The Tutor_s Suitors

Sheila Lane

Chapter 1

Paula lay warm and glowing above the sheets, her clean beauty sheened with a coat of perspiration, filming her forehead and round breasts.

She moved slightly, her body making a short stemmed, lacy bouquet of white skin and blond curls upon the immense bed. One flesh-swollen tit rolled out of her frilly nightgown, hollowing its soft way into a curve of an even softer pillow. A wild whim ran a hot sensation down her naked spine, and her finger moved between her legs, hair stroking. But she put the thought aside. Why were her thoughts more often than not concentrated on that moist, lippy spot? Her dreaming lately, had seldom wandered far from the arena of sex… the noticing of that mushy bunch in the tight jeans of the boys in her Sunday School class… that butter-soft mouth of Mike Randall as he sat on the floor before her each Sunday… thinking how that young mouth would feel against her creaming vaginal lips… and would he know enough at his age to dart his tongue out a bit… Ohhh! How that would feel!

No! Don't think that! And then it would stop for a while, but after she got done telling herself how obscene, how filthy those thoughts were, and she wanted nothing to do with such things – it would begin all over again. Maybe this time it would start with the saliva suddenly filling her mouth with the thick outline of that something hanging down Jay Divan's leg when she watched him stretching up to a shelf in class to get the lesson books down. Or something as silly as finding herself sucking on a hot dog instead of biting into it.

It was almost midnight and Paula Swan was still not asleep. Paula's ice-blue eyes glittered wetly in the darkness. She had almost hated her father for his holier-than-thou lectures. Yet, as the years of her childhood had passed, something had happened. The developing of her body, the looking forward to the odor of her father's male-odors when he stood next to her in church.

And then, of course, there was Jim Vickers.

Jim Vickers handling her body in the car, after those meetings. Jim Vickers, built like her father, even smelled vaguely like him. Remembering herself throwing her arms around Jim Vickers' neck, thrusting her hard nipples against him, tossing her head as far back as it would go, beginning a swaying movement that caused her tight body to rub back and forth against him, the closing of her eyes then, and the fluttering of her dark lashes. And on those nights with Jim, everything else was forgotten, and a new air of excitement would grip her, and Jim would reach down and grip her squirming legs, nudging them apart gently. She remembered him, seeing him through the moonlight that strayed into the parked car, looking down at her straining thighs, and he would lean forward, more closely then, to scrutinize the exposed valley of – naked blond-fluffed fringe between them.

And Paula would groan, not wanting to, but doing it anyway, and her own fingers would reach down far and find the throbbing thicknesses of him.

She lay in her bed remembering the firm, flesh curving rigidly from Jinn's belly. Greedily, she would stroke at it, rubbing the soft flesh of her naked thigh against it, feeling the warm, spear-like penis sway back and forth in her grasp. Soon she would feel the sticky wetness shoot out of him, drenching her thighs, trickling down below her butt on the car seat.

"You hot, lovely thing," Jim would grunt, driving himself against her, "You're making me come now… come with me, Paula!" And Paula would sob with desire, wanting to get at his whole body, grasp that lovely thick rod of meat with her lips, but his hands would keep her far enough away that only her wet tongue could dream of tasting the bulging head of his arrogant masculinity. But he would then throw his face on her bared tit and suck sweetly on her aroused nipple,, and with his free hand he would lift her smooth buttocks so that the slit of dewy flesh and light foliage formed a perfect target just twelve inches below his sucking lips.

In her bed, Paula arched her supple back, drifting sweetly off into the hot bath of always remembered memories. She felt it build up in her, and she shuddered with exquisite pleasure. Her index finger thumped madly at her clit while her other hand stroked at her nipple, just as Jim used to do.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she moaned, in the quiet of her room.

She thought of him doing the things Jim had never done.

Fucking her in the ass.

Fucking her in the mouth, coming in great gushes on her tongue.

Fucking her between her breasts, rubbing the purplish head of his penis over the hard nipples.

