The Principal

It’s probably been 15 years since I’ve seen you and maybe 10 years since I’ve thought about you. However, you have been on my mind as of late. I recently had surgery and I was thinking about when you came to visit me in the hospital while I recovered from the same thing I had surgery for. You brought me plants in the tackiest planter ever, but I kept it forever because it was from you. Do you remember that? Why did you come visit me? Me of all people. Do you remember when I would bring you grande no water chai tea lattes? I wanted you to know I was thinking about you. Do you remember calling to ask me out on a date to Lowe’s? My heart nearly exploded when you called. I wanted you right then and there in my room. Do you remember me coming to your door at the hotel in Hammond? I secretly wished the hotel had screwed up and put us in the same room. But I really wanted to knock on your door in the middle of the night. I wanted to slip into the bed behind you, finding your warm embrace and sweet kiss. I wished I’d been able to cuddle up next to you on the bus, fingers interlaced, my head on your chest, me feeling your heart pound with anticipation. When it was you, me, and Owen, it was like we were a family and he was mine, and more importantly, you were mine for those short, brief moments. Do you remember pulling me into the classroom so you could tell me you were leaving? I don’t recall if I cried, but I knew I would miss you. Is that why you wanted me to tutor Owen, so we could continue to see each other? I’m grateful you did. After Barb died, I longed for your phone call, hoping I could be the one to fill the void in your heart. You always made me stop in my tracks, inhaling a catch in my breath, as my eyes locked on a handsome man in a white shirt, tie, perfectly hemmed dress pants and commanding shoes. It was like you were my President and I wanted you to want me to be your First Lady. Still to this day I imagine your hands on my arms, then on the small of my back, you pulling me into you. I imagine your hand on my face, eyes locked, awaiting your kiss. I don’t think I really wanted that until now. Do you remember the time in the field house when we made eye contact from afar and you gave me a little wave and that signature smirk? It was like no time had passed and you were back in my heart, if only for that moment. It was only you and me in that field house. I wish you’d have texted me and asked to meet you somewhere. Nearly 20 years have passed and I’m no longer a brand new teacher. I’m a veteran of my craft, and yet I still want to try to impress you. The decade gap between us has narrowed and I feel like our time is now. Even though I’m hundreds of miles away and married, I find myself longing for you. My sweet, funny, introverted man. I want to know you. I want to be with you. I wish I’d realized this when you were single again. I wish you’d answer my single word text – “Steve?” It feels like I’m whispering into the ether, hoping you will hear my spirit calling yours. 

Perhaps I’ll visit the city alone as I’ve been encouraged to do. Perhaps you finally respond and we decide to get together. Sushi for dinner and walking around College Avenue or the Southside or Downtown, my arm on yours, walking in synchronized silence, I am longing for your touch. You are dressed casually, but still like when you commanded all of my respect. You move your hand to the small of my back, leading me into a horse drawn carriage. I look over to you and you envelop me, lifting my chin to look at you, you lowering your lips to kiss mine. My how I’ve wanted this for nearly two decades. You smell amazing and it’s intoxicating. Your hand moves from my arm to my thigh and you tease my bare skin beneath my dress. Steve, I need you. We finish the ride and you drive the long way back to my hotel. Rather than ask, I mutter, “I want you to come up.” We park, I thread my arm to hold onto yours and we make our way to the elevator. You lift my hand to your lips, kissing the back of it with such sweetness and desire. I can hardly stop trembling so I can open the door. The view is of the city, high up away from the rest of the world. We don’t turn the lights on and I hear you hang up your coat before coming to take mine off me. You come back to me as I’m looking out the window. I’m nervous, but I know this is what I want. I feel you spin me around, leaving your hand on my lower back, your other hand brushing back my hair, and before I know it, you are kissing my lips, then down my neck, and you pause to ask if this is okay. “Of course it is,” I whisper. “I want you.” 

