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From: Don Winslow <dwin2001@Yahoo.com>
Subject: My Teacher, My  Pet, Part 4
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From: "Don Winslo" dwin2001@Yahoo.com Subject: {Winslow} My Teacher, My
Pet, Part 4 (m/F, D/s) Newgroups: alt.sex. stories. moderated, alt.
sex. stories Content_type:text/plain
_______________________________________________________________________
Note: all fictional characters portrayed in the following work of
fiction are at least 18 years of age, or 19, or older if local
officials wish them to be.
___________________________________________________________________ My
Teacher, My Pet Part 4 Don Winslow


He knew she'd do it, at least he was pretty sure she'd do it, but he
was still pleased to see that she opened the door wearing the clothes
he wanted her in, the silvery blouse made of that shiny silky
material, loosely-fitted, with wide billowy sleeves and snug
wristbands. The flat pointed collar lay open, the two top buttons
left undone to reveal a small vee of smooth lightly-tanned skin looped
by a pair of thin silver chains. The narrow black skirt fell hung
straight on her trim lines, its hem riding just below the knee. Her
outfit completed by the tinted stockings and sleek black pumps. He
looked her up and down, and she noted the approval in his eyes.
Dressed up as for work, she had obviously spent some time on lipstick
and makeup. Her hair was neatly in place, an even layer of bangs
across her brow and a helmet of soft blond that fell in a slight
incurve to kiss her collar, he caught a whiff of her perfume, as she
leaned forward, stretching up to greet him with a kiss. He saw that
she was wearing the glasses she usually wore at school. She looked
the perfect model of the proper school teacher.

"Hi, Ms Parker. You look real nice today," he teasingly complimented
her, using the same words he had used in their brief confrontation in
the hallway at school. And she warmed and smiled at him, a little
nervously.

"Thank you, Keith."

He reached out and touched her on the left breast, letting his fingers
lightly trace the bulging shape through the layers of the slick blouse
and the underlying brassiere she had on, as he looked into her eyes.

"I think you should call me 'Sir.' Now try again."

He watched her work her pursed lips, curl the bottom one biting down
softly on it with two small white teeth. Behind the disks of her
glasses, her deep brown eyes turned soft and mellow as she gazed at him.

"Thank you,....Sir," she whispered.

"That's better. Now, let's get started. Do you like to dance, teacher?"

                                    ******

Keith had cleared away the furniture to form a space in the center of
the livingroom rug. As was their habit, the curtains were already
closed, and the room in semi-darkness, but Keith set about arranging
the lamps, tilting the shades so that, like twin spotlights, they cast
a pool of light on the very center of the room. He slid the CD he had
bought into the stereo, and punched the start button, before settling
back comfortably in the big overstuffed chair. The music came on low
and muted, the slow sensual wail of a solo sax, joined gradually by a
jazz trio. It was boozy, raunchy music, the languid, sexy music of
the topless bars with their parades of nude dancers. Melissa Parker
stood fully dressed in the middle of her livingroom, looking down on
the tousle-haired boy in the T-shirt and jeans who had extracted his
naked penis, and was now fingering it openly, grinning up at her, as
the stripper's music settled into the slow heavy beat of an
unmistakable bump and grind.

She knew what he wanted. Knew what she must do. She had no choice.

"Go on, teacher. Do it. Let me see you dance!"

Moving slowly and deliberately, the young blonde removed her glasses,
and then took off the thin sliver chains, and finally her watch band,
placing each item separately on the endtable under the nearby lamp.
She took a deep breath, and staring off into space over the head of
her seated lover, she started to move, in an almost disembodied way,
swaying in time to the music. Keith was absently fingering his
semi-rigid cock, with his eyes on the swaying figure of his teacher
who moved her body but stood in place in her high heels. Her hips
swung from side to side, and her shoulders began a slight wiggling
motion, as she closed her eyes. He saw her hands come up to her
collar, where her nervous fingers began to work open the row of small
black buttons down the front of her blouse, staring a widening gap
that revealed her front and her gently sloping shoulders, the delicate
traces of the collarbone the smoothly contoured chest and the tops of
those sexy breasts of hers, taut bulges snugly encased in the
filigreed cups of a navy blue brassiere. She tugged the blouse free
of the skirt, unbuttoned the cuffs, then slipped the loosened blouse
from her shoulders. Now her long blond lashes fluttered down, and
her face took on a dreamy sort of expression as the girl let the
slippery blouse slither down her extended arms behind her, only to
gather it up, and not knowing what to do with it, simply letting it
fall to the floor at her feet.

