What a Long, Strange Trip It's Been

"Well ..." We looked at each other, then turned away again.

She reached between my legs and felt my hard cock. She took one last drag off the cigarette, then pulled my cock free and sucked me off. She swallowed every drop of it.

"Are your parents staying over after graduation?" she asked me.

"Actually, they surprised me with a Carnivale cruise as a graduation present," I answered, "so we're leaving out just as soon as the ceremony is over." She said nothing. "Um, why don't you look into buying a ticket?" I suggested.

"School may have ended for you, but I still have end-of-semester administrative duties," she replied. "Sorry."

"I'll be back next Friday. Can I see you then?"

"Yes, but be prepared for the punishment I mete out. It's not wise to abandon your mistress."

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then. You know, on stage?"

"Yes. Tomorrow," she said. "Enjoy your trip."

As I exited her home, I didn't like the feel the conversation left in me.

I called my employer first thing the following morning and told him of the cruise. He said he would have to move some people around, but he thought he could do without me for a week. I thanked him, then I met my parents for breakfast. Dad reprimanded me for not calling like he told me to, but when I explained I wasn't free until after midnight his demeanor changed.

Graduation began at eleven, and by two it was finished. Darla Gibbons, the woman who beat me out for Valedictorian, gave a very nice speech, as did the others. Our guest speaker was former Atlanta Braves pitcher Tom Glavine, who told us that the only thing that would ever keep us from succeeding was ourselves. I tried to make my way through the crowd to Ms. Ibanex before she got away, but Mrs. Sherman latched onto me and said, "See you tomorrow." I smiled and nodded, turned back, and Ms. Ibanex was nowhere to be seen.

We flew to Miami, boarded the ship, and I had the most amazing time of my life, not counting sex with Ms. Ibanex. I missed her, though. I missed her terribly. It was all I could do to not call her while at the same time wondering why she hadn't called me. In that regard the week was long, but again, I had the time of my life. I had plenty of opportunities to hook up while out on the open seas. Several women and even a few guys threw themselves at me, but they weren't who I wanted most.

I returned home Friday at seven. Mom and Dad were facing a ninety-minute layover, so I hung out with them until time to board their plane. We hugged and said our good-byes, and just as they were off back to Pennsylvania, I was off to Ms. Ibanez's house.

I arrived a little before nine, but I decided that since I had been gone a week, she might forgive the breech of protocol. I knocked. I knocked again. I rang the doorbell. I rang it a second time. Finally, I heard, "Who is it?"

"Alan," I responded.

The door opened, and when I did not see the same expectant smile on her face for me that I held for her, mine faltered. I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong, but before I could get the words out of my mouth, she said, "I'm sorry, Alan, but tonight just isn't a good night."

She made to close the door on me, but I halted it, stepped across the threshold, and entered, closing it behind me. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"What's been right with this day?" she offered as a reply as she sat in her spot on the sofa. There was a bottle of Vodka on the coffee table before her. She broke the seal and made to pour it in a glass, but then just turned it up and gulped down five good swallows, then said, "First, I forgot about a department meeting, so I was late for that. Then, someone had the bright idea of calling an emergency meeting so we could attempt to fix all the problems addressed in the initial meeting. Now, keep in mind that I was steadily looking at the clock, because all this just so had to happen on the night of my granddaughter's end of school pageant. I was finally able to make it out of the meeting and to her school where I arrived about mid-way through the thing, and after convincingly hiding all my frustrations of the day from her, I finally made it home. I had just gone back to get a bath when you arrived." She gulped down another few swallows.

I had taken my place on the sofa while she spoke. "Lay back and put your feet up," I said in a soothing voice.

"For what?" she asked.

"Just do it," I said, and she did. I removed each shoe, then each sock, then I began to massage her feet.

"Oh, Lord. That feels good."

I said nothing. I just kept on massaging.

She pulled another few swallows from the bottle, then asked, "Why are you doing this?"

"Because you need it," I answered.

"What I need is a full-body massage," she returned.

"So, let me give you one."

She looked up at me, then said, "Alright. Come on."

She swung her legs off me and stood, but then lost her balance. I caught her. "Careful."