You take your phone and find music – Pat Metheny – and you stride back over to me. You ask if I want a drink. “Please,” since I’m still so nervous, yet longing for our union. I never knew you to be a Scotch drinker, and we share a dram or two of Macallan you brought. I kiss you, licking up the sweet caramel sting of the whiskey. I wish you had a tie on, but I’m turned on that you’re dressed smartly casual this evening. My hands rest on your chest and you hold my wrists, eyes locked with mine. I pull away to reach for the hem of your sweater, lifting it over your head and allowing it to tumble to the floor. You slip your shoes off. You direct me to sit, so I gracefully recline in the chair to be met by you kneeling to remove my heels. My fuck me heels. I wanted to be taller so to make it easier to kiss you. I’m thankful now to be more diminutive so you can be the leader, taking charge of each step toward us making love. You reach for my hand, pulling me upward. I feel your hands reach around to my back, deftly finding the zipper of my little black dress and slowly unzipping it. I’m grateful I have lost weight, that I shaved, and that my bra and panties match. I did that for you. I stand there before you, vulnerable and longing with desire. Your eyes drink me in and I find your hand and pull you close to me. My fingers find your buttons and I undo each one until I see you clad in your white undershirt and your dress shirt is on the floor. I place my hand on your lower back and pull your waist into mine. You’re noticeably hard and I smirk, knowing I’m the reason. My brain floods with flashes of thoughts to my husband – smelling of rank weed, dressed terribly, rambling about stupid shit, singing to terrible songs, never wanting to make love to me, and just being a man who is not driven – and I’m suddenly back with you. My former boss, my principal, my leader. You continue to lead, your hands sliding down the warm taut skin of my arms until you pull my hand to your waistband. I’m grateful for the direction and grounding back to reality. It’s just you and me in this high rise. The gummy starts to kick in for me and perhaps for you, as my desire for you grows to a fever pitch. I unbuckle your belt and cup my hand around your manhood. I’ve not thought about you in this way for years, but my desire for you is more than I can handle. I unbutton your pants and they fall, revealing black boxer briefs, your bulge now extremely evident. I can smell the juices and my sex and it’s because of you. You reach around and undo my black lacy bra and my voluminous breasts spring out and fall. Your breath hitches and I see you smirk. Beth had small breasts and then none, so I’m hoping you like what you see. I’ve always thought them to be too large, but you seem to be pleased. “Steven… suck my nipples,” and you do as you’re instructed. I feel your goatee tickle my sensitive, soft skin while your hands hold my breast as you suckle. This is absolutely a turn on and I need you now more than ever. Your hands reach my waist and I feel your thumbs pull down my nylons and panties. I am so wet and I want you to notice. But first you walk me back to the bed and help place my head on the pillow. The music changes to a sensual guitar solo and the light from the street lamps and buildings catches your eye and I can make out a big smile. It is obvious you like what you see and that you’re ready with anticipation. The only thing between us is your underwear, so I gently pull it down as you hover over me, eyes locked with mine. You step out of them and gently set one knee on either side of my thighs. I know your cock is there, but I want to savor every moment before I feel you inside me. You whisper sweet nothings in my ear, talking about what you once thought of me and how you’ve waited so long for this. I shush you and silence you with a deep kiss, my tongue intertwining with yours.  Our breath synchs and you begin to caress my legs. I try to expose my throbbing pussy for you, but you have other things in mind first. You continue to kiss me, massaging my breasts and interlacing your fingers with mine. It’s like you also don’t want to forget every moment of our first union. As you kiss my neck, the tingling fire roaring down my side and leg and making me even wetter, I whisper in your ear how I wanted you to make love to me in your office after that long ride back from Hammond. Everyone had left and it was just you and me in the pitch black parking lot at 2am. I wished you’d pulled me close and we embraced before our first kiss. But I’m kind of grateful that it’s happening now and not 20 years ago. I’m much more comfortable with who I am and I know what I want and it’s you. You suck on my nipples again, reach up for a deep kiss, and then you plant little kisses all down my abdomen, noticing and pausing at my scar and your eyes match mine. You adjust my hips and you bring me to the end of the bed. You kneel before me and I can