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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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The High Price of Illicit Pleasure
by Pixie2002 (sarahpixie2001@yahoo.com)
***
A conservative middle school teacher yields to
temptation and risks everything in an affair with a
sexy female student. (M/F-teen, exh, oral, spanking)
***
I think it must have been some kind of temporary
insanity. What other way is there to explain where I
found myself that day? Driving in my car, naked from
the waist down, not knowing exactly what was going to
happen when I reached the address that was written on
the paper lying on the seat between my bare legs.
One thing I was sure about—the arousal was just leaking
out of me and pooling on the cool leather seat. Then
there was the fact that each time I stopped for a
traffic light, I got this amazing tingling deep in my
belly, wondering whether someone would pull up along
side in a tall SUV and be able to look inside my
compact car. Or what if I got stopped by a cop for a
warning about a faulty brake light? I was not really
sure whether the tingling came from dread or
anticipation.
Here I was. Susan Robertson, respected school teacher.
I'd been teaching seventh grade English at Kennedy
Middle School for almost 15 years—ever since I
graduated from college. Teaching was what I'd always
wanted to do. When I was six year old, I would line all
my dolls up on my bed and read them stories. In one way
or another, I'd been teaching ever since.
I love words, I love language, I love literature, and I
love sharing my passion with my students. And if I do
say so myself, I'm pretty good at it. I'd been
nominated as our district's teacher of the year twice
and had the respect of my colleagues. I wondered what
the people I have coffee with every day in the
teachers' lounge would think if they could see me now?
I'm sure they would think that I'd gone crazy. That's
what I thought, too.
And I really wondered what my husband would think! I'd
been married to the same man—Dave—since one month after
we graduated from college. We'd met our freshman year
and were each other's first serious relationship. We'd
been generally happy for the past 14 years. But my
state of partial undress in a semipublic place made me
think that perhaps I should have experimented just a
bit more before settling down to a pretty vanilla sex
life.
Just then a van pulled up beside me at a red light.
"Shit!" I thought to myself, "The driver's looking over
this way." I was certain he could see that I was only
wearing a little crop top that exposed a good deal of
my stomach. But that was not the worst of it. Today it
exposed a good deal more since I didn't have another
stitch on. Instinctively, I tried to pull the short top
down a little bit, but it did absolutely no good.
"Oh god!" I thought, "He's looking over at me." His
eyes were playing over my breasts. Of course, that
always happens. I have a nice pair—36D—and the little
red top clung to them nicely. I looked over at him and
smiled weakly, thinking that might distract him a bit.
I hoped he would focus on my dark brown eyes and my
full mane of dark brown hair that everyone compliments
me on.
The distraction seemed to be working for a moment. But
then his eyes slid lower. "Oh shit!" I thought.
"There's the double-take. He's seen me."
His eyes locked on my pussy. And as they did, I began
to leak even more. By then, the paper that contained
the address was all wet with my juices.
Finally, the light turned green, and I mashed down on
the gas. Mine wasn't a powerful sports car—it was a
little compact that Dave and I could afford on two
teachers' salaries (Dave teaches math at the high
school). But I made a fast left at the end of the next
block and Mr. Van Man flew past on the right, his head
hanging out of the driver's window trying for one final
peek.
All right, more about how I got myself into this
situation. Almost every school year, there's one
student who really gets to you. My rookie year as a
teacher, there was Sean Anderson. This kid was always
causing trouble, talking, telling jokes and generally
testing my ability as a new teacher to control my
class. But every time he'd push me right to the edge
and I was ready to march him down to the principal's
office, Sean would flash this wonderful "who me?" smile
and I'd just have to smile back at him.
He really knew how to manipulate me. And I enjoyed it.
I hear he's a lawyer now. It figures.
Then a few years later, there was Jenny Scott, a pretty
little girl who hardly ever opened her mouth in class.
I knew there was a lot going on behind those blue eyes
of hers and I wanted so badly to draw it out of her.
About halfway through the year, I managed to develop a
nice rapport with her, and she would stay behind after
class and we'd talk. I learned she had a lot of trouble
at home with her step-father, and I found her some help
with that. She still sends me an email every now and
then from university.
This year, there was another one of those kids. Her
name is Mitzi Owens, and believe it or not, she's the
reason I was driving my car in a state of full sexual
arousal, trying with all my might to keep from reaching
down and playing with myself after almost cumming when
Mr. Van Man saw me.
From the first day of school, I had a hard time taking
my eyes off Mitzi. She was not the prettiest girl in
the class. But she had this...this presence about her.
Oh, she was pretty, all right, with shining black hair
cascading just below her shoulders. And these soulful
dark brown eyes. They just seemed to lock onto me and
draw me in from that first day.
Mitzi is about average size for a seventh grade girl, a
little over five feet tall, so she had to look up at me
when we stood together, since I am 5-8. But there were
times when she would look at me and I felt like the
smaller one. She has a nice little figure for a girl
her age. Her hips are already filling out and rounding
nicely, her waist narrowing. Her little breasts were
barely more than buds at the start of the school year.
But with just about a month of school left, she had
really flowered and developed some very nice curves
upstairs, as well.
She is quite popular with the boys. As a matter of
fact, she developed quite a reputation during the
course of the year. Occasionally, I'd catch little
snippets of conversations as I walked by the tight
bunches of girls huddled together at the lunchroom
tables.
"Did you hear what Mitzi did...?"
"Oh my god, she didn't do that!"
"She's such a slut..."
It made me want to grab one or two and shake them and
tell them to quit gossiping, but Mitzi didn't seem to
mind at all. She has this inner confidence that just
lets her go on her way, seemingly not concerned at all
about what her peers were saying about her. But it did
seem clear that she was quite advanced sexually. I
guess that's why I started thinking about her like
that.
I know exactly when I started thinking of Mitzi that
way. One afternoon in October, she was sitting there on
the front row, wearing this short little denim skirt
that was riding way up. She was wearing a white tank
top that allowed her bra straps to peek out from
underneath, and a pair of blue flip flops.
The class was working on a written assignment and I was
sitting at my desk grading papers. I happened to glance
down at Mitzi's feet and noticed that her toes were
painted a bright red. I remember thinking how cute they
looked. My eyes sort of drifted upward along her legs
until I caught a brief glimpse of her panties peeking
out from under her very short skirt.
It was not unusual for me to see something like that
from my vantage point at the front of the room, and I'd
learned to ignore it unless it was too blatant or
happened too often. If it did, I'd ask the offending
young lady to stay a minute after class so I could
remind her of the virtues of modesty.
But this time, for some reason, I felt that familiar
little fluttering in my stomach—the one that signals
the early stages of sexual arousal. Unfortunately, I
hadn't felt it much at home lately, since Dave was busy
teaching at the high school and taking classes toward
his master's degree in the evening.
It was something I was not used to feeling while I was
concentrating on teaching, and it made me
uncomfortable. Nevertheless, my eyes lingered as I
tried to see a bit more of what might be there between
Mitzi's firm young thighs. I could feel my pulse
quicken a little, and I knew I was beginning to
lubricate. My mind began to wander back to some of the
stories I'd heard about this young seventh grader, who
was supposedly giving blow jobs to older boys after
school. There was even one rumor involving a male
teacher, but I refused to believe it.
Regardless, my mind drifted to thoughts of Mitzi's
pretty young lips enveloping the straining cock of some
horny 16 year old, pumping it up and down, grasping it
tightly with her hand, and soon eliciting an explosion
of semen, which she was not quite able to contain in
her mouth. The vision of her with liquid pearls of the
hot, sticky goo dripping from her chin actually made my
pussy spasm just a little.
Just then a dropped book at the back of the class
brought me back from my daydream. Or was it a fantasy?
At any rate, when I looked up, Mitzi's piercing brown
eyes were locked on mine. She obviously knew I had been
staring at her, and she knew exactly where I was
staring.
I know my face must have given me away because I could
feel the heat of my embarrassment rise up from my neck
and envelop my face. Even my ears got hot. But, rather
than share in my shame, Mitzi just smiled this
enigmatic little smile and shifted her weight in her
chair. If anything, her dress rode even higher than
before and her thighs may have parted just a little
further.
I was saved by the bell, so to speak, and everyone
jumped up and headed home for the weekend. I just sat
there at my desk in the empty classroom, my heart
pounding, and with a noticeable dampness in my
conservative school teacher panties. I thought to
myself, "What the hell just happened?"
And I remember hoping that Dave would be home long
enough that evening to fuck my brains out. It was clear
that I needed some sex.
****
From that day on, I couldn't keep my mind, or my eyes,
off Mitzi. It was sort of like when someone tells you
not to think about a pink elephant. After that, you
can't think of anything else. It seemed no matter where
I looked as I was standing in front of the class, my
eyes always ended up on Mitzi. I knew exactly what she
wore every day. How she fixed her hair. I noticed as
her breasts began to develop. Most days, I knew what
color panties she was wearing.
And there were a lot of nights, when Dave was away at
school, that I would luxuriate in a hot bath before
bedtime, while letting my mind drift to thoughts of
this girl who had nearly taken me over. I'd picture
what she must look like without her clothes on. Imagine
what she looked like having sex with those boys.
Wondering whether she really got any enjoyment out of
it.
My hands would drift over my full breasts as they
floated weightlessly in the soapy water. My nipples
would harden as I thought of how I'd love to caress
her, touch her, make sure she knew how good sex could
be when someone took their time with her and weren't
just in it for themselves.
It wouldn't take long until one hand was between my
legs while the other pinched first one nipple, then the
other. I'd bring myself to orgasm night after night
with the tight little body of Mitzi Owens as the last
image in my mind before I plunged over the cliff and
came.
Lying in bed alone one night after one of those
wonderful orgasms, I first began to think that
something might happen between Mitzi and me. Up to that
point, I'd never even thought of myself as bisexual. My
only sexual experience with another female came when I
was about Mitzi's age. Naturally, it was at a
sleepover. Naturally, the four of us girls were
"practice kissing."
But later that night, my best friend Karen turned over
and put her face close to mine in the bed we were
sharing and whispered, "Did you like it when we were
kissing?"
"Yeah," I responded, trying very hard not to disturb
the two other girls on the floor in their sleeping
bags.
"Do you wanna do it some more?" she asked, very matter-
of-factly.
I swallowed hard and whispered, "I guess so..."
And with that, Karen leaned a little closer, closed her
eyes and kissed me tentatively on the lips. I still
remember the taste of her toothpaste and the wonderful
smell of her light brown hair.
We kissed for quite a long time, very quietly so as not
to wake the others, and it wasn't long before we
managed to position our legs just right so we could
grind our pussies on each other's thigh. We must have
kissed and humped for an hour, all the while getting
more and more aroused and less and less concerned about
our sleeping friends.
Suddenly, I felt this strange tingling deep in my belly
that developed into a throbbing that I couldn't
control, even though it scared me so much that I tried
to stop. But it was too late. I'd had my first orgasm
while I held tight to my best friend and ground my
little pussy against her leg.
Quite often during my masturbation sessions in the bath
tub, I would start off remembering this sweet, sexy
adventure with my friend Karen. But by the time I came,
it would be Mitzi that I was kissing. Mitzi's leg that
I clutched tightly to my throbbing cunt.
This, I believe, was the beginning of my temporary
insanity. I only wish I knew when it would end.
****
I can't even describe the guilt I was feeling at just
the thought of having sex with one of my students. I'd
read things in the newspaper and seen stories on
television about teachers who get involved with their
students. So I knew what I would be risking. Shame,
humiliation, professional ostracism. Probably a
criminal record, too. But when you're on fire with the
craving for someone, all these things seem somehow not
so important. There is some rationalization process
that makes you think you'll never get caught.
And so it was that I decided to act on my impulses, my
urges. I remember it being almost an out-of-body
experience as I developed my plan. I seemed to be
looking at this other woman as she went about putting
on a sexy yellow sundress that Saturday morning. I
watched her as she first slipped on a pair of sexy
yellow panties to match, then as she slipped them off
again leaving herself naked underneath.
I watched as she painted her full red lips even redder
with her favorite "fuck me" lipstick, and as she let
her long dark hair fall loose on her tanned shoulders
that were displayed so nicely, barely covered by the
thin yellow straps.
I had looked Mitzi's address up in the principal's
office on Friday before I left school, and I knew about
where the apartment she shared with her mother was
located. I also knew, from casual conversations with
Mitzi during the year, that her mother always worked
Saturdays as an assistant manager at one of the
department stores in the mall.
So I had a good idea she would be alone that Saturday,
or at least without parental supervision. Who knew
whether she would have some friends there at the
apartment with her? I fantasized a bit about what they
would probably be doing if she did have company, but I
hoped she would be alone.
On the drive over there, my heart was pounding just
about the way it did that night with my friend Karen,
when I finally found out how good it felt when someone
pushes just the right buttons...even if by accident.
But today was going to be no accident; I had planned
every step very carefully.
If it all worked out, my fantasies about Mitzi Owens
would become real. I would no longer dream about taking
her nipples between my lips and sucking them, making
them swell with arousal. I would do it! I would make
her cum. I would be the one to teach her how good it
can feel when your whole body tenses with the delicious
throbbing, tingling, pulsing feeling that courses
through you when you climax.
By the time I pulled into the parking lot outside
Mitzi's building, my legs were shaking so hard I was
afraid I couldn't walk the short distance to the stairs
that led to her second story apartment. But as it
turned out, I didn't have to walk that far.
