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Art Teacher Romance

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***

The art teacher in this story was first introduced in the Art Student series. That series appears in the Erotic Couplings section of Literotica. You can read this story on its own. If you like it you might also enjoy reading the Art Student series.

Readers’ comments, good or bad, or always welcome.

***

The 2:35 North Shore line commuter train was never very full. Departing just ahead of the commodities traders heading to Chicago’s wealthy northern suburbs, the only people on the train were usually students going home after classes and suburban moms coming back from lunching with friends in the City. There were always a few old timers on the train, semi-retired lawyers and accountants trying to stretch a short meeting downtown into a full day’s activities, and not quite succeeding. The conductors liked working this run because there really wasn’t much to do. Punch a few tickets; help an old lady off the train. This was the quiet ride before the evening rush hour storm.

Terry swung her back pack off her shoulder, plopped herself into the aisle seat, set the back pack on her lap and positioned her portfolio case in front of her. She snuggled herself against the seat back and settled in. As she glanced over to her right, she realized that the woman in the window seat was staring at her.

“Oh, sorry about that; did I hit you with my back pack?” Terry asked with a genuine note of apology in her voice. The woman by the window shook her head; she seemed startled at the sound of Terry’s voice.

“No! No, that’s alright. I was just watching you maneuver everything into your seat that way.”

“I’ve done this ride before. You kind of get used to it after a while. It’s worse in the winter when I have to deal with a heavy coat too. You’re lucky, traveling with just a purse like that.” The woman laughed.

“I was just downtown for lunch with some friends. I don’t need to carry much for that. Do you work downtown?”

“No,” Terry smiled back, “I was visiting the Art Institute. I try to get down there two or three times a month.” Terry could feel the motion of the train as it slowly pulled away from the station. As she looked at the other women, Terry noticed the expensive clothes. The silk blouse, open at the collar; a light pink pearl necklace looping down; and the expanse of light skinned chest highlighted by the blouse which still managed to hide the woman’s breasts from Terry’s gaze.

“Really! I’m on the North Shore Women’s Counsel for the Art Institute. I love going to the museum. You must be a big fan to go so often.”

“I am, but also I’m an art teacher. And I try to make my living as an artist. I go to the Art Institute to keep in touch with the art. I like to sit and draw my impressions of some of the works on display. I’m inspired by the collection. And it’s a relief from looking at my students’ work all the time.”

“Where do you teach?”

“In Evanston. At the University. I also have my studio there, so it works out pretty well. I live in Winnetka, so I can drive to work in ten minutes or take the train downtown in a half hour. What about you?”

“Oh, I live in Kenilworth, same train stop as you, so we’re practically neighbors. I don’t work ‘outside of the home’,” Anne said, putting air quotes around the last phrase. “I’ve mostly been a stay at home mom raising my kids. My daughter, our youngest, just left for college. So now I have a lot more time to myself.”

“Your daughter? You’re not old enough to have a daughter in college!”

“Thanks, but I also have a son who’s a junior in college. Forty four last month. That was my birthday, I turned forty four on March 12.”

“I’m thirty two, and you could be my sister,” Terry laughed, “of course then we’d have to explain me being a blonde and you being a brunette. You’re very pretty,” Terry said in that way that one woman can complement another. Terry had noticed the few grey strands of hair in Anne’s short swept back hair, but they simply looked like highlights. The yellow specks in Anne’s brown eyes had also attracted Terry’s attention.

“Thanks. That’s nice of you to say. I’m Anne. Anne Kenney.”

“Theresa Andrews, but call me Terry. Everyone does.”

“Terry. Nice to meet you. So what kind of art classes do you teach?”

“Drawing and painting. I mostly teach the sophomore classes. So they’ve all had some basic experience. I help them develop their technique and find their areas of artistic strength.”

“That sounds like a real challenge,” Anne said. “Do you get kids with real potential or are they mostly filling time at college?”

“Mostly the latter, but every class has at least one student with real talent.”

“It must be rewarding to work with students like that.”

“It is. I have some drawings with me from one of my students. I’d show them to you, but I’m not so sure about taking them out here on the train.”

“Too bulky?”

“No, too nude!” Terry laughed. Then she leaned over closer to Anne and whispered, “I have one student who does really great sketches of nudes. I have her final exam sketches in my portfolio izmit escort case. We could sort of peak at them, but I don’t want to shock any of the old biddies sitting in the seat next to us.”