feel your warm breath at my clit. I open my legs wide for you and you start to lick my throbbing lips. I haven’t been eaten out by a man who knows how in a long, long time and it’s incredible. I lie back, enjoying the worship you’re showing me. I hold your head and ears and eventually pull you back up as I don’t want to come yet. I wipe your face clean, smelling my distinct aroma on your lips and kissing you anyway. I command you to lie back on the pillows and begin kissing down your hairy chest, down your happy trail, until I finally lay eyes on your hard cock. He’s thick and long, maybe 8”, the biggest I’ve ever been around. I lick down the front of your shaft, to the sensitive glans, and I take about half of you into my throat. I hear you catch your breath. You run your fingers through my hair and moan my name. I lick and play with your manhood and balls a little longer before finding myself in your deep kiss. I am absolutely high, tipsy, and dripping. I need you inside me – now – and I let you know with a whispered, “Steve, please make love to me. Now.” And you smirk and run one hand underneath my lower back. I sense your strong fingers lightly brushing my pussy lips, separating them and making space for your awaiting cock. You pull me back to the edge of the bed, prop my hips up with a pillow, and then I feel the head of your penis sliding up and down my slit until you find my opening. I suck in a breath as you enter me slowly. My nails scratch your back and I find myself licking your ear between moans. You move your hips in and out slowly, but then increase your pace when you realize I’m ready to come. It takes awhile because my brain doesn’t want this ecstasy to be over, but I remember we can do this again and I succumb to your thrusts as your thumb caresses my clit. You know how to please a woman and I am so grateful for that. It’s been too long. I come two and three times and you finally release inside me after I tell you it’s okay to. Warm, sticky liquid drips from my hole and onto the towel that’s thankfully on the bed. You roll onto your arm and face me as you wipe off your cock and my pussy. I feel your lips lower to mine and our tongues find one another. I hear you whisper, “that was incredible.” I’m grateful you don’t tell me you love me, because even though I want you to, love takes time. We get into the hot tub and I’m still turned on thanks to the gummy and the handsome man who just made love to me, so I allow the hot tub jet to massage my clit and vulva. My god, that’s incredible, and you’re enjoying watching my body writhe and lose control. I continue to come as you suck on my breasts. We lie back and enjoy the hot water and relaxation. I reach for the Scotch and down another dram before kissing you again. I can’t help it and before I know it, I hear the words come from my lips, “I love you, Steve. I have for twenty years and I guess I didn’t realize it until now.” You tell me you love me, too and ask, “Now what?” “Well, I’m in town for three more days. May I stay with you?”

—

We stay up all night at his house, talking and catching up and reminiscing. He tells me about the two women he’s been with before he married Barb. Now that she’s gone, he didn’t really date or become intimate with anyone. I’m grateful because I don’t want to imagine him with anyone except me and his wife, may she rest in peace. Steve’s hands always find mine. I notice that he finally no longer wears his wedding ring. That’s my cue. He is single. I don’t care that I’m not. It’s like I’m in a relationship with my brother. I love my husband but so much is missing. I know Steve. I know what he likes, what he’s good at, and I understand where he’s coming from. So I stay at his house for the next three nights. The second night, he and I are sitting on the couch and drinking Scotch when the doorbell rings. He tells me to wait here and when he returns, he reintroduces me to a 27-year old Owen. Wow. That little kid grew up. “I thought we could all have dinner together,” looking at me and then at Owen. We all smile so that settles it. Spaghetti and garlic bread and fantastic red wine. My head is abuzz and it feels like we’re a family. I hear about Owen’s golf successes and college graduation and learn that he’s recently married! He barely remembers the tutoring, but he remembers that his dad enjoyed picking him up from it. He knew even then that I was something special for his dad. It’s late and Owen heads out. The candles are dripping wax on the mantle and the fireplace roaring makes it nice and cozy in the living room. I forgot that Steve’s bedroom has a fireplace, so I go turn it on while he cleans up dinner. I turn on sensual jazz on Pandora. I’m reminded that he’s the one who introduced me to the app. I forgot that I do think about him when I use it. I go clean up a little, applying lip gloss and a little perfume. I look comfy in my pajama pants and Steve’s Hancock College hoodie. It smells like