As I rounded the corner, I saw Mitzi sunning herself on
a lawn chair that was sitting on a little patch of
grass not far from the steps to her apartment. The
early afternoon sun was baking her firm, young body,
which looked especially ripe and delicious in her tiny
black bikini. I marveled at how curvy her body had
become--not yet a woman, but with the look of a woman.
"Hello, Mitzi," I said, trying to sound as professional
as possible, despite my voice catching in my dry
throat.
"Mrs. Robertson? What are you doing here?"
"There's an issue from school that I need to discuss
with you, Mitzi. Can we go inside for a minute? That
is, if we won't be disturbing your mother."
"Oh, Mom's working today. She won't be home until
around eight tonight."
Mitzi just looked at me through her dark sunglasses. It
was hard to get a read on what she was thinking when I
couldn't see those expressive eyes of hers. But she did
seem happy to see me, though a little puzzled by why I
would come to her home, rather than talking to her in
school.
"Mitzi, dear," I asked again, "did you not hear what I
said? She seemed to be staring at me with this strange
look on her face, not hearing a thing I'd been saying.
Of course, I'd taken the opportunity to admire her ripe
young body as she lay there in the sun in that tiny
bikini, her body glistening with a thin film of
perspiration and suntan lotion.
My eyes lingered on her firm, round bottom that was
almost completely exposed in her tiny string bikini,
with just a very thin strip of black fabric nestled
snugly between her cheeks.
"I asked if we could go inside for a minute. I want to
talk with you about your final grade in my class," I
repeated, finally seeming to get her attention.
"Oh, er, sure, I guess so," she finally responded
haltingly. At the same time she let her sunglasses slip
down her nose and I saw a look flash through her eyes
as she stared back at me. It was a look I'd seen
before, on those times when she'd caught me trying to
peek between her firm thighs in class. It was the look
that told me she was excited, rather than put off by my
attentions. And it was exactly the same look I could
see in her eyes right then.
I watched closely as she stood and picked up her towel,
preparing to lead me into her apartment. Encouraged by
the look I saw in her eyes, I allowed my gaze to take
her all in, starting with her shiny black hair and
ending at the tips of her toes, which were once again
painted in that bright red color. It was the same color
my mother used to call "whore red." Hmmmmm.
Of course, I paid special attention to her wonderful
round breasts, which were barely covered by the small
bikini top. And then, her mound. I could see the curve
of it, hugged by the thin fabric of her bikini. I
noticed that a bit of the black material was sneaking
its way between her lower lips, offering an enticing
preview of the wonders beneath. I tried to see whether
any pubic hair might be peeking out from either side,
and when I saw none, I was reminded of her youth--of
how any hair she might have down there would certainly
be only fine wisps.
Finally, I noticed her shifting from one foot to the
other, as if I might be making her a bit uncomfortable
with my admiring looks. "Let's go inside, dear," I said
soothingly, and she turned to walk toward the apartment
building with me following behind.
From this vantage point, I was able to watch as her
lovely bottom swayed sensuously from side to side as
she walked. As she began to climb the steps to the
second floor, I lagged just far enough behind to gain
an intimate look between her smooth thighs from below.
And I noticed what looked to be a moist patch on her
bikini bottoms, and it seemed to be growing almost with
each step she took up the stairs.
By the time she reached her doorway, it was clear to me
that she was turned on by my admiring glances and, I
hoped, by the thought of being alone in her apartment
with me while her mother was away.
She opened the door and invited me inside. The air
conditioning marked a stark contrast to the hot, humid
air outside. And it had an immediate effect on Mitzi's
nipples, which swelled and tried to push their way
through the thin fabric of her bikini top. Naturally,
my eyes were riveted on her freshening nipples and we
both realized it instantly. Her face flushed, though
I'm not sure whether it was from embarrassment or
excitement. I hoped to find out very soon.
Of course, my own nipples were straining against the
top of my thin sundress. And with each step, the fabric
stimulated them to the point that they were almost
painful. But with each caress of the fabric, I felt a
little twinge down below as my clit also began to
spring to life. My legs were still shaking a bit and I
steadied myself against the back of a chair near the
door.
The little angel on my right shoulder kept insisting
that there was still time to back out and maintain my
professionalism as a teacher. But the devil on my left,
with assistance from Mitzi's straining nipples, kept
saying, "are you kidding?"
She stood there rather awkwardly, not quite knowing
what to do now that her teacher, who was clearly
fascinated with the sheer sexuality that oozed from
every pore of her 13-year-old body, was inside.
Recognizing her hesitancy, I suggested that we sit on
the sofa so we could go over what I supposedly came to
talk about.
Apparently relieved at my taking the lead, Mitzi
gratefully moved over to the sofa and sat down. She
watched as I sat next to her, so close that our legs
could have touched with just the least amount of
effort.
"I'm afraid I have some bad news, Mitzi," I began with
a deep sigh. As far as I can tell, your final book
report has not been turned in, and you know you need to
complete that assignment in order to pass my course."
"But, Mrs. Robertson," she responded hesitantly, her
pretty face clouded with a puzzled frown. "I did turn
in that report. I stayed up nearly all night last
Thursday and finished it."
"I'm sorry, Mitzi, I don't have it and will have to
give you an "F" if you can't give me a very good excuse
about why the report was not handed in on time."
"That's bullshit!" she suddenly shouted, her face
reddening and her big, brown eyes filling with tears of
frustration and anger. Then when she realized that she
was talking to one of her teachers, one whom she really
liked, she hesitated. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Robertson, I
didn't mean to say that. But I don't think it's fair
that I'm in trouble when I honestly handed that paper
in."
Tears were beginning to make little trails down her
cheeks as she realized that it was her word against
that of a respected teacher. She knew that no one would
take the word of a seventh grader about something like
this—especially a seventh grader who had been working
hard on a bad reputation for the past school year.
I reached over and took her face in both hands and used
my thumbs to gently wipe the tears from her cheeks.
"It's all right, Mitzi. I'm sure we can figure
something out that will allow me to give you a passing
grade." And with those words, one of my hands brushed
her hair back from her face and gently caressed her
ear, then her neck.
I watched as her nipples hardened further at my touch.
"What do you mean 'work something out'?" she asked.
"This is what I mean," I answered, and at nearly the
same time I moved my face close to hers and kissed her
softly on the lips. I felt her stiffen at the first
touch of my lips, but I was encouraged by the fact that
she didn't pull away. My heart was pounding as I kissed
her harder the second time and felt a deep sigh escape
her lips, signaling her enjoyment of my touch. I knew
right then that she was mine, even though she might not
have realized it yet.
"Mitzi," I said as I leaned away from her just a
little, while keeping my eyes locked on hers. "Have you
noticed me admiring you in class?"
"Well, I guess so," she answered hesitantly. "I wasn't
sure exactly. I thought you might be looking at me."
"Well, I was looking at you, dear. And I very much
liked what I saw."
"What was that, Mrs. Robertson?"
"I saw a beautiful young girl, just on the verge of
becoming a young woman. It made me think about when I
was your age. When I had all those wonderful, crazy
feelings just bubbling up inside me. Feelings that I
just didn't quite know what to do with. And it made me
think that I wanted to help you understand those
feelings."
"Well, I have been feeling a lot of things, lately,
that's for sure."
"And, Mitzi, did you notice where I was looking a lot
of the time when I was watching you?"
Her face reddened as she thought about how my eyes
devoured her those times in class.
"You know exactly where I was looking, don't you,
Mitzi?" I asked, and at the same time I moved one of my
hands between her thighs and began to stroke her
lightly with just the tips of my fingers. "I was
looking right here, dear."
"Mmmmmmm," was all she could manage before I leaned in
and kissed her again, this time more forcefully. I took
her bottom lip between mine and sucked on it, then
moved to her top lip and do the same. I kissed her the
way I love to be kissed—slowly, sensuously, with
passion. It was the way I had dreamed of kissing her
for these past nine months.
All the while, my hand drifted lightly on the inside of
her thighs, from her knees, upward, almost to that
magical place between her legs. But each time I
approached her treasure, I slowly slid my hand down
once again.
I felt her warm breath in my mouth, coming in little
pants now, as her ripe young body began to respond to
these new sensations. She had been touched by boys
before, but not this way. Not in a way that allowed her
body time to really respond and get in touch with the
feelings that were now building inside her.
Just as my tongue pressed inside her mouth, my hand
made contact with the thin fabric of her bikini. She
gasped again at this intimate touch, but offered no
resistance. In fact, I felt her thighs part just a
little, in an instinctive reaction that invited me to
continue.
And just as my tongue was probing inside her sweet
young mouth, I used two fingers to locate her lower
lips and begin tracing up and down along the outline of
her little slit, feeling her bikini grow even wetter
with the desire that had been building inside. I
pressed the fabric inside her labia and moved one
finger upward until her little moan told me I'd located
her clit.
But then I stopped and removed my hand and my lips and
looked deeply into her eyes. "Do you like what I'm
doing, Mitzi?"
"Oh, yesssssss," she sighed, unable to talk above a
whisper.
"Do you want me to go farther, dear?"
"Please, Mrs. Robertson. Please touch me like that
again!"
"In due time, Mitzi. But first I want to see those
wonderful breasts that I have watched growing this
year." And with that I moved both hands to the back of
her neck to untie her bikini top. The two strings fell
and her beautifully full mounds began to spill out of
the tiny top. For the first time I saw the dark pink of
her areolas peeking at me.
Instinctively, her hands moved to hold the top. But
then she stopped and let her arms fall to her sides.
And as the top slipped a little more, I saw one, then
both of her hard nipples. They were amazingly large for
a girl her age, and so erect that they were pulling her
areolas taught. Gently, I reached around and unfastened
her top from behind and finished unwrapping the
forbidden package I'd been dreaming about for the past
nine months.
I watched as her breasts rose and fell rapidly from the
excitement. I put my hand gently on her left breast and
felt the pounding of her heart. It was beating with a
fury reminiscent of a frightened animal that has been
captured and doesn't quite understand what is
happening. My other hand moved to her right breast, and
I began to massage them both very gently at first, but
gradually increasing the pressure of my touch. I rolled
her nipples between my thumb and fingers and leaned in
to kiss her again. This time her mouth opened wide to
invite me inside.
I pressed my tongue inside and began to explore, my
heart beating almost as fast as hers. A little smile
crossed my lips as her tongue found mine and began a
tentative little dance. With this encouragement, I took
both her breasts fully in my hands and kneaded them
sensuously to the rhythm of our tongues' caresses.
My own nipples were so hard they were almost painful by
this time, and I felt the same dampness between my legs
that I felt those times in class when I imagined doing
this with her. Only this time it was real! And it was
even more beautiful than I'd imagined.
Slowly, I removed my lips from hers and began kissing
lightly down her neck, then upward to her ears and down
again, with soft little kisses that raised goose bumps
on her tight skin. Soon, my lips reached her chest and
a little moan escaped her lips in anticipation of what
would happen next.
And, sure enough, my mouth found her breasts and my
tongue traced an outline around each one, licking
lightly at that sensitive skin underneath her pert
mounds, and then making smaller and smaller circles
until I was outlining her areolas with my wet licks.
With each touch of my tongue, I could almost see her
nipples grow a little before my admiring eyes.
Sensing from her little moans that she was ready, I
took first one nipple, then the other between my lips
and sucked them in turn, all the while, my tongue
swirling and teasing them. As I took her left breast as
far into my mouth as I could, my right hand slid over
her flat belly toward her bikini bottoms. And when I
encountered the thin fabric, I paused for a minute to
tickle that sensitive area just beneath her belly
button. Again, more goose bumps.
But now that I was so close to my prize, I only played
for a moment, then while still suckling firmly at her
tender breast, I hooked my fingers in her bikini and
began to pull it down. Instinctively, she lifted her
hips from the couch to help as I exposed her treasure
for the first time. I paused in my suckling just long
enough to allow me to reach down and slide her bikini
down her smooth, shapely legs and off.
She was now totally naked, aroused almost to the point
of confusion, and completely in my control. And I
didn't hesitate to claim the prize that I had been
lusting for. I took her breast once again into my mouth
and slid my hand firmly and assertively between her
thighs, opening her to my touch.
This time there was no teasing, no build up, as my
fingers began to trace over the outline of her little
slit and feel the nectar that had begun to seep from
her. I parted her lips and smeared the lubrication over
her opening, making sure that I slickened her growing
little bud. I ran two fingers up and down the tender
flesh, over and over, each time teasing her clit by
trapping it briefly between my fingers and squeezing
gently. Her little squeals of delight and pleasure
created little pulses and throbs in my own wet tunnel.
Finally, I slid my middle finger inside, but only
barely as her tightness resisted my entrance, even
though she and I both wanted it desperately. So I moved
slowly, inching my finger inside her tight little
tunnel until she was whimpering at the delicious
feeling of this invasion. Her breathing was faster and
her hips were rising involuntarily from the sofa as she
tried to draw me deeper inside.
At last, my finger was buried completely inside, and I
took my thumb and massaged her swollen little clitty,
back and forth, up and down, with her oozing nectar
slickening the way. After only a few strokes of my
thumb, I felt her small body stiffen and begin to
shake. Her stomach muscles grew taught and she held her
breath. It was as if she was completely paralyzed for
just a moment.
Then I felt the pulsing, the throbbing of her little
cunt as her climax shot down from the top of her head
to the tips of her red-painted toenails. She cried out
loudly, and I quickly put one hand over her panting
mouth to muffle the sound, even as my other hand cupped
her little mound and ground against her clit while my
middle finger continued to stir inside her throbbing
tunnel.
