Shari Has a Secret

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Redhead

CONTENT WARNINGS–large age difference, same-sex marriage, and student-teacher dynamic. If this is not something you enjoy reading about, please skip this story!!

For everyone else…as always, this story takes place long ago during a time where cell phones and computers aren’t a thing. Marriage is mentioned here, but this takes place during a time when people had to hide being gay/lesbian. I hope you enjoy reading this–please don’t forget to vote and check out my other stories!

*****

They were alone together one night, Shari and Velma, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. They shared kisses and secrets, growing the bond between student and her former teacher. Safe in the shroud of diffuse light from the nightstand, shadows cast against the wall melded together, undulating and swaying hypnotically while they stood there beside the bed in the room they shared since their “marriage” was, at long last, consummated a few months earlier. The wordless language of love was spoken freely here, though in bursts. An errant gasp told Velma she was on the right track when her mouth made contact with Shari’s graceful neck. She tenderly brushed aside the torrent of light blond locks, kissing her sweet young wife, this girl who was once her student.

Velma Blount’s thin lips stretched wide in a conspiratorial smile as she watched the luster of Shari’s satin robe part like the shimmering waves of a wine colored sea. In a quiet swish, the garment slipped away and disappeared in the darkness somewhere. Shari stared back at the tall butch woman. The thick eyebrows, hollow cheeks and lines etched deeply in the weathered face staring back at her looked alarming to most people. But Shari wasn’t fazed. She was lost in her lover’s hoary blue eyes. College classes, her part-time job, and her friends all faded away in that frosty gaze. All that remained, and all that mattered now, were the secrets she and Velma were about to share.

In this moment, between heartfelt kisses and solemn vows of love, Shari Keefer felt like she’s known Velma forever. It wasn’t so long ago when the now 21 year old Blake College student was cowed by the formidable presence of Miss Velma Blount. She attended, and graduated, from Talcott High School. Miss Blount was her gym teacher. The formidable woman towered over her students at an intimidating 6’2″. She was arguably one of the most respected teachers, not just in the building, but the entire district. Miss Blount had a presence about her that commanded respect in most and instilled fear in others.

And Shari Keefer was drawn to her, although she wasn’t at first. The locker rooms, gym, playing fields and tennis courts were little fiefdoms. Miss Blount was the tyrant, ruling these spaces with an iron fist. Like calisthenics, every gym class was conducted with militaristic precision. Old Miss Blount stood, grim sentinel that she was, clipboard in hand, watching Shari and her classmates file into the gym from the locker room. The towering gym teacher blew the whistle that always dangled from the lanyard around her neck (besides a wristwatch, it was the only jewelry she ever wore). Thweeeeeeeet!

“Late again, Keefer!” Miss Blount snarled. “What’s your excuse this time?”

The 19 year old senior shrugged and flashed a winsome smile at the dour woman. A ripple of nervous giggles and laughter erupted from a couple girls standing nearby. “Geez, Miss Blount, I–“

“You know what, Keefer, just CAN IT!” Miss Blount snapped. “I don’t want to hear it!” The prodigious woman let out an exasperated sigh. The short, blunt locks of her bowl cut shimmied as she furiously scribbled something into her grade book. Her hair, the color of light sand, distracted Shari while she looked on. The style made her look more severe; more butch. Her classmates thought it looked stupid, and would loudly say so from time to time. Usually in the safe chaos of the halls or the cafeteria during lunch, away from the earshot of any nosy teachers.

“What are you writing? I just dropped my bracelet on the stairs and I realized I had to go to the bathroom!” The laughter was contagious. It spread quickly, bouncing off the glazed brick walls and polished wood floor. Thweeeeeeeet! “Okay, ladies, that’s ENOUGH!” Miss Blount bellowed. “Ten laps, Keefer, and if you give me any more lip, I’ll add a couple dozen pushups to get my point across!” Shari’s mouth fell open. She was about to say something when the whistle pierced her eardrums again. “HUSTLE!”

“Ol’ Miss Blount had about enough of you to last a lifetime, girl!” Adele Hopson shouted. The slender, sable-skinned senior laughed and held up her middle finger to Miss Blount’s back, provoking another outburst of laughter. “What–I didn’t do anything!” She protested before muttering: “You ol’ ugly white bulldyke bitch!” More howls of laughter echoed through the gym, but Shari wasn’t paying any attention. She’d already started her laps.

