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Will is out running one day and encounters an old girlfriend. Her mother was his high school English. When he sees her again it leads to something they never taught in English class!



I was out for a hot Saturday afternoon run in July when I saw her. She was walking a dog in the field adjacent to where the jogging trail passed by the playground. She wore white shorts and a sleeveless red top. She was still a fox and her body was still fine, just like it was back when we used to be a couple.

Her name was Helen and she had been one of the prettier girls in my high school. She had long brown hair, deep brown eyes and a body that turned heads. She was a very nice and considerate person, but she intimidated a lot of guys in those days, including me, partially because of her exquisite looks, but mostly because her mother was an English teacher at our school. In the spring of our senior year Helen and I acted in a school play together and we hit it off. I found her very easy to talk to with a great sense of humor. She was hot, but she didn’t act like it. We dated the last several months of our senior year and through our first year of college. She went to a different school to get her nursing degree so we ended up going our separate ways. We were by this time in our mid-twenties, and it had been over five years since I’d seen her.

“Helen? Helen, is that you?” I asked as I coasted to a stop a few feet away from her. The dog leaped toward me but she yanked back on the leash.

“Down, Babs,” Helen said. “Will? Holy Smoke, I can’t believe it!”

We shared a brief, sweaty hug and the dog was jumping up almost to my shoulders.

“This is Babs,” Helen said. “She’s a Jack Russell Terrorist. And not too well trained, I’m afraid.”

“Is she your dog?” I asked.

“No, she belongs to my mother. Mom lives right over there,” she said, pointing to the entrance to The Ridge, an upscale subdivision of nice homes on fairly large lots.

Her mother was Connie, my old English teacher. She was also a knockout, at least back in high school she had been. I guess she was still in her thirties then, with a slim athletic body, tight ass, firm titties and a beautiful smile. Most of the boys in school thought she was hot, and they all fantasized about her, and that helped make Helen seem hands-off to many of them.

“How’s Mrs. Connie doing?” I asked.

“Okay, I guess. But it’s Miss Connie now. She and my father split up a couple years ago, but she’s doing fine, just hates men nowadays. He was messing around with some little harlot at his work and got caught. So she nailed his ass in the divorce and bought a nice house with a pool and a hot tub!”

“Is she still teaching?”

“Oh yeah,” she said, laughing. “Still in the same old classroom, same old syllabus, and still setting adolescent boys’ hearts a-flutter!”

“Well, you look good, Helen,” I said. “Where are you living these days?”

“All over the place,” she said. “I’m a travelling nurse. I go to work at places where there are severe nurse shortages, get paid well and get to see the world. I just got back from Alaska a couple of weeks ago; I was there for six months. I’m staying with Mom for a few weeks now, and then I’m off to South America!”

“South America! Wow.”

“Yep, Venezuela. I’ve been brushing up on my Spanish. How about you? Where are you living? What are you up to?”

“Been selling medical equipment. It’s been going pretty well. I bought a town house overlooking the park, about a mile from here.”

“Oh, nice, we’re practically neighbors! We should get together while I’m here. And I’m sure Mom would love to see you.”

I wasn’t so sure about that. When I’d taken her classes, she seemed to like me a lot as a student and enjoyed my comments and humor. But after I started dating Helen she’d seemed to act colder toward me.

“Sounds like a great idea,” I said, “I’d love to. It will be fun to catch up and see Miss Connie again!”

She told me the phone number and I repeated it a few times so I wouldn’t forget. She said to call the next day and I promised I would.
When I called the next day Connie answered the phone.

“Well, if it isn’t the sparkling wit of Franklin High!” she laughed. “Helen said you might be calling. How are you doing, Will?”

I gave her the brief update and then she told me that Helen was out but they wanted to invite me over for a cookout by the pool.

“How about Thursday evening?” she asked. “Would that work for you?”

“That would be fine,” I said.

“Okay, then we’re all set. Come over around six. We’ll grill out by the pool, have some drinks, catch up on everything and then we’ll have a pop quiz on Antigone!”

“Ugh,” I groaned, laughing.

“Okay, maybe not Antigone. How about Stevie Ray Vaughan?” she laughed.

She had a nice laugh. It was cool that she remembered that I was into the Blues. And any coolness I had detected from her in the past was nonexistent.
On Thursday at six p.m. I was knocking on their door. I held a twelve pack of beer in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, which made hugging awkward when Helen and Connie saw me in. So I put down the merchandise, gave them each a hug and thanked them for having me over.

They both looked ravishing. Helen’s hair was in a ponytail and she wore short denim cutoffs and a tight, white t-shirt, her tanned arms and legs glowing in contrast and the lace of her bra contoured through the thin cotton of her shirt. Connie was foxier than ever, and even though she had to be in her mid-forties she didn’t look a day older than she had when I’d taken her classes eight and nine years before. Her dirty blond hair was shorter and slightly frizzed. She wore a flowery summer dress hemmed above the knees, and her long legs and arms were beautifully toned and tanned.

I followed them through the house to the pool area out back. I put the beer on ice and grabbed one for myself. They each already had a glass of wine.

“You two look great!” I said, as we took seats on the patio. “And Miss Connie, you don’t look a day older than when I was in high school.”

“Oh, please,” she blushed. “And, it’s just Connie, now. We’re not in school anymore!”

“Okay, Connie. But, I’m serious, you look great. You must be working out, you look in fabulous shape.”

“Pilates, aerobics, I swim a little and I’ve gotten into running. Helen said she bumped into you when you were running Saturday, so obviously you are still at it.”

I had run cross country in high school and college, and kept it up after graduation, running races, marathons, and even a couple ultra-marathons.

“Yes, I’m still at it. My positive addiction, I guess. It helps me justify my beer drinking!” I laughed, raising my bottle.

“You ran a few marathons if I remember correctly,” Connie said.

“I have,” I answered. “I ran New York last year. None in the plans right now, though.”

“I think that would just be an incredible accomplishment,” she said. “I’ve run a few 10Ks, but I don’t think I could ever run 26 miles!”

“Oh, if you can do a 10K,” I said, “You could do a marathon. It’s all just a matter of committing to the training. There aren’t any short cuts!”