"Come on, dance for me teacher! Get that skirt off! I want to see
you dance!" he ordered, his increasing impatience quite evident. And
now the woman who had been standing in place and moving only her hips,
a bit self consciously at that, began to make a series of short
shuffling steps, her legs moving in the narrow skirt, wiggling, as she
tried a little dance for him, throwing in a bit of the sashaying moves
she thought a stripper might make, while she reached behind her to
find the catch of her skirt.

It took a few little bit of blind fumbling, but she soon had the
skirt undone and, the little zipper opened. Once loosened, the
sagging skirt slid halfway down the girl's swaying hips, and assisted
by a girlish shimmy and a tug on either side, the snug skirt fell to
the carpet in a crumpled heap. He watched her lift each shoe in
turn, to step free of the fallen skirt, and nudge it aside with a
pointed toe.

Under the skirt, Melissa had worn a half-slip. The silken sheath was
also made of deep navy blue satin like the matching bra, its generous
lacy hem hanging to just above her knees. Next, her hands went up
behind her to find the catch of at the back of her brassiere, but he
stopped her.

"No! The slip. Take off the slip!"

She stared down at him and her hands went obediently to her waist as
she hooked her thumbs into the thin elastic and lifting each knee,
bent forward to free her shoes of the slippery satin she held bunched
in her hand. He watched her toss the slip aside with a cavalier flip
of the wrist. He grinned to himself, Melissa seemed to be getting
into the role.

As she straightened up, his eyes took in the splendid sight of
Melissa Parker in her underwear. Two skinny straps looped her nude
shoulders suspending the brassiere that cradled her bulging breasts, a
delicate piece of lingerie, embroidered lacy cups made of darkly shiny
satin, that snugly cradled her highset bosom. Melissa kept herself fit
with regular workouts, as was evident from one look at that flattened
belly, the skin taut drawn over the traces of her hips. The pantyhose
she wore smoothened the sleek contours of her haunches and molded
those slim, shapely legs. The low riding panties that banded her hips
were clearly visible under the hazy stretch of black clingy nylon.

She looked to him with an inquisitive look, and he nodded. Moving
slowly now, twisting her shouders in time to the music and wiggling
her lower body in slow sensual undulations, she reached behind her to
find the clasp of the bra and leaning forward, let it drop into her
cupped hands, spilling her tits, to fall into place and settle with a
slight wobble. Brushing the shoulderstraps down over her shoulders,
she gathered up the tangle of ribbons and lace flung it to one side
with increased abandon.

Now she paused, standing perfectly still for a moment, straightening
up, posing for him, letting him appreciate her newly exposed breasts
as they hung free. She was gratified to see it in his eyes -- the
look of approval he gave to the jaunty curve of her sexy tits, , taut
skinned, softly conical, with just a bit of sag to them, they move
with a slight jiggle, jutting out invitingly toward him with roseate
tips that were slightly uptilted. The nipples, pointing slightly
outward of center, stuck out proudly, as though inviting the sampling
hand, the worrying lips, the sucking mouth. Keith's fingers tightened
on his upright prick and he rubbed himself, hard.

His gaze went from her naked breasts to her face. The young blond
woman was looking down at him through narrowed eyes, her gaze
directed at the hand that tightened on his naked prick. A thin smile
played over her lips as she thought of what she must look like. Her
breasts seemed heavy. She could feel their weight, their heaviness,
their swaying fullness. And she knew that her nipples had expanded
and were thickened and stiff with the excitement that comes from the
realizing that she stood bare-breasted before the boy lover, who was
also her master.

"Go on... the pantyhose," he hissed.

Melissa went over to perch her nyloned bottom on the edge of the
coffeetable. He watched her breast sway forward as she reached down
to slip off her pumps. The pantyhose were next. She worked the
clingy nylon down over her hips, lifting her bottom to pull it free,
peeling the elastic nylon down her extended leg, pulling the
stretching stockings off her feet, tossing the pantyhose aside, to
join the growing pile of clothing on the carpet.

