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As the students from my last class of Friday filter out into the hallway, I take a deep breath, thankful that it’s now the weekend. I open my laptop and check my school emails.
“Please see me ASAP” shouts a message from Sandra, the school principal. “Oh, dear,” I think, “what have I done?” I pack up my things and wander down to the office.
“Hi, Pam,” the cute young receptionist says as she sees me.
“Hi, Jill, is Sandra in?”
“Yes, she just got free.”
I walk behind Jill’s counter and knock on Sandra’s door. “Come in,” shouts Sandra. I step in and close the door behind me, wary of my impending fate.
“Oh hi, Pam, thanks for coming down.”
“Of course, what’s up?” I reply.
“I was wondering if you have next weekend free.”
“I think so, let me check.” I pull out my phone and check the calendar. “I don’t have anything important, why, Sandra?”
“Bill Jackson was scheduled to go to a conference but can’t make it. I thought you might like to go.”
“Oh, when is it exactly?”
“The 26th and 27th — Saturday and Sunday. It’s in San Francisco. We have a room booked for Friday and Saturday night.”
I look at my phone, pretending to check it while absorbing this news. I’ve always loved San Francisco, and it’s not a long drive, so it’s easy to get to.
“Uh, yeah, I can go. What’s the conference about?”
“Various topics — you can select the programs you’d like to attend. I’ll send you the link so you can sign up and find out about it.”
“Oh, okay, thanks. Gee, I’ve never been to an out of town event.”
“Do you need a chaperone?” jokes Sandra. We laugh.
“No, I think I can handle myself.”
“Great, well let me know next week if you have any questions.”
“Sure, Sandra.” I leave her office and pass by Jill. She beams at me, saying “Have a wonderful weekend, Pam. I hope it’s lots of fun.”
Jill is always friendly and bouncy. I’m happily married, but lately, I’ve been curious about women. I have to admit I’ve had a few fantasies about Jill. Her body is so shapely and her smile is so inviting.
I drive home, half thinking about Jill and half wondering what the conference will be like. I hope that John won’t mind me going away alone. He’s never been the jealous type, so I hope not.
When I get home, I see that John isn’t home yet. I dump my laptop bag onto the kitchen table and walk to the bedroom, strip except for my panties and put on a comfy tracksuit. I pee in the bathroom and wash my hands and face before returning to the kitchen.
I pour myself a glass of Sauvignon Blanc and sit at the kitchen table. I open the laptop, find Sandra’s new email and open the conference link. Following Sandra’s suggestions, I register, putting “replacing Bill Jackson” into the notes field as she has instructed.
After receiving confirmation, I scroll through the programs. They run all day Saturday and then Sunday morning. I read through to see what they offer. I open one called Discipline in the Classroom. I haven’t usually had problems with my kids, but in the last couple of terms, I’ve had some disruptive students.
It’s an intensive program, running all day Saturday. The topics look like they might help me. The course is being led by Mary Constance, and there is a brief description of her qualifications. She seems competent, but from her photo, she doesn’t appear older than twenty-five. But as I look at her face, something in her seems to reach out and exude power over me. I click to register for the program. It’s confirmed.
I tear myself away and look for a course for Sunday morning. I choose Spreadsheets for Teachers, as I could use a refresher, and register for it.
I sip my wine and return to Mary’s photo, feeling myself being penetrated by her gaze. “Earth to Pam,” I hear through a fog. I tear myself away from Mary and turn my head. My husband John is standing next to me. “What got you all entranced?” he asks.
“Oh, hi John.” I smile up at him. “Uh, I’m looking at the conference that Sandra is sending me to next weekend.”
He leans down and peers at the screen. “Discipline in the Classroom. Hmm, is this a kinky thing?”
“Haha, no, it’s all about maintaining control in the classroom.”
“As I said, sounds kinky,” he jokes. “When is it again?”
“Next weekend, in San Francisco.”
“Ah, so my sexy wife is going to have a wild time in the big city!”
“Well, I’m going to get changed.” He walks off.
I read through the program description again, and I look at Mary’s picture. I decide to search for her on the internet and I find several photos of her, mostly professional. I check Instagram for her and find her profile. Wow, she looks so different when casual. She has several photos from a trip to the beach, in her skimpy bikini.
One is of her lying on a towel, smiling through the camera at me, her hand looking as if it’s sliding escort london up to her shapely boob. I hear myself gasp softly and I can’t tear myself away from her. My hands slide up my stomach under my loose top and brush the bottom of my little boobs. I imagine her hand cupping her boob, and I find myself cupping mine.
