THE AFFAIR

THE AFFAIR

She summoned me to her office one scorching Saturday afternoon right after Mr. Bernard, our math teacher, dismissed us. It was one of those stodgy days that begged to end early. The guys were headed to a recess a mile to the west of the school where a bunch of them had lost their sanctity. It was bound to be a drunken revelry.Not only were the girls towing along but they were decked with bottles of muratina, a potent local brew. I couldn't leave yet as I had to attend an extra class with Mrs Susan Wairimu, our Geography teacher. I loathed forced tuition. I had rebelled a great deal against it. This had been met with severe punishment. The imperious teachers had alleged that I was trying to foment rebellion at the school and that I was spoiling otherwise smart kids.

All had to attend and pay the mandatory three hundred shillings a month.

It is good for you, they said, especially if you want to procure a slot at a national school.

I had an iconoclastic attitude towards the notion. I didn't care much for national schools(as far as I was concerned the guys who attended these schools were not particularly smart. They were pedants who would spend the next four years getting coached on how to pass the national exams) and all the cramming that accompanied such an endeavor.

They said I was an indolent rebel. My parents concurred.They chucked the three hundred shillings and declared to the teachers to "straighten him out".Straightening you out at Ruai primary school wasn't your standard sit-down-with-your teacher-for-a-chat kind of thing. It entailed another form of regimen, hard labor at the school maize farm followed by severe flagellation.

On this Saturday though I had to stay behind _the only one in the class_ for extra studies as the accord between my parents and the teachers stipulated ,I didn't mind. The fact that I would be taking the lessons with Mrs Susan was sufficient enough to turn a drab day into a pleasant one. She was tall and attractive, with an effulgent smile and a felicitous sense of fashion.She exuded a mystical sexiness that beautiful teachers exude. A benevolent unearthly sexiness that made stripling boys look forth to class. I was fifteen and my hormones were raging. I cherished the idea of standing just above and behind her shoulders when she summoned me to her desk to coach me on a tough question. I would stand there and take a peak through her flimsy blouse and into her braless breasts. They were perky and voluptuous and prayed to be touched. She had noticed me sneak a peak one time and smiled momentarily before adjusting her blouse. I had presumed she would lambaste me.She had looked intensely into my eyes with those tempting eyes and just tossed her head.

I especially relished our unaccompanied sessions as she tended to sit in a rather revealing manner. She would let her legs drift asunder just a slit, enough to spare me a peak. Occasionally she had on nothing. She had caught me peaking a couple of times, focusing on the very spot that was taboo. She had glared at me and drawn her legs together only to regress to the same posture a moment later.

My lessons were ostensibly shifted from the classroom to her office which was attached to a class in standard six block. I proceeded to her office laden with my books. She was there with several teachers, jesting and laughing. She instructed me to shed my bag then dispatched me to purchase soda at Thiongo's kiosk just outside the school premises. I was glad, that would consume some time out of my normal schedule. I took my time.

When I got back roughly thirty minutes later the school was practically deserted. All the class eight students attending tuition were gone and so were the teachers, save for Mrs Susan. She sat in her desk diligently marking tests.

"Hey, that took a while",she said with an inviting smile.

I stumbled some with words trying to arrive at a pleasant lie. I wasn't focusing much though, I was busy watching her. She had stood up to pull out a chair for me. Being a Saturday there was no restriction on the teachers' dressing. She was decked in a tight, thigh high skirt that revealed her long supple legs, and a tight-fitting top that was cut pretty low revealing parts of her ample, braless bosom. It was trimmed high to expose her flat belly and pierced navel. A hard-on rose the instant she bend to push the chair toward me. I found myself blushing and enduring a rather weird posture attempting to conceal a rabid erection. With a smile and a cursory look at the excrescence in my shorts she patted my shoulder and asked me to sit.

For the next hour she tutored me adhering strictly to my course work. She went over my grades, my weaknesses and my strengths. She essayed to inculcate me with a thirst for knowledge. Occasionally she would bend and I would take a hasty peak through her top, other than that and with us sitting collimate to each other it was impossible to get any other view. After an hour of grueling study she offered me soda.

"You have worked hard enough, sit back and relax",she said.

We engaged in light talk.The more we chatted the more she seemed to delve into my sexual life.

