Angie

I’ve taught history at only a handful of universities in my career. I started on the west coast and taught there several years. Eventually my wife, who I had met in grad school, convinced me that a position in the Midwest would put us in the heartland where she was raised, and be a great place to start our own family. We raised our children and as their lives took them all over the U.S. and overseas, we decided that maybe a position in the south would be best for our middle aged years. I sought out and landed a position down on the Texas gulf coast and my wife and I moved there and began the next chapter in our lives.

Having lived so long in the Midwest, we had made many friends from our colleagues and neighbors. Having a new home on the beach in Texas meant a steady stream of visitors who longed to escape the bone chilling cold of South Dakota winters. We even had guests drop in that were friends of our kids, all either college age or recently graduated. We were most popular in the spring, when Spring Break occurred on various campuses across South Dakota. This story is about one of those guests. Angie Jackson is the grown daughter of Les and Mary Jackson. She was two years out of college and teaching in Kansas at a poor rural school through a program called Teach for America. My wife Kay got a private message on Facebook asking if it would be alright for Angie and her roommates could come down for Spring Break and use our guest rooms as their base of operations. Kay gave her permission without asking mine, but of course I was ok with it. I thought of Angie as my third daughter. She was a year younger than my oldest son and a year older than my oldest daughter. Our two families, the Jacksons and Paul’s, had spent so many holidays and vacations together we were closer than most blood families.

“Angie is coming with her roommates for Spring Break, second week in March,” announced Kay over our grilled flounder dinner that night.

“When you say ‘roommates’, does that mean more than one? Are they male or female? Do we need to make additional arrangements or are they going to pile into the two queen beds?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask. If it’s important, I can send her a message on Facebook. But it’s ANGIE JACKSON for goodness sake. Do you think she’s going to bring a rowdy bunch of sex crazed lunatics into our house?” She gave me a mock serious look.

I thought about it. “You’re right. If Angie did manage to find a boyfriend, or a girlfriend for that matter, I would be honored if she brought them to our house for a week of wanton sex.” We both laughed. Angie Jackson was sweet and kind and quite beautiful in her own way, but she lacked any visible sex drive or desire to find a spouse or mate or boyfriend or girlfriend. She was just too nice. Appearance wise, Angie was short. She had plenty of curves, an ample behind and matching breasts. She tried to diet and work out, but her genetics insured that she would be voluptuous and not petite. She had straight blonde hair that she flipped under at her collar and bright blue eyes. And the most beautiful smile any man could set eyes on. Each of her parts screamed sexy, but taken altogether, they announced Sunday School Teacher. She was a sweet, kind, beautiful girl that was the opposite of the archetype for sexiness. Instead of being thin, she was rounded. Instead of oozing sensuality, she radiated wholesomeness. It was a pity no boy had ever fought his way through her sweetness to her warm bosom and warmer cunt. We didn’t discuss it, but Kay and I both held the same opinion. Give it time, I thought to myself. Her mother was a late bloomer too. Angie would find the right man to love her for her precious gifts.

Angie Jackson was a 24 year old virgin.

Spring Break for Angie and her roommates didn’t coincide with the Spring Break of my own university. It fell on the week prior to our Spring Break, right during midterms. I was so distracted by the midterms, I had forgotten they were coming until late on a Saturday evening when our front door flew open and Angie and her roommates burst in. Even though it had been some time since Angie had been to visit, neither she nor we thought it unusual that she just opened the door and came in like family. Kay remembered they were coming of course, but if she reminded me, I had forgotten. I was seated at my desk in my study when I heard the commotion of their arrival. Kay was already being introduced when I appeared.

“Are you sure there’s anyone left in Kansas?” I asked, surveying the seven young adults crowding my living room. “Do you live in a commune now?” Angie crossed the living room and pressed her ample breasts into my waist when she latched on with a bear hug. “How many people do you live with Angie?”