It was during times like these when Shari found escort london herself stealing glimpses of her gym teacher. Sometimes those glimpses were brief. Other times, the glimpses developed into outright stares provoked by an intense mixture of fascination and disgust over her teacher’s unusual appearance. Miss Blount wasn’t just masculine; she was downright homely! And she was old, although, at the time, Shari wasn’t sure of her age. Plenty of her classmates’ parents attended Talcott as teenagers and said she was a teacher back then.

Over several months, they developed a rapport. It wasn’t intentional, and at first, it started out fairly casual. Shari already had a habit of coming to class late or “forgetting” to put on her gym suit. The waist-hugging one piece suit with elastic leg shorts was made for modesty; the bane of every teenage girl trying to catch the eye of any cute guys passing by. She was supposed to keep it in her locker and take it home to wash it at the end of each week. But she’d forget and plead for lenience and this would always end up with Shari having to complete a make-up session running laps in the gym during lunch or after school to avoid turning a B- or C+ into a D or E.

Back in the present, Shari felt a sudden bloom of heat in her cheeks when she felt Velma’s hand against her face. “You’ve been awful quiet since dinner.” The older woman observed. “Still a little shy too. Something on your mind?” The bedroom was dark, but the light cast from the hallway that shone in a long thin ribbon was enough to see the bashful little grin on the girl’s face. It was faint, but it was there. Shari shook her head and said: “Just thinking.”

“Hmm, I can just imagine…” Velma replied. “You’ll have to tell me all about it later.”

“Nah, it’s a secret!” Shari softly teased.

“Then I’ll just have to draw it out of you, Keefer!” Velma held Shari, embracing her, and leaned in close for a second or two, before kissing her. Caught off-guard, the girl’s lips parted, sucking in a shallow gulp of air. Their lips brushed together and their mouths made contact. The young beauty’s eyes widened in shock when Velma slipped her tongue inside. Her eyes slowly closed and she let out a sigh, aware of the vibrant tingling sensation tickling the space between her legs. The sensation grew stronger, spreading with each kiss they shared. Another sensation, like vertigo, took over when she felt the large strong palm of Velma’s hand snaking against her thigh and the curve of her shapely little hips.

“What are you doing?”

Velma broke the kiss and firmly nudged the girl a little closer to the bed. “Just admiring the view, honey.” She said, eyes flashing with a ravenous glint in the dim light. The slim giantess loomed over Shari. She looked hungry, like she hadn’t eaten for days. Velma had a busy week since she’d recently taken on a student teacher from Lake Forest College for the semester. Shari’s week was equally hectic. She’d been working on a research paper for her class in Educational Philosophy, and she had a test on Monday in her Principals of Advanced Statistics class. Both agreed they were due for a quiet night in with dinner at home. Shari decided she wanted to surprise Velma tonight; knock her socks off. She knew it would be well received.

After dinner, Velma settled on the sofa in front of the TV. As usual, she had a beer in her hand while she watched Carol Burnett bellowing out her trademark Tarzan call for the nth time. She rolled her eyes and started to get up to change the channel when Shari blocked the screen. “Hoo, boy…I take it that’s for me!” She gushed before taking an almost too big gulp of her beer.

Now, in the shroud of darkness, Shari stood there in Velma’s arms. The towering slim butch took in the sight of her young wife’s elegant negligee. The long lacy and silken gown with its plunging neckline and barely there straps teased the sensuous swell of her breasts and left little to the imagination. Not that Velma minded. The old dyke’s salacious gaze was drawn to the little lace panties underneath the gossamer fabric. “Unghh!” The captive girl gasped when she felt the palm of her lover’s hands caressing her, stroking her. The tingling bubbled up. A swath of goosebumps prickled Shari’s skin. She felt so vulnerable and exposed! And the more she got to know Miss Blount when she was still in high school, it was a feeling she began to crave…

“Hold me…” Shari sighed, realizing her mind and body were back in the present again. “I’ll go nice and slow, honey.” Velma reassured her young wife. The lovers kissed once more. Their tongues cavorted in a lazy tango as their bodies swayed to the phantom melody of an imagined love song. Shari put her arms around the butch woman’s neck and swayed her hips seductively, staring into her eyes. The long, free-flowing skirt of her negligee swung tantalizingly outward from side to side. The old dyke glanced down, eyes fixed on the curves of her young wife’s dubai escorts diminutive frame. “Those panties are gonna have to go…now!”