I removed my hand from her mouth and replaced it with
my lips, and I felt the warm breath of her panting
inside my mouth. I knew that I had made her feel things
she'd never felt before. And with that thought, I could
feel my own juices begin to trickle from me and slicken
the insides of my thighs underneath the bright yellow
sun dress that I'd worn especially for Mitzi.
Finally, the throbbing and tingling subsided as the
final few waves of her orgasm washed over her, and she
went limp. I slid my finger out and raised it to my
lips to taste her sweet nectar. The taste of her
created this tingling deep in my belly and I knew I
needed to taste her again, only more fully and
completely.
I pulled her limp little body next to me and held her,
stroking her damp hair and tingling my fingertips over
her cheeks, her neck, and her chest, where the smooth
skin was still flushed pink with the afterglow of her
orgasm.
We lay together on the couch for, I'm not sure how
long, her body still shuddering every now and then with
little aftershocks. I held her tight, trying to make
her feel safe in my arms and whispered quiet little
reassuring things in her ear, letting her know that it
was okay to feel like this, to enjoy the touch of
another woman—even when it's your teacher.
Of course, my own arousal was continuing to increase
with her naked little body pressed against me. I could
smell the scent of my own cunt, which had been oozing
nectar since before I got out of my car, knowing what I
was planning for Mitzi this afternoon. I'd been
masturbating to the thought of her for almost the
entire school year, so when it actually became real, I
almost came without even touching myself.
But now I was longing for release. My clit was so
swollen and sensitive that the least little movement
pushed me closer. My nipples literally ached they were
so stiff and aroused. Just the touch of the light
cotton fabric of my sun dress made me shiver. But I was
not expecting Mitzi to do anything for me today. I knew
she was inexperienced and confused about what had
happened, so I decided that today would only be a day
for her to receive pleasure. I would have my own
pleasure from her another time, I was sure of it by the
way she responded to me.
Slowly I moved to one end of the sofa, stretching her
out along the length of it and placing one of her bare
feet flat on the floor. This position had the effect
that I wanted—it spread her wide open...to my view, my
touch, and ultimately to my taste. When she realized
how exposed she was, she instinctively reached down to
try and cover her little womanhood. But I moved her
hands away from my prize and whispered reassurances.
She lay very still with her hands resting on her taught
belly.
I paused for a moment to simply admire her. To drink in
the sight of this body, which I had only been able to
imagine until that afternoon. Her skin was so smooth
and firm, with a tightness that only a teenage girl can
know. My eyes moved upward from her carefully painted
toes, along her shapely legs, until I reached that
coveted V between her legs. But I didn't linger there
yet. I wanted to take her all in before returning to
claim my ultimate prize.
My eyes continued upward, to her flat belly, which was
actually a bit sunken right then because she was lying
on her back. I watched her abdomen rising and falling
slowly with each breath. Her belly button was a cute
little "innie," and I couldn't wait for my tongue to
dip inside it.
Farther up, her breasts. They looked rather small right
then as she lay on her back. They reminded me how small
they really were when I first saw her in my class last
September, barely more than little buds from the look
of her clothes at the time. But over the course of the
year, they swelled and grew, until the boys were
noticing, the girls were jealous, and I was lusting for
them.
Her areolas were large and a dark pink, the nipples
rising from them, still erect and pulling them tight. I
don't know if was from the cool of the air-conditioning
or the heat of my gaze, but her nipples were reaching
up and begging for more attention.
Then I focused on her pretty face—the graceful curve of
her jaw, her full sensuous mouth. Of every part of her
it was her mouth that was is already all woman. The
full lips were slightly parted as she relaxed. Her nose
was still that of a girl, small and slightly turned up.
Cute was the best way to describe it, and it seemed so
out of place with her more womanly features.
Her eyes were closed. But I knew exactly what they
looked like—large, brown, expressive. I had looked into
them many times in class. They had caught me staring
more than once, imagining what it would be like if ever
I were able to get her to this exact place where she
was right then. I would have loved to see the look in
them as she realized what I was about to do, but I
decided not to disturb her, to make her open them just
yet because I wanted her to be completely relaxed for
what was to come.
Finally, her hair—dark and shiny, flowing down past her
shoulders when she stood. But now it was forming a
lovely black frame for her face as it sprawled
carelessly over the sofa cushion and cascaded downward
slightly off the edge of the couch. I couldn't keep
from reaching down to brush it out of her face a
little, partly so I could see her more completely, and
partly to demonstrate that I was the adult here and she
was the child.
Finally, it was time for my prize. I scooted my knees
underneath me at the end of the couch, and the position
brought my face in perfect position directly above her
little mound. I admired the curve of it, as it rose
below her flat belly and I noticed the little wisps of
dark hair that were just beginning to cover it. Their
sparseness reminded me once again of her age and took
my breath away.
In this position, her scent surrounded me, and I drank
it in. It was musky, sensuous, and it was mixed with
the smell of her suntan lotion and some fruity cosmetic
that girls her age seemed to use a little too much of.
But even that made my pussy tingle and contract a
little as I thought how many times I'd smelled that
fruity aroma when I walked by her desk in class. But it
was her natural aroma that made my nipples harden
further as I imagined her taste.
I tentatively reached down and traced one finger
lightly along the length of her little slit. I marveled
at how small she was, even with her lips slightly
swollen with arousal. Her leg and stomach muscles
tensed a little bit at my touch, but as I continued my
light caress, up and down the length of her, she began
to relax, even though her breaths seemed to be getting
a little quicker.
I moved my other hand down and used both to part her
outer lips. She was still wet and shiny with the fluids
of her first orgasm, and as I opened her further, I
could see the little pools of arousal that were
collecting on her pink folds. Higher, I saw my ultimate
goal—her little clitty, mostly covered by its hood, but
beginning to peek out to seek my attention.
I couldn't wait any longer. I moved my face close to
her and felt the amazing heat emanating from her sex. I
blew my breath over her, not to cool her but to heat
her further. And it seemed to work as her hips began to
move on the couch as if she didn't know whether to try
and get away or move closer.
But even if she had wanted to move away, it was too
late. I extended my tongue and made one long lick from
that sensitive area just above her tight little
rosebud, along her wet folds to her sensitive little
pearl. Her body shuddered at this exquisite sensation
and a little mewing sound escaped her lips. She was
experiencing something for the very first time, and it
thrilled me to know I was the one who was showing her
the way.
Another full lick, this time with the tip of my tongue
pressing a little farther inside. Then another. And
another. Each time upward, I paused to flick her clit
back and forth rapidly with my tongue. I varied the
pace of my licks, sometimes they came fast, sometimes
slowly. I didn't want her to anticipate when the next
delicious sensation was coming.
I looked up at her and saw that her eyes were clamped
tightly shut and she was biting her lower lip. Her
nostrils were flared as her breaths came faster and
faster. I moved my hands along her abdomen, upward to
her breasts and began to pinch her nipples in rhythm
with my licks.
Her hips were writhing on the couch as I continued to
pleasure her with my tongue, the licks coming faster
and faster, the flicks of her clit becoming harder and
more direct. She was moaning now, panting, squirming—
unable to take much more of this pleasure, but at the
same time needing more and more.
Finally, when I knew the time was right, I sucked her
swollen clit into my mouth and began to suckle, nursing
on it as I would a little nipple. At the same time, I
pinched hard on her nipples.
Mitzi screamed and began to hump my mouth eagerly and
with each thrust of her hips, I sucked harder on her
little pearl and pinched her nipples harder. Then I
felt a gushing of her juices on my lips as she came
again for me, this time much more violently than the
first. Her nectar was flowing from her now and making a
wet puddle on the couch. The sight of this took me over
the edge with her, and I quickly removed one hand from
her breast and thrust it underneath my dress and
between my legs—just in time to feel the spasming of my
own cunt and to feel the explosion of juices from
inside my writhing body.
But I keep my mouth pressed hard against her pussy,
allowing her to grind out the last little bit of her
orgasm on my face. I wanted to taste her juices. I
wanted her to paint my face with them.
Finally, it was over. Mitzi went limp and seemed to be
passed out there on her living room couch. Her body
seemed almost lifeless as I watched her there, but I
could see her firm young breasts rising and falling
slightly with the deep breaths of sleep.
Deciding not to wake her, I smoothed my skirt and tried
to make myself presentable enough to emerge from her
apartment and make my way to my car. The afternoon was
getting away and I needed to hurry home to fix dinner
for my husband. It was time to go back to being the
proper wife, the professional teacher that I was before
Mitzi took me over.
But as I slipped quietly from her apartment and drove
away, I already knew there would be other times—times
when I would teach her how to pleasure a woman. And I
thought about how her sweet young face would look
between my thighs.
****
Thinking back on that first time with Mitzi was enough
to nearly push me over the edge all by itself. As I
eased up and stopped at the next traffic light, I slid
my hand between my legs and began to slip two fingers
inside my leaking pussy. This time, I was so hot that I
almost wished someone would see me.
The anticipation, the dread, the memory of her sweet
young body all combined to put me in that zone where I
just needed to cum. My mother could have pulled up
along side of me and I would not, could not, have
removed my fingers from my cunt. I smeared my nectar
all around my opening and began to rub my clit
furiously. There was no time for the usual teasing or
preliminaries.
Fortunately, this time the car beside me at the light
was a small one like mine, and the woman driver was not
high enough to see into my vehicle. But I sensed that
she was watching me. I suppose it must have been the
wanton expression on my face. Eyes partially closed,
lips parted, nostrils flaring—all the signals of
arousal. I watched her watch me, but never slowed my
fingers. Before the light even turned green again, my
legs stiffened, pressing hard against the floorboard of
the car, and I had a thunderous orgasm.
Just as the light changed, I wiped my juices from my
hand so I could grip the wheel to drive and pulled away
slowly. I had no idea what the woman must have been
thinking, and at that point, I had too many other
things on my mind to really care.
I was on my way to an address that Mitzi had given me
that morning. I had no idea what I would find when I
got there or what I might be required to do.
All that I knew for certain was that I was driving
through the city, naked from the waist down, all on the
orders of my 13 year-old student. My god, my god.
But I guess I'm getting a little ahead of myself. I
need to provide a bit more background.
****
Almost from the minute I left Mitzi's apartment after I
seduced her that day, I began to feel this overwhelming
guilt. Here I was, a respected teacher who had just
done a terrible thing to one of my students. It didn't
matter that Mitzi seemed to be a willing participant. I
was the adult in this situation, and I should have
acted accordingly.
Driving home, I could still feel the moisture in my
cunt, my arousal still fresh in my mind and my body.
And, my god, did that sweet little body do something to
me! I felt light-headed from everything that had
happened.
I shook my head to try to bring myself back to my
senses, vowing that I could not possibly let anything
happen again between Mitzi and me. There was much too
much at stake—my career, my marriage, not to mention
her adolescent psyche. And, of course, there was my own
psyche, which was also pretty screwed up right then.
For the rest of the weekend, thoughts of Mitzi kept
flitting in and out of my mind. Little images, the
sounds, smells, sensations of my time with her kept
coming back. And each time my nipples would stiffen and
I would feel that moistening between my legs.
I wasn't sure how I was going to do it, but on Monday I
had to tell Mitzi what a mistake it was for me to do
that to her on Saturday. I'd ask her forgiveness, beg
her not to tell anyone, and pray that one day I would
be able to look back on the incident and say, "What the
hell were you thinking?"
But when the seventh graders began to file into my
class on Monday, I realized it wasn't going to be so
easy to maintain my resolve. My eyes searched the faces
of the students as they came in and found their seats
until I found Mitzi. When she saw me looking at her,
she blushed a little and gave me a smile that said she
was enjoying the secret that only the two of us knew.
At least I prayed that only two of us knew!
She was wearing the denim mini that always made me
crazy when I saw her in it. She had paired it with a
white blouse that buttoned up the front, and I could
see through the rather thin material that she was
wearing a black demi-bra underneath. Two buttons of the
blouse were already undone, displaying a good bit of
her tanned chest. She smiled a little wider, as she
noticed my reaction to her sexy outfit and took her
place in her usual spot in the first row directly in
front of my desk.
Even though I was shaken at seeing Mitzi for the first
time since Saturday, especially wearing an outfit that
was so obviously calculated to get my attention, I
realized I had a class to teach. So I set about
starting a review of some of the things that were going
to be on the final exam scheduled for Friday.
I was grateful to be able to turn around and write
things on the dry erase board because each time I
turned away from the class, it gave me the chance to
collect myself a bit and try and gain some control. But
each time I turned back, there was Mitzi, sitting there
in her sexy outfit, with that cute little grin on her
face.
And to make matters worse each time I turned around, I
noticed that her legs were spread just a bit farther
apart. It was obvious that she was teasing me, trying
to see how I would react. Once, as I was trying to
explain a concept from one of the novels I'd assigned,
Mitzi casually reached up and unfastened two more
buttons on her blouse, allowing me to glimpse some of
the ample cleavage that she had developed during the
course of the school year.
When I saw that, the words caught in my throat, and I
had to fake a coughing spell to give me time to
recover. But the last straw came when I turned around
from the board once more to see that Mitzi had allowed
her skirt to ride up nearly to her waist. I could see
the boy to her left trying to get a look out of the
corner of his eye, but he didn't have the angle that I
did. He couldn't tell, as I could, that Mitzi was not
wearing panties!
That was all I could handle, and I told the class to
review on their own for the rest of the period and sat
at my desk pretending to look through some papers. Of
course, what I was really doing was sitting there
watching Mitzi, studying her young pussy as she
intentionally displayed it for me, remembering what it
felt like, tasted like. It was fortunate that I was
sitting right then, because my legs were too weak to
hold me up.