“Maybe one of these days I’ll try it.”

“You can do it. Like I said, it’s really a matter of planning and training and not rushing it.”

The night progressed with easy conversation between the three of us, burgers and chicken on the grill, potato salad and corn on the cob. It was all delicious and I washed it down with a number of beers. At about a quarter till ten Connie said she was going to turn in and said her goodnights. She disappeared behind the French doors that led into her master bedroom. Babs, who had been floating on a raft in the pool for most of the evening, was right behind her.

Then it was Helen and me alone. We’d all been reminiscing throughout the night and we continued along those lines, talking about the times we’d shared. We caught each other up on our personal lives and various gossip. I told her I hadn’t been serious with anyone for over a year; she was vague and just said that relationships wouldn’t fit too well into her current life as a travel nurse.

“You want to take a swim?” Helen asked me.

“I didn’t bring my trunks,” I said.

“You still wear boxers?” she asked.

I told her I did.

“You wearing them now?”

I told her I was.

“That’ll work!” she said. “Go on, get in. I’ll be back in a jiffy!” and she bounced into the house.

I took off my shirt and pants and shoes and dove in. In about sixty seconds Helen reappeared through the door to the living room in a black bikini, strutted to the edge of the pool and walked down the steps into the shallow end. Her suit didn’t leave much to my imagination. She had a killer body and I admired every inch of it. On this hot summer night the water was cool against my skin, but I still felt a warm tingle down below. After a few minutes of playful splashing around we sat on the pool steps and continued our catching up. We sat close but we weren’t touching.

“Remember the first time we went swimming together?” she said.

“How could I ever forget?” I said. “You were so bad!”

I had dived into the pool at school and the rush of water had yanked my swim trunks right off of me. Helen grabbed them and had gotten out of the pool before I even came up for air. She pranced around with my trunks laughing and I couldn’t get out of the pool for half an hour.

“You made up for it later, though. I forgave you.”

“I remember,” she said, smiling. That night she gave me a blowjob in the woods near the fourth fairway at the public golf course.

“Remember when you wanted to be a stripper?” I said.

She laughed. “Yeah, thank God that didn’t work out!”

“I think it worked out just fine,” I said.

This was right after we started dating. We were drinking at a party and were kidding around and talking about what we wanted to do for a living when we got older, and somehow she said she thought it would be fun to be a stripper. I told her that sounded great, I’d like to watch her practice. So we went back to my house and down to the basement…my parents were out at some social event…and I put on some music. Soon Helen was swaying to the music and soon her blouse came off, and then her skirt as she grinded to the groove. Then she tossed her bra aside and was wearing nothing but her panties, and my dick was hard as nails. Once she slid out of her panties I couldn’t control myself any longer and I slid in front of her on my knees and started eating her hairy bush. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing but by that time we were both so horny it didn’t matter, and soon I was fucking her brains out, our first time together.

“Maybe for you!” she said. “But I was in mortal fear until I had my next period!”

“So was I!” I replied. We laughed about it. But it wasn’t funny back then.

Soon we got out of the pool. Helen went to change and I got out of my wet boxers and into my dry shorts. As we were saying goodnight I asked her if she wanted to get together and go out on Saturday night.

“Will,” she said. “You need to know, I’m really not interested in getting into a relationship. And I’m only going to be here a couple more weeks…”

“I know that,” I said. “Relax. But while you’re here, why not? Tonight was fun, don’t you think?”

She smiled and said yes, it was.

We agreed that I’d pick her up at seven and we’d figure out something to do.
We went out Saturday and just winged it. We went to a local joint and had pizza and beer and talked, then hung out and listened to a guitar and bass duo play a set out on the patio. When I took her home it was a tad awkward when I dropped her off.

“I don’t know what to do!” I said, as we said goodnight.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Should I try to kiss you or not?”

She burst out laughing. “What do you want to do?”

“Seems like a kiss would be appropriate,” I said.

“Okay, go ahead, Romeo!” she said, puckered her lips, closed her eyes and posed.

I laughed and pecked her on the corner of her mouth.
A couple days later I was out running in the same area where I had encountered Helen when she was walking Babs. While I was in my typical mid-run dissociative daydream I noticed another runner approaching me from the opposite direction. It was an attractive woman, slim and athletic with a smooth, even stride. She was dressed in yellow running shorts that clung to her upper legs and crotch and a white singlet that was sweat-plastered to her firm tits and waist. It was Connie.

She didn’t recognize me as we closed in on one another so I ran off a few yards to the right and circled back around behind her. I caught up and started running beside her on her right.

“So Connie, you’ve started your marathon training already, I see!” I said.

She was startled and looked over at me and laughed.

“Oh, Will!” she said, “I didn’t see you come up. But uh, no, just out for a jog.”

We chatted as we ran together for a couple miles. She asked me if Helen and I had had a good time when we went out the other night.

“Oh, sure,” I said. “We spent the night catching up and reminiscing and laughing about it all.”

“So you won’t be getting back together I take it,” she replied.

“Oh no, nothing like that. It would be hard to try to have a relationship on two different continents!”

“Yes, I believe it would. And Helen hasn’t had a steady guy for several years and I think she prefers it that way.”

As we ran, the topic of discussion became running. I asked if she was serious about running a marathon.

“I’m not sure. Do you really think I could?”

“Sure,” I averred. “Why not? Many people in not nearly the shape you’re in have done it. As I said before, it’s all about the training. If you plan it right, and do it right, you’ll be prepared and be fine. And when you actually do it, you’ll not only be in the best shape of your life, but you will have done something that 99% of the people on Earth couldn’t do!”

“What’s the training like? How long is it?” she asked.

“Three or four months. The key is you have to get a long run in once a week.”

“How long?”

“You want to get it up to at least 20 miles.”

“Ugh,” she groaned. “Twenty miles? In the summer?”

“You don’t start with that, you build up to it. You can do 10Ks, that’s a good base. Start with a long one of eight or nine miles and build from there. In a couple of months you’ll be doing 20 plus.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Sounds complicated.”

“It’s a lot simpler than Antigone!” I said, and she burst out laughing. “But you can do it if you really want to,” I went on. “You just have to commit to it and stick to it. It’s not easy, but it’s worth it for the feeling you’ll have afterwards. If you want to do it, I’ll help you. I’ll train with you.”

