An Early Evening Rain

Info silverhawk
01 Mar. '18

The main street through campus was always a mess this time of morning, but it was the only way I could get to my parking place.  I thought I might be lucky enough to catch the light by the Student Union, but it turned yellow when I was still a couple cars away.  As I cursed and slowed to a stop, I reminded myself it was Friday, and in anther seven days, spring break would start.   For a whole week, I wouldn’t have to fight the traffic, and I could do some of the things I’d been putting off, too.

I was ticking off my mental to-do list when there she was, just like she was every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning, pushing her bike across the street.  She waved at me, gave me a big smile, and then pedaled off.

Theresa had been one of my students the semester before, and I hadn’t forgotten her as I did most of the students who took my classes.  She’d been a good student, both in the grade she earned from me and for her interest in the subject, but that wasn’t why I remembered her.

Theresa was a very confident young woman, confident enough to debate with me in class, and intelligent enough that I had to stay on my toes to win those debates.  We finished the semester not as student and teacher, but as two people with somewhat conflicting views on the subject matter, but with respect for those views and each other.  That had never happened before, and sometime in the last weeks of the term, my respect turned into a fantasy.

That fantasy was enhanced by her appearance.  Unless one looked closely, Theresa wasn’t much different from most of the other girls on campus.  Her comfortable clothes didn’t do much of anything to reveal her figure, but when they did, that figure was not a young girl’s figure.  Theresa was all sensuous woman.

In the early fall, she sometimes wore shorts to class, and I often found myself wondering how her thighs would feel to my fingertips.  Sometimes she wore T-shirts that, if she moved just right, outlined her full breasts, and I had fantasies of pulling the T-shirt over her head, removing her bra, and caressing her.  When she stood up after class and bent over to retrieve her backback from the floor, her jeans tightened not over the skinny butt of a girl, but over the softly rounded hips of a very desirable woman.

Then there were Theresa’s eyes.  Those dark pools sometimes carried a glint of mischief and at others, the sultry look that seemed to say “come to me, pleasure the woman that I am, and I’ll pleasure you beyond your dreams.”  They always sparkled with life.

She sometimes made it difficult to maintain my train of thought during class, and I struggled through the last half of the semester to avoid looking at her.  Looking at Theresa meant I would fantasize about Theresa, and fantasizing about Theresa was dangerous.  It was strictly forbidden for any faculty member to have any type of relationship with one of his students.  A suspicion of that meant an inquiry.  Proof of that meant termination.  Even though it meant I wouldn’t be seeing her three times a week anymore, I was relieved when the semester was over.

The first day of the next semester, I saw Theresa again, riding down the bike path at the edge of one of the campus streets.  She waved at me as I went by and the fantasy crept back into my mind.  It was still there when I drove home that night.  I was remembering the day she wore loose shorts to class, and because she was slouched down in her seat, I could see a little way up the leg of those shorts.  That little way was far enough for me to see her light blue panties and far enough to cause a vision of her naked to flash through my mind.  That vision came back to me, and I almost missed the red light at the next
intersection.

When I did stop, there she was again, straddling her bike and waiting for the light to change.  She waved and motioned for me to roll down my window.  She smiled when I pushed the button and the passenger window lowered.

“Hi Mr. Turner, how you doing without me this semester?”

“Pretty good, I guess, and you could call me Jack, now that you’re not in my class.  How about you?”

“Same old grind.  Study, work, eat, and if there’s time, sleep.  You must live out here too, huh?”

“Yeah, I have a duplex about a block from here.”

“Just moved out here myself, but I’m almost ten blocks further out.  Couldn’t find anything closer, but it’s OK.  I don’t mind riding my bike.”

Just then the light turned green.  Theresa smiled, said “See you later, Mr…I mean, Jack”, and rode across the intersection.  I made my left turn toward home.

It had been the same every Monday, Wednesday and Friday since then.  I always saw her on my way to my office, and she always waved.  I always saw her on my way home, and she always waved then, too.

What had started out as a reasonably nice day for that part of the year had turned into a real mess by that afternoon.  It was cold, not freezing, but close, and about two, it started to sprinkle.  By the time I locked my office door and headed to my pickup, the sprinkle turned into a downpour. It was raining so hard I had the wipers on fast and still couldn’t see very well.

