Head of the Class

by Cyndi Weatherhead

  MICHAEL looked down at Caja’s spent body. With her golden hair all tousled, her lips swollen and ruddy from his kisses and her skirt hiked up to her waist, she looked like a woman who’d been thoroughly fucked. He smiled down at her, appreciating the way she threw herself wholeheartedly into lovemaking. He wondered if she had any idea how much that turned him on. He took a deep breath, inhaling the spicy scent that emanated from her body, feeling the immediate impact as his erection got even harder. He rose from the floor , pulling his shirt over his head in one movement. His hands went immediately to the fastening to his trousers, treating Caja to an impromptu strip tease. From the way she rose up, resting her upper body on her elbows, he could tell she enjoyed the show.

  “Do you have any condoms?” he asked, remembering at the last moment that he’d failed to bring any.

  Caja scooted over to her night table to remove a strip of condoms. Michael accepted the foil packets gratefully, placing them beside her on the bed. Then quickly doffed the rest of his clothes. Caja did the same, and he paused for a moment taking in the beautiful femininity of the sleek muscles under her velvety skin. Her small conical shaped breasts were topped by exquisitely tiny raspberry-hued nipples. Against her peaches and cream complexion they stood out out like succulent fruit. He couldn’t resist lowering his head and taking that tiny bit of daintiness between his teeth, laving it with his tongue. Caja groaned softly in response, and reached down to stroke her hand up and down his cock. He gritted his teeth at the sensations that ripped through his body at her delicate touch. He could feel the pre-cum dripping out the tip, and knowing his own climax was only seconds away , gritted his teeth and reached for one of the condoms.

  Michael sheathed himself quickly under Caja’s watchful gaze, then moved to stand between her parted legs. He raised them until they curled over his biceps, then thrust himself balls deep into her sopping wet pussy. He paused for a long moment, shudders ripping through his body in a torrent of sensation. For a moment he feared he’d come immediately, he just barely managed to hold back. The feel of her pussy grasping his thick penis pulled a groan right from the center of his being. He had wanted to look down at her t o see her expression when he’d first entered her, but opening his eyes, even that simple movement, proved impossible. He had to focus every molecule of his willpower on not exploding right along with his orgasm.

  He slowly withdrew, then sank in again. He couldn’t believe it felt even better this time. Michael thrust again, and again, his body taking over from his mind. He grabbed her hips, pulling her body even closer to his own, and could hear the pants and gasps of her own pleasure. He slipped his fingers between their bodies and began strumming her clit in time to his thrusts. Michael knew he would die if he didn’t come soon, and his hips moved even more forcefully. His strokes on her body became almost frantic as he rasped, “Come on baby, give it to me. You know you want to come.”

  Then, just when he knew he couldn’t hold back one more second, Caja cried out against his throat, her pussy clamping down on his cock as though it would never let go. Michael’s orgasm slammed into him violently, and he grabbed Caja’s hips in a crushing embrace, crying out in ecstasy.

  CHAPTER

  3

  CAJA lay sprawled on the bed, totally incapable of further movement, amazed that Michael actually had the strength to roll off her. The aftermath of their fevered lovemaking still vibrated through her body in waves of bliss. When Michael inquired about the bathroom she didn’t even open her eyes, she just nodded her head to guide him in the right direction. She continued relaxing in connubial bliss as she heard the toilet flush and water running in the sink. Moments later Michael shattered the rose-hued mood with a yell. “Jesus effing Christ. What the hell?”

  Caja didn’t raise her head from the mattress. She had a pretty good idea as to what had set Michael off. In their haste to get horizontal she’d forgotten what her bedroom looked like.

  “Are you planning to give Strawberry Shortcake her room back anytime soon?” Michael asked , his voice trembling with suppressed laughter.

  Caja smiled as she recalled yet another reason she had never brought a man back to her home. Even she had to concede that her bedroom looked like the aftermath of an industrial accident at a Valentine candy factory. The walls were painted a soft shade of pink and festooned with a confection of white lace and green satin accents. She had decorated it in a fit of impulsive rebellion against the sweaty environment where she spent most of her time. Her crazy work schedule had kept her from rectifying the mistake immediately, and now it had grown on her. She had come to enjoy coming home to a bit of fluff––as long as no one else knew about it. It, and her sinfully expensive underwear were her only true indulgences; otherwise she was practical to the core. “Hey, can’t a girl have a few ribbons and bows without people getting stupid about it?” she asked.

