Rebellion

Big Dicks

Jan Marshall was the Home Economics teacher at the school I taught at. She was about forty, quite good looking, had a daughter of around nineteen and was a widow. When I tell you her husband probably died as a desperate means of self defence, you will understand my opinion of her wasn’t too high.

In this modern era of political correctness we are supposed to let boys do Home Economics if they wanted to. None of the lads at our school had taken up the option, Jan Marshall subtly letting it be known that any boy pansy enough (or horny enough – all those girls doing Home EC) to attend her class was guaranteed a fail before they even entered the room.

In Jan Marshall’s little world there were two types of men, known rapists and rapists not yet proven. I was her superior at the school, so I came under the not yet proven category. And where she was concerned, it never would be proved. Any man brave enough to tackle her would probably join her husband in the afterlife, voluntarily.

I’d met her daughter, Denise, at a couple of school functions, and there was a contrast. A bright spring morning against her mother’s chill of winter. She was popular and I’d seen her out and about in the evenings with a variety of male companions. I’d heard no rumours about her sexual proclivities, but if she was a virgin I’d be surprised.

There again, after living for nearly twenty years with Jan, it was possible that she was too intimidated by men to let one actually take her to bed.

I knew there was a lot of friction between mother and daughter, as Jan made no bones about complaining about Denise’s behaviour. She’d complain about her attitude, her clothes, her friends, her makeup, her anything she could think of. I suspected that Denise probably complained to her friends about her mother, and probably with a lot more reason.

One week Jan was absent from school, sick. On the Friday the school received a call from her asking if someone could drop of her Home Economics class’s grade papers so she could mark them over the weekend.

As Jan lived fairly close to my place this request was passed on to me, with instructions to bring Jan up to date about various school edicts that affected her and her classes.

I strongly suggested that, knowing Jan’s antipathy to the male of the species, a female teacher might be a better choice. All I got was a rude comment about are you a man or a mouse, and my subsequent squeaking was ignored.

So after school I fronted up at Jan’s place. I explained that there were several things from school I had to go over with her, so I was reluctantly invited in and I reluctantly entered.

I dumped the papers where told and then went over the items I’d been requested to bring up. I gave reasoned explanations to several queries, agreed that some rules were invented by men purely to add to the burden of hard working teachers and did my best to hurry the meeting along so that I could be out of there before the chill froze me.

Then in walked Denise, a towel wrapped around her hair, using it to rub her hair dry. Nothing else. Bare butt naked, and she was a stunner. Apparently she’d just had a shower and it was obvious that she’d also taken the time to shave.

My jaw probably made a dull thud as it fell open, probably low enough to bounce off the carpet. Jan didn’t notice this little trick of mine because she was bouncing off the ceiling.

I’d have thought that if you’ve got a visitor and your daughter is bare assed kartal escort in the shower common sense would be to give her a warning so she didn’t innocently wander into view displaying her charms.

Failing the giving of a warning, when your daughter wanders in giving your visitor a beauty show, a gentle word saying that you had company would be enough to send the daughter scurrying for cover.

Not in this case. Denise blushed as the fact of my presence and her nudity hit her and she was starting to turn and bolt when Jan went into action.

How dare Denise shame the family that way? Had she no sense of decency? Where had she, Jan, gone wrong to have such a terrible daughter. Her father would be rolling in his grave. Etc, etc, etc…

Denise got her back up right away. She’d been in a fight or flight state and was in the middle of opting for flight when mummy started on her. Straight away she switched to fight.

It wasn’t her fault. How was she supposed to know her mother would have a man in the house? It had never happened before in living memory. Anyway, what did it matter if someone saw her naked? I’d probably seen naked women before. (True, but not many as nice as Denise.) Anyway, she wasn’t showing anything that she hadn’t shown to other men. (So, not a virgin it seemed.)

They went to and fro like that for a while, while I kind of kept a low profile and enjoyed the scenery.

