Katie

Tom wasn’t entirely sure what it was he had done to cause her whole body to erupt while he was inside Cassidy.  It was like she exploded when she climaxed, her whole body convulsing and crushing him in ways he had never been subjected to before, ripples and tremors persisting long after the event. He felt it was like being held in a hot moist hug until her muscles finally relaxed, the corrugated textured space within filling with fluid. The air was thick, but there was enough to breathe for the moment. He could tell she was moving around quite a bit, grinning to himself as he considered it somewhat similar to being in a bouncy house.

After cleaning her apartment, Cassidy finally withdrew Tom from within herself, laying him down on a cloth next to the bathroom sink, his skin pruned and puckered by prolonged immersion in a wet damp environment.

“I was taking a nap,” he said, stretching leisurely his arms above his head.

“I can put you back if I’m disturbing your rest?” she offered, arching an eyebrow.

“It’s okay, I’m good for now,” he replied, a half smirk on his face.

“You are a cheeky devil,” she accused, shaking her head as she tested the temperature of the water coming out of the faucet.

Using his best approximation of an antebellum southern drawl, “Why madam, it does seem you mean to impugn the very nature of my character,” he said with solemnity and wounded pride.

“What was it that you did this time, while you were in there?” she asked, trying to understand how he had made her come so hard.

“I don’t know,” he answered with shrug of his shoulders, grinning.

Rolling her eyes, she captured him in her hands and gave him a good through rinsing under the tap before setting him back upon the cloth.

“I say, I say, fortunately I keep my feathers numbered for just such an occasion,” he said, using the same accent as he set about drying himself.

Leaving him on the bathroom counter, Cassidy exited. When she returned she was dressed in black snug looking stretchy pants and an oversized blue flannel button up shirt, her hair pulled back into a tail.

“Are you dry?” she asked, checking her reflection in the mirror.

“Yep,” he replied.

Satisfied she was presentable, Cassidy took Tom up into her hand, quitting the bathroom and returning to the dining room where she placed him near the center of the table where they was a salt and peer shaking, a napkin holder, a couple of flyers, and a bunch of opened envelopes.

Running fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it, he grinned up at her. He was excited to see Miss Harwood, Katie. He chuckled to himself. It seemed odd to think of her by her first name.

“I think that you should wait here,” she suggested, holding up a cautioning finger. “I want you to remain hidden. I will bring you out and show her when the time is right. Understood?”

He nodded sharply, “Okay,” he confirmed before looking for the best place to wait out of sight, but still able to see.

She cocked her head to the side, as if daring him to defy her.

He held up is hands in capitulation, “I will behave,” he assured, walker over to a clear glass salt shaker taller than he before sitting down next and leaning back against it.

She lingered a moment, mouth pursed, eyes on him.

Rolling his eyes, he slipped his hands under his bottom, “See, no idle hands, no mischief,” he promised, giving her his best innocent look.

 “There had better not be,” she warned, turning and walking into the living room.

He tried to imagine the expression on the teacher’s face when she saw him. Would she freak out? What would she do? From his position on the table, he could see through the kitchen and partially into the hall near the door at the front of the apartment. She was in the living room when the door opened and Miss Harwood stepped in. She let herself in? Duh, best friends, stands to reason she would have her own key.

“Ola,” called Miss Harwood, hanging her purse from one of the coat hooks near the door before peeling off her jacket and placing it on the same hook.

“Katie,” Cassidy said, appearing in his field of view, watching as the two women embraced and kissed each other on the cheeks. “How are you?” she inquired.

Having only ever seen Miss Harwood dressed in the perfunctory attire of Sapperton Academy’s teacher dress code, seeing the instructor out of costume was mind blowing for him. She was absolutely gorgeous. Dressed in a powder blue t-shirt, partially erect nipples, the outline visible through the thin cotton, it was easy to tell by the sway her breasts that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Tight black Lulu Lemons, dirty blonde hair with lighter streaks held back in a ponytail.

“It was brutal tonight,” Miss Harwood said with a chuckle, kicking off her running shoes and walking into the living room and sitting on the couch, pulling her feet up underneath her, head turning back toward the kitchen area. “It felt like the whole session took twice as long as normal,” she chuckled.

“Oh?” Cassidy asked, heading into the kitchen and pulling open the refrigerator, taking out two cold bottles Smirnoff Ice, one in each hand as she passed the table, giving Tom a quick glance before entering the room where the other woman was seated.

“Probably just seemed that way because I wanted to come here and get all the details of your new beau,” she replied with a small laugh, reaching out and taking the offered bottle as Cassidy appeared and sat on the other end of the couch, also tucking her feet under her.

Cassidy chuckled. Each woman twisted the caps off their respective bottles.

“Well?” Miss Harwood prompted, yet to take a drink, brows raised.

Cassidy giggled and shook her head.

“I don’t know how to start,” Cassidy said, turning her head from side to side.

“Come on,” prompted Miss Harwood, “Start from the beginning. Where did you meet this mysterious man who has put that goofy grin on your face?”

Setting her bottle on the coffee tale, she held up her hands, “Okay, listen, there is something you have to know,” she started, “this is a very unique situation and I need you to have an open mind.”

“Okay,” confirmed the teacher, face serious, cradling her bottle between hands in her lap.

“You have to promise me?” prompted Cassidy.

Miss Harwood grinned, “Jesus, I promise already. Now you have me so curious, like is it someone famous or something?”

“Whew, okay,” Cassidy said, reaching out and curling her fingers around the slender neck of the sweating bottle and taking a quick drink, “Maybe it’s just easier if I show you,” she added, lower lip held between her teeth.

“Show me?” asked Miss Harwood, puzzled. “Is he still here?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper, eyes alight, brows raised.

Cassidy bobbed her head, and set her bottle back on the coffee table. “I’ll be right back,” she said, dropping her feet down and getting up off the couch and walking into the dining room area.