The Teacher

Note from the author:

This is another age-gap romance story.  I hope it is realistic and enjoyable.

 

Willow Morrison had been a schoolteacher for twenty years now.  She loved the work, and she loved her students.  Their progress was her reward, and immersing herself in the education and refinement of young minds had greatly helped her after the death of her husband, Brett.

Darling Brett—a man any woman would die to call her own.  Mature and handsome, he had been the image of culture, intellect, and wisdom.  They had married when he was thirty-one and she twenty.  Right after WWII ended, he had arrived in Marsh City to expand his airplane manufacturing company.  There he ran into the ladylike schoolmarm, Willow, and quickly set out to court her.  Their romance was deep and true, and for fifteen years they thrived in a marriage many envied and tried to copy.

Tragedy struck when Brett was caught in the crossfire of a bank holdup one summer.  He attempted to protect a female teller, and his move triggered one of the thugs to fire his gun.  A major firefight erupted, resulting in several other bank patrons suffering injury.  Brett died a few hours later from the bullet he took close to his heart.

Willow lived that moment over all the time, feeling her husband’s limp body clasped in her arms as she held him.  He had breathed so faintly and seemed so weak and far away.  Only at the last second did he say, “I love you, darling wife.  And I’ll ask the Lord to keep you in His arms.”  Then he slipped into eternity, leaving her to weep alone.

That was five years ago.  The pain had greatly healed, and she rejoiced knowing that Brett was in the unending joy of Christ’s presence.  Her skills as a teacher had procured for her a position at the local college, where she now taught English and literature.

To students, faculty, and friends, she appeared to be a seasoned, pleasant, intelligent woman nearing middle age.  Her light brown-gold hair had a few snippets of gray around her ears, and there were delicate lines at her eyes, but her skin was healthy and her figure well-exercised.  She stood about five-foot-seven and possessed the stern curves of a Lauren Bacall.  A number of her friends and family wondered why she didn’t make any attempt to get a date.  But Willow was usefully busy.  Though every now and then she sensed a vague loneliness and longed to again feel that tender closeness she had known with Brett, she just couldn’t see it happening again.  Besides, she didn’t have any single male friends who were near her age at all.

Her sister Lynn, who was six years younger and married with four children, visited one late summer afternoon.  They often got together, considering that their parents had both passed away and each was all the remaining family the other had.

“Willow, I’ve been thinking something,” Lynn began as she sat at the counter, stirring a lemonade prepared by her sister.

“About Harriet’s latest beau? You’d better watch that daughter of yours, Lynn,” Willow chided.  “She’ll be the youngest bride Marsh City has ever seen if you let her keep flirting with every boy at school.”

“Oh, Phil’s going to talk to her about that,” Lynn laughed.  “You know what kind of a father he is.  He’ll challenge every suitor to a duel before he lets someone take our daughter.  But no, it’s, uh, you I actually want to talk about.”

“Staid, proper, middle-aged English teacher Willow Morrison?” and Willow’s eyebrows rose curiously.  “What more is there to be said?”

Lynn swallowed a sip of lemonade.  “Attractive, smart, witty… available Willow Morrison?” she suggested.

Willow breathed in, exasperated.  “Oh, please.”

“Sis, I just want you to be happy, and… fulfilled,” Lynn pressed.

“You think I’m not?”

“I think as far as academics and work go, you are.  But what about people? What about relationships? You aren’t meant to be alone.  I remember how you were with Brett.  Blithe.  Contented.  Blissful.  Now you’re a walking dictionary.”

“Thank you very much,” Willow answered dryly.  “Look, Lynn,” and she exhaled while going serious, “it isn’t that I’m against it.  I just… I have yet to meet a man who can both compare to Brett and be a contrast.  He has to have the character and the faith… and yet not make me long for Brett every time I look at him.”  Her voice softened at the last words.

Lynn reached out to grip her sister’s hand.  “I get it.  All I’m asking is that you put yourself out there.  Meet more people.  Attend functions.  It’s the only way you’ll ever find out if there’s such a guy out there.”

Sighing, but also smiling, Willow nodded.  “Okay.  You should have been the older sister.  You’re enough of a nag.”

“Thank you!”

For about a month, Willow did her best.  She went with Lynn and her husband Phil to a big charity event at the town hall; she joined a book club; she made more of an effort to introduce herself to strangers at church.  Still, no potential suitor.

