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One on One |
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By Nigel McParr
Stella Parsons loved hockey. She went to every University home game to watch the team, but mostly she came to watch Brian. She loved his cat-like moves and speed, his violent checking. When he threw a glance up into the stands, she imagined he was looking for her. She knew better. Even though she had him in her Calculus class, he didn’t know she existed. Brian Hasley had no clue but why would he? He was a 22-year-old senior, tall, broad shouldered, and captain of the hockey team. NHL scouts said he had potential. He had wavy dark hair, a passable intellect, and was super cute. He was also president of his fraternity. A busy boy and every girl on campus wanted him. On the other hand, she was 44, prim and reserved, an associate professor of mathematics. She had a small waist, embarrassingly generous breasts, well-padded hips, and a comfortable ass. She kept her long auburn hair in a French twist. It shone like burnished copper in bright sunlight. Large green eyes peered through frameless grandmotherly glasses. On class days, she wore sensible heels, sturdy bras and girdles, and pants or skirt suits. She rarely wore makeup, jeans, or shorts. She was still single and still a virgin.
After hockey practice, the team gathered at the Pub, a venerable campus fixture where the super jocks hung out. “It’s your last season, Brian. Who you gonna do this year? You know, like one last hurrah.” Brian Hasley sipped his beer as he tipped back his chair. He looked around the bar then back at his teammates. “Math class…Miss Stella Parsons,” he said softly. They looked at him incredulously. No one laughed. “Are you serious, man?” “She’s old enough to be your mom.” “Yeah, yeah, I know all that. But there is something about her. She’s raw and juicy, a pussy challenge. Besides, she’s so goddamn sexy! I am going to sleep with her, fuck her ass, and then her brains.” “Good luck on that one, pardner.” “Talk about climbing Everest.” “It’s a long way down if you fall off her.” “Can’t fuckin’ be done, man.” “Hey, you bozos, I’m on a breakaway, coming in on the goal tender…Just me and her…classic one-on-one. Who’s going to deke first? Me or her? Anyone care to bet on the outcome?”
The alarm went off at six. Stella got out of bed and padded into the shower. The steamy hot spray needling her skin brought her back to life. She lifted her heavy breasts to the spray; let the stinging stream play over her nipples. She lathered up her sex and let her fingers linger to tease it awake. It occurred to her she ought to buy a vibrator and as usual, she squelched the thought. That was kid stuff, way too embarrassing for a woman her age. As she toweled herself dry, she took a quick look in the mirror. Her boobs were huge, way too big, damn near to her waist, and they refused to get any smaller no matter what diet she tried. Her hips and butt were not much better. I look bovine…like one of Dad’s brood cows. At least a bra helps to hide the gross outlines of my nipples. She sighed in resignation as she saddled herself into a plain cotton bra, pulled on panty hose, and wiggled a stretchy girdle over the breadth of her hips. Before putting on a slip and a navy suit and heels, she brushed out her damp hair and coiled it into a neat bun. She polished her glasses, checked herself one last time, and departed for the University, perfectly coiffed, prim, and proper.
Brian got to class early that day. He grabbed a front row seat and buried his nose in his laptop until she arrived. The commitment he’d made to his team mates to bring Miss Parsons down was keeping his cock half-hard. He’d been thinking of this for some time. Now that it was an open challenge, he couldn’t wait to get a stick in his hands and take it down the ice. He watched her come into the classroom. No matter how he stared, she would not return his look. He imagined running his fingertips over the taut bodice of her suit, teasing the backs of her fulsome calves, running his hand higher under her skirt until he met Miss Pussy. Damn, she had great hips and a big ass that begged to be fucked. At the thought of taking her from behind and butt fucking all that gorgeous bottom flesh, he nearly came in his jeans. After class he waited impatiently for the goddamn gonzos and geeks to get through their ritual bullshit fawning and brown nosing and get the hell out the classroom. When the classroom was finally empty, he rose from his desk and sidled up to Stella. He smiled and asked her if she could help him with a problem he was having. She looked at him curiously. She knew he wasn’t that great at math but at the same time he could see her antennae perking up. He’d have to tread carefully with this brainiac. There were a lot of bets not to mention his reputation riding on the outcome. He’d never been this close. Her proximity, her scent, the melon-like shape of her bosom were overpowering. She smelled fresh and clean, like sliced fruit or Irish Spring or some other bath soap. She agreed to meet with him in her office. He had to play dumb as they went through a problem. He hoped to hell