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Introduction:

There is an old saying, "The sweetest watermelon is the one stolen from a farmer's patch." I agree. I have raped 8 wives, at the time of this writing. I can assure you, there is nothing sweeter than making another man's wife cum when it's the last thing she wants to do.
Patience...sometimes it's much more than a virtue.

My daughter Skye went to a small, parochial elementary school in downtown Chicago. I had the honor of taking my little firebrand to her first day of kindergarten because mom had a full roster of patients to see that day. I didn’t mind. I love spending time with my girl and keen to see how she would react to being left alone in the company of her classmates for the first time.

“You have to walk me in,” Skye said, as I pulled into one of the few remaining spaces of the school’s parking lot. She unzipped her backpack and pulled out a laminated badge attached to a long, navy-blue lanyard and slipped it over my head. The badge had Skye’s picture and the text proclaimed in bold letters, I AM SKYE DANIELS’ DAD! “You have to wear this whenever you pick me up, so don’t lose it, dad.” She firmly instructed me.

“I won’t. I promise” I smiled and held my pinky up which she quickly locked together with her own. “You ready?” I asked.

“Hell yeah.” She quipped, “let’s do this!” We got out of the car, Skye slung her backpack over one shoulder and held her hand out to me. As soon as I took it, she quickly marched us across the parking lot toward the main entrance.

Inside, the hall was clotted with frantic mothers trying desperately to calm their hysterical, squalling brats. One mother, just to my left, was literally pinned to the wall by her screaming boy. I'm sure the sound of his wailing would have been deafening, had his face not been pasted tightly to the woman's crotch, which muffled his howls nicely, I thought. Mom flashed me an embarrassed smile as the boy's hands tore at her skirt, like he wanted to crawl underneath it to hide from the world. I smiled back and nodded in sympathy. She was in mortal combat with her son, trying to push him back from between her legs with one hand and holding her skirt down with the other. I watched with interest, waiting to see who might win. Just as the kid raised her skirt enough that I could see a glimpse of her rather nice buttock, I felt my daughter pull my hand hard, leading us further into the gauntlet.

"Do you know where we're going, hon?" I asked her.

"Dad, I had to stop by my class when mom registered me in July. I know where it is!" She huffed back at me, as if I had impugned her navigational skills. I let her lead on.

I took note that most of the mothers comforting their children were in one form of doggystyle position or another. Some, on their knees bent over at the waist, to hug their mewling offspring. Several more were in a proper four-point position; on hands and knees, nose to nose with their bawling brats, suing for peace.

I made a mental note of which kids I'd encourage my daughter to befriend, for my benefit, of course.

There was a sad looking boy with a buzzcut of angel blond hair, the same color as his mom's. She was on her knees and elbows trying to console him.

"Travis," I heard her beg, "mommy will be back to pick up up in just a few hours, I promise!"

Her hair blocked her face from my view, but the incredibly tight jeans she was wearing revealed a glorious, perfect ass, arched beautifully in the air to my delight. That ass put "Travis" on my list of potential friends for my daughter.

A little further along, I saw a girl who seemed a bit tall for kindergarten. She had stopped crying and was looking up at me, as my daughter and I passed. Her expression was one I knew well; damaged.

Her mom was dressed in that ubiquitous style; olive yoga pants, swashbuckler boots up to the knee, and a snug-fitting blouse. I could see every curve of her body, every swell of flesh, even the buds of her thick nipples were discernible through her light bra. And then, as if to see what or who her daughter was looking at, she turned to me and our eyes met. She was beautiful, maybe a model, with deep green eyes. Eyes with the same expression as her daughter's. In that moment, the victim in her recognized the predator in me. I smiled at her and moved along. Yoga-pants-mom just moved up to the top of my list. I would instruct Skye to get the girl's number so I could arrange a "playdate" with mom by the end of the week. My cock was starting to swell. I had no idea taking my daughter to school on her first day would be so...stimulating. Little did I know.

Skye led me through the door of her classroom where I was greeted by the subject of this story. My daughter's teacher squealed with delight as we entered. She squatted carefully in her dress to speak to my daughter face to face.

"Hello, Skye! Are you ready to start kindergarten today?" She beamed like a proper kindergarten teacher.

"I sure am, Ms. Waits!" Skye answered with equal enthusiasm.

"Well so am I! Put your backpack in your cubby and I'll say goodbye to your dad, okay?" Ms. Waits instructed.

"Okay!" My daughter didn't even look back at me as she ran to the row of cubby-holes lined along the back wall of the class. She quickly found the one with her name on it. Suddenly, Ms. Waits popped back up in my line of view.

"Hello, Skye’s Dad," She said, holding her hand out to me. My hand lunged out automatically to accept hers, and I felt the cool skin of her touch as I wrapped her fingers in mine. She capped our hands with her left hand which revealed a wedding band and ring crowned with a very large, very conspicuous, marquis-cut diamond. Married. To money. I nearly swooned under the excitement of my good fortune.

"Hello, Ms. Waits, I’m Tom" I said, shaking her hand more gently than I usually do. Then looking down at her ring, "Or I should say, Mrs. Waits."