Her muscles corded and one hand clutched at the still-cool sheet.

A stab of pure pleasure made Paula's entire body convulse as the wild thought of Jim's tongue plunging through the thatch of blond pubic hair, finding what it sought, raced through her fantasizing mind.

The moan that signaled the approach of orgasm rose to a little cry of joy, and she moved her hand from her tit, up into her mouth, and sucked on it, as though it was the real thing.

She kissed the finger with an open mouth, taking the tip of it between her lips, her tongue licking at it violently. She ran her tongue over and around the stiff finger, making whimpers of sheer joy.

And then her mind galloped through the thought of Jim inside her, digging deep while his fingers tweaked her nipples, fingernails running over their tips.

Paula raised her hips to meet the imagined low eying of Jim's cock into her. And she came. And came… and came…

Paula fell asleep then, never having another thought. It was a Saturday night, and the next morning she would appear at her Sunday School class with that pure, innocent, freshly-white smile on her face, and no one would ever dream of the longing that racked her over-ripe body.

Paula Swan shifted on the leather seat of her chair and raised her head from the Sunday school lesson material she'd been reviewing. Her blue eyes met the insolent black eyes of Jay Divan, and she realized with a shock that she had done it again – she had hooked he; heels on the rung of the chair and let her knees spread outward, pulling her short skirt taut across the tops of her thighs and revealing their inner surfaces to the three boys sitting on the floor just a few feet beyond her table. No matter how often she cautioned herself to keep her feet on the floor and her knees tightly together during this hour every Sunday morning, she sometimes found she had forgotten and then the results were embarrassing. She supposed her lapses were caused by the fact that she sat that way at work, but there it didn't matter because nobody could see her legs behind the solid front of her desk. Here the table offered no protection, and since the boys had taken to sprawling on the floor, it was worse than ever.

Her first impulse was to get to her feet and dismiss the class. But that wouldn't do. The lesson period still had over five minutes to run, and if she let her group go early, they'd disturb the other classes and wander off and not stay for services. Dr. Johnson wouldn't like that and neither would Dr. Muster, the new assistant minister and director of the youth program. Both men constantly emphasized the fact that these youngsters were the adults of tomorrow and should start taking their spiritual duties seriously. Paula agreed with them, but she could also understand how the kids felt. She was only twenty herself and sometimes shared their reluctance to spend an hour listening to Dr. Johnson's tired old voice when they could cut off to the beach or the park on this warm, summery day.

There was another reason she didn't immediately close her legs, but she didn't want to admit that one even to herself. Unforgivable as it was to let those boys look at the satiny inner flesh of her thighs with the narrow band of pink cloth between them and the few stray curls of blond hair escaping from under the edges, it gave her a perverse thrill. Just knowing three sets of male eyes were ogling the display of intimate flesh was exciting. It reminded her of how Jim Vickers had always asked her to sit opposite him at meeting and socials and give him quick peeks at her crotch when the others weren't looking. Once he had even talked her into leaving her panties in the car so he could see the golden fluff of pubic hair when he signaled her to open her legs. He said the imminent danger of being caught added spice to the game. Maybe he was right, because although Paula had been terrified all evening lest someone discover she was naked under the brief skirt, she had also been so powerfully stimulated she was trembling with the hots by the time they left the gathering. Jim had been, too, and as soon as they were in the car, he had used his fingers on her wet and puffy pussy to bring her to a climax and had made her do the same for him. She knew it was a terrible thing to do, but she just couldn't help herself when he got her that excited.

Paula shivered and forced her mind back to the present. How was she going to get out of her present predicament? She didn't want to pull at her skirt or make any move that would acknowledge the fact that she knew she was on display. If the boys thought it had happened without her being aware of it, maybe she could distract them, then change position while they talked. She had to get their minds on something else before they noticed that their stares were arousing her sexually, creaming a bit.