My nipples harden as I imagine her watching me. My fingers play over my boobs and reach my nipples, pulling them into full hardness. I moan softly.
“Don’t stop,” I hear John whisper behind me. I am startled that he has caught me, but his tone of voice makes it clear that he is enjoying the sight. He reaches down and lifts up my top. “Hands up,” he says, and he whips my top off. He sits opposite me, with a full view of my boobs.
“So you are hot for this woman? Are you going to seduce her?”
“Oh no, John, no.”
“Why not? We’ve talked about you wanting to be with another woman, and this one has you all worked up. You know I don’t mind the idea.”
Embarrassed now, I cover my boobs with my hands.
“No, Pam, keep doing what you were doing. I love it. I’m very excited. My cock is throbbing.”
I cup my boobs again and rub gently.
“That’s it, look at her. She’s looking at you. She wants you. Her fingers are caressing your boobs.”
With John’s urging, I fall back into the fantasy. She’s driving me wild, playing with my nipples and sending sparks through my body. I imagine her naked, her shapely boobs sporting big hard nipples.
“She’s touching your sensitive nipples,” John says, as I am doing it, imagining it is her fingers. “She’s exciting you so much.” I am going crazy.
“Now she’s sliding one hand down, rubbing your pussy through your panties, as she gently pinches your nipple.” My hand moves to copy John’s suggestions. My panties are soaked. I rub my finger up and down my slit as I pinch my nipple.
“Ah yes, she’s found your hard clit and is rubbing it.” I rub my clit and start moaning. “Mmm, yes, she wants to excite you so much, making you cum in your panties.”
“Ahhhh,” I moan, wanting that so much.
“She’s rubbing madly, wanting your cum. Cum for her, Pam. Cum for Mary. Look at her face as she makes you cum.”
I rub my clit wildly and pinch my nipple hard. I gaze at her photo and feel her psyche plunge deep into me. After a minute I scream, “Ohhh, yessss. She’s making me cum. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh.”
I rub and buck on the kitchen chair, cumming and soaking my panties. When I slow down, John says, “Come to bed.”
I see him walk off and I shake myself out of my daze and follow. When I get to the bed, he is lying naked on it, holding his hard cock up. “Fuck me,” he commands.
I strip off my tracksuit bottoms and panties and leap onto the bed and plunge my dripping pussy over his hard cock. I hold it deep for a few seconds, then I fuck him more wildly than I ever have, lifting up to his cock head then plunging back down.
John meets my motions with hard upward strokes. He pinches my nipples and I return the favour. We hump madly for a few minutes then John shouts, “Ohhh, I’m cumming.”
“Me too,” I cry as we share a massive orgasm. We take our hands away from our nipples and rest for several minutes as we settle down. Finally, I climb off of him and nestle in his arms.
“Damn, woman, if the mere thought of being with a woman makes you that hot, I’m all for you doing it for real.”
I smile and say, “Oh, it’s a lovely fantasy, but it’s just a dream. Anyway, she’s out of my league.”
“Don’t be so sure, my sexy Pam. You haven’t lost one bit of your passion.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I wouldn’t know the first thing about being with another woman, and she’s half my age.”
“Maybe. It’s a fun idea though.”
I drift off in John’s arms. When I come to, he is fixing dinner. I stumble into the kitchen and we smile at each other.
For the rest of the weekend, John keeps bringing up her photos, even printing a few for me to keep in my handbag. I know we have idly discussed my desires before, but he is seriously intrigued with the possibility of them becoming satisfied for real. We fuck many times as John encourages my fantasy of being with Mary.
The Next Week
I have trouble concentrating on my teaching this week. I keep having the image of Mary drift into my head any time I’m not actively talking or listening. On Thursday night, I pack the car with my clothes for the weekend and program my phone to take me to the hotel. On Friday, with every class having tests, I have time to daydream all day.
John has wickedly copied Mary’s bikini photo onto my phone, and I keep peeking at it while supervising the tests. Her gaze hypnotises me, and I imagine caressing her perfect boobs through her bikini, making her nipples hard before lifting up the top and playing with her naked boobs.
My brain swims in an erotic pool that whole morning. I barely remember talking with anyone, although I must have. At lunchtime, I run to the toilet dubai escorts in the staff lounge. I take down my skirt and panties and pee. When wiping, the contact with my pussy combined with the excitement of my morning’s fantasy makes me moan.