Seeing the lithe blonde standing barefoot on the rug, tall and slender
in only her low slung underpants, gave Keith a tremendous rush. She
stood there staring at him, and she seemed to have forgotten the
music. But as much as Keith felt the urge to take her, right then and
there, falling on her on the livingroom rug, he was enjoying the
striptease too much to stop now. The syrupy moan of the solo sax was
now powered by the throbbing rhythm of a snare drum, a hiss and snap
that punctuated a sexy bump and grind. He had slip her bare feet
back into her pumps, and beckoned her over to take her place once
more, in the center the makeshift spotlights.

"Come here teacher. Let me see those tits of yours," he said,
reaching over to turn up the music.

Keith knew all about topless bars. Once he was with a couple of guys
who actually got to sneak into such a place, a real dive way that
looked like a barn, way out on a dark country road. They didn't get
to stay very long before the bouncer had jostled the under-aged
patrons back out on the gravel parking lot, but they were in there
long enough to see the nude dancers gyrating on stage as they huddled
in the shadows of the doorway. Those girls were pretty, but none of
them could compare to his favorite schoolteacher. And she as putting
on a show just for him!

"Bend down, show me those tits of yours."

The tall blonde leaned forward, allowing the hanging pendants of her
breasts to swing out, as she bent over to cup them as if in offering.
The nipples stuck out, pink and saucy. She felt a wave of heat pass
over her as she held herself like that, cupping her firm tits and
squeezing them out to him as she leaned over, offering her breasts to
the boy who sprawled back on the chair, still clad in his blue jeans,
but with the front of his pants open, his solid erection waving at
her, as he played with himself and watched his sensual teacher
offering her body to him like a common whore. 

"Yeah, that's nice teacher, real nice. Now put your hands behind your
head, and stick out them boobs. Let me see them," he managed to get
out, in a voice husky with passion. The blond girl straightened and
raised her arms, arching up and bringing her uplifted breasts into
greater prominence. With fingers laced behind her head, she closed
her eyes, her tongue peeked out to quickly rim her lips.

"Go on, shake those things," he urged gleefully. Keith was clearly
enjoying himself, though he took his hand away from his primed and
ready manhood, lest there be a premature discharge of his weapon. He
sat back with legs spread, his bare cock sticking up and throbbing
with readiness. She couldn't help but notice the little jiggly
movements he gave to his prick, as she looked down on him through
lowered eyes, wiggling her shoulders and sending the jellied mounds
shaking merrily.

"All right," he crowed. "Now make 'em jiggle! Come on, I want to see
those titties jiggling," he called out, cranking up the music one more
notch. The thumping of the sensual rhythm pulsated through the room
as Keith's private topless dancer began jerking her shoulders up and
back thrusting out her chest in bucking undulations causing her frisky
tits to dance and quiver liquidly. He had her bend down, with hands
braced on her knees and shake her dangling tits, twisting her
shoulders to cause them to jiggle most delightfully right before his
eyes. Keith loved every minute of it.

"Great teacher! You put on a damn good show!" there was sincere
admiration in his voice. "Now, hop up and down for me. I want to see
them bounce."

By now Melissa would have done whatever he wanted. She thought of
herself, of the picture she must be presenting as she hopped on one
foot, causing her slightly floppy tits to bounce up and down in a lewd
manner of an exotic dancer. It was wild. It was crazy. But she
loved it!

Keith had his hand back on his cock. He couldn't help himself. He
was stroking his manhood, in slow hard pulls as he watched those
bouncing tits.

"That's enough," he called, slowing the hopping girl to a stop.

He watched her standing there, sweating lightly, breath coming in
quick shallow gaps through partly opened lips. His eyes swept down
her lean, supple torso, scanning the sleek plane of her taut belly,
and playing across the silken scrap which spanned the shallow
indentation between her sharp angular hipbones. Melissa's panties
were made of shadowy mesh, with a reinforced front panel, a V-shaped
wedge of opaque satin, that was already damp with a telltale stain of
feminine dew. The forced strip tease, the flaunting of her beautiful
naked body had gotten to her, as he knew it would. The moist fabric
had become plastered to her vulva, the gentle mound with its pale
pussyfur, and the neat tuck of her cleft, were all clearly visible
through the clinging film.

"Now take those cute little panties off....and do it right," he
warned. "Slow and easy, just like the girls in the strip joints."

Melissa's hands went to the thin elastic waistband of her frilly blue
panties, but as she smiled down at him with lewd wicked grin, and
slipped her thumbs into the front of her briefs, he stopped her.

