My Science Teacher Priya
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CindyChapter 20 free porn video
And Monday morning came. I wasn't one to hate or dread Mondays, but I dearly despised going away and leaving Cindy to catch her bus. I went through the day almost on autopilot myself. Fortunately for the project, nothing came up that required a lot of attention. Nah, I can't say that. I shift gears pretty fast in the face of real problems. I was happy none showed up on Monday. As I drove out the gate I speed-dialed Cindy on my phone.
"Hey, sweetie," she answered. "You on the way home?"
"You betcha, I am on the way home, and it has been the longest day of work I can remember." A five-day holiday with Cindy had altered my thinking drastically.
I stopped by the front office to check the mail. No Helen. She was off in Europe with her new husband. Steve was in the office and he handed me my mail. I thanked him, commented on the number of visitors in the park, and then headed to my own trailer.
Cindy heard the truck and met me as I was climbing out. When I shut the door, I turned to find myself in her arms, her red hair shining in the light of dusk. We kissed.
She giggled, the tip of her tongue sticking out. "I really LIKE this! We can kiss in public, babe!"
"Yes we can, babe," I said. And I kissed her again. "Load up! We're gonna go to Aunt Sally's Kitchen."
She was grinning as she got into the truck. The center console was in its stowed position and Cindy's beautiful little butt was buckled beside me. "I kind of thought that's what we'd do today after all the food this weekend," she laughed.
"So how was getting back to school?" I asked.
She smiled. "Mr. Hardesty let the cat out of the bag about his plan. I got some strange looks from some of my teachers. It was cool!"
"Do any of your classmates know?"
"Oh, not yet, but it'll get around, I'm sure."
I sighed. "Then it will get interesting, I'm sure."
Her face clouded slightly. "Uh-huh. I'm not sure how that's going to look. There are a few that already treat me different because I make straight A's and help the teachers out in class."
"Anything bad?"
"Oh, no," she said. "A couple of athletes are still playing because I helped them pass math class. With those guys as friends, I don't have to worry about bullying at school."
"Any of them put the moves on you?" This was a larger concern to me.
Smiles. "Yeah, babe, a few guys have paid attention to me. But I was telling them that I HAD a boyfriend. Today I got a few questions about my ring."
"And?"
"I told people the truth. I'm married. Period."
"Teachers too?"
"Teachers too."
The phone rang. I flipped it open. Caller ID said Jim Hardesty. "Hey, Jim," I said.
"Hey, Dan. I heard some news today. I'm kind of startled."
I took a deep breath. I liked Jim and his family. They were good people. But this might be a bit much. "About a certain red-headed prodigy (his words) wearing a wedding band?"
"Yes. Exactly. What about it, Dan?"
"It's true, Jim. Judge Charley Peebles married us last week. Underage waiver and everything. It's legal."
"Wow, Dan," he said. "That's a hard thing to get my mind around."
"Jim," I said, "I value you as a friend. If you want me to explain it, you're my friend and you get an explanation. I think I owe you that."
"Dan," he said. "I dunno. She's one of my STUDENTS!"
"I understand, Jim," I said. "Before this summer I'd have had the same questions. Heck, right NOW I'd have the same questions. But YOU know that Cindy's a special case."
"Yeah," he sighed. "I know she's a special case. But ... marrying her?"
"All I can say is that we sort of rescued each other."
"But ... Married?"
"Jim. It's just that way. I mean, we're MARRIED. As opposed to sneaking around, or "do 'em an' drop 'em" or anything exploitive. I am an honorable man. And at fourteen, she is a unique and very honorable young lady. Who is now my wife."
There was a pregnant silence, then Dan spoke. "When you look at it that way, Dan..."
"Jim, look, I am very happy to call you my friend. You and Ann both. But have you ever seen me without Cindy?"
"Now that I think of it, no."
"It's still that way. Except we're married. And I ... we still want to call you and Ann our friends."
My truck was parked in the restaurant parking lot by now. Cindy was gazing at me, listening to my side of the conversation and what she could catch of Jim's.
"Have you told Ann?" I asked.
"Yes I did. And she's the one who told me to call you," he said.
"How'd Ann take it?"
"Apparently she took it better'n me. Said you were a nice guy and Cindy was a sweet and unusual young lady, and that stranger things have happened than this. And get over it."