A block before the light where I turned left, I saw Theresa, a very wet Theresa, riding her bike home.  There wasn’t much traffic, so I pulled into the right lane, set the emergency blinkers and got out.  Theresa coasted to a stop in front of me.

“Theresa, you’re going to freeze.  Let me take you home.”

“I – I – I – I’m O – O – Ok.  It – it – it's o  - o – o – only a f – f – few m – m – m – more b - blocks.”

“Nonsense.  You’re so cold you’re teeth are chattering.  Now get in my truck while I put your bike in the back.”

When I stepped back inside the truck, I reached over and felt her hand.  It was like touching an ice cube.

“Theresa, You’re frozen.  How long were you out in this?”

“S – Since it started.  I was at the l -  l - library.”

“Well, tell me how to get to your house.  You need to get warm, and you need to get warm fast. “  

I set the truck heater on “hot” and turned the fan on to its fastest speed, then followed her chattered directions to her apartment.

Theresa was shaking when I helped her out of the truck and through her front door.  She kicked off her soaked tennis shoes and pulled off her dripping socks, then padded toward a door I figured was her bathroom.  About ten minutes later she came back out wearing a short terrycloth robe, and her hair was wrapped in a red towel.  Yes, those were the same legs I’d remembered from that fall, and the old thoughts came back.  She smiled when she saw me looking at her.

“I must look like a drowned rat.”

“No.  You’re really kind of…”  I hesitated.  Knowing we were alone and she was not wearing anything under the robe had my mind spinning.  I didn’t want her to think I was trying to suggest anything.

“Kind of what?”, Theresa laughed.

“Cute…and fragile.”

She laughed again.  “Never thought of myself as fragile, but you ought to see yourself.  You’re dripping all over my carpet.  Why don’t you go take off those wet clothes while I make us some coffee.”

“Uh…well…I probably should be leaving.  I wouldn’t have anything to put on anyway.”

“No.  Go take them off.  There’s an extra towel on the bar.  I’ll give you a blanket to put on, and I’ll toss your stuff in the dryer.  It’s the least I can do after you brought me home.”

When I walked out of her bathroom wrapped in the pink blanket, I felt pretty silly, but I was drier and warmer.  Theresa was just sitting two cups on her coffee table.

“Cream and sugar?”

“Cream, no sugar.”

Theresa went back into her kitchen and came back with a spoon and jar of powdered creamer.   As she bent down to put it on the table, her breasts welled up in the v of her robe.  She plopped down on the couch, and the bottom of the robe fell open revealing a very soft looking and very inviting inner thigh.  She casually flipped the robe back over her leg and it promptly slid off again.

I sat down in the chair opposite the couch and tried to keep the blanket wrapped around me.  The coffee tasted good, and sipping it gave me time to think of a way to get out of there faster.  Theresa was so close, so desirable even in a robe with her head wrapped in a towel.  I didn’t want to make a fool of myself, or worse, let her know that she was exciting me.

“Thanks for bringing me home.  I was a lot colder than I thought, I guess.”

“It wasn’t any trouble.  I’d do the same for any one of my students.”

Theresa giggled.  “I don’t know about that.  You didn’t stare at any of the other girls in class.”

“What?”

“You used to stare at me…every class.”

“I’m sorry if it felt that way.  I do try to make eye contact with each student sometime during each class.  It tends to keep them attentive.”

She smiled.  “It wasn’t my eyes you were staring at.”

“Theresa, if you think I was behaving improperly – “

“I didn’t say I minded.  Just that you stared at me.  Made me feel…sexy I guess, to think that you’d like looking at me.  You did like it, didn’t you?”

Theresa hadn’t changed.  She was still the same confident, direct girl who’d debated with me in several classes.  I knew it was no use making excuses.

“Well, yes, but it wasn’t like you think.”

Theresa leaned forward and her robe gaped open a little more.  She had more cleavage than I’d imagined.

“And what would I be thinking?”

“We’re too different in age for me to be thinking that.”

“But were you?”

I didn’t know what to say.  If I said no, Theresa would know I was lying.  If I said yes…well, I didn’t know what she’d think, but it probably wouldn’t be good.

“I think I’d better leave, Theresa.”

“You can’t, not unless you’re going out in this rain in my blanket.  Besides, you didn’t answer my question yet.”

