Frank called later that day to inform his wife that he would be holding an extra football practice after school. He would not have time to go out for dinner, so he wanted Martha to bring him down a meal. For his wife, it was an hour's ride each way on the bus. But that never occurred to Frank. He knew what he wanted and he did not ask for it. He demanded it.
Martha seldom went to the school. She felt shy of confronting other teachers or her husband's students. She feared what they might think of her. She took time in front of the mirror, trying to arrange her long pale-blonde hair into a twist. She normally wore it in a drab ponytail, but she wanted to convey the right image at the school. She knew Frank would nag her if she didn't. She put on a little eye makeup and some lipstick. She put in her contact lenses, which she seldom wore because they were a little more trouble than glasses and who was looking anyway.
Her image in the mirror when she was ready to leave surprised Martha. She had let Frank's neglect convince her that she was no longer an attractive woman. The mirror told her something else.
It told her she had high round firm breasts and a tight pert ass. It told her she had a headful of pretty, naturally blonde hair. It told her that her face, though on the thin side, had a gaunt beauty that was reminiscent of a painting by an old Dutch master.
She smiled at herself before heading out the door. Her husband had treated her like his own private whore before he left for work that morning. Though his lovemaking had felt intensely good, Martha had gradually drifted into the old depression about being nothing but a neglected workhorse. Now, she was feeling good again. She felt good because she could see that she was still a beautiful and desirable woman.
And she was going to be out of the house for the afternoon. It would be fun to get out, to have something to do, even if it was only an errand for her husband.
There was a group of boys gathered around her husband when Martha arrived at the school gym. She saw Frank look right at her, but he continued to give his instructions for the next phase of the boys' calisthenics. He was not the kind of guy to interrupt what he was doing just because his wife had arrived.
Martha sat dejectedly in the bleachers watching the boys work out or talk to their coach by turns. On the ride over, she had been testing herself with strange men, to see how many turned to look at her. She had gotten good results, and she had been feeling good when she arrived. Somehow she had been expecting her husband's attitude to have changed because her own had. She was beginning to feel as faded and neglected as ever.
At last Frank waved her over. "Hey, Martha! Come on over here!"
She approached dutifully with the bag lunch. She was not expecting the amount of attention she was getting from the coach's boys. Several of them were watching her. She could not mistake the admiration in their gaze. She blushed. "Hello, boys," she said shyly, looking directly at a young blond boy who looked just as embarrassed as she felt.
"Hello, Frank dear. I hope I got here in time."
Her confidence had just received a transfusion. She waited for Frank to notice her appearance. He did not. "I hope you didn't bring sandwiches, for Chrissakes. I had sandwiches for lunch."
"I brought you a meat pie. I thought you could heat it up in the microwave in the kitchen. There're some cookies and grapes and a coleslaw salad too."
"Oh." He looked mollified, but he said nothing more about the food. "Well, I guess you'll have to excuse me, Martha. The boys and me have got a lot of work to do if we're going to have us a good team this season."
Feeling herself dismissed, Martha began to edge toward the door of the gym. She saw the eyes of the blond boy following her. She smiled at him. He smiled back, then turned away. Martha was still trying to understand the strange pounding in her heart when a young guy addressed her.
"Can I see you to your car, Mrs. Roy?"
She turned to meet the intent stare of a handsome boy with, jet-black hair. She had watched him working out on the gym floor. He seemed an unusually strong boy. She guessed he might be one of her husband's star players. She was confused and flattered by his interest. "I… I don't drive. I'll be taking the bus home."
"Okay, then I'll see you to the bus. The coach told me to make sure you get out of here okay."
Martha felt a sudden surge of resentment. Trust Frank to make sure she got out of his hair as quickly and efficiently as possible! "I found my way in…" She paused, looking for his name.
"I'm Steve, ma'am. Steve Manners."
"Well, thank you for your offer of assistance, Steve. But I'll be just fine. You don't want to go outside all lathered up like that. You might catch a chill."
He laughed. "Heck! Us football players are tough! Okay, Mrs. Roy, if you're sure you're all right."
"Good-bye, Steve." She watched his muscular young body in shorts and t-shirt head back to the gym floor. This time it was not her heart but her pussy that started to throb noticeably. She shook her head as though to shake off the feeling and left the gym.
When she got home, Martha made herself a stiff drink. She had gotten into the habit of having a few drinks when she was alone in the evenings. The alcohol cheered her up. It helped her forget how bored she was. It helped her feel good, all over.
She propped herself up in bed with her bottle of scotch and her tray of ice beside her. She had moved the smaller TV into the bedroom where she could watch it and be comfortable.
This time she was paying little attention to the story line on the television. She was preoccupied with memories of her visit to the school. Her encounter with her husband had been the same as usual. Nothing unexpected about that.
What was unexpected was the blonde's reaction to the handsome guys under Frank's supervision. Two boys in particular.
The blond boy with the shy smile.
And the black-haired boy with the ego and the confidence. Not to mention the lean hard-muscled young body.
After she had gotten over her disappointment at not having children, Martha had ceased to pay much attention to other people's kids. It hurt too much to think that they might have been her own children in different circumstances.
At the age of thirty, she felt the generation gap when she was around teenagers. She had no idea how to communicate with them. She felt they were politely scornful of her.
But those two handsome boys had changed all her old notions about teenagers. They had been friendly. They had smiled at her. They had looked at her as if she were an interesting, attractive person – not just an older person.
More than any of those things, they had made her feel like a woman. A beautiful woman.
