Lunch with Rosie

Mark stood frozen, half naked. Behind him lithe body of Erin Stansen lay trembling as she came down from her multiple climaxes, a slight smile on her dazed, cum-splattered face, her eyes unseeing as they stared at the ceiling. In front of him, Erin's father and his own wife, Rosie, were looking at him.

"There you are sweetie!", cooed Rosie as she hurried to her husband. She kissed him on the cheek and ran a hand appreciatively against his chest, "Here, let me" Quickly, with the familiarity that comes only with love and intimacy, she retrieved the teacher's shirt and tie and began helping him to dress. Mark remained in shock – not just at his wife's complete lack of reaction to his obvious infidelity but also to her gentleness and devotion. Ever since the arrest she'd been cold towards him but now she was the wife he remembered. Actually she was more than that – the wife he remembered without a hint of jealousy. Did she really not know what he'd just done?

Once he was dressed they were ushered out of the room by a similarly unperturbed Mr. Stansen who informed them they already had a lunch booked for them at a nearby restaurant. After the couple left, the lawyer turned to his daughter. "Well?"

In reply she stretched and gave a long sigh, before delicately scooping some semen from her cheek and sucking it down, "Mmmm ... he'll do nicely"

Mark sat utterly confused in the restaurant with his wife, barely looking at the menu in front of him. He'd betrayed his marriage vows with another woman, enjoyed an exquisite high unlike any he'd ever had before in his relatively straight-laced life and he'd been caught by Rosie. And yet she smiled contentedly from her seat opposite him and was nothing but attentive and doting. After ordering for the both of them, a slight frown creased her pretty face,

"Oh darling, I have to apologise to you!" If Mark had been drinking he would have spat out his water – instead he took a gulp from his glass to reassure himself that he was still in reality. " ... Ok", he replied.

"Mark, the way I've been treating you ... I hope you can forgive me. I should have been supportive instead of jealous. If I'd known the whole story about everything, about how that girl led you on and how you were just being a good teacher to her, well I wouldn't have been such a bitch to you."

The teacher had lost count of the number of times he'd been shocked today and this was just another example. No word of what she'd just witnessed but a grovelling apology?

"After seeing everything in court though, and speaking to that wonderful Mr. Stansen", she continued, reaching over to clasp his hand, and looking into his eyes, "I just wanted to say that I'm so proud of you dear. Making that young girl learn her lesson by fucking her ... there are so few men that would do that, so few teachers. Especially with everything you've had to suffer because of it!"

"But I told you", protested Mark, "I didn't have sex with her! She made it all up!"

"Oh sweetie", she patted his hand patronisingly, "You don't have to lie any more and you don't have to cover it up. I understand!", she stroked his palm reassuringly,

"Mr. Stansen explained that you might feel a lot of guilt and anger because of it, that you might try to deny it ... but it's ok. It's normal to feel like you've done something bad. And that cock-tease charging you with **** as though you're the one that committed a crime ... that just makes you feel worse. But really, Mr. Stansen said this is common for victims of **** like you – it'll just need therapy to fix. By the way, how did your therapy session with Miss Stansen go?"

"Wait ... what? I'm a victim of ****? Therapy? I don't understand?!"

"Of course you're a victim dear, and I'm going to support you to help get over it", Rosie explained patiently, "That school-girl induced your **** of her, even though I know you'd rather have left her alone. Didn't Miss Stansen explain this in your therapy session?"

"What therapy session?!"

"The last half-hour you spent with Miss Stansen dear! She's supposed to be helping you get over your ordeal. That's why she was dressed in the same school uniform. I mean ... that's why she had your semen on her face, right?", Rosie looked a little uncertain suddenly.

Mark's initial instinct was to try to deny it all but that would have been stupid. Besides ... his wife actually seemed to be ok with the idea. Cautiously he replied, " ... Yes. Right, sorry hon, I guess I must have forgotten. It was quite an intense session. Lot's of feelings and that."

"Good", said Rosie relieved, "I mean you're still my husband after all! I know you wouldn't fuck any old bimbo just because you felt like it. You've always been such a good man to me Mark. And in return, I'm gonna support you doing whatever you need to get over all this. No matter how many sessions with Miss Stansen it takes!"

"Oh ... more sessions?", asked Mark, feigning nonchalance.

"Of course. Can you believe their firm are gonna pay for it all too? They really are just wonderful!", his wife gushed. Mark could only agree.

He was so dazed through out lunch that he never noticed Rosie slipping the vials of blue powder into Coke. For a second she felt bad about keeping secrets from her devoted husband, but then Mr. Stansen said it was necessary – for his own good and the good of the court case. And as she'd said before, Mr. Stansen really was wonderful. He knew what was best.

"Gentlemen of the jury, your honour, I'd like to examine more closely the events of the night in question with the help of the defendant and the accuser, misguided Miss Taylor Mayes. Mr Slater? Miss Mayes? If you would."

As Mark took his place he could see that Taylor was **** to come forward – not surprising considering her previous experience. As she manoeuvred her way through though he could see another reason – she'd undergone a little make-over.

"As you can see, Miss Mayes has cleaned up nicely after our little demonstration earlier", Mr Stansen said with a smile, referring to the demented bukkake mere hours ago, "But her clothes were sadly not going to be clean in time so we, the defence, thought it would be appropriate to provide young Taylor with some new clothes – actually, with a school uniform that will help us all understand what actually happened on that night. And I'd like to thank your honour and the very reasonable prosecution for agreeing to enforce this outfit change"

Taylor herself didn't seem that happy about it. Her delicate pale blonde hair was still teased down her back, but now over a figure hugging translucent blouse, sleeves ending at the elbow. It's shape showed how slender her build was while the material contrasted with the black bra showing through from underneath. The blouse was untucked but in truth it ended barely touching the waist of her skirt, a skirt nothing like her pleated school one.