"So are you getting over it?"
"But you married ... a fourteen year old..."
"I would have married this person had she been fifty, too. What a startling person she is."
"Startling. That's an interesting adjective." He sighed. "Okay, Dan. I may wake up in a cold sweat later, but I understand. I think."
"Still friends?"
"Friends. So ya'll need to come over and visit, okay?"
"We'll be happy to. Soon."
"Okay, Dan. Forgive me for questioning your intentions, okay?"
"No, Jim," I said. "Nothing to forgive, there. You take your job seriously. I appreciate you caring about Cindy, in and out of school."
"Dan, that's just me an' you. We both take our jobs seriously. Talk to you later, okay?"
Cindy held her hand out for my phone.
"Uh, Jim, Cindy wants the phone."
"Let 'er talk to me," he said.
"Hi, Mister Jim," she said. "I guess you heard the news, huh?"
"Yes, Cindy, I did. It surprised me."
Cindy sighed, "I'm sorry. Dan and I wanted to tell you personally (a little white lie) but things just didn't line up for that. I really like you and Mizz Ann."
"Cindy," he said. "It was a shock and I guess I took it wrong. I'm a teacher ... well, a guidance counselor, and you're one of my kids. How my kids are treated is important to me. I didn't want you hurt."
"I understand, Mister Jim," she said. "But Dan's a good man, and if it wasn't for him and Mizz Helen, my life would be bad. And you, too, Mister Jim."
"I understand, Cindy," he said. "Everything is okay with us now. I'm happy for your good news. Ya'll need to get over for dinner soon, okay?"
"Okay!" she squeaked. "Thanks, Mister Jim!" And she closed the phone. Looking at me, she said, "Baby, you didn't sweat that much when Tootie cornered you."
"I know. But Jim's not family. He's a friend. And that's a different set of rules. I wanted him to think well of us. You and me."
We went inside and had a pleasant meal. And the dear old ladies who owned the place noted the matching rings. And smiled.
The taller one said, "We thought you were such a lovely pair ... Congratulations!"
Cindy beamed. "Oh, thank you so very much! You honor us!"
That completely melted the two ladies.
We bid them goodbye and left. In the truck, Cindy belted in and slumped against me. "Gosh, Dan," she said, "This bein' married is a strain."
I put my arm around her shoulder. "I'm sorry, babe," I said. "I knew we'd cause some upset."
"You know," she opined, "You'd think people would be happier for us. D'you know how many people just shack up these days?"
"I don't think that's it, babe. I think it's the fact that you're so young. People who care enough to treat us like individuals and to find out the situation, THEN make judgment, they're going to accept this. But a lot of people will look at us and see and older man exploiting a tender young girl."
"Oh, yeah..." She took a breath. "Like I want you to exploit me when we get home?"
"Oh, no, babe," I laughed. "I exploited you last time. This time you have to exploit me!"
Laughing and giggling in relief, we drove back into the park, entered the trailer, and exploited the daylights out of each other.
Life got back to a routine slowly. After a week or so, all the local places we visited, cafes and restaurants, the same places that had gotten used to Dan and his young friend, now were getting used to Dan and his young wife. Or in some cases, Cindy and her husband. Cindy was a striking young lady, both in her appearance and in her polite and mature demeanor and women took a liking to her, conveying on her no guilt or ill will. So I was Cindy's husband and if it was okay with Cindy, it was okay with them.
We finally did get a chance, too, as promised; to go to the gun range and I coached Cindy in firearms basics. I had thought, foolishly, when considering that I had yet to put something in front of Cindy that she backed down from, that she'd be timid at the prospects of handling lethal hardware, but no...
"It's something I've been thinking about," she said. "These are tools. Right now I'm learning to use them."
So I coached her. First range session wasn't going to turn my girl into Annie Oakley, but I showed her how to use both pistols at ten yards (you'll never use a pistol at a longer range, not for self-defense, I told her) and the shotgun at the same distance. I thought a twelve-gauge shotgun would be a bit of stretch, even for little Miss "I can do it", but I told her about pulling the butt into her shoulder and using the ghost-ring sights and SHE asked for the second five rounds. A man-sized cardboard silhouette lacked a midsection from her efforts.
