I’d been married to Dan for just on eight years when I started my affair with Adam. I guess it’s true what they say about the seven year itch. It just took me an extra year between getting the itch and deciding to scratch it.
It’s 1984 and I’ve just turned thirty. I’m juggling a full-time teaching job with raising three children. The sexual adventures of my youth seem like a distant dream.

It was an eerily foggy night. Adam had delivered my evening newspaper and told me the mandatory joke. It was one that was full of sexual innuendo and I briefly wondered if he was going to make a pass at me. He touched my hand and squeezed as he delivered the punch line, then as our laughter subsided, got up to leave.

I was vaguely disappointed.

Then we were on the back porch, both of us looking out into the fog. I was standing behind Adam and slightly to one side. We could see nothing except a neighbor’s light, looking like a glow worm off in the distance.
It was like we were alone in the world.

My heart started to thump wildly a fraction of a second before Adam turned and kissed me.

Tentatively at first. But then I opened my mouth and responded. There was no thinking involved. Just mindless passion.
We stood there, tongues exploring each other’s mouths, bodies pressed tightly together, finally satisfying our pent-up lust.
I could feel Adam’s hard cock pressing against me.

And I was so, so wet. If I’d been sitting on a chair, I could have slid off it.

I hadn’t been so wet for years. In fact, not since my Uncle Frank introduced my hormone raging eleven year old body to sex.

You can buy Teachers Pet short story Chapter 1 HERE.

It’s 1967, and I’m thirteen.

I’d been a Sea Scout since I was nine. My Dad had taken me boating on the river for as long as I could remember, and I just loved being on the water, so joining the Sea Scouts seemed a natural progression.

The problem was the Skipper. He was an old man (actually, I think he was probably in his early fifties, but that seems like an old man to a thirteen year old.) He was married, with a couple of grown up kids. His official Sea Scout title was Commodore, but he got all of us to call him “Skipper.” Privately, I called him The Groper.

At thirteen, I was just starting to develop, not like the young teenage girls I used to teach before I retired, with their Lara Croft chests, big hips and periods for the last two or three years. Still, I had a pert little ass and small breasts with dark nipples that pushed their way through the tank tops that were part of our summer uniform, especially when they got wet. Which was often.

At the end of the day, as we girls were getting changed to go home, a sixteen year old named Marie came up to me. “I noticed you had the Groper all over you today,” she said. I looked at her, too astonished to speak. Had she been reading my mind?

Pretty much as soon as Dusty started going out on the boat, the Skipper stopped pestering me, and I could see him going the grope with Dusty. Funny how I’d never noticed before but once you’d been through it yourself, it was so obvious.
The big difference was that, unlike me, Dusty seemed to know what was going on, and didn’t seem to mind. She even encouraged it. I could see her lean back into the Skipper when he had his arms around her and the wheel and she actually giggled when his hand “accidentally” touched her breast.

You can buy Teachers Pet short story Chapter 2 HERE.

The cub leaders all had names from the Jungle Book. Akela was the leader, and she was assisted by two matronly ladies who were known as Baloo and Bagheera. Appropriately enough, Baloo was a large, heavy set woman and Bagheera was sort of sleek and cat-like but in a matronly sort of way, if you know what I mean.

These three women made me feel wonderfully welcome, though I realized later it may have had more to do with the sheer exhaustion that comes with looking after some thirty eight to eleven year old boys for an entire afternoon than with my natural charm.

I came along to meetings on a trial (no payment) basis for two months, then had to submit to an oral examination to display what I’d learned about the cub movement. Apparently I passed muster, because I was duly sworn in at a ceremony one Friday night in front of all the cubs, and given my official Cub Scout name. I was Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, the mongoose. The boys called me Ricky.

The boys went quiet. They knew what was going on. Cam’s mouth fell open, then shut again as an anticipatory grin spread over his face. One of his henchmen whispered something to him, which Peter told me much later was “Get her in the tits, Cam.”