"Of course, you all know that we'll be having our usual summer camp at Mountain Grove," Paul said, smiling over the boys' heads at the girls who were sitting on chairs behind them. "Dr. Muster and his wife will be in charge of arrangements, and of the retreat itself, and all fees should be paid to them. Any of you who wish to share this wonderful experience of living close to nature in Christian fellowship for two glorious weeks should' register as soon as possible."

She could feel Mike Randall's blue eyes on her legs like a physical touch, feel the tingle as they moved up the inside of her thighs over the soft peach fuzz that covered the fullness where the legs swelled just before tapering into the creases on either side of her plump mound and lingered on the strip of nylon that covered her pussy inadequately.

Mike was a tall, handsome boy with neatly combed, sandy hair. He was only fifteen but so athletic and beautifully developed that he could have passed for twenty. His broad chest and powerful shoulders stretched his white knit shirt taut across his upper body. He was wearing the usual tight, narrow pants, and Paula tried to ignore the prominent bulge in the front of them.

Oh, Mike, what a lovely strong body! If only I could be alone with you, if only I could pull that zipper down and let that warm, pulsing tower of flesh out and hold it in my hand, run my fingers over it and… let you… let you…

Paula's conscience clamped down hard and cut off the end of that thought, but it couldn't stop the forbidden thrill that shot through her or the sudden dampness that oozed against her panties. She was ashamed that such a thing had happened to her in Sunday school and fearful that the watching boys would see the color deepen as the thin cloth between her legs absorbed the moisture.

What was the matter with her? Why couldn't she control her thoughts and fantasies? She wouldn't for a moment have seriously considered approaching one of the boys in her class, or anyone else, for that matter. Paula Swan was a good girl. Or she had been until she started dating Jim Vickers. Well, not dating actually, because ministerial assistants didn't date girls from the congregation; they merely escorted them to various church functions. Paula knew that better than anyone, having been escorted by four such gentlemen over the last four years. Each had been fresh out of the seminary, filled with zeal for his chosen work, and each had stayed less than a year before moving on to larger, more affluent congregations. Most were polite and impersonal as old Dr. Johnson, and that was one reason Paula had been so sure it was the real thing when Jim Vickers said he loved her. She had seen the necessity for keeping their engagement a secret until he was called to a post outside of Mapleville. It really could have developed into a sticky situation if it had become generally known that they were serious about each other. And how was she to know that Jim was merely using her as a sexual outlet while he was stuck in a small town and didn't dare risk being seen with loose women or girls of questionable reputation? She had honestly thought he loved her and had been unable to deny him when the gentle kisses changed into deep, tongue-tangling, sexually arousing caresses that had led to…

"I know that all of you will find Dr. Muster and his wife people to whom young people can relate," Paula heard herself saying. "They have come to our church with a reputation for liberal thinking and meaningful action in religious affairs."

She was amazed at her ability to continue talking about other things while her body seethed with urges and desires she hadn't known existed until a few months ago. As frustrating as the affair with Jim had been, it had been better than the constant erotic fantasies that had begun plaguing her shortly after his abrupt departure to accept a pastorate halfway across the continent.

"Will you be, at camp this year, Miss Swan?" Kenny Newman asked.

Paula looked at his pink cheeks and wide, innocent brown eyes. She knew he'd been staring at her bared thighs just as intently as Mike and Jay, and she guiltily gloated over the knowledge while keeping her lips curved in a smile she didn't feel. Kenny was thirteen, the son of a prominent doctor, and had led a very sheltered life. Paula was sure he was still a virgin and wondered what it would be like to introduce a boy like that to love, to have him naked in her bed, to run her hands over his hairless chest and babyish belly, to let her fingers slide downward to touch the untried lance of his boyhood.

No, no, no! I've got to stop thinking things like this!

"Naw, she won't be there!" Jay Divan said, his voice a challenging sneer. "She's got more important things to do, haven't you, Miss Swan?"