Velma liked to undress Shari slowly. Savor the moment. The girl’s panties always came last, sliding effortlessly over her shapely hips and down her slender legs after the negligee had been tossed aside. “God, you’re so beautiful!” Velma’s voice seethed. There was an overt breathlessness in her voice. Her hoary blue eyes stared through the darkness in silent awe, gliding listlessly along the girl’s tight little curves. The enormous palms of her hands did the same, registering youthful nudity and silky smooth skin. She drank it all in; gulping it as greedily as her after dinner beer.

But Shari liked to tease. She liked to play hard to get, especially with her old gym teacher. Since her senior year in high school, Shari learned, and appreciated, the idea of contrast. Tall and short, butch and femme, young and old. She’d grown to love how two extremes can feed off each other. One influences the other. At first it is hidden; a secret needing to be kept because some things (like a hard butch woman) have an acquired taste. It’s the same way a piquant cheese will make a sweet wine taste even sweeter. Shari learned that teasing and acting shy was always something that Velma found very titillating and sexy. As always, the lovemaking that resulted after made Shari’s pleasure more intense and satisfying.

“Don’t shrink away from me, honey, hands to your sides.” Velma’s curt voice simmered. She reached for Shari’s wrists, pulling her arms down. The girl averted her gaze. Her expression reflected its usual charming mixture of shame and arousal. It was a perfect simulacrum of reluctance and conflicting emotions. “So beautiful…” Velma brushed the girl’s hair aside and caressed her face. They shared another deep, soulful kiss.

The mattress creaked bearing the weight of their gyrating bodies as they tumbled into bed. In a tangle of feverish flesh and rumpled clothes, the lovers kissed and embraced. Velma playfully slapped Shari’s hand away when she felt the tug of her shirt being freed from the waistband of her dark corduroy slacks. “In good time, Shari berry.” The old dyke teased. Velma wanted to remain fully clothed as long as possible. She, too, enjoyed contrast. A whimper erupted from the girl’s mouth when Velma pressed her lips and tongue against her neck. Shari, pinned beneath her, sighed and uttered a declaration of love. The whispered words seemed more like a magical incantation; a divine command to continue.

And who was Velma Blount to deny such a command?

Soft sighs penetrated the darkness, echoing the quietly creaking mattress. Velma moved lower, kissing a trail along the curvature of Shari’s slim neck and lovely collarbone. The towering butch paused long enough to draw deeply the scent of Shari’s new perfume. Coty Styx. She picked it up last week while shopping at the Harmony Heights Mall. Top notes of bergamot, oak moss, and sandalwood, among others, tickled the butch woman’s nostrils and filled her mind with dirty thoughts. She lingered for a moment near the girl’s shoulder, delivering a reverent kiss before moving on.

Velma’s hands became restless while her lips plotted a trail between Shari’s breasts. The girl’s mouth fell open and her eyes were closed. She sucked in a breath and held it for a second, anticipating the older woman’s next move. “Yeah…stay there for a bit…” She breathed. “This feel okay, honey?” Velma asked. Her large palm closed over Shari’s left breast. “Yesss…” The girl sighed, and Velma softly chuckled.

Shari’s breasts quivered with each breath the girl drew. The small fleshy globes were, indeed, no more than a handful. But they were a perfect fit as far as Velma was concerned. Small pebbled areolas, tightened around twin rosy nubs. The girl’s creamy fair skin felt hot and responded instantly to the butch woman’s gentle touch. “Unggh…” Shari sighed again, this time, a little louder. “I love you so much…”

“My beautiful little wife…” Velma murmured. She pressed her mouth against the base of that sensuous little swell while her free hand cupped the other. Moving up, the old dyke kissed lightly around the shriveled areola. A loud gasp prickled the skin around Velma’s ear as her tongue whirled around the distended little nipple before closing her mouth over it entirely. She suckled while her free hand squeezed the other breast, teasing the nipple with nimble fingertips.

This time, a soft little moan erupted from the girl’s plump little lips. Velma shuddered, feeling her already painfully erect nipples straining fiercely against the pitifully flat A cups of her bra. God, it’s so hot in here! She wanted to get her shirt and bra off, but the sight of her young wife laying there helpless–writhing underneath her–naked, while she still had her clothes on, was driving her nearly insane! She reached up and roughly tugged at the collar of her shirt Escort Dubai before straddling the gorgeous young blond. “Oh, my!”

