Weird Sisters

Grading my students' essays after school, I wasn’t feeling as hopeless as usual about their terrible writing skills. I just plain didn’t care anymore. I was distracted and not getting anything done because I knew that in a matter of minutes the separate streams of my schizo behavior would join, swell into a flood and drown my life.

First stream: Jarrett (Science, Department Chair). That very night, we had reservations at a fancy French restaurant, Petit Louis, where couples talk in hushed tones, silver clinks just so against the china and waiters pad around silent as cats, a place where marriage proposals get made. And I knew Jarrett was going to propose to me. I was absolutely sure of it. What should I say to him?

Second stream: Tulio. He had texted me earlier that he was coming to see me in my classroom after driving his kid brother home from school. So I was waiting to see what was going to happen as a result of my sordid behavior. It wouldn’t be good, I knew that. Tulio was a student in my remedial class, a handsome, happy go lucky, repeating senior, almost twenty years old, who wanted another blowjob probably, or to fuck me this time, out in his car.

I was a betrayer, craven and depraved, with appetites I couldn’t resist or understand. I was far worse even than my wild and degenerate “weird sisters” who also taught at Hamilton High, Marina (Spanish) and Jocelyn (Math, Department Chair). I named us that, after the three witches in “Macbeth”, because I teach the play in my tenth grade Honors English class.

Third stream: My weird sisters.

How weird?

Like at that party last year, way out in the county, us three witches were pretty far gone sitting on the inside stairs directly facing the front door of the house. Marina and Jocelyn got so bored and restless that they wound up daring each other to perform oral sex on the next unattached person who came in the door. I didn't get in on the dare because it was my first year at Hamilton and I was still too shy to let my friends know about the real me and I was a 'good girl', already dating Jarrett who is like the nicest guy in the world.

Marina’s unattached entry was male, a handsome, strapping fireman who she might’ve done anyway.

Jocelyn’s was also a guy, older, softer, with slumping shoulders, close together eyes and a slight comb-over. Way below Jocelyn’s standards, she’s very sexy, but a dare is a dare. ‘Oh well’, she said and took him by the hand straight to the bathroom.

“Taste and verify,” Jocelyn said to me when she came back.

Jocelyn kissed me as I sat on the stairs. Sure enough, I tasted the comb-over guy’s cum. Wow, they were weird, these sisters of mine, I was finding out, wonderfully weird. I liked it a lot, kissing Jocelyn, and how she felt me up, lifting and pressing my breast ever so slightly into my ribcage, a whisper of things to come. I also liked the whole idea of her sucking off a shocked, shlumpy stranger on a dare. High school teachers are often pretty far out there. After absorbing rampant teenage sexual energy all day, it's hard not to be a little wild yourself.

Later that night, with us sitting in the back seat of Marina’s car, the fireman driving us home to the city along woodsy moonlit roads, I asked Jocelyn how it was.

“Talk about getting lucky," she said. "Best night of his life and that made it interesting, the look on his face like he wasn't sure if I was going to bite it off or not. But he had a nice cock and I enjoyed myself.”

Jocelyn knows me like Tulio does. She knows I have little power to resist, that all a sexy person has to do is make a move on me and I will surrender. I can’t help it. I gush. I redden. I fluster with desire in response to their desire and my inhibitions blow away like dust in the wind. Something in me says, 'Why not, when you really want to?' Most people don’t know I’m such a pushover so they never make any moves. That car ride was the first time Jocelyn found out about the real me.

I had a low cut blouse on. Jocelyn put her head on my bare upper chest, not meaning anything by it, I didn’t think at the time, or maybe a little by it after that kiss on the stairs. My heart started beating hard, from the weight of her head against my flesh and the feel of her hair and smell of her scalp and her mouth electric so close to my hardening nipples. If she had just lifted the border of my blouse and blown a little air over my breasts I would've had an orgasm. That’s me. Branches slid by the open moonroof as my pussy gushed and my breath came quick and shallow, just from Jocelyn’s head there on my chest.

“You guys, hey, you have to hear this, how hard her heart is hammering back here,” Jocelyn said. “Wow.”

It was quiet in the front seat, except some moaning from the fireman. Marina’s head wasn’t visible so you got a pretty good idea what she was doing with his hose. Again. Weird sisters.

“I'm going to make it beat even harder,” Jocelyn said to me.

She lifted my skirt, yanked my thong aside and put two fingers in me, dipping in and out with practiced strokes just right, sliding up and down the gentle slope of my pussy and then inside me. I was slippery and swollen around her fingers as she entered me and came back out again and again. Did I put up the slightest resistance, even though I was straight supposedly and dating Jarrett, the most eligible bachelor in the school? No, not in the slightest. Jocelyn knew it too, knew everything about me. I clutched onto her head, opened my legs wider and moaned, my heart pounding like mad.

Jocelyn was so good at it. She came all the way out of me in a fluid motion to finger my swollen clit and then plunged all the way in again, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. After a while she maintained a more regular rhythm in and out to make me cum the first time while the palm of her hand opened the petals of my flower and pressed my clit . Guys have no idea and I don’t see why, after we stop being girls and naturally do that for each other, we have to stop. It should be as natural and easy as us talking over glasses of wine or sharing a joint. Natural as sharing secrets and laughing and crying is with your best girlfriends.