“You would do that?”

“Yeah, I’d be happy to. It will be fun.”

By that time we had looped around the whole massive neighborhood to where I would cut off and head back toward my place. I told her to think about it and we said our goodbyes and jogged off in opposite directions.
The time was nearing when Helen would be flying off to Venezuela. I called her and asked if she’d like to get together once more before she took off. She said she couldn’t because she was swamped with preparations and had agreed to meet with an old girlfriend Friday night before she flew out on Saturday. She suggested that maybe I could come along with her and her mother to the airport Saturday morning. I agreed and she said to be at her mother’s house at around 7:00 am to ride along.
I stayed in Friday evening listening to some music and catching up on some reading. The phone rang and I didn’t bother to pick it up. It happened several times but no message was left. I figured it was after-dinner telemarketers looking for a sucker. Then at around 8:30 my doorbell rang; imagine my surprise when I flipped on the porch light and opened the door and saw Helen standing there!

“Helen!” I exclaimed.

“May I come in?” she asked.

“Sure,” I replied, pulling the door open wide. “Is everything all right?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just need someone to talk to, I guess.”

She came into my living room and sat on the sofa. I asked her if she’s like something to drink and she asked if I had any wine. I’m not a wine drinker but I told her I had a cheap bottle of something for use in a pinch. She said that would be fine so I went to the kitchen and returned with a glass of merlot for her and a beer for myself.

“So, I thought you were going out with a friend tonight,” I said.

“I was…I did. It didn’t go very well so I left. I called you but you didn’t answer. When I drove by her I saw your car so I rang your bell. I’m sorry to barge in…” She took a healthy swig of her wine.

“It’s okay.”

“I’m glad I didn’t interrupt anything!”

We sipped our drinks and sat through a thorny silence.

“Can I tell you something, Will?”

“Sure. We could always say whatever we wanted to each other, you know that.”

“I know. But there’s something I never told you that I should have.”


“I don’t want you to be mad, but remember when I was in nursing school and our relationship kind of petered out all of the sudden?” I nodded. “Well, I kind of was involved with somebody else.”

“Ah,” I said. As if it all made sense now, which of course it didn’t.

“It’s not what you think, Will. I wasn’t running around on you or anything. It just sort of happened naturally. It was with one of my classmates. Her name is Geri. That’s who I met with tonight.”

“There was another dicey silence as I digested this news update.

“Anyway, we became lovers. I’d never had sex with another girl before. Geri had, but I hadn’t, it was all new to me, and I couldn’t get enough. We lived together, worked together, played together, studied together, slept together. It made everything else in life better; I thought, so this is who I am! Then after almost three years she dumped me for a man! I caught her fucking him in our apartment.”

“Oh, I’m sorry…”

“That’s when I went into travel nursing. To get far away from it…from her. But it only helped to a certain extent. I just couldn’t quite get over the hurt…the betrayal…the insult!”

I reached over and put my hand on hers. She gripped my hand and squeezed tight.

“I’m sorry to dump all this on you, Will.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“Anyway, that’s who I met with tonight: Geri. I ran into her last week at the gym where Mom works out. It was awkward…really weird…but we chatted for a minute or two and she suggested we meet for a drink. So I thought okay, bury the hatchet and let bygones be bygones and all that, and I’m leaving tomorrow anyway but maybe I could finally reach some kind of closure and move on.”

“So, what happened?” I asked.

She took another gulp of wine and her glass was almost empty. I took her glass to the kitchen and returned with it refilled.

“So,” she continued, and took a deep breath. “She’s now married to the guy. Then she starts talking about how her husband really wants to watch her doing another chick, and since I was the last chick she was with, maybe I’d like to join them in the sack. And she said that she wouldn’t mind seeing Hubby fucking another woman either, so what did I think, am I up for it, it would be fun. I mean, can you believe that?”

“Oh, wow!” I said. “What did you say to that?”

She let out with a nervous laugh. “Well, I’m not proud of what I did, but I can’t say I’m sorry about it either. I mean shit, she made me feel so dirty, so cheap; like some monkey in the zoo that they can watch and get themselves off!” She shivered and took another anxious sip of wine. “I called her a fucking cunt, threw my drink in her face and got up and walked out!”

“You did?”

“I did!”

“All right, you go girl! Touché!”

“I’m over that bitch!”

Another pregnant pause ensued as we held hands and sipped drinks. Then Helen put her drink on the table and turned her body to face me more directly.

“Thank you for listening to me rant, Will,” she said with liquid eyes.

“You’re welcome, you know that,” I said, “Anytime.” I squeezed her hand again and she squeezed right back.

“Want a blow job?” she said.

I almost fell off the couch when I heard that.

“What?” I asked incredulously.

Helen started laughing. “Bet you weren’t expecting that!”

I told her I sure as hell wasn’t.

“I’m sorry, Will, but I need to get laid! When I left Geri tonight I was half-crazy! She made me so damn mad…that she could be so damn smug after what she’d done to me and what I’d done to be with her! I need to be with a man again, need to feel a man’s dick again. I’ve wasted enough time pouting and running away. So, it’s either go peddle my ass on the street, or come to you—you’re about the only man I know I can trust.”

“But, Helen, you’re leaving in the morning.”

“I know, I know,” she said, “But I really need to get laid tonight.” She ran her hand up along my thigh and found my penis. “It can be my going-away present.”

“What has gotten into you?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she said, then she stroked my hardening cock, and added, “But I want to get this into me!”

I think I was in a minor shock, and I wasn’t sure if it was right, perhaps she was too vulnerable, but I also knew I couldn’t turn this down.

I wasn’t wearing a belt so she unsnapped my jeans and unzipped me with minimal effort.

“Ooh, no underwear…” she cooed.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting company,” I croaked.

“It’s serendipity!” she said. “You were the last man I had, and now you’ll be the next. Then she went down on me.

She took my cock into her mouth and my balls into her hand. She wasn’t the most experienced cocksucker from what I could remember, but the familiar feel of her mouth and lips and tongue and fingers swelled me to the max. I held her hair between my fingers as she gave me head like she was bobbing for apples.

