David Ingram - Swinging Teachers

She was sitting on the bed crying when Barney came home. She told him she'd had a couple of drinks to keep warm at the game and then stopped at Grace's for a couple more. She said she got sick and started crying and couldn't stop. Barney was very sympathetic and forgave her. He put his arm around her and consoled her. One thing led to another and they were kissing – she was so hungry for his mouth, and then they were naked and he was on top of her. She guided him in herself, wanting his cock more than she ever had before. She moaned softly while he fucked her, and she came violently, almost convulsively.

"Don't stop, honey, go all the way," she moaned.

"Have to," Barney grunted, and pulled out, "don't wanta get you pregnant, not yet, anyway." He grabbed his cock and his jizz squirted onto her pubic push. He sighed deeply and milked the stuff out onto her belly. "Was good," he said.

"Yes, it was good. I really made it," Leslie said. She realized how good it was, but it had been just as good with Ted. Loving Barney like she did hadn't made any difference; she had come as hard with Ted and enjoyed every bit as much. Fucking was fucking. She didn't feel like crying anymore.

Ted tried to make contact with her several more times, and failed. He finally quit trying, but Grace fucked Jack regularly the rest of the school year. She and Leslie were never again friends so Leslie didn't know that Ted finally got to Grace, too.

Leslie continued to masturbate, remembering how good it had been with Ted, wishing she had let him fuck her again. She didn't feel guilty anymore, it had been too good.

She felt very little guilt from this afternoon's adventure. It had been good too – not quite as exciting as the first time, but good. She arched her back, probed into herself with her fingers. She was about to come.

She had thought about it many times in the past year and it always made her hot. And then this morning… she was feeling neglected by Barney, anyway, and she had already cheated once, one more time wouldn't hurt, and…

She started coming and bucked against her hand. "Aw, fuck, that feels good," she cried, "love that feeling!"

"Hey, Thorn, wait a minute."

Barney Thorn stopped and turned at the sound of his name. Mac Lancaster, Center High principal, double-timed to catch up with the lanky coach.

"Hi, Mac," Barney Thorn said.

"You're a tough man to catch up with," Mac said. "If you have a minute, let's go down to my office and chat."

"Okay," Barney said, "practice doesn't start for a while." He started down the hall a step ahead of Lancaster.

Now what the hell could he want? Barney thought. It couldn't be the team; we've played two games and won two games. And at Center High, winning football games was everything.

In the principal's office, Barney fell into a big wing chair and watched Mac push the door closed and slide into the chair behind his desk.

"Is something wrong, Mac?" Barney asked casually.

"Wrong? Oh, no, hell no; I just like to get to know my teachers, and you're a very elusive fellow."

"Well, between teaching English and coaching the football team, I manage to keep the old nose to the grindstone."

Mac winced; he detested cliches. "Yeah, I guess that's true, but I still like to talk to you once in a while. You're doing a good job, Barney; the team looked great last time out."

"I got lots of material, Mac. There's some really talented kids on the team."

Yeah, Mac thought, and they'll still be calling them kids when they retire from the pros; they'll still be acting like kids, too. He leaned back in his chair and fished a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "Cigarette, Barney?" he said.

"Don't smoke. Bad for the lungs. Bad for the heart, too; why do you know…"

"Spare me, I've heard it all before, Barney. Is it okay if I have one?"

"Sure, Mac, it's your funeral," Barney said.

Mac hated jocks, and he could see that Barney was a jock to end all jocks. He took out a cigarette and fired up. Opening a drawer in his desk, he took out a bottle of Johnny Walker Red and a couple of tumblers. "After a long day with the brats, I need a snort." He looked at Barney. "Now don't tell me you don't drink, either."

Barney didn't drink much, but he didn't want to say so because Mac's tone questioned his masculinity.

"Just a splash, Mac. I gotta keep in shape to keep up with my kids. Don't want liquor on my breath; gotta set an example."

Total jockism, Mac thought with disgust. He poured the Scotch until both glasses were half filled and handed one to Barney.

Barney took the glass, carefully studying his adversary – everyone was an adversary to Barney. Center High was a big school, almost two thousand students, and a big step up from his last job. If he made good here, a college job was sure to follow. At any rate, it was too good to screw up.

"You've been here over a month, Barney, and we still haven't seen you and your wife socially. Several of us get together once or twice a month and we thought you and your wife might like to party once in a while."

"We don't do much socializing during football season, Mac," Barney said.

Barney wondered what the old devil was up to. Mac was only ten years older than Barney, who was twenty-eight, but he looked like an old lecher to Barney. He knew Lancaster had been principal at Center for eleven years and was in solid, and he didn't want to lock horns with him, but that shouldn't mean he was forced to fraternize with him.

"We have a damn nice school here, Barney, and some damn nice people, when you get to know them," Mac said, taking a slug of scotch. "We have some real dolls around here, too. Like the little brunette that teaches sophomore English."

"You mean Miss Riley?" Barney said.

"I figured you'd noticed her if you're a man. And it's Mrs. Riley."

"Oh, she's married?" Barney said.

"Yeah, but it doesn't make that much difference. Her husband is a salesman… you know, out of town a lot." Mac winked. "She is really stacked, and quite modern. I don't think she wears a bra half the time."

Barney looked down into his glass and swirled the liquor. He hadn't taken a drink yet. He was blushing.

"You're a hard man to talk to, Barney. I can see I'll just have to be blunt. A few of us like to do a little swinging now and then and I wondered if you and your little wife might like to join in the fun."

"Swinging? You… don't mean wife swapping… do you?"

"Yeah, as long as everyone is agreeable."

"Naw, Mac. I don't think Leslie would… hell no, I'm sure she wouldn't be interested," Barney stammered, his color deepening.

"Would you?" Mac asked.

"Well, I… I don't know. I don't think I like the idea of another guy sleeping with my wife."

"Do you like the idea of you sleeping with some other guy's wife?"

Barney knew he was trapped. "I'm a male… ain't I?" he said. It was very important to Barney to be male, to belong to that fraternity of he-men that drink their whiskey neat, and fuck their women standing up. Even if he really wasn't that way.

"Would you… say, dig going to bed with my wife?" Mac asked.

Barney was thoroughly flustered by this time. He took a swallow of Scotch and spilled most of the rest on his pants leg. He remembered that upon meeting Mac's wife, Winnie, he thought she looked like a great lady. She was built for comfort and had that bedroom look about her.

"Well, if you don't dig Winnie," Mac said when Barney didn't answer, "how about Mrs. Riley? She comes to our parties once in a while. Usually when her husband is out of town. He's a little prudish, but she's not," Mac said, actually enjoying Barney's discomfort. Actually, Julie Riley had never been to one of their swap parties, but Mac had been working on her and she had hinted that she might give it a try.