The fall semester would start the next week, and Willow was drowning in preparations.  Books, papers, plans… she had to collect and organize them all, plus arrange her classroom and stock her desk with every needful accouterment.  She was up and down, skimming through the halls, conferring with other teachers, and observing the new students who were trickling onto the campus.

It was raining, an autumn wind flapping the wet leaves hanging from the maples out on the green.  Willow headed into the library to hunt down the novel Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, which she was going to use in her first class.

“All right.  Fiction… BE through BI, no, BL… BO… BR, ah-ha,” she murmured while scanning the shelves.  She reached the very end of the aisle and realized the book wasn’t there.  She knew it was in the library’s collection because she used it last year.  It must have been borrowed.

For a minute she stood, a little bit put out.  Then a voice spoke behind her.

“Were you looking for Jane Eyre?”

Turning, she found she had to look up – really far up – to meet the speaker’s gaze.  He was young and very grave-looking, yet in his brown eyes there was a little spark, like a laugh that hadn’t yet been uttered.

She smiled.  “Yes, but if you’ve already taken it out, I don’t want to steal it away,” she answered.

“Are you one of the teachers here?” he asked.

“That’s right.  English teacher.”

“So you were looking for this for class work,” he correctly guessed, holding the book out to her.  “Please, you needed it.”

“Why is a boy reading Jane Eyre?” Willow asked with a grin.

“I have to make two corrections before I answer.  One, Jane Eyre is a piece of classic literature containing a well-written plot, useful lessons, and good morals, and should not be judged a ‘girls’ book’ because the protagonist happens to be female.  Second, I’m not a boy.”

So true, Willow couldn’t help thinking as she took in his tall, muscled build.  She laughed.  “You are completely right, and I apologize.  Your first point is one I myself try to get across to my students.  If a book is entertaining, educating, and ethical, who cares whether the main character is male or female? I personally love many novels about men.”

Now the young man smiled.  “I think you’re the kind of teacher I’ll like.”

“Are you a student here?” Willow was surprised.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, I’m Willow Morrison.”

“Miss or Mrs.?”

Willow paused.  “Mrs., but I’m a widow.”

A look of kind sympathy sobered the man’s face.  “I’m very sorry.  It wasn’t… recent, was it?”

“No.  And God has been my comfort,” she answered frankly.

“I’m going to make the guess that you’re a Christian,” he said, a light in his eyes.

“With all my heart.  How about you?”

He smiled.  “I am too.  Of course, I feel like I have so much to learn,” he added confidentially.

“We all do,” she reassured him.  “And I’m so happy to meet a fellow believer.  Not only are we teacher and student, but brother and sister in Christ.  Or maybe mother and son.”

“You can’t be that much older than I,” he objected.

“Well, how old are you?” she rejoined.

“Twenty-two.”  He looked at her, one eyebrow twitching comically, as if he knew she, like most women, wouldn’t give her age.

“Then I was right,” she said triumphantly.  “I’m forty.”

The look of astonishment on his face almost made her burst out laughing.  He quickly let his eyes run over her, then reconnect with hers.  “I can’t believe it.  You’re so… lovely.”

That wasn’t the word she was expecting, and to her surprise and embarrassment, it made her blush.  “Well, thank you, Mister… I don’t know your name,” she added, glad to turn the attention back to him.

“Bert Haver,” and he held out his hand.

She shook it, not really knowing what she was doing.  It struck her the second he said his name that ‘Bert’ was very close to ‘Brett.’

“I’m glad to meet you,” she finally said, forcing her voice to sound calm and pleasant.  “And thank you again for letting me take this book.”

“It’s my pleasure.  I’ll be in your class, by the way,” he informed her.

She had begun to turn away, but paused to meet his eye once more.  “Good.  I’ll see you on Monday,” she smiled.  Then she walked away, picking up her pace when she reached the hall.  Once back in her classroom, she smoothed her hair and took a deep lungful of air.

“What a fool I am to get all flustered! He’s just a boy! A kid!” she rebuked herself under her breath.  “Though he doesn’t seem like it,” she added softly, his features etched in her brain.  “He’s so tall.  Strong too.  I could tell he had big shoulders.  Dark brown hair and eyes… I liked his eyes.  They were so alive.”  Suddenly she snapped her hand over her mouth.  Willow Morrison, you stop those thoughts right now! You’re like a schmaltzy schoolgirl! How dare you go gushing over a boy like that!