I’ve never masturbated at work before, and a brief wave of shame passes over me, but my body demands attention, and I can’t help dropping the tissue into the bowl and retrieving my phone to see Mary in her bikini again. I look at her and rub my pussy again. I’m dripping and two fingers wriggle inside, pulling out juice to rub over my clit.
I imagine Mary watching me, stripping off her bikini and rubbing herself, her excitement matching mine. Having been excited all morning, I cum quickly. I try to keep quiet in case someone else has come into the ladies’ room, but I can’t help moaning after a couple of waves.
I pant heavily after my orgasm subsides. I sit for a while, then wipe my drenched pussy, stand and pull up my panties. They are wet, but I didn’t bring a spare pair, so I make a mental note to go to the car and get a clean pair.
I pull up my skirt and open the door. Jill is leaning against the sink, lazily caressing her boobs through her shirt. I can just make out her hard nipples. She smiles at me and whispers, “That was hot! Were you thinking about me?”
I snap to attention and shout, “No!”
“Aw, I’m disappointed,” she pouts jokingly. “Well, whoever you were thinking about is very lucky.” She sees that I am holding my phone and grabs it from me. Seeing Mary’s bikini photo, she says, “Oh wow, is this your girlfriend? She’s hot.”
I am now flushed with embarrassment. My words spill out awkwardly, “Uh, no, not at all.”
Jill senses my feelings, places a hand gently on my shoulder and whispers, “Don’t worry, Pam. This will be our secret. I’ll never tell anyone. But I won’t forget.”
I quickly wash my hands and run out the door, down the hallway and out of the building to my car, where I tuck a clean pair of panties into my handbag. I sit in the car and absorb the events of the last few minutes.
I relive the masturbation, so quick and intense. Then I remember Jill smiling at me while casually fingering her boobs, having listened to me. She said she was disappointed that I hadn’t been thinking of her. “Has she had feelings for me?” I wonder.
Then Jill saw the photo of Mary and casually asked if she were my girlfriend as if it would be perfectly natural. “Wow, I guess Jill is lesbian, or at least bisexual,” I think. “What did she mean she won’t forget? Oh my, will she think of me now and masturbate? Has she already?”
I take several deep breaths. “Pull yourself together, Pam. You have two more classes to do today before you drive to San Francisco.” I turn my phone off and leave it in the console of the car to avoid the temptation of looking at Mary’s photo. I climb out of the car and try to suppress my erotic feelings on the way to my classroom, not entirely successfully.
I enter by the side door to avoid passing by the main office where I might catch a glimpse of Jill. After changing panties in the staff toilet, I manage to conduct the two test sessions with only occasional fantasies of Mary or Jill. On the way out, I forget the detour and I pass by the office. Jill sees me and smiles broadly and waves through the window. I return a little smile and run to my car.
I sit in my car thinking about what’s been happening to me this week. Mary’s photo starts it all, then I find her bikini shot. John encourages me to explore my feelings. Jill catches me masturbating and strongly hints that she has been wanting me. My goodness, I’ve turned into a lesbian slut — well, bisexual, since I still love John and we have great fucks.
My pussy starts dripping, and I grab several tissues from the box in the car and stuff them into my panties to avoid leaking all over my skirt on the drive. I retrieve my phone, turn it on, set it in the cradle and activate the map app. It’s a drive of just over two hours, so traffic must not be bad.
I hardly remember the drive. I manage to pay attention to be safe, but in stretches with little traffic, I keep seeing visions of Mary or Jill floating in front of me. In one vision, I see both of them, kissing and touching. I wonder what women do after that; I’ve never been with a woman, and I’ve never been into porn so I haven’t seen what happens.
I pull into the driveway of the hotel — a grand entrance. I step into the foyer and find the check-in desk. “May I help you?” the receptionist asks.
“Yes, reservation for Pam Stevens.”
“Certainly, one moment.” She taps and clicks and frowns. “Um, I can’t find it.”
“Oh, try under Bill Jackson. He can’t make the conference and I’m taking his place.”
“Sure.” After more taps and clicks, she says, “Oh, I see that room was cancelled. Let me see what else I can find.” More tapping and clicking ensues. “Just a minute, I’ll talk to my manager.”
She Escort Dubai disappears into the back room. My heart sinks — I’m homeless in the big city. She comes back and says, “We only have one room left. Would you mind the bridal suite? There’s no extra charge. You’re lucky — a couple cancelled just this morning.”