she wouldn’t see through him when he told her he needed additional tutoring and would she help him. The fraternity was a nut house he said. There was no way he could study or get any help there. She was such a great teacher. He’d much prefer to have her tutoring him one on one. Could they possibly meet in her home? Stella was perplexed. None of her students had ever asked her for this kind of personal help. All of a sudden, she was the focus of her favorite student’s attention. A part of her screamed, just do it! For God’s sake, she secretly worshipped him. He was drop-dead cute, an Adonis with a tight ass and a rock maple physique. Oh, and did she remember he was also the captain of a NCAA hockey team and on his way to the NHL. She could sense his faux flattery, but she loved it anyway. He was actually paying attention to her. That was good enough. In the back of her mind, she suspected something, but she buried her concerns. The first tutoring session at her home led to several more. He was no longer a distant icon. He was real and she was growing way more than fond of him. She could see now he really didn’t need her help, but she continued. She looked forward to their sessions. He was glib and quick, and had those wonderful eyes. It was a new experience, him seemingly worshipping her and her intellect. She did not want to let go of that. Eventually, they talked less about calculus and more about everything else. She gathered her courage and asked him out to dinner. She decided to wear new jeans to show off her butt and a top with a low neckline Brian spent his time at dinner glimpsing her huge tits, imagining how they would feel. Seeing her in jeans had blown him away. Her ass was fantastic. She was making him hard and bold as hell. Over drinks, she asked him if he would he like to come back to her place for a nightcap. Break away at the red line! Here I come. She served wine. They relaxed on her sofa in front of a fire. They talked about school, where he was headed after graduation. She had never felt so relaxed and in the mood to do something very naughty. She looked into his eyes and smiled. He took her hand. “You’re a lovely woman, Stella Parsons.” She blushed as he leaned to her and kissed her. “I’ve never been kissed like that. Please, do it again.” As they embraced, his hand cupped her bra. She shuddered and pushed him away. “I’m sorry, Brian, but I can’t,” she said, feeling awful, wondering if this was going to end everything. “Why not?” he asked. We are adults…both of us.” “Please, Brian, don’t me feel worse than I do. Just go. I’m truly sorry. I didn’t mean to lead you on, make you think you could…well, I think you know what I mean.” Next day in class, she would not look at him. Brian was pissed. The nerve of her, leading him on as if he was some kind of schoolboy, then turning him off and throwing him out of her house.
Weeks passed. He called her, sent her e-mails. Asked her to meet with him, perhaps go to dinner. She ignored him. Finally, he stopped trying. Then, one day after class, she unexpectedly stopped him as he was leaving her classroom. “I’d like to take you up on your offer. Will you join me for coffee?” she asked. Brian looked at her. Was she serious? “I called my sister. She’s married with a couple of kids. I told her about you. She thinks I’m nuts. She suggested I lighten up.” She laughed nervously. “Look, Brian, let’s face the facts. I am twice your age, old enough to be your-” He held up his hand. “Don’t say it, Stella. We were a number and you know it. What has our relationship got to do with the price of tea in China or anything else?” I like you…I like you an awful a lot.” He took her hand in his and led her into the corridor. So, Lady Stella, where are you taking me for coffee?”
“I’ll be honest, Brian. Every night, I lay in bed thinking about you. My orderly uninteresting life is in a shambles. I feel like I’m out of control. I’m confused and conflicted. I’ve always thought of myself as an ugly duckling, doomed to be an old maid. I simply cannot understand what a gorgeous hunk like you sees in me. I wish it were true, but I just cannot make myself believe it. You could have any girl on this campus. Why me? You are making me doubt my sanity. I’ve set standards to protect myself. You called, e-mailed, invited me to dinner, and what did I do? I ignored you.” “Why did you ignore me?” he asked softly. “Mostly out of fear, fear of exposing myself, fear of making a complete mess of things and our relationship. Brian, maybe you already know this, but I am still a virgin. The thought of losing my virginity scares the crap out of me. I’m afraid I’d do something stupid right in the middle of it. Yes, I know. My sister keeps asking me what do I have to lose…besides my precious virginity? The answer of course is I have everything to gain.” Her words shot a palpable sense of guilt through him but he didn’t change course.
A few days later, Stella called him. “I’m ready to go to dinner with you if that invitation is still good. Would you consider coming back to my home afterwards?” Brian smiled and stuffed his reluctance. Hey, he was the captain. He had to take one for the team. I’m headed for the net.
