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Making the Grade Ch. 01

By: komrad1156



"Twenty-two months is a long course of treatment, Cal. I'm guessing you're more than ready to get these things off."

"I am," I told Dr. Sears truthfully.

"I have to tell you this is the most rewarding part of my job. All that time in college and medical school plus orthodontics training is worth it every time I remove a set of braces. That's especially true with someone like you, Cal, who had such a severe challenge. Do you remember the name for it?"

"A class-three malocclusion," I replied. I may have been held back a year and turned 18 as a junior in high school a few months ago, I might never have even been on a date let alone kissed a girl, and I might have had just about the worst grill ever, but I was pretty good in school and remembering something like this was easy for me.

"Very good!" Dr. Sears said as he continued removing the pieces of metal from my mouth. "You had multiple issues going on like overcrowding and a lot of protrusion. The key word there is 'had' as in not any more.

I laughed and said, "Protrusion. Right! That's the politically correct term for bucked teeth, isn't it?" Dr. Sears just chuckled. "I have to say no one's called me 'Bucky' for at least six months now so that's a good thing, right?" That name had stuck since the elementary school and it, more than anything else, had shaped my self-image in the intervening years, and that image wasn't good. In fact, it was something I didn't like to think about. If not for the teeth, I'd been at least an average looking kid. Sure, I was soft and had a round face, but I didn't have Dumbo ears or a third eye and I wasn't morbidly obese or anything. But those 10-15 pounds of extra weight and that "bucked-tooth" grin had taken their toll on how I felt about myself.

"Looks like you've done a little self-improvement beyond your smile, Cal. Have you lost weight?" Dr. Sears asked as he pulled another wire loose.

It was typically the people who didn't see me regularly who noticed. Those who did couldn't really tell that my body was undergoing a change of its own while the braces were doing their thing upstairs. "I've been lifting weights for the last six months or so, Dr. Sears. My dad talked me into taking the class and I guess it's working okay."

My favorite hygienist, Marie, chimed in. "I thought that was the case," she said playfully. "I can really see it in your face most of all but it's also obvious from your chest and arms that you've been doing something in the gym." 

I cut my eyes toward her as Dr. Sears was removing the last of the anchors and I noticed the way Marie was smiling at me. In the past, she'd been friendly but I chalked that up to professionalism and her just doing her job. This smile said something new and different. In fact, it was so new I wasn't sure whether to thank her or feel offended. I mean, no one ever complimented me on anything except my grades or video game skills. All I'd ever experienced was a steady stream of jokes, sarcasm, and taunting for as long as I could remember so I had nothing with which I could compare her comment. Even so, telling her "thanks" intuitively seemed like the right thing to do and I told her just that.

"I think you're going to have to start carrying around the proverbial stick from now on, Cal." Marie smiled that smile again even as Dr. Sears chimed in.

"Okay. That's it. Let's polish these up and see if we've got a spare stick to lend you!"

I hated being naïve but I knew I had to ask. "Stick? Am I missing something?"

Both of them laughed. "You know," Dr. Sears explained, "the stick to beat back all the girls that are gonna be chasing you. I gotta admit, we did a pretty bang up job here, my friend."

Marie handed me a mirror and I was so shocked by the image looking back at me that I found myself at a loss for words. I finally mumbled, "Holy cow. Is that really me?"

They both chuckled again as Dr. Sears slapped me on the arm and said, "Yes, indeed. That's you. The guy with the perfect smile!"

"And the big pecs!" Marie said in a feigned whisper as she put the mirror back down on the counter.

I nearly ran off the road on the way home from smiling and looking in the damn mirror so many times. I just couldn't believe that was me. My mom had wanted to take me but I insisted she let me do this alone. Not surprisingly, she was standing on the porch waiting for me when I got home. What was surprising was that my Aunt Holly, my mom's younger sister, was standing there with her. She was what my mom referred to as "well connected" and her husband "well heeled." She was married to a wealthy man and it seemed as if she knew everyone no matter where we went. And she was giving to a fault. I have to add she was also very attractive for a woman of 40. I felt my heartbeat quicken as soon as I saw her running toward the car.

Aunt Holly arrived first and grabbed me just as I opened the car door. "OH MY GOD! He's absolutely gorgeous, Wendy! Come look!" 

"Let me see your smile!" my mom hollered as she pushed her way in between me and her sister. I obliged. "Oh my heavenly days! She's right! You ARE gorgeous! I am so proud of you, honey!" I wanted to say she and dad did all the work and paid all the money while the only thing I did was agree to get the braces. Still, it was nice to hear another compliment even it was from my mother—and my hot aunt.

Both of them took an arm as we walked up the steps. I can't remember exactly what they were saying but it was all about me and my new look. I remember "new look" because that's when Aunt Holly said, "Okay. Speaking of 'new look' put your stuff down and let's go!"

"Go? Go where?" I asked as she and my mom hurried me back out the door. Two hours at the mall few by and suddenly I was sporting a new wardrobe of jeans, shirts, and a leather jacket. Nothing earth shattering but the kind of things the cool kids wore but we couldn't afford. Besides, why would I bother wearing something trendy when the only thing anyone ever saw in me was my teeth? The biggest surprise was a stop at a hair salon—not a barber shop but a place that actually had the word 'salon' in it—where the owner personally met us as soon as we walked inside. 

"Holly! This must be your nephew. Jesus, Joseph, and Mary! You weren't kidding. He really IS handsome! I thought you were exaggerating because he's family. Hah! When Simone finishes with him, there's gonna be a hot time in the old town tonight!" 

Sheesh. Another outdated saying. This time, I didn't bother asking. I'd heard my grandpa say that a time or two so I knew what it meant but I had no idea why she said it until Simone finished with the cutting, the blow drying, and the combing. Finally, she turned me around in the chair. "Voile, Monsieur Cal. You look just like that movie star on..."

"YES!" squealed my Aunt Holly. "That is exactly the look I had in mind. Honey, we better stop and buy you a stick because..."

"Because I'm gonna need it to fend off all the girls," I said finishing her sentence. As I looked at the way my thick, black hair fell over my forehead in a shock, I smiled. Then out of nowhere, I burst out laughing.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? You don't like it?" Mom asked with genuine worry in her voice.

"No. No, it's not that at all. It's just that this is so much change so fast, I can't believe what I'm seeing. This makes no sense. This morning I had a tin grin, my normal clothes, and a mop of unruly hair on my head. Now I have all...this." 

The ladies both laughed and made some more small talk on the way out. Aunt Holly continued to prattle on about me and "all the hearts I was going to break" until we got home and I managed to escape to the solace of my bedroom and my X-Box. I spent the rest of my weekend playing video games the way I always did. I tried not to go downstairs because every time I did, I was met with a flurry of compliments and comments about "the poor girls at school who wouldn't know what hit 'em" or words to that effect. A part of me wanted to believe that might be true but the rest of me was a little bit afraid. After all those years of put downs and being the butt of so many bad jokes, I couldn't even imagine any of that even being possible, let alone reality. But on Monday, I began to think they might just be right.

Registration for seniors started at 10am. I'd already had breakfast, been to the gym and finished a chest and triceps workout, showered, and changed clothes. Growing up near Seattle meant it was chilly nine months out the year and early September was always iffy. Once every few years we got an Indian summer and the best weather of the year extended through August for a couple more weeks into September. This was one of those years. I threw on a new blue T-shirt and a pair of the new jeans and headed for the high school.

I instinctively parked my car away from anyone else's because I knew there'd be someone ready to do something to it or to me. I was only halfway across the parking lot when I thought it was beginning again. As soon as I heard my name, I put my head down and headed straight for the gym doors. Then I realized it was a girl's voice. That never happened unless they were joining in with the guys to give me shit about my teeth or my clothes or God only knew what. 

"Hi, Calvin! How was your summer?" I hadn't been called Calvin since junior high but the voice sounded vaguely familiar. I looked over near the covered walkway and saw Heather Mansfield, who was without a doubt, the most attractive girl in school. I couldn't process the playful tone in her voice with her saying that to me so I didn't initially answer. As I got closer she said, "Calvin. Are you really ignoring me? I don't like being ignored, you know. Especially by cute guys." I felt my face "flame on" as she fell in step alongside me. I'd never spoken to a cute girl let alone have one talk to me unless, of course, it was to say something about me needing to scratch the back of her throat with my teeth. 

Heather wouldn't let up. "I heard about your 'transformation' but I didn't like believe it because Amanda was the one who told me and she's usually like all completely FULL of bullshit, right? But my God, she was right! You're hot! You got like your braces off, your body is smokin' hot and your hair is all like freakin' gorgeous! Did you go on like some reality show or something? I can't believe how much you've like changed and everything. It's like way awesome!"

I was annoyed at her shallow command of the English language and also so flustered all I could manage to get out was, "Uh, yeah, I gotta make sure I'm not late so I can get signed up for the AP classes before they're all full." Except that AP classes never filled up but how would Heather Mansfield know that? You had to test to get into them and it was normal to have less than 15 kids in a class. But Heather, who barely kept a 2.0 GPA so she could cheerlead, wouldn't have a clue about such things.

"Oh, okay. Sure. So you wanna like hang out after or whatever? Maybe you know, like go do something together? I've got the whole day free to spend with you, Calvin." That was the voice girls like her used to talk to guys like Jason Wilson who'd started at quarterback since his sophomore year but never to me. This was just way too weird. My face felt like I'd been in a tanning booth too long and I couldn't get away from her fast enough. "Uh, sure. I guess. Maybe. We'll see, okay?"

"Okay! It's a date. And no one stands me up for a date, Calvin," she teased. Or at least it sounded like teasing. Since this form of teasing was something I'd never experienced, I really couldn't be sure. "I'll be waiting for you right here, okay, Calvin?" 

I wanted to scream, "My name is CAL, you stupid bitch!" but I just kept walking and headed for the gym. Heather might be a bitch but for the umpteenth time, she'd made my dick hard. Thank God for jeans, new or otherwise.

As soon as I walked in, I spotted the AP advisor's table. Mr. Winthrop was the AP advisor but I didn't see him anywhere around. Instead, I saw Mrs. Bentley sitting at the table and I stopped dead in my tracks. She was without the doubt the best looking teacher I'd ever seen and maybe the best looking woman in general. I'd had a crush on her since the first time I saw her as did half the guys in school. But she was married, had a kid about my age, and she had no idea I was alive even though I'd taken an AP class from her last year. Well, maybe she knew I was alive. She was always friendly to me and it didn't seem to matter what someone looked like. She was just a really nice lady. The word "classy" came to mind and it seemed to fit as nicely as the knit top she was wearing.

I had to get someone to sign off on all AP classes, so I took a deep breath and headed toward the table where she was sitting. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was wearing a sleeveless, white knit top that showed off her perfectly-sized breasts, thin arms, and petite neck in the best way imaginable. She had high cheekbones, full lips, and a smile that could make a guy weak in the knees. I still hadn't managed to turn off the furnace glowing in my face from my encounter with Heather when I realized just looking at Mrs. Bentley was having the same effect on me. I felt my sweat on the palms of my hands and self-conscious about the huge bulge in my pants as I stepped up to the table. I prayed she wasn't aware of either.

Mrs. Bentley looked right at me and said, "Hi. I'm Mrs. Bentley, the AP advisor. Do you need someone to sign your class list?"

I stood there staring for a moment before I managed to say, "Hi, Mrs. Bentley. It's me, Cal. You know, from your chemistry class last year?" I was trying not to stutter or stammer but she was SO attractive I felt like I might get my tongue wrapped around my eye teeth and go blind at any moment. The jeans were restraining my huge woody but I knew it had to be visible. I just hoped she wouldn't look, you know, down there.

She blinked a couple of times and then her jaw dropped. "Cal? Is that really you? Oh my God! I can't believe how you've changed." As she looked me up and down, I felt my face go from light red to a deep shade of crimson in a heartbeat. "Wow! I've seen some pretty amazing transformations in my life but this is truly amazing. I'm not sure what all you've done but whatever it is, it's working. You look great, Cal!"

I had no idea what to say. I was trying so hard not to look at her boobs while assuming she'd seen my chubby that I couldn't even remember why I was there. "Cal?" I heard her say. "Are you okay? Do you need me to approve your AP classes or something?"

Finally, I came back to reality and said, "Yes. Exactly. I want to take all AP classes this year, but I thought Mr. Winthrop would be here."

Mrs. Bentley informed me he was now our new assistant principal and that she was the school's AP advisor. "Looks like we'll be working closely together this year, Cal. I see you're taking AP chemistry and AP organic chemistry. No problem. You're such a smart guy you won't have any problem with either but if you do, just let me know. I'm always happy to help. And for the record, you've always been the nicest person, Cal. I hope that doesn't change now that you're well, you know, officially hot. It would be a real shame to see such an amazing change on the outside affect what's on the inside—a really sweet, adorable young man." The way she smiled at me was almost more than I could handle. First Marie, then Aunt Holly, then Heather Mansfield, and now Laura Bentley. 

All I could think of to say was, "Don't worry, Mrs. Bentley, I won't," as I clumsily stuck my schedule in her face which she politely took, signed, and dated. 

"See you in class, Cal, okay?" she said as she returned my paperwork. All I had to do now was drop it off at the office and go home. 

Just then I heard Heather's voice again along with that of Amanda (the Panda—the only name I could think of to call her when she referred to me as "Bucky" the first time.) "You see! I told you it was true, didn't I? And you wouldn't believe me. Such a Doubting Thomas! Was I right or what?" Amanda bubbled as Heather sidled up to me and grabbed my arm. "Oh, hi Mrs. Bentley. Nice to see you. Cute top! Calvin and I are going out now, right Calvin?" 

I was now clearly flustered and unsure what to so or do. I mumbled, "Uh, well, I you did say something about getting together to do something later, right?"

Heather grinned wickedly and said, "Oh, we're gonna do something together. That's for sure, Calvin!"

Mrs. Bentley just laughed and gave me that, "See, you're in for it!" kind of look as Heather started to pull me away. Just as we turned around, my best friend, Glen Hairston, was standing there right in front of us.

"Cal! Is that you? I go away for the summer and you go through some kind of metamorphosis from caterpillar to butterfly. Kinda like a Human Transformer, right Dude?" Glen laughed his goofy, genuine laugh and Heather stepped between us and said, "Get lost, loser. Calvin's with me. Go find another nerd to hang out with. Bye-eee!"

I let go of Heather's hand and said, "That's okay, Heather. Glen and I have a lot of catching up to do. He was gone all summer and we haven't even talked. Maybe we can get together some other time, okay?"

The look on her face was timeless. It was the classic "if looks could kill" face and it was scary as hell. Her voice was icy cold as she said, "If you choose him over me, you won't be seeing me later or EH-ver." Her voice rose on the first syllable of "ever" in a way that let me know no one says "no" to Heather Mansfield and gets away with it. I had no idea whether or not I was making the biggest mistake of my life, but no amount of physical beauty could make that girl attractive to me.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Heather" I said quietly. "But Glen is my best friend so if I have to choose, this is a no-brainer."

Heather spun on her heels and stomped off. Amanda stood there and said, "Guess you can take the ugly out of the stupid boy but you can't take the stupid out of the ugly boy. You'll regret this, Calvin." 

I didn't know what else to do so I just shrugged my shoulders as I replied, "Maybe so." 

As we turned to walk away, I heard someone clapping softly. I turned back toward the AP table and saw it was Mrs. Bentley. Very quietly she said to me, "Bravo, Cal! Very nicely done. That was impressive." She was smiling broadly. "Looks like you haven't changed the best part about you, Cal. You can be with any girl you want now. I know that may sound superficial but it's just the way the world works. You're in a new world now and that can be a little intimidating. Don't let that go to your head and above all else, don't settle for someone whose beauty is literally only skin deep. I just can't see you as a player. You're better than that. See, I told you you were special and you just validated my hypothesis! Chalk one up for the good guys! I know people, Cal. You're one of those good guys. Stay that way, okay?"

"Sure. Uh, thank you, Mrs. Bentley. I will. I promise." And then she smiled that smile of hers at me. As I turned to leave, I looked back one more time and asked, "When you said any girl, did you really mean that?"

