Blue Jeans Ch. 02

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Author’s note: While it’s not entirely necessary, reading the first part of Blue Jeans will help make sense of what follows here. All characters are eighteen years and older.



Friday was “free dress day” — no school uniform, just the uniform of peer pressured youth. Blue jeans. Jo’s decision to wear skin-tight Levis, however, had nothing to do with blending in with the crowd and everything to do with the previous day’s encounter.

Branxholm was just a small town with many of the students filtering in from numerous, even smaller surrounding communities. Buses disgorged clusters of rowdy youth in various states of expectation: friends and classes, love and conflict, all the predictable hopes and anxieties of teenagers. Jo’s general approach in the morning chaos was bag clasped to her chest, head down, and make for class, drawing as little attention to herself as possible. It wasn’t that she was unbearably shy, although that may have been the impression she gave; it was just that she simply couldn’t be bothered. So much of high school was girls bitching and bickering while boys were all machismo strutting. None of which interested her in the slightest. Rather, she enjoyed the mental challenge of studying and the secret pleasure of fantasising about her physics teacher.

Through the staffroom window Daffyd watched the school day begin to take shape. It should be like any other, if it weren’t for the uncomfortable fact that the second last lesson was physics with the senior class.

“What are the chances we’ll escape intact?” Daffyd started and turned to find the source of the question. Vicki Morrison was the school’s health and phys. ed. teacher, a small, restless bundle of energy, just a few years older than Daffyd but somehow war weary from her years of teaching. He’d guessed some time ago that Vicki found him both attractive and good company, and she often sought him out to share her mild cynicism. He grinned at her. “If you make it and I don’t, please let my wife know I was thinking of her at the end.”


She wasn’t sure now. Earlier in the day, Jo thought she’d find some way to draw Daffyd’s attention; perhaps ask lots of questions or volunteer answers, but now she was worried it would be the rest of the class whose eyes she drew rather than her teacher’s alone. Perhaps it was better to keep a low profile.

“So you see, if you follow the basic principles, apply the appropriate theorem, and don’t muck up your calculations, you finish up with the correct answers for momentum, acceleration and final velocity of the falling object.” He drew a line under the problem and turned from the whiteboard. “You all got that, didn’t you?” Daffyd didn’t sound particularly hopeful, but who knew? Miracles might happen.

So far the lesson had been relatively unremarkable. Apart from some fidgeting and talking from the usual suspects, the expected head scratching and groaning from some of the less enthusiastic, Friday afternoon was rolling towards a weekend of respite for both teacher and students. He was relieved it appeared to be business as usual with Jo. Nothing out of the ordinary, no surprises; other than her too snug jeans, there were no uncomfortable reminders of the drama of the day before. With any luck, the bell would go and she would disappear with the rest of the class and out of his restless mind.

So why then did he inexplicably sabotage himself?

The bell sounded and she began to gather her belongings. Somehow she was relieved he hadn’t paid her any more attention than he usually did. And yet, it was just the tiniest bit disappointing…

“Joanne, before you go, could I have a word?” Her head snapped up and she found herself blushing crimson.

Predictably there was a chorus of oohs, but they were half-hearted. Joanne Cooper was never in trouble. The teacher turned away to clean the whiteboard, confused with himself about why he’d chosen to speak with her. Behind him chairs scraped, kids chattered and the class emptied out. “Right,” he thought, “make it quick, clean, and get it over and done with. Wrap this up and move on.”

When he turned, he found Jo perched against the front desk. She’d put her books and belongings down, and stood leaning back and watching him, her coppery curls cascading around her face and shoulders. Daffyd hesitated for a fraction as he absorbed the full effect. She was so gorgeous. He’d always thought so, but had resisted the temptation to dwell on it. But now… She was petite, her small breasts shaping the tee shirt she was wearing, narrow waist flaring to rounded hips. In some respects she was a clichéd redhead, all pale skin, whipped cream with just the merest suggestion of freckles across her nose. Even behind her glasses, hazel green eyes served to complete the fantasy picture.

In the now empty classroom, she held his gaze. “Yes, you wanted me.” Then she grinned and clarified, “I mean, you wanted güvenilir bahis to talk to me?”