"Ms. or Mrs. Waits is just for the kids," she smiled, "you can call me Connie, if you like." If I like? Holy fuck. This woman, standing in front of me, my daughter's kindergarten teacher was the epitome of my ideal rape-bait. Bells and alarms were shooting off in my brain as my eyes covertly scanned her from head to toe. She couldn't have been more than 5'2" tall, considerably shorter than my 5'11". Her hair was that natural, fiery red that is so rare to find, and it was cropped close to frame her face which had strong, angular features. Her eyes were brown with flecks of rust. Her mouth was full, and her lips parted naturally allowing a peak at her straight, white teeth. She wore a pale blue summer dress made of light material that clung to her torso nicely, but modestly. The skirt flared slightly and moved freely. The neckline was cut square revealing little of her chest, just a frame of white liquid skin dusted with freckles, the same color as her eyes. Her breasts were high and clearly outlined beneath the dress, again, modestly. Perfect in size, maybe a B cup and very firm. She had a very thin frame, but her bare legs looked strong. I learned later that she was a serious runner.

"Hello? Skye's dad...?" I realized I still had her hand in mine and that I might not have been as stealthy as I thought.

“I’m sorry…Connie.” I met her smile and looked deep into her eyes. “I spaced out a bit because I was thinking; should I be proud that my daughter isn’t one of those separation-anxiety-inflicted munchkins out there in the hall, or sad, that she obviously has no problem watching me leave?”

“Healthy independence is the sign of a healthy child, Tom. Be proud!” Her eyes gleamed, her smile widened. My God, the sound of my name in her voice…I wanted to hear her shout it at the top of her lungs with my cock buried inside her to the root.

“Then I shall be, proud.” My eyes never left hers, I wouldn’t allow it and she held my gaze a bit longer than she should have. “I should go and let you carry on,” I said, “you have quite a challenge waiting in the hall for you, I’m afraid.”

“Yes, I saw,” she cocked her head and scrunched her eyes a bit. “But I have a secret weapon even the most hysterical child cannot resist.” With that, she spun from me and launched herself across the room, my eyes glued to her skirt swishing side to side and the muscles of her ass working it from beneath. She picked up a small cage from the window ledge, spun back around and wheeled towards me again. She winked as she passed me, I saw a small hedgehog nosing around in the cage, super cute. I followed her out the door.

She kneeled in the hallway setting the cage down in the middle of that throng of sad children and said, “I found this strange creature in my garden this morning, does anyone know what it is?” Like magic, every child stopped crying and turned to look at the small ball of spines with the adorable little face poking around in the cage. “It’s a turtle,” one particularly dim child offered. “No, it’s a rabbit,” said another. In the span of a minute, Connie had bewitched them all, and I saw the mothers slowly backing away, down the hall, joy etched on their faces as they made their escape before being missed. I winked at Connie as I passed her.

I quickened my pace and caught up with Ms. Olive-yoga-pants. “Excuse me,” I said with just a touch of an edge, “is your daughter in Connie’s class as well?” She slowed and turned toward me.

“Isn’t that obvious?” She chose sarcasm as a defense mechanism which is easily disarmed. I walked up to her closely so that I could speak without anyone else hearing and intimidate her at the same time. She smelled fresh and ready to be used. Her face was perfectly formed, she really did look like a model.

“There’s no need to be rude,” I said, letting all emotion drain from my face. “I don’t like rude people, but I very much enjoy correcting them.” I let that sink in a bit before I added, “And no, it’s not obvious. Your girl is quite tall for her age, she could be 1st or 2nd grade easily. So, I’ll ask again, is your daughter in Connie’s class?” I could see color raising in her cheeks and a crimson blush spread across the portion of chest that was exposed above the top button of her blouse. The tempo of her breath had noticeably quickened as well.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude, you just caught me off guard. Yes, my daughter, Karen is in Connie’s kindergarten class.” My proximity to her had pushed her back against the short lockers that lined the hallway. She was out of room, and I was out of patience. Meeting Connie had aroused me to the point I could feel my cock soaking my underwear in pre-cum. I needed release.

“Karen. Such a sweet name for a sweet girl.” I said without smiling. “Let me guess your name. It would have to be short and gruff, just like your rude, bitchy attitude.”

“I beg your par- “she began, until I cut her off cold.

“Begging is something I bet you do quite well.” I glanced back up the hallway; it was empty now. Connie had corralled all the kids into her classroom and the door was now closed. “I asked you a question, very nicely, and you snapped at me.” I raised my hand to her breast and caught her nipple between my index finger and thumb. I pulled it toward me while I slowly increased the pressure. Her eyes widened and I watched her blink as her brain began registering the pain. “My first guess would be, Cunt, because that’s what I would name someone if I thought she was going to grow up to become unnecessarily rude. I’m sure your parents did not have the benefit of knowing the future, so what did they name you? Helga?” More pressure. “Virginia? Doris? Tell me, what flinty little name did they give to you?”

“Courtney.” She managed to squeal. I let go and watched her breast snap back into place, her nipple clearly standing up against the fabric of her blouse.

“Courtney. Of course.” Then I smiled. "What does your husband do?"

"Besides ignoring me?" She laughed at her own joke. "He's in sales. Travels a lot."

“Well, Courtney, I think your Karen and my Skye are going to be great friends. Playdates, movies…sleepovers.”