  Michael touched one of the lace panels that hung from her canopy bed, then looked at her. “Yeah, but you’re so...” he trailed off.

  “So what?” Caja snapped, jackknifing into a sitting position on the bed. “Unfeminine?” Why did this bother her so much? He certainly wasn’t the first man to comment on her clear lack of femininity.

  Michael joined her on the bed. “Definitely not,” he murmured, wrapping both his arms around her, “You are without a doubt the most feminine woman I’ve ever met.”

  “Yeah , right,” Caja snorted, unable to resist cuddling against him nonetheless. “If you hang out in prisons. No need to lie. You already got some, and there’s at least a 90% chance that you’ll get some more , ” s he derided, wondering why a man of his proportions didn’t look absolutely ridiculous surrounded by roses and other assorted frippery. Instead, for some perverse reason, the room seemed to accentuate his masculinity. Face it girl, this boy would look hot in stilettos and a feather boa.

  “I don’t lie, Caja, not even to get pussy as good as yours.” He lay her back on the bed, then stroked his palms over her sleekly muscled legs. “Your legs had me salivating all night. It never occurred to me that you’d wear a skirt on our date. I know you don’t wear them all the time or you’d have to be hosing men down everywhere you went.” The hand moved up to her hip. “This,” he bent down to nip her waist, “is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. The curve of your hips is a work of art. I can’t take my eyes off it. I’m hypnotized every time I watch you walk.” He leaned forward, taking one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking on it strongly.

  “I know you’re not going to call those beautiful, I barely have any breasts at all,” she finished her statement with a sigh, as he moved between her parted legs while stroking her clitoris with his other hand.

  “ They’re more than enough for me. I don’t ever want to hear you talk about how unfeminine you are again.” He flipped her over, raising her hips from the bed. “And you’re incredibly flexible,” he continued tracing the arch of her back.

  “I was a beam specialist. I have a flex move named after me. I bring my feet over my head while I’m stretched out on the beam,” she said with a gasp as he took a nip out of one of her upturned butt cheeks.

  “I don’t know if my heart is up to watching you demonstrate it, but I definitely want to see it.” He continued his journey down her body. “And this ass, Jesus, I would’ve gotten fired on the spot if anyone knew what I was thinking when I first saw you today. Those pants you were wearing should be illegal.”

  Caja giggled, breathlessly anticipating his next move. “They’re just sweats, Michael. There’s nothing special about them.”

  “Maybe that’s true for other women, but on this ass, it’s a whole different story.” He spread her legs slightly stroking the bulbous head of his cock between her pussy lips.

  Caja gasped in pleasure at the pressure being applied to the already highly sensitized area.

  “Am I hurting you? I didn’t think to ask.” Michael moved back.

  Caja pushed her hips backwards, eagerly seeking the hard length o
f his penis. “Michael, if I didn’t want it, I would’ve said so.”

  Michael paused for a moment to slip on one of the condoms that still lay beside her on the bed, then resumed the gentle strokes. Each time he slid the velvet head against her incredibly sensitive clitoris Caja’s pleasure inched a notch higher. With every pass, he increased the pressure incrementally, then smacked a large palm across her heaving backside, leaving her gasping and writhing in anticipation of his next move. He continued this way for long moments, each slap of his hand setting off a new mini explosion of sensation through her throbbing clitoris. He grasped her narrow waist to stop her from pushing back on his hard length while he continued to tease her with barely perceptible movements.

  When she thought she couldn’t take it another second , he raised her hips off the bed penetrating her with a suddenness that forced a tremulous cry from her throat. He fitted his body tightly over her back, as he ground his pelvis against her. In this position , Caja felt totally dominated by Michael. His massive arms and legs enveloped her wholly, holding her in place. Forced into immobility, she could focus on nothing but the pleasure he was giving her. His masculine scent enveloped her, heightening her arousal, and she turned her head, her open mouth seeking to engage his in a carnal kiss. He continued grinding against her, his low-hanging balls applying pressure to her throbbing clitoris. Her ears echoed with his groans of pleasure as he pulled her even more tightly against his body. She knew he was holding back his orgasm until she came. Feeling the deep growls rumbling through his chest as he held back his release triggered her own orgasm and even as she felt it exploding through her body, Michael roared aloud in response to his as well.

