Christmas break was speeding closer, almost at velocities that would create a sonic boom. The month of December had flown by rather quickly. Martin and I were once again thrown into our perspective work roles and saw precious little of each other. That night out on Thanksgiving weekend was but another nice memory in the sea of students, papers, other teachers, and continual restrictions on what we can and cannot say or do in the classroom.
Danny, however, always found moments during the day to sneak in some sort of interaction. Whether he was squeezing my ass as he walked by or pressing his hard cock up against me when he needed to get around me, he found some sort of way to touch me and let me know that he was still hot for me.
On another note, I found myself taking more showers when Martin wasn't due for another few hours. I was just so dirty when I got home from work. So dirty. I definitely needed to be thoroughly washed.
Of course, I never locked my door. In fact, I often forgot to even close it all the way.
In the mornings, before I went to work, Danny would hand me a pair of panties. I eventually noticed he was handing me panties I hadn't purchased. To my amusement, I realized that he'd gone out and bought a few himself. With a cheeky grin, I'd take them, put them on in the car, and wear them throughout my day. When I got home, I'd take them off (sometimes in front of him) and hand them to him. Then, I'd go shower.
As we played this "game", it started to escalate a bit. Danny started testing the limits of what he could get away with. For instance, one day we were sitting in the living room together. Martin hadn't made it home yet, so it was just us two. I was on the floor, laying on my stomach with dozens of papers that I was grading sprawled out in front of me.
Danny must've been enjoying the view of my ass in my mom jeans because he got down on the floor next to me and curiously asked about what I was doing. Thinking he was interested in my work (and feeling flattered by it) I started telling him about a few of my students and colleagues.
As I was to learn, his interest in my work was a ploy. He was actually after something else entirely. As I was telling him humorous and anecdotal stories of the people I encountered daily, he lifted my shirt a bit and was rubbing my lower back. Naturally, his hand slid down and under the narrow space my jeans provided for him to get to my ass.
I looked at his smirk, and I knew what he wanted. So, I rolled over a bit and let him undo the button of my jeans. With that loosened, he was able to yank them down, exposing my panty covered ass.
Even though he was barely listening, I continued talking as if oblivious to him massaging my buttocks. I even let him pull down my panties. He had his fun, spreading my cheeks to get a peek at my asshole and pussy. I did have to ask for a glass of water when he tried to put his face in there.
Another time, on a Saturday, I was walking around the house in just my nightshirt. Martin was home, so we had to be careful. Danny kept finding moments to lift my shirt all the way up to my neck and paw at my tits. He even got my nipples into his mouth a couple of times. When his hands snaked between my legs, I let him rub his fingers between the wet folds of my pussy, stimulating my clit. It was a subtle way to get my scent on his fingers so he could sniff them throughout the night.
I was drenched, so he got plenty of fluids on his digits. But once again, I had to ask for a glass of water when he tried to stick his fingers into my canal.
Aside from this, there were those amazing kisses that we did. The way he gave himself to me when we were locked up into each other was addictive. Yes, I loved kissing Martin, but I must admit that kissing Danny was much more enjoyable. By far. It made me wonder what other hidden talents that tongue was hiding.
A couple of days before I was sending my students home for break, Martin dropped a bombshell on me; one that changed the entire course of this thing between me and Danny. His job was sending him out of town. FOR A WEEK. And not a work week. He was set to go out of town for 7 days.
Five of the days he was set to be gone, I'd also be on Christmas break. That meant there would be no one in the house but me and Danny. Sure, Chris would also be home from college, but he was more a ghost in our house than a resident.
I didn't know how to feel about that. Was that a good thing, or a bad thing? Sometimes, the only obstacle stopping our little adventures from going too far was the fact that Martin could come home or walk around the corner at any moment. With that fear removed, there was no telling what Danny would be able to get away with.
Speaking of Danny, I'll give this to him; he had a good poker face. When Martin told him about his upcoming trip, Danny reacted ambivalent about it, much like he'd always done. But he spoke to me in our secret language when Martin's back was turned. I could see the excitement in his eyes.
Oh boy.
The day Martin left was strange. When I drove my husband to the airport, I was the loving wife I'd always been. I said all the words; did all the gestures. We walked together as far as security would let me, and then I gave him a smoldering kiss goodbye to express how much I was going to miss him.
But as my car turned onto the freeway driving away from the airport, my mind was racing over what was going to happen over the course of the next week. Without the danger of Martin looming over us, my self-control would be stretched to the limits.
How many glasses of water would I need? Would I even ask for them?
When I walked into the house, I felt my stomach fluttering. I couldn't tell if it were excitement or fear. I looked up the staircase and my eyes fell to Danny's bedroom door.
Then, something inside of me snapped. I can't explain it. All I knew was that all the anxiety just evaporated. It was like my body had decided.
It's time to play this game for real.
I dropped my purse on the couch, removed my coat, and did the same to that. Then I went straight upstairs to Danny's room. I took a second to think before knocking on his door. Up until now, our game had been about what I allowed him to do to me. That was our dynamic. This was different. This was me initiating an event.
With my decision made, I knocked on his door. When he answered, I simply said, "I'm dirty. I need a shower." As I said this, I was lifting each foot behind me and taking off my shoes, dropping it on the floor. Then I turned on my heels and sauntered towards my room.
Danny was rendered speechless as he watched me. The reason was because, as I walked away, my fingers were unbuttoning my blouse. Button by button, I was shedding "Mrs. James."
Many men may describe me as a MILF and say they wish they had a teacher who looked like me when they were in school, but the truth of the matter is, they probably did. When I'm at work, in teacher mode, I'm "Mrs. James". My blouses and slacks are so conservative that they're unflattering. I wear bland, plain jane flats on my feet. My hair is up in a bun, away from my neck and face. My glasses are on my nose. Make-up is very sparse.
I look nothing like "Veronica", the woman my husband took to that restaurant on Thanksgiving weekend. I act nothing like the slut he tossed around the room that night as he pounded me into submission. I'm certainly not like "Aunt Ronnie", the perverted bitch who gets turned on letting her nephew do things to her no nephew should ever do.
When my blouse fell to the floor, "Mrs. James" retired for the evening. "Aunt Ronnie" took the next shift.
Danny's eyes watched me as I walked away and did my striptease. I could feel his lustful gaze on me, even without me turning back to look at him. After my blouse hit the floor, my pants were next. By the time I reached my room, I was only clothed in my bra, panties, and flesh-toned tights.
I then turned and gave him a final look over my shoulder before entering my room, pushing my bedroom door wide open as I did so.