Finally, the bell broke through the quiet hum of the
classroom and brought me back from my daydream about
Saturday at Mitzi's apartment. The students looked as
if they had been ejected from their seats, they were up
so quickly, eager to be out of school for the day and
onto some fun.
But Mitzi didn't move at the sound of the bell. She sat
there, legs spread a bit too wide, blouse unbuttoned a
bit too far, and waited as the classroom emptied.
Finally, she rose casually from her seat and smiled
again at me as she began to collect her things.
"Mitzi," I said, trying to make my voice sound as
teacher-like as possible, "we need to talk. Would you
mind staying for just a bit?"
"Sure, Mrs. Robertson." She certainly seemed a lot more
relaxed about the whole situation than I, and that made
me feel even more uncomfortable.
After the last student had exited, I turned to Mitzi,
again making an attempt at my most professional
demeanor. I had a mental argument with myself about
whether I should close the classroom door, and decided
it would be much better to leave it open. I hoped the
open door would minimize the temptation I was feeling.
I sat down at my desk, knees demurely together and feet
tucked slightly under my chair. I made sure that my
full skirt was pulled down as far as it would go, which
was just about to my knees. My conservative white
blouse was buttoned all the way to my neck. I only
wished I'd worn panty hose that morning, just to
provide a bit more "insulation," but I had to be
content being covered by my conservative cotton
panties.
Mitzi stood beside my desk and looked at me with that
open, eager expression that I had enjoyed so much this
year. Her breasts were just about at my eye level as I
sat there, an indication of her short stature. She was
standing so close that I could smell that fruity aroma
that intoxicated me so, particularly because it was
mixed with her own natural scent. She was obviously
very turned on by displaying herself to me in class the
way she had.
"Mitzi," I said, trying not to look directly at her.
"We need to talk about Saturday."
"Oh, yes, Mrs. Robertson, it was just wonderful!"
That wasn't the reaction I needed at that moment. "I'm
not sure what came over me, but we simply can't let
that happen again," I said in my sternest voice.
"What do you mean?" she whined, her pretty face
clouding up. "I don't want us to stop."
"Mitzi, I have to apologize to you for Saturday. I
don't know what got into me. I've never done anything
like that before...with anyone, let alone with a
student."
"Wasn't I good enough?" she whispered. Her eyes were
filling with tears, and her shoulders slumped just a
little.
"Oh, no! It's not that at all, dear. It was one of the
most wonderful things I've ever experienced." Just as
the words flew out of my mouth, I was ready to bite my
tongue. I never should have offered that kind of
encouragement.
"Then if it was so good, we definitely should do it
again!" I love the logic of a 13-year old. Everything
is so black and white, so simple with them.
"It's not that easy, Mitzi. You're a student. I'm a
teacher. I have obligations to you...and to your
mother. Professional obligations. Besides, I could lose
my job and maybe even end up in jail over this."
"Don't worry, Mrs. Robertson," she chirped
reassuringly, "I'll keep your secret...our secret. I'll
never get you in trouble."
"That's not the point, Mitzi, although I do appreciate
your keeping this just between us. It's just not
right."
"I don't care, "Mitzi pouted, her luscious lips pursed
together into a little frown. "I want it. I want you."
And with that, she moved a step closer to me and slowly
raised the hem of her denim miniskirt. Higher and
higher it went, until her little mound was in full
view. "Are you sure you don't want me anymore?" she
asked coyly, as she watched me intently, and followed
my gaze downward to where it was fixed on her
developing womanhood.
I stared for a moment at her little mound and my mouth
went completely dry. I felt as if I was rooted into my
chair. Never taking her eyes from mine, Mitzi began to
touch herself, running her hand over her mound before
slipping one finger just inside her tight opening.
"Stop it, Mitzi!" I almost screamed at her. And then it
occurred to me that the last thing I wanted to do was
attract the attention of anyone who might be passing my
classroom. The halls were deserted of students by now,
but there were always other teachers and custodial
staff lurking around. I lowered my voice to just above
a whisper and glanced nervously at the open door.
"Please, Mitzi, this isn't anything to joke around
about."
"I'm not joking, Mrs. Robertson," she replied. "I don't
want us to stop. And I don't think you really do,
either."
And with that, she reached over and put her hand on my
knee. It rested there only a second before she began to
slowly slide my skirt upward, My nipples sprang to
attention at her touch and little goose bumps formed on
my leg when I felt her hand moving lightly up along the
inside of my thigh.
"Besides, Mrs. Roberson, I didn't get to do anything
for you on Saturday. And I really want to make you feel
as good as you made me feel."
"That's out of the question, Mitzi!" I protested.
"Especially here in school."
But she didn't seem to hear me, as she continued to
slide her hand up farther, pressing forcefully upward
when I tried to clamp my thighs together. I was already
aroused from watching her display her bare pussy to me
for an hour, and the feel of her warm hand so close to
my sex was just too much. My heart began to pound at
the danger, the stupidity, of what we were doing. But
any rational thought was easily overcome by the lust I
was feeling for her at that moment.
Keeping the one hand in place between my legs, Mitzi
reached with her other and pressed it against my
breast. Even through the fabric of my bra, I'm sure she
could tell how firm and erect my nipple was. Her
fingers were tracing over the front panel of my
panties, pressing them into me, soaking them with my
nectar.
She pressed herself closer to my chair and wedged her
thighs between my knees and forced them farther and
farther apart as she leaned toward me. As she bent down
to kiss me, I could see completely inside her barely-
buttoned blouse. Her breasts were straining against the
half-cups they were resting in and I could clearly see
the darker pink of her areolas.
Then her face was close to mine and she was kissing me—
eagerly, firmly, fully. Her tongue pressed itself
inside my mouth and suddenly her hands were all over.
My breasts, my pussy, my face. It was as if she was
possessed. I didn't see how it was possible to be taken
so aggressively but such a small young girl. The
thought of what I had unleashed in her scared the hell
out of me.
She dropped to her knees between my legs and began
licking her way from my knees upward along my thighs.
But she was not in the mood to tease and take her time.
And I didn't want her to. I could feel my climax
building the minute she forced her hand between my
legs, and I knew that one touch on my bare pussy would
probably push me over the edge. Besides, the door to my
classroom was still open and I knew that someone could
pass by any minute.
Fortunately, my desk was in one corner of the room, so
it was not in the direct line of sight from the
hallway, and by now Mitzi had knelt down to the point
that she was nearly concealed under the desk. But it
was still frightening to realize that we could be
discovered at any moment. But I was not about to stop
things right then to get up and close the door. I was
simply too close to an amazing orgasm!
Mitzi reached up underneath my skirt and grabbed for
the waistband of my panties. I lifted my ass from the
chair and she pulled them down in one fluid motion. I
scooted toward the edge of my chair to give her better
access and immediately I felt her tongue on me. She was
like an eager puppy, lapping at my dripping box. I'm
not sure she even knew where my clit was. But the
eagerness of her licks allowed her to find it every few
strokes and each time sent an electric shock from the
base of my spine, through my nipples and back again to
my cunt.
Just then I heard footsteps in the hallway! I froze and
grabbed Mitzi's head and held it still between my
thighs.
"You in there, Mrs. Robertson?" It was the custodian!
"Yes, it's just me, Mr. Wilson," I croaked. I know my
voice had to sound incredibly strange. It didn't help
that Mitzi continued to run the tip of her tongue along
my crease, despite my best efforts to hold her still.
"Are you okay?"
"Oh, I'm fine," I lied, "just gathering up a few things
before I go home." I was praying he wouldn't stick his
head all the way in my room and see the look on my
face. I'd be busted for sure.
"All right, then, I'll be back to clean in a few
minutes when you're gone."
"Mr. Wilson, would you mind pushing my door shut?" It
was all I could do to get those last few words out.
"Sure thing, ma'am." The sound of the closing door was
probably the sweetest thing I'd ever heard.
I breathed an immense sigh of relief and I felt the
strength drain out of my body. Sensing an opening,
Mitzi forced her tongue farther inside and began to lap
at my inner folds. That was too much. My body exploded.
Lights flashed. Every muscle in my body tensed and then
went slack as wave after wave of pleasure washed over
me.
The combination of danger, forbidden fruit, and sheer
physical sensation combined to make it the most intense
orgasm of my entire life.
When I finally came down from that incredible climax, I
slowly opened my eyes and saw Mitzi sitting there at my
feet with her knees tucked under her. Her head was
resting against my leg, and she was staring at me with
those big brown eyes. She also had a very self-
satisfied smile on her face that told me she knew
exactly how much I'd enjoyed what she did to me. But
the thing that really got to me was that almost her
entire face was slick and shiny with my juices. She had
buried her pretty face in my pussy and refused to pull
away until she made me cum. And the results were there
on her face for all to see.
I reached down and took her by the shoulders, pulling
her upward and toward me. She was standing again, there
between my knees, and I took her face in my hands and
brought her mouth to mine. "Thank you, Mitzi," I
whispered softly and then I kissed her full on the
mouth. Kissed her like a lover. Kissed her hungrily.
And she returned every one of those kisses.
"See," she giggled when I finally released her lips for
a few seconds. "I told you we shouldn't stop."
"Oh, but Mitzi, we must stop. This just isn't right,
and it's going to have an unhappy ending."
"Don't worry, Mrs. Robertson, no one will ever know.
And don't forget, my mother works all day Saturday. We
can have the apartment to ourselves for the whole day."
With that, Mitzi smiled that wonderful smile, and
turned toward my classroom door.
"No, Mitzi, I can't..."
But she was already out the door. Either she didn't
hear what I'd said, or she chose to ignore me.
****
My heart was still racing from the excitement and
danger of driving around town with nothing on but my
short little top, and my pussy ached with arousal. The
quick orgasm I'd managed at that light a little ways
back helped some. But my need was growing again as I
wondered, dreaded what might lie ahead of me that day.
I glanced down at the printed copy of an email between
my bare legs—a paper now smeared with the nectar from
my arousal—and reread the address that Mitzi had sent
me that morning. Thirteen forty-three Mansfield Drive,
it read. I was familiar with the area, a nice middle-
class neighborhood on the northwest side of town.
I ran my fingers through my long, dark hair, trying to
brush it back from my face a little. "Shit," I muttered
under my breath when I realized that I'd just massaged
some of my pussy juice into my hair. As if I didn't
smell enough like fucking already. "Well, I guess I'll
just smell like a whore until I can get a shower," I
thought to myself.
I made a left turn at Mansfield and eased my small red
compact down the block, looking from one side of the
street to the other, trying to locate number 1343. The
street was lined by neat yards with a good number of
mature trees, some so big that they blocked my view of
the house numbers until I was right in front.
A few children were playing along the sidewalks,
enjoying their freedom from school and the warm
weather. But, generally, things were pretty quiet. It
was mid-afternoon, and most of the parents were away at
work. A lot of the younger kids were inside taking
naps.
I was glad to see that not too many people were around
because my instructions were clear. I had been ordered
to park in the driveway of 1343 Mansfield, walk to the
front door, ring the bell, and wait. That's all Mitzi
told me. To wait. I assumed someone would open the door
and be expecting me. But who would it be?
Oh yes, and there is that little matter of my being
naked from the waist down while I was making my way
from the car to the porch. I hoped like hell that
whoever was going to open the door would do it quickly.
Lost in thought over what I was about to do, I almost
passed the house I was looking for and had to slam on
the breaks. The tires squealed a little, and I tensed
up, hoping that I hadn't called attention to myself. I
pulled into the driveway, with my heart about to beat
out of my chest. It was time to steel myself for the
nearly-nude walk to the front door and for whatever was
on the other side.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, I noticed two young
women, probably babysitters, walking slowly down the
sidewalk following three kids riding small bicycles.
Two of them were still using training wheels, so they
were going quite slowly. I knew I certainly had to let
them get well-past before trying to make it to the
house.
I scooted myself low in the seat, hoping they wouldn't
see me sitting there in the driveway and come up to ask
if I needed some help or something. I hoped the kids
would distract them. As my bottom slid lower in the
seat, I left a wet trail of nectar on the soft leather,
another reminder of what this afternoon was all about.
Even in my state of apprehension, I was still so
aroused that I couldn't keep from reaching down and
touching myself gently as I waited for the people to
pass by.
As I waited and played my fingers lightly along my
swollen lips, I closed my eyes and thought back to how
I got here in the first place.
****
I was always exhausted the Saturday after school
dismissed for the summer and usually ended up sleeping
until noon. But not this day. I'd slept only fitfully
Friday night, to the point that Dave finally asked me
if there was something bothering me. Of course I said
no, and tried to be still, as I lay there thinking
about everything that had gone on between Mitzi and me
during the past week.
I still couldn't believe that I'd first seduced my
seventh grade student, then let her seduce me right in
my classroom. I was on the verge of committing
professional suicide and very possibly getting sent to
jail, and all I could think of was how sweet her little
cunt tasted when I took her there in her apartment last
Saturday, and how eagerly she returned the favor after
school the following Monday.
My juices began to flow as I lay there and thought
about her firm little body and those womanly breasts
that she had developed during the nine months she was
in my class. And most of all, I thought of how she had
urged me to come to her apartment today while her
mother was at work.
"We can have almost the whole day together," she'd told
me, and I could only imagine what we could do to each
other in that amount of time.
But at the same time, my guilt about the whole thing
was getting to be almost unbearable. I had to steel
myself and stay away from that girl! I knew nothing
good could possibly come from our relationship...except
for how good my pussy felt when she lapped at it with
her eager young tongue.