“Yesterday. I told Karen– my wife” (Keep it impersonal.) “about… uh… yesterday… seeing you… no, I mean, you know what I mean. And my wife told me about… your visit. I explained what happened, everything, and it was just an accident. So no need to worry about it. We’re fine.” This was going a little better now. “We can all just forget about it, right?” Daffyd smiled broadly to show no hard feelings, no concerns, all was well with the world.


“What? Sorry, what do you mean ‘No’?” And for the second time in two days she had him off balance.

She straightened, her chin lifting as she held his gaze.

“I mean, no, it wasn’t an accident. And no, I don’t want to forget what happened.”

“You… what?” He was floundering, trying to take in what she was saying, even as she pressed on.

“You didn’t know I had a birthday last week, did you? Eighteen now. Just over two weeks to the end of school and now I’m technically allowed to vote, buy alcohol, all that stuff. Once exams are over, it’s holidays and Christmas, then a brand new year.” She could tell he was struggling to keep up, to work out where she was taking this. Jo shifted, placing her feet a little wider, leaning back a touch further on the desk, all of which had the effect of lifting her breasts and tightening her jeans even more across her crotch.

He was clearly unnerved, and Jo pressed her advantage.

“Daffyd…” Her use of his first name startled him, but even so he appreciated that she didn’t mangle it. Her pronunciation was a pretty reasonable approximation of his father’s Welsh accent, the thicker “ff” and softer final “d”. All of which suggested she’d done her homework.

“… I’m pretty confident I’ll get into Melbourne Uni. next year, so it’s off to the big city for me. That is, I’m confident about getting into uni., not so confident about other things.”

One hand dropped to her jeans, thumb hooking into her waistband while her fingers rested lower, pointing to the delta of belly and thighs. Daffyd’s mouth had gone dry, and an unfortunate amount of blood was threatening to rush to his groin.

“I’m not sure what this has to do with me. My job is simply to teach you enough to get you out of high school and into whatever comes next.”

When she smiled, Daffyd noticed the small dimple at the corner of her mouth. Her lips were the softest shade of pink, and for one insane second he recognised the colour of her nipples.

“You and Karen studied in Melbourne, didn’t you? You two know what it’s like.” Jo’s fingers moved, dragging her nails across the denim taut across her belly. The sound was disturbingly loud, drawing his eyes down to where she grazed herself. “It would be nice to…” She paused until his eyes came back to hers. “… talk? For me to learn a little more about…” And her nails scratched again, once, twice, three times. “… things?” Her voice was husky now. “I’m quite innocent about all sorts of stuff.” The dimple reappeared shyly.

“Daffyd, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” She did want that very thing. The classroom clock was ticking manically, while the rest of the school had withdrawn to some far flung territory. There were just the two of them, caught in some unrehearsed dance, where a petite eighteen year old led and the teacher was hesitant to follow.

“If we could just talk, I’m sure I would learn so much.”


Karen always tried to finish a little early on Friday. But not this Friday – a client in Western Australia, unmindful of their three hour time difference, put paid to that. When she finally got home, she found Daffyd in shorts and shirt sitting on the back deck, glass in hand and a half-empty bottle of pinot at his side.

“Ooh, tough day?” She bent and kissed him before dropping into a chair beside him.

“You’d better grab a glass. I think we have a problem.”

This time he spilled everything, held nothing back. He didn’t embellish the encounter, but nor did he pretend it was all innocence. Jo hadn’t waited for a response to her statement about teaching her “things”, but quickly gathered up her belongings and headed for her next lesson. At the door, she’d paused and turned, smiled and made the tiniest pout, an air kiss. Then she was gone.

Karen listened without interruption. Then, “Wow! This girl is good. Poor Davy, she’s got you on a string.”

“Hey!” he protested, “I’m not the only one. I’m pretty sure you’re caught up in this.”

“Me? Why would you think that?”

At this time of year, evenings were warm, drawn out affairs. The distinctive smell of eucalyptus blending with the rising chorus of cicadas all lent itself to relaxing on the deck, glass in hand, pondering the good things in life. It was such a shame there were thorny questions which couldn’t be avoided.

“She was definitely including you in the living in Melbourne experience. She knows we talked güvenilir bahis siteleri last night and she’s too smart to think I wouldn’t say something about this afternoon. Whatever is going on in her evil little mind, you’re part of it.”

“Evil little mind?”

Daffyd managed to grin. “Definitely evil.”