  * * * * *

  Caja lay supine on the bed, once again barely able to open her eyes. She stared at Michael who’d collapsed beside her. “You absolutely cannot do that to me again. I will most definitely die.”

  Michael managed his crooked grin. “Glad to be of service , ma’am.”

  With tremendous effort she rolled onto her side facing him. She reached out a hand to trace small apple tattooed to his lower flank.

  “An apple for the teacher?”

  “Something like that. I was very drunk,” he said placing his hand over hers.

  “Well, if that was a case you must have been comatose when you got those.” She said gesturing toward the large tribal motif shark that decorated his right bicep and curved up to his shoulder.

  “Nope, I was stone sober and yes, it hurt like hell.” Then he reached behind him and grabbed one of her frilly throw pillows, tossing it onto the chaise lounge. He turned his head slightly, then grabbed another pillow and did the same. “Caja, do you actually sleep in this damned bed?” he asked gesturing toward the pillows, which occupied fully a third of the surface. He tossed another pillow, then finally in frustration began dropping them on the floor.

  “Of course I do. I like pillows, they’re pretty.” She frowned. “And don’t throw them on the floor. They cost a mint.”

  Michael rolled his eyes at her, but following her directions, placed the remaining pillows on the chaise. “Well this bed isn’t big enough for a man my size and a whole flock of pillows.”

  “You’ve got a point there, but they aren’t meant to be slept on. They just make the bed look nice.”

  Michael opened his mouth to reply, then they both laughed as their stomachs growled loudly. “I knew we’d regret leaving that delectable meal behind. We didn’t even think to get doggie bags.” He stroked one hand over her backside, then raised his brows considering. “Then again...”

  Caja moved away from his questing hands as quickly as her stupefied body would allow. “Oh no, not again. I’ve got to eat first.”

  The stomach growling grew even louder, causing them to laugh again at the silliness of the moment. Michael sat up on the edge of the bed, bending down to retrieve his clothing. Caja walked over to the closet and slipped into a bathrobe before going into the bathroom.

  Michael dressed, slipping on his pants and t-shirt, but leaving off the dress shirt and tie.

  “So, do you have any food?” he asked when Caja returned from the bathroom. He glanced down at his watch. “It ’ s after midnight, a little late to have anything delivered.”

  “Yeah, I actually went to the grocery store this week. I can probably whip up an omelet or something.” She retrieved a fresh pair of underwear, some gym shorts and a t-shirt from her chest of drawers before briefly returning to the bathroom to dress.

  “That sounds good,” Michael said when she returned. “What do you want to me to do?” he asked as he padded after her into the small kitchen.

  Caja pulled cheese, Canadian bacon and a bell pepper out of the refrigerator, placing them on the counter before retrieving a carton of eggs as well. “Why don’t you chop up the filling, while I get the eggs ready?” Michael nodded as she directed him toward a narrow counter equipped with a cutting board and a knife rack. She watched him for a moment to ensure he wouldn’t remove a digit or two, then began cracking eggs into a bowl. After giving her super-sized dining companion a considering look, she added two more eggs to the six she’d already whisked.

  “You know, I don’t usually use whole eggs. But you don’t look like an egg-white omelet kind of guy to me.”

  “No. I don’t have to worry about my weight or anything.” Michael finished dicing up the filling for the omelet, stacking it up in neat little piles on the cutting board. “I like to work out and with all the coaching I do...”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask what you coach. Football?” Caja guessed as she poured some milk into the eggs. After whisking briskly she poured the mixture into a large non-stick skillet.

  Michael turned to face Caja, leaning against the counter. “I coach Pop Warner football and Little League. It keeps me busy, and I like coaching.”

