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From: Don Winslow <dwin2001@Yahoo.com>
Subject: RP: My Teacher, My Pet, Pt. 3 (m/F, D/s)
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From: "Don Winslow" dwin2001@Yahoo.com Subect: RP {Winslow} My
Teacher, My Pet Pt. 3 (m/F, D/s) Newsgroups: alt. sex stories.
moderated, alt. sex stories

My Teacher, My Pet Don Winslow Part 3

That was how it started. With the good-looking blond teacher, without
a stitch of clothes on, on her knees, dutifully sucking her smug
self-satisfied student's prick, paying lavish tribute to that
lust-swollen, surging, young cock; going down on him as he watched her
vigorously bobbing head, his hands clamping her naked shoulders;
hungrily sucking on his tautly erected penis while she clutched him
and held him by the bucking hips. For Keith, that long hot summer
uncoiled in boring, languid days that blended together, punctuated by
a few hours of wild, unbelievable sex each Saturday. Now, only
Saturdays mattered. He lived only for Saturdays. Each night,
sweating in a tangle of sheets in his hot stuffy bedroom, he clutched
his straining manhood and jacked off, thinking of Saturday, and what
he would do to his teacher. He began to arrive at her place early,
and he stayed until late into the night.

And he would take the young teacher again and again, in every possible
way, fucking her at first with the sheer animal urgency of pent-up
lust, desperately trying to satisfy that burning itch, the voracious
longing they both had built up for each other over the long, agonizing
week. He could be a rough lover, savage when his blood was up,
grabbing her legs and viciously spreading her open in a heated rush,
lunging in to penetrate her in a single brutal thrust, as she fling
her blond mane about on the sheets, and whimpered and moaned, and
pleaded for more. And then after the first fever had subsided, his
powerful penis drained of a week's worth of raging lust, her hungry
loins satiated for the moment, the throbbing quiver in her womb
subsiding bit by bit, then they would fall into a more languid
lovemaking, a simmering passion that kept her tingling all the day, as
the healthy young stud raised and let fall her burgeoning sensuality,
playing the 34 year old woman's helpless body with the instinctive
sureness of a masterly musician.

And then the Summer ended, and with it the need to cut the grass; but
Keith continued to leave home each Saturday morning, muttering some
vague excuse in the direction of his uncaring mother, when he even
bothered at all. His mother had long ago given up on him.

Keith liked seeing his teacher naked. One day he told her she was to
greet him wearing nothing but her high heels and panties...and she did
it! Opening the door to let him in, just as he wanted her.

It gave Melissa a quiet thrill of pride. She savored the delicious
wickedness of those illicit hours, the sense of danger, the exciting
anticipation of wild and kinky sex. She realized now what she had
been denying herself for so very long. It was sex she needed; the
kind of raw, raunchy sex she got only at the hands of her surprisingly
masterful young stud. For Keith had unerringly found the right
buttons to turn his pretty teacher on. He seemed to instinctively
know that she was one of those women who loved to be "forced" to have
sex, her kind of sex, sweaty, raw animal sex, the dirtier the better.
He made her ask for it, beg for it, insisting she use the dirty words
she secretly loved to whisper in the throes of passion. She found she
loved this down and dirty sex. She was insatiable, wanting to wallow
in sex like a whore, and Keith was pleased to force her to do just
that.

He kept the woman naked for the entire day from early morning, till
late at night. He could never get enough of the sight of her lithe
nude body as she moved around the house, doing the most mundane
chores, making him lunch in the kitchen in nothing but her shoes, and
the apron tied around her waist. The apron came off when they sat
down to eat, for he enjoyed the sight of his bare-breasted teacher, as
she sat across from him, having lunch at her kitchen table.

And even after they had made mad, fierce love, and their passions
were spent, the gnawing sexual hunger temporarily satisfied, even then
he still wouldn't allow her to get dressed, insisting instead that she
snuggle next to him on the couch, her naked body pressed against his,
so he might sling an arm around her shoulders, and leisurely toy with
those delightfully wobbly breasts of hers.

Or if he was feeling frisky that day, he might have her sit opposite
him on the large overstuffed chair, urging her to lean back, open her
legs, and drape them, in widespread invitation, over the arms of the
big chair. It was a deliciously wanton pose he had long fantasized
about: his teacher sitting with her blond-furred womanhood on open
display, completely exposed to him, those long white legs dangling
loosely over the padded arms of the chair, bulging vulva stretched
open before him, the petals of her hidden flower an open secret. He
had her pull back the folds of her outerlips to reveal the labia,
ragged pink lips still closed protectively, the coral pink flesh of
that feminine flower surrounded by tiny curlings of pubic hair that
shaded her splayed crotch.

He knew it thrilled her, made her unbelievably hot -- to be exposed
like that. He could tell from the way her breathing deepened, the
flattened cones of her breasts rising and falling in deep undulations.
Her pinkish aureoles had expanded into wide tight disks, the nipples
hardening like tiny little berries. She closed her eyes and her naked
bottom squirmed excitedly on the flowered cushion of the chair. He
made her play with herself while she held that pose, insisting that
she masturbate in front of him, to show him how she did it. Her long
blond lashes were lowered prettily as she looked out at him through
slitted eyes, and her hand came up to his bidding and play with her
exposed pussy.

Keith felt a renewed rush of passion and his rejuvenated prick stirred
with new life, as he saw the hot blonde writhing and palming her
vulva, fingering her sex while she squirmed in sexual heat in that big
cushioned chair. She slipped her two fingers down along the
protruding lips of her sex and pried back the petals, to hold herself
open with fingers pressing back the dark pink lips of her cunt.