Weeks passed, with fall dying into the sharper chill of winter.  The English class had fallen in love with their new teacher and began to view her not only as such but as a confidante and friend.  They started their own little book club in which they read and discussed every sort of fictional work, from classic to modern, famous to unknown.  Willow helped them with assignments and inspired them to fill their minds with all the good literature they could find.  And more and more, Willow found herself with Bert, ostensibly for conversing about their favorite books and authors, but branching out into walks on campus, long quiet hours of fireside work in the school library as she marked papers and he studied, and deeper, more personal conversations.

In Bert, Willow was discovering the sort of man she thought might not exist for her.  Yes, he was young, but not immature.  His own journey of loss and difficulty had chiseled his character at an early age and drawn him to greater trust in his Savior.  He saw his father, a war veteran who suffered from shell-shock, take his own life and then watched his mother struggle and scrimp until she succumbed to tuberculosis.  He had no siblings and no close relatives, so he had to make it on his own.  He’d dropped out of school to help his mother after his father’s death and hadn’t had the means to go back until recently.  That’s why he was in his first year at the age of twenty-two.

Still, Willow was very hesitant to allow anything to grow between them.  People would not approve of a student-teacher relationship, and they definitely would raise eyebrows at their age difference.  Like she had said, she was old enough to be his mother.  So why did it not feel that way? Was it wrong? If the heart and the character are pure and strong, why should there be any objection?

For his part, Bert had been attracted the second he saw Willow browsing the bookshelves in the library that day.  He still didn’t view her as someone who could be in the place of a mother to him.  Her enthusiasm for her work was so girlish; when he read aloud and she listened, he felt as if he was a kid again, studying with a friend.   To him, it seemed even better that she possessed both the fresh, youthful spirit and the experienced, sober one.  Yet he, too, wasn’t sure how to proceed.

It was nearing Christmastime, and a light snow was falling over Marsh City.  Bert had brought a big box over to Willow’s little two-bedroom house, which was right by the campus.  The box contained a new table she had ordered and needed assembled; her old one had seen better days.

“Cold out there!” Bert observed, rubbing his hands and huffing on them after he’d set the box down.

“I’m making hot cocoa,” Willow smiled brightly at him.  “Warm up for a few minutes, won’t you?”

He returned the smile, noting that her trousers and blouse fit her slim build very alluringly.  “Thanks.  I’ll get to work on this after.”  He removed his coat and went over to the fireplace to soak in the heat.

Willow’s mind was all over the place.  She’d paused at the kitchen door and looked back in time to see him take off his coat, and the soft gray sweater clinging to his firm athletic torso beckoned to her.  He looked so strong and manly and gentle, and part of her burned to go over to him and just bury her face against his chest and rest in his arms.  How many thousands of times had she done that with Brett? The thought brought a hot tear to her eye.  She’d been forgetting what it felt like to love and be loved, to lean on someone stronger than herself.  She wanted it so very badly.  Widowhood was a hard thing for a woman who’d known such a beautiful marriage.  And Christmas made it all the harder.  Yes, Lynn and Phil and their children would be coming on Christmas Eve, but… it wasn’t the same.  It wasn’t enough.

First Corinthians 7:8-9 floated into her brain.  “I say therefore to the unmarried and widows, it is good for them if they abide even as I.  But if they cannot contain, let them marry: for it is better to marry than to burn.”  Willow knew she was burning.  Burning with hunger, with desire, with a need that no one but one man could satisfy.

She gripped the back of a chair.  “Oh Lord, show me! Help me! I love You, and if I am to live the rest of my days with only You as my sustenance, I’ll accept it with joy and contentment.  But I ask You to please, please let me know a man’s love again! I miss Brett so much, and I… I know I’ve fallen for Bert! Savior, be my guide! I want You in charge of every step of my life.”

She didn’t hear the door open because her focus was completely on God just then.  Her prayer engulfed her so that her eyes were closed and her lips moved slightly.  More than physical fulfillment, she longed for spiritual fulfillment.  It was the only way to have peace.  And Christ must come first.  Otherwise, human love would do nothing for her.

A hand touched her arm, and she started.  Bert stood there, looking down at her silently.  His hand traveled down to circle her waist.  Then he drew her close to him.

