James Levburn walked the paved path from his car to his new, albeit temporary, home. He was impressed. It was 3 stories of old brick, ran thick with ivy that choked the windows and hung from the roof tiles. The house was part of a long terrace that stretched into the horizon, the streets lined with oaks and ancient iron bollards. Small gardens framed the houses, and the one he approached now was thick with heather.
Reaching the front door, he lifted the brass door knocker and thumped it down several times. It was shaped like a snarling lion's head. He snarled back at it, before breaking into a hyena-like grin, all teeth, and chuckled to himself.
The door was answered by Rebecca Fairchild, a work colleague of his for nearly a year. They were both teachers at the same local high school, James teaching physics while Rebecca taught english.
That was how they had met, and how James had found a place to stay after his previous house had burned down. He had suffered a truly awful week, having lost all of his possessions in one pointless accident, and he had decided he was going to treat himself. He had mentioned his plight in passing to Rebecca, knowing that she couldn't resist playing the good samaritan and inviting him to stay with her. Rebecca was what he was going to treat himself to.
"Hello--ooohhhh," she said something between a greeting and a yawn. Her eyes were screwed shut, temporarily blinded by the summer sun, and she rubbed at one eye lazily with a small fist. Her mouth was wide open in a characteristic yawn. She had full soft lips that framed a pink tongue that arched upwards invitingly.
"Hello Ms. Fairchild," he said. "Didn't wake you, did I?" As he spoke he let his eyes wander over her.
It was a passtime he often enjoyed. Rebecca was a notorious sleeper, barely a week going by without her being caught napping on her desk during one of her own classes or curled into a ball on one of the faculty staffroom's couches. James would often find himself staring at her sleeping face, watching as her eyes fluttered and she cooed softly as she slept.
Rebecca had long blonde hair that, as usual, she had pinned atop her head in a bun. Pinned up poorly - loose hairs sprung from it in all directions. Her eyes were a dancing green and she had a short upturned nose at the end of which perched a pair of square spectacles. Her skin was pale and creamy, and she had light freckles across her nose and cheeks.
Her nape was crowned with a few downy blonde hairs, and her slender shoulders disappeared beneath a white shirt that looked like it had never seen an iron. She wore a grey business jacket that she filled with the swell of large, firm breasts, and a matching pencil skirt that hugged her hips and clung tight to her perfect ass. She had long legs hidden beneath black stockings, with taut, slender calves, and thighs that promised so much before disappearing beneath her tight skirt. To make matters worse, she wore black heels that did delicious things to her legs and rump, pushing them up behind her in a way that invited thoughts of bending her over her desk and fucking her pretty little brains out.
She was wearing her work clothes. She must've gotten home and immediately fallen asleep without changing.
"Come in," she yawned dreamily, before turning and disappearing down a narrow entrance cluttered with shoes and a mountain bike propped against one wall which took up half the corridor. It was an old house, and the builders had been economical with space.
"Thanks again," he called out. "I don't think my neck could take another night sleeping in my car." He placed a large hand to the back of his neck, kneading the corded muscle there in memory of having woken the previous night with his head jammed against his car door at an angle that would make a cat wince. He moved his hand upward and through course brown hair that had been left long and unruly.
He must look terrible. He hadn't had a chance to shave recently, and his broad, muscular frame wasn't built for sleeping in the back of a small car. Oh well, he was going to make up for all that this weekend!
"Oh you poor thing! Of course it's no bother, we had a room free." The 'we' she had referred to must have been her daughters. Not that James would have ever guessed if she hadn't told him herself, but Rebecca was a mother of two. She was in her mid-thirties, but looked ten years younger, firm in all the places James cared to stare. Which was everywhere.
Her daughters both attended the same high school he worked at. The pair were 18 years old, and almost as desirable as their mother. While they lacked her raw sex appeal, they made up for it with a youthful cuteness. He was going to treat himself to Rebecca's daughters as well.
"Would you like something to drink, coffee maybe?"
"Yes," he replied brusquely as he followed her into the kitchen. There was a large dining table dominating a room too small for it, and the cabinets and shelves were decorated with various knick-knacks and cutesy dolls. You could tell that women lived here.
As they sat and drank they made small talk. James had been away from work for a week to get his affairs in order. He asked if Rebecca had had any trouble getting the afternoon off work.
"Oh no," she said, waving a hand dismissively, "I'm sure my class is doing fine without me." James found that he wasn't surprised to learn that she had left work for the day without telling anyone. She was intelligent, so he could only attribute her lack of any sort of responsibility or foresight to being half-asleep most of the day. And fully asleep the rest of the day. She would turn up to work on Monday and get chewed out for leaving a classroom of teenagers unattended, probably while looking confused at what all the fuss was about.
Despite her gross misconduct she would not be fired on the spot, because James was by no means the only male staff member to fantasize about having Ms. Fairchild on her knees in the staffroom, looking up at him with wide green eyes as he pressed his balls tight against her chin and replaced her usual lunch with thick ropey cum.
James felt his tight jeans become tighter as he imagined the prim and proper Ms. Fairchild with her little tummy full of his cum.
"I'll show you to your room," she said, closing her eyes as she smiled, oblivious to what was going through her guest's mind. They made their way deeper into the house, up two flights of stairs and a maze of hallways.
They reached his new room, at the end of a corridor so narrow that the crawl spaces in the walls were probably wider. The room itself was cramped and there was a bed against one wall, little more than a mattress atop a bare frame. He wasn't going to sleep here. He'd take her bed. She could sleep on the floor.
Without warning he grabbed her by one arm and pulled her over to him. He crushed her against the wall with his body. Her face pressed into the crook between his chest and his chin, and their eyes met. Rebecca's face was bright red, her eyes wide with shock. What was going on!?
"W-wha? Hah!" she squeaked, as his legs intertwined with her own. One of his legs came between her thighs, separating them as he shifted his weight. Her skirt rode up her thighs and beyond the tops of her stockings. They were hold ups, ending in a lacy trim that abruptly gave way to her exposed skin.
