Curves for the Principal (Interracial Erotic Romance)

by Rogers, Rene

  I went in to see how Lawrence was faring and found him still very much asleep. It almost looked as if he hadn't moved since I left him the night before. I laid the back of my hand against his forehead and he stirred. I couldn't really tell if the fever had broken so I gave his forehead the 'lip test' as a thermometer was one thing I forgot to bring. I can tell much more about a person's temperature with my lips than my hands. I pressed my mouth against his forehead and gratefully concluded that his fever had broken in the night.

  He stirred and I backed away, not wanting him to know that I had been taking his temperature with a kiss. His eyes fluttered open and for a moment he seemed confused to find me standing over him.

  "Brenda…you're still here?"

  "I nodded off on the couch and the next thing I knew it was sunrise."

  Lawrence sat bolt upright in bed. "Your car's been in the driveway all night?" He looked panicked.

  "Lawrence you've got a bad case of paranoia. Your 'enemies' are not driving past your house at all hours trying to spot a strange car parked in your driveway." I was a little put out at his attitude. "I would think you'd be more concerned about your health than me spending the night on your couch.'

  "You're right, of course. It's just that I've been thinking so much about you…I guess I imagine that everyone can see the desire and desperation on my face. I am paranoid. I think that everyone who sees us knows."

  "It's just a stupid school board rule. Stop beating yourself up over it. It isn't like we cheated on our spouses or committed some actual crime." I was irritated at his rigid adherence to a rule I considered nonsense but at the same time thrilled that he couldn't get me off his mind. "No one knows," I reassured him.

  "I'm making a mountain out of a mole hill?"

  "I think so. Now, how are you feeling this morning?"

  "Much better. I think the soup was the turning point."

  "There are lots of scientific reasons why chicken soup is therapeutic. I'm glad it helped. Are you hungry now?"

  "Famished."

  "A good sign. Your body wants fuel so it can heal. I'll fix you some breakfast."

  "There's not much in the kitchen. I think there may be some eggs."

  "I'll find something, you just stay there and relax."

  "You're an angel, Brenda. Thanks."

  I smiled over my shoulder as I left the room and went to the kitchen to rustle up whatever I could find for a decent breakfast. I scrambled some eggs with some cheese I salvaged by trimming a moldy block and sautéed a couple of past their prime apples with butter and cinnamon. There was some bacon in the freezer that I thawed quickly in the microwave. One lonely English muffin was left in the fridge and I toasted that up. All in all, a decent breakfast.

  Lawrence gobbled it down. The gray cast had already left his face and his eyes had lost that sunken look because he was no longer as dehydrated. He thanked my profusely for caring for him.

  "I really appreciate your attention. I can't believe you went to all this trouble for me. You're very kind."

  "I care about you," I told him. "In spite of what I promised you, I can't just turn off feelings simply by denying they exist. If anything, not being able to find out what you and I might become makes me want you even more."

  "Having you take care of me felt…well, right in so many ways," he said sadly.

  "Look, right now is not the time to sort through any of this. Let's just get you back on your feet and see what happens."

  "Brenda I'm still not--"

  "Just leave it alone for now, will you?" I didn't want to discuss the silliness of a rule that in my opinion begged to be broken, at least by us. "Do you feel up for a shower? I'll change your sheets while you bathe."

  "You're too kind."

  "That's true," I smiled. "All my patients tell me so."

  Lawrence went into his bathroom and closed the door. I tried not to think about his naked body under the hot water or how great it would feel to slip in there beside him. By the time I finished making up the bed he came out, towel around his waist. He had even shaved. He went into his closet and put on a pair of boxers and a T-shirt. I could partially see his body in the full length mirror on the closet door. The sight of even half of his fine ass was enough to do me in. I felt like I should be running from the room.

  He sat down in one of the two big wingback chairs that formed a little seating area in the bay window and motioned for me to take the other one.

  "It feels great to be out of that bed. It was all I could do just to shower. I never realized that a few days of the flu could weaken me so."

  "Don’t make the mistake of trying to do too much for the next few days. You could easily put yourself in the hospital." He gave me a doubtful smirk. "I am completely serious. Dehydration and probably bronchitis bordering on pneumonia is nothing to take lightly."

  "I don't think my body is going to let me do much of anything. I'm fighting the urge to go back to sleep right now."

  "Then do it! That's just what you need."

  "I will shortly. But would you just sit and talk with me a while?"

  Such a simple request. People sit and talk every day. Somehow, though, it meant so much more at that moment, with that man. My heart did a little happy dance because he wanted my company. We talked for about a couple of hours. It was banal, ordinary conversation about everything from our childhood to favorite foods. He told me he'd been divorced for five years, dated only occasionally and spent a lot of time at the gym to avoid an empty house more than anything. While he was certain that the decision to divorce was best for he and his ex wife, sometimes he wondered if the loneliness was worth it.

  I told him about my life in Chicago and how difficult it had been to try to raise Missy all by myself for the past ten years. Her father and I had separated before he was killed in a drilling accident on an oil rig. Although I rarely admitted it to anyone I found myself talking to Lawrence about how guilty I had felt when he died and how I would always wonder if he would have even considered the oil job if we'd been getting along.