After several minutes she removed her mouth from my swollen member and raised her head to mine and kissed me. For the first time in five years I felt her silky tongue in my mouth. She savagely sucked my tongue and clutched my cock in her hand. She was an Alpha girl, unlike the Helen I remembered.

“Show me your bedroom!” she whispered.

All of my pent-up emotions had me pretty horny too. I couldn’t remember ever being so totally, completely, erotically seduced. In my bedroom she whipped off her tops and bottoms and pulled my pants off as I unbuttoned my shirt. Then she lay on the bed and pulled me on top of her. She had my cock in her hand and yanked it to the entrance of her shaved pussy. She had red rose petals tattooed around her navel and a silver stud within.

“God, I’m wet!” she wheezed. “God, I need to come!”

“No foreplay?” I asked playfully, tickling her.

“Five years without is my foreplay!” she said.

I slid into her with zero resistance and felt her once-familiar wet warmth surrounding my engorged cock.

“Fuck me, Will! Fuck me hard! I need to have an orgasm and it’s going to be a whopper!”

I pounded her like there was no tomorrow. I hadn’t been with a woman for a while so I was ready to erupt in about a minute and a half. She was milking me with her pussy walls as I drove my cock into her. Soon I could feel my rising tide of cum searching for release, seeking the path that led out. I grunted like a wounded croc when my semen rose through my steely shaft and blasted off inside Helen, rope after oily rope. I gradually slowed my rhythm as I emptied, easing into a gentler groove.

“Keep fucking!” Helen hissed.

With the taut, blood-hard skin of my cock now less stressed, it slid easily in and out of Helen’s slimy bliss. Her hands clutched my ass and her groin smacked into me trying to coax a climax.

“Keep fucking me, Will!”

I started banging her harder, then harder, then harder still, and my cock returned to the approximate firmness of tempered steel. We were reelin’ and rockin’ and the bedposts a-knockin’! We kept this up for a while, each expelling guttural groans with each hard thrust. Then I felt myself nearing my second coming. My tongue was fucking Helen’s mouth and my finger was in her ass, and I could feel the sweat on her face so I knew she was getting close. I could feel another healthy dose of my cum preparing for liftoff, and soon it rose up and out of me, not as big as the first, but four or five solid strings leapt deep into Helen’s juicy twat. Within seconds she let out a high-pitched scream and started shaking and her warm rapids flowed downstream and out of her, soaking my spent dick and the bed beneath us. I rolled to her side and collapsed beside her with her tongue in my mouth and her vagina surrounding my cock and we stayed that way for a few long minutes as I gradually went limp inside her.

We must have nodded off for a while. When I came to it was around 11:30 and Helen was getting dressed. As she made her finishing touches and pulled on her shoes she noticed I was watching her and came over to the bed.

“Thanks, Sailor!” she said, “You have no idea how much I needed that!” She bent down and gave me a quick kiss on the lip. “Goodnight; see you in the morning.” Then she was out the door.

I lay in my bed, ruminating about my unexpected night. What the hell had happened? I asked myself, ‘Did I just fuck a lesbian?’
I was right on time the next morning. Connie greeted me with a big smile when she opened her door. She asked me into the kitchen for coffee while we waited; she said Helen had gotten in kind of late and was moving kind of slow this morning.

We chatted briefly and then I noticed Helen’s bags were packed and stacked in the dining room. I offered to take them out to the garage and pack the car. I was just finishing up when they both emerged from the house.

“Morning, Will,” Helen said coolly, barely making eye contact. She got into the front passenger seat, Connie was behind the wheel and I climbed into the back.

Not much was said in the car, but Helen kept stifling one yawn after another.

“You tired, Helen?” I asked.

“Yes I am. I didn’t sleep too well,” she said.

“Maybe you can catch some Z’s on the plane,” I added. She said she hoped so. It was good to see that her category 5 orgasm the night before hadn’t taken too much out of her.

At the airport we checked Helen’s bags and then went as far as we could before saying our goodbyes. Helen and Connie hugged and kissed and exchanged I-love-yous. Then Helen turned to me.

“Goodbye, Will. It’s been nice seeing you again. Thanks for coming.” I wasn’t sure if she meant coming to the airport, or coming the night before. She kissed me on the cheek and turned, waved, and entered the line to security.

We walked back out of the terminal and found the shuttle to take us back to Connie’s car. On the ride home she told me that she’d thought it over and would like to take me up on my offer to coach her through marathon training if I was still up for it. I told her, Absolutely, I was looking forward to it. And I’d not only be helping her, it would motivate me to train and to run another marathon too.

When we got back to her house, Connie took a calendar off the wall and we sat down at the kitchen table and I wrote out a training schedule. I spread her usual weekly mileage throughout the weekdays, and added a long run for each weekend, increasing the distance gradually week-to-week, to get her prepared for a big race in November. The race was in the city about an hour away.

At this point it was the end of July, so I mapped out a 15 week plan peaking with runs of 20, 20 and 21 miles in weeks 11, 12 and 13.

“What do I do the last two weeks?” Connie asked.

“Eat, drink and rest!” I said. “You don’t want to overtrain. If you’re not ready by then, it’s too late.”

We would start the next morning with an eight miler.
Connie was a pretty good runner and had no trouble with the early training. We would run side by side, and because her natural pace was slower than mine, occasionally I would move out faster for a half mile or so and then double back and fall back in beside her. The second week we did nine miles, the third week almost eleven. Our ritual soon became we would run together, all the while talking about just about anything that popped into our minds, then after the run a jump in her pool, then often she would make us lunch.

As two people running many miles together, side by side, we covered many topics of conversation. I found Connie very easy to talk to. Our minds seemed to work the same way. I could say almost anything to her, no matter how esoteric or how ‘out there’ it would seem, and she would follow and be right there with me. And the same went for her, wherever her conversation went, whatever tangents she went off on, I was there.

I mentioned once that it puzzled me that when I had taken her classes in high school she was always warm and friendly toward me, but when I was dating Helen she seemed cold and aloof. She admitted I was right and that it was her problem, not mine. She told me that was about the time her marital problems were starting to happen, and also she didn’t like the idea of any guy screwing her daughter.