“Willow, I’ve wanted to say something for a while now,” he began in a low, somewhat husky voice.  His eyes were all over her face.  “The Lord just confirmed it for me.  I asked Him to let me find you holding on to a chair and praying.”

Willow caught her breath.

“I love you.  I’m so in love with you that I’m going crazy,” he continued, clasping her closer.  “I know… people will say it’s weird, I’m too young for you, whatever they want, but I know that God has brought you to me.”  He paused, lifting both his hands to place on either side of her face.  “Will you marry me?”

Her eyes were about to overflow and her mouth quivered, but her heart was so very light and pulsing with thrills.  She couldn’t even speak.  So she nodded, a quick but definite nod.

The relief and delight that spread over his face only gladdened her the more.  A second later, he lowered his head to kiss her.

It was gentle, soft.  Willow felt herself crying.  So many memories and sensations were churning up in her after years of being tucked away.  Her hands found Bert’s and covered them as they continued the kiss.

He broke it and looked at her, his eyes, so dark and rich, searching her sweet blue ones.  In them, he read pleading, a pleading to keep going.  So he did.  He met her mouth with his again while his hands strayed down to her waist.  She wrapped her arms around his neck, indescribably satisfied as she felt herself pressed to his body.

She could tell he was doing this for the first time.  He’d confided before that he’d never had a serious girlfriend and wanted to save his first kiss for the woman he married.  She felt honored by each eager brush of his lips.  She sensed he was getting excited.  Of course, she was too.  If they kept on, they might cross a line they’d regret.  To her gratitude, he was the first to pull back.

“I’m not going to be able to stop if we keep doing this,” he gasped, the flesh around his mouth red.  “I just want you so badly!”

“I know.  I want it too,” she admitted, resting her forehead on his chest.  “But we’ll be so glad we waited.”

“How long do we have to wait? I’m financially stable, and… Willow, I was looking at a house the other day…”

She looked up at him.  “No need to spend your money on a house when this one is perfect for a couple,” she said coyly.

“Really?” His eyes lit up.

“If you don’t mind.”

“I’m working nights and Saturdays and have a good job lined up for after I graduate,” he reassured her.

“And I’m comfortable, so money isn’t an obstacle.”

“Then…” and Bert leaned down, his jaw flexing, waiting for her answer.

“Then… yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes!”

He hugged her, his big arms surrounding her just as she had wanted.

They decided that it would be easiest to get married at the courthouse.  Planning a wedding right before Christmas would be too great a load on Willow’s sister and her family.  Besides, she had to talk to the college principal and other head staff.

Willow had told Lynn a little about her feelings for Bert, and Lynn, having a viewpoint similar to her sister’s, had no objection to the age gap between Willow and Bert.  She did warn Willow, though, that the college might not be as lenient.  Such institutions are apt to be stuffy, she said.

Incredibly, the heads of the college gave their approval, and Willow and Bert set the next evening for the ceremony.  Lynn, Phil, and their children were present, and the judge pronounced them man and wife.  Bert kissed Willow, then led her out to a cab waiting on the snowy street while the family threw rice and shouted congratulations.

The new couple intended to spend their short honeymoon in Willow’s house since Bert couldn’t bring her to the school dormitory.  They would take a real trip after he graduated.

Willow had worked all the day before to make the house sparkling and cozy, and with the addition of Christmas decorations, it presented a welcoming aura to the newlyweds.  Bert lifted her easily over the threshold.  The atmosphere of the little cottage wasn’t lost on him.  It made him slow down and really think about what he was doing and what had happened.  And what was about to happen.

She winsomely led him down the short hall to her bedroom, which she had filled with every appealing thing she could think of in anticipation of this night.  The lamps were on, lighting the corners with a warm glow.  The bed itself was big and white, with a very nice cushioned headboard.  On one of the bedside tables was a little basket of strawberries and a bottle of champagne, gifts from Lynn and Phil.  The record player was all set with romantic music by the Jackie Gleason Orchestra, and Lynn had tossed rose petals all over the bed and the floor.

Willow turned to face Bert.  He had taken in the room at a glance and now focused all his attention on the lovely, mature woman before him.  He caught her and kissed her with passion, grasping her upper arms masterfully.  She moaned into his mouth.

“Now you don’t have to stop,” she whispered.

He smiled slightly and dove in again.  His tongue was active and it made her smile.  She bit his bottom lip at one point and he jumped, backing up to look at her in surprise.

