“I don’t see that happening. Besides, I’ve had 3 consecutive years of foul grimaces. I’m going for the school record.”
The photographer flashed him a tired smile and activated the flash and shutter just as his grimace took on epic proportions of evil.
“Just out of curiosity, mind you, what IS the school record?”
“23 years I think.”
The photographer laughed.
“You’ve got a ways to go. You sure you can be surly for that long?”
The teacher picked up his keys from where he dropped them under the stool.
“Surly isn’t the problem. Getting the sad, pathetic goatee just right so I look like my own evil twin is the hard part. I couldn’t grow plants on a Chia Pet let alone hair on my face.”
“Like Evil Spock or Garth Knight from Knight Rider, right?”
He laughed as he was walking down the stairs.
“EggZACTly. Try not to lose your sanity.”
She giggled again as she changed the film cartridge in preparation for the next group of students already entering the auditorium like a herd of wild, well, teenagers. She watched his butt wiggle once in his jeans and then got back to her camera. As he mounted the steps to exit the auditorium, he turned to look at her once more and then shook his head.
He was sitting, feet up on the corner of his desk, reading when he saw her walk by his room. He tried to jump up which given his current position was just a recipe for a hernia, but he managed to get out of his chair without any major damage to his abdomen and dash to the doorway to get a glimpse of her shapely skirt-clad backside exiting the door to the school. He half-walked, half-jogged to the doorway and yelled after her.
“Hey!!! I’m smiling now.”
She turned to see him hanging out the door trying not to appear too eager. She laughed and shook her head.
“Naw. It’s no good now. The light’s all wrong. My equipment is all packed up. You’re about to fall flat on your face.”
He had time for a startled WHUH?? before the doorstop slipped loose, and he gracelessly tumbled to the rubber shoe mat. Laughing, he got up and brushed himself off as she walked over to him.
“Are you alright?”
He nodded gravely.
“A couple of years of intensive therapy, and I should at least walk again. I’m not so sure about what else I’ll be capable of.”
She caught the twinkle in his eye in spite of the dour expression on his face.
“I just happen to be a licensed tumble therapist.”
“No kidding. That must have taken you years to master.”
“10 years of blood, sweat, tears, and bloodstained tumbling mats.”
He grimaced and giggled.
“Ewwwww. All I get out of that are images of what COULD have happened to Kerri Strug on that vault.”
She looked at him and shook her head. He saw the look and give her his best doofy smile.
“I’m not gonna ask for a private sitting if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not into Candid Cameras.”
She laughed and swatted him on the arm.
“Good, I don’t think I can hook a microscope up to my camera setup at home.”
He laughed loudly and got down on one knee.
“Get engaged to me?”
“Didn’t I already answer that?”
“Shit…Go out on a date then?”
She jerked her hand out of his.
“That I can do. Pick me up here at eight.”
She filled his empty palm with a business card. He pocketed the card.
“My name’s Michael.”
“Mine’s on the card.”
He giggled as she turned around.
“Mistress Vexa. Dominatrix for all your submissive needs.”
She stopped dead in her tracks and did an admirable job of a fake blush.
“Dammit, I gave you the wrong card. I mean, that was a friend’s. I’m just uhhhhhhh holding it for her.”
He laughed again as she turned to jump into her truck. As she drove by him, he yelled.
“Wear something with kneepads. I want to show you my tumbling routine!”
Michael tried once and then again, and finally a third time before the stupid end of the tie sat where it was supposed to under the business end of his tie which was a pale blue covered with S-shield Superman symbols.
He stood in front of the mirror and tugged the tail of the shirt up a little.
“Hope she likes the Man of Steel.”
He grabbed his keys and wallet and hopped in his car and was waiting outside her house/studio at 7:57 when she waved him in from the front door. He shut the car off and sort of half jogged up the front steps. He peered in through the screen and then opened the door when he heard her yell from somewhere in the house.
“Cmon in. I’ll be out in a minute. You can check out some of my shots in the showroom to the right.”