  Caja watched the eggs in the skillet, then reached for the filling Michael had prepared. She finished the omelet by adding the fixings, then deftly folded it with a quick flick of her wrist. In no time at all she turned the large omelet out onto a plate. After cutting it in half she placed both plates on the small kitchen table along with silverware and napkins, then turned back to the refrigerator. She rummaged inside for a moment.

  “I think I left a split of champagne in here. Martinis are my beverage of choice, but even I can’t handle them at this hour.” She triumphantly pulled the bottle out of the refrigerator. Then grabbed two glasses out of the cupboard. “Hope you don’t mind if we don’t bother with proper glassware. Washing stems is such a pain.”

  Michael walked over to the table. Caja giggled as he pulled out her chair for her as if they were still at one of the finest restaurants in the city. He certainly had better manners than her ex-fiancée. Then again, men raised by wildebeests had better manners than Shoe Boy. Caja shook her head. What on earth had she been thinking? Fuck buddies were the way to go.

  She smiled at Michael as he sat down across from her at the small table. Their empty stomachs reminded them of their hunger and they tucked into their impromptu meal enthusiastically. They leaned towards one another in animated conversation as they ate. She laughed helplessly as he gave her a rundown of what had happened in his classroom after she left that morning.

  “Mista Flower, Mista Flower, you like that pretty lady?” He lisped in a dead-on impersonation of the precocious redhead who sat in the front row. Caja had noted that the kids called him “Mister Flower.” Apparently Faletolu was too much of a linguistic roller coaster for their undeveloped tongues.

  “Yes Marley,” he replied in his own voice, “She was very nice.”

  “I’ll bet you wanted to kiss her.” The little tyke insisted.

  “No, No, he didn’t. Kissing’s gross,” he piped up in the voice of one of the energetic boys in the back row.

  “I saw my mommy kissing the mailman once,” Michael confessed in yet another young voice.

  “I kissed my dog this morning,” the non sequitur came in a shy voic
e that perfectly matched a pretty little girl who sat in the third row.

  By the time he finished the dialogue Caja was bent over double gasping for breath through spasms of laughter. “How on earth do you listen to that every day without falling out on the floor laughing?”

  Michael joined her. “It’s not easy, believe me. That’s the great thing about being a teacher; their viewpoint is hysterically funny. Looking at the world through their eyes is incredible. Every time I get a new class it’s like seeing everything for the first time. It’s just so new...” He gave her a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I do tend to go on about it.”

  “No, I think its great. So many people are absolutely miserable in their jobs, it’s refreshing to meet someone who loves his so much. How did you handle that particular situation?”

  “Oh, it was a textbook case, and I handled it as a well-trained teacher should.” He steepled his fingers and continued in a professorial manner. “I employed the time-honored teaching mechanism known as redirection.” At Caja’s raised brows he was forced to confess, “Okay, I bribed them with ice cream. With sufficient amounts of chocolate fudge I could have made them forget an appearance by Elmo.”

  Caja wondered if the champagne at that late hour alleviated any discomfort she might have felt with the situation. It seemed to lend a celebratory air to the occasion and dispelled any lingering discomfort there might have been between them after sex with a virtual stranger. It certainly didn’t fit in with her usual modus operandi. At least one of her previous lovers had compared her to a black widow spider, fearing that she’d eat him after the sex was over. What was that old joke? In a perfect world a woman would turn into a hoagie after sex. Caja could empathize, as she had often wished that a man would turn into a bar of luscious chocolate, a baked potato or a really good martini after she finished with him.

  Having a man in her home hadn’t proven to be the disaster she’d anticipated. Of course, she realized that the situation was a bit unusual; Michael was the rare guy that she didn’t want to get away from as quickly as possible. It was strange, but her comfort level with him was almost instantaneous. She had to assume that hearing so much about him from Laila had given her a level of familiarity she’d never experienced before. He would make an excellent fuck buddy. Someone to hook up with when the need arose and she had time to attend to it. And she certainly didn’t have to worry about him becoming attached. Michael had good guy written all over him. Guys like that didn’t get serious about women who slept with them on the first date. Hypocritical to be sure, but that’s the way the game was played. Determined not to let it bother her, she gave Michael another brilliant smile. She would enjoy him for as long as it lasted, then say goodbye without a single regret.