“I don’t let her do sleepovers anymore.” I could see the panic welling up inside her chest.

“Not anymore? Not anymore after what, I wonder?” I slid my hand around her upper arm and began escorting her from the building. “That’s a story I look forward to hearing. But you will. You will allow her to do sleepovers at my house at least twice or so a month. And you will let her, because you will be there too, to watch over her. Won’t you?”

“I suppose that would be okay.” She was letting me guide her freely now, across the parking lot toward my car.

“Yes, that would be okay.” I opened the passenger side door for her. “But, first, I need for you to apologize properly to me for being rude. Get in.” I saw her quickly scan the parking lot as if to see if anyone might be watching. Then she quickly ducked down and got inside. I closed the door, walked around to the other side and got in. “You’re very beautiful, Courtney. But you know that, don’t you?”

“It’s not been a blessing.” She said, with a sadness that only a beautiful woman can truly know, in speaking about her own beauty.

“More trouble than it’s worth sometimes.” I said, unzipping my trousers and reaching in to pull out my ridiculously hard cock. “All that unwanted attention,” I added as I placed her hand around my bar of flesh. “Who was first? Who was first in your family to cave into their lust for your beauty and violate you?” I released her hand, she continued to stroke it on her own power.

“How…? I had three brothers. Have three brothers.” She answered. My cock was leaking profusely now, running over her knuckles. “My oldest brother came into my room one night and said that he wanted to teach me something that I was going to have to learn anyway. I idolized him. When he laid down next to me and pulled out his dick I was so surprised. I had no idea they could get that big, that hard. He said we were going to play “boyfriend and girlfriend,” and this is what good girlfriends did for their boyfriends. He put it in my mouth and showed me how to suck him. I liked it. The sounds he made. The nice things he said while I bobbed my head for him. I liked it. Just before he came, he told me that good girlfriends swallowed every drop that came out of their boyfriend’s dick. He held my head in place and began filling my mouth with his cum. And I liked that too. I liked swallowing his cum.”

“How often did he like to play that game?” I asked as I wrapped my hand in her hair.

“Every night. We played every night. And then he showed my other two brothers how to play. He said, “Courtney, show them how good you are at playing girlfriend!” Of course, I did. Every night. I blew all three of my brothers every night for years.” I slowly pulled her head down to my lap.

“I want to play, too, sis,” I said, mimicking an adolescent voice. “Show me how good my little sister is at this game.” And she did. I slid my hand inside her yoga pants to finger her cunt while she sucked me. She was soaking wet.

I said at the beginning, that this was a story about patience.

I’m aware I may have tested your patience with my little “Courtney Detour.” Please trust that there is method to my madness and that I added it to this story to clarify two points; one, that raping another man’s wife can happen very fast when the right opportunity comes along, and secondly, my initial meeting with the incredibly enticing kindergarten teacher, Connie, aroused to me to such a state that I threw all caution to the wind. Luckily, my instincts were correct. Courtney was an obedient slut who loved being used, yet, hated it at the same time. The rest of this story will prove that patience, stealth and perseverance can help you achieve the impossible if you can master some self-control.

I did not miss a single parent/teacher conference with Mrs. Connie Waits that year. My wife loved how engaged I was with our daughter’s educational needs and was happy to let me take point with the teacher. I cherished those 15-minute slots of time with the object of my obsession, practically squatting in those miniature, kindergarten chairs which forced Connie to show a bit more leg than she intended. I never saw her wear a pair of slacks…always a tasteful skirt or dress.

My daughter was exceptionally smart and motivated, so most of our parent-teacher time was spent gossiping about other parents and joking around. I had a knack of making her laugh to the point of hysterics. When the time was up, we looked at each other in silence for a moment, before I peeled myself out of the chair designed for the ass of a six-year-old, which always got a chuckle out of her as well.

Toward the end of the school year, I scheduled a couple of conferences with her because I was “concerned about my daughter’s progress with math.” Connie knew this was a ploy. My daughter was, and is, wicked smart. She indulged me anyway. I could feel myself growing distraught that my daughter would be moving to first grade and no longer under Mrs. Waits’ tutelage; no more private one on one conferences, no more reason to stop by with a load of school supplies the school was always struggling to keep on hand. But then, my friends, a miracle happened.

On the last day of school, we parents were to bring in party food to celebrate our kid’s matriculation into the first grade. I volunteered to bring in pizzas. I arrived early. Connie was dressed in a white summer dress that hugged her precious form nicely. I doubt she was aware of it, but her matching, teal-colored bra and panty set shown through the light material when the light hit her just right. I tried not to stare…but failed. Her body was perfect and graceful as she flitted around the room. Once everyone was there and the feast laid out, Connie took up a position at the front of the room.

“Can I have everyone’s attention please?” Bitch, please, she had my attention since day one and never lost it. I shuffled my way over towards Courtney who had leaned against the wall in the back of the crowd with her hip kicked out. I slid my hand under Courtney's skirt and cupped her pussy. She didn't even flinch. A bit of fumbling and I had three fingers inside her to the knuckles she was so wet.

"I think someone else wants to fuck Mrs. Waits as much as I do." I whispered into Courtney's ear.