With the AR-15 rifle, she had fun. After a few sketchy "this is how you do it" pictures about the sights, the lifespan of a four-inch clay pigeon at a hundred yards was distressingly short.
Following our exercises, I showed her the fine art of weapons maintenance. She was impressed with the apparent simplicity of good weapons design and function. And after I showed her disassembly and assembly once, I let her try it on her own. With four different guns. And her first attempt needed a little coaching and reminding. Her second and third attempts didn't.
Back at the trailer, I distributed the weapons around the place as they always had been. "Now," I said, "I feel better. I know YOU know what's going on, and YOU know how to use one of those if you need to."
She looked at me wearing her "serious" face. "Yes I do." She smiled. "You, know, babe, you just keep giving me the tools to take care of myself."
"What?" I looked at her.
"You want me to be able to take care myself. You show me that I can do things."
"Oh, well, baby, I want you to be independent. Except for one thing."
Her brow knit in her little "worry" look. "One thing?"
"Yeah," I said, "pulling her against me. "I want you to depend on me for your love and care."
She nestled against me. "Oh, you don't have to worry about that. I will never leave you or forsake you."
"I still worry. You still go to school and see guys your age and you tell me they try to put the moves on you."
She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me down to meet her face to face. "So what," she said. "You CARE about me for my mind and for my future and YOU know how to do things. You've given me wings, and I'm not just talking about that old airplane, either." She looked into my eyes. "Do you know that when I close my eyes at school I think of getting home to YOU? Well, I do, you know." She held her hand up, showing me her ring. "This means something to me. Everything. Besides, it's Saturday. Why don't we get the heck out of here and go find us a big shower?"
We did. This time when we walked in with bags in hand, we were holding hands. After a marathon session naked in the middle of a king-sized bed, we walked back out, dressed for a concert. She was in an outfit guaranteed to etch itself in any male mind: Simple "little black dress". Tastefully subdued black pumps. Flawless skin. Green eyes. And perfectly aligned, every strand in place, red hair. I was wearing my "let's look civilized" suit. And we walked out, and heads turned.
Our night on the town included a concert by a very competent chamber orchestra, a meal at a fine restaurant, and a stroll in the park. And we returned just after ten PM, stripped off our clothes and showered together. I shaved and Cindy dried her hair and we kept exchanging glances in the mirror we shared.
Naked. In bed. I pushed her onto her back and pinned her, our mouths meeting, tongues caressing each other. Her arms and legs wrapped around me drawing us together, my dick trapped between us.
"You are perfect, Cindy! I am the luckiest guy in the world."
Her eyes twinkled. "And I'm the luckiest girl. Because we're MADE for each other." Her mouth met mine again and she squirmed under me until my dick popped from between us and slid down her wet, waiting slit. "Mmmmmm, baby," she purred. "All my perfect evenings end with us mating."
"Why is it that when I'm thinking of something, getting ready to say it to you, you say it to me first?"
"Cuz," she said as she wiggled her pussy to line up with my dick, "it's like when I told Mizz Sara we were married. She said it figured, 'cuz I was a little female version of you."
Her pussy caught the head of my dick and I slid, well, with her deliciously tight pussy, I pushed inside her. "OH, god, baby. That feeling will NEVER get old."
"Mmmm! No it won't." She giggled. I felt her butt's musculature tighten as she pushed up forcing me further into her. As we pushed together her delight was expressed in tinkling glee and I laughed along with her.
"You are a joyous lover, babe!" I said.
Her eyes were bright, but she bit her bottom lip, then said, "We always start out laughing, but then it gets serious..." She pushed up and I pushed forward and we hit our rhythm. I could feel her thighs flex, wrapped around me. My hands found their way to her waist and I gripped her to better gain purchase as I drove my dick into nirvana.
Her own hands were on my shoulders, her fingers digging in and as things got more intense, she moved her head forward, her mouth searching for purchase on my chest. I felt her teeth bite into my chest, her lips sealing around the point of contact, sucking.
As she reached orgasm, I heard muted cries from her occupied mouth and I joined her in a parallel universe, my balls contracting as I sent spurt after spurt deep inside her pretty pussy. Her head fell back to her pillow and her eyes opened.
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