"I'm fine," she said. "Come on." She led me to her bedroom, took another swallow or two from the bottle, and then set it on her nightstand. She then undressed and lay on her belly. "The oil is in that drawer." She absently pointed at the nightstand. I retrieved it. It was the K/Y jelly from before. I squirted some on her shoulder blades and began to work it in. Not too hard, just enough to help her relax. "Mmmmmmm. That feels nice, Alan." I continued to work her shoulders, then I moved to her middle and lower lumbar, then I bypassed her buttocks altogether and went to her ankles. I worked my way up from there, finally massaging her meaty ass cheeks. After a few minutes I told her to turn over, and she did.

I squirted the oil all over her breasts and took my time working it in. A smile was on her face, and it never left the whole time I was rubbing her. I moved to her belly, then, bypassing her pussy, I made my way to her quads, her shins, and her feet before working my way back up again. This time, I massaged her inner thighs really well, then poured a very liberal amount of the oil in my hand and began to rub her vagina. The moment my hand touched it, her legs widened to grant me full access. I gently rubbed her clit for a few minutes, then inserted two fingers inside her. I began slow even as I applied pressure to the pubic arch. I took my time in adding speed and pressure, but soon enough I was moving my fingers in and out of her while I massaged her clit with the forefinger from my other hand.

"Oh, fuck," I heard Ms. Ibanex say. She lifted her hips as she said it again, and soon she was thrusting up and down in complete synchronicity with me. Finally, she cried out, and that is when my palm became drenched with an explosive ejaculation from her.

"Oh, shit," I said in awe of this. I had seen it in many a porno, but I had never experienced one in real life.

"Oh, thank you, Alan. That was just what I needed," Ms. Ibanex said. A moment later and she was sound asleep, that smile still on her face. I covered her with her comforter, then I saw myself out. I didn't see any reason to stay.

Mom called sometime later to tell me she and Dad had made it home safe and sound. I thanked her again for the cruise, told her I loved her, and thanked her and Dad for being the most awesome parents anyone could ever hope to have. She told me that was easy considering how awesome a son I had been, then asked, "What are your plans for the summer?"

"I'm going to work until classes start up again," I told her. "Don't worry, though. I'll be home for Thanksgiving and Christmas."

Since I didn't have to be at work until Monday, I slept in. At nine o'clock my phone rang. It was Ms. Ibanex. With a laugh, she said, "Hi, Alan. Can you remind me what happened last night?" I told her everything. "And you left? Just like that?"

"Yes, ma'am." There was such a long period of silence on her end that I actually said, "Hello? Are you still there?"

"Yes," she quickly said. "Of course." A few more seconds of silence, then, "Would you like to

have dinner with me tonight?"

"Dinner?" I asked. I was shocked at the invitation. "Uh, yes. That would be nice."

"Is five-thirty good for you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"See you then," and she ended the call.

I arrived with a bouquet of flowers, purple and yellow irises. "Oh, they're beautiful," she said as she took them and placed them in a vase. I wanted to tell her that she was beautiful in her yellow and orange dress, but I held my tongue. As she guided me to the kitchen, she said, "A tie and a sport coat. Thank you for dressing appropriately." I honestly did not know how to respond to that, so I said nothing. As I sat at the table, she reached into the oven. "I've been working on this all day. I hope you like it."

She sat upon the stove a roasting pan containing a suckling pig. I had always wanted to try one. "It looks delicious."

"Thank you," she said with a smile. She placed some meat on my plate, then some potatoes and carrots, then set it before me. "Enjoy."

"Not until you are seated," I said.

She fixed her plate, and I held her chair as she sat. She then poured each of us a glass of blush. "What shall we toast to?"

"How about to accepting all the good things life grants us?"

"I like that," she said, then clinked her glass to mine before taking a sip. "So, did you enjoy the cruise?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Alan," she said as she placed one of her hands over mine. "I think it's time you start calling me Lillian."

I raised her hand to my mouth and kissed it. "Lillian." She smiled. I told her of my trip.

As we came to the end of dinner, I said, "I know you won't believe me, but that was one of the finest meals I have ever eaten."

"Thank you, Alan. That means a lot to me. And I do believe you."

I helped her load the dishwasher, then we returned to the living room and sat in our familiar

spots, wine glasses in hand. We spoke for about thirty minutes, then she excused herself and went to the back of the house, to her room. After about ten minutes she called out to me. "Alan?