For some reason I didn’t expect my old English teacher to talk like that, but when she did, I got a kick out of it. As we became more and more comfortable with each other, I looked more and more forward to our workouts.

She talked about Helen too, of course. She mentioned Helen’s same-sex relationships (plural! I only knew about the one with Geri) and how that took some getting used to at first. She said she didn’t think Helen was gay, just open to things, and when a bunch of nurses went to school together, things could happen. She told me also that she wondered if something might happen between Helen and me while she was home. I figured if Helen wanted her to know about our last night together she could tell Connie herself.

After about three or four weeks of training together our comfort level had reached a point of total ease. Connie would sometimes touch me when she spoke, and I became less hesitant to touch her as well. When she completed the twelve miler, she was exuberant and gave me a big hug and kissed my lips. After that our normal greetings and goodbyes included a hug and a kiss. When we ate together her eyes would linger on mine and her coy smile would give my stomach butterflies. My loins got butterflies too, despite our twenty year age difference.

That week I had used her bathroom off the pool after taking a swim and noticed her toilet had a leak and would keep running off and on. I told Connie I would fix it for her, I just needed to go to the hardware store and get the replacement parts. She was very appreciative and started to dig into her purse and I told her not to worry about it, it would not be expensive and was an easy fix. She said maybe I would get a free dinner out of the deal, then.

That afternoon I went to the hardware store to buy the kit and took it back to her house. By this time knocking on the door had become an unnecessary formality, so I walked in and found her in the kitchen.

“I’m cooking your dinner, Will, so I hope you don’t have plans! Lasagna! Got to carbo load!” she called as I entered the room.

I swear she was trying to drive me crazy. She was wearing short frayed cut-offs and an untucked white t-shirt with no bra! The cotton fabric hugged her nipples like wet tissue and drew my eyes like magnets. I know she caught me looking and I went off to fix the toilet with half a hard-on.

In the bathroom I got down to work. It was a small room and I had to contort myself in different shapes and forms but I removed the guts of the toilet tank. But Babs wanted to help and was getting in the way so I had to lock her out so I could get the new parts installed. She whimpered for a couple minutes but then must have smelled lasagna because she sauntered off. In another fifteen minutes I was done, and when I turned the water back on and flushed a couple of times, with minor adjustments it was working like new.

I went back to the kitchen and the lasagna was in the oven and Connie had mixed a pitcher of vodka martinis. We went to sit by the pool with our drinks. Babs hopped onto her raft.

We sipped and chatted for the next hour or so. We talked about running, about books, about her teaching and the problems with kids these days. We ate delicious lasagna and green salad, then had a nightcap by the pool. After a while I felt I should leave, and not overstay my welcome, even though I didn’t want to. As we sat in the soft light, I looked at Connie’s profile and the subtle rising and falling of her breasts with each breath, her sublime bare nipples snug within her shirt, and the beauty of her tanned, crossed legs, and I swear the thought of her being twenty years older might as well have been twenty days, because I believe I was falling in love.

Connie saw me to the door to say goodnight.

“Thank you for fixing the commode, Will,” she said. “I had no idea you were such a handyman!”

“Oh, I’m okay in the bathroom!” I said. “But I’m better in some of the other rooms around the house!”

In the dim light I could see a twinkle in her eye and a sly curl to her lip.

“Oh, you are, are you?” she said.

“I think so. If you have any other chores that need attention, just let me know.”

We stared at each other for a bit. I knew she was feeling something too, I just didn’t know what. I leaned to her and kissed her full on her mouth. I sensed a brief resistance, but I put my arm behind her back and pulled her to me. My lips parted, and although she hesitated, soon hers did the same and our tongues frolicked and I tasted her for the first time. She was kissing me too, and enjoying it, but her arms stayed by her side. When we finally parted I kept arms around her waist.

“Uh, oh,” Connie said. “What was that?”

“Something I’ve wanted to do for a while,” I said.

“Will, we shouldn’t…you were a student of mine…”

“That was a long time ago.”

“But you’re the same age as my daughter!”

“So what? You deserve a little young stuff!” I said, and performed a little shuffle dance in front of her.

She laughed and shook her head.

I kissed her again and her lips didn’t delay as much this time, our mouths meshed and our tongues twirled in a sexy ballet, a long one, and I felt her arms around me.

When we broke the kiss our eyes were locked as we said goodnight.

‘No woman could kiss a man like that and not feel something!’ I thought to myself.
I fell asleep thinking about her. When I woke in the morning my cock was harder than I could ever remember, it ached, and I jerked off thinking about her. But I began to feel pangs of guilt. Had I taken our new found ease and comfort level for granted and gone over the line? I thought I’d read her signals correctly and responded appropriately but her hesitancy was bothersome.

I called her on the phone that afternoon but missed her. When she called me back that evening I began with an apology.

“Connie, about last night,” I said. “I’m sorry if I went a little too far. It was a wonderful night and I don’t want to screw things up. Please accept my apology.”

“Don’t apologize, Will,” she said, “Because you didn’t do anything wrong. I love the way you look at me, and I was sending cues too, I was asking for it. But when we finally, actually kissed like we did…I think a lot of things hit me all at once and it kind of scared me.”

“What things?”

“Well, primarily our ages. It’s not that I’m not tempted, but twenty years is a big difference.”

“Hey, your ex- has a young squeeze, you should have one too!” I said, to lighten things up.

She laughed, but added, “Okay, but that’s not all. You’re a former student…”

“That was years ago! Think of me as your trainer!”

“…And then there’s Helen. You’re her friend, you’re her age. You used to date her for God’s sake!”

“Connie, Helen is a mature adult, I am sure she…”

“I know, Will, I know. Like I said, you didn’t do anything wrong. I wanted it to happen. It’s just a lot to think about.”

She went on to tell me that she would be leaving the next morning for back-to-school teacher orientation and would be gone until Friday night.

“I hope you’ll get your training runs in!” I said.

“I will, Coach, I promise,” she said, “And I’ll be ready for our 13-miler on Saturday!”

“Good. And maybe this week you’ll have the time to think about what other rooms in your house might need my handyman services!” I said.

