Grace Ch 11 1

Presidents' Day was unexpectedly warm, so I met a group of friends and went on a hike along the coastal trail. There were several couples along, and I got the usual amount of razzing for being single. "When are you going to meet someone?" and "What's your problem?" came up in equal measure, and I just smiled. Dating a parent when you're a teacher is a gray area, so I kept my mouth shut about Lindsey. Having sex with a student is obviously not something I brought up either! Still, it was a nice day overall, even if my thoughts did stray back to my day with Grace a lot.

When I got home, I made a light meal and settled down to do some prep. When I opened up my email, I had to laugh. Among the administrivia, there was a message from Lindsey with the subject line "Thank you for coming!" I clicked on it with anticipation, knowing that she would have a lot to say about my day with Grace.

Dear Steve, (it read)

Grace was very pleased with the progress you two made. I saw evidence of some very good work being done in several areas. Thank you again for your care, attention, and flexibility. We both appreciate you making yourself available!

Lindsey

That was her best email by far--laced with double-entendres, and totally innocuous to an outsider. I did my best to match her tone in my response, adding interesting line breaks just to mess with her a little.

Dear Lindsey, (I wrote after the subject line "My pleasure")

I was glad to be there. I was very satisfied

with her hard work--

we did cover a lot of different areas.

Grace is coming

along very well, and I look forward to

filling you in

on her progress when we see each other!

I'll be there tomorrow

to work on the essay some more.

Steve

I grinned to myself and got back to work. About 20 minutes later, my phone buzzed on the coffee table. It was a text from Lindsey, of course.

"You're hysterical.

You better fill me

In, you bastard!"

I love a woman who gets the jokes!

On Tuesday, I returned to work in an excellent frame of mind. The day seemed to fly by, and before I knew it, I was in line at Starbucks getting a cold brew for myself and another disgusting flat white for Grace as a thank-you present. I pulled into the driveway, parked as usual, and knocked loudly. I heard steps in the entry hallway and put on my best grin, but when the door opened, my eyebrows went up in surprise. I was face-to-face with Grace's dad for the first time since Parents' Night.

"Hello there!" he boomed. "It's Mr. Robertson, honey!" he called over his shoulder. "And he brought coffee for everyone!"

I could feel his question hovering in the air, so I nodded a respectful greeting and gave him a sensible response.

"Good to see you again," I said with a smile. "I told Grace I might be late because I needed a shot of caffeine, and she asked if I could pick her up a drink as well."

"I hope it's your treat!" he joked, his eyes glittering. "We're paying you a lot of money!"

I was getting tired of the booming voice already, and the money shot was completely unnecessary, but I was in no position to argue. I kept the smile on my face while I reminded myself that I was sleeping with his wife AND his daughter and he was footing the bill.

"It's been a great arrangement so far," I answered easily. "Grace has made a lot of progress this semester and she should be in great shape to graduate."

"Well, that's good! Second time's the charm, huh?" he said with a chuckle at his own joke.

"Absolutely. Is Grace ready to get started?" I asked politely.

"She's around somewhere!" he snorted. "Grace, honey, are you here?"

"Right here, Dad. Hi, Mr. Robertson! Thank you so much for stopping at Starbucks--I was so wiped out after the weekend that I almost fell asleep in class today."

I gave her a small smile, inwardly admiring her innuendo.

"Ready to work on that essay?" I asked earnestly.

"I'm ready!" she chirped. "Bye, Dad!" she said as she turned toward the kitchen.

"Work hard, sweetie!" he said to her departing back. "You, too, Mr. R!" he added.

"That's the plan!" I agreed. What a tool.

With his dismissal hanging in the air, I joined Grace at the table and ostentatiously got myself settled. Just before I hung my jacket on the back of the chair, my phone buzzed. I set my coffee and my portfolio down and took a look. It was a one-word message from Lindsey: "Sorry."

Not wanting to stand there and text in sight of the dad, I tucked the phone away and sat down. Grace and I picked up from her outline and made our slow, painful way through the first paragraph. God help me, but we'd been over this two days earlier and she had learned the material three times--my class, Mrs. Day's class, and my review session two weeks earlier. I sighed and steered her toward the right answers without actually putting words in her mouth. Fifty-five minutes later, she had a complete paragraph with some reasonable analysis. We spent the last few minutes of the regulation time planning due dates and checking for other missing work, but didn't have time to accomplish anything beyond that.

I will say that both Grace and I were very distracted by the unspoken words between us. That might explain in part why the work went so slowly. I think we both needed to process what had happened, and that obviously couldn't happen with her dad tromping around and peeking in at us periodically. In retrospect, that might have been a good thing--we definitely needed to get the essay moving after spending most of our time on Sunday in bed! I will say that Grace looked fantastic--she was still dressed for school in a pair of gray yoga pants, black sneakers, and a black alpaca hoodie that was light enough to drape deliciously over her breasts. As I packed up to go and she put her stuff away, I smiled gently at her.

"We can talk next time, okay?" I said quietly.

"Okay," she whispered. "Thanks very much for your help!" she said in a louder voice.