My body vibrated, spasmed and quaked and I came with a scream that probably scared the squirrels awake in the trees.

“Wow, how many more of those do you have in you?” Jocelyn asked.

“I don't know. A lot. Don't stop."

“Let's find out. You rock, girl, literally.”

I did rock. When I came the next time, my body violently shuddering, Jocelyn, with her uncanny know-how, grabbed my pubic bone and shook me in time to my body's shaking. I was a blithering idiot now, insatiable. I came on country roads. I came on the beltway, spaced lights flying by, and on US 83 and on St. Paul Street and stopped at a red light at Mount Royal. I came on Light Street and the Key Highway too. When I opened my eyes, I saw the full moon sliding in and out of view like a drunken voyeur.

Gently lifting my hips with her hand inside me, Jocelyn slid me down in the seat to get a better angle at my mouth and said, “Open up, girl. Now I'm going to kiss you all the way to your door.”

And she did, without much tongue and not moving much at all, just her lips perfectly indenting and clasping onto mine and us breathing through each other until it felt completely natural to have two heads. Jocelyn continued to finger me but more gently now because I was finally subsiding after having like a thousand orgasms. Even I have my limits. When the car took a curve and our heads swayed to one side and back we laughed into each other’s mouth. The last time I came, Jocelyn sucked in my breath and vacuumed up my moans and then, when I was done, she exhaled, slowly filling me with her warm breath, announcing the end of my marathon. You know what the fireman said at my door? That, as part of his job, he often goes on calls to a woman in emergency labor and that I was as loud and out of control as a woman giving birth back there.

I didn’t try to do anything to Jocelyn that night. I just accepted her gift. If only Jarrett knew how to accept my gifts. Another night, watching a movie at my house, Jocelyn and I switched roles and I served her pleasure as she lay back on my couch and she came a lot too but not a quarter as much as I did. No one can. And one other time, we got naked in bed for the whole shebang. We complement for each other what guys don’t know how to do and why not?

Jarrett didn’t know me like Jocelyn or Tulio. While I was waiting for Tulio, Jarrett was out on the running trails with the school’s cross country team. He volunteered as the coach, no extra pay. That was Jarrett; a stand-up, nice guy who was completely focused on me when we were together. His eyes latched onto mine and didn’t let go. He listened to every word and proved his attentiveness by asking just the right questions. He doted on me sexually. If what a woman wants is to feel interesting and appreciated, loved and desired, then I had in Jarrett what a woman wants.

Bust Lust

But I grew bored, unengaged, annoyed. Sex was a huge production because I had to have like four orgasms minimum for every one of Jarrett’s. A scientist and a runner, he just wouldn’t quit until the tally pleased him, as if he trying to prove a theory in the lab or set a personal best in the 10K. It wasn’t like with Jocelyn, easy and fun, or like with Tulio, completely depraved and exciting. It was serious, scientific, love business.

Jarrett was so considerate I wanted to scream, ‘Jesus, will you stop trying so hard. It’s so exhausting and my orgasms don't even feel good anymore.’ But I let myself be served and doted on while I acted out my wild side with Tulio in my classroom or in his car. A liar, a coward, a slut. I was scared to let Jarrett go, he was such a keeper, everyone agreed, my weird sisters too.

After sex, Jarret would glow like he’d just run a good race. That’s not funny. It wasn’t fair to him, me feeling those things and leading him on but Jarrett was so earnest and sweet with so many sterling qualities I admired. Let’s say, I wanted to want him. If only I wanted him.

Like if I wanted to give Jarrett a simple blow job and I did, a lot, because he has a gorgeous penis, it was always a big problem for him to just let me get into my trance of sucking, without trying to reciprocate. Jarrett couldn’t help being considerate and putting his two cents in. For him, it was me. For me, it was complete phallic worship and flesh without identity and I didn’t care if the cock filling my mouth belonged to Jarrett or the school janitor or one of my brothers. That’s me. I am a witch. Evil, wanton and strange.

Stifling my urges and lying all those months with Jarret were what led me directly to what I did with Tulio.

Tulio was one of the sexy people who knew me right away. One revealing moment at our conference (I don’t even remember what the moment was) and he picked up my scent. I flustered and felt a look of surrender wash down my face revealing my wanton thoughts about him, my rearing animal. After being scented and sighted, capture was a formality and this tall, loose-limbed jokester in my remedial class, part Native American with jet black eyes and jet black hair, this repeater of 12th grade in order to see if he could pass the State exam, was brazen enough to stroke the side of my breast as naturally as if it were the cheek of his little sister. All I could do was lean toward him and wait for his command.