“What was that?”

“Did you like it?” she asked coquettishly.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his eyes roving all over her.  “I just never thought… I’ve only read that kind of stuff in books.”

A lovely smile illuminated her face.  “We’ve read many of the same books, remember?” She drew close to him again.

“Guess you’ll have to teach me some of those things since I’m new to it,” he smiled wickedly against her lips.  They kissed again.  Then she laid her hand on his chest and gently pushed him back.

“I’m going to change into something else, all right?” she whispered, her eyes bright and frank as they gazed up into his face.  “Get ready for me.”

He grinned and flushed, swallowing in excited nervousness.  Once she had shut herself in the bathroom, she wanted to shout and laugh at the same time.  Bert was so sweet, evidently aching to be intimate with her, but also innocent.

First, Bert put the music on.  Beautiful, soothing strings filled the room with a love song.  Then tossing aside coat and vest and stripping off his tie, he sat down on the bed to untie his shoelaces and unbutton his shirt.  His heart was racing.  This was his wedding night and he almost couldn’t grasp it.  He felt a little scared.  After all, Willow had done this before.  She knew so much more.  What if he made a fool of himself? Or couldn’t last long in his excitement? The thought of disappointing her made him anxious.  She deserved the very best.

He pulled off his shirt and undershirt, stood, slid his trousers down, and pulled off both socks.  The room was pretty warm—or maybe he was warm—and the floor was carpeted.  No danger of catching cold even on this winter night.  In a stroke of sentimentality, he’d worn a pair of silk shorts a friend bought him as a joke several years ago.  Maybe Willow would like them.

The bathroom door opened, and Bert turned around.  Willow stood there in the most revealing lingerie he’d ever seen: a white lacy bra and thong covered with a short sheer babydoll.  He could easily distinguish the soft curves of her belly through the material.  And her magnificent round breasts were all but displayed.

He swallowed again, walking towards her in a sort of dumb trance.  At last, he found some words.  “You’re… sexy.”

She laughed very slightly, but she was more touched.  A forty-year-old woman didn’t often hear that.

Reaching out, she took his hand and raised it to her breast.  “Touch me, Bert.  I want your hands on me,” she encouraged.  She sensed his sudden shyness.  After all, this was his first time.

As if dazed, he caressed her tender bosom, squeezing experimentally and glancing at her to make sure it didn’t hurt.  The whole time, she was on fire.  A man’s touch on her body was so strange after all these years yet so delicious.  The second she’d stepped out and seen his brawny chest and bare legs for the first time, some tight silk shorts clothing his hips, her legs had trembled, and she felt a dampness between her thighs.  He was all man, muscle and leanness in the right places, dark hair furring his arms, legs, and chest.

He bent close to kiss her, starting gently, softly, then enfolding her in his muscular arms and pulling her tight against his body.  She breathed heavily through her nose while she gripped his upper arms.

His lips suddenly raced down her jaw to her neck and she couldn’t help but start with delight.  It felt so sweet, so intimately wonderful.  Being kissed on the neck was one of her favorite erotic things.

“You taste sweet, Willow, so sweet,” Bert murmured.

“Keep going, darling.”

Almost without thinking, she carefully reached down to touch the tautened front of his shorts.  As her fingers met his sensitive manhood, he stiffened and backed up.

Willow held his eyes with hers.  “It’s all right,” she reassured him.  As he watched, his face an adorable scarlet, she touched him again, rubbing gently over the smooth silk.  She could feel his heat, also that he was quivering.

“Willow… stop,” he begged.  “I don’t want…”

“What?”

He swallowed nervously.  “I want to… last long enough to make you feel good.”

A tender smile warmed her eyes.  “We are giving to each other.  It isn’t about reaching an orgasm.  It’s about enjoying every second of the trip together.  We’ll relax and go slow and not worry about racing to the finish line.  I love you and want to get to know your whole body, and I want you to do the same with mine.  All right?”

Letting a long breath out, he nodded.  Willow was right.  She had learned in her first marriage that this was a lifelong learning experience.  To himself, Bert thought what a marvelous teacher she was going to be!

He led her towards the bed and sat down, drawing her between his thighs.  She placed her hands on his shoulders, gazing down at him with love and desire in her eyes.  His eyes reflected the same thing, and hungrily he pulled her close so he could kiss her breasts.  She moaned softly and stroked her fingers through his hair.