"My pleasure, Grace. You made some great progress!"

The dad popped out of the family room as I walked toward the door.

"All done?" he asked, ignoring the obvious and glancing at his Apple watch.

"Yes, sir. It's hard to go for more than an hour after school. She's got other homework, I'm sure, so I never push too hard when I'm tutoring."

"Makes sense!" he admitted jovially. "I hope you got more out of her over the weekend!"

"Absolutely!" I agreed, matching his tone. "She had a lot more energy!"

Ha, I thought. Kiss my ass.

"That's good! Keep it up!" he said, clapping me on the shoulder as I opened the door.

"Will do. See you soon," I said, stepping out into the late afternoon sunlight.

"Not me!" he said with a snort. "It's back to the grindstone tomorrow! Meeting in DC, then back on the plane again."

"Good luck, then...travel safely."

"Good to see you, Scott!" he said again as he closed the door.

Yeesh. Grace and Lindsey had my sympathy all of a sudden. I turned out of their driveway meditating on the strange dynamics hidden behind so many outwardly normal families. Since I was part of their strange dynamic now, I told myself to be honest and more understanding.

Just as I got on the main road, a text tone filled up the car, interrupting my thoughts and the song that had just started on Sirius radio. I stabbed the button and played the message aloud.

"Hey there," said the flat, automatic voice. "Sorry I was hiding--I've been upstairs eating THC chocolates all fucking day and I'm going crazy. Can you meet me at the Long Ridge Country Club? I told HIM I have a date to play paddle."

I had mixed feelings. The awkwardness of meeting Lindsey's husband face-to-face still lingered, and I was kind of tired of the whole dynamic. On the plus side, Lindsey was clearly stoned off her ass and needing distraction. With a sigh for my own weakness, I punched the "speech-to-text" option on the dash and agreed.

Ten minutes later, Lindsey and I had walked past the empty paddle tennis courts. Our cars were parked far apart in the country club parking lot, and she had self-consciously threaded her arm through mine as we walked along in our winter coats. The cart paths on the golf course were scraped clean, so we ambled down the closest one just to have something to do. She was definitely stoned and we set off wordlessly together.

"I'm so sorry about him," she said after we'd walked for a minute in silence.

"Lindsey--you don't need to apologize," I reassured her.

"No...I know. I'm just sorry you had to deal with him. I'm used to it, but more and more that fucking loud voice drives me nuts. I had to put up with it all weekend."

"Yeah...that would get old," I said sympathetically.

She went on for a little bit about how little he was around, and how hard it was to put up with his jocularity. I didn't want to get into a big talk about her marriage. I know I was being a hypocrite--after all, I was sleeping with the guy's wife. I just didn't want to think about him anymore or talk about him. Fortunately, the loop of path we were on didn't go down to the course itself--it curled back to the cart return right by the paddle tennis courts. After a few short minutes, we were right where we had started.

"Did I mention I'm the president of the paddle tennis club?" Lindsey said with a smile as we rounded the corner of the courts.

"No...we might have skipped that part of your life!" I responded, glad for a change of subject.

"It's a fascinating sport," she said with exaggerated enthusiasm. "It's great exercise, and the people are great, and so much of the equipment is kept right here on the premises!"

With a wide-eyed look of innocence, she stopped at a green-painted door on the side of a shed next to the fenced-in courts. Keys jingled, wood scraped, and suddenly, she ducked inside and beckoned me to follow.

It looked like an equipment shed, alright. Being a wealthy country club, it was better lit and warmer than I expected, but otherwise normal. There were shelves with rolled-up nets, sleeves of new balls, paddles on hooks, storage bins full of god-knows-what, and a half-naked woman pulling her boots off...

"Come on!" Lindsey said with a smile as she hopped to tug at her remaining boot. "I've been thinking about you for a goddamn hour and I'm really high!"

Her jacket was thrown aside and her turtleneck was gone. Her breasts bounced almost comically as she completed the boot removal, and I stood totally still grinning at the sight before me and laughing softly. When the boot thumped to the floor, Lindsey wasted no further time. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her colorful leggings and whisked them down to the plank floor. Then she stood up and put her hands on her hips, her legs shoulder-width apart and a mock-furious look on her face.

"What do I have to do to get laid around here?" she demanded.

As much as I wanted to jump her right then and there, I needed to clear something up. I stalled for time by throwing my coat aside as brusquely as she had done with hers, then stepped up close in front of her.

"You mean you didn't get any this weekend?" I asked with a leer.

"Like I'd let that fucker touch me!" she snorted.

I was relieved to hear that. No guy wants to go second.

"So now you're dragging strange men into the shed and demanding sex?" I asked archly.

"Yup. But not strange men. Only guys I like who have also fucked my daughter."

"I'm guessing that's a pretty small list," I responded without losing my leer.

"Fucking right it is!" she laughed. "And it's one MORE reason I'm so horny. We'll talk about THAT some other time. Right now, I'm stoned and I'm horny and I need some distraction and some satisfaction and you're wasting time!"

"God protect me from stoned, horny women!" I begged, rolling my eyes to the ceiling.