"Of course I did. All you have to do is be yourself and ask." Again, that smile. I thought I might cream my jeans right then and there as I reminded myself that she was married, probably 20 years older than me, and my teacher. Any girl couldn't literally mean any girl, could it? You know, as in any woman? I dismissed the thought as Glen and I made our way outside. I realized she'd obviously meant any high school girl. By the time we got to the parking lot, several other girls to whom I'd previously been invisible went out of their way to say "hi" to me. The verbal greetings were all accompanied with smiles and giggles from their friends. I realized then and there that I wasn't at all prepared internally for the attention coming my way due to a few simple cosmetic changes that had taken place externally. I'd wanted and imagined this kind of attention all my life and now that it was coming my way, I had no idea how to deal with it. I resolved that I would figure it out and that I would not become like Heather Mansfield.


Making the Grade Ch. 01-02



Kristin Campbell was filled with anxiety as she sat in Professor Wilson's office. The 20 year old junior had failed two out of the last three statistics exams and hoped the educator would show some leniency, or perhaps better -- favoritism, as she approached the last couple months of the semester. She had heard through numerous girlfriends that the professor, who was widely known on campus as a lesbian, sometimes had "favorites" which seemed to do well in her class.

Kristen was a very pretty blonde, with dark brown eyes, and silky blonde tresses that fell down the mid part of her back. While only 5'4", Kristen showed off a 35C-23-34 figure which had guys on campus drooling. Kristen was no saint in high school but she certainly had a coming out party in college when it came to sex. She knew she was attractive and combined with her infectious smile and warm personality, she found no shortage of suiters.

While she had never had sex with another girl, she was curious and now given her poor showing in Professor Wilson's class, she wondered if a deal could be made. She had seen how some of the other coeds seemed to hang around after class, particularly those who struck her as girls who preferred an alternate lifestyle. There were quite a few girls who were known to be lesbians who often dined together in the cafeteria or lived in "The Lodge" -- a converted hotel not far from the campus grounds where gay students roomed.

Kristen sat in a reception area as she watched what appeared to be a graduate student work silently at a desk looking over papers. Professors typically didn't have secretaries but quite a few tenured professors had grad students who fulfilled those roles. After waiting twenty minutes or so, the student took a call and then told Kristen that the professor could see her.

The young coed was amazed at how large the office actually was. It didn't appear that way from the outside but it apparently ran the length of two rooms down the hall. Tracey Wilson was 43 and had been on faculty since she was 26. She taught statistics, economics, and business law.

Wilson was dressed in a smart grey dress and matching jacket with a white blouse underneath. She didn't look up as she told Kristin to take a seat in one of the two empty side chairs.

"How can I help you Miss Campbell?" Wilson asked still concentrating on a stack of papers before her.

Kristen hesitated before beginning, causing Tracey to glance up, for the first time taking in the young coed's concerned face. "Well, I'm sort of having a difficult time in your class and I was kind of hoping you might offer a suggestion at how I can improve my grades."

Tracey waited for her to continue, but sensing she had concluded the professor chimed in.

"Yes, I see your grades are lacking. You started off well, a 'B' on your first exam but since then you have really fallen short. Didn't I have you last semester in an economics class?" she added.

Kristen beamed that she recalled, "Yes mam."

"I'm sorry, I don't remember all my students, and how did you do in that class?" she asked.

"I made an 'A'," she responded.

"Well, you certainly have the intellect. Are you putting in the time reviewing the lessons?" the professor asked.

"It's just difficult," Kristen responded, "The formulas and everything - I just have a hard time."

Professor Wilson studied her for a second before she began, "Kristen, have you given thought to joining a study group? Perhaps friending someone in the class to help you? Unfortunately I can't assign a gradate student to every student who needs help but I do want to see my students succeed."

"Well, I'm not sure I really know anyone in particular in class. Can you suggest someone?" Kristen asked.

Professor Wilson smiled back, "Look, I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, you need to commit yourself to your books and perhaps take a little more time reviewing the exercises." The professor started to dismiss her when there seemed to be something Kristen wanted to add.

"Will there be anything else," she queried.

"Yes mam, I was wondering if there might be any chance for extra credit... I mean something to pull up these other grades."

"Extra credit?," the professor shot back.

"Yes mam, something I could do. I mean right now, even if I did improve on the last couple of exams, I might still fail the course," Kristen reasoned.

"Yes, that's very possible. But something you should have taken into account before now. Anyway, you can repeat the course next semester and be much more prepared if that occurs."

Professor Wilson noted the young coed seemed to be on the verge of tears, struggling to respond, when between breaths she informed the teacher, "I didn't do well on some subjects the last couple of semesters and daddy warned me if this semester was the same, he'd pull me out of school and send me to community college to finish up," Kristen collected her thoughts before pleading, "Please Ms Wilson, I'll do anything. Anything at all, if you could find your way in helping me."

Kristen searched the professor's face. She wondered if she dared go there, what she actually came to ask. "Professor Wilson, some of my friends said that sometimes, well... in the past you may have helped some girls get ahead. Girls who might have also done things for you. I'd do that," she added.

The young coed's hands were shaking wondering if she had crossed the line. If the professor would be incensed at her offer. Perhaps suspend her on the spot.

"Miss Campbell, are you suggesting I give you a passing grade in exchange for favors? Is that what you are asking?" she retorted with an air of indignity.

"Please Ms. Wilson," she pleaded. "I just heard, well I know you are attracted to women... I know that's wrong to bring up, and you could probably fail me on the spot or worse for even saying what I just did, but I've seen how you look at me, and I don't know, you seem to be interested, and I'm interested in you... that's all. I just thought maybe if the stories are true and everything, well you might consider helping me," Kristen rambled.

Tracey Wilson sat back in her black leather executive chair studying the coed whose tears ran down the side of her face carrying hints of black mascara. Kristin had dressed in a tight denim mini-dress that showed her gorgeous legs with little yellow sandals and a yellow blouse which did little to hide the braless breasts it encased. Kristin's dark brown nipples were quite evident under the top and the professor wondered if the coed had intentionally picked the wardrobe for her.

At least one of the statements was quite true in the fact that Professor Wilson was interested in the young girl who sat on the front row of her class and for the last several weeks had seemed to dress more and more provocatively. It wasn't lost on Tracey that Kristin often came to class showing off her breasts and displaying her gorgeous tanned legs.

On more than a few occasions the older woman had become distracted looking down at the comely student sitting on the front row. She noticed her little toes painted pink, red, and sometimes burgundy with the colorful stars tattooed on the top of her foot. Several times as the coed was engaged in a statistics exercise, Tracey would stand over her shoulder looking down at her. Sometimes even catching a glance at her beautiful breasts and an occasional glimpse of her hard dark brown nipples under her shirt. 

Now here she was, overtly as she could be, propositioning the professor. Offering herself as the collateral in a high stakes game.

Tracey was taken back at the directness of the student and admired her courage and bravado but she also had to be careful. While she was a tenured professor and was "out" in her sexual preference, the administration would act harshly on a professor openly fraternizing with a student, particularly in a sexual relationship.

"Kristin, I'm a little shocked and quite taken back. Mind you, you don't have to answer but are you a lesbian yourself?" Tracey asked, a little unsure if she should even head down that road. "No, no I'm not, at least, I've never done it before. But I have a few girlfriends who have and they, well they talk about it. How much they like being with other girls and all," Kristen responded feeling a little more at ease that Professor Wilson didn't seem offended or angry.

"And are these girls gay?" the professor asked.

"No, they have boyfriends. They just sort of do both but they've shared stuff with me. How they..." Kristen hesitated just a second, wondering how blunt she could be. Seeing the teacher hanging on her next word she continued, "How they go down on each other and they use things on each other. Vibrators, and sometimes they use strapon dildos with each other," she explained.

"And that turns you on, hearing about it," Tracey asked starting to become intrigued with the young coed.

"Yes, a lot. I've wondered about it and well," again she paused, wondering whether she should go on. Sensing Tracey wanted to hear more she started back, "I've heard the stories about you. How you are a lesbian and sometimes in class I've fantasized about you and me."

"Really?" Tracey responded.

"Yea, I sometimes think about us together," Kristen added.

"Maybe if you did less fantasizing and paid more attention in class your grades would be better," Tracey smiled. "I shouldn't ask, but you really have me intrigued. What do you fantasize us doing?" the older woman asked.

"Sometimes, when all the students have left the class, and it's just you and me, you disrobe and sitting on your desk you have me lick you. Lick you down there," she added looking down at her own lap. "And like my girlfriends talk about, you'll take one of those cocks and fasten it around you and take me."

Tracey was beginning to get aroused listening to Kristin. She knew how dangerous the situation could be but she also knew how much this young coed excited her. All of her relationships with other students had taken place over weeks, months, leaving nothing to chance. Very little doubt that the truth would never likely be divulged about her and the students. Rumors and innuendoes perhaps. But nothing definitive anyone could use to tarnish her academic record.

"So who knows you're here," Tracey asked as she slowly rose from her chair making her way to the entrance of her office.

"No one, no one at all," Kristin confided.

"And this idea you have, perhaps getting some extra credit as you call it. You've not discussed it with anyone?" Wilson pressed.

"I promise," Kristin assured her. "And I wouldn't say anything to anybody, and I'd do anything you ask Professor Wilson, anything at all," Kristin assured her.

Tracey quietly flipped the latch on the door as she walked around the student still sitting in the side chair. She could smell the coed's perfume as she stood over her with Kristin's back to the educator.

"Anything," Tracey echoed pondering Kristin's words. "And I take it, for as long as you're in my class?" Tracey asked.

"Yes, as long as you like... I mean whatever you want," she agreed.

Tracey walked around the girl and then sat, leaning against her desk as she looked down at Kristin. "Kristin, you need to understand a few things. First, regardless of what you may have heard, I've never given any student a grade they did not earn and I will not start that practice now. I will not give you a passing grade. In my class you will earn it. It will require discipline, commitment, and hard work but you will learn."

"I'm very interested in your proposition but I need to think on it. You may well need to reflect on it as well. You see I am a lesbian, that's not in question. But I am very dominant in my relationships. I prefer women who are quite submissive. Do you understand what that means?" Tracey asked.

Kristin nodded her head. "Perhaps, perhaps you do. But I'm not certain you are ready to submit yourself entirely to my will. However, that said, I am willing to consider it. First, why don't you show me what you've been teasing me with for these last few weeks. Stand up for me and remove that top. Let me see those beautiful breasts that you've been taunting me with," Tracey directed. The coed didn't hesitate as she pushed the chair back and rose and began unbuttoning the little yellow blouse and pulled it from her shoulders revealing the golden brown breasts capped off by two dark nipples which already stood erect. Tracey's eyes showed their approval as they took in her naked chest.

"And the dress, the dress too," the professor added. Kristin stepped out of her sandals and then unsnapped the top button on the denim skirt and unzipped the fly easing the miniskirt off her shapely hips leaving just her satin blue bikini panties. No words were exchanged as she stuck her thumbs in the elastic of the panties and eased them down too without being prodded. Now standing nude in front of her teacher, Kristin felt vulnerable but excited.

She felt Tracey's gaze as it feasted on her shaved pussy lips and took in her navel with the little dangle piercing which hung from it, glistening in the light of the professor's office.

"Turn around for me," Professor Wilson encouraged. Slowly Kristin turned as Tracey took in Kristin's shapely ass and her beautiful toned legs. Tracey was captivated by the colorful tribal tattoo that stretched across the small of her back, something that she and a girlfriend in high school had done together on a lark during a beach trip when they graduated. 

The professor had no tattoos or piercings herself but was amazed at how many of the young students decorated their bodies. Kristin was certainly no exception with the tat on her back and the colorful stars which adorned her right foot.

"You are really a very pretty girl," Tracey commented as Kristin completed her turn. "Now we're going to see how well you can follow instructions. I want you to close your eyes and under no circumstance are you to open them until I direct you to do so,: Tracey warned.

Kristin did as directed and closed her eyes. "Now I want you to kneel down on the floor, on your knees," the professor commanded as Tracey submitted, sinking to her knees on the cool wooden floor.

"Good, very good," Tracey praised her. Now, I want you to take both of your hands and play with your breasts, with your fingers. I want you to pull on your nipples, play with your nipples for me, show me what a naughty girl you can be," Kristin did as she was told as she twisted her hard nipples between her fingers, holding the two globes, pinching the hard nubs between her thumb and finger.

Tracey enjoyed watching the girl and then had her reach down with her right hand and play with her pussy. "I want you to stick your fingers in your cunt, play with yourself. Show me what you do when your alone and you're so horny. Show me how you play with yourself," she encouraged.

Kristin did as she was told as she ran her fingers up her slit, playing with her clit as she plunged a few fingers up her wet pussy. "That's nice Kristin, now take your fingers out and suck on them. Lick your juices clean from your fingers," she encouraged. "You ever tasted your own pussy baby?"

"Yes mam," Kristin groaned as she placed her wet fingers to her mouth.

"Really? Tell me about it," Tracey encouraged her.

"Sometimes when a guy fucks me, he wants me to suck on him before he cums. I've tasted my juices on his cock. Other times, I might just taste it when I'm playing with myself," she confided.

"You like it baby. You like tasting your pussy," Tracey asked.

"Yea," Kristin moaned back.

Tracey watched as the girl plunged her fingers in and out of her own cunt, occasionally bringing the wet digits to her own mouth now without being asked. Cleaning off her fingers before redepositing them in her wet pussy.

"Now I want you to crawl to the sound of my voice. Come over here baby. Come to me but keep your eyes closed."

Kristin walked over to the desk on her knees until she felt herself come into contact with her teacher.

"Now Kristin, I want you to reach under my skirt and feel my panties. Pull them down," Tracey directed as she pulled her own skirt up to her hips allowing the coed access. Kristin did as directed and pulled the panties down and then she felt Tracey raise her legs so Kristin could slip them off.

"Can you smell how aroused you've made me sweets? Can you smell that pussy that you've been longing to taste?" Tracey teased.

"Yes mam. Please can I? Can I taste you? Can I lick your pussy?" Kristin begged.

"Yes sweetheart, you can, but first I want you to lean forward and kiss it. Place those pretty pink lips to my cunt," she urged.

Kristin leaned forward and felt the close cropped hair of Tracey's pussy come in contact with her soft lips. She smelled sweet and Kristin placed a kiss and then more on her lips. She felt the wetness from Tracey's arousal and took in the sweet aroma that she would come to worship over the next few weeks and months.

"Very good, now I want you to stick out your tongue and lick it. Lick my pussy baby. Run your pretty pink tongue over my pussy," she instructed. Kristin did as she was told and savored her first pussy. It was better than she possibly hoped it could be. She loved the taste and could not get enough as she buried her tongue deep into Tracey's twat.

"Without opening your eyes, look up at me. I want to see your beautiful face as you lick me baby. I want to see that gorgeous tongue of yours as you feast on my pussy," Tracy instructed.

Kristin's face was pure ecstasy as she teased Tracey's clit with her mouth and tongue, running it the length of her slit and plunging it as far in her hole as possible. Soon her face was covered in the secretions which oozed out of Tracey's tasty twat.

"You like that pussy don't you baby? Now you see why your girlfriends loved eating pussy so much. Men have fought wars, died for pussy but women... only another woman truly knows how to pleasure a woman. Once you've tasted a pussy you'll never be the same. You'll never look at a pretty girl on campus without wondering what it would be like to go down on her. How it would feel for her to plant her face between your thighs. There's nothing like it. Nothing!" Tracey added as Kristin continued to attack the professor's cunt with her mouth, savoring her juices like a fine wine.

"Lay back baby, lay on the floor," Tracey instructed Kristin as she pushed her away from her cunt. Kristin was disappointed. She was still savoring the older woman's pussy and didn't want to stop but she also knew to do exactly as the professor said as she lay down, the cool wooden floor welcoming her prone body.

"Now open your eyes and look at me," Tracey directed as the girl opened her eyes and saw the teacher half sitting on the desk looking down at her. "Now I want you to cum for me. Play with that pretty pussy of yours till you cum," Tracey commanded as Kristin returned her fingers to her cunt and pulled at her own nipples.