They sat for a while, each trying to figure out what needed to be said and how best to say it. Karen spoke into the silence.

“Here’s the thing – it’s a schoolgirl crush. Nothing too difficult there. You’ve dealt with those before, yes? A good dose of cold shoulder and problem solved…” Pause. “Apart from the fact that she’s so. fucking. attractive.” Daffyd winced at his wife’s frankness. “Let’s be honest, Joanne Cooper is absolutely gorgeous. I’m pretty dammed straight, but even I’m wondering what it would be like to get into her pants.”

“Oh god, just what I need – images of you between Jo Cooper’s thighs!”

“And those nipples. I must confess I’m a little obsessed there. You know, I must’ve thought about her a dozen times today. Naughty thoughts. Positively dirty thoughts.”

Daffyd groaned.

Karen put her glass down. “Do you want me to tell you about it? My nasty, dirty thoughts?”

“That is such a bad idea.”

“But Davy, she’s gone to so much trouble. It wouldn’t be fair to ignore her.” Her tone was teasing and he couldn’t resist.

“What thoughts?”

Karen shifted from her chair to her knees, and moved in front of him. Without thinking, he spread his legs to accommodate her. Her hands rested on his thighs and, her voice all sing-song soft, she began,.

“Well, for a start I definitely need her naked. Don’t you? After all the teasing, I want to see everything up close and personal. I really, really want to see those boobs, so young and firm…” Karen’s fingers curled, echoing Jo as she drew her nails across his thighs. He was trying to suppress his reactions, but even so she could feel the heat begin to rise from him, feel the tension in his legs, the growing discomfort as his cock started to respond.

“They’re so delectable.” She savoured the word, letting it roll across her tongue and lips. “All pointy, like the most delicious ice-cream cones, and I so want to find out what they taste like, what those nipples taste like.”

He squirmed, his prick swollen and bound in his shorts.

“Jesus, Karen,” he complained.

“What?” Her voice was all innocence, as if talking to her husband about sucking another girl’s breasts was the most natural thing in the world. He looked down at her and her eyes were luminous pools. She licked at her lips, then continued.

“I want to run my tongue around them, see how swollen I can make them, take them between my teeth and tug just. ever. so. gently, just enough to make her wriggle. Do you think Jo will like that, Davy? Do you?”

She was still holding his gaze, still gripping his thighs. He was fiercely hard now, her words stoking his arousal. He wanted to stop her and drag her from her knees and into the bedroom where he could strip her and ravish her. But he needed to hear more.

“I’m going to need your help here, Davy. I’m stuck on my knees, and I’m much too tied up in what I’m going to do with our little redheaded friend. I need you to undo your shorts for me, sweetheart. Will you do that? If it helps, you can imagine you’re doing it for Jo.”

“You evil bitch,” he whispered, even as he fumbled with button and zip.

Karen’s laugh was wicked. “Now I’m the evil bitch? I’m not doing anything. Just thinking out loud. Thinking about making our girl moan while I touch her and suck her, while I squeeze her tits, before I run my hand down across her belly.”

The images clutched at him, so lewd, so inappropriate, but oh so captivating. The tall, curvy woman cradling the pale, slender girl. Their hair, their skin such a beguiling contrast.

“Do it,” she breathed. “Come on.” And her fingernails bit into his flesh, urging him.

He tugged himself free of his clothing, his cock thick and throbbing, beating in his palm.

“I’m going to touch her pussy now, and you’re going to watch. You’re going to see me trail my fingers between her legs. I wonder what she’s like. Will she be shaved, d’you think? All pink and shiny? I wonder if she’ll be all puffy down there too – puffy nips and puffy lips…”

“Fuck!” Unbidden, his hand pumped.

“She’s so wet. So, so wet. Wet for my fingers, for me to touch those lips, to drag my fingers through them. I so want to feel her, listen to her respond, watch how she wriggles and squirms as I open her up. I’m going to spread her open so I can see and feel how excited she is for me, and she’s making noises for me, wanting me to push my fingers into her. God, I want to do that, push my fingers into that tight, little cunt.”

Daffyd was helpless now as Karen’s voice drove him further and further into the fantasy. He could see them now, Karen between Jo’s legs, her head so close to where her hands worked iddaa siteleri between the young girl’s legs, her mouth a breath from where he wanted it to be.