In Tulio walked, that day, loose-limbed, smiling, hands down in the pockets of his khaki pants, a happy charmer, happy to have no books to carry (he never did his homework) happy even if there was no money in those pockets, happy just to have hands. Right away, seeing him, I knew I would let those hands do whatever they wanted to me. Tulio shut and locked the door, sealing my fate. I would fall again. One look, one touch and I would be unable to resist. Without the strength to resist on my own, I needed an ally fast, before anything happened. I picked up my cell and speed dialed Jocelyn’s cell.

“Thank God, you’re still here,” I whispered fiercely into the phone. “Quick, come to my class room.”

“Excuse me. What?”

“Bring your master key and hurry.”

Tulio was tall and copperskinned. His dark eyes, unknowable on the surface, housed an ancient sadness deep down. He had beautiful hands. His skin smelled like hot cinnamon and milk, his cum tasted of sweet peaches. His skin was as smooth as a warm spring breeze. He's so sexy and inspiring, I just earned myself an A in descriptive writing with sense details. Too bad I can't use it as an example for my students.

Tulio loped toward me like a predator sure of his prey, no rush, smiling his easy smile. I was trembling in my swivel chair. The truth was too horrible and I was going to lose Jarrett. But I couldn’t keep the lying up. I would have to let Jarrett go without telling him how I really was and what I really wanted and give him the chance to know and love the real me if he could ever do that. Maybe then, I wouldn’t need a Tulio anymore.

I stood up, ready for my ecstatic sacrifice. My skin reddened, flashing hotter and hotter. Quick sweat glazed it. My pussy throbbed, my mouth ached, my breasts felt so heavy with desire. Tulio pressed his body into mine. He ran his hands along my ribs and his thumbs roughly over my hardened nipples. I shivered, so turned on already. I can almost cum from anticipation, from danger, from this insatiable sexual hunger God blessed and cursed me with.

Tulio pressed his erection against my belly. He caressed my neck. He whispered into my hair.

“Miss Graton, I want it here and now in your classroom. Take my cock in your mouth that is so smart while mine is so stupid. Take it.”

I fell to my knees, defeated, depraved, hungry, needing to be used.

I unzipped Tulio’s pants. I didn’t care about my job, my reputation, my future. His cock sprung out thick, long and manly, proud, ancient, the ruler over slaves like me. I kissed the soft tip in utter obedience, like a worshiper at a shrine. Slowly swirling my tongue, I licked the head and upper shaft, anointing it for its journey inside my mouth and throat. My trance of sucking shrouded me like a cloak of protective darkness. The rest of the world didn’t exist. Tulio’s legs swayed. He moaned. He put his hands on my hair and shoved my head so his cock pushed into the back of my throat and it opened. I gagged but wanted more and deeper but …

“What’s this?”

Jocelyn. She had understood my cry for help.

Tulio released my head and covered himself up.

“I’m calling security,” Jocelyn said.

“No, she wants it. Don’t you Miss Graton?”

“No,” I said. “I don’t. Really I don't. I just can't help myself.”

“Here, look on my phone, if you don’t believe me,” Tulio said. “Here’s a video of the blowjob Miss Graton gave me out in my car. Too bad, if this ever got out in the school.”

Like I said, Tulio lived by his looks, his charm and his wits.

“Show me,” said Jocelyn.

“Come and look.”

Jocelyn walked over. Tulio showed her his phone and I heard my moans and the throaty song of my trance of sucking. It's one thing to be the way I am and another to realize the depths to which it has taken you.

I started to weep then. I completely lost it. The tension of lying, of faking, of doing wrong broke from me in torrents of uncontrollable sobs as I knelt on the floor of my classroom, completely out of it for a long crying session. The next thing I knew I was in someone’s arms. Jocelyn, gently petting my hair. I looked up. Tulio was gone.

“You dirty girl,” Jocelyn said.

“I know. I’m such a pushover, you know. I'm a nymphomaniac or something like that.”

“No, just a woman," she said, with a laugh. "And he is very cute. That blowjob you gave him really turned me on.”

“Where is he? What happened?” I asked her.

“I confiscated his phone.”

“He let you?”

“Not exactly. I grabbed it. I’ll give it back after I erase your performance and he promises to leave you alone. Now what’s going on?”

I told Jocelyn about my troubles with Jarrett, my fakery and lies, my slavish blowjobs to a class clown.

“Yes, you are a naughty girl but I know exactly what you mean," she said.. "Most men are so dense and don’t get it, like I do, like this.”

Jocelyn kissed me, soft and gentle, long and deep. A perfect kiss from a weird sister who understood the real me.

“I’m confused,” I said. “If I let you, I still won’t be in control of myself and I’ll still be cheating on Jarrett.”

“No, you’ll be in control because I’m your sister and understand and we don’t have to do anything ever again. We just have to know that we can, if we want to. That’s ultimate control, a weird sister you can always call on, a little escape hatch from the unmoveable density of men. Besides, men don’t think it’s cheating if there isn’t a cock involved. They kind of like the idea.”

"Jarrett? No. I don't think so," I told her.

Jocelyn and I cracked up laughing and that night, after telling Jarrett the truth, a bit of the truth, well not even close to half of the truth, and with my weird sister escape hatch in mind, I allowed him to put his engagement ring on my finger.