Soon Kristin was squirming and moaning as she stroked her throbbing clit.

Tracey dropped a high heel off her foot and moved it to the coed's crotch, dipping her toe until it gently grazed over Kristin's folds. Tracey pushed just a little more until her big toe slipped between Kristin's pussy lips causing the young coed to groan. Little by little Tracey pushed harder, more and more of her pretty foot disappeared in Kristin's twat and she withdrew a little and toyed with the student's clit before rubbing the toe again through her slippery wet folds.

"You're such a nasty slut aren't you? What would daddy say now if he saw his little girl lying on my floor, your face covered in my cunt juice, your dyke professor fucking your little twat with her foot? What would he think of his little angel now baby?" Tracey inquired.




Making the Grade Ch. 01-02



"I don't know," groaned Kristin.

"You don't know?" pressed Tracey. "I think he'd feel like he raised a little lesbian slut. That's what he'd think. I think you want to be my little angel now don't you sweetie? You want to be my little dark angel?" Tracey asked.

"So you really want to give yourself to me? You want me to teach you to be the perfect little lesbian dyke? To submit to me totally... to do my bidding whatever it is? That's what you want?" Tracey continued as she pushed her foot in and out of Kristin's hot box.

"Yes, oh fuck yes," Kristin moaned as she grabbed the professor's foot and guided it in and out of her burning cunt. Pulling it in deeper, fucking herself with it as if it were a cock. Kristin was as turned on as she had ever been. Never had she felt so dirty and slutty as she lay on the professor's floor allowing herself to be fucked in such a manner

Within moments Kristen felt an orgasm building deep within her womb as her body convulsed like it had never before. Her breasts heaved as she thrashed about cumming hard until she collapsed spent on the floor.

Tracey removed her foot from the coed's wet pussy with a smile across her face. She knew that another straight girl had been turned. She would never again be the same.

Kristin slowly opened her eyes to see her beautiful professor looking down at her appreciatively. She pulled herself up and then kneeling kissed Tracey's foot still soaked in her pussy juice planting kisses on the top of her foot, then her toes. Reaching over she picked up the high heel and gently placed it on the professor's sleek foot and then in one last gesture kissed the shoe showing her absolute submission to her new mistress.

"Do you have a car on campus," Tracey asked.

"Yes mam," Kristin replied, still kneeling naked before her professor.

"Good, this is my address. I live outside the city. Rather secluded but you can use a Garmin if you have it or Google. Be there at 7 tonight," Tracey added as she turned and went back to her chair watching the girl rise and dress, taking the address that Tracey had scribbled on the sheet of paper.

Kristin looked over at her professor one last time before she headed out the door. She tried not to look over at the graduate student who glanced over at her as she made her hasty exit out of the office. Kristin was well aware that the student had likely heard the noises which emanated from the professor's office. Fully aware of what had just transpired within the confines of the room.

She had arrived at Professor Wilson's office unsure of what lay in store. Now she was quite confident she knew. Soon she would be the professor's submissive slut. She would do what was asked of her, no matter what she was directed to do. It was what Kristen had asked for -- what she wanted. She wanted to experience what it was like to submit to a strong willed lesbian -- and now she had. Only that was just the beginning. 

Chapter 2

Kristin was beginning to think she had driven too far when she saw the numbers on the mailbox. Rather indistinct sitting at the end of a drive as she made the right turn driving down a winding dirt road, lined with tall green pines on both sides. It was much more secluded than she had imagined until the trees broke and a beautiful two story home came into view. It was simply spectacular.

Kristin parked in the drive, just outside a garage, and rang the doorbell. She had butterflies in her stomach as she waited in the dim light on the doorstep. Tracey Wilson looked much different dressed in a pair of beige slacks and a casual shirt than the professional dresses and suits she wore in class.

She wore no makeup, lipstick, and her soft black hair hung on both side of her face. Tracey was barefoot holding a glass of wine as she answered the door with a smile. "I hope you had no problems finding the place. Please, come on in," Tracey motioned with her glass as Kristin stepped through the threshold and took in the magnificence of the home.

"Wow, this is really nice," Kristen sighed with awe.

"Yes, I saw the plans in a magazine and added my own touch," she smiled.

"Do professors make that... I'm sorry. That's rather rude of me," Kristin caught herself.

"No, that's fine. I'm sure some do but my grandmother was fairly wealthy and left me a substantial trust fund. The only condition was I was to become an educator like herself. But that's really what I wanted to be anyway so it all worked out," Tracey added.

Kristen was surveying the tastefully decorated room, adorned with paintings and beautiful antique furniture.

"I was just enjoying a glass of wine. I'd offer you one but I'm not sure you're of age are you," Tracey queried.

"Are you concerned you might add to my delinquency?" Kristen teased back with a smile.

Tracey realized how ridiculous that sounded. "No, I guess not. Would you like a glass? It's a devilish cabernet."

"I would love it," Kristen responded as she continued to take in the opulent surroundings.

They both enjoyed a couple of glasses of wine as they sat on a leather sofa talking like old friends as Kristen shared her background, her family, and most importantly her social life on campus. While Tracey was selective in sharing her information, she spoke of some intimate details of her life as well.

"Step over here. I want to show you something," Tracey directed as they walked over to a computer monitor sitting atop what seemed to be an antique oak table. Tracey tapped a few strokes on the keyboard and a video loaded. It was video she had taken earlier that day in her office, "That's me!" Kristin shot out.

"Yes sweets. I took it from my IPhone. Just a precautionary measure. I know you said you could be trusted but I have a tad more on the line than you do."

"What are you going to do with that," Kristin questioned as she watched the video of her kneeling on the floor, playing with her tits, stroking her own pussy."

"Nothing dear, absolutely nothing," Tracey assured her. "It's merely insurance that you keep your word. Of course, were you to spread stories to others which might get back to the administration, well first off its my word against yours but more importantly this video might one day end up on the Internet," Tracey warned.

Kristen looked up at her teacher. A look of shock, until Tracey broke her stare. "Look, this is my favorite part." It was video of Kristen licking Tracey's pussy. There was no sound but the look on Kristen's face on the video was pure lust.

"You really liked eating my pussy didn't you Angel?" she remarked. "Look, don't worry. This won't go anywhere. As a matter of fact, you might want a copy of you licking your first pussy for yourself. For your collection baby," Tracey said with a smile.

Tracey hit a key and escaped from the video as the screen returned to its desktop icons. Kristen was pondering what she had just seen. It had never occurred to her to reveal to anyone what she was doing with the professor. 

"I guess you know now that I'm very intrigued with your proposition," Tracey began. "However, like I said in my office, you must earn your grades. But I am prepared to assist you with one of my graduate students. Provided you are sincere in your studies, I will ensure you get the proper instruction to do well. You might even do much better than you anticipated," she acknowledged.

"You have two more exams with the ability to drop your lowest score. The exam at the end of the semester will count 30% of your final grade. It's possible you could still make a 'B' in my class," Tracey acknowledged. 

"Are you sure you are willing to totally submit to me my love?" Tracey questioned the young blonde who stood before her.

"Yes mam, I am. I want that," Kristin affirmed.

"Very well, then I want you to disrobe," Tracey directed.

Kristin had worn a pair of blue jeans and a white top as she slid off her shoes and removed a pair of tennis socks she had on. She pulled her top off revealing that she was braless. She eased down a yellow thong revealing her bare pussy.

Tracey looked on very appreciatively as she began, "In class I am the professor but here in my home I will be your mistress and you will refer to me as such. You will spend quite a bit of time here and unless I direct otherwise, you will always be nude in my presence so that I can gaze upon your treasures. You will park your car in the garage. There you will undress and enter my home naked."

Tracey continued, "As I stated earlier I will assign Leah to you. She is a gorgeous little grad student. I think you will like her immensely. I know she will enjoy you. Leah will help you with your studies but she will also be your mistress. You will obey her without question just as you will do everything I ask of you."

The older professor walked around Kristen, standing in the center of her living room in her naked glory. "You are so beautiful," Tracey gushed. "So how many boys have you been with?" she asked.

"I'm not certain," Kristen answered back.

"Five, ten?" Tracey asked while trailing her fingers on Kristen's bare shoulders.

"More than ten but I'm not sure," Kristen remarked.

"Oh, fifteen..." she paused before countering, "Twenty?"

"I'm not certain mistress," Kristen acknowledged.

"My, you are the little slut. No idea how many guys you've been with. So you like having all those dicks filling your pussy," Tracey teased, her right hand now gently touching the coed's pussy, gently grazing the outer folds causing Kristen to shudder.

"Yes mam, I love it. I love having sex," she acknowledged.

"And you like sucking these boys off? You like sucking their dicks?" she taunted as her fingers trailed over Kristen's lips as they pushed in, having Kristen take her finger, sucking it.

"I suppose you swallow their cum like the good little slut?" Tracey went on.

"Yes mam, I do. I swallow their loads when they don't cum in my pussy," she responded.

"I take it you're on the pill?" Tracey asked.

"Yes mam," Kristin affirmed.

"I see," Tracey shook her head as her fingers now trailed over Kristen's firm ass. "And do we do anal? Of course you do. That's a silly question. A slut like you probably loves doing anal."

Kristen just nodded her head in silent assent.

"Well, we now have new rules angel. This pussy, she touched her there for emphasis, "belongs to me. Your mouth, your ass...your body. It belongs solely to me. There will be no more dicks in my pussy. Do we understand? A slut like you needs lots of sex and I'll make sure you have plenty of pussy to eat and cock for that hot cunt of yours," Tracey said sternly.

"You wanted to be my little slut. Well, you are now, my little lesbian slut. I intend to whore you out to some of my friends who love to fuck straight little girls like you. Of course we know you're not as straight as you pretend to be. You're more than curious. You loved eating my pussy and in a few minutes I'm going to fuck that little hot cunt of yours," Tracey informed her.

Tracey walked behind Kristen and pulled her hair down. Standing a good four inches taller, the older woman flicked her tongue across the coed's mouth. Darting it back and forth, teasing the girl. Kristen wanted to kiss her. She wanted to take the professor's tongue into her mouth, she desired to be kissed but the older woman simply toyed with her, sensing the young girl wanted it so much.

Finally she closed her mouth over Kristen's and kissed her long, passionately, their tongues trading places in each other's mouth. Kristen wanted this. She had fantasized kissing her teacher so many times in class. While Kristen had never had sex with a woman before today, she had as a teen practiced kissing with a girlfriend. But this was different. She felt the familiar burning in her vagina, a feeling which rushed through her body as she allowed the woman to embrace her.

Tracey broke the kiss and saw Kristin slowly open her eyes. Kristin's eyes searched the older woman's face, yielding, ready.

"I will bring out feelings in you, you never knew existed. The next few months you will discover a new Kristen. I ask only that you devote yourself to me. You will submit yourself totally and unquestionably. Unlike your girlfriends who prefer to be bisexual, you will focus your passions on females. Give yourself totally to myself and the women I choose for you," Tracey added as she rubbed Kristin's long blonde hair through her fingers.

"If I hear one time there has been a boy, and I'll know, we're done," Tracey stated looking directly in Kristin's eyes.

"Your body belongs to me. You will please me and do whatever I ask, do you understand?" Tracey stated.

"Yes mistress," Kristin affirmed.

"Very well, come with me and we will begin your lessons," Tracey instructed as she took the blonde by the hand and led her through the kitchen and then down steps. Walking the flight of steps, Kristin saw what appeared to be a den or rec room. Only it was unfinished with a concrete floor. She noticed hooks and ropes hanging from the ceiling and quite a variety of sex implements on the wall -- whips, handcuffs, and leather harnesses.

The concrete was cold on her bare feet as Tracey led her to a table where she took leather straps and buckled them to Kristen's wrists and then to her ankles. It was then she noticed steel hoops in the floor positioned under the ropes.

Tracey hooked her ankles at each of the hoops using a clasp, spreading her legs about two feet apart. Then Tracey took each rope and ran it to the wrist restraint and pulling it raised her arms over her head and to the side. Kristin was now tied and restrained in an "X" formation as her breasts rose up and down betraying her nervousness.

Tracey only smiled as she retreated behind her and then moments later emerged with a leather collar. It was black with silver studs and a hoop in the center. Tracey reached around and fastened it around the girl's neck securing it in place.

"You will wear this at all times in my presence as a reminder you are my slut. That you belong to me. That you have given yourself totally to me," Tracey reminded her. "I will keep it in the garage and you will wear it when you have disrobed and enter my house."

Tracey walked over to the side of the room, just out of sight of Kristin and returned with what appeared to be a short whip. She would later come to know it as a flogger. It was 22" of leather with a small hoop at the end. Tracey set it on the table along with other items she retrieved from just out of Kristin's sight.

The professor checked the ropes affirming they were taut as she ran her hands over the naked coed's frame and then down to her ass. "You have such a nice ass angel. Such a pretty ass. I'm really looking forward to fucking it and your delicious pussy but first things first. So you like a little cock in you ass baby? You like being a dirty girl?"

Kristin nodded her head knowing that was the response Tracey wanted. "Yes, because you're such as slut. Well we're going to fuck you but first we must stretch out that hole a little bit. No more little dick for you. We're going to make sure you have some cock, lesbian cock." Standing behind Kristin, Tracey reached around the blonde and held up a flesh colored anal plug in front of her.

"You know what this is baby? It's a plug for your pretty ass. To stretch out that little hole for your mistress," Tracey hissed in Kristin's ear.

Kristin felt Tracey pull apart her ass cheeks and felt the cool liquid lube drop on her backside as it ran down her crack. Tracey rubbed it into her asshole, and soon she felt the probing head of the plug slide easily into her ass, stretching, deeper, until the plug was secure and her ass closed over the bulb.

"Nice, very nice," Tracey commented as she moved in front of Kristen. "You've got really pretty breasts angel and I really love your hard nipples. You have really dark features," Tracey commented as she rubbed her hand gently over Kristin's breast and pulled on her nipple.

"My mother is Columbian. Part Columbian, that's where I get my dark skin from," Kristin informed her.

"Its pretty. I love your skin tone and your lovely brown eyes, and your hair is so soft," Tracey added. "I especially love these dark nipples. I noticed them in class. I could see them under your shirt, but then you knew that," Tracey added as she rolled a hard nipple between her finger and thumb causing Kristen to wince. 

"Pain... there's such a fine line between pleasure and pain. We're going to explore that tonight," Tracey informed her captive. "First, we're going to play with these a little. I love long nipples on a woman. We're going to train yours a bit. Perhaps add just a little length to them," Tracey said as she took what appeared to be a bulb squeezed the air out of it and then placed one end on Kristin's nipple. Letting go, the vacuum pulled Kristin's nipple into the bulb. Likewise, she placed a suction on the other nipple.

"This will make your cute little nipples really sensitive," Tracey informed her. "You know a few of my students have theirs pierced. I couldn't help but notice your little belly button is pierced. You ever thought about doing these?" Tracey asked as she lifted one of the breasts up.

"I haven't thought about it mistress," Kristen answered back.

"You certainly have the nips for it, nice and long," she added. Perhaps we'll have it done. I may have you pierced. Would you like that?" the professor asked.

"If you like mistress," Kristin responded eliciting a smile from Tracey.

Tracey was not yet done as she took a little vibrator called a bullet and slid it into Kristin's opening. The bullet was connected to a wire leading to a control which she placed on the table and set to medium. 

"There, now I'm going to change. You stay here and I'll be right back," Tracey quipped as she headed back up the steps leaving the young coed restrained with a device in her pussy, ass and suction cups attached to each nipple.

After several minutes, Kristin's body began to feel on fire. The intensity of the vibrator having Tracey's desired affect on her pussy. Then she heard the door open at the top of the steps as the sound of heels met each wooden step. What she saw next shook her to her very core.

Tracey returned wearing a black leather corset and for the first time both her ample breasts and pussy were on full view. The corset pushed her gorgeous breasts up and Kristin starred at the large pink nipples capped off by two very prominent and erect nipples. 