“Oh David! You know you don’t mind! This is Terry, Terri, Tunisha, Alberto, Allison, and Miko.” I was looking a virtual UN of young adults. Terry and Terri were both of Anglo decent, Alberto appeared to be Puerto Rican or Spanish. Allison and Tunisha were both African American and Miko was Asian. “We all teach through Teach for America, but not at the same school. When Terry, Terri and Alberto found out that Tunisha, Allison, Miko and I were coming down; they kind of invited themselves along. Don’t worry; we bought plenty of groceries, so you won’t have to feed us.” They were all giggling and looking about. They appeared to as wholesome a group as idealistic young teachers could be.

“Well, let’s give you a quick tour of the house,” said Kay as she herded everyone toward the hallway. They all followed along as I showed them the two guest bedrooms, each with a queen sized bed. We showed them the screen porch where my wife had placed two inflatable beds. With the sea breezes blowing through, the screen porch felt very nice. But that left one person unaccounted for. Kay saw my wheels turning and spoke up. “One of you will get the couch in David’s study. It’s the most comfortable couch in the house and offers you the more privacy than the living room.” Until then, my study had been more or less off limits to house guests. As if she could read my mind, Angie spoke up. “I’ll take the study. I’m the shortest and a couch will suit me just perfectly.”

“David and I will make you some sandwiches, I am sure you are hungry. You kids bring in your bags and decide who is rooming with whom.” With that we headed for the kitchen and started an assembly line of turkey and ham sandwiches with chips and grapes. I pulled out bottles of water and bottles of beer as well, so they could have their choice to start Spring Break or not. They finished bringing in the luggage and started carrying in the sacks of groceries while Kay and I lay out the trays of sandwiches. They weren’t kidding when they said they brought food. Our cupboards aren’t bare, but with just the two of us most of the time, we don’t stock up on too much more than we can use in a week or two. The kitchen was well stocked now. It held enough food for a brigade of marines.

Our houseguests chattered and ate and opened up the beer, leaving the bottles of water untouched. “I hate to be a rude host,” I apologized, “but I am writing my midterm exams and I need to get back to them. You look like you are going to have plenty of fun without me to be the master of ceremonies, so carry on.” I left the kitchen to a chorus of thanks and retreated to my office. I wasn’t really paying attention to the time; I was too busy writing the essay questions for five sections of exams. Angie softly knocked and then entered. “I’m sorry to disturb you David, but I am going to get ready for bed. It’s been a long day.” She grabbed a bag of personal toiletries and rifled through a suitcase and then slipped out to the bathroom in the hall to change. When she came back I was gathering up papers to move to the kitchen to continue. “No, David, you don’t have to leave. Really. Just stay where you are, I will fall asleep anyway and you won’t disturb me. I have three roommates who chatter non-stop. I can sleep through anything.”

“If you are sure you don’t mind, I will stay here then.” She lay down on the couch with her head at the far end, away from the light from the lamp on my desk. It was a warm Texas gulf coast spring night so she didn’t crawl under the sheet and blankets. I glanced over and noticed was only wearing a t-shirt style nightshirt and panties. Standing up, the shirt hung down to her knees. It was obvious that she had removed her bra and I could tell her somewhat full breasts defied gravity without it. Impressive. When she lay down, she rolled to her side and pulled her knees up in the semi-fetal position, hiking up her shirt and exposing her butt. Even in the low light, I could clearly see her creamy white ass, fully exposed except where it was bisected by pink satin thong panties. I honestly don’t think it occurred to her that I could see her ass and the outline of her puffy lipped pussy. I was more shocked at the sight of Angie Jackson in a thong instead of full coverage granny panties. Maybe there was hope for her yet. I stared for a while, just wondering who would be her first. Had she had a first? Was she really a lesbian instead? Had she had sex with either of the guys she had brought? Any of the girls? Anyone at all? When she stirred slightly her breathing deepened as she adjusted her position. She had sunk into a relaxed slumber. It broke my train of thought and returned to writing test questions about historical milestones. About 1 a.m. I finished with two section exams. I stacked the papers in my briefcase, shut off the light and left the study.