Jan finally points out that as she’s naked in front of a man I’m probably going to rape her, it will serve her right and she needn’t appeal to her mother for help, because she wouldn’t.

At that I promptly pointed out that rape wasn’t my style and, even if it had been, I was unlikely to rape her daughter in front of her.

Denise, at the same time, points out that I appear to be a friend of Jan’s, and in her books that probably meant I was gay and incapable of raping anyone, unless it was a little boy. (Snarky little bitch, I thought at that comment.)

Jan ignored Denise’s comment but reacted to mine.

“It won’t be in front of me,” she shouted. “I’m not staying here to watch.”

Then she went charging out of the house and a few moments later I heard her driving away,

Denise was looking satisfied at that, then suddenly looked a little nervous, flicking an apprehensive look towards me.

I quite deliberately looked her up and down, paying close attention to boobs and pussy, shook my head sadly and smirked.

Denise promptly became annoyed. How dare I dismiss her with a look like that? I could see her square her shoulders, standing straighter so that her breasts stood out, daring me to say something.

So I did. Standing up, I announced, “It looks as though your mother has gone for a while but it doesn’t matter. Our meeting was effectively over. I’ll let myself out while you go and get some clothes on. You look a little cold.”

Ever noticed how women don’t want you coming on to them but then feel insulted when you don’t?

“That’s it?” asked Denise. “You’re just leaving? You’re not going to try anything?”

“Don’t be silly. Of course not.”

My eyes flicked over her again, and I smiled slightly, shaking my head. Denise was looking offended and a bit doubtful. I mean, here she was naked and I was just brushing her off and apparently laughing at her.

“Is there something wrong with me?” she demanded.

“No, no. You look fine,” I assured kaynarca escort her, still smiling as I moved towards the door.

I could see irritation flicker across her face. It was all very well not to be indecently assaulted, but I should at least have shown some appreciation for her body.

“After all,” I murmured, “I’m sure you’re not really trying to seduce me, now are you?”

Now she was indignant and insulted again. I was putting the blame on her? Accusing her of coming onto me?

“What?” she nearly shrieked. “Of course not. Why would you say such a thing?”

Without Denise noticing I’d been moving not only towards the door, but also a damn sight closer to her. Now she was in arms reach, so I reached.

“Oh, possibly because you didn’t take any measures to hide these,” I said, running my hand lightly across her breasts, making sure I flicked her nipples. “Neither did you try to wrap that towel you’re holding around your waist so that you weren’t giving me an eyeful of this,” I added, reaching down and cupping her pussy.

“Nor,” I continued, “did you go and get dressed when I suggested you should, preferring to spend time arguing with me while showing off your nudity.”

I slid my hand around behind her and cupped her bottom, laughing at the astonishment on her face.

“I’ve changed my mind,” I said. “Your mother has left you here at my tender mercies and I find I don’t have any. Let’s go to your bedroom and finish our discussion there.”

Turning her around I pointed her in the direction of the hall that I assumed led to the bedrooms, and gave her an encouraging pat on the bottom to get her moving.

Denise walked down the hallway with me in close attendance, my hand resting comfortably on her bottom, while she kept tossing confused little glances over her shoulder, apparently trying to decide what the hell was happening.

Reaching her bedroom, she entered, and made a half-hearted attempt to close the door on me. I just breezed in anyway.

“Look, you’ve had your fun,” Denise said, “I think you should go now while I get dressed.”

“You can’t get dressed until after your shower,” I pointed out.

“I just had one,” Denise half shrieked at me.

“OK,” I said. “Calm down. It’s just that you’ll need another one after I’ve finished molesting you, so it would be silly to get dressed just yet.”

“Very funny,” she snapped. “Look. I’m laughing. It’s past time you went. I want to go out shortly.”

“Denise,” I said, “you had your chance to chase me away and you did everything you could to keep me here. I told you to get dressed and you drew back your shoulders and thrust your breasts towards me quite deliberately.”