I couldn't stop from grinning, though, as I said that and my fingers were already fumbling with my zipper. Lindsey kicked her clothes into a pile in front of me and dropped to her knees to assist. With practiced ease, she fished my thickening cock out of the double obstacle of my pants and boxers and wrapped her thumb underneath it.

"Oh, no...that won't do at ALL!" she pouted.

I saw a trace of a smile before she lunged forward and took me entirely into her mouth. The suction was immediate and furious and she squeezed me tightly with her thumb and forefinger. Her other hand, meanwhile, was busy with her pussy. I stroked her hair and her shoulders and savored the feeling of my cock swelling in her mouth, loving the power dynamic of being fully clothed while she knelt naked in front of me. Every man's slave-girl fantasy, I laughed to myself.

After just a minute of her avid sucking, my cock was fully erect and bumping the back of her throat. Lindsey was really worked up--her head twisted and her tongue lapped the base of my shaft as she drooled all over me. With a guttural moan, she popped her mouth off and looked up at me, her hand now stroking me firmly.

"Well, mister student molester, are you ready to fuck?" she asked lasciviously.

Her face was flushed, her eyes were a bit glassy, and she looked sexy as hell. But for once, her veering sense of humor flicked a nerve and I felt irritation swell. Who was she to call me out for having sex with a student when she was the one who pushed it? I'm sure it was my guilty conscience hiding behind anger, but I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to her feet.

"Goddamn right!" I growled, trying to make it sound playful.

Spotting a storage bin that looked sturdy, I walked her backward to it and lifted her up by the waist. She squealed when her ass hit the cold plastic, but her legs flew open and her pussy glistened obscenely as her arms reached out to pull me in. I took a second to throw open my belt and push my pants and underwear down to mid-thigh before I stepped forward. I had judged the height correctly and with only a slight adjustment, my cock found her opening at the same time my lips descended on hers. I buried myself inside her with one hard push and her arms wrapped around my back tightly.

"God, yes!" she groaned as I bottomed out inside her.

She clung to me like a limpet as I vented my residual frustration at the whole situation, pumping her mercilessly. Her tongue was diving into my mouth and then pulling back so that she could bite my lip, her entire body writhing with pleasure as I drove into her.

My hands roamed from her shoulders to the swell of her hips, pulling her into me as my thighs bumped against hers, spreading her wide open to my assault. That's what it was, in fact. This was not love-making. This was angry sex on my part and desperate, horny, neglected, stoned sex on hers. Our bodies slapped together almost frantically as I tried to give her what she so clearly needed.

After one particularly hard pull forward on her hips, the storage bin rocked forward. Lindsey let go of me instinctively and leaned back, bracing her hands on the back corners to balance it. Her head fell backward, stretching her sexy neck fully, and her breasts stood up proudly, begging for attention. I grabbed them with both hands, squeezing hard, pinching and pulling her nipples as I fucked her for all I was worth and she gasped with pleasure and pain combined.

"Fuck, yes!" she hissed. "Pinch them harder!"

Tilting herself back changed my angle of entry and my cock was grazing along the top of her pussy as I thrust into her, hitting her G-spot with every stroke. I knew I couldn't last long, so I did what she asked and mauled her breasts, pinching the areolae, grabbing the undersides and wrapping my whole hand around each one roughly, and pushing her nipples in with my thumbs. Her breathing grew ragged and she started to push her hips into me with every thrust, closer and closer to a powerful orgasm. The taut muscles of her belly and sides quivered with the strain.

Fortunately, our timing was good. Just as the pressure of her clasping, slick pussy got the best of me, her body responded as well. I slammed into her and pulled her to me by the waist, jerking her torso up as I started to ejaculate, bathing her insides in scalding waves. Her legs spasmed up and locked around my ass as that triggered her explosion and her arms wrapped tightly around me, her head buried in my shirt as we clung to each other and shuddered through our orgasms. I barely noticed the slippery mess between us as we lost ourselves in the combined pleasure of the moment.

Lindsey let go first, and her body sagged back against the circle of my arms around her. She raised her head to look at me, her eyes half-closed, and a tired smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. I'm sure I looked the same as I gazed down at her.

"Fuck, that was good," she half-whispered.

I nodded in response, my smile getting wider.

"It's good to be the president of the paddle tennis club, isn't it?" I teased.

"Some days it is," she sighed.

"Now clean me up," I said sternly, looking down at the juncture of our bodies.

She giggled and pushed herself forward off the bin, sliding to her knees sensually. Her eyes never broke contact with mine as she took me back into her mouth, her tongue reaching all around my shaft to lap up our juices. When my cock was clean, she let go and worked her way slowly around my groin getting every trace of moisture. My shaft dwindled in the aftermath of her attentions and she paused to suck once more on the head, her tongue dipping into the opening to catch the last stray drop of cum.

When she was done, rocked back on her heels and looked up at me with a sexy smile.

"I have to go back soon," she said wistfully, "but I want to hear ALL about your weekend on Thursday, okay?"

"Deal," I told her as I stroked her hair.