Stella went shopping that evening. Seeing how nervous she was, the sales girl spent extra time with her to help her find a nice low cut bra big enough to fit her and show off her maxed out cleavage. When the girl suggested she also look at thongs, Stella laughed nervously and told the girl she wasn’t quite ready yet for that. She did choose a wisp of a garter belt, sheer panties, a pale lavender silk blouse, and a tailored black skirt. In the dressing room, she was stunned when she tried on the underwear and then the blouse and skirt. A complete stranger was staring back at her, an alien persona. Without any makeup, she thought her face looked pale. She had never noticed that before. She could see every detail of her bra and her welling cleavage through the diaphanous fabric of her blouse. Even without a girdle, her skirt fit perfectly over her hips and backside. The sales girl had asked her why she even bothered to wear a girdle. She sure didn’t need it. The unsolicited opinion impressed her. She had no idea she could feel and look this good without being wrapped in elastic. She asked the clerk about a pair of sensible pumps to go with the new outfit. The girl had to stifle a smile before she encouraged her to look at stiletto heels. From Shoes, she went over to Cosmetics where another girl helped her select the right shades of mascara, eye shadow, and lip-gloss. She showed Stella how to apply it.
On the following Friday evening, Stella was in her bedroom, nervously coping with her emerging new identity. Dressed in her new underwear, skirt, and blouse, she could not deny she was beginning to feel like she looked, a lioness, all tawny and chic. She thought about letting her hair down, but then nixed the idea. She brushed it until the coppery highlights shimmered in the pale light, then pulled her hair back and pinned it into a plump chignon. She strapped on her 4-inch heels then checked herself in the mirror. One thing is for certain. I do not look like a professorial old maid. I may still be one, but I sure as hell don’t look it. A half hour later, Brian picked her up. When he saw her in the doorway, he paused at the vision before him. He caught himself wishing he had a camera. He scarcely knew what to say. Stella grinned and broke the silence. “Do you like the new me,” she asked, pirouetting. “That would an understatement, Stella. You are one pretty woman!”
He took her downtown to Gibson’s. They had the best steaks in the city and tonight he needed red meat. He couldn’t afford it, but what the hell; it was worth every penny just to score. As it turned out, he didn’t have to worry about over-maxing his credit card. Stella insisted she pay for dinner. They went back to her home for drinks. As she got out of his car, he reached into the back seat and grabbed a brown paper bag. “Wait until you tasted this, Stella. It’s Courvoisier, very very old French cognac. My father gave it to me. It was Napoleon Bonaparte’s favorite drink.” “Brian, how nice of you.” “It’s like drinking smoke, goes down real easy.” Stella laughed like a 15 year old. Here she was with the beginnings of a buzz, girdle-free for the first time in years, and cozying up to a boy half her age. “What a night this has been,” she murmured. “Great steaks, great companionship…I feel so…exotic.” She took Brian’s hand in hers. Come on, dude. We have some drinking to do.”
They sat in front of the flickering fireplace. It wasn’t long before the fire and the Courvoisier began to weave its spell. Stella knew she was growing tipsy and she didn’t care. Tonight she was a she-lion; it was her night to growl. They didn’t say much. As if they spoke, they would shatter the erotic aura enveloping them. Brian was nibbling at her ear. He whispered, “How beautiful you are, the perfect Stella.” She giggled and pushed him away. “No, I’m serious. You are exactly what I’ve been looking for.” “You just want to get into my panties.” “Um…you got that right, but that’s not all. I love your brains, your looks,” “Stop it, Brian. You’re making me weaken.” “Purely intentional. I hope to hell you’re not wearing that armored underwear you wear to class. It makes me want to kill myself.” Still blushing, she giggled when he kissed her on her mouth. He slipped his tongue between her lips. She protested but meekly when he pulled the wooden pin from her hair and arranged it in cascading waves over her shoulders. “Omigod,” he said softly, placing his hand on her bra and gently squeezing the cushiony resilience of her breasts. He noticed she did not push him away. She laughed nervously as he unbuttoned her blouse and unhooked her bra. His hands were on fire, igniting her passion, burning through her resolve. She looked into his eyes as her great breasts plumped into her lap. She was on fire, blushing crimson, reveling in her newfound state. She pressed him into her breasts and nipples. His suckling shot spikey shivers through her, drove her crazy. He actually wanted, needed her. She had never experienced anything like this. She wished it could last forever. His hand slid under her skirt, between her thighs, teasing, making her desperate. He moved higher. She was wet with excitement. He slid off the couch onto his knees. Without hesitating, she spread her legs and let him disappear beneath her skirt. He came at her with a vengeance. His youth passion surprised and delighted her. He ate through her panties while she screamed as waves of ecstasy engulfed her. Then suddenly, not knowing why, but knowing she had to, she pushed him away. He gave her a bewildered look. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Did I-” Stella was in tears, shuddering with the letdown. “No, Brian it isn’t you…It’s just…It’s just enough for our first night.” He was limp between his legs as he reluctantly got to his feet. She didn’t move as he bent to kiss her cheek. “Please…call me,” he said and left.