“Uh no, that’s fine,” I reply. As a kid, I had always dreamt of spending my wedding night in the bridal suite. Obviously, this isn’t that special occasion, but it should be amazing.
She clicks and taps and makes a key card for me. She directs me to the car park and I find my way up, wheeling my overnight bag behind me. I step in and it’s magnificent. I am overwhelmed — just little old me in this huge suite. I unpack my few things into the massive drawers and closet and giggle how silly that seems.
I suddenly feel grubby, so I strip and head into the bathroom. I was going to have a quick shower, but I see a huge bathtub — big enough for two — with a bottle of bubble bath inviting me. “What the heck,” I muse. After using the toilet, discarding the soaked tissues that I had wisely stuffed inside my panties, I draw the bath and ease myself in.
I hear my phone ring from the other room, but I’m not going to pull myself out now. Voice mail will get it. It’s most likely John, but I have a fantasy that it’s Jill, calling me to seduce me over the phone.
Jill has larger boobs — B or maybe C cups. I’ve always wanted bigger boobs. My A cups have their advantages, like not needing a bra at home and for going out casually, but I’ve seen women with bigger boobs get noticed quickly and I yearn for that sometimes. Ah well, I’m not going to have implants.
I relax and let the warm bath soothe my body. For a while, I don’t have erotic thoughts. I just let myself soak in the luxury. Caressing my legs, arms and even boobs with the bubbles is a sensual delight rather than sensuous. “I could live in this suite,” I think.
Jill’s image pops back in front of me. I remember her looking at me coming out of the stall, casually rubbing her boobs. At the time, my embarrassment dominated, but upon reflection, I remember wishing for a fraction of a second that I could rub her boobs for her.
I imagine her naked boobs barely covered by my fingers. I sense her desire and caress them, pleasing her. I want to imagine more, but my inexperience with women doesn’t allow the fantasy to go further.
I soak for a few more minutes before standing and drying myself with a ridiculously plush towel. Stepping out of the tub to the full-length mirror, I examine my body. I try to view myself as another woman would, and I am not displeased with what I see. I’m not bad for a fifty-year-old; I’ve kept myself fit and firm.
I’m suddenly hungry so I step into the bedroom and dress for dinner. I feel a bit naughty, so I choose a satiny top and decide to not wear a bra. Slacks and nice black shoes complete the outfit.
I pop my room key card into my handbag and sling it across my shoulder on the way out the door. In the lift, two women around thirty years old are talking. They are very pretty and I smile at them. They return smiles as they keep talking to each other. We get out at the lobby, and I look around for the hotel restaurant. Then I notice that the two women walk up to another woman that I recognise after a second — it’s Mary!
They are all talking together, and without realising it I’m slowly drifting toward them in a trance. Mary notices me, turns, looks me up and down and smiles. I keep approaching until I’m with the group. She says, “Hello, I’m Mary.”
I mumble, “Yes, I know.”
“Oh, do you know me?”
“Uh, oh, sorry,” I blurt, suddenly snapping out of my mental mist. “Only from your photo. I’m in your program this weekend and there was a photo of you on the website.”
“So there was. And you are?”
Still dazed that the object of my lust for the last week is actually talking with me, I finally say, “Oh, I’m Pam.”
“Lovely to meet you, Pam,” Mary says. She points to the other two women and introduces them, “This is Sonya and this is Liz.”
“Hi, Sonya. Hi, Liz,” I manage to say.
“Hi, Pam,” they reply.
“We’re going out to dinner,” Mary says.
“Oh, I was just going to eat in the hotel,” I reply.
Mary stares into my eyes and whispers, “Nonsense, you are coming with me.” I feel an incredibly irresistible power shoot into me.
“Uh, oh, sure,” I say. The three of them giggle as if they are in on an inside joke. Sonya and Liz walk on ahead, leaving Mary with me.
“It’s only one block away, so we’ll walk,” Mary states. “So you need help with discipline?”
I am baffled by her question before realising she’s referring to her program. “Oh, I wouldn’t say it’s a real problem, although I always have that one kid, you know.”
“Oh yes, I know.”
“I’m a last-minute substitute. Another teacher from my school was supposed to come but he had to back out.”
Mary smiles and says, “Lucky me.”
My mind is reeling. Here I am, going to dinner with the woman that I have been having so many fantasies about during the last week. For all I know, she’s totally straight and would be shocked if she knew how I am feeling.
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