“OK…yes…I though about you…about how it would be if…well…you know.”

Theresa smiled sheepishly.

“Mr. Turner, I thought about you too.”

“That was just because I was your teacher and you looked up to me.”

“No.  It was because of the way you looked at me and the way you talked to me.  I didn’t feel like a girl when I was in your class.  I felt like a woman.  You looked at me like I was a woman, and you talked to me like we were the same, instead of like most teachers talk to me.  After a while, I started wondering if you’d treat me like a woman in other ways, and how that would feel.”

“Theresa, you’re a student and I’m a teacher.  I can’t – “

“I know the rules, but I’m not in any of your classes.  The dean might not like it, but she can’t do anything as long as…as long as we’re both willing.”  Theresa patted the couch beside her.  “Come sit here and I’ll show you how willing I am.”

It was her eyes that made the decision for me, the beautiful dark eyes I’d dreamed about so often.  That night, the sparkle was still there, but deep inside there was a smoldering glow, a glow that said Theresa was telling me the truth, a glow that spoke of desire and need.

Her hand on my chest sent a tingle up my spine, but when she slipped that hand inside the blanket it was every fantasy I’d ever had about her coming true.

Theresa snuggled up to me, and whispered in my ear, “Show me what you were thinking about me.”

It had been a long time since I’d touched a woman like Theresa.  Her skin was incredibly soft, and that silken softness was molded into sensual curves that had me aroused with the first caress.  Theresa caught her breath when my hand slipped inside her robe and touched the swell of her breast.  She reached down, untied the belt of the robe and opened it.

Her breasts were full, firm but yielding, and beautiful, and as my fingertip brushed her nipple, the large, dark bud started to tighten.  After another soft caress, it swelled into a taut mass of ridges.  The dark circles around each nipple were also large and another few caresses tightened them into more soft ridges and tiny bumps.  It was as if her nipple was straining to be touched, to be stroked, to be kissed.

If her nipple wanted to be kissed, Theresa wanted to be kissed even more.  She had been nuzzling my neck and nibbling on my cheek.  When I turned to look into her eyes, she looked back for a moment, then lightly pressed her mouth to mine.  I kissed back, and Theresa melted into me.  Her lips opened slightly, then pinched my lower lip, then mashed against me in a kiss that told of a passion I’d not felt from a woman in a long time.

Theresa pulled away from me gently.  Her dark eyes pulled at my soul as she licked her lips sensuously and then whispered, “Let’s go in the bedroom.”

Theresa lay naked and smiling beside me, and I took a moment to drink in the sight of ripe womanhood that beckoned me.  Her dark hair was still damp, and gave her already pretty face an air of the erotic.  The silver ring in her eyebrow only added to that feeling.  Her beautiful breasts sat softly on her chest, her nipples still taut and swollen.  My gaze wandered from their soft undersides down over the little rounded tummy that I love seeing on a woman to the dark curls that covered her mound and on down to her soft thighs.  

“Do you like me?” She whispered.

I didn’t answer.  I just covered her left breast with my hand and kissed her right nipple softly.  Theresa responded with a tiny little moan, put her hand on the back of my neck and pulled my face to hers.

Over the months of seeing Theresa in my class, she’d become a very desirable woman in my mind.  In my hands, against my body, she was more desirable than I could have ever imagined.  My hands traced down the swell of her flanks to the curve of her hip, then around to the little valley between her thighs.  Theresa rolled toward me and draped one leg over mine, opening that valley to my caresses.

Her inner thighs were tight and smooth, and my caresses brought more passionate kissed from her warm soft lips.  My fingertips found the soft hair between her thighs, then the soft folds of her sex.  As I cupped her mound Theresa purred a little moan into my throat and opened her thighs wider.

Those soft folds opened slightly and my fingertip slipped inside them.  Theresa was already slippery with arousal, and the ripples of her inner lips slipped easily beneath my fingertips.  I stroked each slender lip gently, tugging slightly and then slipped my fingertip to her entrance.

As my finger slipped inside Theresa, her body arched slightly into my hand.  She gasped, then sighed.  I slipped my finger back out, then up to the little firm nub at the top of her inner lips.  When I stroked along the length of that little swell, the effect was electric.  Theresa moaned and rocked her hips into my hand, then gasped again.