him and that makes me smile. He calls for me and I call back that I’m upstairs. He appears in the doorway and smiles a huge smile as he sees the bed turned down, the candles and fireplace alight, and then his eyes find me. I look anything but beautiful, but he tells me that’s exactly what I am – beautiful. He walks toward me and I put my arms around his neck. I can’t dance, but we sway with the music. His left hand finds my right and his right hand makes its way to my lower back. He instructs me to follow his lead and we begin to dance, properly dance. I lay my head on his chest and we both breathe in a relaxed sigh. “Hey,” he says. “What do you want to do?” Without thinking I reply, “You.” He smiles and leans down to kiss me. I feel like all we’ve done is eat and make love and I decide that’s okay. Basic and carnal needs are being met. I raise my arms and he lifts up the hoodie, sliding it over my head. I wasn’t wearing anything else on top. His sly grin reappears as he leans down to take a nipple in his mouth. I know this is not something he got to do a lot, so I let him enjoy my breasts. It’s okay because I feel worshipped. He shifts to the other one and once satisfied, he draws me in for a kiss, tongues meeting again. “Steven…,” I gasp between kisses and as he kisses the side of my neck. He knows this turns me on. I feel his manhood growing against my thigh and I, too, am ready. I take off his shirt, my pajama pants (I failed to put underwear on this evening), and his jeans and boxer briefs. Standing there naked before each other, the carnal need is palpable. He lies down and motions for me to come over. I lie next to him and then kiss him from above, taking charge. He lets out a low growl of approval. Following his lead, my hand finds his shaft and I apply pressure and glide up and down. He moans with delight and throws his head back. I’m already really wet and it’s all about him right now, so I take charge and swing my leg to his other side, my opening hovering over his thick, erect cock. I direct him into me and slowly sit down, feeling him to the hilt and he inhales sharply. I sit there still for a moment and then use my vaginal muscles to milk his hard penis. He looks at me with desire and I smile. I push him back down and start to slide up and down, riding his cock. His hips thrust into me and I hear him moan. He finally says, “I’m gonna come,” and I give him the okay to come inside me. It’s unlikely now, but 20 years ago I would have loved to have had a child with him. I felt like his wife and the mother of his children already. He’s spent and apologizes for not pleasing me. He’s pleased me plenty. I allow him to recover and when he’s ready, we go again, this time my mouth finds his growing hardness and his fingers and mouth find my still dripping slit. It’s been a long time since a man wanted to do this position with me, so it takes me a moment to allow myself to be so exposed and vulnerable. I hear him growl with approval, so I relent and relax. I feel his lips around my clit and he sucks it like it’s a little cock. He reaches around and lightly touches my asshole and I gasp. I have always been sensitive and it turns me on even more. I try to go down on him but my own pleasure makes it hard to concentrate on him. He instructs me to lie back and I find his face between my legs. His facial hair tickles my lips and clit and I begin to gyrate as he sucks and laps up my juices. “Oh Steve…” is all I can say. He continues the intensity and focus on my nether region until I begin to shudder and shake. He doesn’t relent until I am thoroughly spent. He goes to clean up, leaving me in an afterglow. I must have dozed off because I’m awakened to a warm washcloth on my sore pussy as he cleans me up. I fall deeper and deeper for him. It’s been years in the making and the absence of him has made me want him even more. He covers me up and leaves, only to return with a charcuterie board, Riesling, and water. He knows I’m dehydrated and that simple gesture makes me smile. He feeds me strawberries and cheese and he runs his fingers through my hair. He’s so conservative appearing, but he’s liberal-leaning and an absolute monster in bed. I’m grateful to be in the bed of a man who knows how to take charge and please me. We have the rest of the night and all day tomorrow, and for that I am grateful. I go to shower and I hear the door open and close and he appears in the shower with me. Water is not a great lubricant, so not much happens, but…. He finds the shower wand and uses it to wash and massage my back. He brings it down to my butt and then my crack and the pulsating water is so close to my pussy that I can hardly stand it. I am thankful his shower has a place to sit and I lie back. He takes the wand and masturbates me. I can’t even think straight and sit under the cascade of water even after having come. I help wash him off and soap up his penis and ass, which causes him to harden and I smile. 

