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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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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
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type of literature, or you are under age,
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Face Time
by Ed Rider (ed_rider7@hotmail.com)
***
Mrs. Brown was holding a wooden paddle! It looked just
like one for playing ping-pong, but it was a little
larger and didn't have any rubber sides on it. Mrs.
Brown raised it up and then she smacked Bobby on the ass
with it! (Fm, underage, d/s, voy, spank, huml)
***
It was late by the time I was finished with cheerleading
practice and I was eager to get home, away from school
for the day at last. Unfortunately, as I was packing up
my book bag, I noticed that I was missing one of my
spiral notebooks, one that had some important notes from
English class. I thought for a while as to where it
could be. I went back to my locker, but it wasn't there
either. I stood in the deserted hallway, and I finally
decided that I must have left it in the classroom.
Miss Castle was my English teacher. She was a fairly
young woman with blonde hair and a serious demeanor. Her
class was in the east wing of the school, so I had to
walk all the way across the building to get there. I
wasn't sure how I was going to get into the classroom,
but I guess I figured I could find a janitor to let me
in briefly.
Unfortunately not even the janitors were around at this
time, and I only went to Ms. Castle's door on the vague
hope that it would be unlocked for some reason. I don't
know what it was, but something made me approach her
room very cautiously.
When I peered in through the window on the door, I was
in for quite a shock! I could see Ms. Castle seated at
her desk, at the front of the room. She wasn't doing
anything, just leaning back in her chair, pulled back a
bit from her desk.
I almost knocked on the door, but all of a sudden I
stopped and froze. Ms. Castle wasn't alone in the room!
There, sitting on the floor in front of her, there was
someone else. It was a boy, some student I didn't know.
And his face was busily occupied between Ms. Castle's
legs!
I let out my breath in a gasp and quietly pulled away
from the window. Had they seen me? No, of course not,
they were both quite occupied with each other. I leaned
back over and glanced into the room as unobtrusively as
I could. I hadn't miss-seen a thing.
Miss Castle's jeans were lying on the floor beside her,
and this boy was... was giving her oral sex! From the
looks of it, she was enjoying it quite a bit. I stood in
rapt attention for a moment as I watched the two of
them. Then, as sudden as a rabbit, guilt leapt into me
and I turned from the door and hastily made a retreat.
Well, I never did get that notebook back in time for the
test. (turns out I had left it somewhere else entirely)
However, Ms. Castle had given me something much more
vexing than grammar to think about. I know I should have
just put it out of my head, but for some reason my
thoughts kept returning in that direction.
I watched Ms. Castle as she returned papers in class.
She was young, I supposed, why shouldn't she have a
lover? But, a student? Something inside me knew that I
should report this to... to someone, but on the other
hand, what would I say?
I decided that it was none of my business. But in class,
when we were supposed to be writing, my eyes darted up
to the front of the room, where Ms. Castle sat at her
desk. She could have someone under her desk right now, I
thought. Someone could be sitting under her desk and...
someone could down there doing that stuff to her right
now!
The thought sent shivers down my spine. It was so
naughty, to think those kinds of things about a teacher.
I shouldn't have looked in her window that night, I
knew. But how was I to help that? It was clearly an
accident. I made myself focus on my writing, and not
think any more about Ms. Castle's extra-curricular
activities.
For the short-term, I was successful. A few days passed
and I was able to go to English class and not think
about my teacher in... in that position. I had plenty to
do throughout each day, and gradually the image of what
I had seen was drained from my mind.
Unfortunately, not all thoughts are so easy to sweep
away. In the minutes that I lay in my bed each night,
waiting for sleep to come to me, my mind persisted in
these avenues of inquiry. It seemed that this time was
conducive to introspection, as if the sleeping mind and
the awakened mind were pausing for conversation just
before they switched places.
You know you want it. That statement circled around my
head one night. But what? What did I want? I didn't have
to wait long before the answer quite unwillingly
occurred to me. You want someone to do that to you. You
want someone to get between your legs like that boy in
Ms. Castle's room. You want someone to lick your pussy
and make it feel good all over.
I almost blushed, lying there in the darkness. My
blankets felt hot and constricting. I rarely masturbate,
but I found that my hand was already down below my
waist, rubbing my sensitive pussy lips through my
panties. I drifted off to sleep that night thinking of
boys and their tongues and the delicious things they
might do with them.