"Now Jay, you know nothing is more important for me than you boys and girls," Paula said, irritated with him for putting her on the defensive. Jay was a husky brute, a bully who strutted and bragged to the other boys about his prowess with girls. Paula had never been able to figure out just why he bothered coming to Bible school and avoided him as much as she could without being deliberately rude. His black eyes were mocking and she knew without being told that sex with him would be quick and brutal. He would stab into a woman without caring if he hurt her, would fill and bruise the tender flesh of her vagina, thrusting with cruel insistence until she cried out with pain and passion.

"Aw, come off it, Miss Swan," Jay said, shifting his eyes from her face to her exposed thighs and back again. "You don't want to fool around with a bunch of punk kids at a summer camp, so quit putting us on."

"Jay, that's unfair!" Paula said and swiveled the chair to face him more directly. The movement caused her legs to spread a bit wider and the strip of cloth between them slipped to one side. She could feel the coolness of the air on her moist slit and shuddered involuntarily, knowing it looked as though she were offering herself to this boy she despised.

And that was exactly the way Jay chose to interpret the action. Grinning lewdly, he leaned forward and licked his lips.

"Sinful, lusting woman!" Paula heard her father's voice shouting in her mind and jerked her eyes away from Jay.

"Miss Swan, are you going to camp with us or not?" Barb Randall asked, her blue eyes clouded and her voice tense.

"Well, Barb, I… No, I don't think so," Paula said, wondering why it, should be so important to the girl. Barb was a year younger than her brother but was just as tall and good-looking and just as interested in sports. They really could have passed for twins and until recently had been as close as twins. Paula had noticed their apparent alienation and deplored it but put it down to Mike's having discovered girls and Barb's being jealous. She couldn't think of anything else that could be troubling Barb, and she'd been meaning to talk to the girl and try to explain that this was part of the natural growing-up process, but she'd been too preoccupied with her own strange cravings to get around to it.

"But we had so much fun last year," Cindy Davis spoke up. "Remember the long walks we took in the woods, Miss Swan, and the rap sessions after lights out?"

"Yes, Cindy, I remember," Paula said, smiling at the thirteen-year-old and noting with a slight sense of shock the high, full breasts and lusciously curved arms and thighs. Later on, Cindy might be fat but right now in the first budding of adolescence, she was adorable with her carroty-red hair falling softly to her shoulders and her turned-up nose with its sprinkling of freckles. How quickly they all grew up! "'There will be plenty of people for you to talk and rap with, I'm sure. Dr. Muster and his wife are sympathetic and understanding, and with all the interesting things there are to do at Mountain Grove, you'll never miss me."

"But we will," Mike said, lifting his eyes from Paula's legs to her face. "We'll miss you terribly, Miss Swan. Camp just won't be the same without you."

Paula's face felt flushed. She knew what Mike was thinking, knew he was speculating about the opportunities for intimacy between camp counselors and young people at Mountain Grove. She knew, because the limited supervision and scattered cabins had been uppermost in her own mind for the past few weeks. That was the main reason she had decided not to go. She was afraid of what might happen there in the pine-scented woods with the tanned and usually half-naked bodies of so many boys,around. She was afraid that no matter how hard she tried, she wouldn't be able to control herself.

"There will be other years," she said briskly to cover her uneasiness. Perhaps some other year she would be more sure of herself, more certain that she could make her body live up to her ideals, more positive that she could be a good rather than an evil influence on the young people of the church.

"But a year's an awful long time," Barb said forlornly.

"What's the matter, Barb? You having boy problems?" Jay's voice was sly and insinuating.

"Shut up!" Barb flared and blushed scarlet through her tan. "Mind your own business, Jay Divan! I was talking to Miss Swan!"