Can you come here, please?"

I went to her room and stopped immediately when I caught sight of her. She was wearing a blue satin teddy with black lace trim and black thigh-high stockings. "My god, you're beautiful."

She walked to me and we wrapped our arms around one another, then kissed. When I pulled back, she said, "Tonight is the night we make love, Alan. Are you ready for that?"

"I am."

We kissed again, and then she led me to her bed. She carefully removed my clothing, then had me lay down. She lay atop me and we kissed some more, then she moved down and took my cock into her mouth, sucking it slowly and lovingly. After a few minutes she returned her mouth to mine, then I gently flipped her. I kissed my way down, and once I had reached Tinkerbell a thought struck me. This wasn't Mistress Ibanex, this was Lillian. Mistress Ibanex liked sex hard and fast and rough, therefore, wouldn't it stand to reason that Lillian would like it soft and slow and loving? I put all my eggs in that basket and gently took her clit into my mouth.

I swirled my tongue ever-so-slowly around it while simultaneously gently rubbing it with my bottom lip. "Oh, Alan. I am at complete peace when I'm with you." She said this as she gently ran her fingers through my hair. It triggered such an emotional response in me that I felt like I could cry.

I moved up and placed my lips against hers as I slowly entered her. Our twin moans of ecstasy filled the room. I moved excruciatingly slow, and within five minutes she wrapped her arms around my neck as she said, "Oh, I'm so close." I continued, never deviating from my delivery. She arched her back, let out a small cry, and her pussy became about fifty times wetter than it had been.

I continued on in this vein, and about every three to four minutes she would have another, and another, until finally, after about twenty minutes, I announced my own oncoming orgasm. She placed her hands on my ass and held me in place, letting me know it was okay to cum inside her. I did, and then I kissed her and told her she was beautiful. She wrapped my head in her arms and held me to her heaving bosom.

I moved up and kissed her once again, then I rolled to my side. We lay there in silence for about a minute, then she reached into her night stand and brought out her cigarettes. She handed them to me along with the lighter. I lit them and handed one back. She placed an ashtray on her belly, but I took it and placed it on mine. She smiled. Nothing was said.

When we finished, she returned the ashtray and lighter to the nightstand, then said, "When did you first know you loved me?"

"You know," I said after about ten seconds of silence.

"I do," she agreed. "I knew at that very moment that you loved me."

"What makes it so weird is that it happened, like, over the course of one week, Lillian. One week, and I already knew I loved you."

She laughed a bit. "Before that, I believed you to be infatuated or even be suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, but at that moment, when you went down on Kimiko, I knew you loved me. Want to know something, though? I can easily say that that was when I knew I loved you as well, but I fought it. Then you ditched your parents for me. For me, Alan, and I knew just what you were willing to sacrifice to be with me. But then the night you returned from the cruise? You saw the state I was in, and what was your solution to it? You massaged my feet. At that point I knew I couldn't fight it any longer. If you had offered to go down on me ... anything but simply massage my feet, it would have been the only excuse I needed to say this was bullshit, but you massaged my feet, Alan, and to top it off, you didn't try to take advantage of me when I passed out. That means so much to me. You mean so much to me, and since I haven't officially said it, I love you, Alan."

"I love you so much," I said in return. "Just ... please don't hurt me, Lillian. With the amount of love I have for you, it would crush me if you ever hurt me."

"Oh, baby," she said as she once again cradled me to her. "I'll never hurt you. I promise with all my heart." We began to kiss once again, which led to making love once again. Once we were through, "Will you stay the night?"

"I'd stay forever if you asked me to."

She smiled, kissed me, and took me into her arms once again, and that is how we fell asleep.

Sunday morning. We were up at eight-thirty. After another session of making love slowly and sweetly, we lay in bed, enjoying our after-sex cigarette. "I'd like to ask you something, if I may."

"Sure," she said. "Anything."

"What was wrong with you when I took your class?"

"Was something wrong with me?"

"Well, for lack of a better word, you were a ..."

"Bitch?" she asked when I didn't finish my sentence.

I laughed. "You know we called you 'Ol' Lady Ironbox,' don't you?"