The sensations in his groin, the heat, the pulse were insistent, clamouring for attention, demanding more of what Karen was doing to him to bring him release. And his hand beat at his centre, sliding over his silky hardness, feeling every ridge and vein of his prick. Daffyd knew he would be unable to hold back if the woman between his legs continued much longer.

“Lick her! God, please lick her, put your tongue in her!” He didn’t care that he was pleading, didn’t care that Karen had reduced him to this helpless, desperate mess.

She could see what she was doing to the man she loved. His breath was stuttering and his hips beginning to lift to meet his urgent hand. To this point, beyond her hands on his thighs, she hadn’t touched him. It was just her voice and she loved the sense of power her words held over him. But she wasn’t finished yet.

He was on the edge of losing it when her hand reached for him. Her fingers and thumb circled the base of his cock and balls, squeezing him hard enough to stop the breath in his throat and to still his hand.


“Davy!” She did her best to sound indignant. “You wouldn’t come before Jo, would you? I thought I taught you better than that. Wait for her, Davy.”

The whole, hard length of him was protesting wildly and Daffyd groaned. So close.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’re almost there. I just need to slide my fingers into all that wetness, to feel her closing around me, to pump ever so slowly. She loves it, you know. She loves my fingers inside her, she loves it so much she wants more. And I’m pulling back so I can add another finger to fuck her with. Oh god, listen to her moan, listen to her beg.”

Carefully, she eased the pressure of her hand. “Slowly now,” she warned.

He started gently pumping again and she could see clear beads of liquid dripping from him.

“I’m fucking her, Davy. Do you like that? Do you like watching me finger her? Do you like listening to her begging for more?”

“God, Karen.”

“Oh, that’s right – you wanted me to lick her, didn’t you? So I lean into her and I push my tongue deep into her pussy, and lick and suck and god she tastes like heaven.”

Daffyd struggled to keep himself from pumping frantically, from simply giving in to the raging desire to let go. Somehow Karen’s voice held him in check, balancing on the edge, dangling until her words released him.

“I want her clit now, I need to feel it under my tongue and between my lips. I want to suck on it and listen to her cry out, I want her to call my name as I drive her closer and closer and I can feel her orgasm, so close now. Can you feel it?

“Fuck her now, Davy. Fuck her. Help me make her come. Do it now! And she can’t help herself, she can’t stop. I’m sucking her and she’s coming. Listen to her…”

Daffyd’s orgasm was a roaring in his ears and a bolt of joy in his belly, and he was coming in gulping, heaving waves. Karen’s hand and mouth reached for him, her sounds now muffled as she caught his cock and sucked the heated pulses of his release. She clung to him as his hips lifted and shook, and she drank him down.

“Fuck,” he gasped at last. Karen looked up at him as his breathing started to slow. He managed after a moment to get his eyes open and focus enough to meet her gaze. “God, what have you done to me?”

She smirked. “Me? I haven’t done anything to you, Davy. I did it all to her, all for her. For little Miss Jo Cooper.”

With a few more breaths something resembling sanity started to return. He was slumped in the chair and she still knelt below him, resting her arms across his legs. Her face was somehow joyous, transfigured by her ability to do this to him. She’d transported him in a way they could never have imagined and that power turned out to be pure aphrodisiac.

“Come here.” He reached for her arms to pull her up to him.

“Thank god,” she giggled, “My knees are killing me.”

She straddled his thighs and he captured her with a hand behind her head.

“Who are you?” he wondered as he pulled her mouth to his. The kiss was at first uncertain, a taking stock of this new dynamic between them.

From those first faltering steps at university, they’d grown closer and deeper in love. There had never been a single moment when they’d questioned their commitment to one another. Schoolgirl crushes and business associate flirting had all been brushed aside, stuff that didn’t get hidden but also received no more attention than it deserved.

Which wasn’t to say there hadn’t been shared fantasies. While Daffyd and Karen had started slowly, their sex life had grown into a robust source of joy. They were open and honest, up front about what they liked or disliked. Occasionally they would watch porn together, comfortable enough with their real-world love for one another to use make-believe lust to fuel their horniness. If ever they’d been asked, they could quickly answer kinky yes, degrading no. And yes, the occasional girl-on-girl scene was a turn on, but Karen’s fantasy was so far from left field it took them both utterly by surprise.

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