Jay smirked and winked knowingly, and Paula looked from one to the other of them, her mind in a turmoil. Surely she couldn't be pregnant, could she? Not intelligent, athletic Barb! Not Barb who had won a dozen medals in high school swim meets and whose teachers considered her one of their most promising students! Paula had always found the girl to be sincerely religious and dedicated to.Christian concepts and ideals. Surely Barb was too open and aboveboard to be hiding a thing like that, but why was she so flustered and angered by Jay's implied accusations? Had she actually been with a boy? Had she perhaps been suffering and given in to it and been trapped by her inexperience into an unwanted pregnancy? If so, Paula felt that she was partly to blame, because she had been so selfishly occupied with her own problem that she had failed to realize the girl was so troubled.

"Would you like to have a nice long talk this afternoon, Barb?" Paula asked. "If you have some difficulty I can help you with, I'd be only too happy to."

"Does that go for me, too, Miss Swan?" Jay asked, looking from her crotch to the swollen front of his pants. "I got an awful big problem I need help with."

Paula's eyes flicked at him angrily. She hated Jay for the sneering, cynical young brute he was, but she couldn't suppress a shiver of excitement as her glance swept over the outline of his engorged phallus. "No, Jay, I won't be able to see you," she said quickly, knowing she had to fight off the feelings running rampant in her, the senseless lust for boys she had no business wanting, the strange craving for men she met casually through her job as secretary for a large trucking firm.

"You can come by my place this afternoon if you want to, Barb," she said, keeping her voice calm and steady. "Or if this evening is more convenient, that'll be fine, too I'm not going out."

"What, no date on Sunday night?" Jay said and nudged Mike. "Man, the fellows sure are missing something, ain't they, Mike?"

Paula felt her face flush, but she ignored the remark and spoke to Barb again. "Shall I expect you then?"

"I… I suppose so, Miss Swan, but…"

"I'll go if you don't want to," Jay said. "Can I come by, Miss Swan? I need counseling awful bad. Can I come by, huh? Can I come?"

Paula knew he had deliberately used the term to taunt her. What must the boy think of her to believe he could get away with something like that?

"You'll have to talk to Dr. Muster if you want private counseling," she said sternly, frightened by his insistence and shocked by her reaction to it as well as by her lewd behavior that had brought his leering suggestions into the open. If the opportunity presented itself and' the two of them were alone, would she let him do what he so obviously wanted to do, or would her pious upbringing assert itself and save her? She didn't know, but she did know that she didn't dare take a chance on finding out.

She pushed back her chair and got to her feet, smoothing her skirt down and trying not to notice the disappointed looks on the faces of the three boys sitting on the floor. "That will be all for today, class. Don't forget to register for camp. I'll see you this afternoon, Barb, and the rest of you next Sunday. Be sure and stay for services."

She was gathering up her lesson book, Bible and papers as she spoke, wanting only to get away from the scene of her shame, to run from the knowledge that she had deliberately exposed herself to the gaze of three barely pubescent boys and aroused them to sinful lust. She would never be able to forgive herself, never! She had to do something about herself. She had to find a way to control herself or something dreadful would happen.

The young people were still milling about aimlessly when Paula hurried from the room and down the hallway toward Dr. Muster's office. Her face was warm, and her thighs felt hot and sticky. She thought she even detected a faint aroma drifting up around her from the wet crevice between her thighs.

"You smell like a bitch dog in heat," her father would have said if he were alive and aware of her condition. "It's a wonder every male within miles doesn't come sniffing after you."

Paula wanted to talk to Dr. Muster, wanted the calm assurance of his deep voice, wanted to strengthen her faith with his dedicated idealism. She wanted to tell him how she'd been suffering, get his advice and his sympathy.

She flung open the door to Dr. Muster's office and entered without knocking, too agitated to observe the amenities. The minister looked up from the papers on his desk, mild irritation replaced almost immediately by pleased surprise on his handsome features. A tall, strongly built man in his late thirties, he had silver-gray hair and a low-pitched voice that rumbled like the deep notes of a pipe organ. Everyone in the congregation thought of Ephraim Muster as a dedicated and brilliant minister; Paula thought of him as a saint.

"Paula, my dear, how nice to see you," Muster said, getting to his feet like the courtly gentlemen he always seemed. "I was just thinking about you."