Anne did a conspiratorial look around and whispered back, “I think we are in the clear. We’ll just keep the cover slightly closed,” and they both broke out in giggles. Terry reached into her portfolio case and took out a thin folder of papers about the size of a legal notepad. She took one more look to her left; checking on the biddies sitting across the aisle from her. They were engaged in their own conversation, not paying any attention to Terry and Anne. So Terry lifted the cover for Anne to see.

Anne gasped at the first sketch; her eyes opening wide. The drawing was of a beautiful woman, leaning with her head tilted back, breasts fully revealed, a man’s hands slightly cupping them from the bottom, and a lacy thong covering her crotch. The woman’s breasts were well rounded, but not huge. Her areolas were shaded darker then the rest, spread across the font of each breast. Her nipples were slightly erect; small dimples creasing the ends.

“My god, that’s gorgeous,” Anne whispered after a moment. Terry flipped the page to the next drawing. This one showed a man, shirt unbuttoned, leaning against the same woman. He was wearing black briefs; a full bulge apparent in the front. The woman’s hands were tucked into the sides of the shorts, ready to pull them down. This time it was Anne who flipped the page to reveal the next drawing. This showed the back of the man’s head facing the woman’s now nude crotch, her hands holding his head slightly back, her enlarged pussy lips and clitoris clearly visible beyond the top of his head.

“These are incredible,” Anne said. Terry noticed that Anne’s voice was a little deeper, and her breathing had quickened slightly. She turned the page again; the woman, leaning back, legs spread, moisture coating her obviously satisfied pussy. Anne stared for a short moment and then flipped the page. This time it was the young man facing Anne. He was leaning back against the woman; her breasts visible just above his upturned head, his cock fully exposed, held firmly in his hand, the tip slightly opened as a drop of cum seemed to have just left it. Anne was transfixed. She looked at this image for a long time. Then she slowly turned the page back to the previous drawing. The woman. Right after she had cum. Anne stared at this, taking in every line and detail.

“Next stop Winnetka Station,” the conductor announced over the intercom.

Terry reached over, and gently closed the folder. Anne looked up, eyes a little glassy.

“This is our stop,” Terry said, gently, as she slid the drawings back into her portfolio case.

Terry stood up, swinging her back pack onto her shoulder, and stepped into the aisle. Anne had to grab onto the seat back in front for support. The two women headed for the exit. As the train pulled to a stop, the doors opened and Anne and Terry stepped out onto the platform.

“Terry, I want to hear more about your art work and your students,” Anne began. She had clearly made up her mind although she was still uncomfortable talking like this. “My husband, Rob, is out of town tonight. I was just going to order in a pizza and make it a quiet night. Do you want to share a pizza with me?”

Terry smiled. The drawings had the same effect on Anne as they always had on Terry. She was feeling that familiar pull. Anne was beautiful, lively, and seemed like a nice person. She wanted to be close to Anne, see where this might lead.

“I’d love to. I don’t often get to sit and chat, I could use a little of that right now. Do you have a car at the station? Or do you want to ride with me?”

“I have my car here. Why don’t you follow me to my place?” Anne gave Terry the address and some basic directions, but it wasn’t hard to follow her home. The two women pulled their cars up to Anne’s house at the same time. Anne pulled into the garage, while Terry left her car parked in the driveway. The two women walked to the side door and then went into the house when Anne unlocked it.

“This is lovely,” Terry exclaimed at seeing the kitchen and large family room opening before them. It was obvious that Rob and Anne were financially secure; their house was old, large and beautiful, decorated in a casual style that invited you to come in, sit down and relax. Which is exactly what Terry did, plopping herself down on a large sofa in the family room. Anne smiled at her new friend.

“Can I get you a glass of wine? Rob has a very well stocked wine pantry. What do you like to drink?”

“Hmmm. How about something earthy, maybe a little spicy, and slightly sweet as it goes down,” Terry said, a little glimmer showing in her eye. Anne hesitated for a moment. Was Terry teasing her? Anne started to notice that Terry was very pretty, with her full blonde hair, blue eyes, and artist’s casualness about her. Anne still felt a little off balance from the train ride. Those drawings: the young man; that beautiful woman. Anne had never thought about mere drawings izmit kendi evi olan escort this way before. And she couldn’t get the image of the woman out of her mind. Finally, she shook herself back to the present.