As Cam literally launched himself into the air at me, I planted both feet on the ground, bent my knees and swiveled my shoulders, so that the sharp edge of my shoulder planted itself in the soft space just under Cam’s breastbone. All the air went out of him in one great whoosh and he fell to the ground, writhing in pain and trying to draw breath in great sobbing gasps.

You can buy Teachers Pet short story Chapter 3 HERE.

We were on our way. This seems silly now, but there’s something so special about your first car. I guess it’s just such a huge step towards total independence. My heart was pounding, and I had butterflies in my tummy. Dad’s voice broke in on my thoughts.

“How much do you want this car?”

“More than anything.” Well, almost, I thought, suddenly remembering my first sight of Peter’s penis as he dropped his shorts, a reminiscence I wasn’t about to share with my father.

“Not as much as the dealer wants to sell it. Let’s talk about the gentle art of negotiation.”

Dad drove the little Morris Minor out of the car yard. I think Bruce would have had a heart attack if I’d tried. And in any case I felt so nervous I probably would have backed it into one of the other cars for sale. But as soon as we were out of sight, Dad stopped the car, walked around to the passenger side, opened the door and said “Move over.” He got in, pulled the plastic dealership sign off the windscreen, where it had been stuck with four suction cups and put it away out of sight in his jacket.

Dad wrote down another figure on one of Bruce’s pieces of paper. He showed it to me. It was exactly the trade-in price plus twenty percent. He put it down on Bruce’s desk and wrote our phone number underneath it. “That’s our best offer.” He was all brisk businessman. “Phone us if you change your mind.” He got up and walked out and I, remembering my promise, got up and went with him. “That noise,” said Dad, though I hadn’t heard anything, “was the sound of our friend’s jaw hitting the floor.”

You can buy Teachers Pet short story Chapter 4 HERE.

The bush camp was an annual Cub and Scout ritual. It was supposed to teach the boys some of the survival skills of a bygone era, such as pitching a tent, making a fire and cooking breakfast on it, reading a compass, following a trail and shitting in a hole in the ground. It was also supposed to be great fun, and generally was.

It’s 1973 and I’m nineteen.

I knew Peter wouldn’t thank me for it, but I hoped that the essentially leaderless Browns would find a better role model in Peter than they had with Cam. At twelve going on thirteen, Peter was now the oldest Cub in the pack. This was his last year.

Well, I did need that shampoo desperately and he was just a kid after all, though more muscular with his shirt off than Id imagined. Not that I’d really spent any time imagining him with his shirt off, or anything else for that matter. “OK,” I said, “it’s a deal.”

I pulled Peter down so that we were both sitting on my camp bed, still locked in what was now a passionate embrace. Peter’s hands cupped my breasts gently, hesitantly. When I didn’t object, he started squeezing, but clearly wasn’t sure what to do next.

Peter swears that the next thing that happened was totally unplanned. Or at least that it had no more than half a second’s planning behind it and that if he’d given it the full second, he’d never have done it. But spur of the moment or not, Peter suddenly stood up, stripped off his shorts and jocks in one motion and said “Look what kissing you does to me.”

Hesitantly, as if it were a bird that I might frighten away, I reached out and touched it. Peter jerked, then was still again. Neither of us had uttered a word. Now I stroked along the underside with my fingertips, then touched one finger to the little hole in the middle. “Do you like that? Is that good?” I whispered. Peter just nodded. I had an overwhelming desire to take his penis into my mouth, but didn’t know how he would react.

You can buy Teachers Pet short story Chapter 5 HERE.

Chapter 12 is titled Double the Fun and in it I tell you all about my first MFM threesome.

You can get a free copy from Threesome Sex Stories. Just click on the link to the left, scroll down to the bottom of the page and fill in your name and email address. You'll be able to download the free short sex story straight away.

See also:

Group Sex Stories

Lesbian Sex Stories