  We talked about our work and how much we loved being part of the lives of young people. We both agreed that we would choose high school over any other age group. We talked about Florida, where Lawrence grew up and about my childhood in the Midwest.

  Finally, I could see that he was really beginning to tire. I sensed that he was trying to keep the conversation going simply to have me keep him company. The thought warmed me, but my concern for his health was greater.

  I literally tucked him into bed. I put my hand on his forehead one more time to feel for fever, but there was none. Lawrence reached up and held my hand to his cheek for a second and then gave the palm a lingering, soft kiss.

  "Thank you so much for coming here and taking care of me. You've helped me feel so much better." His smile was genuine and sweet. I leaned over and kissed him lightly on the forehead and made a hasty exit before I took things too far. It was time to go.

  ***

  He was back at work on Monday, much to my dismay. I thought he should have taken more time to recover considering how sick he had been. I didn't get much more than a glimpse of him for the next few days as he was busy trying to catch up after his week long absence.

  The school empties out very quickly on Friday afternoon. There are no activities for the students and the teachers are all anxious to start their weekends. I had tidied up the infirmary and was about to lock up when I heard a tap at the door.

  "Brenda?" I caught my breath as he said my name. I was behind the fabric divider and quickly smoothed my skirt and did a little fluff of the baby curls that escaped around my face. I tried to remain cool and composed. But when I rounded the divider to greet him, I saw him lock the door behind him. He turned and just stood with his back to the door, a look of lust and mischief on his face.

  Without another word, Lawrence came over to me and wrapped his arms around me. He stood that way for a moment, holding me close. My head was on his chest and I gratefully br
eathed in the scent of this giant of a man who so embraced my every sense. When he kissed me I locked onto his mouth with the urgency of denied desire--so keen, so sharp, so powerful. I felt his cock harden against my body as we kissed and our hands wandered purposefully over ever part of each other we could reach.

  He reached under my skirt and slipped his fingers beneath the thin fabric of my thong. "You're such a good nurse," he murmured in my ear. "I thought it should be your turn to have your temperature taken." With that he slid his finger inside of me and swirled it in my moistness. Watching him bring the finger to his mouth and suck my juices from it was one of the sexiest things I'd ever seen a man do.

  I fumbled with his belt and fly until I could finally work his stiff dick free. I could hardly get my hands around it. I wanted to bring him pleasure, I wanted to show him that his body was so beautiful to me and that I craved it in every way. I lowered myself to my knees and worshipped his mammoth cock with my mouth. My mouth stretched around the head and I leaned forward to receive as much of the shaft as I possibly could. I smelled the musky scent of his heat and it fueled my own need. I slathered my hand with my spit and used one hand to rub his lower shaft and I worked his balls with the other. His nuts were heavy in my hand, the furry sack undulating with the pace of his arousal.

  Lawrence began to groan and fisted my hair with both hands. He began to forcefully move my head back and forth into his crotch. I gagged once or twice as his swollen head hit the back of my throat and tears ran from my eyes. He fucked my face that way briefly before he shuffled over to the examining table, dropped his trousers and bent me over the table in front of him.

  He entered me with great force. The feeling of having him ram that huge cannon inside me without preamble took my breath away. I was amazed at the power with which he pushed himself in and out of my pussy. With each stroke, he gave a grunt of pleasure and exertion. He lightly slapped my ass cheeks with his huge hand and it took me by surprise. The next time he did it I explored the sweet sting of that unexpected touch and found that the idea of him spanking my ass excited me much more than I would have imagined.

  I could feel him move into the urgent pace of orgasm. He grabbed my hips and slammed himself against my splayed pussy. He began to make the noises of complete release as he shot his load into me. The knowledge that he was pouring into me sent me into a glorious, shattering orgasm. I bit into the paper on the table to muffle the scream that wanted to escape as I felt convulsions of pleasure surround his cock and milk out the last drops of his cum.

  Lawrence collapsed against the table beside me, taking great gulps of air. I turned my head and watched his chest heave up and down.

  "I can't stay away from you," he panted. "I just can't. This week has been hell."

  "For me too. All I did all week was think about how to convince you that we can pull this off. I know you're worried about getting caught."

  "Actually, I find I'm more worried about getting you," he smiled beautifully and a little sadly as if he had resigned himself to some sweet but ultimately painful conclusion.

  "Let's make a deal. We'll keep this completely away from school. This is the first and only time we let ourselves get carried away here."

  "Sounds good so far."

  "But on weekends anything goes. We get to see each other in the privacy of our homes and if we want to go out, we go into Tampa so we're not likely to be spotted together."

  "No one needs to know."

  "That's right. It's our little secret."

  Lawrence smiled and pulled my hand toward his still engorged cock. "Maybe not so little."