Tracey's pussy was trimmed but the black bush evident which framed her cunt lips. Tracey wore knee high leather boots which flared at the knees, folding over with what appeared to be three inch heels. Tracey's jet black hair was pulled back in a pony tail accentuating her lovely face. Kristen thought she was the sexiest woman she had ever seen as she made her way down and then stood before her new lover.

"How do you feel sweets? You ready to play?" Tracey asked as she removed the flogger from the table. "You've been a really bad girl haven't you angel? Out partying, fucking when you should have been back at the dorm studying," she added and then let the flogger smack against Kristen's soft ass cheeks causing the young girl to yelp.

"Go ahead angel, cry. Let it out," Tracey said as she let the leather talons again land across her shapely ass. Tracey didn't hit her hard but the leather tassels still bit into the soft flesh.

"This pussy's been bad too hasn't it. Letting all those boys fuck it," Tracey let the soft leather strands slap ever so lightly against her bare pussy lips. Even though it wasn't a hard blow, it still stung causing her to push back, but restrained by the ankle bracelets below which held her fast.

"It's important you learn discipline baby. We don't allow dicks in your pussy anymore. It's reserved for lesbian cock," she reminded her before the flogger found its mark again causing Kristin to shriek, tears rolling down her face. 




Making the Grade Ch. 01-02



Tracey alternated between her pussy, ass and thighs as she allowed the flogger to tease its victim until red markings appeared as evidence of Tracey's stern lessons. "I believe we've had enough discipline for tonight." Tracey set down the whip and loosened the ropes which had held Kristin firm. Unbuckling both the wrist and ankle restraints she had Kristin kneel and pay homage to her sweet pussy.

She had also removed the anal plug and suction cups admiring the now long stiff nipples which tingled from the air teasing them.

The young blond kissed and licked her hot hole already wet with her arousal from the excitement earlier.

Kristin feasted on Tracey's pussy, running her tongue up and down her juicy slit and sucking on her plump clit.

"Come with me angel. It's time I fucked that delicious pussy of yours," Tracey cooed.

The professor led the coed to a bedroom just off from the main basement and laid her across the bed before she knelt and kissed and licked Kristin's bare pussy. Kristin had never had another woman lick her there even though guys had gone down on her often. She loved how Tracey's soft tongue traced circles around her clit as she sucked on her little button.

Tracey drove two fingers up her twat as she licked and sucked the juices which gushed from Kristin's cunt. "Oh fuck, lick me, eat me," Kristin moaned as she placed her hands on her on own breasts. Her nipples were very sensitive from the suction devices placed on them earlier as Kristin pulled on them gently. They did feel longer than before, harder and more sensitive to the touch.

Before Kristen climaxed, Tracey sat up and removed a black leather harness from the nightstand as well as a thick flesh colored cock. The cock was much larger than the penis of the last guy she had been with but she relished having the object fill her womanhood. 

Tracey fastened it in place and positioned the head at the entrance of Kristin's vagina. "Are you ready baby? You ready for me to fuck you? To take that pussy?"

"Yes please, fuck me. Fuck me hard," Kristin moaned as Tracey eased the cock into her wet cunt. Kristin grabbed onto her teacher's ass cheeks and pulled her in deep as she wrapped her legs around Tracey's and bucked into her.

The cock felt huge as it stretched her pussy but she wanted it, desired it more than anything in her life. She couldn't remember ever feeling as fulfilled and excited as she was at that moment with Tracey's cock plunging in and out of her cunt. Her mistress was taking her pussy, her prize. She belonged to her.

"That's right angel, take it. Fuck me, surrender yourself to me," Tracey urged as she kissed the pretty blonde, pushing her tongue deep into her moist mouth. Kristen sucked on her tongue, letting her soft lips slide over Tracey's as they merged.

If there had been any doubts she enjoyed sex with another woman, they were erased now. She knew she loved lesbian sex. She knew for certain she would submit totally to her mistress. She wanted to belong to Tracey. She had never been more excited in her life.

Tracey knew the young blonde was moments away from an orgasm as she thrashed under her. Her tongue plunging back into the older woman's mouth. As Kristin's legs wrapped tighter, she felt a warm feeling sweeping across her body as she came hard, over and over.

Eventually she ebbed and she felt completely spent from the most intense feeling she had ever had as Tracey kissed her face, her neck, and sliding off, planting kisses on her breast covered in sweat.

The rubber cock slid slowly out of Kristin's well fucked pussy as the college coed wrapped her arms around her mistress and held her tight. The two lovers held on to each other for several minutes as Kristen's body recovered from the onslaught of lesbian sex. 

As they lay in bed Kristin shared small talk - how her former roommate Robin had been a big influence on her. Unfortunately Robin loved the social scene so much that her grades suffered and she didn't return to school this semester. Robin's party scene had also been Kristen's downfall as the two often went out for a night drinking and getting picked up instead of hitting the books.

Her new roommate Kelly kept much to herself. Kristen went so far as to call her shy. "Is she pretty?" Tracey asked as she parted Kristen's soft blonde hair, tucking it behind her ear as they both lay in bed.

"Yes mam, very pretty. She's about a year younger and sees a guy at another school. They talk on the cell a lot and sometimes she visits him on the weekend."

"She have a nice body?" Tracey asked.

"I know you're going to think I'm crazy but I've never seen her nude or anything. Robin and I used to walk around in our undies all the time. Sometimes naked when we both got out of the shower. But I've never seen Kelly. She always changes in the bathroom and occasionally I might see her in her panties."

"You've roomed together for three months and you guys have never seen each other naked?" Tracey shot back.

"Weird huh," the coed admitted. "Like I said, Kelly's shy. I know I've gotten undressed in front of her but I've never seen her or anything."

Kristen saw the wheels turning in Tracey's head, the slight devil grin on her face.

"Tonight when you go home, I want you to shower and come out in the nude. As a matter of fact, I want you to spend a great deal of time in the next few weeks putting on a show for your roommate. Do you understand what I'm asking you to do?" Tracey asked.

"Yes mam, I think so. You want me to seduce her?" Kristen shot back.

"No, not so much seduce her. I want you tease her," Tracey instructed.

Kristen looked into her lover's eyes. She knew she would do anything she asked. Anything. 

Kristin thought how much things had changed since this morning when she walked into Tracey's office. She had no idea how her life would be so different. As she nestled into her mistress's arms, she felt secure. She knew who she was and exactly what she wanted.



Making the Grade Ch. 01



Chapter 2

The first two weeks of school were unlike any other. The only thing that didn't seem unusual was that the weather had once again turned crappy. Cloudy and gray. That was Western Washington nine months out of every year. As far as school was concerned, I used to be able to wait for everyone to file out of a room, meander to my locker, use the restroom, and still be the first person to my next class. Now, I found myself navigating a human maze of girls who wanted to talk to me or just say "hi, Calvin!" The good news was the word was spreading that I preferred "Cal" and on more than one occasion a "groupie" was all too happy to correct a rival who didn't know the secret code. "He doesn't go by Calvin. He likes to be called 'Cal', don't you, Cal?" The first girl would roll her eyes at the second and I would just smile and slide on by only to run into the next group waiting for me. I suppose I should have been flattered but I found myself annoyed as hell with all the silly shallowness of these transparent hypocrites who wouldn't speak to me just six months ago. The one exception to that was anytime Mrs. Bentley and I passed one another and she spoke to me first. I realized I not only had a crush on her but I wanted to be with her. I wasn't sure what that meant because I was not only a virgin but hadn't even kissed... Sorry, I already mentioned that more than once.

I had one AP class with Glen and that was calculus. He was more than amused by all the recent attention and asked me if I could transfer just 10% of it his way. "Sorry man, but I don't think this is the kind of attention you want."

"How would you know what I want?" he said as he led interference down the hallway.

"Well, I know this. You're a good Mormon boy so you can only marry and therefore date, girls from your church. None of these phonies are LDS (the Mormons are The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints or "LDS" for short) so they're all off limits, right?"

"Yeah, I guess. But I wouldn't mind a date with Heather Mansfield!" he quipped as he told a small group of admirers that Cal was late for class.

"Heather Mansfield? Are you crazy? Just last year she told you how lucky you were to have me walk next to you so you could be the best looking guy in a group for a few minutes at a time. You want to go out with her?" I said with no small amount of incredulity.

"I guess not. But man, she's got some great boobs!" Glen said as he laughed his goofy laugh.

"I'm tellin' your bishop, Dude. You can't talk like that."

"Speaking of church, I'm giving a talk on Sunday. You wanna come listen?"

"Talks" were the Mormon version of sermons but without the hellfire and brimstone. Each week, different members of the congregation (a "ward" in Mormon speak) would give a short talk on a topic of their choosing. I didn't like church and didn't even believe in God but I went a couple of times a year just to support my best friend.

"Yeah. Sure. I'll tag along. Just don't be too long-winded, okay?"

Glen let out that laugh of his again. "No worries. You know talks rarely last more than 15 minutes and mine don't go over five."

As I pulled into the church parking lot I began looking around for women wearing the kind of stuff I like. Oh, yeah. I forgot to mention I have a fetish. I've got thing—actually a huge thing—for dressy, form-fitting sweaters. Not the baggy, granny type or the hideous Christmas sweater but pretty much anything that's sexy and shows off a woman's curves has my full attention. Don't get me wrong. I like dresses, lingerie, high heels, and that kind of stuff. God knows I've whacked off using scantily-clad lingerie models more times than I can count. But nothing "does it" for me like a sexy knit top. If it has a ribbed look to it, it gets extra points. And growing up near Seattle, it was definitely a target-rich environment.

My theory on fetishes is that we have certain periods of heightened sexual awareness. In those moments, something can sort of "imprint" itself and that image is seared into our brains. That's just my personal belief with no empirical data to support it, but I can remember seeing this beautiful blonde at a baseball game in a long-sleeved, white, rib-knit sweater. I couldn't stop staring and must have jerked off to that image a hundred times. Regardless of how fetishes are developed, they do. Not to was overly philosophical here but please allow me to scientifically sum it up like this: It is what it is. 

I met Glen in the foyer. He was an usher and would be performing his duties soon. For now, we were just quietly talking as folks were filing in and out of the chapel. Just then I noticed his mom talking to someone I thought I recognized.

"Glen," I said interrupting him mid-sentence. "Who's that talking to your mom?"

Glen turned around, took a step to the side so he could get a better look and said, "Oh, that's Karen Moreland. She just graduated from BYU with her masters in some kind of science and she had a really great job offer in LA or something like that. Mom said she came back home to take care of her own mother because her dad just passed away from cancer a few months back and her mom's having a really hard time dealing with it."

Unaware I was staring, I mumbled, "Man! She is really pretty." And to myself I added, "And I want to everything her in that sweater!" It was a lot like the one my baseball girl wore. White, long-sleeved, with the ribbed look I loved and it absolutely showcased her fantastic boobs and hot body. The black skirt she wore with it was a little too long for my taste, but all Mormon girls wore skirts that were less than an inch above the knee and I told myself I could live with that. I admired what I could see of her shapely legs sticking out of the black heels she was wearing and only then did I see her staring back at me. Her stare distracted Glen's mom and I heard her say loudly enough for my benefit, "Oh, that's Glen's friend, Cal. He's here visiting today." She motioned for us to come over when I felt the first tinges of that familiar warmth rising up my neck and the first traces of sweat on the palms of my hands.

"Please, God. Don't let me turn red. Not this time. Not in front of her." It seemed silly to pray to someone I didn't believe but I convinced myself it couldn't hurt.

Mrs. Hairston met us and said, "Karen, you know my son, Glen. He's a senior this year!" They both shook hands. "And this is Cal, Glen's best friend since elementary school. If Glen was back from his mission, I'd be trying to fix you two up!" Karen seemed unfazed by the notion of being paired up with someone who was at least four integers below hers. She was easily a nine and Glen was perhaps a five on his best day. She was probably just being polite but since I understood next to nothing about women, I just let it pass. 

Mrs. Hairston then announced, "Cal, this is Karen, who's a recent graduate of Brigham Young University. She majored in chemical engineering then went on to get her M.S. and now she's looking to earn her M.R.S. degree." Everyone but me laughed. Mrs. Hairston saw my puzzled look and explained. "Oh, sorry. That's a common saying among Latter-day Saints. Since marriage is the single most important thing for us, becoming a "misses" or "Mrs" is a very big deal. Karen seems to be taking a very long time getting hers." 

I could see Karen was now a bit uncomfortable as she said, "It's not for lack of trying, Sister Hairston. I've met some decent guys, just not the right one yet." I couldn't be sure but I had that feeling her next comment was directed at me when she added, "Maybe I've been looking for love in all the wrong places?"

I felt the redness creep up into my cheeks but nothing too severe at this point as Karen extended her right hand to me and said, "Hi, Cal. It's a pleasure to meet you." Mormons are real hand shakers so it wasn't unusual for a woman to offer hers first. I wanted to wipe mine off before she touched it but I didn't have a chance. I'm sure she noticed the perspiration but didn't say anything about it or about my earlier staring and thankfully, not a word about my rosy cheeks.

"Cal, did you know Karen used to babysit Glen?" Mrs. Hairston bubbled. Now it was Glen's turn to feel the heat. That's when I realized where I'd seen her. She'd also kept an eye on me when I visiting at Glen's house one weekend. I wondered if she even remembered the chubby kid with the bucked teeth. God, I hoped not!

"Mom. Sheesh. That was a long time ago," Glen countered.

"Oh, nonsense, sweetheart! It couldn't have been that long ago. Karen's still a young girl herself after all." 

Karen accepted the off-handed compliment quite well and said, "Thank you Sister Hairston. I am almost 28, but I suppose that's still young by some standards." I realized that time had different meanings to people of different ages as I caught myself staring at Karen again. Or more accurately, at her two beautiful sweater puppets.

Karen just smiled when I realized she knew I was unaware that she was aware of my fixed gaze. She pretended to glance down at her chest and said with a smile, "Oh, good. I thought maybe I'd spilled some food there or something." 

I didn't turn crimson, but I could feel that redness spreading across that old familiar landscape. I excused myself and turned toward the chapel when I felt a hand slide in to hook my arm. "I'm really sorry, Cal. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I was actually very flattered. Please don't feel bad, okay? I'm guessing most girls would hope you'd, you know, look at them like that. I'm a Mormon girl but I'm also human." Before I could respond she said to Glen who was now watching the chapel doors, "Would you guys mind if I sit with you today? I've been gone almost eight years and I feel like I hardly know anyone. My mom isn't feeling well today and I really don't want to sit alone."

Glen looked at me and saw how her arm was hooked under mine and said, "Sure. That'd be great. I'll join you in a few minutes."

As we sat down, Karen slid in first and as I sat next to her she said, "We're having a church dance here next weekend. I love to dance and as I said I don't really know anyone here anymore..." She trailed off as a guy about her age walked past with his wife and two young children. "Well, that is I don't know anyone who isn't already married. So if you're interested could we maybe go together if it's not too weird hanging out with someone you know, my age?" She wasn't as beautiful as Mrs. Bentley whom I gave a perfect "ten" but Karen was indeed very good looking and I was discovering I liked older girls. In fact, it was becoming clear I really liked women who were older than me.

I finally got up the nerve to look at her just as I was feeling the urge to blush was finally getting under control. She was stunningly beautiful. Deep blue eyes and very dark brown hair parted on the side and that was about shoulder length with a single, soft wave in it. I could now smell her perfume, too, and as our eyes met, she smiled at me the way so many other girls had recently done. For the first time I felt a small surge of confidence as I told her, "Sure. I'd like that—very much." She reached out and briefly took my hand in hers and said, "Wonderful! Pick me up at 8 o'clock? Give me your cell phone and I'll type in my number. I'll text you the address."

I didn't hear a word that was said during the entire hour we were inside. I had no earthly idea what the topic of Glen's talk was and I hoped it wouldn't come up. Afterwards, Karen walked outside with me and she said, "I know it's the 21st century but we Mormons are really traditional. I've never asked a guy out before and now I'm wondering if maybe you only said 'yes' because you felt pressured. I know I'm a lot older than you and it would probably be really embarrassing to show up with..."