"Thinking about me?" Paula felt her heart flutter. As always in his presence, she was just a little awed, and felt her resolution to make a clean breast of her problem falter. How could she tell this saintly, chaste man that one of his Bible-school teachers was a lustful slut who couldn't keep her legs together even in front of her students?

"Yes, I was wondering about this decision of yours not to be a counselor at our summer retreat this year."

"Oh. Well… I thought rd do something else this year. I've gone to Mountain Grove for the last three summers, and that's enough." Her voice sounded brittle and phony, and she was sure he'd see right through her; those calm gray eyes would look right into her leprous little soul and see the lust that was destroying her.

"Well, that certainly is disappointing," Muster said. "We were counting on you, you know. Olive Mills is going and Joe Boggs, but that still leaves us shorthanded. Why is it that you don't want to go, my dear? Because of the camp itself? I've heard there was talk about the facilities being inadequate and the food not up to par, but I'm making quite a few changes and things will be different this year. I'm not criticizing Jim Vickers, but I've had more experience in such matters and I think everybody will notice the improvement."

He looked at Paula as though awaiting comment, and she felt compelled to say something. "Yes, the camp was badly run. The roofs of the cabins leaked, and it rained several nights. The kids caught colds. We didn't have a nurse, and the first aid supplies weren't adequate-there wasn't even enough aspirin to go around. I'm not criticizing Jim Vickers either, but the safety regulations around the lake weren't enforced properly at all, and supervision on other sports was practically nil. I don't want to get mixed up in a mess like that again. If anything happened to even one of those kids… well, you know what parents are like."

Dr. Muster nodded. "You're right, of course, but I've seen to it personally that the facilities have been improved, the buildings made safer and new personnel hired to run the camp. I even hired a new cook, Mrs. Clark, who is a real gem. It's counselors I have to round up now. Are you sure you won't reconsider?"

"Well, I… did you say Olive Mills was going?" Paula said nervously. Olive was only eighteen, untrained and likely to panic in an emergency. Sending a group of teen-agers off under her supervision would be worse than placing one of the kids in charge and hoping for the best.

"Yes, Olive Mills and Joe Boggs," Muster said, and Paula could have sworn that his half-closed eyes shifted downward to where her dress pulled taut across the twin mounds of her full young breasts, but she knew that couldn't be.

"Do you really think Joe is responsible enough?' she heard herself asking.

Muster shrugged. "Oh, Joe's all right. I know he doesn't work too steadily, but he's a good church member and will set a good example for the young people.

A good example for sneaking off to sleep or to get himself a drink, Paula thought. Joe had been fired from the trucking firm where she worked fog doing both on the job.

"But we still need you," Muster said, gazing into her eyes intently. "Your experience and dedication We're expecting at least thirty boys and girls, and four counselors won't be any too many. We need, you Paula, I need you."

I need you. Words like that from this man were enough to make her forget everything but how much she admired him, how much she worshiped him.

"What is this other summer project you have in mind?" he asked, smiling: "What important program have you committed yourself to?"

Going out to get myself bred… to find a man to swill in carnal lust with. To rid myself of my terrible longings, of my constant thoughts of what it would be like to have every man or boy I see thrusting into me!

Even now her treacherous body was trembling with thoughts of Ephraim and how it would feel if… oh, no, no, riot Not this godly man! I've got to stop thinking things like this! Even in my fevered fantasy world,, I shouldn't be imagining what it would be like to be naked on a bed with Ephraim Muster's strong body looming over me, of his engorged manhood bouncing against the inside of my thighs, of the knobby tip pressed into my curly pubic hair, forcing its way between the wet lips of my… no, no, not I wish I could burn the lust out of my body, out of my soul, with a red-hot poker!

"What is it, Paula? What's wrong?" Muster asked as she swayed, reaching out a hand to steady her.

Paula drew back as though in revulsion, unable to bear his touch, not wanting to expose him to contamination of her flesh. "`N-nothing's wrong."