Myra Kaine - Lesson for teacher

Sadly she watched the banners come down, the tables folded up, the parents gathering their children to go home. Mike was working again like a demon, directing the kids, dismantling their fair. Valerie turned to gather up the remaining beribboned packets of wild flower seed. Tears were very close to spilling down her cheeks but she forced herself to the task at hand. The children mustn't see her cry! The "system" had won but they would find that out soon enough. At least they'd had a wonderful time and felt some pride in their not inconsiderable accomplishment. They would butt headlong into the "system" soon enough on their own. In a way, perhaps her very stubbornness had speeded their disillusionment.

"Don't take it so hard. Kids had a good time." Words that were meant to comfort only made Valerie angrier for they were accompanied by Bruce's familiar beard rubbing against her face and his hand patting her backside through her petticoats and skirts. He smelled as though he had been drinking.

"It's not fair!" she wailed furiously, jerking free of his wandering hand.

"Establishment never is, baby. I've been trying to tell you… that's why I dropped out."

"But all people can't be so cruel. The kids worked so hard… and not one board member showed up!"

"You didn't really expect them to? Hell, I knew they wouldn't You're a maverick, baby. Like I been telling you. You don't belong with those town pricks but you keep trying to."

"Bruce! Stop it!" Valerie protested in a hissing whisper for his arm had snaked around her velvet corseted waist and his beard was tickling her bared shoulder above the low cut blouse.

"Aw, hell, it's dark. Kids are mostly gone anyway. Come on to the house and meet some "real" people. Got a little party going. You need a little cheering up."

"Oh no, I couldn't. There's too much to do. I don't feel like a party anyway… and… well… I wouldn't be very good company."

"You afraid of getting fucked again?" he laughed lewdly.

"Bruce, for God's sake," she shushed. "Stop that kind of talk."

"I told you… it's a party. Mike's coming and some of the other folks too."

"Please, Bruce… I couldn't."

"You're just determined to turn yourself into one of them, aren't you? The damned board spits in your face and you still want to be like them… still want to be Miss Prissy Do-gooder. I thought maybe I showed you the other day… but I guess you're always going to be a hypocrite. Hell, I just wanted you to meet some 'real' people for a change."

His words stung on the fresh wound of her humiliation and disappointment. "All right," she said wearily, "I'll come for a little while."

The ride down the canyon in Bruce's truck was a bumpy and precarious one for most of it he maneuvered with one hand on the steering wheel. His right arm and hand kept straying casually down over Valerie's shoulder to brush his fingertips lightly over the swells of fleshy full breast tops above the neck of her blouse.

"Bruce, stop it."

"Just a little feel, Baby. Won't have a chance to be alone with you once we get there. Too damn many people."

"I thought these 'real' people were the reason for my coming."

"Well, they are… but, hell, I like to be with you alone too."

Having disengaged his hand from her tingling upper breasts several times. Valerie jumped when she felt his hand reach down under the dash board and slide insidiously up her ankle and calf. A hot shiver of delight ran up her leg wherever his warm fingers touched.

It was Bruce who had unleashed the sleeping witch inside her flesh, the wanton, willful, sensuous bitch, but after her unbelievable experience with Taylor Crane she had used every argument possible to convince herself that Bruce had been carried away that time. After all they had been dating for some time and finally he could no longer stand it. It was a natural reaction with a hot blooded man, a widower, a man who cared for her. Resolutely she had put Crane out of her mind. That had been the mistake of an inexperienced young teacher who was terrified of her boss. Mike had not been so easy to dismiss. Her transgression with him could only be explained by her prolonged, and perhaps Bruce had been right, unnaturally prolonged virginity. Mike had been a mistake, the kind of mistake any girl could make at least once. She had promised herself in the weak light of dawn, after a sleepless night, that she would be nice to Bruce and try to understand his point of view… that she might even let him make love to her again. Perhaps her blindness had made her misjudge him. A man who really cared for a woman naturally wanted her physically as well as mentally. He hadn't always been a drop out and a hippie. After all, his background was very much like her own… and probably all he needed to take his rightful place in society again was a woman to care for him. Probably in his grief at his widower state he had not really cared about anything anymore. Besides, it wasn't an unrealistic hope that a man eventually married the girl he deflowered.

"You cold, baby? You're trembling."

"No, I'm all right."

"Well, here we are." He cut the engine and gathered her close. "How about a joint?"

"A joint?"

"Never mind." He reached across her to the glove compartment. Christ, this broad was so dumb except for book learning. Unscrewing the cap on a pint of whiskey, he held it to her lips. At least she ought to know what whiskey was.

"Come on… have a jolt, You're nervous as a cat and shaking like a leaf."

Obediently Valerie took a sip and felt the liquid fire ignite and spread through her stomach. Once it was down it felt good. Between sips she let Bruce kiss and fondle her. The ache and disappointment and hurt were beginning to seem unimportant. She felt soothed and comforted by his whispered kisses against her mouth and throat and his warm hands smoothing over her.

"Bruce… I see light in the house. People are already there. Shouldn't you be there?" she asked drowsily.

"Pretty soon," he agreed huskily, his mouth sliding down her satin skinned throat while his hand snaked inside her blouse to cup her swollen breast up to his searching mouth.

Valerie drew her breath in sharply as his wetly heated mouth drew inward on her nipple, drawing the whiskey lust out of her like honey. "Ohhhh…" she sighed softly, letting the magic warmth of his hands and mouth sweep through her like a flood on a dried up plain.

His shaggy head buried against her yearning flesh as his hand moved to her knee and burrowed under the yards of cloth from her medieval maiden costume. Unconsciously her back arched, thrusting her breast up to his greedy mouth while his hand caressed her thigh upward and one finger found the leg band of her bikini panties and darted inside deftly.

Swiftly his finger slid into the moistly hot furrow and began sliding teasingly up and down the desire slickened slit. Jesus! She was one hot bitch, all right. He wondered how far along the party was, but it wouldn't matter. Valerie Fenton would fit right in.

She squirmed and whimpered faintly as his finger found the tiny nerve fretted button of her clitoris and sent now familiar electrical jolts hurtling through her flesh. Oh God! She was a wanton whore. Nothing had ever felt so good. She didn't care now about anything but the lecherous hands and mouth kneading and biting and caressing her lusting flesh.

"You're all hot and ready, baby," Bruce murmured. "Let's go inside so I can fuck you."

"But there are people in there." Valerie could see the lights and there were cars parked all around.

"Won't matter. It's a good party. You'll see. Real people."

Valerie found herself dragged from the truck. She felt fuzzy and a little unsteady from the overly strong whiskey and there was an ache in her belly somewhere. Maybe later they could make love when everyone had gone home. At the door to the big old house Bruce stopped and kissed her deeply, his hands unbraiding her coiled hair and letting it fall around her like a golden shawl. Seemingly unwilled now by the whiskey and his sure hands, Valerie let him.