I stopped her in mid-sentence. "Embarrassed? Are you kidding? I'd be honored to be with you. It's you who'll probably feel kind of silly when you finally realize you're out with a high-school kid."

Karen put her hand on my forearm. "I can promise you that won't be the case. You don't look like any kid I've ever seen and honestly, if you're over 18, age doesn't matter to me. All I care about is whether a guy will be treat me well so I don't care if you're 18 or 38. And...it doesn't hurt if the guy is really hot, either." 

The smile that accompanied her final comment just about did me in but I kept it together and smiled back saying, "Okay. It's a date. I'll pick you up Saturday at 8 o'clock. Oh, before I forget, what does one wear to a Mormon church dance?" I asked her.

"Oh, right! I completely forgot you're not a member of the Church. Coat and tie is the norm for guys, and since you brought it up, is there anything in particular you'd like me to wear?"

I knew I should just say, "Whatever you like is fine," but my fetish was rearing its ugly head in a very big way. Instead I told Karen, "Honestly, I'm a very big fan of what you're wearing today. I wanted to say this earlier but it just didn't seem appropriate until now. You look amazing, Karen. So something like that maybe?"

"Thank you, Cal! How sweet is that? And it's a deal. Skirt and sweater it is! See you Saturday!"

I looked up and said to myself, "Thank you, God!" I was still an atheist, but if these kinds of prayers could be so easily answered...

Chapter 3

The week drug on for what seemed like an eternity. What caught my attention was the way girls were no longer queued up to say "hi" to me but were now turning their backs as I walked by preceded by noses being raised and heads flipped back. A couple of times I clearly heard, "He is SO stuck up!" When the bell rang, I heard something similar from two girls in my organic chemistry class followed by a lot of giggling accompanied by some quiet mocking consisting of, "My name isn't Calvin, bitch! Don't you know anything?" 

That final comment came on the way out of Mrs. Bentley's class on Thursday afternoon. She heard it as clearly as I did and motioned for me to stay after class. As the last kids filed out, she closed the door and said, "Looks like being the best looking guy in school comes with a price if you don't choose one of your ladies in waiting. You okay with all this, Cal?"

"Sure. It's okay. I get it. Well, kind of. I mean if I started dating Heather or someone else, then the other girls would accept that and leave me alone. But by 'rebuffing' all of them, I must be stuck up. I even heard some guys saying I must be gay yesterday."

"Are you?" Mrs. Bentley asked. She hurriedly added, "Sorry. That's none of my business. I just meant..."

"No, I'm not gay. In fact, I finally have my first date this weekend and it's most definitely with a girl."

"That's amazing, Cal! Who's the lucky girl? Do I know her by any chance?"

"Oh, no. She's been away at college for several years so..."

"A college girl? My, my! So that's why you're breaking all these high-school hearts! Now it makes sense. You like 'older women', huh?" 

Mrs. Bentley was just playfully teasing me. That much was clear. What she didn't know is how much I wanted her to be my date this weekend, but I'd ploughed that ground enough to know there was nothing growing there. It was fallow ground for sure.

"I guess so. In fact, I sort of just figured that out. I said 'yes' to Karen's invitation but there's another girl, er, woman, I've wanted to ask out for quite a while but I know I don't have a chance with her. Besides, she's already kind of spoken for." I looked away as I finished speaking as I both hoped and feared she might know I was talking about her.

"Cal? Do you remember me telling you that you could have any girl you want? If you haven't asked her how do you know she won't say yes? Relationships are often complicated and aren't always what they seem. She could possibly be ready for someone new but maybe that someone hasn't come along and let it be known he's interested. Try dropping a subtle hint and see how it goes. What's the worst that can happen?"

"It's just really complicated, Mrs. Bentley. If there was any way I thought I could compete with the guy she's with I'd ask her but she's in a, well, committed relationship and from what I can tell, it seems like she's really happy."

"Cal, I'm not going to go into any detail here but I can tell you from personal experience that many times a woman is deeply unhappy but stays with someone for a variety of reasons. That doesn't mean she's happy and it definitely doesn't mean she can't be persuaded. It just means she might need to see the grass really might be greener on the other side or at least no less brown than it is with the other guy. Let her know. See what happens, okay? And you still haven't told me who the lucky girl is!"

"She's a girl I met at Glen's church this weekend. Her name is Karen and she just finished a master's program in organic chemistry at BYU."

"Are you a Mormon too, Cal?" Mrs. Bentley asked with a serious look.

"No. I don't go to any church. I just went with Glen because he was giving a short sermon kind of thing and his mom introduced me to Karen."

"BYU? Karen? Would that be Karen Moreland by any chance?"

The look of genuine surprise was all over my face. "You know her, Mrs. Bentley?"

"I do. She was my student about, oh let me see, maybe ten years ago or so. Beautiful girl. I see why you like her. And smart, too. She was one of the best chemistry students I ever had. Then again, you're every bit as good as she was, Cal. I think you'll have a lot in common in spite of the difference in age. So where are you taking her on your first-ever date if you don't mind me asking?"

"We're going to a dance at her church this Saturday. I've never been to a dance of any kind let alone one where I have to wear a tie, so I'm a little nervous about not embarrassing her or myself. But then, I've never been on a date, either, for that matter so I guess I'll just have to learn as I go." 

"In addition to being the school's AP advisor I also teach dance club after school during the winter. If you'd like a fast-and-furious beginner's lesson, I'd be happy to offer my services!"

My mind was suddenly reeling at the thought. Me dancing with Mrs. Bentley? I was already jerking off every day and sometimes twice a day thinking about her, and now I had the opportunity to hold the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen in my arms. Fuck me!! 

But that same old voice inside my head wouldn't let me accept her offer. Instead of saying "yes" and thanking her I said, "Oh, I have a lot of homework to do and I mean, I'm sure you're really busy and stuff so..."

Mrs. Bentley let out a rather loud "hah!" and feigned a laugh. "Too busy? Hardly. Other work, my life is pretty much empty now that my son just ran off and joined the damn Navy. I almost dread heading home to an empty house every evening. So no, I'm definitely not too busy. But if you have that much homework, then, I guess you just do."

I felt sick to my stomach. I was sure she knew I was just making an excuse but I couldn't bring myself to tell her how I felt. Instead, I just avoided the subject and said, "I didn't know Brandon enlisted. He just graduated in June, right?"

"That's right. He said he had no interest in going to college and his father told him he'd have to get a job and pay rent if he didn't go to school. So he went straight to the nearest recruiter and signed up. He just left for boot camp last week." She almost hissed when she said the words "his father" as though she was talking about someone she didn't much like let alone love and live with.

It looked as if Mrs. Bentley might be tearing up and I had no idea what to say to comfort her. Like the clueless kid I was, I simply blurted out, "But you still have your husband so it's not like you're all alone, right?"




Making the Grade Ch. 01



Mrs. Bentley looked down for a moment then said almost icily, "As I said, Cal, things aren't always as they appear." She looked back up at me and it was as though that brief moment of anger hadn't even happened. She smiled and said cheerfully, "But you don't need to hear about my personal life. You have a date with a beautiful girl this weekend and I'm taking up way too much of your time." She paused for a moment before adding, "It's just that you're so easy to talk to, Cal." Another pause followed by another dazzling smile. "Are you sure you're really 18 rather than going on 30? Thirty would make a lot more sense to me," she teased.

"I'm actually 18 and a half now," I said awkwardly as perhaps some kind of justification for apparent, perceived maturity.

Mrs. Bentley covered her mouth as she laughed out loud. "Eighteen and a half. Oh, okay. That explains it." I knew she wasn't being mean but I'm not sure she knew I understood it was just mild teasing. "You're such a good, decent, sweet boy, Cal. Sorry. You're hardly a boy anymore. 'Young man' is what I meant to say. Karen is a very lucky gir—young lady. Just relax. You'll do fine. Dancing isn't really dancing anymore anyway. It's just kind of holding on to one another and moving around the floor." There was a much longer pause this time before Mrs. Bentley looked right at me and said, "Can you save one dance for me?" she asked rather playfully. She laughed as she spoke.

I laughed, too. "Of course I will. Like the song says, I'll save the last dance for you! But you'll have to show up in order to collect." No it was my turn to pause momentarily. I picked up my books and said, "Thanks for the all the advice, Mrs. Bentley. You're awesome!"

"Awesome? Thank you, Cal. Right about now, that sounds pretty darned good. I'll take it. For what it's worth, I think you're pretty 'awesome', too. Have fun Saturday and tell Karen I said 'hello', will you?"

"Will do!" I hollered over my shoulder as I left the classroom.

I didn't own a suit or even a sports coat and I had to borrow a tie from my dad, but with my mom's help I managed to put together what I hoped what would an acceptable look. I wore black pants, a gray, button-down shirt, a blue tie and my new black leather jacket. I was trying not to stress but I had no idea what to even talk about with a girl...no, a woman, like Karen. That, plus the fact I didn't know how to dance, made the possibility of disaster loom large in my virgin eyes.

My fears temporarily dissipated when I rang the doorbell and Karen's mom invited me in. "Oh, my! Don't you look handsome, Cal. I love the jacket. It's very—well—you!"

I wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing but I smiled and thanked her regardless. After a couple minutes of small talk, Karen came downstairs and I was speechless. She looked absolutely, freaking amazing! Her hair was soft and shiny and as smooth as silk. Her pretty face was stunningly beautiful, and she was wearing this gorgeous charcoal gray, long-sleeved, rib-knit sweater with a black pencil skirt, black stockings, and black, three-inch heels. A matching silver necklace and earrings completed what was to me a perfect look.

"Oh, my God! You look absolutely incredible!" I said enthusiastically.

I had no idea why but Karen's mother winced and had a look of pain on her face—even more than the painful look she carried the rest of the time. Karen was now standing directly in front of me and said, "Thank you for the compliment, Cal. You look great, too." She glance over at her mother than back at me. She said very quietly and almost apologetically, "We Mormons don't say 'OMG' but you had no way of knowing that so it's no big deal. Really." The look on her mom's face said otherwise but Karen's explanation was enough for me.

I probably should have known better from hanging out with Glen all these years, but Karen looked so much like my ultimate fantasy girl that my little head was definitely doing all of the thinking and talking for me. "Sorry, Mrs. Moreland."

"I understand, Cal. As Karen said, it's alright. You kids have fun tonight, okay?" Mrs. Moreland seemed to have a perpetually sad look about her and as usual, I felt at a loss to say anything. I thought it best to leave well enough alone rather than open my mouth and as they say, remove all doubt.

In the car, Karen said, "My mom is really having a hard time coping with my dad's death. But then, so am I for that matter, but for very different reasons. In Mom's case, dad was her life for 30 years. They were best friends and proverbial soul mates. Mormons believe in eternal marriage so she strongly believes they'll be together again one day but for now, she's just completely lost. That's why I came back home rather than take a job after finishing my PhD."

"Thanks for sharing that. Your mom just looks SO sad all of the time. That explains a lot, Karen. I appreciate you telling me. You said something about having troubles coping with losing you dad but for different reasons. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes and no," Karen began. "I don't want to get into a deep, heavy philosophical discussion on a first date, but I also want to tell you what I'm feeling."

"Feel free to say as much or as little as you like. As you may have already noticed, I have a real knack for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, but I've been told I'm a pretty good listener."

"You're so sweet, Cal. By way of full disclosure, I know about this 'transition' you've gone through and that explains why you might not feel ummm, 'polished' in some social situations. Don't worry. You're doing just fine and it'll come with time." It was a relief to know Karen understood what most would perceive as social awkwardness. Guys like Jason never had to worry about such things. They'd been around beautiful girls and had their approval for years so were very adept at knowing what to say and perhaps more importantly, what not to say.

Karen continued explaining. "As to my dad's death, I'll just say that I've found myself wondering for the first time if there's even a God, you know? I mean, Mormons pray about everything and the Bible says if we shall ask anything in Jesus's name he will do it. I've prayed for silly things like for our football team to win at state or for some particular thing I really wanted. If it happened or I got that thing, I gave thanks to Heavenly Father. If it didn't, I just chalked it up to Him not wanting me to have it. You know, 'His ways are higher than ours' and all that. But praying for my dad to recover was the first time I ever prayed for something I really needed. And this made no sense to me. He never smoked a cigarette in his life but he got lung cancer anyway and died within 24 months! What kind of God repays sincere prayers with that kind of result? It seems much more likely that the reason he died had nothing to do with a Divine Being failing to rescue him but with the scientific fact that the spread of the cancer just overwhelmed his immune system. Since his death, I've been sad, I've been angry, and then numb. And now I'm just—well, I'm not really sure. I guess the word is 'perplexed.' I can't shake this feeling that I've been duped and engaging in self-deception my whole adult life. I can see believing in angels and gold plates and Gods and Goddess as a child but I'm a grown woman. And I'm a scientist! I'm a rational person. I demand evidence in every area of my life except when it comes to the Church. I used to think that even there I was basing my beliefs on solid, rational evidence but what evidence is there that Someone is 'up there' hearing and answering—or not—our prayers? Now it seems like it's all a bunch of made-up nonsense. Does that make any sense to you at all, Cal?"

"It does," I assured her. "But I've been an atheist for as long as I've been aware of the issue of God so I may not be the most objective source. I'm not an angry anti-theist wanting to take away the baby Jesus from the town square or anything. I just don't see any evidence for God or any 'god' for that matter. It all seems like something man invented to explain what was previously unexplainable."

"I know!" Karen said animatedly. "At BYU, virtually everyone is LDS so even in science departments there's no doubting the 'fact' that the Church is true—which is Mormon-speak for things like 'God exists', etc., let alone a crisis of faith. But for me, it's as though a veil has been lifted from eyes and there's a whole new and exciting world out there waiting to be explored. And I don't mean just in a chemistry lab." 

Karen looked down in a rather shy way and then directly at me. As she finished that last sentence, she reached her left hand out and took my right hand in it. "And I wouldn't mind starting this exploration with you, Cal. That is, if you think I might be the right girl to do the exploring with."

Before I could respond she added hastily, "I know I'm 10 years older than you but I have to tell you, I'm not only still a virgin, I've only been to 'second base' one time and that was in high school. Because of the influence of the Mormon Church, the guilt I felt from letting a guy feel me up was so overwhelming I avoided boys for an entire year after that. I'm really tired of avoiding boys—or in your case, handsome young men—so if you want, you can teach me things I don't know anything about."

I felt her hand squeeze mine tightly as I also felt Sheriff Woody rising to the occasion. I somehow managed not to laugh at her assumption that I was experienced in "the ways of the world." I just said to her, "Karen. This transformation thing you mentioned? That's very real. And very new. It's so real and so recent I've never even...I've never yet been on...I mean, this is the very first date I've ever had in my life. Just six months ago, girls wouldn't even acknowledge my existence unless it was to mock me for my bucked teeth or some other physical flaw. So I'm afraid I can't really teach you anything."

Karen also managed not to laugh. "I see," she said matter-of-factly. "First let me say it seems unimaginable that you were unattractive let alone so much so led to that kind of treatment. You might just be the most attractive guy I've ever met and trust me, I've seen some gorgeous guys on campus over the years. You are really hot. Second, it seems to me then that we have a dilemma on our hands. We have a clear case of the blind leading the blind here. Since neither one of us can see, I propose we try closing our eyes and well, just kind of feeling our way through this. What do you think?"

As she said the word "feel" she released my hand and slid it over onto my thigh and for the briefest of moments, toward my crotch. Her hand soon ran into my cock which had snaked its way a good eight inches down the right leg of my pants. She obviously wasn't aware of just what she was caressing as her hands slid along its length until she suddenly recoiled as though she'd just been snake bit.

"I'm so sorry, Cal. I had no idea. You see, I'm absolutely no good at this stuff." 

My first instinct was to apologize profusely but Karen burst out laughing which, in turn, caused me to do the same!