"Fuck yes." She whispered back. "Can you imagine what she must look like naked?" I added my thumb up her ass and I felt her cum quietly as Mrs. Waits shared her news.

“Usually, this day, the last day of class is bitter-sweet for me." She said. "Sweet, in that I get to see my students, who have learned so much, advance to first grade. Bitter, in that I am sad to see all these students that I’ve grown to care about very much, move on to another teacher. This year is different. This year is a Sweet/sweet year.” All the parents glanced at each other wondering where this was going. I dug deeper into Courtney's pussy.

“As most of you know,” she continued, “Ms. Decker, our first grade teacher’s son had a terrible car accident last month. She has decided to take next year off to help with his rehabilitation. On short notice, the school was able to find a replacement teacher, but she prefers to teach kindergarten. Mr. Warton, the principle asked me if I would be willing to step into Ms. Decker’s place to teach 1st grade and let Ms. Demmings take the kindergarten class. So, I will be graduating right along with all of you! We are all moving to 1st grade together!” The entire classroom erupted in applause and screams of approval. I pulled my fingers out of Courtney and applauded as well. Everyone loved Connie Waits, but I planned on doing something about it, soon I hoped.

Skye and I finished packing up all her things and readying to leave when Karen, spawn of Courtney, grabbed my daughter’s hand and said that Ms. Waits was going to let them feed Heidi the Hedgehog one last time. While I stood near the door, Connie flitted up to me, her eyes full of mirth.

“You’re stuck with me for another year of boring parent/teacher conferences, Tom.” I smiled, then very deliberately dropped my eyes to her breasts, lingering there for a moment before moving lower, all the way down to the leather sandals she wore, then slowly back up again to meet her eyes. Her brows were slightly pitched up in surprise at my bold survey of her goods.

“Connie, you know how much I enjoy our meetings. Don’t you?” I hung the question out like an apple, waiting to see if she would accept the forbidden fruit.

“Is it the meetings you enjoy so much, or my dresses?” She parried back to my surprise.

“I can’t lie. I do love a nice…frock. And you wear them very well.” I countered. Silence.

“I’m ready, dad, let’s go!” Skye barked, as she regathered her things.

“Sure thing, Munchkin,” I replied, then turned back to Connie. “I look forward to our meetings and your wardrobe choices next year, Ms. Waits. I mean, Mrs. Waits.” I followed my daughter out the door.

Three months later the new school term began. My contact with Connie was restricted to polite, brief pleasantries on those days I picked Skye up from school. It wasn’t until mid-October that the first Parent/Teacher conference was scheduled. I purposely signed up for the last available time slot. I waited outside the 1st grade classroom door, pacing a bit impatiently in the hallway waiting for my turn.

Finally, I heard cheerful voices moving toward the door, then the heavy nob turning. Connie’s voice flooded the hallway as the door opened slowly, “She’s doing great, Nadine! She’s a great student.” Nadine stepped into the hallway.

“She thinks the world of you, Connie. We are so lucky that you moved into 1st grade, all the kids love you.” Nadine gushed. “Thanks for your time. Good-bye.” Nadine turned and headed down the hallway toward the exit.

A moment later, Connie popped her head through the doorway. “Last, but not least, as they say, hey Tom?” She smiled, but I could see that she was tired. It was nearly 8:00 PM, and I’m sure her day started before the sun was up.

“Better than least, but not last, Connie.” I quipped as I walked the few paces to her class. Once inside, I saw that she stood opposite of a miniature table with her hands on her hips, the expression on her face said, “You’re damn right, I didn’t disappoint.” She wore a light blue, sleeveless dress that hugged her body tightly from the top all the down to her mid-thigh. A thick zipper ran from the top of the dress, down between her tear-shaped breasts, over the slight swell of her belly, ending at the hem. She looked stunning.

“Oh, let me get Skye’s file.” She turned away from me and walked to her desk. The dress was so tightly molded to her that I could see the muscles of her bubble butt bunching up, left, then right, with every step she took. Reaching the desk, she bent over slightly to sift through her papers until she found the file she was looking for. She turned and walked back toward me, slowly. Connie always “flitted.” Tonight, she was on parade. It wasn’t until she returned to the table that I noticed she had an adult-sized office chair to sit in. “Have a seat,” she invited me to wedge myself into the tiny, Oompa Loompa chair, while she perched in her comfy throne. My eyes were level with her knees.

“1st grade looks pretty damn good on you, Connie.” I joked. “Quite a different look for you from last year.” She swiveled her chair from side to side, the tight cut of the dress forced her knees together until she reached down, pulled the hem up a little, which allowed her to cross one incredibly toned leg over the over. This whole situation had me fighting with my inner demons; every fiber of my being wanted to bend this woman over one of these desks and throw a cork into her ass…but…patience.

“I didn’t teach in this dress today, if that’s what you mean, Tom.” Smiling and rocking her leg. “That wouldn’t be very appropriate. I’m going out to dinner with my husband after our meeting and wanted to wear something he might like to see me in. I changed just before the conferences started.” The smile. The swivel. Fuck, I felt like I was being hypnotized.

“I’m jealous. After our conversation last year, I thought you might have chosen this dress for me.” I chuckled. “I’m sure he will enjoy what you’re wearing, but I don’t see how he will be able to enjoy dinner.”