*
You might think that for a cheerleader and a popular
girl, it would be an easy matter to find someone who
would be up to performing oral sex on me. However, I did
not have the reputation of a slut, and neither did I
wish to acquire it. Since I had no boyfriend, or even
close male acquaintances, my prospects seemed some days
to be non-existent.
Still, this did not deter my mind from plotting, from
lingering on these thoughts from day to day. Unbeknownst
to my active thoughts, I was formulating a plan. This
plan went on from day to day, and while I knew I was
enacting each portion of it, for some reason the larger
picture was generally shut away from my reason.
One day, however, there was no denying what my plan was.
I held my lunch bag in hand and looked around the
crowded cafeteria. Robert was sitting alone at a small
table, as he usually did. I sauntered towards him.
Robert was the name of the boy I had seen with Miss
Castle. I had found this out, along with much other
information about him. He was a junior, one year younger
than me, and he was in Ms. Castle's third period class.
He was not one of the popular boys at the school,
although he lacked any of the qualities that would make
him some sort of outcast or cause any popular person to
look down on him. Altogether he was a quiet boy who
liked art classes.
When I sat down at the table with him without so much of
a word, he was surprised. Surely anyone else would have
been surprised to see one of the cheerleaders sit down
at lunch with a nobody. I ignored him for a moment, as
if I had sat down across from him by accident, and I got
out my lunch and put it on the table.
I smiled at him. "Hi," I said, letting my eyes meet his
with a mischievous sparkle.
Robert looked around as if there had to be someone else
I was talking to. "Uh, hello," he replied.
What I wanted was just to lean over the table and
whisper in his ear. I wanted to come right out say to
him, Robert, get down on your knees under this table and
start licking. As you might imagine, the words caught in
my throat long before they ever came out of my mouth.
"My name's Melanie," I said instead.
He told me his name, and I pretended that I was hearing
it for the first time. After that we only said a few
more words to each other. I was a little nervous, but
not nearly as uncomfortable as he seemed to be. For the
most part I ate my lunch in silence, and when I was
done, I wiped my lips with a napkin, smiled, and told
him that maybe I would see him tomorrow or something. As
I left, he just sat there with what must have been a
confused smile.
The next day I did the same thing, and we spoke a little
more. He asked me why I was sitting with him, and I got
a little flustered and muttered something about a
falling out among cheerleaders, which he seemed to
accept at face value.
On the third day I had the courage to come right out and
tell him. "I know about you and Miss Castle," I said,
right out of the blue.
He hurriedly swallowed a bite of his sandwich. "What?"
he asked with eyes wide.
"I know." I stated it matter-of-factly. "Not going to
fail that class, are you?"
He actually blushed. For some reason, I felt wonderful
at that moment. Probably because I knew my plan was
going to succeed.
"Uh, no," he managed to push out.
I just kept smiling at him and went on eating my lunch.
He didn't have much more to say to me, but that was
okay. It was easy to get him to agree to meet more after
school, so that we could "discuss" these matters in a
more private setting.
When he saw me again that afternoon he couldn't help but
grin. We went back to my house and from there up to my
room. I didn't know how to proceed from there so we just
sat down on my bed, and eventually he leaned over and
started kissing me. I kissed him back, and we rolled
back onto the bed and made out for a while.
He was clumsy but eager, and I enjoyed holding him. But,
we were there for a pretty specific reason. I put my
hands on his shoulders and pushed him down off me. He
knew what I wanted, and we quickly got my pants off. His
tongue was heavenly, even better than I could have
imagined. My body writhed in pleasure as he licked me
all over my pretty pussy.
I came twice. I've never done that before, not in one
day, definitely not in the short hour he spent with me.
When I was done I pushed his head away from me and
squeezed my legs together, just basking in the pleasure.
Gradually I came back to the present and sat up. Robert
was just sitting on the bed, still fully clothed,
looking at me with a calm expression on his face. I
hugged him rather awkwardly and later he left. And that
was how the unlikely Robert became my boyfriend.
*
It went on like that, the two of us rarely talking in
school, but getting together in the evenings fairly
often. I gave him a hand job one night, because I had
never done that before and was curious. Some other
nights he would masturbate and I would help him, kissing
his neck and snuggling up against his body. But always,
every night I could get him alone, he went down on me,
and licked me until I was satisfied.