She chuckled and said, “Oh, I know of one already. That’s part of my problem.”
“Good morning! I hope we can beat the rain!” Connie said when she greeted me Saturday morning with a quick kiss.

“It’ll make us run faster!” I quipped.

It was cloudy and warm with a 70% chance of rain. The air was thick with humidity and we were both already breaking sweats before we even finished stretching.

As we ran we talked about many different things as we usually did, but we didn’t touch the subject of ‘us’, and I felt a tenseness in the vibe that I figured would stay with us until we did.

After a few miles we were drenched in sweat and our running clothes were matted to our bodies. When we reached the spot where I had stashed our water bottles we stopped for a quick drink. My shorts were drenched and clung tightly to the bulge between my legs. Connie must have noticed, the same way I observed her orange shorts hugging her sweaty cameltoe.

At around eleven miles I asked her how she was feeling and she said she felt pretty good. I told her I was going to stretch out a little for the last couple miles, and did she mind? She said, ‘No, let’s do it!’ So I picked up the pace and we took off together.

Our last two miles were run at a quick pace, faster than what Connie was accustomed to, but she stayed right with me. When we slowed to a walk after our thirteen miles I was ecstatic and told her how proud I was. Without thinking I wrapped my arm around her sweat-soaked waist and kissed her cheek, and we walked arm in arm for a few steps. When we walked onto her patio from the side of the house, she went through the gate before me and I shook my head in admiration of how the liquid fabric of her shirt was plastered to her slim waist and her shorts that looked like an orange paint job on the crack of her ass.

Connie went into the house, and as had become my custom after our runs, I entered the pool area, peeled off my shirt, shoes and socks and jumped into the pool wearing only my running shorts. I swam and paddled around a little, enjoying the feel of the cool water on my hot skin, easing my spent satisfaction after a hard run. I took off my shorts, wrung them out in my hands, and placed them on the patio at the lip of the pool, where I could easily retrieve them to put them back on. After a couple more laps I swam over to the pool steps and sat on the bottom step in the chest-high water and relaxed.

In a few minutes Connie came out through the French doors from her bedroom with Babs right behind. She walked over and opened the gate to let Babs out for a quick pee. She looked like a model in a sleek one-piece black, backless swimsuit that promoted all of her curves. Without looking at me (but knowing I was watching her) she strutted over and picked up my running shorts and took them over to the wall and hung them on the towel rack. Then she dove into the deep end.

She came up for air and stood in water up to her shoulders and looked at me for the first time. With a mischievous smile on her face she slid her hands over her shoulders, freeing them from the black spaghetti straps of her suit. With her hands submerged and a twist and turn of her body she removed her bathing suit and threw it over by the towel rack. We were both now naked in her pool.

“If you get to skinny-dip,” she said, “So do I.”

She swam over and we embraced and without hesitation her mouth covered mine with her tongue leading the way. Her arms surrounded me and I maneuvered her onto the step beside me. Facing each other, kissing deeply and with my hands exploring her, I wrapped my legs around her and pulled her as close as I could. I felt her tits against my chest and the contour of her sweet ass in my hands. Her hand grasped my dick, still somewhat flaccid in the cool water, but growing fast.

“I thought about this all week!” she murmured.

“I think about it all the time!” I replied.

There was a loud thunderclap from a distant lightning bolt and rain began falling. Our wet hands roamed our wet bodies and our tongues did a rain dance.

“Move up here,” I said softly, and lifted her up to sit on the top step, the surface of the water just below her waist.

With volition of its own my mouth explored Connie’s neck and shoulders, and she sighed loudly when I reached her delicious breasts. Her nipples, already perked up by the cool pool, grew harder between my teeth and she moaned when I sucked them into my mouth.

It started to rain harder and in unison with another crack of thunder I felt Connie’s firm grip strengthen around my hardening cock.

I lowered myself before her, kissing her breasts, her stomach, her navel. I put my hands on her buttocks and lifted, and with her gorgeous, neatly-groomed pussy right at the water line, I buried my face into her.

“Oh, my God!” she moaned.

My mouth explored her eager, open gash and I sucked on her lips and split them with my tongue. Her salty tang, sloshed with chlorine, made for a tasty sweet and sour cocktail. I squeezed her ass cheeks and sucked her swollen clit into my mouth.

“Oh, Jesus…”

The rain started coming down in torrents, hard pellets pounding us on the shallow steps and poking deep dimples into the surface of the pool. Her hands clutched my head and she pushed her pussy into my face and her clit delved deeper into my mouth. She groaned as my lips massaged her.

There was another roar of thunder and a major gust of wind blew the trees sideways in the backyard. A potted palm blew over, scaring the shit out of Babs, who then headed for cover under a lounge chair. The rain was coming down as hard as I could remember, hammering into my back like rubber bullets, but with Connie’s hard meat in my mouth, her strong fingers guiding my head into her grinding groin, and my cock long and stiff, I hardly noticed.

I looked up at Connie and she had a serious, concentrated look on her face, like she was deep into a trance. Her hair was matted down against her scalp and her nipples were large and hard. She rocked back and forth, to and fro, over and over, fucking my face. Then her body quaked, and she shook and shivered from head to toe and she let out a shriek.

“Oh my God, Will…”

It was hard to tell from my position, with my mouth immersed in a slushy embrace of cunt and pool water, but she must have dumped a healthy dose of her jizz into the pool.

Next she pulled my hair toward her and my head followed. She sucked my tongue deep into her mouth and wrapped her fingers around my erect staff. The hard rain continued to poke us and soak us and powerful gusts rattled the trees and shrubs. Babs barked with each smack of thunder.

“God, I’ve never been eaten like that!” she said with a hiss. “I’ve never come so hard!”

“That’s my Connie-lingus!” I said.

“Well, anytime you want to practice…”

“I’d love to practice…”

“I want you inside,” Connie said.

“What, inside the house?” I asked.

“No! Inside me!” she hissed, and pulled my inflated pole into her ravenous hole.

I entered her and found the calm in the midst of the storm. A mystical, magical fit of hard cock, hot twat and cool water. I pumped her, aiming for the back of her, but holding her ass carefully in my hands to elevate her above the cement surface of the steps, not wanting to braise her beautiful back. She surrounded my neck with her arms, buried her tongue in my mouth, and swung herself into me, absorbing my length with every thrust.