We lie around in fluffy robes and watch something – football or an old movie or something. I don’t know as I’m too turned on and tuned into him that I ignore the rest of the world. I have one day to make up for 20 lost years. We fall asleep cuddled up on the couch with our hands and legs all jumbled up. I awaken to the smell of espresso. I remember that Steve really loves dark coffee and I smile at the memory. He brings me a cup and kisses me on the forehead. “Good morning, beautiful.” Oh, my. I finish my coffee, clean up, and get dressed. When I am ready, I look back to the bedroom and see him in a crisp white shirt, jeans, and brown dress shoes that make me want to jump his bones. My heart is full as I look at him. We decide we can’t stay in bed ALL day, so we drive around the city and he shows me how things have changed. We end up walking around Downtown and somehow we run into a former colleague. She looks at us with judgment, my hand in his, and then she smiles. “Yes,” I say, “we’re sleeping together.” And I laugh and we walk away. He takes me to a small tavern that’s newer and orders us pub eats and beer. We sit next to each other and his hand always finds its way to my thigh. I love the way he makes me feel and I love falling in love with him. 

We make it back to his place and it’s clear we want each other. He looks so handsome and I did my best to look good for him. I suggest that we watch a movie – The Princess Bride – because I feel like Buttercup to his Westley. Of course we don’t make it long without getting physical, but we start by talking and playing “what if?” What if I had been single and he’d not been married way back in 2005? What if I’d gone to work for him? What if he had let me into his hotel room that night? What is going to become of us now that I have to go back home? Can we make this work? He kisses my forehead and holds both of my hands. “I love you. I had forgotten how you make me feel. You meant so much to me back then and all of the same feelings and more came flooding back. I don’t know where we’re going with this, but I know for sure that I need you.”

I decide that I’m going to enjoy the rest of this evening before my early flight out. He lets me take a photo of him because that shirt, those shoes, wow. He is a stud. I’m in a dress and boots with warm leggings and a scarf. I feel super cute and I think we look great together. He walks over to me and pulls me toward him, his hand on the small of my back and the other on the back of my head, fingers intwined in my hair. He caresses my face and I kiss his hand. “You are so handsome. I’ve always thought so.” He smiles and leans to kiss me. He doesn’t have to lean far since I have my boots on. I know they’re a turn on for him and I want to make this last night special. We kiss passionately and deeply until he stops and says, “May I make love to you all night?” Oh my heavens, of course. He takes off my scarf and throws it to the chair. I sit and take off my boots. He pulls the clip out of my hair and it all falls around us. I can’t help but just stare at him. He takes my hand and pulls me close. “May I kiss you?” “Oh you needn’t ask. Isn’t it just assumed that you may?” “I wanted to show you that I respect you.” I reach my chin up and kiss him passionately. I need a breather and take a moment to unbutton that crisp white shirt, revealing a muscular 50-something man. He throws his shirt to the chair and kicks off his shoes. He walks to me and puts his hand on my back under my dress. He continues to lift my dress up and over my head. I let him know that I want to go get comfortable. He’s kind of standing there dumbfounded, but he can wait. I am thankful I have a matching set of a red bra and panties and that I had the wherewithal to pack a black chamois. My husband doesn’t get turned on by lingerie, so it’s nice to show it off to a man who does. “Mercy,” he cries when he sees me again. He’s standing there in his jeans, but I can tell he’s hard. I’m thankful he can still perform at his age. I’ve always enjoyed older men and he is no exception. I sashay over to him as he is busy putting on a sensual playlist. When he turns to look back, his mouth is agape, impressed to see a beautiful, sexy woman in his bedroom. “My God, woman, look at you.” He stares at me and reaches a hand out, signaling that he wants me to come closer. I take his hand and he tugs, bringing me stumbling until I fall into his waiting arms. He holds