This went on for a couple of weeks, and I was beginning
to get used to it. One time I asked him if he was still
doing 'favors' for Ms. Castle, and he said that he was,
but quite infrequently these days, and I assured him
that once in a while was okay with me. And then one day
I got a bit of a surprise.
Mrs. Brown, my history teacher, had told me to stay
after class one day. Hers was my last class of the day,
so I remained at my desk as the other kids filed out. I
was a bit nervous. If Ms. Castle was a serious person,
then Mrs. Brown was downright strict. While the rowdy
boys may have pulled pranks in other teachers' classes
they held themselves a bit more in check for Mrs. Brown.
Finally she and I were alone in the classroom. Mrs.
Brown got up and closed the door, then walked back over
to me, taking a seat in the desk next to me. This was
strange, I had no idea what she wanted to talk to me
about. Maybe she was concerned about my grade in the
class which I thought was sure to be a C.
Mrs. Brown looked me up and down. Finally she spoke. "I
hear you have a relationship with Bobby," she stated.
Omigod! What did she know about that? I blushed
furiously. But it didn't have anything to do with her,
did it? I felt like her eyes were boring into me. At
length she gave me what might have been a reassuring
smile.
"Oh, don't look so guilty, dearie," she said. "It's
perfectly all right for a girl like you to go out with a
boy. I just thought perhaps you should know some
things."
I was aghast. I sat fixed in my seat, maybe from shame,
maybe from fear, probably because I just didn't know
what else to do. Mrs. Brown went on talking to me as if
she were giving a lecture on early colonialism. She told
me that I had been doing a good job, but that I was in
need of a little training, things that I couldn't just
pick up on my own. I just nodded and murmured assent.
Gradually as she talked I relaxed just a bit.
There was a knock on the door. Again Mrs. Brown went to
the door, opened and closed it. I was a bit embarrassed
to see the entrant, but, on the bright side, at least
this wasn't about my grade in history.
It was Robert. He came into the room with his eyes on
the floor, looking for all the world like a condemned
prisoner. When I saw him my heart lifted, as the sight
of a lover is always welcome, even in strange
circumstances.
Things got stranger. Mrs. Brown locked the door, and
pulled down a little shade over the window. (I guess Ms.
Castle didn't have one of those :)) Then she turned out
the lights and returned to her desk and sat down. Robert
came over and sat down next to me. He said hi to me very
quietly and I mumbled hello back.
It was dim in the room, but not dark. Mrs. Brown sat at
her desk as if she led a class of two on every day. I
couldn't hear anyone in the hall outside; it occurred to
me the Mrs. Brown had the farthest classroom from the
main building. She was also in the east wing, at the end
of a hall.
"So Bobby, you've managed to find yourself a little
girlfriend." Mrs. Brown's tone was sharp, but at the
same time she spoke with a great familiarity. 'Bobby'
just stared at his desk and said nothing. "Tell me
Bobby, what have the two of you been doing?"
And then, to my great mortification, Bobby began to
describe our after-school encounters. I tried to sink
into my desk, but it was no use. It must have seemed a
strange scene. There we were, two students sitting in
the front row, receiving a lesson from our teacher,
except the light were out and Bobby was just saying how
much he loved licking my... licking my cunt!
He called it a cunt too, right there in front of Mrs.
Brown, and she just nodded and bade him continue. I
blushed and looked anywhere but at Bobby or Mrs. Brown,
and he went on describing all the different things the
two of us had done.
Finally he came to some conclusion, and Mrs. Brown
nodded. "My," she said, "you two certainly have been
busy. But Bobby, you seem to have left something out.
All these times when Melanie helped you get off, did you
ask for her permission to cum?"
By now I had reached my threshold level of
embarrassment. Nothing that came after had any power to
further redden my cheeks. Bobby just looked downcast.
"No Ma'am," he told her. "No I didn't."
"Hm. Well," said Mrs. Brown. "I suppose there are
extenuating circumstances. *But*, that does not mean you
won't be punished. Come here, boy."
And then, to my utter astonishment, Bobby went over to
Mrs. Brown's desk and started taking off his pants. Mrs.
Brown just watched him do that with no surprise, and
then she opened up a desk drawer and pulled something
out of it. I didn't realize what it was at first, but
then Bobby, who was standing there in his underwear,
leaned over her desk so that his chest was draped across
it and his butt was sticking up in the air.