Little ribbons of light were beginning to filter in
though the blinds on our bedroom window, and I had
decided I might as well get up so as not to bother
Dave's sleep any more. But about that time, he rolled
over toward my side of the bed and draped his arm over
my stomach. He was rousing a bit and that move usually
meant he was going to be "frisky" in the morning.
Sure enough, it wasn't long before the arm moved upward
and his hand just "happened" to come to rest on my left
breast. Still, he was not fully awake, but we had
things pretty much on automatic pilot when it came to
sex after nearly 15 years of marriage.
I was sleeping in a long T shirt and panties and Dave
was wearing nothing but his boxers. I glanced over at
him, his eyes still closed but with a little half-smile
forming on his lips, and it reminded me how much I
loved him, and how much I needed to end this...this
thing...I was having with Mitzi. And end it quickly.
By now, Dave had stopped feigning sleep and opened his
eyes and smiled at me. It was a smile that always
melted my heart, and I rolled toward him, put my face
very close to his and whispered, "Do you know how much
I love you, baby?" I followed it up with a big, wet
kiss, pressing my lips to his and hungrily thrusting my
tongue in his mouth.
"Mmmmmmm. What's that all about?" He asked. With us,
kissing had become less and less a part of our
lovemaking over the years, so that kind of display had
to be a bit of a surprise to him.
"I just want you," I whispered, "that's all."
And with that, I sat up and threw one leg over his
waist and sat on my startled husband. In one smooth
motion, I peeled the T shirt off and smiled as he
reached up and began to massage my breasts with both
hands. I leaned forward, resting my hands on either
side of his face and dragged my erect nipples slowly
over his muscular chest. I always loved the way his
fine chest hair tickled them when I did that.
I kissed him again and could feel his cock springing to
attention behind me. Dave always wakes up at about
"half-mast,"and it took practically no time at all for
him to get fully erect as a result of my attentions. I
reached behind me and slid my hand inside his boxers
and ran it along the length of his shaft, up and down,
several times. I hadn't been with many men in my life.
None since Dave and I married. But in my limited
experience, and from some comments I'd heard from some
of the other female teachers at school, I felt as
though Dave had a pretty nice cock. It was about eight
inches long, and thick enough that my fingers could
barely reach all the way around it.
But this morning, it felt especially big, and
especially nice. And I guess what I was doing to it
felt pretty nice, too, because I could feel a little
precum beginning to ooze from it, and each time I gave
it a squeeze, I felt a little jerk in return.
Dave was lying on his back with his eyes closed, just
enjoying my impromptu hand job. I was already highly
aroused from lying in bed all night thinking about
Mitzi, and I didn't want, or need, to spend a lot of
time on foreplay. I just needed to cum really bad.
Turning loose of his cock, I leaned forward again, once
more pressing my hard nipples into his chest. "I want
to be your whore, baby," I whispered to my startled
husband. "I want you to fuck me like the bad girl I
am."
Now occasionally, Dave and I would play little games
with each other. But he was not used to hearing such
talk from me. He looked at me with wide eyes, and just
lay there as if he didn't know quite what to make of
it.
"I've been a bad girl," I repeated, my voice now husky
with the arousal that was building in me.
"Pleaaaaasssse. Fuck me like I deserve."
I didn't have to say any more. Dave had the message. He
threw me off him and nearly tore his boxers off. His
cock was standing stiffly at attention and I could see
it throb and pulse with each beat of his heart. And his
heart seemed to be beating rather fast by that point.
"Get on your hands and knees, whore," he said sternly,
"I'm going to fuck your naughty ass." And with that, he
yanked down my panties and shoved me into position on
all fours in front of him.
I felt the head of his cock tracing along my crease,
searching for just the right place to part them. And it
wasn't long before he found it. Dave grabbed my hips
hard as he shoved himself almost all the way in on the
very first stroke. I think he was a little surprised at
how smoothly his big cock entered me. We usually had to
work our way up to it.
"So my naughty girl is really wet for me, huh," he
chuckled.
"Oh, god, yes, baby," I panted back, not letting him
know that a good part of that wetness was for my little
Mitzi. "Now fuck me!" This time I nearly screamed it.
Dave was always good about doing as he was told. And
this time was no exception. He began to pound in and
out of me with deep, hard strokes. He'd pull his eight
inches nearly all the way out, then thrust it as deep
as possible. His thrusting was coming faster and
faster, his heavy balls slapping my clit each time he
bottomed out. But even that wasn't enough stimulation
to take care of what I needed that morning. So I slid
one hand underneath and began to rub my clit furiously,
taking myself higher and higher toward what I knew
would be a crushing orgasm.
Then I surprised even myself. "Spank me!" I hissed at
my startled husband. I'd never asked for that before,
never even wanted it. But today was different.
Totally taken off guard, Dave paused for just a moment,
as if asking an unspoken question. But the last thing I
wanted him to do was stop. I wanted him to take me.
Take me right then. Harder. Faster. Deeper.
"Spank me, goddammit!" I hissed, turning around to see
the startled expression on his face.
But this time he got the message, and I felt the first
smack of his hand on my right buttock.
"Harder!" I yelled, reaching down again and tugging at
my clit.
I didn't have to tell him again. The second blow
brought tears to my eyes. And that was just what I
needed right then. I wanted, needed to hurt and feel
good at the same time. That was the perfect symbolism
for my life at that moment.
Smack! Another swat, this one on my left cheek. Then
another, and another, and another. And each time Dave's
hand came down hard on my ass, I could feel his cock
pulse inside me. The little spasms were beginning for
me, too.
Finally, after probably ten hard swats, neither of us
could take any more. Dave grabbed my hips again with
both hands and began pumping even harder than before.
He pushed me forward until I was resting on my elbows,
my sore red bottom thrust into the air to meet him each
time he buried his hard cock once more.
Finally, he made one more deep thrust and just froze. I
knew it was time, and I took my clit between two
fingers and began to pinch and roll it until I felt
this explosion deep at my core that began shooting out
to every inch of my body. I felt Dave's cock begin to
throb and spasm, just as my cunt began those rolling
waves that clutched and milked it.
One, two, three, four, times I felt him jerk against my
throbbing tunnel, filling me with his hot semen. But it
wasn't nearly enough. I was on fire, crazy with lust,
and I needed more. So I began to rub my swollen clit as
fast as I could and rolled right from my first orgasm
into a second that finally caused me to collapse flat
on the bed. Spent. Exhausted. With Dave's softening
cock still clutched inside me.
He was so spent, too, that it was all he could do to
keep from crushing me with his 180 pounds. But he
managed to prop himself up just enough to keep from
flattening me all together. Finally, I felt his
shrinking cock slide out, followed very shortly by what
felt like a river of our mingled juices. I'm not sure
Dave had ever cum like that before, and I knew I
hadn't.
He rolled over on his side and began rubbing his hands
lightly over my tender bottom. His hand felt cool
compared with the enflamed flesh there. "God, Susan,
what was that about?" he asked, sounding almost worried
that something had gone a little haywire with his
normally conservative wife.
"Mmmmmmmm," was all I could manage in my post-orgasmic
bliss. Besides, I didn't think it would be too wise to
mention that one of my students had lit the fire that I
needed him to put out that morning.
"I'm sorry, babe," he said, "but I've got to get a
shower and head over to the university to finish my
enrollment for summer school. I think maybe we should
talk some more."
"It's okay," I told him, my voice barely above a
whisper. "I can't move right now."
He laughed as he got up and headed into the bathroom,
and I just lay there on my stomach, thinking about what
I wanted so badly to do later that day. And trying with
all my strength to talk myself out of doing it.
But the resolve just wasn't there. I knew I would see
Mitzi that day. Knew that I would taste her tender
pussy once more. Knew that I would regret it.
And I slid my hand slowly underneath my limp body,
cupped my sopping pussy until the heel of my hand was
pressing my clitoris just right, and brought myself to
my third orgasm of the morning.
I finally dragged myself out of bed around ten,
showered, dressed and started pacing. I walked from one
room to another, even out into the back yard, where I
hoped the fresh air would bring me to my senses. But no
luck.
Back in the house, I paused in front of the large
mirror hanging in our entryway and just stared at the
face reflected there. It was a pretty face, I had to
acknowledge. But there was something about the
eyes...my eyes. There was an intensity there that I
didn't usually see, a sort of burning. If the eyes
truly are the window to the soul, it was clear that my
need for Mitzi went that deep. The need I saw there
scared me so much I had to turn away.
But it also convinced me that I might as well quit
putting it off. I was going to see Mitzi that day, so I
might as well quit stalling and head over to her
apartment. When I arrived and rang the bell, Mitzi
greeted me at the door with a smile. She didn't seem at
all surprised to see me, even though the last thing she
heard from me was that we must not see each other any
more.
"Oh, hi, Mrs. Robertson," she smiled, those dark eyes
sparkling at me. "Come on in. I was just chatting
online and I need to say goodbye to my friend."
I never understood the fascination of Mitzi's
generation with sitting in front of a computer hour
after hour when they could actually be with REAL
people. But there were apparently a lot of things I
didn't understand about Mitzi's generation. Or at least
about Mitzi.
I watched as she walked across the combination
living/dining room toward her computer desk on the far
wall. I always enjoyed watching her from behind, with
her firm rounded hips that swayed so sensuously. Even
at her young age, her body just exuded sexuality, and I
wondered if she practiced the way she presented herself
or whether it was simply in her DNA.
She was wearing some loose fitting athletic shorts,
made of a red silky fabric. They were very short, too,
and with each step they revealed just a hint of the
curve of her bottom peeking out from underneath. She
had paired them with a white tank top with very thin
straps. And that was all. No shoes, obviously no bra
from the way her pert young breasts revealed themselves
when she was facing me, and I was betting no panties,
either.
She sat briefly in her computer chair, typed a bit on
the keyboard, apparently taking leave of her online
friend, then turn to me with a warm smile. "There, that
should take care of things, "she said and began to walk
back to where I was still standing.
She walked up and stood very close and said softly,
"I'm really glad you decided to come, Mrs. Robertson."
And with that she reached out and took my hand and
began leading me over to the sofa.
"Wait a minute, Mitzi. Didn't you hear a thing I said
that day after class? We just have to stop this."
"Don't you want me, Mrs. Robertson?" she said, her
voice rising to sound like a little girl's. But I knew
she didn't really want an answer to her question. She
already knew it. She knew I wanted her...desperately.
But she was just teasing, tempting me.
She led us over to the couch and plopped down on one
end while I sat on the other, watching her and
wondering how long I could refrain from taking her in
my arms and holding her young body close to me again.
She turned sideways to face me and drew one leg
underneath her. As she shifted positions, her loose
shorts gapped and confirmed my suspicion that she was
not wearing panties. That brief glimpse of the soft
skin so close to her tight little pussy was more than I
could take. My nipples instantly sprang to attention
and I could feel the dampness between my legs.
"I like it when you look at me like that," Mrs.
Robertson. "It makes me feel all tingly."
I didn't quite know what to say to that. I didn't
really want to admit that it made me tingly, too. After
all, I was not the one who was thirteen years old. I
just felt like it. Mitzi looked into my eyes and began
to caress herself slowly, sensuously. She ran her
fingertips lightly over her erect nipples, which were
trying to poke their way through her thin white tank
top.
Almost without thinking, I reached up and began to do
the same—mirroring the seductive actions of my 13-year-
old student. When she saw me start to caress myself as
she was doing, she began to smile, a little mocking
smile that seemed to be saying that she could have her
way with me anytime she wanted. It must have been that
look that snapped me out of my sexually-induced trance.
"This is crazy," I thought to myself. "I'm the adult
here. I'm the teacher. And here I am letting this
seductive little bitch control me like this!"
I don't quite understand what happened next, but a sort
of fire just washed over me. I felt this crazy jumble
of emotions all at once. I was angry, excited,
scared...all at the same time. Before I even quite
realized it, I reached across the sofa and grabbed
Mitzi by her arm and pulled her over to me.
"All right, young lady," I nearly shouted at her.
"We'll see who's in control here!"
Of course, I could physically handle Mitzi with ease.
She was barely over five feet and I was more than half
a foot taller. I must have outweighed her by 30 pounds
or more. And with the rush of emotions I was feeling
right then, her little body felt like a rag doll's in
my grip.
Her mouth was open and her eyes wide as I tightened my
grip on her arm even more and dragged her to me. "I'm
going to teach you what happens to little sluts," I
yelled, "who flaunt their bodies like that!" And with
that I turned the astonished Mitzi over my lap and
prepared to administer the first spanking I'd ever
given anyone.
Oh, I had been on the receiving end of numerous
spankings from my mom and dad. Both of them had whipped
me as I was growing up, and looking back, I had needed
it every time. Always over their laps. Always with a
bare bottom. With their hands most of the time, but
occasionally when I had really been bad, with a belt
(dad) or a hairbrush (mom). The last spanking I
received was when I was 16 and took the car without
permission shortly after I'd received my license. That
time, it was dad with the belt, and I'd never forget
it.
But I had never done anything to approach Mitzi's
transgressions. Intentionally not wearing panties to
class. Showing off her bare little pussy to the
teacher. Acting like the little tramp. Of course, I was
loath to acknowledge my own contribution to her
behavior because, after all, I was desperately trying
to control myself, and she was just egging me on.
I pushed my left hand into her back to hold her in
place while I reached with my right to pull down her
loose shorts. By now, some of her astonishment had been
replaced by fear, and Mitzi began to kick her legs,
trying to free herself from my grasp. Of course, my
superior size and strength allowed me easily to keep
her in place over my lap.