"No! Not like that. Turn around, and let me see your ass. I want to
see your ass." he hissed insistently.

His lewd words sent a shiver of lust through the topless girl. She
knew what he wanted. She turned in place, slightly widened the stance
of her high heels, and lowered herself to thrust back her rearend,
providing her audience of one with a most delectable view of her
pantied behind. Then she reached around in back and slipped her
fingers into the lacy waistband and peeled the thin panties down over
her jutting buttocks. Of course, by now Keith had seen her naked many
times, and he knew every inch of that sleek blond body, but still he
always got a special thrill when he had her slip off her panties, and
this was even wilder! He watched as Melissa Parker's naked ass came
into view, those pale, perfectly symmetrical domes, firm and
high-set, and nicely separated by a precise shadowline. The
descending panties were lowered down her thighs uncovering the
blond-furred pouch of her underslung vulva, a happy sight that caused
Keith's cock to jump for joy. She eased her panties down to the back
of her knees and let them fall the rest of the way, to collapse in a
silken puddle ringing her ankles. He watched her step out of her
fallen panties, reaching down to pull the tangled underpants free of
her pumps. Then she looked over her shoulder at him.

Keith shook himself, suddenly aware of throbbing music. He wanted
more, wanted the show to go on. 

"Come on, stick that thing out for me, and shake it...shake that
thing!"

With her hands once again braced on her knees, her bare ass
protruding in his direction, his captive teacher started to wiggle her
hips and then in time with the slow, moaning music she began to rotate
her jutting bottom, making lewd, increasingly deep circles, sassy and
brazen, enticing the guy with her bare ass, offered for his
edification and amusement.

"Yeahh, that's wild teacher, that's great!" Keith cried cheerily.
"Now you can stop that ...and turn around, and dance a little for me.
Yeah, dance! Let's see you go girl," he urged with a huge grin.

She shuffled around and began bucking her pelvis in time to the beat
of the music, her long thin body rippling to the surging beat.
Suddenly, she felt awkward, a new wave of self-consciousness came over
her and she seemed unsure of what to do with her hands. So he put
them on her hips, and thrust her belly out at him. Keith's eyes were
riveted on that undulating blond pussy, the triangle of pale fleece
that started low on her belly, gradually thickening into a tangle of
tufted curls just between her legs. The cleft of her modest pussy was
visible, neatly tucked in the riot of fine curls. Her lover was
mesmerized, captivated by that gyrating pussy, while the woman stood
with hands on hips, shoving her sex towards him in regular thrusts of
her slender loins.

Through slitted eyes she looked down on him. His only movement was
the slow, almost languid pulling on this cock, that he had started
once again. He didn't say a word, but kept her at it, doing that
obscene, lascivious dance of sexual offering, edging closer to his
chair, till she was practically thrusting her pussy into his face.

                            ******


Much later, after the most wild and passionate lovemaking they had
ever experienced, the two lovers snuggled together on the sofa. Keith
slipped an arm around her naked shoulders and drew the girl closer.
He let his hand drift down to gently play with her right breast,
cuddling the taut bulge with just the pads of his fingertips. 

"You put on quite a show, teacher. I think you should get a job as a
dancer, part time of course," he snickered, "'cause I want you to stay
put, right where I can see you every day. But you got all the right
moves. Yah, you could be a pretty good stripper. You know that?"
Melissa said nothing, but she smiled to herself.

"Yeh," he went on, "when you shake those titties of yours like that,
you can drive a guy wild, do you know that?" Melissa snuggled closer,
eyes closed, feeling warm and cozy and wanted. You know it's a real
shame to holster these babies," he continued, taking a nipple between
his fingers and absently toying with the rubbery tip, rubbing it
between his fingers as he talked. "Yes, sir, a real shame."

Suddenly he straightened, as if struck by a novel idea. "Tell you
what you're going to do, teacher. On Monday, when you go to school, I
want to wear these same clothes, your 'schoolteacher clothes'." He
grinned at her. "But no bra. I don't want you wearing a bra. When I
see you in the hall on Monday, I want to know these floppy ol' tits of
yours are completely naked under that pretty little blouse. It'll be
our little secret. Now, you'll do that for me, won't you, teacher?"
he asked in a perfectly charming voice. The sudden vehemence of the
kiss she planted on his open mouth surprised the hell out of him.


END OF PART 4


________________________________________ Copyright 1998, Don Winslow

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