Karen spoke first. "Well! I have to admit that was a surprise. And while I have nothing to compare it with, my sense was that it was a rather, ummm, big surprise! I wasn't aware of just what I was 'up against' at first and once it hit me, it kind of freaked me out. But that's only because I've never touched a...you know, a penis before. Jeez. I feel like I'm 16! No. I feel like I'm a 28-year old Mormon girl who's wasted years of year life living in fear of judgment and condemnation." Karen sat silently for a moment just staring out of the windshield. Then she boldly proclaimed, "All of a sudden I want to say something so I'm going to say it. 'Fuck that!' Karen put her hand over her mouth, laughed again, and said, "Oh my God! Did I just say 'fuck'? Did I just say 'oh my God', too?"

I was still laughing when I said, "Uh. Yes you did. And you also said 'OMG' without abbreviating it. I have to say it was kind of a turn on and speaking of turn ons, I wouldn't mind looking deeper into that hypothesis of yours about 'feeling' our way through this later tonight. I would love to join the expedition."

Just then we pulled up to a stop light that had just turned red. I leaned over toward Karen and her open mouth was there waiting for me as hers met mine. I had so many new emotions simultaneously flooding over me I couldn't sort them out. Her breath was sweet. Her lips were full and soft. Her tongue was...deep in my mouth and her hand back on my rock-hard dick. Before the light turned green, I felt that familiar loss of control as a monster load of cum shot into my underwear. Karen would have assumed the changing light was responsible for my sudden break of this first kiss but I knew better. 

"Oh my fucking God!" I thought to myself. "I just creamed my fucking pants in the middle of the fucking road during my first fucking kiss! What a fucking loser!" I was panicked at the thought she would immediately know before I realized it was already dark outside and my pants were black. Most of all, it was likely she'd never experienced a guy cumming let alone at her hand (as it were.) If I was lucky, I might be able to clean this mess up without leaving a huge wet stain in exactly the worst of all places. But my GOD was that worth it! I couldn't even imagine what kind of experiences further explorations might bring but I was now ready, willing, and able to find out.

The church parking lot was just two blocks away and as soon as we entered the building I excused myself and headed straight into the men's restroom. Thankfully, the mess was still largely confined to my underwear and I was able to take care of what could have been a disaster.

When I exited the restroom, I looked for Karen. What I saw nearly blew my mind. As I walked toward her, there was Mrs. Bentley talking with Karen like old friends!

As I neared the duo of beautiful woman, Karen called out, "Cal! Look who's here tonight. It's Sister Bentley, my former chemistry teacher! We were just catching up. I hadn't seen her since my last visit home and this was a really great surprise."

"I heard we needed another chaperone for the dance so when the bishop's wife called me I told her I'd be glad to help out—especially since Cal mentioned he was taking my favorite former student as his date!" Mrs./Sister Bentley said excitedly. "Both of you look so amazing. You make a very cute couple. Are you going to have your picture taken? There's a booth right over there."

"Let's do it, Cal!" Karen said. "Let's get our picture taken, okay?"

Still stunned from seeing Mrs. Bentley here and most of all hearing her referred to as "Sister" Bentley, I was unable to do more than nod my head in agreement and say, "Yeah. Sure. Sounds great."

"Isn't it great to see her, Cal?" Karen asked as we stood in line. She gave me that look that said "I want to whisper something in your ear but be cool about it" so I sort of leaned my ear toward her mouth. "My mom said she hasn't been to church for months. I guess her husband was cheating on her with someone from his work because he was excommunicated this summer which, for Mormons, is a fate worse than death. I really feel sorry for her and I guess that's why I'm so happy to see her here tonight. Well, that and the fact that she was my favorite teacher."

I was also happy to see her but for very different reasons. "Things aren't always as they appear, Cal." Suddenly that made a lot of sense.

Chapter 4

We had our picture taken together then went into the gym area which was set up for the dance. I caught site of Glen who was up on stage serving as the DJ. I couldn't help but feel bad for him because there he was in his church watching me go on my first date when we was still waiting to go on his. He waved to me then gave me a thumbs up signal as he motioned for me to ask Karen to dance. The song that was playing ended and Glen spun the next record. Okay, he hit "play" on the CD player but still... 

I heard a voice familiar to me from my parents' music collection as the words to "You've Lost That Loving Feeling" boomed out through the large speakers on stage. I turned toward Karen and before I could ask she said, "Yes!"

Mrs. Bentley was right. I didn't have to know how to dance. We just held each other close and kind of drifted around the floor. Karen stood on her tiptoes and whispered in my ear, "I should tell you that at church dances we're supposed to keep daylight between our bodies when we slow dance but I won't say anything if we don't."

I noticed there was a tiny amount of distance between us and replied, "Looks like we're in compliance."

Karen pulled herself closer to me and whispered to me, "Fuck compliance. I want to feel your cock again." At the same time she pushed her body hard into mine and she found what she was "looking" for with her body. I could feel her grinding against my erection but doing so in a way that wouldn't attract attention and I heard her gasp in my ear. "Mmmm. That feels so nice. I want to continue our investigation in that parcel of land later. Do I need a permit?" she teased as she pressed herself up and down against my rock hard shaft.

"That won't be necessary. The entire area will be made available to you upon verbal request."

"I like the sound of that. I love feeling like I'm doing something forbidden and I'm glad I'm doing it with you, Cal."

I managed not to fire another salvo of semen and was concerned about whether or not I'd ever learn how to "hold fire" as it were. "One thing at a time" was my motto for the night and for the foreseeable future. We danced several more times when I heard Glen's voice. "Ladies, this one is your choice!"

Expecting Karen to ask me to dance, I was surprised to see her talking with "Sister" Bentley. The music was loud but I could hear Karen say, "Oh, sure! You go right ahead."

Mrs. Bentley walked up to me and leaned toward me so I could hear her. "I have your date's permission to ask you to dance. So, would you care to dance with me, Cal?" I could see Karen mouthing the words "say yes" over and over. I didn't need any extra encouragement, but I was glad to know Karen was okay with this. But why wouldn't she be? She had no idea I had the hugest crush on Laura Bentley. To her, this was just a harmless older woman and former teacher going through a rough time dancing with a young guy at a church event.

"I'd be honored to dance with you!" I said as I extended my hand. She took it and I led her onto the dance floor. It was another oldie but I didn't know the name of this one. Mrs. Bentley did clearly did.

"I love this song. It's so romantic and filled with so much meaning. Do you like it?"

If I'd ever heard it I had no idea where or when. I was afraid to tell her the truth and settled for a half truth. "It's really nice," I told her. My head was swimming from simply holding the woman of my dreams in my arms. I was trying to take everything in when for some reason I was thinking about the distance rule. I noticed there was almost a foot between us and we looked like a couple on "Dancing With the Stars." It seemed like the Grand Canyon to me and I wanted to be closer to her so bad I could taste it but the rules were the rules and Mrs. Bentley was a beautiful, refined, and elegant lady. So fat chance of that. About a minute later, I felt her move in closer. A few seconds later, there was almost no space between our bodies and her cheek was next to mine.

"You see, dancing isn't all that hard, is it?" she said to me. "Are you having a good time with Karen?"

"I am. It's been very nice." I hesitated for a moment and then I decided to pull her even closer to me even though I didn't know if she would resist. She didn't. She even took her hand out of mine and put her arms around my neck. I knew the song would be ending very soon and I had to somehow tell her how I felt about her so I made up my mind to at least try and convey my feelings. 




Making the Grade Ch. 01



Just then I noticed her body was very close to mine. That notification came in the form of Mrs. Bentley pressing up against my ever-present hard on. Petrified, I recoiled instinctively. "I am SO sorry, Mrs. Bentley."

She seemed unfazed and pulled me back in close. "Don't apologize. That's very normal for a guy your age, Cal. Please don't be embarrassed." She paused for a second then said softly, "It was rather nice. I'm actually very flattered. So—good time? Yes, no, maybe?"

I was truly grateful for her understanding and a bit confused by what she said. I decided to leave well enough alone and just respond to her question. "I'm having a nice enough time, I suppose, but...well, truthfully? I still can't stop wishing I was here with the person I told you is unavailable."

She moved her head in order to make eye contact. "Have you told her how you feel yet, Cal? If you don't, you'll never know if she feels the same way."

"No, I haven't. It's just that... Well, you see... It's complicated."

"Cal, life is complicated. Sometimes we have to take risks if we expect to get rewards. Just let her know. If she really is unavailable and as nice as you say, she'll find a way to let you down gently. But if you're wrong, she may be as glad you told her as you'll be you finally let her know."

"The thing is, Mrs. Bentley," I began. "The thing is—she's married."

Mrs. Bentley's eyebrows rose slightly as though the surprise wasn't actually a surprise. "Oh. I see. Well, that is complicated. Now I understand why this is so hard for you, Cal. Sorry, I mean difficult." I may have imagined it but I was almost certain she'd pressed back against my erection as she said the word "hard." Again, I pretended or least felt I was pretending to ignore what I was sure but not positive, just happened again.

The last notes of the song were playing. Now it was my turn to look into her eyes. "You see, the problem is even more difficult because this married woman I have feelings for is... well ...she's also my teacher."

I had no idea what she might be thinking. Her face was expressionless but her eyes stayed locked with mine until the last note ended. She let her hand run down the length of my arm, briefly touching my own hand as she said, "Thank you for the dance, Cal. That was very nice. It's been a very long time since any man has held me in his arms. Karen is a very lucky girl." I intended on walking her back to the side of the gym floor where Karen had been standing, but she abruptly turned and headed toward the exit door. I didn't see her again the rest of the evening, but I was glad to see Karen had asked Glen to dance. Chalk one up to charity. Glen would be reliving this moment for quite some time I was sure.

The dance ended at 11pm and we said our goodbyes and thank yous to Glen. Once we got in the car, Karen put her hand on mine and said quietly, "I want to go parking, Cal. Will you take me? That's another thing I've never done and I don't want any more time to pass wasting it on false beliefs and misplaced faith. This is real and I want this. I want to have a LOT of first experiences tonight and going parking is now at the top of my list."

I drove quite a few miles toward Chinook Pass which headed to Mt. Ranier. I exited the highway and turned onto a secluded place in the woods owned by the Weyerhauser Lumber Company. I drove along a logging road into a quiet little niche in the middle of nowhere. It was chilly outside but not all that cold for western Washington this time of year.

Once I turned off the engine, Karen spoke. "Before we get into the back seat, I need to tell you that in spite of my bravado, I don't think I'm ready to 'go all the way' tonight. You know, after all my building this up and everything? I mean, I think I'm ready but until I'm absolutely sure, I want to leave at least one 'first' on the proverbial table. Is that okay?"

"Of course it is, Karen. I don't even have protection with me so that's probably a really good idea. I'm not exactly used to having to think about that sort of thing."

"You should be," Karen said softly. "You are SO hot it's incredible. I've had this crazy-mad crush on you since I first saw you. Speaking of 'crazy'... Am I? Is that crazy or what?"

"I don't think it's crazy at all. You're hot as hell and I can't believe my first date is with someone as beautiful as you."

Karen's smile was unbelievably and oh-so inviting. "Okay. That does it, Mister. Back seat. You. Me. Now!"

Our first kiss while "parking" was definitely of the French variety. It was long and deep and very wet. Only moments into it, Karen pushed my left hand down onto her right breast and said, "I need that so bad."

I'd never touched a boob before but I'd watched enough on-line porn to know what to do. I just had no idea how soft they actually were. I gently cupped then squeezed and hoped it felt as good to her as it did to me. Judging by the moans Karen was making, I must have been doing something right. "Oh, my God that feels so incredibly good. Take off my bra, okay? I know you really like sweaters so we can leave it on if you want but I want my bra off now. Please?"

After a modest amount of fumbling around and with some help from Karen, her bra was off and lying on the floor of the car. Her sweater was pulled up above her gorgeous tits and I couldn't have been more turned on. She pulled my head down to her now bare breast and I took her large, hard nipple into my mouth. Using my tongue to swirl around the swollen nub, I took as much into my mouth as I could fit then sucked and licked again hoping I wasn't screwing this up too badly. I went back and forth between her gorgeous C-cup breasts which were now very wet and incredibly swollen.

"This is so amazing. I can't believe I waited so long to feel this good and I want more! And I want you to feel this good, too, Cal." I continued to suck on her beautiful boobs as she sighed and moaned while saying, "Okay. How about this? I'll keep my skirt on and you keep your shirt on. Okay? That way, we can keep this going without having to worry about sex."

I was unable to think clearly at this point. I managed to croak out, "Sounds great," as she pushed me off of her and reversed positions. Karen quickly unbuckled my belt then unbuttoned my pants, and slid the zipper down. I raised up slightly as she pulled the waistband down to my knees which exposed my massive hard on that was poking through the hole in my boxers. Karen reached out and wrapped her soft hand around as much of the shaft as she could see. "Mmmm. Yum! I was right! This really is a big surprise. I love it, honey! I want to see all of it, okay?"

I was so turned on I didn't even notice or care she'd just called me "honey." My boxers soon joined my pants below my knees as Karen again grabbed my cock as we once again French kissed. "Oh, fuck," I said. "That feels so fucking good."

"Mmmm. I love hearing you talk dirty," Karen whispered. "Don't fucking stop, okay?" Just then she broke our kiss and began lowering her head. "This should feel even better," Karen murmured. As her warm mouth began covering my stone-hard cock I moaned in pure ecstasy. I couldn't believe she had no experience at this as her soft, full lips slid down the length of my shaft. Her hand reached for my scrotum and slid under my ball sack. "You like that, sweetheart?" she said as my cock popped out of her mouth.

"Fuck, yes I like that. Jesus Christ! Don't stop! Suck my cock, baby." Somehow, I managed not to cum in her mouth after a full minute of oral pleasuring but I knew I was getting close. I pulled her head up gently by her hair and pushed her back in the seat. "Your turn," I told her.

"We can't have sex, honey. We can't. Okay? Promise me."

I didn't say a word as I slid my hand between her legs and began pushing hard on the material of her skirt and panties. "Oh, fuck that feels good," she groaned. I quickly unzipped her skirt and she lifted up her ass so I could slide it off.

Now the only thing between my fingers and her soaking wet pussy was her thin, black panties. I was already focusing on her clit and her breathing was growing harder and deeper.

"You're soaking wet. No gentleman would let his girlfriend wear wet clothes. We need to get these off of you immediately."

We were French kissing furiously as my fingers slid inside the waistband of her panties. "That does sound like the right thing to do, sweetheart," Karen said breathlessly. Again, she raised up and then the last physical barrier went down.

I plunged my middle finger inside her pussy as my thumb diddled her love button. As Karen gasped and moaned, I slide a second finger deep inside her. "Oh, shit! That feels so fucking good. Oh, God, that feels good, baby."

"My cock would feel even better."

"I know but we can't...do...that, honey. Just your fingers tonight, okay?"

"I won't put it inside you. I'll just massage your clit with it." As I said that I slid on top of her and grabbed my cock and pressed it onto her slippery pussy not waiting for her permission.

"Ohhh, my God! Oh, shit. Oh, God. Okay. But just that. Nothing more. Promise?"

Again, I didn't answer. I just kept running the tip of my cock up and down and around her swollen clit. "Isn't that better?" I said breathlessly.

"Mmmmm. Yessss! It feels so fucking amazing! Oh, God that feels good!"

"Say 'God damn' for me."

"What?" Karen asked.

"I want to hear you say it feels so 'God-damned' good. Say it. For me. Please."

"That's just so wrong. I can't say that. Anything else. Just not that. Okay, sweetheart? Oh, fuck! That feels so good."

"So 'God-damned' good. Say it. Another first. Blasphemy. Say it!" I stroked her cunt even harder until she was ready to explode.

Just as she began to shudder I heard her scream, "Oh fuck! That feels so...so...so damn good. O my God. It feels so...so...GOD-DAMN FUCKING GOOD! Oh, God-fucking dammit that feels good! FUCK!!"

I didn't stop. I also knew from my hours of porn watching that women could cum more than once and I just kept going. Karen was clearly ready for more so I asked her, "Baby? Am I getting all of your clit? Do I need to go further up or down?"

"You're doing great. I love when you do that. It feels amazing."

Undaunted, I let just the tip of my cock slip in before immediately sliding back up on her clit. "Was that better? Did that get all of your clit?"

