hard for her to believe that they could have had any serious problems. She reluctantly admitted to herself as she waited for the elevator up to the fifth floor that it was possible her difficulties with Tommy were all her own fault.

It seemed impossible, but maybe she was just too darned prudish in her outlook on sex, she reflected. She had always thought of herself as a liberated woman who had rejected the outdated ways of her parents' generation, but who was to say that some of their outmoded thinking about sex hadn't been so deeply instilled in her from an early age that she didn't even know it was affecting her.

She sighed heavily as the door of the elevator opened onto the fifth floor corridor. It'll be difficult, she told herself as she turned left and started for the Furness' door, but I've got to try to be absolutely frank with Grace, making it very clear what it is I want to ask her about. She was trying to form the words in her mind for all the questions she had – mostly about the perverse demands Tommy had been making since they were married, when finally she found herself standing outside the thin wood door of Grace and Fred's apartment.

Her index finger was poised over the button of the doorbell, ready to ring, when suddenly she froze in place, the unexpected sounds coming to her ears through the door shocking her into immobility.

"Let me suck you first," came the voice of Grace Furness, husky with passion and desire. She and whoever she was talking to must have been just inside the foyer entrance to the apartment, her words were so clear to Linda's hearing.

There was a mumble of a man's lower voice saying something she couldn't understand, followed by the harsh metallic sound of a zipper being opened.

"Oohhh, it's so big and hard, lover," came Grace's voice again. "Can I kiss it here?"

Instead of an answer, Linda heard a low moan of pleasure unlike anything she had ever heard before. She stood like a stone statue in the hall, the overpowering sounds rushing through her mind so loud she thought she must be about to faint and fall to the floor. The moaning male voice continued for what seemed an eternity, and then Grace's voice came to her through the door again.

"Mmmmmm, you've really got a nice prick," Linda distinctly heard her say. "Come on into the bedroom. You can hear everything through these paper-thin doors."

There came the sound of retreating footsteps inside, and then there was silence, only the deafening rushing in Linda's mind going on and on as she tried to comprehend and accept what she had just overheard without meaning to eavesdrop.

Abruptly, as though a warning signal had gone off inside her head, she turned and raced down the hallway to the stairwell, not willing to wait for the elevator again. She ran until she was back in her own home, confusion running rampant through her thoughts.

She had unwittingly discovered something about the wife of her husband's friend and colleague which she would have given all the money in the world not to know. And she had been just about to ask Grace for personal advice! A wife who was obviously being unfaithful to her husband.

Of course, Linda reminded herself without being convinced, it was possible that Grace's husband had come home from school earlier than usual, but that wasn't likely. And besides, the obscene act Grace must have been performing on the other side of the closed door to her apartment was almost unthinkable to the young wife's mind, even with her own husband. That had been one of the very subjects she had wanted to ask Grace about if she had found the courage to do so, but now it seemed forever impossible.

There was only one thing to do, Linda finally decided as she nervously prepared herself some iced tea to vainly try to calm her nerves. She would have to try to work it out in her own mind without any outside help.

She added inwardly to herself, I have to forget that I ever even thought of going to Grace Furness for advice. I have to forget that I know anything I shouldn't. I couldn't face either Grace or her husband again knowing that. I wasn't there. I wasn't there, she kept repeating until finally she thought the unintentional knowledge she had was emptied out of her memory.

But deep in a secret recess of her inner mind, the question she had not verbalized hung unanswered: Who was the man with Grace Furness?

As Grace led him toward the bedroom, Tommy Singleton felt his blood rushing wildly through his veins. He just wasn't able to believe this fantastic woman. He had come to the door thinking that the two of them would have a round-about conversation on the topic he had come to discuss with her, perhaps even ending up with her saying she couldn't go through with it with another man than her husband. But she had totally surprised him.

As soon as the door had closed behind him, she had thrown her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her, pressing her hot moist lips against his. Her tongue began spearing into his mouth hungrily and she groaned hoarsely as though she had been starved for it for years and years. Her warmly trembling body ground up against his with all her strength, and as she pressed and squirmed her loins into his, he was aware of his aching penis beginning to throb and jerk up inside his restricting jockey-strap under his gym shorts. He felt the twin mounds of her firmly resilient breasts pushing tightly into his muscular chest, the thin t-shirt he wore and her flimsy sheath dress not preventing his feeling the tiny erect buds of her nipples digging into his skin like hard buttons.