The Sub's Harem: An MFFF adventure tale by Sandy Laine

Author:Sandy Laine [Laine, Sandy]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: PMI
Published: 2024-04-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

It was awkward in the morning. No one seemed ready, willing, or even able, to talk. Being four teachers, me making it five if you call a sub a teacher, busied ourselves around the rented condo, getting ready to go out for breakfast. Five teachers not talking is an odd thing.

It was Laila who suggested breakfast out. All of Dakota, Alana, and Tatum agreed with quick “yeah!”s and rapid nods of their heads, everybody avoiding eye contact with each other rushing around. The relief of an excuse to skedaddle out of the close and intimate confines of the offending condo was palpable.

I was not going to be the one to open up discussion about what happened on the couch — all over the couch — the previous night. Perhaps we could blame it on Puerto Vallarta. Perhaps we could blame it on The Romantic Zone. Maybe it was the sun, or the heat, or the incessant and rhythmic pool-table clacking of the rocks on the beach as each wave broke over it and subsided away in a frothing hiss, and pushing our pace with our bodies breaking over the couch.

We pushed open the balcony doors that formed the entire wall facing the lazy rolling ocean because, at least until it got oppressive, we loved feeling the heat, it being late December and back home being buried under snow or freezing rain or slushy flakes or all three at the same time, all of it under low and dark and grey, foreboding skies.

The four of them, all 27 or 28, like me, 28, looked better than I wanted to tell them. It was the glow in their faces, the spring in their steps. I’d been around enough morning-afters to recognize the look of someone freshly fucked but good, and those four wore it in spades. To mention it would be to sidle up to The Conversation Nobody Wanted to Have through the back door, and so I kept my counsel, as they say.

But could they not have made it at least a little easier to keep my mouth shut? Dakota dressed in super-short sky-blue shorts and a cream-toned shimmering halter, Laila in a short and tight pink skirt and crop-top white t-shirt, Alana in white denim shorts and a loose, long, black band t-shirt giving ample side view of her black lace bra beneath, and Tatum, hitherto the innocent one of the bunch, in a crimson cami-like top and tight red shorts.

They lined up against the wall outside the door to wait for me to close the windows and get the key, so that when I came out, shut and locked the door, and turned around, before me arrayed shoulder to shoulder against the wall, dressed like that, all four faces fresh, rosy, and expectant, all four girls looking so obviously like it was a morning after, I had to sink back against the opposite wall and stare. They took my breath away. It wasn’t any one of them specifically.

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