Mrs. Brown was holding a wooden paddle! It looked just
like one for playing ping-pong, but it was a little
larger and didn't have any rubber sides on it. Mrs.
Brown raised it up and then she smacked Bobby on the ass
with it!
Smack!! I nearly jumped out of my chair! Bobby's weight
shifted, but he barely moved at all. Then Mrs. Brown hit
him again -- and again! She was spanking him!
I leaned forward in my chair nervously, but I couldn't
take my eyes off the sight of Bobby in his underwear.
Mrs. Brown paddled him again, hard, and I think he
nearly cried out. My heart started beating hard and fast
in my chest. Why was she spanking him? Omigod, is she
going to spank me next?!
Mrs. Brown rested for a second, rubbing Bobby's butt
with the paddle.
"How many swats is that, Bobby?" she asked him.
"Four, Ma'am," he replied.
"Very good, Bobby."
Oh my. For some reason, watching Bobby getting spanked
was really bringing heat up to my face. And then, as
Mrs. Brown smacked both sides of his ass in quick
succession, then repeated the action: smack! smack! I
found the heat was spreading to other parts of my body
as well. My pussy was getting wet! I squeezed my thighs
together and was rewarded with great pleasure.
Mrs. Brown lectured Bobby as she continued to let those
stinging swats fly. "You won't cum again without a
woman's permission, will you Bobby?" Smack!!
"N-n-no Ma'am." It seemed Bobby's voice was near
breaking. My own resolve was trembling as well. Could I
reach down and rub myself with a hand? Was I allowed to?
Suppose Mrs. Brown saw me... would she spank me as well?
Smack! Smack! Smack! The paddle rose and fell with
regularity on Bob's scantily covered behind. For a few
surreal moments I could hear nothing but the sound of
the paddle and my own heavy breathing. I squirmed in my
seat and contracted my muscles, bringing delicious
tension to my excited pussy.
Just a few more hard swats and Bobby's ordeal was
mercifully ended. Mrs. Brown put the paddle back in her
desk and allowed a tearful Bobby to put his pants back
on, but not before he apologized profusely and promised
never again to cum without permission.
He came back over to me but did not retake his seat. I
was mute, looking furtively from Mrs. Brown to Bobby and
back to Mrs. Brown again. Mrs. Brown gave me a flip look
of satisfaction. "That, my dear girl," she told me
matter-of-factly, "is how to punish a wayward young
lad." For some reason Bobby reached out his hand to me
and I took it, squeezing gently.
"Are there any questions?" inquired Mrs. Brown. Two
questions instantly came to my mind. The first was: am I
going to get spanked? And the second, matching the first
in intensity, was: when am I going to get Bobby to lick
me?
Of course I didn't come right out and say those. But
Mrs. Brown kept looking at me intently. "Come now
dearie," she persisted, "Surely you must have a question
or two?"
After a long pause, breath finally fought its way to my
mouth, to voice my unasked queries. They came tumbling
out of me, with no reason. "Is Bobby... Can I... we...
are we allowed?" I tried again, under Mrs. Brown's
approving stare. "Is Bobby and me... Is Bobby still
allowed to... to go down on me?"
Mrs. Brown laughed. "Why of course!" she exclaimed to my
surprise. "Bobby can lick your cunt whenever you desire
him to. Although..." she grinned, "perhaps you should
exercise more discretion than he and Sara." (Sara is Ms.
Castle's name!)
"Well then, then..." I can't believe I was asking this
of one of my teachers. The previous events had conspired
to loosen my tongue on these matters. "Can he do it
now?" I flushed. I hadn't meant to be so direct, to ask
outright if Bobby could pleasure me here in the
classroom. It was the straining sensation, the one that
went all through my body, but started from between my
legs, that made me be so bold.
Mrs. Brown laughed. She didn't answer, instead looking
at her watch, and then gathering up her purse and
jacket. She looked at Bobby. "What a darling girl she
is," she said to him, as she gestured that the three of
us should be leaving.
I stood up and went with Bobby and her to the door.
"First we must go over to Sara's house," Mrs. Brown told
me. "She's been expecting us. And then, my dear Melanie,
Bobby will lick all of our cunts."
END
* The author humbly invites you to send your comments,
questions, and requests to be emailed to
Ed_Rider7@hotmail.com
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story
is meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything
in real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in
"real life" can look forward to many unproductive
years getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in
their local prison system.
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