"Stop it, Mitzi," I hissed at her. "Stop struggling or
you're only going to get it worse."
Apparently realizing from my harsh tone that I meant
business, she stopped kicking and lay quietly over my
knees. I could hear little sobs erupting from her
throat as the realization of what was about to happen
sank in.
"All right, Mitzi. You've needed this for a long time.
Your mother should have done it a lot more often. Have
you ever been spanked?"
"N_n_no," she sobbed, the word catching in her throat.
"Please don't hurt me, Mrs. Robertson!" She started to
struggle a little, and I responded with a hard smack on
the right cheek of her firm, rounded ass.
"Owwwwww!" she yelled. "Stop it, you bitch!" She tried
to reach around with one hand and shield her bottom,
but I grabbed her hand and quickly moved it out of the
way.
And with that, I rained down a half-dozen more hard
strokes on Mitzi's bare young bottom, alternating from
one cheek to the other until both were pink and warm
from my efforts. And despite her struggles, I kept her
firmly planted on my lap.
"Now, Mitzi, the more you struggle, the worse it's
going to be. Each time you struggle, I'm going to give
you six extra swats. Now lie still."
She lay across my lap, her breaths coming in quick
gulps. Her face was red with anger and pain and tears
were beginning to trickle down both cheeks. "All right,
dear, that's better," I told her soothingly as she
ceased her struggling. "You know you've been bad. You
know you deserve this, so let's get it over with, shall
we?"
Mitzi didn't say a word. She just gave out a little
whimper and closed her eyes tight in anticipation of
what was to come. As she lay there nearly limp across
my knees, I realized that this spanking was having an
unexpected effect on me. My nipples had grown harder,
almost painfully sensitive to the thin fabric of my bra
pressing against them. And the moistness between my
legs had been transformed to a large wet patch on the
front panel of my panties. I could tell by the warmth
in my cheeks that my face was flushed and I could
imagine what I must look like.
But I didn't spend too much time thinking about it. I
intended to finish what I'd started. So I went to work
again. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! The swats came one after
the other. Hard ones that hurt my hand and that turned
Mitzi's ass from a warm pink to a bright red. By the
time I had administered the final 12, she was sobbing
loudly, but doing her best not to resist, so as not
meriting any additional swats.
"All right, Mitzi," I said soothingly, "you can get up
now." And with that, she slowly climbed off my lap and
began that post-spanking dance that I had done so many
times myself. She shifted quickly from one foot to the
other there in front of me, while she rubbed both hands
gently over her tender red ass. Her shorts were still
around her ankles, and I noticed as I glanced at her
nearly bare pussy that her lips were quite moist.
"Now, Mitzi," I said gently, "do you understand who is
in charge here now?"
She didn't look at me, keeping her eyes fixed on the
floor near my feet. But she did nod her head.
"All right, that's better. From now on, I will be the
one who decides whether, or even if, we have sex. Is
that clear?"
Another nod.
"And when I say 'no,' I mean no. Understood?"
"Yes, ma'am." It was the first time she had ever called
me ma'am.
"Very well. Now come over here, Mitzi."
She stepped out of her shorts and walked the few steps
back to where I was still sitting on the couch. I
extended my arms to her and without a word, she climbed
up on my lap and laid her damp cheek against my
shoulder. All of the strength seemed to have been
drained from her limp little body. I enveloped her in
my arms and held her tightly, as I kissed her forehead
over and over.
I ran my left hand slowly up the inside of her thigh,
using my fingertips to caress her lightly. She let out
a little contented sigh and shifted her weight
slightly, parting her legs just a bit more. As my hand
played up and down, I realized that the insides of both
thighs were slick with her nectar, and it was clear
that on some level at least, she had enjoyed the
spanking.
Of course, I had, too, even though I didn't want to
admit it to myself. It was not really punishment for
Mitzi, or an attempt to put her on the right road. It
was just another chapter in the twisted little story we
were writing together. And with that thought, I slipped
one finger into her tight little hole and began to stir
her tender folds.
"Mmmmmmmm," was all she could manage, as I moved my
thumb to her little clit. I pressed, massaged, flicked
and stirred...over and over again until Mitzi raised
her face to look directly at me. I could see her eyes
were asking for more. So I gently lifted her from my
lap and sat her on the couch, moving her little bottom
near the edge where I could reach her.
My tongue moved to her wet opening and began to probe
and lick. She made little mewing sounds as I tasted her
juices, then pressed the tip of my tongue into her
tightness. I inserted my finger once again and took her
clit between my lips. She began to buck against my
mouth almost immediately and I wrapped my arms around
her hips to hold her in place. Her juices oozed out
onto my tongue as she came for me. I don't think I had
ever tasted anything so sweet.
She lay there spent for a long time, panting at the
excitement and exertion. I lay crumpled there at her
feet, also exhausted from the intense emotions that had
been flooding through me ever since arriving at Mitzi's
that day.
In a minute, I felt something pressing against my
shoulders and I opened my eyes to see Mitzi moving over
me, encouraging me to lie back. I was only too glad to,
and soon, she had moved between my legs, raising my
full skirt up around my waist. Not even bothering to
slip my soaking panties off, she began to suck on the
saturated material.
"Oh, Mrs. Robertson," she said, looking up into my
eyes, "you taste so good."
"Given what we're doing, Mitzi, I think it would be
fine for you to call me Susan," I answered with a
smile.
"Oh, no," she whispered. "I want to call you Mrs.
Robertson so we'll both remember how bad this is."
And with that, my young lover pulled the crotch of my
panties aside, thrust her tongue tight against my
swollen clit, and brought me to a thunderous orgasm.
****
Thinking back on that Saturday in Mitzi's apartment
just fueled my arousal even more. Sitting in my car in
a driveway of a house I'd never been to before, I
wondered what was in store for me. Slumping low in the
seat to hide myself from passersby, I looked at myself.
I was naked except for the short little pullover top I
had been told to wear. Mitzi had been very specific
with her instructions. She apparently liked the idea of
my driving across town, flirting with the possibility
of getting caught out in public like this. The little
bitch! It probably turned her on. I hated to admit it,
but it turned me on, too.
I glanced at the clock on the dashboard of the car.
4:30. I had another thirty minutes to kill before
ringing the bell at the house and finding out what
Mitzi had in store. My heart pounded at the thought of
what might be on the other side of that door when I
rang the bell. Who would open it and see me like this?
Nearly naked. Aroused. Anything but the conservative
school teacher that my friends and colleagues had come
to know.
My cunt was on fire as I thought how sick and perverse
this whole thing was. Being ordered around like a
sexual slave by some 13-year-old slut. My mind told me
I should put a stop to it. But my body loved every
minute!
I closed my eyes and pictured Mitzi's tight little body
again. It was that image that got me in trouble in the
first place...tempting me until I took her that first
time at her apartment. I could still taste her sweet
juices on my tongue.
My nectar began to literally drip from my swollen lips.
My clit was hard, already fully out from its hood.
Three fingers slipped easily inside my gaping slit, and
I quickly found my g-spot and began to massage and
stimulate it.
But the sensations just weren't enough for me in my
enflamed state. I looked around the car, desperately
seeking something that could satisfy my need to be
filled. Nothing. Then I popped open the console and
there it was—the flashlight I always kept handy for
emergencies.
I reached over, took the silver handle and ran my
fingers along the cool metal of the shaft. It must have
been nearly 12 inches long, with little ribs set close
together running the full length. Without even
thinking, I grabbed it with both hands and placed the
end at my opening. It must have been about twice as big
around as my husband's cock, and my fingers wouldn't
quite reach all the way around it.
As if some unseen force was applying the pressure, the
shaft began to sink slowly but surely into my wet
tunnel. It stretched me a bit, but in my current state
of arousal, my cunt just seemed to open up and swallow
it. Before long, three-quarters of the length was
buried inside me and little more than the part with the
glass lens and bulb was sticking out.
I took the ring that secured the lens in place and
began to twist, first one way, then the other. The
ribbing on the shaft created an amazing sensation on my
tender folds, and I heard myself moan softly as I began
to settle into a rhythm.
Pulling...pushing...twisting...pulling...turning...and
so it went as I fucked myself wantonly with the
flashlight.
****
The email was waiting for me when I got home that
Saturday afternoon after the spanking episode with
Mitzi. I had been so unsettled by the whole jumble of
emotions I'd felt during and after I smacked her firm
young ass some two dozen times, I couldn't possibly go
straight home. I was in no shape to see Dave and act as
if nothing was wrong.
So I drove around for probably two hours, time enough I
hoped to collect myself. It was after six by the time I
got home and Dave greeted me with a worried look.
"Jesus, honey, I was worried about you."
"It's okay," I lied. "I was just doing a little
shopping." And then I caught myself, realizing I had no
packages or bags. "Window shopping. At the mall."
"How about letting me know next time?" he scolded.
"I really am sorry. I just lost track of time."
Eager to avoid any further discussion with Dave for the
moment, I went into the spare bedroom we use as a home
office and turned on the computer. I didn't spend much
time at all online, but I did try to check emails
nearly every day because I found it to be a good way to
communicate with my students and their parents. And
with school just out, there was a good possibility that
I might have a few loose ends still to deal with.
I waited for the computer to initialize, then logged
onto email. As I scanned down the names in the inbox, I
saw one from "hotmitzi6969." My heart jumped into my
throat and my hands got sweaty. The subject was "looks
like fun."
My hands were shaking as I highlighted the message and
opened it. It was from Mitzi all right. "Dear Mrs.
Robertson," it read. "I had a lot of fun 2day. Hope u
did, 2. I 4got and left my web cam on. Hope u enjoy
watching us as much as I did!"
It was signed "Your student, Mitzi," followed by a
smiley face icon.
I honestly thought I was going to throw up. The idea
that she might have recorded what went on in her
apartment earlier that day scared me to death. It could
be the end of my career, my marriage, my life as I
currently knew it.
Steeling myself to what I was sure I would see, I
clicked on the media icon in the attachment and watched
numbly as the entire sick scene unfolded before my
eyes. There was Mitzi sitting on the couch with me. Me
grabbing her and pulling her pants down. The spanking.
And of course, all the rest that followed.
I couldn't believe the look on my face as I spanked
her! It was like watching another person entirely. And
then, when she pressed her face between my legs...It
was simply too much. I tried to cover my eyes as it
played, but I couldn't bear to look away, either.
In a few minutes, I came to my senses and quickly
deleted Mitzi's email. I never wanted to see the thing
again! But I knew that Mitzi still had the file, and I
was petrified to think what she might do with it.
I turned off the computer, tore off my clothes and
jumped into the shower. I scrubbed much too hard, as if
I were trying to rid myself of all the remnants of the
day. But even after nearly an hour under the steamy
spray, I could still smell Mitzi's sweet scent in my
nostrils.
****
It didn't take long before I found out what Mitzi
planned to do with the video. She was going to use it
to fuck with my mind.
Her next email arrived on Sunday afternoon. It read,
"Mom leaves 4 work @ noon Mon. Be here 12:30." This
time she signed it, "Hugs, Mitzi," followed by an icon
that looked like a little purple devil face.
Then there was the P.S. "Wear a dress/no panties."
I knew I had no choice but to do what Mitzi said. She
didn't threaten to show the video of us to anyone. She
didn't have to. We both knew she could do it. And we
both knew what would happen. She would be treated as
the poor, wronged student. And I would be the soon-to-
be registered sex offender.
So after a sleepless Sunday night, I saw Dave off to a
full day of class at the university, and got myself
ready to go over to Mitzi's. I decided to wear the same
yellow sundress I'd worn the first time I was with her.
It had a full skirt and built in bra, and since I was
not supposed to wear panties, all I had to do was slip
it over my head, adjust my breasts into the snug top,
and I was dressed.
I trudged up the steps to Mitzi's apartment at 12:30
sharp. I didn't even have to ring the bell. Mitzi must
have been watching for me from her window. She flashed
a big smile as she waved me inside.
If I hadn't been so apprehensive, I probably would have
laughed out loud. There was Mitzi, wearing what was
obviously her mother's leather skirt. She apparently
had also borrowed a pair of knee-high black boots from
her mom's closet. She had paired that with a black tube
top that she must have bought before her boobs grew
because it was much too tight and pressed her rounded
globes almost flat against her chest. But the tightness
allowed me to see that her nipples were straining to
poke through the stretchy fabric.
Her black hair was pulled back tight into a little bun,
and she had used black lipstick and eye shadow to
emphasize her supposedly menacing appearance. She
looked as if she had found some bd/sm site on the web
and tried to copy the look using things she could find
around her apartment. I started to chuckle just a bit,
but stopped when her face clouded with anger and I
remembered the video. I also noticed what she was
holding in her right hand.
It was a wooden brush with a long handle, probably
nearly two feet. The head was round and about six
inches in diameter. White bristles stood stiffly from
the wooden base. It was way too big for a hair brush.
It must have been a back brush for people who have
trouble washing certain spots without assistance.
Despite its benign function, it had a menacing
appearance when held by a 13-year-old "domme," who
undoubtedly intended to apply it vigorously to my bare
ass.
"Hello, Mrs. Robertson," Mitzi greeted me. "I'm glad
you came over to play today."
"Did I really have any choice, dear?" My tone was
sarcastic, and it was clear Mitzi didn't like it.
"Shut up!" she barked at me, her face stern, eyes
burning.
I felt my stomach jump at her sudden change in
demeanor. I wasn't sure if she was playing a role or if
she was really angry. Actually, I wasn't sure about
anything any more.