“Maybe a zinfandel. I think we have some Alderbrook, it’s a dark red, not the rosy stuff you usually passes for zinfandel. I think you’ll like it.” Anne was on surer ground talking about wine. She went to the wine pantry off the kitchen and came out with a bottle. She pulled down two stemmed crystal glasses and brought them over to the couch where Terry was sitting. “Here’s a cork pull. Can you open the wine while I go change? You look so comfortable in your jeans and flannel shirt; I want to get out of my ‘ladies who lunch’ uniform,” she said with a mock serious smirk on her face.

“Sure, go ahead. Take your time. I’ll open the wine. Can I pour you some?”

“Make it a double,” Anne joked as she went up the stairs.

Terry opened the wine and filled the two glasses. Light Jazz music began playing softly from hidden speakers. Terry sighed and leaned back into the soft cushions. She closed her eyes and listened to the music.

A few minutes passed before Terry heard Anne come back into the room. Anne had changed out of her tailored-to-look-casual outfit into a truly comfortable pair of loose fitting jeans and a man’s dress shirt with the top three buttons left open. Anne sat down opposite Terry on the same couch, and turned to face her. They both reached for their wine glasses. As Anne leaned forward to grab her glass, her shirt front flared open, giving Terry a glance of her small breasts clad in a black lace bra.

“That’s nice,” Terry said as she sipped the wine.

“I’m glad you like it. While we’re sitting here, can we take another look at those drawings? I didn’t want to over expose them on the train. The old biddies might have had coronaries right there on the train!”

Terry laughed. “I brought my case in,” she said, reaching down alongside the couch where she had placed her portfolio case. She opened the case, removed the folder of sketches and placed it on the coffee in table in front of them. Terry let Anne pick through the drawings. At first, Anne took out the sketch of the young man, cock in hand, cum flying. She looked at it for a while.

“How old is he?” Anne asked.

“He’s probably about twenty,” Terry responded.

“Oops; almost the same age as my son. Doesn’t that make me feel like a lecherous old lady?” They both chuckled. Then Anne turned to the picture of the woman, legs partially spread, clearly coming down from a spectacular orgasm. “How old is she?”

“Older,” Terry answered. “Definitely too old to be your daughter,” Terry smiled as she said this.

Anne sighed. “I love my husband. He’s a good guy, but it’s been a long time since he made me feel the way this woman feels.”

Terry looked at the drawing again; her cheeks turning slightly red at the memory of exactly how she felt when that picture was drawn. She reached over to Anne and lightly touched her arm, “Yes, this is one of my favorite drawings. It makes me feel tingly and a little breathless when I look at it.” Anne smiled too.

The two women were sitting side by side, looking at the picture. There legs slightly touching; wine glasses in hand. Terry put her glass down on the table and turned to face Anne. With her right hand, she reached over sweeping Anne’s dark hair back and lightly cupped the side of her head. Terry slowly moved closer to Anne, turning Anne’s head towards her using the slightest of pressure. Terry kissed her gently on the lips. Anne’s eyes were closed; her head tilted just enough to receive this soft first kiss. Terry felt Anne’s body relax, as she leaned sideways against the back couch cushions. Terry held the kiss, lightly moving her lips; enjoying the feel of this new woman friend. Then Anne’s mouth opened and Terry was able to rub her tongue against Anne’s. Anne reached up to grasp Terry by the waist and pulled their bodies in closer to each other. Terry pushed slightly forward and Anne’s body leaned back, lying down on the couch, her head supported by the soft armrest cushions.

With the music playing in the background, Anne was able to completely relax and lose herself in the moment. Terry shifted position, kneeling on the floor at Anne’s right side. Terry slowly began opening the four remaining buttons of Anne’s shirt. Anne opened her eyes to look at Terry. Her left hand reached over and caressed Terry’s brow, brushing her hair back over her right ear. She let her hand linger there, tickling the little hairs on Terry’s neck.

“I’ve never cheated on Rob,” Anne whispered to Terry, “Can I do this now?”

“I can’t answer that for you,” Terry replied in a soft voice.

As Terry finished with the last of the buttons, she spread the shirt open. She reached down using both hands to open the bra clasp between Anne’s breasts. She peeled back the bra cups, enjoying her first look at Anne’s small breasts; just large enough to cover with a cupped hand. Which Terry did, https://hususu.com/escort/izmit-escort-bayan using her right hand to hold Anne’s left breast; feeling the firm nipple against the soft flesh of her hand.