Karen was moaning loudly and trembling again. "That was perfect, sweetheart. Just like that. But no sex, okay? Promise?"

I continued to ignore her pleas. Each time I slid my cock in just a tiny bit further. In turn, Karen would arch her back causing me to enter her even more deeply. Just one stroke, though. No "pumping." In and then quickly out. In deeper and then out. Just as I sensed she was ready to cum again, I knew I couldn't hold out any longer.

Finally, I couldn't hold back more than another stroke or two but before I pulled out, I shoved my cock in all the way to the hilt and on the way out said, "I'm gonna cum, baby. Can I cum on your pretty sweater?"

Karen was gasping for breath and didn't answer. She just pulled it down over her beautiful breasts and nodded in agreement. As I aimed my cock at her tits, she cried out, "Yessss!! Cum all over my sweater, sweetheart."

I did. Her gorgeous dark gray sweater was streaked with cum from top to bottom and side to side. Spent, we fell into one another's arms and kissed tenderly for several minutes.

"Now that was an amazing set of firsts. Wow. And we still have one thing left on that list."

It seemed that Karen was content to allow herself to believe that what we'd just done wasn't really sex. Deception was powerful and self-deception its strongest form. That was just fine with me as long as we could do that again and soon.

As I dropped her off at the house, we kissed goodbye. "Thank you for an amazing night, Cal. I can't imagine anyone else I'd rather share all of these firsts with." She hesitated for a moment then said, "Can I borrow your leather jacket? I need to um, well..." She pointed down at her cum-stained sweater and we both laughed. 

"I guess your mother doesn't need to see that now, does she?" I teased. I draped it over her shoulders and kissed her good night.

"Thank you again, honey," she said. I offered to get her door but she insisted on opening it herself. As she stepped out she looked back in and said, "Cal?"

"Yes?"

"I don't want to scare you or anything, but I think...I think I may be falling in love with you."

She didn't wait for a response. She just closed the door and I sat there in stunned silence as she walked up the sidewalk and into the house. I could just see her just inside as she opened the door and stepped in. 

I put the car in gear and headed home. "She's in love with me?" I thought to myself. "Oh, fuck."

Chapter 5

I wasn't sure whether or not to call Karen the next day which was Sunday and I damn sure wasn't going back to her church. I quickly fell asleep and the next sound I heard was my mom's voice calling to me from downstairs. "Cal? Are you awake? It's Karen."  

I looked at my alarm clock which said it was 10:08am. When I picked up, I heard Mom hang up. "Hello?" I said tentatively.

"Hi, Cal. It's Karen." Her voice sounded shaky and quite frankly, it scared me a little bit. I knew she couldn't be pregnant but something was obviously very wrong.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

There was silence and then I heard a sob. "Not really. I mean, I'm not hurt or anything. We just need to talk. Can you come over? My mom's at church and I really need to discuss something with you. Can we please talk? Please? I really need to see you."

"Okay, I'll be there in a few minutes. Just let me shower and change."

I dressed and headed out the door. "Is everything okay, honey?" Mom asked me.

"I guess so. She said she just really wants to talk so I'm headed over to her place."

"Okay. I hope everything's okay. See you later, honey." 

I drove in silence for the ten minutes or so took to get to her mom's place. She was waiting for me at the door as I approached the house. "Hi! Come in. I'm so glad you're here. Come in and sit down."

"This sounds ominous. What's going on?" I was almost afraid to ask because I knew from watching too many TV shows that "we need to talk" was almost always code for a pending break up.

"Oh, Cal. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault!"

"What's your fault? I don't understand."

"Last night. When you loaned me your jacket? You know how you draped it over my shoulders?"

"Yeah, sure. You needed to cover up the uh, 'mess.'"

"Exactly. But I didn't zip it up and when I opened the door my mom was standing there waiting for me. I'm 28 years old but she was still up, waiting for me, and worried sick because it was after 2am. Before I even closed the door behind me, she saw the...streaks...on my sweater and she just fell apart!"

"How do you mean she 'fell apart'? What happened exactly?"

Karen described the scene. "She just gasped and threw her hands over her mouth. The look of horror on face was unreal! Then she started crying and I couldn't get her to talk to me."

"This doesn't end well, does it?" I asked knowing the answer.

"That's an understatement. I don't know how long we sat in silence but finally she spoke. She told me I was killing her! She was sobbing and trying to explain what it was like losing a husband but losing her only child so soon after was worse than the death of her husband. I couldn't console her. No matter what I said she didn't want to hear it. She told me I had to see the Bishop today, confess my sins, and agree to never see you again or..."

"Or...what, Karen?"

"Or I would no longer be her daughter."

"Wow," I said shaking my head. "So what are you going to do? Do you even believe in your church anymore?"

"No. Not really. But I know there are Mormons who stay in the Church for family members even though they don't believe in it. There's even a website for support. So while I'm not sure there's even a God let alone that the angel Moroni showed Joseph Smith the golden plates, I do know I love my mother and that she really needs me."

"So how does that affect us?"

Karen slid over next to me and laid her head on my shoulder. "I meant what I said last night, Cal. When I was getting out of the car."

"That you love me?"

"Yes. And I do love you." Karen's serious tone suddenly turned upbeat. "You know, there is a way to solve this so we can still be together."

My inexperienced 18 (and a half)-year old brain couldn't connect the dots. The only possible solution I could envision involved sneaking around but what little experience I did have told me that was almost certainly not what Karen had in mind.

"So what are you thinking?" I asked.

"Well. If you feel the same way about me...We could, you know...get married."

I could feel the hopefulness in voice but I could also feel I did not share her enthusiasm for this "plan."

"Married? Karen, I'm only 18 and still in high school. I don't even have a job. How would we get by?"

Karen took my questions as a sign of possible agreement and she became very animated. "Oh, honey! Don't worry about money. I can get a job in any major city with any one of a dozen companies. With a PhD, I can easily make close to six figures a year and you can finish school while I'm getting established! We could move to Seattle and get an apartment or even buy our own home and start a family and..."

"Whoa! Hold on a minute, okay? You've been thinking about this since last night and I need time to process everything. I need some time to think."

"Of course, Cal! Take all the time you need. I'm just happy you didn't say 'no.' I really want to make you happy and after last night I think I can do that." Her hand moved to my chest and began sliding down toward my crotch. "In fact, I could make you very happy right now."

Mr. Happy was growing and I knew if I didn't leave right now he'd take over and I'd be in bed with Karen and might even end up saying 'yes' in a moment of passion. I didn't want to offend her, I just needed to go.

"I'd love to take you up on that but my head is really swimming right now. Would it be okay if I took a rain check on your offer?"

Karen was positively beaming now. "Of course it would! Just as long as you don't make me wait too long. I'm definitely ready to take that last 'first' off of the table with you, sweetheart. I loved how you loved me and made me feel last night." Karen put her mouth next to my ear and whispered in a husky, sexy voice, "I love you and I love everything about you. Especially that big, beautiful cock of yours and I want it in pussy as soon as possible. Okay?" Karen bit my earlobe as she finished speaking.

"That sounds amazing," I said. "Just let me have a few days to think this all through, okay?"

"Days?" Karen pretended to pout. "But I don't know if I can wait days. You got me all revved up last night and the motor is running now. Full speed. I'm not sure how long it can stand all this...tension and pressure. It needs...relief. You know, something to douse the flames. Something liquid would do the trick rather nicely I think."

My cock was now fighting for control but I managed to stand my ground. I turned to Karen and took her hand. "You're really amazing. I just have to try and wrap my head around all this. It's like drinking from a firehose."

"I'm tempted to joke about drinking from your firehose but I'll try and be serious for a moment. Take your time. Just think about all the good things and not just about being so young or still in school. Will you do that for me? Please?"

I promised her I would. I kissed her goodbye and headed for my car. By the time I started the engine, my "little head" and settled down and my big head was thinking more clearly. My mind was now reeling and I couldn't help thinking, "Married after my first freaking date? Are you shitting me? No fucking way, Jose." 




Making the Grade Ch. 01



As I drove off, I honestly had no idea what I might decide, but I knew I wasn't ready to marry anyone. Seriously? Get married? WTF?

Chapter 6

My mom wasn't the badgering type but I could tell she wanted information. I didn't feel like talking about this with her and I couldn't lie to her. Call me a "mamma's boy" if you like but I just couldn't lie to my mother.

"So is everything okay with you and Karen?" my mom asked nonchalantly as she informed me she'd made pancakes for me.

"Oh sure. It's great, Mom. She just wanted to tell me she had a really good time last night. At the dance. You know."

"Okay. Well, I'm glad you had a nice time together. I didn't realize church dances lasted past midnight."

I knew Mom was fishing because she knew there was more to the story than I was telling. "We talked for a while after. She's really smart. I can't believe she has a PhD in chemistry."

"So your grades should up in chemistry after all the time you two must have spent discussing molecules and covalent bonding," Mom teased. "Speaking of grades, your progress report says you have a B in organic chemistry. Most parents would be thrilled with a B but for you, that's not good. Is everything okay in Mrs. Bentley's class this year?"

"Everything's fine, Mom. But I've thinking about asking for some help. Things are getting a lot more complicated lately." I didn't add "outside of the classroom" but that was the source of my study woes.

"Well, I'm sure she'd be happy to help, honey. She's one of the best teachers you've ever had. You're lucky to have someone like her." My heart skipped a beat at the thought of actually "having" Mrs. Bentley.

"Yes, she is. And don't worry. I'll talk to her this week, okay?" 

I managed to steer clear of my mom the rest of the day and the subject didn't come up again before school Monday morning, and I was grateful for that. I left at 6:30 so I could get to the weight room before class. I really needed a good workout to take my mind off everything.

I tore it up in the gym which really helped with a lot of the frustration I was feeling. I was on my last set when Coach came by and said, "Benching 275. And ten reps on the last set. You can increase the weight next time, Cal. Keep it up. And hey, don't forget it's your turn to take out the trash today. Good work in here this morning." Taking out the trash was something Coach insisted was our responsibility, not the custodian's. It was no big deal. It was just that I'd just done a couple of extra sets and was running late. I didn't bother putting my shirt back on because I planned to toss the trash, hurry back, and shower before first period. I had the trash bag slung over my shoulder as I trotted toward the door. I flung it open, turned the corner, put my head down, and darted toward the back of the building. I heard, "Cal!" and looked up just in time to see Mrs. Bentley trying to jump out of my path. My shoulder brushed her arm as I instinctively tried to stop and move away from the voice.

"Sorry, Mrs. Bentley. I didn't expect to see anyone out here this early."

"No problem, Cal. I have duty in this section of campus all week. Watching for kids smoking or jumping the fence trying to escape. You know how the inmates are, right?" she teased. "You're in an awfully big hurry!" 

"I wasted too much time in the gym and I gotta get this to the dumpster," I explained.

"I probably shouldn't say this but judging by appearances it seems you didn't 'waste' any time. I knew lifting was a part of your 'transitional routine' but I had no idea it was this...effective." Mrs. Bentley had a knack for being able to offer a compliment that made you feel good while maintaining her class and dignity.

"Thank you. I have been working really hard at it. It was nice to know someone who matters to me noticed." Mrs. Bentley smiled and raised an eyebrow in that "careful, there Mister" kind of way but I could tell she wasn't upset by what I said. I sat the trash bag down and as I looked up, I noticed she still was staring at my chest. As soon as my eyes met hers, she looked away as though she'd been caught doing something wrong.

"Now it's my turn to apologize. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare. But yes, I definitely noticed. How could I not?" she said smiling. "So, how was that first date?"

I hesitated before speaking. "Well, honestly? Yes. I'm a little confused. No, I'm actually a whole LOT confuse. I could use some advice. And while I'm asking, I could really use some extra help with your organic class. The B on my mid-term didn't go over too well at home. So if you have some time later on that would be great."

Mrs. Bentley laughed softly. "Well, I think I can manage to fit you after school between grading papers and having nowhere in particular to go. Will that work for you?"

"That would be perfect. Thanks, Mrs. Bentley. I'll see you after 7th period in your room?"

"I'll look forward to it, Cal. And thank you again for the dance on Saturday. I enjoyed it very much."

"Me, too," I said sheepishly. I couldn't hold my gaze and lowered my eyes. Well, at least I didn't blush this time. "Okay, well, I better get this out and get in the shower or I'll be late to class. Bye, Mrs. Bentley."

"Bye, Cal. See you this afternoon."

I spent between 45 minutes to an hour with Mrs. Bentley each afternoon Monday through Thursday focusing strictly on chemistry and neither of us mentioned "the date" again. After tutoring ended on Thursday, I told her I thought I'd be ready for the test next Monday and suggested we skip Friday.

"I agree. You've got everything down pat again so I see no need for any tutoring on Friday. We never did discuss your other—concerns. Are they resolved now?"

Hardly. I'd avoided Karen all week using the tutoring and upcoming test but I knew I had to make a decision soon because she was relentless and this wasn't going to go away. I just wanted to go out with her, not marry her. No, I wanted to have sex with her but that seemed extremely unlikely unless I made a commitment I wasn't ready to make.

"No. The issue hasn't been resolved yet and I really don't know how to resolve it," I said.

"Well, I'd be happy to offer my opinion if you'd like to use tomorrow afternoon for that instead of chemistry."

"That sounds really great, Mrs. Bentley. I don't feel comfortable talking to my mom or dad about this so I really appreciate you being willing to talk with me."

"I'm happy to help out, Cal. You can discuss anything with me anytime, okay?"

When I got to her room the next day she took me aside and said, "I'm so sorry. I have two students who need help with chemistry after school and that has to take priority. I won't be able to chat with you."

My crestfallen look was all over my face. "Oh, that's okay. I understand. I'll just..."

"Cal, you didn't let me finish. That doesn't mean we can't discuss this, it just means I can't do it right after school. By the sound of things I have the impression you need to resolve this sooner rather than later. Am I right?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I should have already made a decision but it seems like there's no good way to deal with it so I've just been putting off and making excuses."

"All right. Well how about this? We could discuss this later tonight or tomorrow. You'd be welcome to stop by my house or I could meet you somewhere more public if you'd prefer."

My heart was pounding at the thought of having an opportunity to be alone my biggest crush and doing so at her house was more than I could have asked for. "That sounds great but it's Friday night and I'm sure you have plans and stuff so..."

"No. I don't have any plans, Cal. In fact, some company would be most welcome. Sitting alone in a large, empty house isn't exactly a whole lot of fun and now that my son's away, that's something I do far too much of. So you wouldn't be imposing, you'd actually be doing me a favor."

"Well, if that's the case then sure, I'd like that."

Mrs. Bentley grabbed her pen and a yellow sticky note. "Here's my address and phone number in case you need to cancel. Otherwise, see you about 8 o'clock? No, wait. That's probably eating into your social time. As you said, it is Friday night. Would earlier be better for you, Cal?"

"Oh, no. Eight is just fine. I don't have any plans either, Mrs. Bentley. At least not until this issue gets resolved so that sounds great."

"Okay. Eight it is. See you then."

Chapter 7

I didn't need the directions she'd provided. I knew exactly where the Bentley house was. In it was in one of the nicest neighborhoods in town. Her husband was some famous architect who'd built several important buildings in Seattle, Portland, and Vancouver, BC. The house they lived in was huge with large glass windows that looked bigger than our entire house. I pulled around to the garage per her directions and it was large enough to hold a half dozen vehicles. The only one in it was her white Audi. I parked the car and rang the doorbell to the garage-door entrance.

A moment later I heard the door unlock and swing open. Mrs. Bentley was standing in the hallway and welcomed me in. I wasn't sure what to expect exactly but her appearance did catch me off guard. Her hair was in a ponytail, she wasn't wearing any makeup, and her wardrobe consisted of a University of Washington Huskies "Dawg" sweatshirt and pair of old blue jeans. I couldn't help but notice she also barefoot.

"Hi, Cal. You're right on time. Please come in. Can I get you anything to eat or drink?"

"Oh, no thanks. Not unless you're having something."

Mrs. Bentley laughed softly. "I was thinking about a glass of champagne but your parents would probably kill me if I offered you one."