We were fucking up a storm. She moaned when I slipped my middle finger into her ass for a better handle, and I felt the hot, firm pressure of her asshole. I wiggled my finger deeper inside her and she squinched her ass in reply.

Her left hand moved down to my ass and I felt her finger slide in. We were then both totally entered into each other, cock, tongues, fingers, and we banged with abandon, loving each other as the tempest raged above us.

Beneath a piercing crack of thunder I came, and with multiple expulsions released my seed into Connie. We stayed inside of us, fingers, tongues and cock, kissing, and molded together as the storm gradually subsided.

“Let’s go into the house,” Connie said after a few minutes. “I have another job for my handyman.”

“You do?” I asked.

“Yes. In my bedroom.”
“I want to suck you,” Connie said.

The storm had finally abated into a gentler, steady rain, and we had toweled off and were in her bed, our bodies enwrapped. Babs was right beside us, looking the other way.

“My English teacher gives blow jobs?” I said. “Dreams come true!”

“Hard to believe, I know! It’s been a while, so I hope it’s worth it,” she said, and went down.

It felt like a dream. She immediately took most of me into her mouth and I massaged her scalp with my fingers, pulling her head close and easing as much cock into her mouth as I could. I arched my back and gently swayed my groin in an effort to feel as much of her mouth as I could. She milked my balls with one hand and squeezed my ass cheek with the other, coaxing, her mouth, hands and my hard rock cock working in unison like an oiled machine.

For someone who claimed to be rusty, she could have fooled me. She used her mouth masterfully, her embouchure firmly cushioning my swollen instrument, blowing me like a virtuosic windplayer, giving head with the same passion she had shown when teaching the classics. She said it had been a while, and she was definitely enjoying having cock in her mouth.

Soon her body was atop mine and as she rammed her tongue into my mouth she fed my slimy dick into her wet cunt. Up and down on top of me she went, in and out, fucking me, and the room filled with the sounds of our groans, the creaking bed and the wet slapping of our genitalia. My older lover fucked like a goddess.

“God, I needed this!” Connie said when she took her mouth off mine, still fucking. “The whole thirteen miles this morning, I was thinking about this!”

She let out a high-pitched ‘Oh God!’, and I felt her warm, wet rush flowing out of her, soaking my balls and thighs. I rolled on top of her as she shrieked and I pounded my meat into her, time after time until I felt my cum rise up and catapult into her, spasm after spasm. When our throes abated we lay together, kissing, and feeling our bodies meld.

We must have nodded off for a time after a half-marathon run and our muscular sex, and when my eyes opened she was smiling at me. I kissed her.

“Hold me,” she said. “I want to feel your arms around me.”

I scooted close and she turned her back and I was behind her, arms wrapped around and spooning her. Soon my hands were wandering over her tight, curvy flesh and my mouth was traversing her ears and neck and shoulders. She cooed with my kisses and my cock grew hard again against the crack of her ass. I felt her arm wrap back around her body and her hand found my cock. Her weight shifted slightly and her legs spread just enough so that she could guide me into her warm, open snatch. My right hand found her clit, and her fingers joined mine, directing, teaching me how she liked it. Her hand on top of mine, we massaged her enlarged love button together, her yearning and my learning, as I fucked her from behind.

We slow-fucked for a few minutes as I kissed her neck and whispered dirty nothings in her ear. Then we both came once more, less cacophonous than our previous orgasms, but by then we both realized that our bodies were spent, from running, from fucking, and from not having eaten anything.

We showered and then Connie drove me home so I could put on some clothes and then we went out to a pub for a late lunch of sandwiches and a few beers. Now that we were lovers there was no tension and conversation flowed easy and was full of laughs and sexual innuendo and the things we were going to do to each other in bed. After our second pitcher she leaned over and said to me softly that she wanted to go home because she wanted to go down on me again and she wanted me to come in her mouth.

I spent the rest of the weekend with her and most of it was spent making love in various ways. Connie was insatiable.
Our love life took on a routine: Monday through Friday was work, her with her students, teaching and grading papers, and me with my job. During the week we’d talk on the phone, usually about that week’s running and how horny we were and how we were going to tear each other up that next weekend. The weekends would include our long Saturday morning run and then two days of sucking cock, eating pussy, and finding new ways to fuck. And new places! I fucked her in the pool, in the hot tub, in the shower, on the floor, on the kitchen counter. Connie was very uninhibited sexually, a pleasant surprise and not what I would have expected from my old English teacher. She had a colorful vocabulary too, although many of her words were not ones she used in class.

The first couple weekends we were so hungry for each other we had to fuck before we went on the run, but then of course our legs were shot and we didn’t feel like running, although we forced ourselves. We knew we would fuck some more when we were done, so that helped motivate us.

Each weekend we’d take our long run, 15 then 17 then 19, then 20 miles, make love all afternoon and then go out to dinner. At first Connie was a little self-conscious going out because she thought people would think she’s my mother or something. I said ‘Hogwash’, you look at least ten years younger and your body is killer, we’ll just kiss or hold a hand every now and then and people will get the message. And then maybe I won’t have to worry about other younger guys hitting on you.
The weekend of the marathon finally arrived. We drove to the race on Friday, the night before the race and had reserved a room in a hotel not too far from the starting line. We had pasta and beer for dinner…the end of our three day carbo-load…and tried to get to bed early but sleep would not come. I performed Connie-lingus and fucked her hard to help us get to sleep.

In the morning we were up early and off to the races. We left our stuff in the room because we had booked two nights. Hopefully Saturday night would be a celebration!

The weather was almost ideal for a marathon. Partly cloudy, temperature in the mid-50’s and only a slight breeze. Right before the starting gun we kissed, and were off.

We ran side by side for the first few miles, then I said I needed to pick up my pace. She said no problem, let’s go. I did, and she stayed with me. I warned her to take it easy and told her about my first marathon, when I had felt great at five miles, pushed my pace and paid the price at about 22 miles, when I hit the wall and the last four miles felt like forty, pure hell.

