As I pulled into the driveway and got into the house, I spoke to my wife Carol about the whole business deal and how I would be in another part of the country for the next few weeks and possibly every quarter for a few days. As I got ready for bed that night I noticed she was taking a little longer than usual. Walking into the bedroom, the lights were dimmed and soft music playing. Knowing this was her signal she wanted to get lucky, I turned the corner into the bedroom and saw my lovely wife starting to apply a little edible massage oil on her hand and seductively start rubbing her glistening pussy lips as she lay back and played with her large breasts telling me to watch for a little bit. Slowly undressing I could not hide my erection for long as I sat on the chair watching her pleasure herself as my hand slowly stroked my cock. Come here and give me your hard cock – it has to last me for a few weeks. Climbing onto her I kissed my way from her thigh to her sweet shaved pussy. George’s second tale The morning following that first little episode, when Miss Amelia caressed my thigh, she was due to come for her lesson alone. My emotions were hopelessly tangled, an admixture of dread that she should carry this behaviour forward, and a longing for her to do something more. Having spent so much time with her, and even more in thinking about her, she was coming to seem less like some creature from faerie, or a princess from an Arthurian romance, and more like a person of flesh and bone and volatile emotions. Like any teacher had I started out thinking in a narrowly focussed way about her strengths and weaknesses, and how to build on the strengths that became more manifest every morning. But soon I was thinking about her glossy nutbrown hair, her shy smile, her shining eyes, her joy at every compliment, her pride in small successes and her dejection at setbacks. I could feel that she liked me, and I was certain that I liked her, but the huge difference in rank.
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