She blushed at that one, knowing I spoke the truth. She had deliberately squared her shoulders to make her breasts stand out when she thought I wasn’t appreciating her figure properly.

I started undoing my belt, preparing to drop my trousers.

“While I get undressed, why don’t you decide how you’re going to receive me,” I told her. “Then you can get into position ready for me.”

“What do you mean by that?” Denise almost screamed at me, watching closely as I took my trousers off.

“Just that,” I murmured. “Do you want to lie down on the bed with your legs apart in the classic pose? Do you want to bend over the bed so I can ravish you from behind? Maybe hop onto the bed on all fours so we can do it doggy kozyatağı escort fashion? Or do you want to make it a straight wrestle, with me holding you down and slowly taking you while you struggle and pretend you don’t want it?”

Denise was almost hopping up and down in fury at my so casual attitude. The way I was reading her, she wanted to be forced to submit, but I wasn’t buying the scenario the way she wanted.

She was honest though, I’ll give her that.

“Fine,” she snapped and hopped up on the bed. She wriggled around on the bed for a few moments, getting comfortable, and when she was finished she was kneeling, bottom high in the air while her head was resting on her crossed arms, looking over at me. Truthfully, not at me as such but at a part of me that seemed to interest her.

I took up a position kneeling behind her. I stroked her pussy, letting my fingers dip inside her to assess her readiness, and was quite satisfied that I’d read her right. She was hot and wet, and her pussy pushed back against me as I probed her.

Carefully easing her lips apart, I then pressed firmly against her, sliding in easily and deeply. Running my hands along her sides I found and captured her breasts, noting with interest the way she tensed when my hand brushed across her lower ribs.

With her breasts under my control, I thrust hard, pushing my cock the rest of the way into her, hearing her give a little squeak as I slid home.

“Now I know you were really wanting to be able to protest and demand that I stop, so I’m going to help you out.”

My hand went from where they were comfortably holding her breasts back down to her lower ribs. I then dug them in sharply.

Denise exploded, squealing and giggling, wriggling and protesting, fervent pleas for me to stop pouring from her. With cruel delight I continued tickling, enjoying the feel of her writhing under my fingers and around my cock.

When I finally stopped she was almost in tears, gasping and still giving little giggles.

“You want me to stop?” I asked, at the same time giving a firm thrust of my cock deeper into her.

“No,” came the gasped response, as her hips swayed back to meet me. “Do it!”

My hands crept back to her ribs to be met by a frantic “No!”

“You just said do it,” I pointed out.

“Not that,” came the yelped reply. “This.” She eased forward and then slammed herself back hard, showing precisely what she want me to do.

Being the helpful kind, I obliged, driving repeatedly into her, hitting her so hard the whole bed was shaking. Hands clasped her breasts, rubbing and squeezing them while I took her with enthusiasm and a lot of energy.

Denise’s appreciation was plain, as was her participation, my every effort being met with similar enthusiasm, squeaks and squeals of appreciation coming from her.

We banged together in fine style, each appreciating what the other had to offer, reciprocating in kind. Neither of us were in a hurry to finish our union, but neither were we trying to delay it. Soon I could hear Denise panting and making little pleas for me to go harder, harder, and I set to with a will, driving home hard and fast.

Feeling my own climax about to start, I delivered a stinging slap to Denise’s bottom, resulting in a shriek of surprise, followed by just a loud shriek as her climax hit her just in time to receive mine.

Lying back afterwards I was idly playing with her breasts and running my fingers over her mons, gently teasing her.

“Now you’re probably ready for your shower,” I murmured. “It’ll make up for the one you didn’t have earlier.”

It was quite amusing to see just how red her face could burn, finding I’d spotted her little ploy. I have no idea why she’d picked me to stage her little rebellion against mummy, but I wasn’t going to complain.

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