"Go over to the end of the couch," she ordered, and I
walked slowly over to where I'd sat and paddled her
little bottom just two days ago. This time, it looked
as if the tables were going to be turned. "Pull up your
dress and bend over the arm," she instructed brusquely.
I did as she said, and settled my belly against the arm
of the sofa. I leaned forward until my elbows were
resting on the cushions and my feet were barely
touching the floor. Naturally, my bare bottom was
thrust well up in the air, just right for what Mitzi
had planned.
My breaths were beginning to come faster, and I felt
myself begin to lubricate. Those little butterflies
were taking over my stomach like they always do when
I'm in the early stages of arousal.
"You liked spanking me the other day, didn't you, Mrs.
Robertson? Mitzi cooed.
I just lay there quietly, my heart pounding in my
chest. "Didn't you!" she screamed. Her tone actually
frightened me a little bit, even though I was sure this
was all a game to her. Wasn't it?
"Yes...I suppose I did," I responded, my voice
quivering slightly.
"It made you hot, didn't it?" By this time, Mitzi was
running the flat side of the wooden brush lightly over
my backside. "It made your pussy wet." Then she turned
the head of the brush on its edge and ran it up and
down my crack, spreading the cheeks just a little with
each up and down motion.
"Well, I think you're going to like it even more being
on the other end." And without further warning, she
drew her arm back and brought the flat wooden head of
the brush crashing down on my exposed flesh. The impact
sounded like a gunshot and literally took my breath
away. My eyes filled with tears and my right cheek
burned like fire.
"Wait just a minute," I demanded, standing up to my
full 5-8 and looking down on this little girl who
thought she was going to spank my ass. I was angry, at
Mitzi for pushing things too far and at myself for
allowing it. Startled by the look on my face, Mitzi
took one step back, but didn't retreat any farther. She
knew she had the ultimate weapon on her side.
"Who do you want to see the video first?" she demanded.
"Your husband or the principal?"
My shoulders slumped at those words. At least it was
now out in the open. I was officially being
blackmailed. Without another word, I turned back around
and lay over the couch once more.
"That's better, Mrs. Robertson. I knew you'd enjoy
playing like this."
And without another word, Mitzi began raining blow
after blow down on my tender bottom. The hard surface
of the brush alternated from one cheek to the other,
the loud cracks echoing throughout the apartment. After
the fourth swat, my bottom was on fire! Tears were
running down my cheeks and my throat hurt from holding
in the sobs that were trying to escape.
But Mitzi was far from through. Six...eight...ten. I
finally lost count at a dozen. But there were at least
five or six more before she finally finished. When I
was sure she was through, I started to push myself up
by my hands from the couch. I needed to rub my aching
bottom, to try and soothe the pain that Mitzi had so
eagerly and expertly inflicted.
But before I could stand, I heard her again. But her
voice was different this time. Much softer. "Stay
there, please, "she whispered. And I slumped back down
again, my burning ass still in the air.
To my surprise, Mitzi began to kiss my stinging bottom
all over, very lightly and tenderly. Her warm breath
actually felt cool to my burning flesh. Then she began
to caress me lightly with her hands, soothing the
tender skin, seemingly trying to comfort me. I let out
a heavy sigh and relaxed more than at any time since
I'd entered the apartment some thirty minutes earlier.
I realized that the spanking had indeed aroused me and
I allowed that tingling feeling to spread from deep in
my belly outward until I could feel the need in every
extremity.
Just then, Mitzi's hands were replaced with something
hard pressing between my cheeks. I glanced over my
shoulder and saw that she was using the wooden handle
of the brush to trace up and down the length of my
crack. My juices were practically running down my legs
by this time, and each time Mitzi moved the handle
lower, she'd slip it just inside my lips and moisten
the tip. Then she'd drag the moisture back and use it
to lubricate the tender flesh all along my crack.
After a half dozen trips like that, my ass was nearly
as wet as my pussy, and the handle of the brush glided
easily over the slick flesh. Finally, Mitzi paused,
with the handle poised against the tight ring of my
anus. And she began to push...gently at first, but with
increasing pressure.
I started to protest, but the only sound that escaped
my parted lips was a low moan. Mitzi took that as a
sound of approval, and pushed harder still, until
finally the rounded end of the handle stretched me far
enough to slide through into my most secret place. My
little rosebud gripped it tightly and slowed its
progress for a few moments. But Mitzi was patient, and
when she felt me relax, she began to push once more,
this time twisting the handle as she went.
The intense pressure literally lifted my feet from the
floor and caused my belly to press harder into the arm
of the sofa. In turn, it made it harder for me to
breathe. I was gasping, panting with arousal, with
pain, with shame. I was being sodomized by my middle
school student who had just administered the spanking
of my life. And I was loving every minute of it!
Finally, Mitzi stopped her assault and allowed the
handle to rest, probably six inches or so inside my
tight tunnel. My walls molded around it, and I could
feel the little spasms begin as my orgasm approached.
The walls of my pussy were beginning to pulse and
contract and started a chain reaction that caused my
ring to grip the brush handle even tighter.
The sensations began tumbling one over the other, like
a boulder rolling down a steep hill. There was
absolutely no stopping it. Realizing I was close, Mitzi
thrust two fingers inside my dripping cunt and began to
massage my spot vigorously. With the other, she twisted
the handle in my ass, first one way, then the other.
Over and over again until I opened my mouth to scream
and found that I didn't even have the strength to do
that.
My contractions washed over me in waves, engulfing me
totally, before receding slightly and claiming me
completely once more. Every muscle of my body was
taught, and the electric jolts of pleasure exploded
from deep in my throbbing cunt, taking possession of my
entire body. The last thing I remember before losing
consciousness was Mitzi's voice.
"That's it...that's my good little slut."
****
Over the course of the next month or so, Mitzi
controlled me almost completely. I couldn't believe
that she had consciously learned the art of domination
at her young age. It must have come so naturally to her
that she instinctively knew what to do. About once a
week, she would send me an email with another
"assignment," as she liked to call them.
They varied in nature, but all of them were designed to
expose me potentially to public humiliation, at best,
and legal action, at worst. Of course, each and every
"assignment" turned me on incredibly.
The instructions would arrive by email. And each time I
saw a message from "hotmitzi6969," my heart would leap
into my throat, my pulse would pound...and my pussy
would get wet. The first one called for me to go out to
the local mall, sit on a bench near the food court, and
touch myself until I climaxed. Of course, Mitzi would
come along to watch and enjoy the proceedings.
I decided to wear a long, full skirt that day, in order
to provide ready access to my pussy, while perhaps
providing a little extra material to cover myself. I
intentionally dispensed with my panties to make things
a bit more accessible. I picked Mitzi up at her
apartment and drove to the mall. She was smiling and
talking as if we were going on some kind of a field
trip, while my legs felt like jelly as I walked through
the parking lot toward the mall entrance. Mitzi
followed behind so as not to make it appear that we
were together.
Once inside, I quickly found the bench that she
intended for me to use. It was mid-afternoon and the
mall was quite busy. I had to wait about 15 minutes for
some other shoppers to vacate the bench so I could take
my place. I was pleased when I sat down to note that
the benched faced away from most of the shoppers who
were passing by.
I sat there for maybe five minutes, occasionally
glancing up to find Mitzi, who was standing near the
entrance to and Old Navy store watching me intently.
Finally, I took a deep breath and began to slide my
left hand along my leg and underneath my skirt. As my
hand drifted farther upward, I tugged at my hem to keep
as much of myself covered as possible. Of course,
anyone watching me closely would be able to tell what I
was doing. But, thankfully, most people seemed to be
preoccupied with their own pursuits that afternoon.
As my hand reached that vee between my thighs, I could
already feel the heat radiating from my pussy. I was
incredibly turned on and the insides of my thighs were
already wet. The first touch of fingers to clit were
electric. I had never done anything so blatantly
whorish before, and my body was responding eagerly.
Not knowing how much time I had before someone noticed
me, I glanced up at Mitzi again and began to furiously
rub my clit. I was already close, simply from the
situation and my initial touches, and I knew it was
going to be a big orgasm. I locked my eyes on Mitzi's
as my fingers rubbed faster, and I saw her lick her
lips as she watched me closely. Just then, another
figure crossed into my line of sight. It was a former
student whom I remembered having in class a couple of
years before. When he first saw me, he smiled in
recognition, but as soon as he got a good look at me,
his face changed first to puzzlement, then to
astonishment. He stood dead in his tracks watching me
right along with Mitzi.
Well, that was more than enough to push me over the
edge. I clamped my thighs tight together as my cunt
throbbed and spasmed right there in the mall.
Obviously, I had no time to enjoy the afterglow, and as
soon as my legs were strong enough, I stood up and
headed quickly back to my car. Mitzi was only a minute
or so behind.
When she climbed into the passenger's seat, she was all
giggly. "God, that was hot, Mrs. Robertson!" I just
stared at her, wondering how the hell I had gotten
myself into this mess.
"Did you see Bobby Foster watching you? I thought he
was going to wet his pants!"
All I could do was put my head in my hands and groan.
In another email a few weeks later, Mitzi instructed me
to go to the local Christie's Toy Box, a store that
features all kinds of adult oriented merchandise. She
wanted me to shoplift a dildo of my choice. This was
where I tried to draw the line, knowing that getting
caught shoplifting, not to mention shoplifting a dildo,
would be devastating if I were caught.
But Mitzi again played her trump card and reminded me
that it wouldn't be any worse than if the wrong people
happened to see the video. I couldn't argue with her
there, so off I went to Christie's Toy Box to steal
something for the first time in my life.
I can't describe the mixture of fear and arousal that
nearly overcame me when I stepped into that store,
which was located in a small strip mall in a not
particularly good part of town. The young woman behind
the counter glanced up at me then quickly back down at
some book she was reading behind the counter. For what
seemed the longest time, I wandered around the store,
picking up one item after another, pretending to
examine it carefully, and replacing it. Mitzi was
waiting in the car for me, and I knew she was probably
getting impatient. But I couldn't take the chance of
rushing this little operation, and she could not come
inside because she was not yet 18.
I had spotted the dildo I wanted. It was black and
shaped in an exact replica of a man's penis. A man with
a BIG penis! It must have been 10 inches long and so
big I couldn't stretch my fingers all the way around
it. I decided I might as well go big if I was going to
go at all.
Finally, a young couple entered the store and began to
shop around like me. They were huddled together
giggling each time they picked up one toy or another to
examine more closely. In a few minutes, the young man
went up to the clerk and asked her a question. I saw
them talking back and forth for a minute before the
clerk stepped out from behind the counter and headed
for the back room.
I knew that was my chance and I grabbed the black
dildo, stuffed it into the large purse I'd brought just
for that purpose. Without looking back, I walked
briskly through the door with my prize. My heart was
about to come out of my chest from the fear and
excitement, and I threw myself into the car and started
the engine as quickly as possible.
"Let's see it," Mitzi said as I began to pull away, and
I reached into my bag and handed the toy to her. She
examined it closely through the clear plastic packaging
and said, "Pull around behind the store."
I looked at her in astonishment, but I could tell by
the look on her face she was serious. So I pulled into
the alley that ran behind the strip mall and parked in
a no parking area in front of a dumpster. It was the
only place to be had at that time of day.
When we were stopped, Mitzi tore into the packaging,
took out the dildo and began to examine it closely. She
ran her fingers several times up and down the length of
the shaft, as if to trace the outline of all the ridges
and folds that had been cast into the toy to make it
look (and I suppose feel) more realistic.
"Raise up your dress," she ordered, and I hesitantly
lifted my hem a little way, still trying to keep myself
covered a bit in case someone walked by the car. She
reached over and grabbed the waistband of my panties
and began to pull them down. Afraid she might rip them,
I lifted my hips to help her and worked them the rest
of the way down my legs and off.
Then Mitzi took my new toy and began to run it along
the length of my slit, pressing it inside a bit more
each time. The excitement of our little adventure had
me so wet that the toy went in easily with just a
little pressure on her part. I scooted my bottom toward
the edge of the seat and spread my legs as far as I
could, while my 13-year-old student began to fuck my
pussy with that long black cock.
She moved it in and out slowly at first, then gradually
picked up the pace. And it wasn't long before she was
fucking me as fast as her little hand could move the
big, black shaft. I reached down and started rubbing my
clit to help things along, and soon my tunnel was
gripping the shaft, clenching it, drawing it farther
inside as I came right there in my car. Sitting in an
alley. Next to a dumpster. What in the hell had
happened to me?
****
It was this memory that flashed into my mind as I sat
in my car in the driveway of 1343 Mansfield Drive and
fucked myself with a flashlight. And it was almost as
if Mitzi's hands were guiding the metal shaft in and
out of me, faster and faster at that moment. I closed
my eyes and saw her bright young face sitting in my
classroom. Her firm young thighs opening to me. Her
bare pussy exposed just for me to see.
And I came hard, shoving the flashlight deep inside my
cunt as my contractions gripped and massaged the fat
metal shaft. Tears of release streamed down my cheeks
and I had to put my hand over my mouth to cover the
sobs that just poured out.
Finally, when I had regained my senses, I realized that
the dashboard clock read 4:59, meaning it was now time
for me to make my way from the car to the front porch,
wearing nothing except a small top that barely covered
my breasts. I looked around quickly and saw that the
sidewalk was deserted in the vicinity of the house. So
I threw open the door and sprinted for the porch.