“’Kay. Don’t forget the kneepads.”
He heard her snicker as he walked into the showroom. The wall was covered in a tasteful display of seascapes and lighthouses with the occasional portrait thrown in. One small picture caught his eye. It was a stream of some kind of pop just falling into a glass. It was so out of genre compared to what else was there that it drew his attention like a magnet. He heard her walk in behind him and turned to see her pinning her left earring on. He indicated the photo with a nod of his head and a raised eyebrow.
She got his gesture and giggled.
“Oh, I was trying to make a living as an ‘artiste’.”
She made the invisible quote marks with her hands.
“I’ve since learned that taking pictures of things I like and things that actually make money is much more conducive to health and happiness.”
“Keep it? To remind me what’s important.”
He nodded and smiled at her.
“You look wowsers. Zowie even.”
She giggled again.
“Well at least your compliments are unusual as well as cryptic. That means I look ok?”
“Yes. Beautiful, gorgeous, stunning…pick one.”
“(d) All of the above.”
Michael laughed again.
“I figured you might appreciate a little teacher humor.”
“Very little teacher humor.”
She stuck her tongue out at him.
“So where we going?”
“If there’s someplace you’re fond of, we go there. If not, I know just the place.”
“Lead on, MacDuff.”
Michael squinted at her.
“I teach math. Kindly confine your humor to mathematics related topics.”
“There isn’t anything funny about math.”
He nodded in agreement.
“Very well. Carry on. So, any place you have your heart set on?”
She shook her head as he opened the car door for her. He snaked his hand down past her and threw his baseball mitt in the back seat.
“Sorry. Forgot to move it after the game last night.”
She slipped past him and the delicate scent of her hair wafted by his nose.
“Hey hey. Pantene!!!”
She laughed as he closed the door and jogged around to his side.
She did a model hair flip as he buckled himself in.
“Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.”
“Hate you…because you’re beautiful? Hmmmmmm. Let me think. Beautiful AND funny, or just funny. Hmmmmmmmmmm. Hmmmmmmmmm. Ok I won’t hate you.”
“Where we goin’?”
“This isn’t one of those kidnap the sexy photographer movies is it?”
He shook his head gravely.
“Oh no. I think that plot is a little played out and cliched, don’t you?”
She giggled and made a mock brush with her hand across her forehead as if to wipe away nervous sweat.
“Whew. I was getting worried.”
“Oh wait. Is that the one where the dashingly handsome and devastatingly witty teacher kidnaps a beeyoutiful photographer and takes her to dinner?”
Donna shook her head seriously.
“No. It’s not that one.”
“Damn. He nails her in that one.”
Donna mock sneered and him and gave him a wicked ‘hmph’. Michael giggled again, and Donna joined him. Much witty banter, light sexual innuendo, and a shared order of Carlos Murphy’s Nachos and Monster Cookie later, they were fast becoming more than friends. As Michael put his car in Park in her driveway, he turned to her.
“Call me impulsive—
“I’d rather call you late at night when I’m really lonely.”
“Whoa. Ummmm. Damn, you derailed that train of thought.”
Donna giggled wickedly.
“I can be so naughty.”
Michael snickered and adjusted himself.
“Let me deal with a blood flow issue in my pants and finish my question.”
Donna stared pointedly as Michael wiggled trying to relieve sudden pressure.
“Anyhoo, assuming the weather is spiffy tomorrow, would you like to spend the day at the beach on Lake Michigan? I know this great little beach that I’m sure you’ll love.”
“Are we clairvoyant now?”
“I dunno about you, but I am. It’s got a beautiful lighthouse, a wicked set of cliffs with crashing waves, and a cute little sorta secluded beach.”
“You said the magic word.”
“Secluded? Sure you can go topless. I won’t mind.”
“No, you dip. Lighthouse. Pick me up at 8 tomorrow morning.”
“You’re not one to hide your feelings.”