"Ever had a woman in your life?" she oppugned

The question took me by surprise .I fidgeted with an uncomfortable countenance. I didn't know if she was inquiring from a teacher's point of view (whose response ought be well thought out lest she intended to report back to my parents) or from a personal point of view( whose response largely depended on her mood and the kind of air she exuded). Once she leaned back on her chair and slowly spread her legs allowing me a generous view of her supple thighs I supposed the question was intimate.

"Yes ,once when I was a kid",I replied.

It was true. I had a pretty vague memory of it though. I recalled this Ugandan maid who used to put me to bed immediately after standard three let out, firm that I take an "afternoon nap" with her. She'd toy some with my member and thereupon give me a speedy hand-job.She was pretty good at it.

"Was it good?"she inquired

"yeah, somewhat" ,I replied.

She laughed.

"What do you imply by somewhat, did you like it or not?"she delved coyly.

"Yes, it was fun but it was so long ago.I was young and my memory is fuzzy."

The conversation was fast delving into forbidden grounds . Mrs Susan rose and bolted the door. She sauntered back and sat facing me and carried on with lascivious gestures. My heart raced . She spread her legs a slit, just enough for me to take a sneak. I felt a sudden rush of blood to my loins.

".......so you did enjoy it ,you have never...."

I got fragments of the conversation nodding every time she appeared to inquire about any thing.

"What is this John?" she suddenly inquired, her smooth hands stroking my adamantine member through the fabric of my shorts.

I was lost for words. I mumbled something incoherent. I found myself reaching, unconsciously, for her silky thighs. For a moment we engaged in amorous dalliance. She pulled my member out and slowly and skillfully stroked it. She looked up and beamed her eyes lambent with eagerness. Her strokes were intense yet gentle. I hassled, hard ,trying to subdue my raging fifteen year old body.

She was adept, her stroke sure. She gave me a passionate kiss that thrust me into celestial pleasure. Then just as I thought it wouldn't get any better she drew up her scant skirt revealing her aphrodisiac curves. She pulled me close, straddled me and rode me long and smoothly. She had a facile stroke borne out of experience. She was a screamer and clawed deep with her long nails.

Suddenly we heard footfalls outside, she froze. I held my breathe .A sliver of sweat forged at the top of my neck and slowly trickled down my back. The footfalls paused outside the door. Mrs Susan , still straddling me ,took a quick glance at her wrist-watch.

"Damn, my husband is here to pick me up. He is early."

I badly wanted to scream. I had made an egregious mistake to delve into adult deviltry.

"Just shush don't say a thing."She whispered, unperturbed, still slowly gyrating her hips in a manner that threatened to thrust me into insanity.

There was a soft rap on the door.

"Honey, I'm here".A voice called.

"You are early honey, I will be done here in a minute",she called out not faltering a beat though her voice was labored.

She was rapidly getting to a climax.Her gyrations grew faster and harder. Her moans ,though muffled by the collar of my shirt where she buried her face, were almost audible.

"I will be in the car then, don't be long I have an appointment".

"Aha".

The foot-steps retreated reluctantly. With effrontery she gyrated even harder vigorously rocking the weak chair to near collapse. It was almost feral ,she clawed on my back and delivered severe bites on my neck as we both screamed our way to a massive orgasm.

She leaned back in enervation .Sweat dripped from her face down to her copious bosom. Her body was still shaking with the diminution of orgasm .

"Don't you ever tell anyone about this, not even your buddies", she said between heaves.

"I promise I wont tell anyone", I said stroking the insides of her thighs. At that point I could have promised her the moon.

As I got dressed and gathered my books and she made her skirt presentable I wondered if this was the incipient of a romance or just a quondam liaison.

"Will this happen again or is it a onetime thing".

She gave me a are-you-out-of-your-mind look and pressed herself against me and planted a wet kiss on my lips.

"Of course not, I love you".

She wasn't a dissolute person, she explained. She had long yearned for me.

I didn't dare ask about her husband.

She picked up her handbag and we both sauntered out. We went our separate ways, she to the parking lot where her doctor hubby awaited in his new Range rover with its gleaming black paint and tinted windows , and I, with my colossal army rucksack slung low on my back and my shorts flapping in the evening breeze to the narrow trail that cut through the overgrown soccer field .

Inclement weather was fast forging to the east.I had two miles to trek to my home and my knees felt awfully weak. I was mighty disquieted for she had struck at one of my foibles. The national exams were drawing close and my fifteen year old mind was now in turmoil. I vaguely wondered how I would fair.