We ran together. Slower than I wanted, perhaps quicker than Connie preferred, but we finished together, hand in hand.

Three hours and forty-two minutes, sixteen seconds. We were ecstatic. For Connie to run such a good time on her first marathon was incredible to me. We went out for beer and pizza and then hurried back to our room and jumped into bed. We sixty-nined ourselves into ferocious orgasms and both swallowed a load of cum. We were tired of course, and had no trouble drifting off to sleep.

I was awakened at about four o’clock by Connie stroking my erection. My eyes opened to see her face close and she was staring at me. We were lying on our sides, face to face, and we kissed. Connie maneuvered her body closer and slipped my stiff rod into her wet and ready love glove.

“I need you again!” she said softly.

With my cock safely imbedded in her warm pussy, I rammed my finger up her ass for the best possible grip and plunged my tongue into her mouth. On our sides we rocked back and forth, reaching again for the ultimate climax. She rolled on her back and pulled me on top. We both broke into sweats, and amid cries of rapture we fucked ourselves closer and closer to our euphoric conclusion.

Afterward, with my cock still inside her, Connie squeezed it with the muscles of her twat.

“I’m pregnant,” she said softly.

I damn near fell out of the bed. My eyes must have looked like saucers. She smiled at me.

“I swallowed hard and asked, “You’re what?”

“Pregnant. I’ve known for a week or so but I wanted to wait until after the race to tell you.”

There was a confused silence for a short time. I had no idea what to say.

“Am I the father?” I asked.

Dumb question. She smacked me upside my head with a spare pillow, but she still had a smile on her face.

“I’ll pretend you didn’t ask that question!” she said. She wrapped her hand around my cock. “And this penis is the only one I’ve been close to in a long time!” she added.


“It must have happened that first weekend,” she said. “The week I went to the orientation I decided I was going to have sex with you. I got back on birth control right away. But I must have messed up somehow.”

“How do you feel about it?” I asked.

“Good,” she said. “I was shocked at first, but I’m okay with it. We’re going to have a baby! How about you, Will?”

“Wow, scary,” I said. “I don’t know what to say. I’m in shock, I guess.”

“Any questions?” she asked, with my cock still in her hand.

“Uh, I’m sure there will be…”

“We can still have sex. The doctor said it was okay.”

“Well, that’s good. You’re such a great fuck I’d have a hard time giving that up!”

She laughed and said, “We don’t have to. You just need to get a penis reduction.”

“A what?!”

“A penis reduction. It’s a simple outpatient procedure; you just need to take off a couple of inches. You know, for safety. I set you an appointment for next Thursday.”

I must have had a petrified look on my face. Connie burst out laughing and it was my turn to smack her with the pillow.

“I’m going to punish you for that!” I said. “That was cruel!” We were both laughing.

“Oh really? What kind of punishment?”

“I’m going to butt-fuck you.”

“Oh, promises, promises.”

I spent the next few minutes caressing and kissing her stomach. Soon my mouth was sucking her delicious clitoris.

I told her I loved her. She said she loved me. We made love again.
I practically moved in with her. We slept together every night. I coddled her. I massaged her. I kissed her still-flat belly. We made love often, but I took it easy and went slow. I was afraid. I didn’t want to break anything.

My mind was a blur. Every day was a blur. What was happening? My mind raced with questions and doubts. Was I up for this? What kind of father would I be? Should we get married? Am I ready to get married? If we did, how could I be a stepfather to a girl I used to fuck? Can I handle this?

I was in love and scared shitless.
Thanksgiving was upon us. Connie insisted on cooking a big meal, but I told her no, she’s pregnant, she has to take it easy. She said no way, she’s only a couple of months, and she wants to do it, and besides, Helen is coming home for the holiday. She said that Helen could only get a few days off for one holiday, Thanksgiving or Christmas. But since so many of the very religious locals in South America wanted off at Christmas, Helen would have to work, and she would be coming home for Thanksgiving.

Connie had mentioned a couple of times about how we should break the news of our relationship to Helen. Now with her pregnancy, it had blossomed into an even more stressful event.

Helen was flying in on Wednesday night. Connie thought it best that she pick up Helen at the airport by herself, take her home, catch up, and she could tell her about our training, the race, and our relationship. And I would come over for Thanksgiving dinner and we would tell her the rest together.
Helen’s flight was hours late, she finally landed after midnight. Helen was burned out and she and Connie didn’t have much time to catch up. They went to bed and slept late; when they awoke, they attacked the job of feast preparation together.

I arrived at about three p.m. When Connie opened the door she gave me a barely noticeable headshake, telling me she hadn’t told Helen anything. Okay, here we go, I thought.

In the kitchen Helen said hello, and embraced me warmly. She kissed me on the lips.

“Glad you’re here,” she said.

We had a big dinner, and it was a savory feast. Beautifully cooked, maximally ingested, and we cleaned up as a team.
We had drinks afterward. We were seated by the pool.

“Helen, I have to tell you something,” Connie said.

“All right, what?” Helen said coldly. She didn’t look at me.

“It’s about Will…”

“You’re fucking him, aren’t you…”

“No! Well yes. We trained for weeks for the marathon…we fell in love…”

“Fell in love, oh give me a break!” Helen croaked.

“We did…”

“Oh, please…”

“It just happened!” I interjected.

There was a pregnant pause of a few moments.

“It just happened?”

“Yes,” I said.

There was another long silence.

“I’m pregnant,” Connie said softly.

Helen’s pupils dilated and her eyelids peeled back. “You’re pregnant? Oh my God, who’s the father?”

“Well, Will of course!” Connie said.

“Oh no, you are pregnant with Will’s baby?”


Helen burst into uncontrollable tears and sobbed for a solid minute. We were helpless. Finally the weeping subsided enough for Connie to speak to her.

“Honey, what’s the matter?” she said.

“You’re pregnant with Will’s baby,” Helen said.


Another violent storm of tears flowed from Helen’s eyes.

“So am I!” Helen cried, along with her shrieks of pain.

Connie turned her head and stared at me. Her eyes were confused cold daggers.

“Oh shit!” I thought to myself. The simple life I’d been living had just officially become very complicated.
The end

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