“Well duh. How many dates have you had that pointed out a trapped erection and asked you to wait while he adjusted it?”
Donna pondered that.
“True. You’re the first.”
Michael flexed a bicep.
“Who’s your daddy?”
Donna shook her head and leaned over to give a quick kiss on the lips followed by a nip on his lower lip.
“I had fun tonite, teacher-boy. 8 am sharp.”
“I had fun too. Wear something see-thru.”
Donna giggled and slipped out of the car with an extra tushy wiggle thrown in for good measure. Michael blew her a kiss and backed out of the driveway.
At 7:58 am, he pulled into her driveway. She was sitting on her front step wearing a tight Powerpuff Girls t-shirt and white cotton shorts. Her hair was pulled up in a co-ed like ponytail, and she wore reflective silver sunglasses under a wide-brimmed hat. She stood up pulling a canvas shoulder bag with her. Michael watched her bounce to the car and whistled under his breath.
“Morning. Did I mention I REALLY like the Powerpuff Girls?”
Donna smiled and slid into the seat next to him.
“You’re awfully horny for 8 am.”
“Any guy seeing what I’m seeing would be in exactly the same predicament.”
“Another blood flow problem?”
“Yup. Bubbles, Blossom, and Buttercup NEVER looked so good.”
“By the way, you look pretty hot too. I like the sleeveless look.”
“Awwww how cute. You blushed.”
Michael blushed more.
“Hey this is neat. What happens if I keep complimenting you?”
“Oh, I turn red and blow up like a cherry and then explode.”
“Cool, but I’ll save the exploding part for later tonite.”
Michael looked at her and caught the naughty glint in her eye.
“That’s a great plan.”
Donna laughed and began fiddling with the radio.
“Can I pick a station?”
“Donna, you wear that shirt, and you can do anything you want.”
She settled on a retro 80’s station, and they spent the drive dredging up memories from the decade of long hair bands and parachute pants. An hour or so later, he pulled off the main road onto a gravel side road that curled back up the hill they had been skirting. Scant moments later, the car came to a stop in a dirt parking lot populated by a beaten pick-up and an equally loved SUV. Michael slipped out of his seat as Donna watched his butt wiggle again. He popped the trunk and pulled out a duffel bag and cooler.
Donna looked around but saw no path.
Michael swung the cooler between his car and the SUV indicating that direction.
“It’s why it’s so secluded. No obvious path. Everyone knows the lake is nearby, but the tourists can’t find the path.”
Donna shrugged and ducked under a branch of the maple tree he had indicated. They walked through light undergrowth for about half a mile when the sounds of waves crashing against rocks heralded their impending arrival. Donna stepped through a thicket of tall grass and found herself sinking into a sandy hill with blue skies beyond and an imposing rock cliff with the aforementioned lighthouse on her left.
“Thru the dale and over the hill to Michael’s beach we go.”
“You have that backwards.”
“What are you, the Nursery Rhyme Police. Now march. We’ve got a lot of beaching to do.”
Donna giggled and sprinted up over the dune and down onto the beach proper. There was a family of 5 at one end, and an older couple was walking hand in hand down the waterline. Donna headed off towards the deserted end of the beach closest to the cliffs and the lighthouse. Michael trudged along behind her increasingly burdened by the cooler and bag. She finally selected a spot halfway between the water and the dune. She dug into her bag pulled out a towel and a folded umbrella and set up shop as he plunked down tiredly next to her.
“This damn cooler weighs a ton.”
“I’ll carry it back to the car.”
“Sure. After all the ice has melted.”
“Who said women were dumb? So what’s on the agenda?”
Michael pulled out a Denver Bronco towel and set it down next to hers.
They dipped into the cooler of plenty and had a light breakfast of fruit and juice.
“Save some strawberries for later.”
Donna smiled and nodded.
“I like how you think.”
They finished their morning meal and shucked their overclothes. They tried not to strain eyeballs oggling each other as they stripped. The Powerpuff Girls and shorts disappeared in favor of a red bikini top and matching bottom.