“Really? Why not? We’re going to his favorite restaurant.” She said as she absently reached down to scratch her outer-thigh at the hem.”

“If I were him, I would be thinking of only one thing I wanted to eat, and I promise, it wouldn’t be on the menu.” Her chair stopped. Her eyes narrowed. She opened the file on her lap.

“Let’s focus on Skye, shall we Thomas?” She said evenly, as she glanced down at the papers. “Skye has adapted very well to 1st grade; she is at grade level or above in every subject. She can be a bit demanding of her peers, likes to boss them around some, dominate them and bend them to her will. I wonder where she gets that from, Thomas?” Thomas. Not Tom. I felt anger beginning to radiate through my core at her formality.

“Some people lead, others need to be led, Connie.” There was more anger tinging my voice than I intended. “Being dominate, bending people to your will is a sign of strong leadership skills. Most people can’t decide on anything, they don’t have the courage to be honest with their needs or desires. Someone has to push them forward into action, Connie. Someone has to force them to take the next step they are afraid to take. In a world of sheep and lions, I prefer that my daughter have fangs and claws.”

“I’m not criticizing, Thomas.” She barely got that out before I lost my temper completely.

“And why is it, Thomas, now?” I stood up so quickly, the chair clung to my hips until I was fully straight, then let go clattering to the floor. “Since day one it’s been Tom! I make one, slightly off-color remark about your husband’s dining preferences, and it’s back to Thomas and taking shots at my daughter’s Type A personality?” A novice of our hobby might have taken this very moment to act on impulse, to let the anger propel him into asuaging his desire in her body. But a novice unable to accurately read a situation and control his impulses, will remain a novice sitting behind bars. You cannot rape your daughter’s teacher in her classroom at a conference without an insurance policy, without some leverage to ensure her silence so that it is never reported. I didn’t have that advantage now.

“I’m sorry if I mislead you, Thomas,” she said. “It’s clear I’ve let our relationship become too familiar, too casual. Otherwise you wouldn’t have made that horribly sexist, disgusting comment. And I wasn’t criticizing your daughter; it would be good for her to learn how to be more collaborative.” She said with a distinct air of condescension.

“Fuck collaboration, Connie. Collaboration is for ants. Have a great dinner.” I stormed out. There is nothing I hate more than being toyed with, and this bitch had played me for almost two years. My wife attended all conferences from that point forward, and I saw Connie just once in the next couple of years at a fundraiser for the school. She was there with her husband and two kids. We didn’t speak, but it seemed like everytime I glanced in her direction, I caught her looking at me, before quickly turning away.

The start of my daughter’s 5th grade year, nearly six years into my obsession with Mrs. Connie Waits, I finally got exactly what I wanted all that time. Patience...

I had forgot to get Skye’s tuition check in the mail and today was the deadline. I called the school’s office to let them know that I couldn’t be there until nearly 6:00 PM; would somebody be there to accept my payment. I was told to come as quickly as I could, but someone would be there. Of course, traffic sucked the whole way on Western Ave, especially at Belmont, I didn’t pull into the school parking lot until nearly 6:30. I dashed to the main entrance and rang the bell. Nothing. Fuck! I could hear the avalanche of shit my then, ex-wife, was going to give me because I missed the deadline. I could hear the blood rushing through my ears.

“Hello?” A voice chirped through the speaker.

“Yes! It’s Skye’s dad, I’m here to pay the tuition!” I screamed back at the box. I could hear angels singing when the buzzer rang; I pulled the handle quickly and the door opened. I was going to make it.

I climbed the stairs up to the office. Imagine my surprise when I pushed through the office door, the only person sitting at the round conference table was Mrs. Connie Waits. “Hi.” I croaked.

“Last but not least, right, Thomas.” The way she said it, let me know it was intended to trigger me. Instead, I played along.

“You are absolutely right, Mrs. Waits.” I smiled back, showing my teeth.

“Have a seat. Can I get you some water? You look like you could use it.” She smirked.

“Yes, thank you.” I replied, taking a seat and reaching into my breast pocket for my checkbook. Connie stood up and walked into a large closet area set up to secure some of the more expensive supplies and the copier. She returned quickly with a cold bottle. She wore a khaki dress, the tight, buttoned bodice accented her breasts very nicely, and the skirt flared out in pleats. Fuck. I love pleats. I took a long drink of water. “I thought I had mailed the check in, but then I got the warning email letting me know I hadn’t. Thanks for being here.”

“Of course, Thomas.” She chuckled, leaning her elbow on the arm of the chair. “It’s quite a chunk of money we ask for, the least we can do is be here to receive it.”

“I appreciate it.” I said as I began filling out the check. “But why, Mrs. Waits? Why are you here? I expected the secretary or the principal to be here. I'm surprised to see you waiting for me.”

“The principal is here.” She replied. I looked around the office. We were the only ones there.

“He in the bathroom or something?” I asked.

“You really have disengaged since our little…incident.” She chuckled. “Didn’t your wife-“

“Ex-wife.” I interjected.

“Didn’t your ex-wife tell you? I am the principal, now.” She shared, gleefully. “It’s my second year.”