“Yes, Bert, yes,” she encouraged.

His blood was rushing through his veins and pumping through his heart like a busted dam.  To touch and kiss and breathe the scent of this beautiful woman was almost too much for him.  And it was right and good.  There was no regret that he’d held back over the years from doing this with girls he’d gone out with.  Instead, he felt freer than ever.  So free that he boldly opened the babydoll and pushed it from her shoulders.  Now she was only in the bra and thong, and with her slim body, she appeared no older than twenty.  Bert swallowed.

Her hands glided over his shoulders, massaging the muscular flesh.  Then she bent and kissed him hotly.  He gripped her around her bare waist.

“Lie back, handsome,” she instructed, gently pushing at his chest.

In a moment he was sprawled back on the bed, and she climbed over him, straddling his hips and placing herself on his straining manhood.  As their bodies connected, he tensed.

“Oh, Willow, I can’t believe we’re doing this!” he burst out in a groaning voice.

Touching his lips with her fingers, she smiled.  “I’ve been dying to be close to you.  Let’s savor this for a second.”

Bert sat up, wrapped his arms around her, and pressed his face into her neck, bathing in the warmth of her sweet-scented skin.  She kissed his ear and held him.  For a minute they stayed like that, not moving, just clasped in each other’s arms.

“Savior, thank You for giving me this sweet woman to be my wife,” Bert whispered.

“Oh, Lord, You are so good,” Willow breathed.  “Thank you for another chance to feel the love of a good man.”

“Help us care for each other with love and unselfishness,” Bert added.

“And bless this night.”

Bert was the first to lift his head.  He looked into Willow’s eyes.  His own were flaming with tender desire.  Softly, he touched his lips to hers.  She responded.  Their kisses grew in fire and need.  It was heaven to sit in that close embrace and unashamedly explore each other’s mouths and tongues.  They didn’t need to talk.  Just a whimper or a sigh would break from them now and then.  And quietly, the lush orchestral music filled the background with a truly romantic aura.

Starting very slowly, Willow ground into her young husband’s lap.  A husky groan in his throat told her he was very much aroused by her moving body.  His sizable manhood felt so good, so powerful, pressed against her sensitive womanhood.  Bert’s hands strayed all over her back, finding and releasing the clasp of her bra.  It fell away, fully revealing her full round breasts.

“Wow…” was all Bert could manage as, wide-eyed and red-faced, he stared and then bent to kiss those luscious swells of feminine flesh.

Willow sucked in air when his mouth touched her skin.  She stroked his hair weakly.  If she didn’t know what other wondrous things awaited the two of them, she would have been satisfied just with this: seated on Bert’s strong thighs, his hands holding her masterfully while he suckled and licked her breasts.

But there was so much more, and she needed it.  She wanted to show it to him too.

Placing her hand on his bulging crotch, she laid her cheek against his.  He started a little, but she whispered, “Keep kissing m e, darling.”  Slowly she rubbed him, bringing that virile member to full erection.

Suddenly he raised his head to catch her lips with his, almost panting in his heated desire for her.  They kissed as she continued stroking him.

“Willow, sweetheart… uhh, that feels so good!” Bert gasped.  His hips were rolling.

She smiled, her mouth against his.  “Can I take it out?” she asked coyly.

“Yes!”

With her deft hands, she pulled down the waist of his shorts and freed his hot, hard shaft.  Then she did something that he found overpoweringly sexy.  Gazing into his eyes, she licked her fingers, then caressed the entirety of his length.  Bert trembled, his head falling back.  He had to stabilize himself by letting go of Willow and planting his hands on either side of him.  But his mature bride had more delicious torture in store for him.  She eased off of his lap and knelt before him.

“Baby… what are you…” Bert began.

Willow placed her lips around the head of his cock and sucked.

“Good God!” Bert couldn’t help the outburst.  He never used God’s name lightly, but in this instance, he felt completely devoid of all self-control.

As Willow licked him and tongued the tiny slit on his cockhead and used her soft fingers to squeeze his girth, he almost lost consciousness.  This felt so incredible.  Never, in all his lonely years as a single man, had he reached this level of pleasure from jacking off.  In more ways than one, it was going to be complete bliss having an experienced wife.