“Guh. Red is your color. No doubt about it.”
Michael slipped off his shirt to reveal his bare chest and another pesky blood flow problem. Donna noticed immediately.
“Someone else agrees.”
Michael blushed again but also noticed a pair of protrusions on Donna’s bikini top.
“Looks like I’m not the only one with tightness issues.”
Donna blushed to match her bikini.
“I’m just cold.”
“In 85 degree weather?”
“Yeah. I’m from the Sahara. This is cold for me.”
She stuck out her tongue and then flounced off across the beach to the water. Michael sighed as he watched her shapely bottom and then followed her. They cavorted in and out of the water, grabbing and playing and groping themselves nearly into a stupor of overheated foreplay. Michael’s penis ached inside his swimsuit maintaining a near constant state of erection the entire day. The few times when they were thrashing in the water, and he hugged her from behind had nearly made him dizzy as he pressed his hips into hers. For her part, Donna’s breasts tingled dully all day long from the constant arousal of her taut buds, and her bottoms were wet in the water or out. At lunchtime, they lay on their blankets and had salads from the neverending cooler. They were fighting the urge to run into the bushes and satisfy a craving or two.
Eye contact was becoming hazardous. They would look up at each other, break into an uncomfortable silence punctuated by mental flashes of their bodies entwined in passion, and then look away and not so surreptitiously adjust themselves. They joined in a beach volleyball game and more than once collided together to end up sprawled one atop the other in the sand. Furtive gropes of a soft curve there and a hard bulge here stoked an already dangerously out of control fire.
Dinner was an exercise in torture. Even the simple act of eating bread and cheese with a light wine turned into prolonged foreplay. Lips parted ever so slightly to drink wine sent shivers down the other’s spine. The soft texture of the cheese on the tongue made the other wiggle and shift uncomfortably on the towel. It had literally been an hour since either had spoken. They were both afraid of spoiling the moment when Michael broke the ice as the sun began to set.
“Do you want to go up on the cliffs and look at the lighthouse?”
Donna nodded sipping her wine with wide eyes gleaming in the fading light.
“Bring the wine.”
“And the towels.”
They walked up the winding path to the top of the cliff and laid the towels down so the lighthouse was just to the left of their lookout over the lake. Far off in the distance, flashes of lightning illuminated the sky. They lay quietly drinking the wine and enjoying the view when Donna rolled over on her stomach. Her breasts swelled outward under pressure from the ground, and her firm tush gleamed in the last of the sunlight.
“I’m not sure I can stand this anymore.”
Michael rolled over next to her and rubbed his hand across her back.
“Yeah. I think I’m going to blow a hole in my swimsuit.”
“You silver-tongued devil you.”
“Admit it. I bet your nipples are so hard you could use them as a paper punch.”
Donna laughed and swatted him across the head.
“Geez, you sure know how to romance a girl.”
Michael giggled and rolled her on her back.
He slid over her, pressed his hips into hers, and kissed her deeply on the lips. The scent of the wine lingered sweetly as his tongued pressed into her mouth hungrily. She spread her legs to let his slip between them and felt the crushing heat of him. His throbbing penis sent a warm tingle up her spine to the base of her neck. She wrapped him in her arms and pulled him down closer to her. Very slowly Michael began to raise and lower his hips pressing the fabric of his suit against her bikini. He kissed her neck as she did the same each kissing softly at first and then harder, sometimes biting, sometimes sucking sending jangled electrical impulses up and down their bodies. His hands slipped up onto her chest and under the bikini top to press over her fiercely aching nipples.
Like completing a circuit, his palms sent fiery gouts of pleasure across her breasts and down to the center of her. She moaned and arched her back to keep the pressure on. He pinched them softly in counterpoint with the deliberate rhythm of his hips grinding into hers. She gasped at each pinch, and the rasping of her voice in his ears made him tingle from head to toe as if every nerve ending were firing at once.