“Oh, wow,” I said rather flatly. “Congratulations.” I tore the check out and pushed it toward her. “Is the amount correct, Mrs Waits?” She picked it up to look it over.

“The amount is correct, but I was hoping you had made it out to me instead of the school.” She giggled. “Just kidding.”

“Great, well, thank you again, Mrs. Waits for giving me some extra time to get here.” I stood up. “And congratulations, I’m sure the school is well served by making you principal.”

“I think they made the right choice, but I’m biased.” She laid her left hand flat on the table and began fiddling with the obscenely large diamond ring. “Before you leave, I think you’re forgetting something.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Well, the last time we met, you said some things that were inappropriate and offensive.” Her voice took on a serious tone. “Then you stormed out. I would think that you wanted to apologize to me. I’ve been waiting four years for it.” I leaned over the table, supporting myself on my hands, I moved in closer to her.

“I owe you an apology?” I asked.

“Especially now that I’m the principal. In this school, what I say, goes.” She leaned back and shrugged. “If I don’t think Skye should be on the volleyball team because she is too bossy, then she’s not on the team. If I think she shouldn’t be involved with STEM because she bullies the other kids into doing the projects she wants to do, then she’s not involved in STEM. I think an apology from you, and some assurance that you will curb her demanding attitude would keep her chances of participating in those activities alive.” She thought she had pinned me against the wall with this. Instead, she inspired me.

“Mrs. Waits, you say you have waited four years for my apology. I have waited the same amount of time for some things from you.” I walked around and sat on the table, directly in front of her. My proximity to her must have triggered some alarms in her head because she started to roll her chair back away from me. I quickly raised my leg to hook my toe underneath the seat, pulling her back.

“What are you doing?” She spat at me.

“Well, cunt, you feel I owe you an apology, and I know you owe me a couple of things as well. We are going to even this shit out, right here and right now.” There is a certain look that comes over a woman’s face when she is called a cunt for the very first time. With that single word, Mrs. Connie Waits’ bravado shattered like a dropped mirror. She understood that she had pushed me beyond my limit and her mind was searching desperately for a pathway back. There was none.

“You knew I that I was hot for you from the very first moment we met. You’re my flavor, Mrs. Waits, like you were custom made for my eyes.” I reached my hand out to the top button of her dress and began working it open with my fingers. She slapped my hand away and in the same movement I backhanded her hard across her cheek, stunning her. “Look at me, Mrs. Connie Waits. I’m right here, look at me.” She turned her head and looked up into my eyes. I could tell she was having trouble focusing her vision. “That’s a good girl.” I smiled and grasped the top button between my fingers and, this time, succeeded in opening it. As I moved down to the next button, I clarified my position. “I just told you how beautiful I think you are, and then you force me to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will. Do you understand me?” She nodded as the second button popped free.

“I know your type. Married woman who gets her rocks off teasing and baiting men like me, and the moment we cross the line, you feign outrage and try to make us feel like a predator.” I opened the third button and revealing black bra underneath. I moved my fingers down to the fourth button as she plead for mercy with her eyes. There would be none from me.

“That was a mistake, Mrs. Connie Waits.” I said, almost growling. “You can’t make me feel like a predator, because I am a predator and tonight you will be my prey.”

“You can’t do this. This is rape.” The fourth button popped open; one more to go.

“Yes, it is. I’m going to rape you.” I smiled sweetly.

“But…I’ll report you.” She reasoned. “I’ll report you and you’ll be arrested. You’ll go to prison. Think of what that will do to your daughter.”

“Maybe you’ll report me, maybe you won’t.” I chuckled. “If you do report me and I’m arrested, I’m going to tell them that it was consensual, that you came 3 or 4 times, but now, you must be feeling guilty, feeling angry with me for seducing you to betray your marital vows. So, you cry rape.” The last button popped open, I leaned back and folded my arms. “I will tell the cops, “If you don’t believe me, give me a lie-detector test!” Cops fucking love lie-detector tests. You know how I know that? Because that was my dad’s job. He supplied most of the precincts in Chicago with lie-detector machines and the professionals to administer the tests. I worked for my father over the summers…and what does a bored 13, 14 or 15-year-old do in his dad’s shop? You play with the machines and you learn how to beat them. Oh, yes, they will test me, Mrs Connie Waits, and I will lie, and the needle will not flinch. Then, I will demand that they test you.” Her chin had dropped as I spoke. I slowly raised my hand to lift her head back up so our eyes could meet. I gently traced my thumb across the crevasse of her lips. “Do you think you will pass the test? When they ask you whether you wanted to have sex with me? Do you think the needle would move when you said, “No?” I applied a bit of pressure on my thumb and her jaw dropped slightly, allowing me to insert the tip between her perfect, white teeth. I quickly replaced my thumb with three fingers, and slid them deeply into her mouth, gliding along the flat of her tongue. She gagged slightly but didn’t pull away. I watched a tear form in the corner of her right eye, then slide down the ridge of her cheek. I pulled my fingers back hooking them behind her lower teeth, locking my thumb beneath her chin. Like that, I pulled her up from her chair. “The last time I saw you, at the fundraiser, I watched you sneaking glances at me. You would never beat the lie-detector machine…”

I led her by her mouth into the secure closet, it afforded some privacy, and I had no idea who may happen into the office at this hour; a custodian, her husband, I had no idea. The closet would provide some opportunity to recover should I hear steps in the hall.