A week passed while she fought with herself. She wanted him desperately. Wanted him to like her for who she was. However, was she doing the right thing for him and for her? He was so young and he was her student. She was faculty. Where did that lead? Would she get in trouble with the University? She knew it was purely physical; she wanted his adulation and his cock. He made her feel good. She wanted him inside her. Dammit, she wanted him big time. Finally, she could not help herself. She called him. He came over that night.
When he came to the door, her eyes were wet. She told him she felt like their roles had reversed. He was the teacher. She was the student. She was feeling as submissive as a kitten and he could sense it. He spoke softly, reminding her of her father. “My mom used to spank me when I lied or acted out. I’m thinking maybe you need some of that. That big ass of yours needs attention.” He watched and waited while Stella turned scarlet and shrunk into herself. “Are you really going to spank me?” she asked in a small voice tinged with incredibility. “You got it, Stella.” “All right, if that’s what you feel you should do … I won’t stop you…You are in control…” Brian gave her the hint of a smile. “Upstairs, girl. March!” As he followed her up the stairs, he could not believe the motions of her denim-clad ass. She had actually caved. I’m all alone now, crossing the blue line. Up in her bedroom, she obeyed without question as he told her to take down her jeans and panties. The sight of her plain white cotton panties surprised and excited him. She was even more wholesome and innocent than he’d imagined. He wanted to forego the foreplay, just fuck the bejesus out of her, but he forced himself wait. She was too sweet, too tender, and innocent to just throw on the bed. She deserved a long gradual buildup. He took one of her pillows then led her to the foot of the bed. She was shaking now, moaning softly, as he laid the pillow on the footboard. “This is how my mom did it,” he said. She was shuddering and mewing, but she didn’t resist as he lowered her over the foot of the bed and arranged her thighs on the pillow. When he had her positioned with her plump buttocks poised and the folds of her gleaming pussy peeping from between her thighs, he had to fight off the urge to open the fly of his jeans. Her hands were clutched at her mouth and she was crying softly as he slid his belt from his jeans. He looped it in his hand. “You know you you’ve wanted this, Stella. How fortunate I am to be the one to do it.” He landed the belt with a noisy smack, causing her to cry out. He strapped her like his mother had strapped him. Carefully, with long pauses for effect. He applied the belt just hard enough to sting. It was not his intent to punish her. He simply wanted to subdue and excite her, make her his. He could sense her rising ardor; the belt was doing its job.
They lay together later with his face buried in her bra and her holding his butt, pressing his hardened cock between her thighs. She was weeping, tears of joy and relief. She’d wanted this forever and now it was happening, a symphony with Brain at the podium. She completely trusted him. He’d led her through the prelude, which she had never expected…like he actually strapped me! Now, he was in the first movement. She had no desire to rush the music. The fact he was beside her was enough. She vowed to savor every second of her virginal loss. He must lead, she thought. He was sucking her nipples through her bra and every suckle excited and hurt her. “You don’t have to nurse through my bra, silly. Unfasten it,” she whispered. His fingers under her bra were warm and strong. As her breasts fell free, he tore away the bra and buried his face in the deep valley of her bosom. He was moaning, squeezing and licking her breasts, fondling her sore nipples until she wanted to scream, fuck me! Nevertheless, she did not say anything. She just held onto him, let him greedily play and suckle. Later, he lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “Sixty-nine,” he whispered easing himself away from her.
Brian’s cock completely filled her mouth. She was proud of it and nervous as hell. Am I really doing this? She thought of when she was 18 and endured her girlfriends crowing about oral sex. She had tried not to listen. Now she understood why they had waxed gah-gah. Brian lay on top of her with his head stuffed between her thighs. He reminded her of a snuffling dog. His tongue and mouth engulfed her, eliciting shock waves of pleasure. She was oblivious to everything but Bryan, awash in her own sea of ecstasy, unaware of anything but his throbbing cock in her mouth and him devouring her. As she heightened and felt the onset of orgasm, she instinctively began to suck hard. She could feel him building, his cock thickening. It was a surreal experience. A part of her tried to analyze what she was doing until finally pure emotion took over. She sucked until he came like a freight train going sixty. Coming in on the goalie. Time to deke. He rolled off her and got off the bed. She looked up at him. “Brian, was it me?” He spoke gently, while he kissed her eyes, her mouth. “Don’t even think that, Stella. Of course, it wasn’t you. We will do it. I promise. But, I think it best we wait to allow what happened to sink in.” Resigned and confused, she whispered, “Whatever you say. That was the most delicious thing that ever happened to me.” “Me, too. In the meantime, will you please stop wearing those damn bras? I dare you to come into your classroom braless.” “Brian, I couldn’t! My students-” “Oh, yes, you could, Miss Parsons, and by God you will. A bustline like yours deserves it. They should be on display.”