Theresa’s movements were taking her hips more and more over my legs, and when she couldn’t stretch any further, she raised herself on one elbow and rolled on top of me. Her soft breasts flattened against my chest as she spread her legs wide.  I slipped my finger back inside her passage.

She was wet and ready…and I was going crazy with the need to feel her body around me.

“Theresa, are you sure about this.”

Her answer was to reach behind her, find my shaft and move it to her entrance.

She was tight, tight and soft, tight and soft and slippery with desire when I entered her.  She caught her breath at first, then pushed back at my thrust. Once I was buried deep inside her, Theresa raised up on her arms and looked down at me.  

Her beautiful eyes were dilated with desire and half closed as she rocked slightly over my shaft.  I caressed the sides of her breasts and began slowly stroking in and out of her satin passage.  Theresa pulled her thighs to my sides, smiled, then her expression changed to that of a woman far away from everything except the sensations flowing through her body.

I don’t know how I looked, but I know what I was feeling.  Theresa’s body was wonderful, her beautiful breasts gently swaying over me, her soft little tummy pressed to mine, her hips spread wide as she pressed down into every stroke. From time to time, her entrance contracted around my shaft and a little shudder swept through her body.  All that, the sight of her responding, the warmth of her body clasping me, the sensation of softness resisting my thrust when she pushed down hard was exquisite.  Theresa was more woman than I’d ever imagined, and more woman than I’d ever experienced.  

The poets speak of a man and woman becoming one, and that night, in Theresa’s bed, I felt what those few words of rhyme mean.  In a few short minutes, she became almost a part of me, melding into my body, surrounding me with the searing sensations of primal need, climbing with me up the slopes of passion to the peak of ecstasy.  

Theresa’s lips parted slightly and she began to breathe harder.  I felt a tighter contraction around my shaft and then her body stiffened.  Her voice was soft, deep and husky with desire.

“Oh…oh…yes.”

Theresa’s hands tightened on my shoulders as she bore down over my next thrust.  Her hips rocked quickly and she groaned again.

“Oh God, don’t stop.”

I couldn’t have stopped if my life depended on it.  Theresa’s response only fired my own need, a need to feel her body convulsing around my shaft, a need to feel my essence blending with hers, a need to feel the lightening flashes as both of us fell into the oblivion of release.

That release came quickly.  Theresa gasped, then cried out softly.  I felt the first wave sweep from her quivering thighs up to her tightening passage and then ripple deep inside her.  Her body bucked once, then again, and I felt a surge of wet warmth flood my stroking shaft.  She cried out again and the spasms of climax shuddered through her body.  

I just let go and enjoyed the sensations.  My body took control and my seed splashed into that flood again and again.  Theresa shook until she couldn’t hold herself up any longer.  She collapsed on my chest and buried her face against my neck.
 
We laid there like that for what seemed like a very long, very enjoyable time.  I kept slowly stroking in and out of her and enjoyed the little contractions that caressed my shaft from time to time.  Theresa’s heart beat pounded against my chest, rapidly at first, then slowing as she eased down from the orgasm.  She still lay there on my chest, gently kissing my neck until I slipped out of her body.

I stroked her back and gently squeezed her round hips to keep her there.  I had enjoyed the realization of a fantasy, and didn’t want it to stop.  Her whisper breathed warmly against my skin.

“Was I as good as you thought I’d be?”

“Not good, Theresa…incredible.”

“Mmm  That’s the way I feel too.  I’ll bet it’ll feel just as wonderful tomorrow morning too.”

“Tomorrow morning?”

Theresa giggled.

“Yes, unless you want to do it again tonight, too.”

Well, some say wishes never come true, and others say to be careful of what you wish for, because sometimes they do.  My wish did, and I wasn’t sorry.  I wasn’t sorry the next morning either, or the first day of spring break when she showed up at my door with a suitcase.  Now that classes have started back up, Theresa sometimes spends the weekends with me, and those weekends are fantastic.

In my mind, I know it isn’t anything more than a physical attraction and that we’ll part company some day, but that attraction is enough for now.  Theresa is a very desirable woman and an incredibly erotic lover.  She’s also fun to just be with, and in spite of some stares, we have fun with each other out of the bedroom as well as when clutching each other in the heat of desire.  

Yes, fantasies can come true.  All it takes to make that happen is to wish hard enough…and an early evening rain.

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