"You did not!" she said as she playfully slapped at my arm.

"Oh, we did," I assured her. "Just ask around. Ask Robin. She'll tell you."

"Where does 'Ironbox' come from?"

"Ibanex? Ironbox?" I responded. "Cold, unforgiving, impenetrable. It was always 'sink or swim' in your class."

"There's two reasons for that," she said after mulling it over. "The first is that I was just getting out of an abusive relationship with my now ex-husband. I'm not proud to say this, but I took my personal problems to work with me. For that, I'm sorry. The other, though? Life very rarely hands anyone a second chance. My philosophy has always been that one should put forth his or her best effort the first time out. A lot of kids—and yes, they are kids—enter college thinking it's all fun and games. An employer will not accept mediocrity. With an employer, it very literally is sink or swim. I don't apologize for that."

"And there's no need to," I said, "but if you could have just explained it to us like that ..."

"Again, the personal problems," she responded, "but I am sorry. Forgive me?"

"Of course," I said, then I kissed her before asking, "So, this abusive ex of yours. Did that experience give birth to Mistress Ibanex?"

"It did. I was angry, and so many men were willing to pay me to take it out on them."

"So, did you ever ... You know ... With them?"

"No, Alan. You are the first. Please believe that."

"I do. Just ... with me, how did this get started?"

"I found out quite by accident that Edna—Sherman?—had been doing that for years, making male and female students alike go down on her if they needed any special favors. When I first discovered it, I became fascinated by her getting away with it for almost thirty years. She asked if I'd like to be part of the next one, and I was so curious that I said yes. It just so happens that you were the next. Now, I have a question for you. Why did you come to my office and ask to continue what began in Edna's office?"

"Tinkerbell."

"Tinkerbell?" she asked. "My Tink?"

"I felt that if you had that kind of tattoo, you couldn't be as bad as we all thought. Besides, I liked the idea of giving up control to you. I liked the way you abused me. You never sought to hurt me, just ... That's why I told you to slap me. If you had hit me like Jada had, I would have ended it right there, but you didn't. You took care even though you were abusing me. Oh! And let us not forget the green apple whatever it is. Lotion? Bath oil?"

"Bath oil."

"It's so damned intoxicating."

"Well, I don't think we have to worry about Mistress Ibanex anymore."

"Well, hold on, now," I quickly said. "While I do prefer the softer, sweeter Lillian to Mistress Ibanex, let's not send her out to pasture just yet. I'd still like to see her from time to time."

"For you, anytime, anyplace, anywhere."

"Couple of more questions?" I asked.

"Sure."

"Number one: I assume there won't be a problem with where I came?"

"I had my tubes tied, so no."

"Number two: What happens to us when school starts again? Do we hide that we are a couple?"

"Let me check on that tomorrow," she answered. "I think as long as I am not your direct line of contact insofar as matters of academia are concerned then we should be okay."

"One last question: Will you promise me that our age difference will never be an issue for you?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Good, because I love you and I never want to be without you."

After breakfast we talked some more, getting to know each other better. It was the little things, like favorite color, movie, music genre ... things like that. As noon approached, I said, "I guess I'll be going."

"Really? Don't you want to stay for dinner? There are plenty of leftovers."

"I can always come back," I replied. "I just don't want you to get tired of me too quickly."

"Trust me when I say I don't see that happening. Ever."

"Well, if you're sure."

"I am, and I have something for you. Wait right here." She stood from the sofa and made her way to her room. I wondered for a second if she were going to return as Mistress Ibanex or if she had another teddy she wanted to show off. It was neither, but she surprised me just the same. "I'm really sorry about the last one. Here."

It was a Van Heusen, same as the one she ripped from me. I accepted it. "Thank you."

She snuggled next to me, took the shirt, and placed it on the coffee table. "I'd like to discuss one more thing with you, if I may."

"Okay."

"Since my divorce, I have explored my bi side. I really enjoy being with another woman. I'm not saying that I have to have it, but it would be nice to do that every now and again."

"Oh, yeah. Sure," I quickly answered. "Just let me know when you need the time alone and I'll stay away."

"Thank you." She looked up at me. "That doesn't intimidate you?"

"You told me you love me. I'm secure enough with that so as not to be intimidated."