me tightly, showing that he is my protector, that he’ll never let anything happen to me. “I’ve got you,” he whispers, and I start to cry on his chest. I lift my head to look at him and his thumb wipes away my tears. “Don’t cry, lassie,” in his best Pierce Brosnan-sounding Scottish accent and he places a gentle kiss on my lips. “How am I going to walk away from this, from us?” He doesn’t respond and just looks at me with pure love and adoration. I don’t understand how we can keep this going, being so far away and all, but I have to try. “Let’s not worry about that right now,” he implores me, and he loosens his hold on me, directing me to the bed. The fireplace is flickering and crackling, the candles alight on the mantle, wafting a sensual aroma toward us, and the music is all sensory overload and I’m flooded with dopamine. We share an edible and a kiss. He climbs to my right, sitting on his knees and smiling, just looking at me in the glow. Finally, he leans down and kisses me, weight on his forearm, his other arm reaching over to my breast. He reaches behind me and with one motion, he unclasps the bra of my chamois. He pulls down and removes what little I’m wearing. Throwing it to the side, he locks on me with bedroom eyes and I fall all over again. He brushes his hands down my body as he slides himself to the end of the bed. I feel him gently pull my legs apart and he reaches one finger forward to my womanhood, lightly tickling my lips.  He climbs forward, separating my lips with both hands as he leans down to lick my clit. My breath hitches and he looks up to me. He closes his eyes and lowers his tongue to my opening and back up to my clit. He repeats this, with increasing fervor, until I am so close to my release. He slows down and finally stops, lifting his head from my body. He rises to unbutton and remove his jeans and boxer briefs, and when he does, his cock springs out and up, hard from all the foreplay. He stretches up to kiss me and I feel his engorged manhood slide along my thigh until it rests on top of my bush. Our breaths synchronize and slow down. He reaches down and directs himself into me and I gasp. He smiles and inches himself in further. He continues this until he’s finally all the way inside me. He fills my pussy up and he presses against my clit every time he thrusts into and out of me. My legs grow numb and weak and my head feels all spinny. It’s euphoric. Then Steve reaches up and places his hand on the bed next to my face, lowering himself onto me all while entering me. He continues to thrust in and out, varying speeds and intensities to make me last longer until I can’t take it anymore. “Please, sir, make me come.” He stops thrusting and looks me in the eye and smirks, you know the way he does. He drives into me, intensely, until my legs begin to quiver. He grabs my ankles and moves them to his shoulders and I shift down, squeezing his length with my pussy. He continues to thrust in and out until I have the best orgasm of my life. “Ohhhh Steeeeeevvvve….” I writhe and pulsate, coming hard and allowing him to continue filling me up. I finally stop coming and I look up to see him smiling at me, and I can’t help but feel love. I clean up and then slide in bed, holding him from behind. Sometime in the middle of the night, we both wake up, streetlight illuminating our faces. We turn to each other and make out before I feel Steve’s masculine hand at my bush. He spits on his fingers and spreads my lips, moistening my clit and lips. He lightly touches my lips and then he puts a little more pressure on my clit. His two fingers work back and forth in my soft lips until I demand he touch my clit and make me come. This is such a turn on for me. I lie back and I feel his fingers massaging my nipples and then I gasp as he laps up my juices with his tongue. He darts it in and out of me until I’m almost ready to come. I feel him suck on my clit and lap up my juices until I come again. He smiles, knowing he did it. We fall asleep entangled. 

The alarm clock goes off way too early and it’s still dark. I rouse slowly, taking care to not wake Steve. He’s sleeping peacefully. He’s so handsome. I’m so glad I got to be with him. I get up, dress, scribble a note, and dash out the door to my awaiting Uber. I want out of there as quickly as possible so he won’t wake up and try to talk me into staying. I have to go. I’m married. I have a life to live. But, Steven Kane, you have my heart.