A folding table lined one wall of the closet. There were a few short stacks of papers arranged on it, as if they had been sorted there. I increased my grip in her mouth with my right hand, as I reached out with my left, swiping the papers off the table, showering to the floor. I pulled my fingers from her mouth and grabbed her hips, forcing her to face me, her ass pressed against the edge of the table.

“Don’t fuck with me. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will. Understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered, “I understand.”

“Excellent.” I praised her. “Now, unsnap your bra and let me see your nipples that I’ve dreamt about for the past five years.” She moved her fingers to the clasp between her breasts, as I moved mine to the zipper of my trousers. I heard that fabled “click,” and saw the cups part and fall away revealing her perfect breasts capped with a set of the puffiest nipples I have ever seen up that point, or since. My God, they were sublime.

I lifted her slightly, so that her ass was supported on the edge of the table and her back against the wall. I cupped both hands beneath her knees and brought them up, then higher still, until they were resting against her armpits. Her pleated skirt cascaded down her legs and pooled around her waist revealing the gusset of her white, french-cut panties. Her sandaled feet found purchase on the tabletop. Her toes had been perfectly manicured and lacquered with a khaki polish that matched her dress.

I took a step back to look at her, trussed up on the table like a wounded bird about to be plucked and plundered. “I’ve had such dirty thoughts about you over the years, Mrs. Waits.” I unzipped my pants and freed my cock, thick and heavy. I saw her glance down quickly, measuring my girth with her eyes before looking back up to me. “You’ve made me wait for you for so long…I hope you don’t mind if I skip the foreplay this first time. Pull your panties to the side and let me see your pussy.”

She moved a hand beneath her bent leg, sliding her fingers inside the elastic band of her panties, pulling the gusset aside, revealing the swollen lips of her perfectly shaped pussy, her clit, the jewel of the crown, emerging proudly from her furrow. A light cropping of red pubic hair perfectly feathered the pronounced rise of her mons.

I slowly stroked my cock, hard to near bursting and leaking pre-cum freely from the tip. I had wanted and waited for this for so long. Now, you understand. Patience is its own reward. I moved forward until I could feel the warm, liquid heat of her pussy envelop the crown of my cock. Slowly, I slid the head of it up and down the trench of flesh between her legs. Her chin had fallen again, watching me manipulate the hard bar of flesh erupting from my zipper, teasing her sex, caressing her clit.

“Look at me, Mrs. Waits. Look at me.” She lifted her head; her brown eyes reflected the same look of desperation I am sure she saw in mine. At that moment, I wedged the head of my cock into the entrance of her cunt, and pushed forward slowly, feeling every millimeter slide inside her until I felt the tip seat firm against her cervix. I watched her eyelids flutter as I applied more pressure, ensuring I was fully encased inside her body and held myself there, still. I reached up and took one of her nipples between my finger and thumb and squeezed until I knew she was in pain. I felt her pussy lock onto my cock like a velvet-vice.

Without warning, I withdrew my cock, all but the very tip, and with every ounce of weight and strength I could leverage, I slammed back into her. The legs of the flimsy table rose a few inches from the floor before clacking loudly back down on the cheap industrial tile. Her eyes widened in shock. Perhaps she thought this was to be some gentle, romantic coupling, an expression of unrequited love. Ha! Fuck that! I repeated my violent thrust which caused her head to loll to the side. I quickly reached up and slid my fingers into the tightly cropped hair on her head and forced her to look into my eyes, once again.

Another violent thrust. Then another. Then each in time with my words and the table clacking on the floor, “You-fucking-bitch-making-me-wait-for-so-long.” My hips grinding into hers as I drew out the word, “Looong.” It wasn’t until then that I realized she was making sounds like a wounded rabbit with each of my lunges. I could feel her pussy breathing around my cock. I unleashed another barrage.

“You-won’t-make-me-wait-again! Will-you! Will-you!”

“No, Thomas,” she gasped. “No, I won’t.” I took a fresh grip beneath her knees and push her legs up until her knees rose above her shoulders, trapped against the wall. I had her bent nearly in half now as I unleashed another furious pummeling.

“You-are-god-damned-right-you-won’t! From-now-on-when-I-want-it-you-will-present-it-to-me! Understood!” Again, grinding deeply inside her.

“Yes, Thomas, I understand.” I smiled down at her.

“I don’t think you do. Not fully.” With that, I pulled my cock from her pussy, dripping with her juices. I grabbed my cock and aimed it lower, nuzzling the tip against the tight swirl of her asshole.

“No. No. Not that.” She tried to twist her hips to avoid me, but I had her locked so tightly against the wall, she had nowhere to go. Another vicious lunge and my cock slid easily into the excruciatingly tight confines of her ass. I thought her scream would shatter the glass in the window before I could mute it by covering her mouth with my hand. Her eyes begged me for some amount of mercy, some relief. I felt her fingers trying to reach for my cock buried in her ass in hopes of somehow prying it free, but I was so deep inside her, all she could do was tug at my trousers.