For a few minutes, Willow made love to her husband’s penis.  She went slowly and paused every minute or so as Bert got close to the point of no return.  He would breathe heavily and calm down a little, then she would proceed.  Her eyes kept jumping to his face, and he had a hard time not exploding into her lovely mouth.

When she stopped to rest her jaw, Bert pulled her arms and said hoarsely, “Baby, I need to give you pleasure.”

“Oh Bert, this does give me pleasure,” she remonstrated, accepting his kisses on her neck with bliss.

“But I want to make love to you,” he reiterated.  “Please, let me try to make you feel the way you’ve made me feel.”

She gazed into his eyes adoringly.  “I would be honored.  Take me, Bert.”

With quick deliberation, he stripped off his shorts.  Willow slid her thong off, causing Bert to pause a few seconds to take in the sight of her shaved crotch.  Then he took her in his arms and settled her on his lap again.  The connection of warm, animated skin thrilled them both, and Bert immediately detected the hot juices seeping out of Willow’s intimate parts onto his excited cock.  There was no room for embarrassment at being naked in the presence of another person; to both husband and wife, this was the pinnacle of earthly delight.

“I read it would be easier for you if we do it this way for starters,” Bert said softly, his hands grasping the sweet flesh of her hips.

She simply smiled and lifted herself enough to direct his manhood into her body.  At the first touch of his tip to her slick folds, she inhaled.  How long had it been since she felt that thrill of a man entering her? Using her hips, she worked him in.  Bert’s chest rose and fell with thick, fast breaths as he watched this gorgeous woman’s body receive his aching member.  To at last experience this, the joining of his body to that of his wife, was beyond words.  Finally he could know what it was like to sheath himself in a woman’s delicious wet core.  The years of waiting were worth it.

Willow eased herself down his length all the way to the hilt.  For a long moment, they stayed still, breathing, reveling in the sensations and this unbelievable closeness, and preparing for the next step.

Willow initiated it by slowly rotating her pelvis.  Closing his eyes, Bert gripped her hips as she kneaded his cock.  She trembled as unusually strong currents of sensation rippled up through her vulva.  She rubbed hard against her husband, enjoying the freshness of the feeling.

With the accompaniment of broken gasps and half-finished moans, they joined in the erotic dance of marital love.  Bert learned to meet his wife’s rolling hips with his own, thus creating an amazing, satiating exchange of pleasure.

“Darling… you’re so… good at this!” he grunted, his hands squeezing her soft buttocks as he pulled her into him again and again.

“Do you like it, Bert?” she asked in a whisper.

“I love it! Do you? Does it feel good for you?”

She nodded a fast little nod.  Her loins were flooded with delight and it was hard to talk.  “Oh yes! You’re so big and firm inside me! It’s… wonderful!”

Willow could see in Bert’s sweating face and pried-open mouth that he was nearing the brink.  Her selfless heart flowed over with the desire to give him the greatest of human pleasures, and she rode him harder, more furiously, while drawing out her undulations on his tender shaft.

He sensed it and groaned.  These feelings, combined with the view of this incredible woman accepting and returning his lovemaking so enthusiastically, made him lose it.  He jerked as his balls tautened.

“Yes! Oh God, yes! Willow, baby… you’re making me… I’m going to…” and with an unsteady yell, he wrapped his arms around her like a vice and pushed as deeply up into her as he could.  Willow clenched around him, her own climax crashing in like a rogue wave.  She sensed his penis spasming, flooding her with warm, sweet sperm.

“Oh Bert, yes! Yes! I feel it… I feel you filling me.  My God, that’s so good! Oh, I forgot how good that feels!” she breathed, her mouth against his shoulder.

For a few seconds, both could only gasp for breath and wait until their racing hearts had calmed.  Then Bert grabbed Willow’s face gently and kissed her.  She welcomed his lips.

“I can’t believe how… magnificent that felt!” he said in awe.  “I’m the most blest man on the planet.”

“Or maybe I’m the most blest woman,” she countered with a smile.  “You made me feel marvelous.”

“I want to do more.  I’m afraid I just sat there and let you do all the work,” was his apologetic observation.

“I couldn’t help letting myself go wild,” she confessed.  “But we have all night, and tomorrow, and the next day, and next month, and next year, if God wills it, to learn from each other.  I think we both have so much delight ahead of us,” and she kissed him again.

“With a teacher like you, I’m planning to be a lifelong student,” Bert growled with delicious sexiness before pulling her back onto the bed with him.