When she thought of the way the blond boy looked at per, her pussy throbbed. Automatically, she reached down to stroke it. She often stroked herself when she was alone and feeling kind of high. Most of the time she never thought about anyone in particular when she did it. She just thought about a handsome romantic lover who would hold her and coax her in and out of wild intense lovemaking.
Tonight, she thought about the boys. Her cunt grew so hot that she pulled up her skirt and inserted her fingers into her panties. She found her clitoris already hard and throbbing with lust. She put a finger on either side of the sensitized nubbin and began to vibrate it.
"Ooooohhh…" She moaned softly and rocked her head from side to side on the pillows that propped her up. She ground her ass down into the mattress. It felt deliciously sinful to be sitting on her bed with her skirt pulled up and her hand in her panties. With the alcohol racing through her bloodstream she felt above shame. She felt lusty and aroused and eager for adventure. She felt eager for the hard cocks of those boys she had looked at that afternoon.
"God, I mustn't think that," she murmured in competition with the toothpaste ad that was blaring from the TV set. Yet her mouth curled in a little smile and she did think that. She thought about what it would feel like to caress the hard muscles underneath Steve's t-shirt. Her husband had had hard muscles too when she married him. His body had excited her intensely. Now it was his cock that excited her. He no longer had that wiry well-honed physique of active youth.
And even her husband had never been so young nor so tender-looking since Martha had known him. He had been close to thirty when they met. She had missed his vulnerable youth. She had never made love to a body so pure as that of the dark-haired boy or of the blond. She wondered if she had missed something. Her throbbing clitoris told her she had.
As she grew more aroused, she rubbed her hand more abandonedly over her hot wet cunt. She took another long drink of scotch, then she stabbed a finger deep up inside her pussy. Her cunt-muscles locked hold of it greedily. She sent a second finger up to join the first. That was more filling. That stretched her more. "Uuuuuhhh… God, I love to feel good!" She began to work her obscene phallus in and out of her craving twat.
She worked her panties down over her rounded ass-cheeks until they were far enough down that she could pull one leg free. She spread her thighs wide apart, relishing her abandon as she recklessly skewered her fingers in and out of her aroused pussy.
The smile of the blond-haired boy leapt into her mind. She remembered how his shyness had touched her. He obviously had felt embarrassed about the feelings that looking at her provoked. Her own excitement had embarrassed Martha then. But, looking back on it, she felt only the naked desire. She could imagine that such an untouched boy would be the perfect lover. He would do all the things she wished Frank would do, but knew he would never do.
She could imagine the awe the boy would feel if she let him touch her breast or her pussy. The thought of his trembling admiration made her cunt spew forth moisture. She worked her fingers more harshly. She shoved them as deep as she could get them into her cunt. She reached inside her blouse, inside her bra and pinched her nipple. She pinched it as hard as Frank did in the throes of passion, but this time she felt no contradictory signal of shame. She did not have to worry now that Frank was using her body disrespectfully and belittling her because she responded so readily. When she taught of the boy, she did not feel the guilt and confusion she felt when she had sex with her husband.
She thought of the boy, of both boys, as purity, as romance, as innocence and youth. She could not imagine that they would ever look at a woman as a mere object for their self-indulgent lusts.
She stared at the TV set, but she did not see the picture projected there. She saw the blond boy. She saw his big blue eyes wide with wonder as he watched her stroke her pussy to wet distraction. With the alcohol pulsing through her veins, distorting her thoughts, Martha reveled in the depraved thought of playing with herself in front of the inexperienced boy.
She was sure he was inexperienced because of the way he had looked shyly away when she smiled at him. He was uneasy with her because she was a woman. He was a babe in the woods on the verge of manhood. She could teach him so much. She could teach him to be the kind of lover she had always wanted to have. And, at the same time, she could grasp hold of the tenderness and romance that were so woefully lacking in her life.
"Oh God, it would be so beautiful, honey! If I could have you here with me! If I could have both of you here with me!" The higher she got the more fantastic Martha's dreams became. Her hand smacked against her clitoris each time she stoked her fingers deep into her cunt. The jolts of pleasure shot darts of arousal through every nerve-ending. She was trembling like a leaf in a high breeze. She knew she was getting close to climax. In her abandoned state, she let herself think about whatever came to mind that might help her over the last hurdle to wallowing forgetful ecstasy.
She could imagine herself with a naked boy stretched out on either side of her. Each of them would have a hard-on pressing against her sensitive flesh. She would be so wet and hot, so willing to serve their every lustful need. "Oh God, I feel so good! I feel sooooo good-d-d!" With the alcohol for ally, Martha was riding on top of the world. She, was shameless. She was beautiful in the full flush of her hunger. She could feel her clitoris starting to spasm, and she pulled her knees up and drove her fingers deep, deep into her cunt. She wailed like a wounded animal when the orgasm struck her. She shut her eyes tight and let herself flow with pleasure.
"Oh God, it feels good to cummmmmm…" In the oblivion of climax, Martha did not need anyone, not even the memory of the boys. She felt wave after wave of tingling joy shake her shapely body as she pulled herself up tense. Gradually, with the tension freed from her, she let go. She stretched out and relaxed. Her fingers were still inside her pussy as she started to drift into sleep.
As consciousness slowly left her, Martha found herself regretting that once the crisis was past, the guilt started flowing in. She knew that, when she woke up she would be shocked with herself for fantasizing such things about two innocent young boys. She was still tipsy enough now to let herself enjoy just a few more moments of mindless pleasure before her vigilant conscience took over.
Her pussy could still throb guilt-free around her wet embedded fingers.