Anne sighed again and closed her eyes. Terry took this as Anne’s consent to continue. Her hands began a slow gentle caress of Anne’s breast. Then Terry moved her hand down slightly, allowing her middle finger and thumb to lightly stroke just the bumpy edges of the areola. Anne’s nipple became firmer and longer. Terry leaned forward and lightly touched the nipple between her lips, sucking in as she pulled away. She moved her attention to Anne’s neck, which she kissed up and down with slightly biting lip movements. Terry was in no rush. She enjoyed the taste and feel of this beautiful woman. And Anne was happy to oblige to her.

Terry dipped her middle finger into her wine glass, coating it with the spicy yet sweet tasting wine. She placed her finger at Anne’s lips. Anne’s tongue licked the wine off her finger, and then she sucked the finger into her mouth. For the next minute or so, Anne suckled on Terry’s finger, while Terry returned to stroking Anne’s hair with her other hand. Terry removed her finger from Anne’s mouth and used the moistened pad of her finger to stroke Anne’s hardened nipple. A ripple moved through Anne’s muscles from the sensation this caused.

As Anne lay on the couch, Terry leaned back enough to remove her own shirt. Unbuttoned, she tossed the shirt on to the floor followed almost immediately by her own bra. Terry’s breasts were larger then Anne’s, with larger areolas but smaller nipples. Terry leaned back over Anne, kissing her fully on the lips, there breasts rubbing together for the first time. Anne reached behind Terry, pulling the two closer, rubbing her hands along Terry’s back. Finally, Terry broke the kiss. She pushed away slightly, getting her hands in between the two women. She reached down, unsnapped Anne’s jeans and pulled the zipper down. Anne lifted her butt up from the couch and Terry pulled the jeans down her legs and off in one smooth motion. Anne was wearing very brief, black panties, the matching set to the bra she had been wearing. The panties were pulled tight against her crotch, highlighting the slit of her pussy through the fabric.

Terry sat back to take in the view of this woman, naked except for the panties, laid out on the couch, knees slightly bent, thighs slightly spread, nipples fully erect. At that moment, Terry could not imagine a more beautiful sight in the world. She stood up to take off her own jeans. As she pulled them down, Anne opened her eyes to watch. Terry was wearing a white lace thong, her pussy lips straining around the edges, the crotch clearly shimmering from the wetness dripping from her cunt. Anne reached out to touch Terry’s thigh, running her hands up and down the smooth skin, sending shivers through Terry’s body. Terry knew she had to continue; Anne wouldn’t want time to think about what they were doing. So Terry reached over and slid off Anne’s panties.

Anne had a soft, neatly trimmed triangle of jet black pubic hair. The hair did not extend down quite to the tip of her pussy. Terry slipped her right hand on top of Anne’s mound and started to caress it in firm circular motions. Anne gasped loudly, a deep in take of breath, followed by a slow roll of her hips, and the release of her breath. It was a small orgasm, but a nice start.

Terry smiled as she moved onto the couch, positioning herself more or less between Anne’s legs. Anne’s left leg was raised and supported by the back of the couch, while her right leg hung over the edge. This gave Terry a full view of Anne’s lovely pussy; the inner lips, wrinkly and fully extended out, moistened by Anne’s juices. The small button of her clitoris peaked out from its hood. Terry began the slow adventure of discovering ways to give Anne pleasure. She began by rubbing Anne’s feet with firm, squeezing motions. Anne’s sigh assured Terry that this was pleasurable, rather then painful as it sometimes can be. She moved her hands up and down Anne’s legs, spending extra time caressing the skin just inside her thighs, closest to her dripping pussy. Then Terry leaned forward, twisting slightly to lick the soft skin behind Anne raised left knee. This Terry continued to do for a while, sensing no resistance from Anne, within a minute or two, Anne’s breath had quickened again followed by the gasp and then the release. Anne had cum again from this simple caress.

Terry decided it was time to enjoy the taste of Anne’s pussy. She started by leaning in, rubbing her tongue gently along the outer edges of Anne’s protruding lips. This was Terry’s greatest pleasure, enjoying the earthy, spicy flavors and sweetness in her mouth.

She slipped the tip of her tongue in to separate and open up Anne’s pussy lips. As they parted, Terry began to rub the flat part of her tongue up and down; gently at first but with increasing pressure. Now Anne’s hands reached down. She held Terry’s head in the position that only allowed her to continue this licking motion between her pussy lips. Terry pressed her tongue in even firmer, dipping slightly in past the lips, deep into Anne’s pussy. Anne moaned loudly, her body stiffening slightly, followed by the long exhale of pleasure. Then she released Terry’s head from her grasp, allowing Terry to choose what to do next to her pussy.

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