  ***

  The only fly in the ointment was Missy. For the next several weeks we found ways for me to be at his house if Missy was home or at mine if she was out with friends. There were two big reasons to keep her in the dark about us. Missy had a tendency to get very involved with any man I was romantically connected with. She was my best buddy and she loved me dearly. As she had gotten older and had a couple boyfriends of her own, she realized how lonely I must be. So every guy that came along became 'the one' for me in my daughter's eyes. I think she was keenly aware that soon she'd be on her own and she wanted to know that I had someone to love and care for when she left the nest.

  The second reason was that she was seventeen and had a natural tendency to love gossip. And transferring to a new school her senior year was rough. Having your mom date the principal would be too compelling a magnet for her to pass by. I could see her getting a lot of mileage with her peers with this 'secret'. Obviously it wouldn't be a secret very long when high school girls got a hold of it.

  For the first time in my life I began to see why adulterous affairs are so exciting. I'd been as faithful as an old hound to Missy's father, but I had a good friend confide in me when she had the affair that ended her marriage. I could feel, with Lawrence, a bit of what she must have felt.

  We'd go into Tampa and being able to hold hands while walking down the street in broad daylight was more of a thrill than it would have been without the pressure of staying 'secret' during the week. One night when Lawrence was in my bed my daughter, who never comes home early, decided to call it a night. If we hadn't been so paranoid and had Lawrence park half a block away, she'd have known someone was in the house with me. As it was, he had to hide in my room until nearly two a.m. when she finally got off the internet and went to bed.

  But that got old. I began to resent the fact that I had to hide a relationship that was perfectly legitimate because some bunch of old farts had a corncob up their ass about 'fraternization'. If I bitched about it, Lawrence got defensive. He was kind of a stickler for rules, being a principal and all. But, all of his other qualities more than compensated for his slightly anal take on the world.

  In addition to being a stunning lover, I found out over the weeks and months that passed, Lawrence was also quite a romantic. He was quick with any gesture that would have said I love you if we were saying I love you--which we weren't. We were at that stage where we told each other how much we loved touching each other, or how much we loved spending time together but something held back the actual 'I love you'. For my part, I had promised myself that I would never be the first to say it after I scared off a guy by jumping the gun. I told him I loved him and he said he wasn't ready to say that yet and from there it was so downhill.

  So, I waited for what I knew would eventually happen and enjoyed the ride. One Friday, Lawrence arrived a half hour early for our night of grilled steaks by the pool. He presented me with flowers that I knew had come from an actual florist. They were too unusual to be the supermarket bouquet buy. There were too many of them too.

  "I'm going to have a hard time explaining this bouquet to Missy, sweetheart," I told him. "She knows I'd never splurge on flowers like this." He explained how he had picked them out, stem by stem because this one reminded him of my hair, that one reminded him of my lips, that one my breasts, another had petals like my pussy lips. Who could resist that approach?

  He had brought an expensive bottle of Merlot to go with the steaks and he went right to work getting the fire started. I watched him through the kitchen window as he grilled the steaks and realized that something would have to give, and soon. I wanted more of this man in my life.

  I hardly remember dinner which is a shame because I had set a beautiful table and the menu was superb. Unfortunately, we just couldn't keep our hands to ourselves. As it often did, our desire took center stage and shoved everything else aside.

  After dinner we went out and sat in the big chairs by the pool. I had turned all the lights off except the ones in the water which cast everything in a romantic blue glow. I brought a couple of snifters of brandy out and set them on the side table.

  I reached down and stroked Lawrence's shoulders and massage their broad expanse. His muscles were taut and hard against my fingers. I traced my fingers down his neck and began to unbutton his shirt slowly. I pinched one of his onyx colored nipples and twisted it in my f
ingers. He gasped at the small pleasure pain and I worked the other one into a matching erection with the first.

  I released his buckle and fumbled the zipper down. As always, it was hard to get his cock out of his pants once he'd begun to swell. I began to play with his hardening dick. I never cease to marvel at the engineering that goes into a man's penis. What a truly amazing organ it is. It gives me a thrill to feel him get hard in my hands on the rare occasions when he isn't massively erect by the time his clothes hit the floor. I ran my finger across the drop that appeared on the tip and rubbed it over the soft, soft skin of his cockhead.

  Lawrence shucked off his loafers and shorts and brought me around the chair to face him. I had dressed lightly for the night so that all he had to do was pull my shift over my head and strip off my bra and panties. He pulled me down onto his lap and kissed each of my nipples, twirling his tongue in wet, wine scented circles around each one. Lawrence pulled on the erections that sprang up at his touch and made me gasp when he blew on my wet tips shriveling the areoles even further.

  I rose up slightly and guided his cock into my pussy. I'd been dripping with anticipation all night long and I closed my eyes as I lowered myself onto his stiff shaft. I felt full up to my belly with the big man's big sword and I began to impale myself on it again and again.

  We pummeled into one another and our voices joined one another in grunts of exertion and groans of ecstasy. I pushed my clit hard against his pubic bone and quickly built up to a crescendo of small screams of impending orgasm. He pulled me against him and with my hips in his hands he rocked me in tight circles against the base of his cock.

  "That's it baby, use my dick. Ride that sucker hard." He urged me on knowing that his voice had the power to send me over the edge.

  "Now…now….now!" I half cried, half growled at him.