She gasped as he slid down and took one of her buds between his lips. The hot touch of his breath and the delicate brush of his lips was making her faint. After so much mental stimulation, it was almost too much for either of them to take. Michael’s penis was literally pulsing with pent up energy. Each aching throb could only quenched by pressing into the smooth fabric of her bikini bottom and the luscious jewel
concealed beneath. The hair on the back of his neck was standing on end, his heart pounded in his ears.
“Oh god. I can’t take this anymore.”
“YOU can’t take this anymore. I think I’m going to melt.”
He tore off her top and clumsily united her bottom as she tugged and ripped at his swimsuit. She grabbed his engorged cock in her hand and squeezed. Precome ran freely from the purplish head as he moaned and lay his head back. He moved to slide over her, but she scooted out of the way, pushed him over on his back, and then slipped her tight body over top of his. Donna’s nipples brushed against his chest making them both dizzy with passion as her silken flower pressed down on his penis. She knelt over him and began to slide up and down.
He moaned softly and gutturally as she enveloped him. The sensation was as close to heaven as he could imagine. Still on her hands and knees, she pressed back and down with her hips, burying him deep inside her, and she held him there breathing holding her breath and arching her back. The pressure on his penis made him weak, and he felt his heart flutter. She was tingling from head to toe as he touched her deep inside. Her arms began to shake, and she let her breath out in a whoosh as she collapsed down on him sliding ever so slightly back and forth on his stomach.
They kissed again. This time more like animals, and his hand found her firm buttocks and squeezed them with each soft caress of her vagina. She arched her back a little and began to move more deliberately. All the way up so that his head barely touched her swollen lips and all the way down where he could press against that heavenly place so far inside her. His whole world was focused on his hips and the throbbing head at the middle of them. Each motion of her achingly beautiful body raised goosebumps on his body, and a powerful pressure was building up in his loins. Dazzling fireworks were going off inside her head as she pressed down on him. These luscious explosions seemed to lift her with them into the sky higher each time. The flash and the bang increased in tempo in her head, and a warmth born of a day long arousal swept across her body.
She pushed herself up into the sitting position impaling herself on him. The fireworks burst inside her head one after another…faster and faster…higher…louder…louder…louder…until they were deafening…short-circuiting her nervous system…sending waves of fire to her neck and back to the center of her. She came as the heavens above them opened up. Large droplets of warm rain doused them, sluicing off her breasts and down her flat stomach, across his heaving pecs. She squeezed him and released him again and again, driving him to the edge of despair and back. The pressure in his loins was unbearable. His tush ached. His legs tingled. He gritted his teeth to hold onto this passionate torture as long as he could. Finally, the fireworks released her, and she gasped for air, still sitting upright on his throbbing cock. She looked down at him, his face screwed up in a look of pleasured pain and began to grind down on him.
Her hips forced themselves down onto him. He grunted and gasped, clawed and squeezed in the torrential downpour. His cheeks burned, and his shoulders tingled hotly. His back arched in time with her powerful grinding. His hands went numb, and the tips of his ears were aflame. She ground her hips into him. Down and up. Down and up. He leaned his head back and screamed her name over and over, and finally as lightning illuminated her gorgeous body and thunder shook the heavens, he exploded inside her. With the breaking of the dam, his penis leapt inside her spilling over and over until he lay quivering in the summer shower with her collapsed on top of him.
They lay in the warm rain for almost an hour. Her on top of him. Whispering to each other in the gathering storm. Finally they ran for the car, exhausted, sated, and hopelessly drained. They collapsed into the seats, still naked and shivering from their lovemaking. Michael dragged two worn blankets from his back seat, and they huddled under them as the heater worked to warm them. A bottled water or two later (the last of the seemingly endless provisions stored in the cooler), Donna turned to look at Michael as the lightning crashed out to sea.
“You know. I’ve never made love at the top of a lighthouse before.”
Michael smiled in the darkness and opened the car door.