On Monday morning, she came to class early wearing lipstick and eye shadow. Her hair was down, rippling over her shoulders. She wore heels, a tight fitting knee-length skirt absent a girdle, and a crisp cotton blouse. Her unsupported breasts gapped and filled out the lower front of her blouse. The incessant jiggling and her show of nipples heightened her nervousness. When the girls came into the classroom, their smiles helped. It was the first time her female students ever really acknowledged her much less gave her such warm looks and thumbs up. Did they know? When Brian saw her he nearly came in his jeans, but he kept his head and said nothing. His reassuring looks gave her a small measure of confidence, what she needed to get through that class. After class, a young stud approached her. He actually tried to put the make on her. She sharply rebuked him, saying he had better talk to Brian before he tried anything. That was enough to send the little man scurrying.
On Friday evening, she called him. “So, Brian, are we still abstaining? You’re making me feel like a horny nun.” He laughed. “There’s this off-campus bar and grill…good steaks…” When he picked her up, she was wearing pressed navy jeans, a pale sheer chiffon blouse, and no bra. She had tied her hair back in a sassy ponytail. Brian sucked in his breath when he saw her. “You are drop-dead frickin’ gorgeous,” he said, as he kissed her and copped a quick feel of her breasts. “I’m still getting used to the new me…jiggling boobs, my hair down, and lots of makeup.” “Never fear, Stella. You’ll get used to the adulation.” “So, center man, captain of the hockey team, is tonight the night?” she asked, silently hoping. A couple of quick moves, then I’m gonna shoot. The grill was crowded and noisy, filled with the Friday night crowd. He barely heard the buzz of his cell phone. It was a desperate call from the fraternity, a real problem with a couple of his frat brother ass holes. He looked desperately at her. “Stella, there was a fight at the frat house. The idiots hurt each other. I’m the frat president, I have to go. I’m really really sorry.” She was still watching him hurry out the door, when a hand touched her arm. Turning, she was surprised to see Carlisle Edwards, History Department Chair, standing beside her. His frameless glasses, thick wavy mane of salt and pepper hair, and trimmed mustache, lent him an air of muted confidence. Someone in her department said he played squash and tennis and always for keeps. She’d seen him heading into the gym in his whites. His appearance, the way he walked seemed to epitomize strength and masculinity. They knew each other, though not well. At faculty functions, she’d always felt like a mushroom around him. He smiled at her, showing his perfect white teeth. He must have seen Brian leave, but he acted as if Brian didn’t exist. “Stella, what a nice surprise. Can I buy you a drink?” She reluctantly agreed, acknowledging for the first time how handsome he really was. She could not deny she had lusted after him. “You have changed. I’ve been wondering when you would emerge from your cocoon.” “Carlisle, if you really mean that, it is so sweet. Do you know you are embarrassing the hell out of me?” “Strictly intentional, Stella. Come on, let’s get out of here.” He took her arm and eased her off the barstool. “I know a nice quiet place.”
He drove the Jaguar sedan like a mad man, double-clutching, speed shifting through the gears. After a quiet dinner, he took her to a secluded park high above the city sprawl and river that divided it. He slipped his arm around her and pulled her into him. He was not as broad in the shoulders as Brian, but he was a helluva lot more svelte and smarter, too…a real type A. “I’ve been watching you from afar, Stella; ever since my wife died. I’d love to see you again.” Stella began to understand that fate was finally happening to her. She felt herself blossoming as she spread her wings and was lofted into a sky brilliant with dazzling stars. His hand grazed her breasts. “Your place or mine?” she murmured. He began to laugh. “I guess your place. Mine is a disaster.” Feeling like a teen, she joined into his laughter. “Me, too. We…um… we could do it here…” He slipped a CD into the player, took her in his arms. A moment later, they were in the back seat accompanied by the Eagles,“Somebo-dy’s gon-na hurt some-one…” “Oh, Jesus, Carlisle,” she moaned as his cock slid into her. Poor beautiful boy Brian was fading fast. Before he completely disappeared and she lost her virginity, she reminded herself that boy had earned himself an A. He scores!
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