“Yes. Yes. That.” I lifted her feet to rest them on my shoulders, then grabbed her wrists holding them tightly in my hands. “Quietly now. Take it quietly.” I said, followed by withdrawing half my length before slamming it back into her ass. Again. Again. Again. The legs of the table were clacking again. She fought mightily not to scream, only desperate whimpers emanating from her with each thrust. “You have such a tight ass, Mrs. Waits. I’d wager it doesn’t see much action, does it?” My strokes were getting longer as her ass, surrendering to my relentless invasion, resigned itself to its fate.

“No. I don’t allow it.” She had to work hard to get the words out.

“You do now, Mrs. Waits.” I dialed back the viciousness of my thrusts to create a constant, upbeat tempo. “Get your fingers on your clit, you bitch. Show me how you like it to be touched.” She didn’t move, she was watching my cock railing her ass as if it were happening to someone else. I grabbed both her nipples between my fingers and twisted and squeezed until the pain brought her back to reality.

“What?” She asked, her voice two octaves higher than normal. I pulled back a few inches, grabbed beneath the knees once again, but this time I pushed them back and spread them apart perpendicular to her body. She was obscenely displayed for me. The lips of her pussy had thickened considerably, the color of them had deepened as well. Spread as she was, I could see her rather large clit rising from its hood like a small cock. Connie moved her left hand to her pussy, resting her index and middle fingers on either side of her bundled flesh. The light from ceiling glinted off the large stone of her wedding ring. She’s a southpaw; I hadn’t noticed. Slowly, she circled her fingers around her clit, her breath catching in short gasps as she hit it just right.

When I resumed stroking my cock into her ass, I could see that she was nearly overwhelmed with her physical reaction. It was like she was swimming up from the bottom of the ocean for each breath, before sinking again into the depths.

“You have a beautiful family, Mrs. Waits. Handsome husband. Beautiful son and daughter. I had such dirty thoughts about them after I saw them at the fundraiser. I thought about what it would be like to force you to suck your son’s cock while I fucked you from behind. Have you thought about that, Mrs. Waits? What it would be like to suck your beautiful son’s cock?” She didn’t answer. But I noticed her fingers moving more quickly over her clit, now side to side. I slammed into her ass a little harder. “But you’re daughter? My God, such a beautiful girl. I thought about sitting her in my lap, her back laid against my chest, and forcing you to watch my cock, this cock that’s fucking your ass right now, watch my cock glide in and out of her beautiful pussy. Then have her pull your head closer to make you lick my shaft as I fuck her, lick my shaft until you reach her clit and make you suck on it. Have you ever thought about that, you nasty, nasty bitch?”

Her fingers were now a blur on her own clit. I felt my cum gathering like magma in my balls. I steadied my stroke and pace. Connie had stopped breathing; her face had turned red and the veins of her neck rose beneath her skin. Then she convulsed, her orgasm triggered a fountain-spray of cum from her pussy that drenched the front of my light grey slacks, turning them black. I felt her ass clench on my cock as if to tear it from the root. She found a way finally to inhale, and once she did, another convulsion racked her body launching a second strong stream from her. This one caught me full pen in her ass so they geyser had no where to go but up, hitting me squarely in the face. My eyes, nose and mouth were soaked in her juices. I licked my lips to taste the musky sweetness. Her ass had locked down on my cock again, but this time I replied with a sustained assault of rapid thrusts. I glared at her. All the color had now drained from her face. I could feel small jets of her cum soaking the front of my pants with each sorte. It was on. I withdrew from her and pulled her off the table onto the floor. Grabbing her hair, I pulled her head up to face me stabbed my cock at her lips which she kept closed tightly. “Eat it, or wear it home to your husband, I don’t give a fuck. Here it cums!”

Thinking better of it, she opened her mouth and took the head of my cock between her lips, closing them around the crown just as I felt the world open up and my balls empty out. I could not compete with the massive fucking Bellagio waterworks show she had put on, but I gave it my best. I filled her mouth with cum as I felt her nursing gently on my cock.

“You’re a dirty fucking principal, Mrs. Waits.” I pulled out of her mouth and took a step back. She looked up at me and opened her mouth, showing me the pool of seed, I had shot there. Thick. Then she closed her mouth, looked me in the eye, and swallowed. “A dirty fucking principal, but such a good little girl.” I smiled.

Her eyes drifted down to my pants, which were now completely two-toned; a dry, light grey in the back, and a soaked front, blackened by her spray. A look of wonder on her face. “I don’t…I’ve never done that before.” I offered her my hand which she took, and I helped her up, both of us a bit unsteady.

I pulled her to me. “Lick my face. Lick my eyes. Taste yourself.” She did. When she licked around my moustache, I opened my mouth and sucked her tongue inside. I kissed her deeply then broke away.

“I’ll tell Skye to call off her dogs and not be so bossy. I will call your office to set up evening appointments with you to discuss her progress. Don’t ever make me wait.” I turned and walked out of the closet, out of her office and down the stairs. I didn’t let myself smile until I was halfway across the schoolyard to my car. Holy fuck! Holy fuck! That was amazing. Next time I would bring Courtney to our meeting. Incredible.

Patience. Patience. Patience. Good things come to those who wait.
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