I spent the next day writing the questions for the other sections midterm exams. Most professors would write one set of exam questions and use the exam for each section. But cellphones had pretty much rendered trust useless. The only way I could assist my students with maintaining their academic integrity was to write a different exam for each class section. Five classes, five exams. I probably put too much thought into it, given the overall academic rigor of this particular Texas institution of higher education, but old habits are hard to break. Since it was Sunday, I didn’t retreat to my office until after noon to begin. Upon entering I noticed the couch was still arranged as a bed and hadn’t been made. As sweet as Angie is, she isn’t a particularly tidy person. I also noticed something pink poking out from the crack of the cushions at the back of the couch. I gave it a tug and was rewarded with a pair of young woman’s thong panties. Used. I’ve never been into fetishes and I had never ever sniffed a pair of used panties before. But I thought, ‘Why the hell not?’ and put the still damp cloth to my nose and inhaled. My cock stirred. The odor, the feel of the cotton against my nose, the naughtiness of it, the reminder of that ample ass they had decorated just hours before, all of these things combined to give me a clear fantasy and a nice hard-on. Reluctantly I tucked the panties back where I found them and started working on test questions.

“When the kids get back, we are going to grill steaks. They should be back around seven. Do you want to fire up the grill?” I hadn’t seen Kay in hours, but that was typical. She leaves me alone when I am working in my study.

I looked up at my beautiful wife. “Come get me at six thirty. I’ll start it then.” She laughed and pointed at the mantel clock on my bookshelf. “OK then. I’ll start it now.” It was six thirty-five already. The afternoon had passed quickly and I was still writing out questions. Clearly I was distracted by something.

A few minutes after seven, a Suburban pulled up and the young adults all piled out wearing various forms of beach apparel. Angie was wearing a cotton beach throw over a dark blue one piece suit that pushed her ample figure into an hourglass shape. Her creamy breasts threatened to spill out of the top while the bottom of the suit packed her ass into two firm globes of flesh. Terry and Terri were clearly a couple, as were Alberto and Allison. Terry wore board shorts and a t-shirt, Terri wore a yellow string bikini and clearly had the firm young figure to wear it properly. Alberto was wearing a soccer sweatshirt with the arms cut off and black trunks. Allison was wearing a white boy short bikini with a blue belt. Tunisha sported a brown two piece that pressed her dark breasts into a mile of cleavage. Miko wore a pink and white checked bikini with demure frills around the bottoms and across the breasts, vainly trying to give her a modicum of modesty.

They were all getting along famously as they started opening bottles of wine and helping with finishing the dinner preparations. No one took the time to change clothes; everyone seemed perfectly relaxed in their current state of dress. We had our supper out on the deck that extended from behind the kitchen toward the gulf, content to bask in the breezes that were keeping the mosquitoes at bay for once. It was a boisterous affair and the topic of conversation flowed through a universe of subjects from dance to politics, but the underlying theme was always humor. When dinner concluded, Kay and I started to clear the dishes but we were quickly shooed out of the way. Our guest insisted that they do the cleaning up and I took the opportunity to slip into the study and return to work.

Angie joined me after a few minutes. They were done cleaning up and she was carrying two glasses of wine. She gave one to me and leaned over and gave a kiss on the cheek and said “Thank you so much for letting us come and stay with you. I’ve been looking forward to this for so long. Don’t get me wrong, I love teaching, but it’s so hard sometimes. And it’s so beautiful and warm here. The weather in Kansas only got up to 49 degrees today.” She laughed at the expense of everyone shivering in Kansas. Her beach cover-up had come loose and I got an eyeful of her full figure. I appreciated how beautiful she is, even if I was a majority of one. I might have stared too long. When I looked up, I could see a twinkle in her eye and all of her teeth.