Panting from the dash to the door and the arousal that
was beginning to build again, I reached out quickly and
rang the doorbell. I heard the chime sound somewhere
inside the house, so I knew it was working. But no one
seemed to be answering. I danced from one foot to the
other as I waited impatiently there on the porch with
most of my body on display for anyone who might pass
by. I'd never felt such a combination of fear and
arousal as I experienced at that moment.
Finally, I heard footsteps inside the house, and in
just a moment Mitzi pulled the door open and smiled at
me. I nearly knocked her to the ground as I rushed past
into the entryway.
"Hello, Mrs. Robertson," she said brightly. "How was
your drive over here?"
"Well, it was...different, I guess." It was difficult
for me to describe all the emotions that being nearly
naked in a semi-public place like that had generated. I
decided not to try.
"Well, I hope you're ready for a little fun this
afternoon."
"Do I have a choice?" I asked caustically.
"Now, that's not the kind of attitude you need to have
today," she scolded. "I promise you'll have a good time
if you'll just loosen up a little."
She took my hand and led me into the living room. I had
just stepped through the door when I froze in my
tracks. Sitting there on the sofa was Brian Frazier!
Brian Frazier, the head physical education teacher at
Kennedy Middle School. Brian Frazier, who thought he
was god's gift to all women. Brian Frazier, who was
staring admiringly at my body with a huge smile on his
face!
"All right, Mitzi, what the hell is this all about?" My
voice was quiet, but it was clear from the intensity
that I was very angry. "What's he doing here?"
Brian Frazier had taught at Kennedy for around five
years. He and I had never been close, never even been
friends. I just didn't much care for him. He was a big
macho guy, somewhere around 6-3 and probably weighed
over 200 pounds. Brian had most assuredly been an
athlete in his day, and still had that athletic build,
even though he was a bit softer around the middle. Of
course, that happens to almost all men as they movie\
into their 40's.
Brian was ruggedly handsome, with black hair that was
just beginning to go a little gray around the temples,
and dark brown eyes with little laugh lines. His skin
was tanned year round, indicating that he must spend a
lot of time outdoors every weekend or make frequent
trips to the tanning salon. I was certain it was the
former.
He was actually very easy on the eyes, but his attitude
was something else again. Brian and one or two of the
other male teachers always seemed to be joking around
in the teachers' lounge about this female teacher or
that one, making suggestive comments and sometimes
leaving my younger and more delicate colleagues upset.
Of course, there were other teachers who liked his
macho image and openly flirted with him. There were
rumors of affairs, but I tried to keep my nose out of
that kind of gossip.
He had flirted with me on and off since joining the
faculty, but I kept my distance. I'd even have to say I
gave him the cold shoulder. After a few attempts to
talk me into meeting for "coffee" after school, Brian
apparently gave up on me and moved on to more promising
hunting grounds.
"Well, hello there!" Brian beamed when he saw me walk
through the door. "You're looking
rather...casual...today." He flashed that big smile of
his as he looked me slowly up and down, starting at the
tips of my toes and making his way slowly upward. He
didn't even try to disguise the fact that his eyes
locked onto my naked pussy and lingered. It was as if
he was trying to memorize every detail.
"What the hell is this?" I hissed at Mitzi, trying to
keep Brian from hearing.
"Oh, Mr. Frazier and I had a lot of fun playing this
year," Mitzi explained casually, "and I thought you
might enjoy having some fun, too." So the rumors about
Mitzi having sex with a teacher were true! I might have
known it would be Brian Frazier.
"Mitzi told me that you might like...," Brian began.
"You shut up," I shot back. "You should know better
than this! To get yourself involved in something like
this."
"If you'll pardon my stating the obvious, I'm not the
one standing here with nothing on but a little top that
barely covers her breasts," he said sarcastically.
"Which, by the way, are quite stunning."
I just glared at him, tried to cover my mound with my
two hands and turned back to Mitzi. "This is just too
much," I told her. "I don't know what you think is
going to happen today, but whatever it is, you are
wrong! I don't care about that video any more. You
can't make me do this!"
But Mitzi just smiled that self-satisfied little smile
of hers and walked over to where Brian stood smirking.
She moved close beside him and put her arm around his
waist. The two of them looked so incongruous together—
an older man well over six feet tall and a young teen
barely over five feet.
"Today the rules are different," Mitzi told me as she
reached out and started to run her hand lightly over
the front of Brian's white tennis shorts. "I'm not
going to force you to do anything you don't want to
do." And with that, she reached for his zipper and
pulled it slowly down.
I started to protest, but just then I saw the bulge. It
was growing before my eyes, Brian's cock, that is. And
it looked to be a big one from the way it was tenting
his shorts. Mitzi just kept running her hand over the
outline of it, and I simply could not take my eyes off
what she was doing.
I began to feel that tingling deep in my belly again,
and I knew that Mitzi understood me better than I
understood myself. She knew she wouldn't have to force
me to do anything that day. She would ALLOW me to do
it.
Brian was just standing there with this far away look
in his eyes, obviously enjoying the attention his
straining cock was getting from Mitzi's small fingers.
My legs were beginning to quiver in the excitement of
the moment and I wanted to locate a place to sit down.
But my feet felt rooted to the spot.
I watched, transfixed, as Mitzi unbuttoned the
waistband of Brian's shorts and let them fall down
around his ankles. That left him there in his boxers,
which were barely able to contain his rapidly swelling
cock. "See anything you like?" she smiled as she
continued to outline it with her fingers. Although I
couldn't say a word, she obviously knew the answer was
yes.
Then, just as if she had done it a thousand times,
Mitzi deftly hooked her fingers in the waistband of
Brian's boxers and began pulling them down. It took a
little doing to slip them over his stiff tent pole, but
soon enough they, too, were around his ankles and I was
staring at the biggest cock I'd ever seen in person.
It was probably nine or ten inches long, with a big
purple head that already had a little precum glistening
on it. Brian was obviously enjoying all the attention
he was receiving from Mitzi...and me. It was thick,
too, and looked even thicker when Mitzi took it in her
little hand and began to stroke it slowly up and down.
She seemed quite comfortable with the "equipment" and I
was certain that she and Brian had done this before.
I almost laughed to myself at my guilt about
"corrupting" poor, innocent little Mitzi. As it turned
out, she was the one who was actually corrupting me.
She looked straight at me as she continued to stroke
Brian's erection very slowly. And I'm sure she could
see in my eyes that I was wishing it was my hand there
instead of hers.
She motioned for me to come over, and I felt as if I
were sleepwalking the few steps to where she had
dropped down to her knees in front of Brian's massive
tool. I knelt down beside her, close enough that I
could feel the heat radiating from his cock. "Go ahead,
touch it," she encouraged. "You know you want to."
Nearly panting in anticipation, I tentatively reached
out to touch a cock that didn't belong to my husband
for the first time in over 15 years. The thing was rock
hard and drooling even more by now, as I added my hand
near the base of the shaft. Mitzi kept her grip near
the head, and there was till room to add another fist
if we'd wanted to.
But two was just right—Mitzi's little hand and my
bigger one, both gripping Brian's thick shaft and
slowly pumping it. Up and down we went, our movements
perfectly in sync. Our rhythm building, taking hold of
us. My breaths seemed to be coming in time with the
cadence of our strokes. Instinctively, I reached out
with my free hand and cupped Brian's heavy sack in my
palm, squeezing and caressing his balls gently to his
obvious pleasure.
I closed my eyes to drink in all the sensations. I
loved the feel of the smooth skin. I traced every ridge
with my fingertips and paid special attention to the
head, even exploring the little hole. It was warm to
the touch, and I could feel it pulse a little each time
I lifted and fondled his balls. And the smell of it. It
smelled like...man. That musky, almost pungent scent
that had been programmed through eons of evolution to
prepare the female of the species for breeding. And I
was more than prepared as I felt my juices literally
dripping from me.
I had been so lost in my attention to Brian's wonderful
cock that I didn't even realize that Mitzi had moved
away from us. When I opened my eyes again, I saw her
sitting on the sofa just a few feet away, watching,
smiling, and running her hands lightly over her
breasts. She had slipped off the little tank top she
had been wearing, and as I watched, she pulled off her
shorts and sat there naked gazing back at me with that
mocking little smile.
She had known all along that I would surrender to
her...to Brian, and she was going to enjoy the show. I
felt just a slight surge of anger at the way she had
played me, but I was so into the other feelings that
were pulsing through me right then, I quickly forgot it
and went back to the task at hand.
As Mitzi watched and began to caress her little pussy
with one hand and fondle her breasts with the other, I
tentatively ran my tongue from the base of Brian's
thick shaft, all the way to the tip in one sensuous
motion. When I reached the head, I swirled my tongue
around the swollen purple knob a few times until I felt
the shaft grow a little in my hand, indicating that
Brian approved of my technique.
I pressed the tip of my tongue firmly into his hole and
I could see his legs tense as he let out a low moan.
"That's it, baby, suck it. Make daddy feel real
gooooooood."
If I hadn't been so turned on, I'd have probably burst
out laughing. He sounded so macho, so into himself,
so...Brian Frazier. But at the moment, he had what I
wanted, what I needed. And I was going to have it, even
if he was an arrogant ass.
I took the shaft as fully inside my mouth as I could.
And though my deep throating skills had never been very
well-developed, Brian seemed still to approve, as he
responded with low growls from deep in his throat. I
was tasting his precum by this point and it made me
wonder whether I could possibly contain it all when I
finally brought him to climax.
But I quickly found out that Brian was not going to be
content with a blow job, even as much as he seemed to
be enjoying it. He reached down and lifted me by the
shoulders and stood me up in front of him. He thrust
his tongue roughly in my mouth and probed so deep that
I was almost to the point of gagging. I just sort of
let him do it without responding. Sucking the cock of
someone so personally disgusting was one thing. Kissing
him back was quite another.
"You're a good little cocksucker, Susan," Brian said
mockingly. "But now I'm gonna see how you are at the
real thing." And with those words he pushed me over to
where Mitzi was still playing with herself and bent me
unceremoniously over the arm of the couch.
"Wait a minute, Brian," I pleaded with him. "I don't
want..."
"This isn't about what you want," he shot back. And
with that he kicked my legs apart and pressed the head
of that big cock at the entrance to my defenseless
pussy.
Suddenly, all these jumbled thoughts started flashing
through my head. "This guy's going to fuck me right
here. He doesn't care whether I agree or not. Oh god,
what about Dave? Jesus, what if he has some disease.
What if he gets me pregnant?!"
"Goddammit, Brian," I screamed at him, "If you're going
to fuck me, at least use a rubber!"
"Are you kidding, baby? I want to feel every bit of
that sweet pussy of yours." And with that, he shoved
his cock in me and buried it to the hilt with one
powerful motion. He proceeded to thrust in and out
roughly, so much so that my feet were lifted off the
floor with each inward stroke. The arm of the sofa was
pressing so hard into my stomach that the power of each
thrust nearly knocked the breath from me. Each stroke
elicited a little grunting sound.
I closed my eyes tight as Brian continued his
onslaught. But, despite my revulsion at the thought of
him taking me bareback, I couldn't ignore the feelings
this his huge cock was stirring up. His heavy balls
were slapping against my clit with each thrust, and
each time he slid nearly out again, his big head
dragged over my spot deliciously. The more he fucked
me, the more my body began to take over from my
intellect.
I kept trying to keep myself under control—I didn't
want to give him the satisfaction of making me cum. But
I was losing the battle. I felt it begin with this
intense electric jolt that coursed through my swollen
clit. From there, the waves began to shoot out in all
directions, to the tips of my toes, to my fingertips,
and back again to center in the pulsing that was
beginning in my cunt.
"Fuck me you sonofabitch!" I screamed at him. "Let's
see what you've got!"
My cries just spurred him on. He pounded me harder and
harder. And I hated him at that moment for what he was
doing to me, but I never wanted him to stop!
"Do it you motherfucker," I hissed. I couldn't believe
the words that were just tumbling out of me. It was
like 15 years of repression, guilt and desire exploding
all over both of us.
My cunt contracted hard as the waves of climax swept
over me, and my throbbing was too much for Brian, too,
as I felt that huge cock of his swell just a little bit
more before filling me with his hot seed. The thing
pulsed over and over again as he sprayed my insides
with his cum.
And just like that, it was over. I felt the weight of
Brian's body on top of me as his legs went weak from
his orgasm. And mine had left me with absolutely no
strength to push him away. So I lay there, bent over
the arm of the couch, unable to move.
Slowly, I opened my eyes and saw Mitzi looking at me.
She had obviously cum along with us because she had
this dreamy look in her eyes and her face and chest
were flushed with the glow of her orgasm. Seeing her
that way reminded me of that first day I took her and
made me think about this sick little ride we had been
on together.
All of a sudden, I felt disgusted with myself, with
her, with this whole situation. I summoned up enough
strength to throw an elbow into Brian's ribs and force
him off my back. As I stood, I could feel the mixture
of our juices dripping out of me as it pooled on the
floor between my bare feet.
"All right, Mitzi, this is the end of it," I announced.
"I'm through with these games. You can take your
fucking video and shove it up his ass for all I care,"
I yelled, pressing my index finger into Brian's hairy
chest.
"It's okay, Mrs. Robertson," she said innocently.
"We've had enough fun for now. I think I'm going to
play with Mr. Frazier for the rest of the summer."
And as Brian turned to Mitzi with a puzzled expression,
I pushed my way through the front door and hopped in my
car, not even caring whether someone might notice my
freshly-fucked state.
But as I drove away, Mitzi's last words kept running
through my mind. "I'll stop by and see you after class
when school starts next month."
END
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 47