Instead it was a tight lycra black thing that stuck to the curves of her hips and ass and only those curves – it ended at the very top of her thighs. Two garter straps protruded from underneath, leading down to opaque black stockings that started mid-thigh, leaving a good couple of inches of succulent pale flesh free, before running down her slightly skinny but still alluring legs to where she tottered on high heels.

She hugged her arms across herself in a self-conscious effort to cover up but every male eye in the room was still appreciatively roving up and down the teen's body.

"Mr. Slater", began his lawyer, "Before we start looking in detail, thinking back to night in question, is there anything wrong with Miss Mayes outfit? Anything we've forgotten?"

Mark wasn't sure what his role was to be but he still made a show of inspecting his pupil. She looked nervous under his gaze, unsurprisingly since they were together in such close quarters for the first time since that night, the first time she'd made those false accusations. He wasn't surprised that she couldn't look him in the eye.

For the first time he also noticed the little desk she was standing next to, an exact replica of the ones from his classroom. What was going on? Well, he'd already decided that, what ever happened, it was best to play along with his lawyer. During the short silence the judge muttered, quite audibly, "Well I don't see anything wrong with that prick-tease's outfit" which drew a few laughs and agreeing jeers. They were cut short as the defendant confidently announced,

"Actually there is one thing. On that night she wasn't wearing a bra."

The court erupted into cheers and wolf-whistles while Taylor looked finally looked up at him, horrified. She was met with a challenging smirk from her teacher. "Miss Mayes if you would kindly amend your outfit", the judge said. It seemed the teenager had finally reached a breaking point though. "No!", she shrieked, "Please, I can't ... that's not fair!"

"Are you accusing the defendant of lying then?", the judge replied. The pretty blonde looked down cast. "No but ... it wasn't like this!", she protested. "Your honour", said Mr. Stansen, "It is clear that we are dealing with a hostile witness."

"I concur", said the judge, "Bailiff?"

A large uniformed man appeared materialised from where he had been unnoticed in the background, marching towards Taylor with a resolute look on his face. "Please!", shrieked the teen again, but nobody had any sympathy for her. Her dainty hands were quickly grabbed and pulled behind her before a pair of handcuffs tightly bound them in place.

"Silence please Miss Mayes, I won't warn you again!", said the obviously annoyed judge.

"Might I suggest something your honour?", said the unfailingly polite Stansen. When he was given the go ahead he continued, "I think the defendant here should remove Miss Mayes' bra. To protect her dignity you see – since he is the only here who has handled her body before, it wouldn't be proper for a stranger to do so."

A smile briefly played on his features, "It wouldn't do for the poor girl to start getting a reputation as a slut."

"Eminently sensible", agreed the judge, "Mr. Slater if you would please."

The bailiff retired out of view, disappointed, while Mark slowly advanced on the blonde. As he did, he became aware of his racing heart beat. It had been building up since he'd been stood in front of the court and now it seemed to be raging in his ears. Amazingly he could feel the blood rushing to his loins, his hard cock like steel. Even though he'd already experienced two earth-shattering orgasms in the last couple of hours, it felt like liquid lust was racing through his veins.

She stood, awkwardly balancing on her heels, her head actually bowed slightly so her long hair fell forward. Her cuffed hands were obviously causing her uncomfortable problems so perhaps the submissive stance was her only way of staying upright. Either way, seeing the tormenting tease restrained as he approached was a dream come true for Mark. She was a delicious young fuck-morsel, trussed up and delivered to him.

Once he stood in front of her he put a finger under her chin to tilt her face up and stand straighter. Ostensibly it was to help him relieve her of her bra, but in truth it was to **** her to meet his gaze.

Mark had been so distracted with looking at Taylor's exquisitely wrapped body that he hadn't noticed her lunch-time makeover had added heavy eye shadow and mascara to her face – obviously cleaning off the sperm of 8 guys had allowed someone the chance to apply some extra touches of makeup.

She still looked young – her soft cheeks and glowing skin ensured that – but her eyes made her look like pure temptation. Those same eyes were watering up as the teacher and pupil shared a long look. Mark's only thought as his libido roared was "Good".

He began slowly unbuttoning her blouse. In a low voice, her pitch elevated with urgency, she begged him, "Please..." but he only stopped when her bra was revealed, a strapless plain black thing.

No one else could actually see much, since their two bodies were fairly close. The teacher stepped closer, his hands slipping inside the open folds of her top, moving to briefly brush the skin of her sides before wrapping around to her back. Ostensibly he was reaching round for the clasp at the back, but he almost seemed to be embracing her as his body leaned against hers. Mark felt nothing but desire for the eighteen-year-old school girl and he deliberately ground his hard-on into her thigh so that she could feel his want.

As his hands slowly traced between her shoulder blades before finding the bra clasp, she shivered – a weak blonde damsel entirely within his grasp. Bowing his head, he nuzzled into her gorgeous hair before whispering, "I hope you know how much you deserve this for ruining my life."

The clasp came free and he carefully withdrew, his hands removing the strapless bra. As he stepped back he could see her eyes had spilled over, two singular tears running down her cheeks. Tossing the bra to one side, he began rebuttoning her blouse, with barely a glance at her flawless pert breasts even as he was covering them up. First with one cheek, then the other, he wiped away her tears. The gentleness of that act surprised Taylor so much, she found herself no longer crying.

But her teacher was in no mood for mercy.