Velma’s eyes widened almost comically before letting out a trembling moan. The crotch seam of her cordoroys pushed upward, rubbing against her center while she straddled the girl. Her lean, powerful thighs clamped against Shari’s sides for a second and she heard the girl laugh. “You fucking little slut, you got me so worked up right now!” The butch growled through clenched teeth. “I’m gonna eat you alive, you know that–I’m–” She sucked in her breath and held it for a second, trying to center herself. Shari opened her mouth to say something before Velma cut her off. “Say NOTHING, little girl. Just do your wifely duty and lay STILL!”

The old dyke pawed the girl’s breasts as she slid backward. She settled on her stomach and reluctantly withdrew her hands from Shari’s breasts. “I think you already know what happens to pretty little girls who tease.” Velma forced Shari’s thighs apart, exposing every inch of her youthful beauty to her lustful gaze. The heat was getting worse and Velma felt the dampness between her legs spreading while the skin prickled and tingled along the nape of her neck. She tugged at the collar of her shirt once more. The act seemed to bring her back to the present task. “My baby’s so glad to see me…so nice and wet…”

Shari’s cleft parted, revealing the gleaming slit of fleshy petals; the bloom of natural, unadulterated beauty. Even in the shadows, Velma saw the flush of delicate rose pink peeking through the carpet of light golden curls modestly covering the girl’s mound. The old dyke kissed the insides of Shari’s milky thighs, moving lazily upward. She drew a long breath, holding and savoring the natural, earthy aroma of youthful arousal and desire. She breathed again and again, and finally pressed her mouth against the tight damp curls of pubic hair. The gasp that followed was sudden and very loud, indicating the girl’s obvious pleasure.

“I’m gonna eat you, honey.” Velma seethed between kisses. “I’m gonna devour you till there’s nothing left!” Shari could only reply with a low, wavering moan.

But words weren’t needed, only action. The tip of Velma’s tongue traced along the hairy cleft. An oral cotillion of swirls and pirouettes followed, with steady tempo, as the old dyke feasted on her young wife’s pussy. Velma’s large hands snaked upward, over Shari’s toned belly. Her fingertips grazed the girl’s navel, watching her tummy rise and fall with each trembling breath. She pulled in closer now, positioning her shoulders under her lover’s thighs and gazed for a few fleeting moments at the dewy little tea rose between her pretty legs.

The old dyke drew another deep breath–that scent! She leaned in, kissing the inside of Shari’s right thigh, then gently dragging the tip of her tongue along the inside of her left. Velma, deciding she’d waited long enough, tasted her with the flat of her tongue. “Ahhh!” The sound of Shari’s sudden, delighted gasp was music to her ears!

Good things come to those who wait…

That flow, that gushing, juicy wetness was so abundant, so utterly gratifying! Velma wrapped her arms around Shari’s legs, pulling the helpless girl closer to her face. She pressed her lips fully against the heated bloom, kissing and burying her tongue in those tasty little folds. Here, the earthy tang was stronger and more primal. Velma’s tongue raced laps around and around; her tongue executing another pirouette to the sounds of her lover’s moans. Shari, loving this, wanted to be closer to her wife, as if she could never get close enough. Her shapely little hips performed a dance of their own, grinding against the old dyke’s face. Those rugged features, became an instrument, used now to bring about the sensations she felt to a mighty crescendo.

Velma flicked her tongue across Shari’s little pearl, teasing and tickling, before inserting a couple fingers into her slick center. Now the girl’s moan rose into a pleasure-filled shriek, the middle aged butch felt her young wife’s gasp quicker and faster. Soon, her walls clamped tightly around Velma’s fingers until finally she released in a succulent explosion that left the old dyke’s face shiny with juices and her thin lips freely drooling. Shari lay still except for the shallow rise and fall of her chest as she struggled to steady her breathing. Her eyes remained closed; face in a dreamlike state. A contented smile stretched across her lips as the waves of her body’s aftershock still shook her. “Velma…”

“Shhh, baby, rest.” Velma rose up and put the tip of her finger against the girl’s lips. Shari could smell it, the strong aroma of her musk. Shhh, this’ll be our secret, Keefer… Indeed, another secret shared. “What happened?” Shari softly teased. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’d been hit by a train–Midnight Express!” Velma quipped. “Wet the bed a little too…oh, dear!” She observed, noting the wet spot on the fitted sheet between Shari’s legs. The mattress creaked and jerked beneath Shari as Velma got off the bed. The gorgeous young blond shifted the pillow underneath her head and watched her powerful butch wife undress.

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