"Go on..play with yourself," he urged in a heated whisper, thrilled
beyond belief by the searing eroticism of the act. He watched,
totally captivated, as her hand moved slid down to cover her cunt,
and she started rubbing her palm down over her pubic mound, twisting
her shoulders as she palmed her lightly furred vulva in a deep, slow,
sensual massage. Her fingers played along the centerline, teasing
over the pouting pussylips, the fingertips rubbing, pressing, slipping
into the slick inner flesh. He watched her press into the cowl of
flesh at the very top of the lips, where the hidden pearl of her
clitoris lay in wait. She fingered herself there, plucking a delicate
pizzicato, rubbing the little nubbin with a fluttery finger.

"Fuck yourself, teacher," he ordered brutally. "Stick your finger up
your cunt...and fuck yourself!"

Melissa closed her eyes and her shoulders surged forward as she
slipped her middle finger into her hot wet slot, curving it up from
her cupped palm, to penetrate her vagina with her stiffened middle
finger. Her hips thrust forward and a plaintive moan escaped her
lips.

"Fuck yourself!.. Fuck yourself!... FUCK YOURSELF! he urged hotly,
his control slipping away as he jammed his hand down the front of his
pants to grab his aching prick, desperate to find some sort of relief.
Her hips were rocking now, and the passion-driven girl hunched
forward, then threw back her silky hair, as she brought a second
finger into play. Immediately, she slipped a third curled finger up
to join the other two, and now she sat on the very edge cushioned
seat, three fingers jammed up her glistening wet cunt, her wrist
jiggling in a flurry of motion as the sensual blonde writhed in
surging passion, finger fucking herself at the command of the lusty
young man who owned her, body and soul.

                          ******

It was all so unreal. Keith found himself living in two separate
worlds. Of course, the two lovers couldn't help seeing each other at
school during the week. And even though, during the Fall semester,
Keith was no longer taking classes from his favorite English teacher,
their paths would still occasionally cross in the hallways, coming and
going from class. And when they passed in the halls, he would smile
blandly and greet her with a "Good morning, Ms. Parker" -- ever the
model student, respectful and polite. She acknowledged his greeting
with a social smile of her own, and nodded her blond head, before
lowering her eyes to hurry off at a quickened pace, heels clicking
down the hallway, while he grinned at her rapidly retreating figure.

If the other guys noticed anything unusual between him and the English
teacher, they would have shrugged it off. They would never had
believed it, had they known the real story. From time to time, he
actually toyed with the idea of telling a few of the guys. It was
hard not to, especially when one of those loud mouths started bragging
about what he'd do to satisfy their man-less and obviously horny
English teacher. But Keith just smiled to himself. No, they would
have never believed him anyway. The wild thought even occurred to
him, that maybe someday he'd grandly invite a few of them over to
Melissa's house some Saturday, and then have their beautiful teacher
greet them at the door in nothing but her pink panties. He could only
imagine the look on their faces! He smiled at the thought of sharing
Melissa with them, of making his hot teacher take off her clothes and
forcing her to have sex with three horny, well-hung guys.

But he never seriously entertained that idea. He concluded he
really didn't want to share Melissa with anyone. It might have been
different if Keith had had even one close friend, a buddy he could
confide in, someone he could trust. But Keith had always been a
loner, and in the end, he wanted his magnificent prize to be his, and
his alone. So he ignored their bragging, and their endless
speculation about the shape of Melissa's tits, and the feel of her
ass, and what her pussy must look like, and what a hot piece she must
be in bed; he kept his incredible secret to himself.

In time, Keith learned to compartmentalize his life. In his mind, he
kept the trim and proper English teacher firmly tucked away at school,
while letting himself savor the searing memory of the sex-crazed
blonde wildly tearing at his clothes in her eagerness to get her hands
on his muscular body, when he finally smiled down at her, grinning and
nodding his permission.

Then, quite unexpectedly, the boundaries began to bleed over into
each other. It all started one day at school, as he caught sight of
Melissa striding purposely across the tiled floor towards the library.
She was wearing the glasses she sometimes wore for reading, and she
cradled an armful of books pressed to her bosom.

She looked delicious in that loose silvery blouse with the wide
sleeves and the straight narrow skirt that layered the promising curve
of her lovely behind; Keith felt a familiar stirring in his pants. He
was always cheered by the sight of those attractive legs in their
sheer black pantyhose, and an idea began to form in his mind. He hung
around outside the library for a few minutes, hiding behind a pillar
near the entrance. He watched her through the double glass doors as
she chatted with Ms DeTour, the librarian, and when she emerged,
relieved of her load of books, he boldly stepped in front of her.

Startled, she drew back. Her brown eyes, behind the disks of those
rimless glasses, widened at seeing her secret lover suddenly appear,
to stand brazenly blocking her way.

"Oh..It's you, I..."

"Hello, Ms Parker," Keith purred, flashing her his best boyish charm.
"You look real nice today."

"Well...uh..thank you , Keith," she stammered flustered and uncertain.
A quick shiver of fear ran through her.

Now he leaned closer, and dropped his voice to enclose only the two of
them in his conspiracy.

"I want you dressed like this when I come over. Just like this," he
added for emphasis.

Then, before she could react, he spun on his heel, leaving his
speechless teacher standing there, her mouth open as she watched him
disappear around the corner.



END OF PART 3

Copyright 1998, Don Winslow






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