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She had the “I just got my brains fucked out look on her face.”  I then looked at her body.  Her dark nipples were still erect and swollen from arousal; her chest rose and fell rapidly as she panted for air.  I pulled out of her and she made a grunting sound and then I looked further down at her pussy before she modestly took over and she covered herself.

Her pussy and inner thighs were slick and wet from more than sweat.  I could see my thick cum already leaking out of her as it ran down her taint and butt crack.  Damn, the sight of her was so sexy.

Just as I suspected she would, Mrs. Jennings’s hand moved between her legs to cover herself and she winced when her fingers came in contact with my cum and her sex fluids but she did not say anything or tell me not to look at her like I was.  I grinned and moved from between her legs and lay on the bed on my back.  The older woman immediately rolled to her side, placed her head on my chest, and ran her hands over my muscular chest and stomach.  I put my arm around her shoulder as she reached down and pulled the sheets over our bodies; covering herself to her shoulders and my body just above my stomach.

“Damn, that’s some good pussy, Mrs. Jennings.”  Yes, I was purposely teasing her.

Mrs. Jennings pinched my side and lifted her head and looked at me, “You don’t have to be so crude all the time.”  She then giggled softly, “I think you can start using my first name now.”

I chuckled, “I like calling you Mrs. Jennings.”  I kissed the top of her head, “I didn’t hear you complain about my crudeness when I was fucking you.”

Mrs. Jennings laid her head back on my chest, “God you are impossible, baby.”

“I need to go clean up.” My teacher said, “I must look like a mess.”

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She started to move and get out of the bed and she suddenly cried out in pain, and her body went tight and she grabbed the back of her upper right leg.   From all my experience with physical exertion and playing football I knew she had gotten muscle a cramp from having her legs pushed up to her head when I was fucking her.

I sat up and moved down to the foot of the bed, grabbed her foot, pulled her leg straight, and lifted it to work out the cramp.  “Just let me stretch it.  It’s just a muscle cramp.”

“Ouch. It’s your fault,” she whined out, “bending me up like a pretzel.  I thought I was in better shape.  I kept asking you to stop.  Don’t ever do that again.”

I laughed as I massaged her muscle but did not say anything.  I think we both knew I was going to fuck her like that again and we both knew she received a great deal of pleasure from getting fucked like that.  As I massaged her cramp I got another nice view of her pussy and my cock stirred to life once again and became semi-erect, and I thought about fucking her but I decided to let her rest a moment.

“You need some fluids.  I have water or Gatorade, orange-flavored, or my mom has Tab.”  Yes, it was the eighties and Tab was popular.

“Water would be very nice, thank you.”

I got out of bed and Mrs. Jennings pulled the sheets back over her body and watched me walk naked out of the bedroom.  Unlike her, I was not modest about my body.  I was arrogantly proud of my body and enjoyed her looking at me naked.  I got Mrs. Jennings a warm washcloth and two bottles of water out of the refrigerator and went back into my bedroom.  Mrs. Jennings was sitting up in the bed with the sheets pulled up to cover her breasts as she watched me walk back into the room.

“God you are so beautiful, Patrick,” she said in a husky whisper, cleared her throat, and took the bottle of water out of my hand.

She took a long pull on the water bottle, made several audible gulps as she swallowed, and handed the bottle back to me.  I placed our water on the nightstand, handed her the cloth so she could wipe her face, and got back in the bed.  Mrs. Jennings lifted the sheets for me to lay next to her naked.  Once back in bed, she once again laid her head on my chest and once again ran her hand over my upper body and I put my arm around her shoulder as I sat up in the bed.

“I thought you were going to clean up?”  I asked.

Mrs. Jennings blushed, “I, I was too sore to move.”

“Did you get another cramp?”

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She sighed and kissed my chest and then started to talk.  I never thought Mrs. Jennings would be such a talker.  She was a great teacher and all the students liked her but unlike some of the other teachers, Mrs. Jennings was very personal and never took time out of her class to talk about herself.  Our conversation, with her doing most of the talking, was very intimate and personal.  She talked about growing up in a very strict Pentecostal household in North Carolina.  She told me about her high school days, and how she wanted to be a cheerleader but her parents would not let her.  They considered it sinful.  How she was not allowed to date and other personal details about her life.

Mrs. Jennings told me how she went to Le Moyne-Owen College in Memphis Tennessee.  An all-black college supported by the Evangelical Protestant Religion.  From how she described growing up and where she went to college I could understand more how she remained a virgin until she got married and why she was naïve about a lot of sexual things.  She did not mention her husband or how they met, but I knew the story when Mr. Jennings taught our lame sex education class.  She did not want to talk about her husband when in bed with another man, a much younger teenager, and I knew that while she enjoyed me fucking her she felt guilty.

She did talk about how difficult it was to be married to a white man.  Her parents were not fond of the idea at first and refused to speak to her, but eventually came around and are now like Mr. Jennings.  His mother is still not happy with her son marrying a black woman.  She told me of the other difficulties I did not even think about.