"Champagne? Aren't you LDS?"

"That's a long story, Cal. I'll be happy to discuss it along with anything else you'd like to know but tonight is about you being able to talk about whatever's bothering you. In short, I am still technically a member of the Church but I've lost faith in it over the last year or so for a number of reasons. So I'm having a glass of champagne. The question is whether or not you'd like to join me?" 

Mrs. Bentley wasn't "mean" or talking down to me. In fact, I found her honesty and openness refreshing. "Sure. I'll have a glass. My dad did let me have a glass on my 18th birthday so I can't imagine my parents would be too awfully upset."

"Okay. One glass. For you, that is. I may have two. It's been a long week."

Mrs. Bentley filled two expensive-looking flutes with the sparkly liquid, handed one to me and said, "Cheers?" We gently clinked glasses and took a small sip.

"Oh my!" she said. "That is so good. Okay, let's go sit down and talk about whatever's bothering you."

She led the way into a large, open area and offered me a seat on an expensive-looking sofa. I sat down and she sat across from me in an oversized chair.

"So, what's on your mind, Cal?" she asked as she took a bigger sip from her glass.

"Well. Okay, where to start?" was all I could think of to get things going. 

I took about ten minutes to explain what happened without going into any details about what went on in my car. I limited that part of the story to our having made out in the back seat.

"And you say she told you she's in love with you? After just one date?"

"She did."

"And that her suggestion to 'solve' this is getting married?"

"Right."

"Wow. Cal, let me explain a few things about the Mormon Church. You may know them from your friendship with Glen but hearing from someone else may be helpful. I've been a Mormon for 20 years myself and as I said, technically, I still am. I'll get back to that in a minute. My experience tells me there's something else going on here you may have left out. I say that because for Mormons, marriage is the defining event in their lives. They must be married in a Mormon temple where they believe the marriage is for all eternity not just 'until death do us part.' That, plus 'enduring to the end' in this life allows them to enter the 'highest degree of glory' in what they call the Celestial Kindom. This enables them to one day become gods and goddesses 'creating worlds without end.' For Karen to suggest marriage to solve a problem tells me there must have been more to your date than just some heavy kissing. That's none of my business but it sounds like something happened to elevate this at least in Karen's mind. Do you mind sharing it? You know, if something more did happen, that is."

I tried not to squirm but realized I was going to have to come clean here. I took a large drink and said, "To be honest, we pretty much...you know...we basically...went all the way. Saying that really sounds silly because I don't see anything wrong with consenting adults having sex. But then again, I've never talked about this kind of stuff with anyone let alone a woman as beautiful as you." 

Mrs. Bentley covered her mouth and laugh politely. "Oh, my! You are such a dear. This is beautiful?"

I looked directly at her when I said, "Mrs. Bentley. You're the kind of woman who is so pretty she couldn't hide if she wore a burlap bag so yes, this is still beautiful."

She sat there quietly just looking at me. "You see. I knew you were special. I knew there were qualities you have that set you apart from other boys your age." She quickly added, "I'm not calling you boy, by the way, Cal. You are a most definitely a young man whom I actually respect and respect has become very important to me lately. It's also been important but this last year has really changed my life and my outlook. Trust and respect are qualities I value and would never enter another relationship unless those two things are there in a very big way. Sorry, please finish what you were saying."

I went on to explained about her mom seeing the sweater and her reaction to it and Karen's subsequent reaction to her mom.

"Okay. That makes a lot more sense now. Karen wants to have an intimate relationship with you but to do so means she has to get a proposal and a ring from you followed soon after by a wedding even if it's not in a Mormon temple. Her mom won't like that aspect but at least it would be a marriage. Truth is, unless Karen really is ready to leave the church, which would break her mother's heart more so than having pre-marital sex, she and her mom will be pressuring you to join their church until you give in or grow deeply resentful. Is becoming a Mormon something you'd be willing to do?"

"I think Karen's given up on the Mormon faith because of her dad's death but honestly, I know she doesn't want to hurt her mother any more than losing her husband already has and I'm sure getting married seems like a sound solution to her."

"But what do you think? How do you feel? Do you love her and if you do, do you love her enough to marry her, let alone become LDS?"

"When you put it that way, it's not so complicated. No, I don't love her. I don't even really know her. She's attractive for sure and she's very smart and definitely nice. But do I love her? No. Definitely not. So that makes the question about marrying really easy. No. Absolutely not."

Mrs. Bentley listened to me then continued, "Then there's really just one more question. Do you want to keep seeing her?"

"Honestly? Well, that's harder because..." I was feeling the champagne now and maybe that was the reason I felt embolden to say this but for whatever reason I told Mrs. Bentley, "The truth is, I want to be with someone else and before you ask, no, I still haven't told her how I feel."

"Don't you think it's about time you let her know? As I said, she may just be waiting for you tell her how you feel. It could be that she's in a very awkward situation that precludes her from making a first move. What if you let her know and you find out she really has been waiting and hoping you'd tell her how you feel about her?"

I sat there staring at her until I realized I was staring. I looked away and then down.

Mrs. Bentley slid over closer and said, "Is this 'other woman' the married woman you told me about at the dance?"

I heard my voice crack as I managed to say only, "Yes."

"And isn't that married woman also your teacher?"

Again all I could manage was a hoarse whisper. "Yes, it is. How long have you known it was you, Mrs. Bentley?"

"Cal, my first name is Laura and it would be nice if you'd call me that. To answer your question, I've suspected you had feelings for me for some time now. That's why I went to the dance last week. I'm assuming you know my husband had an affair last year. To say that devastated me would be an understatement. I've needed time to get over being angry and hurt. I'm finally past that now but I haven't wanted to date anyone because trust is such a huge issue for me now. As crazy as this sounds because of your age and the fact you're my student, I trust you, Cal. And if I haven't said it before in clear enough terms, I am very attracted to you both physically and emotionally. But I can't get involved with you as long as the situation with Karen exists. You'll have to deal with that first. I'm not going to rush you. I don't want to actually be 'the other woman' and I certainly don't want to hurt Karen. When that's resolved, please let me know and then we can go from there. Okay?"

"I've been avoiding this all week and I know I have to deal with it soon. Now that I know the woman I really want to be with feels that way about me, I'm going to let her know how I feel tonight if it isn't too late. If so, I'll talk with her first thing tomorrow. Not just because I want to be with you, Mrs...Laura...but because this needs to be resolved. I don't want to hurt Karen, either, but I don't love her and there is no way on earth I would marry her let alone join her church."

"That is very mature perspective. I said I'd explain my feelings about the Mormon Church so briefly, this is where I'm at. I joined it 20 years ago in order to marry my soon-to-be ex-husband. I wasn't religious before that but I was so head over heels for him, it seemed a very reasonable thing to do. But I never really bought into the whole thing about gold plates and polygamy and becoming gods and that's the heart of their doctrine. Up front, all you hear about is how wonderful the family is and how family can be forever. Who wouldn't want that? It's all the other stuff that goes on. Inside a Mormon temple, their 'endowment ceremony' is almost verbatim the same as what goes on inside a Masonic Temple. And make these crazy oaths and agree to have their 'throats slit from ear to ear' if they reveal what goes on inside. I just think the whole thing is insane. You see, since my husband, this 'staunch Mormon elder and returned missionary' cheated on me—repeatedly and flagrantly, I've given up not only on my marriage but also on the Mormon Church. I'm not sure I ever fully bought into it but this is the time to make a clean break from him and it. He moved out the day our son left for the Navy and I've just been waiting for you to say something. I'm glad you finally did because I really do feel the same way about you."

"I've had a crush on you for as long as I can remember, Laura. I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You're not only beautiful but funny, smart, and..."

Laura moved next to me and cut me off in mid-sentence. "Okay. I'm convinced. And thank you for those kind words. It's been a very long time since I've even kissed someone other than my husband so in some ways, I'm as new to dating as you are. It's funny, but I never even dreamed it would be one of my students but the truth is I haven't been able to think of much else. When I heard you were taking Karen to the dance, I felt jealous. Jealous like I hadn't felt since, well...it had been many years. That drove me to do some gentle 'probing' to find out what you like because, well, I want you and I want you to want me back. Just so you know, I know about your 'sweater thing' and I'm happy to do that for you. Most guys have some kind of 'thing' and that one is pretty tame. Besides, it's chilly here and I wear them most of the year anyway." Laura laughed and that changed the entire mood as I also laughed.




Making the Grade Ch. 02



I just love my daddy. He has given me a wonderful gift, and I just want to make sure he keeps giving it to me. I am sure that as soon as I left for college, he starting feeling guilty and worrying about how others might view our relationship. I don't care though. I love him, and I want to keep showing him how much with my body.

Before I get too far along, I want to tell you a little of the info he may have left out. He was married to my mom, but she died a little over two years ago in a tragic car accident. Fortunately, Dad legally adopted me a few months before Mom's death. He wanted to step up and keep custody of me in case anything ever happened to Mom. Low and behold, it did. The truth is he probably never had anything to worry about. I never knew my biological dad, and Mom's family never wanted anything to do with me. They probably wish I was never born.

Why? I'm biracial. I'm sure Daddy left that part out. My mom was white, and I am the product of a relationship she had with another black man when she was younger. Daddy came along when I was about 10 years old. He's been the only real father I have ever known. He's actually only about eight or nine years older than me because, in addition to loving black men, my mom was a bit of a cougar. Ever since I hit puberty, I've dreamed about fucking Daddy. Honestly, I probably would have found a way to get that dark chocolate night stick he calls a penis even if Mom was still alive and they were still married. I've been prancing around the house in skimpy clothes like barely-there tank tops (often braless) and tight boyshorts for about four years now. 

I've been told I could pass for a white girl if I really wanted to, but I am proud of my mixed heritage. I definitely have a black girl's booty, and I—like my mother—am attracted to black men. I love the contrast of my creamy, almost pale skin against Daddy's dark brown skin. I just got done cumming all over my sheets in my dorm room thinking about the way he ate my pussy, fingered me, and then fucked me like there was no tomorrow. I put my vibrator on my clit, and I climaxed in mere seconds. I want him inside me again. I MUST have him inside me again, shooting his seed deep inside me.

I came home from college to find my dad fast asleep in his favorite chair. I walked over and planted a kiss right on his lips. Without opening his eyes, Dad grabbed the back of my head and began to kiss me back, moaning deeply. "Maggie," he said. I didn't say anything because I realized he must have been dreaming about Mom. I know he misses her, and I was willing to take anything I could get from him—any way I could get it. I stuck my tongue in his mouth to part his lips, and it was on. I stuck my hand in his shorts and pulled out his dark chocolate delight. Dad just moaned loudly and said, "I love you." I knew who he was thinking about, and I wanted to keep his fantasy going. I saw precum oozing from his cock, so I knew he was close.

Sliding down to my knees, I kissed the tip of his massive manhood. He had to be close to eight inches long and thicker than any man I've ever seen, including pornstars. I took his cockhead into my mouth, and I could taste the precum. It was a little salty, but it tasted good. I knew I was working with a monster, so I took in only the head at first. I used my left hand to stroke his thick shaft and my right to cup his balls. Daddy was in heaven. He was squirming and mumbling, "Yes, Maggie, suck that dick." I moved my hands and took every inch of him into my mouth. I gagged at first, but I soon adjusted and deepthroated him until he was hitting the back of my throat regularly. I felt his cock begin to twitch, and knew I was about to get my reward. Dad managed to clearly articulate, "I love you, Magggggieeeeeeee!" With that, he was releasing every drop of cum in his body down my throat. I was careful to keep my mouth wrapped around his semi-erect cock and to not let a drop of his precious sperm hit the floor. Daddy woke up after he had been milked dry, surprised to see his cock—not in Mom's mouth—but in mine.

"Hi, Ash. I'm sorry." I told him he had nothing to worry about, but that I wanted him to return the favor. "Sweetheart, we have to talk," he started. "I love you, and I think what we've shared is wonderful, but-"

"But what, Dad? You've already said all that matters. We love each other, and we enjoy being together. I can't think of anything we should be ashamed of."

"Baby, I'm not ashamed. I just don't think people will understand. I don't want them to think I'm taking advantage of you, and I don't people to look down on you in any way."

"So what am I supposed to do, Dad? Forget about how much I love you? How much I love your cock? Since Mom died, no woman has ever been able to satisfy you, and I've never been satisfied by any other boy—or man that matter."

"Man?" Dad questioned, with a concerned look on his face. "I thought you were a--"

"Dad, I was a virgin to intercourse. I've had lots of foreplay, including some oral, but I never was comfortable enough with anyone to give him all of me. I wanted you to be my first ever since I met you."

"You thought of me in that way before we had sex?" Dad asked, with a puzzled look. "I never knew you looked at me in that way."

"Dad, I don't see how you missed it, Dad. I've been hugging you extra tight since I was 13, and I've been prancing around you half-naked since I was about 16. You're the only man I've ever truly wanted with all my heart, and you made all my dreams come true a few weeks ago. It's all I've been able to think about since. Now, I just sucked you off and swallowed all of your seed. You owe me, and by the look of the bulge in your shorts, you're ready to pay me in full. I want you to fill me up, Daddy."

That said, he lost it. Dad made his way over to me and cupped both my ass cheeks with his large hands. He looked deep into my eyes, and I could tell that he finally realized resisting me was futile. He kissed me softly on my neck while massaging my buttocks. He then took his right hand and slid it under my shirt. As he pinched my right nipple, I moaned with sheer delight. Dad lifted my shirt over my head and cast it aside. He kissed me on my forehead before meeting my until-now neglected lips. We kissed deeply and passionately for what seem like an eternity. Meanwhile, Dad had taken his left hand and worked it down my pants until he reached my already-wet pussy. He placed one finger inside me first, then a second. All the while, I was moaning against his mouth as we tongue wrestled. I was receiving so much attention in so many different areas, I felt like I was about to explode.

Dad then removed his hands from my dripping pussy and my fully erect nipple and cupped my ass once more. He was still kissing me like nobody's business, so I wrapped my arms around his neck. He then picked me up around my waist. Eager to assist, I wrapped my legs around his waist, putting us back in the same position that started all of this originally. As we continued our passionate kiss, Dad began to walk toward his bedroom. I motioned for him to take me to my room instead. "I want you to fuck me in my bed tonight. I want to spend the night in your arms, Daddy."

He obliged me and carried me to my bed. Dad laid down and my bed. "It's time to return that favor. Take off your jeans and those panties," he said. He grabbed me by the hand and told me to straddle him. I sat on his firm torso, and he guided my pussy onto his face. Dad parted my tender lips with his tongue and stretched it deep inside me. He soon addressed my bulging clit, much to my satisfaction. I groaned and began to grind my pussy against him until I was riding his face. Dad began to moan and hum, and I was in pure ecstasy. I bucked against him fiercely as I approached an orgasm.

"I'm about to cum, Daddy!" I squealed. In a muffled voice, he told me to give it to him. And give it to him I did. I don't think I had ever cum so hard in my life. I repositioned myself so that my gushing pussy was still within his tongue's reach and so that I could reach his beautiful black dick with my own mouth. I began to tease him by taking in his full length and then pulling his cock completely out of my mouth. I had a plan to keep him stimulated without bringing him to climax because I wanted to be sure he would cum in my pussy this time instead of my mouth. Before long, I was no longer in control because Dad turned the tables on me. While still eating my pussy like a pro, he stuck a finger in my asshole. I couldn't concentrate on sucking his cock because an even stronger orgasm than before was building. Dad licked my throbbing clit while he massaged my G-spot, and I shot cum all over his face and chest. 

After lying limp on top of him for a few moments, I repositioned myself again until we were face-to-face. "You're quite a cunt eater, Dad." He smiled, grabbed my hands, used them to wipe up some of my juices off his face and chest, and then licked my fingers dry one by one. I was so turned on that I grabbed his still-hard cock and jammed it into my tight slit. Because it had worked out so well on his face, I decided to ride Dad again. I could only manage to do so gently at first, as I experienced extreme pleasure and a feeling that the combination of his length and girth was going to rip my pussy apart. On top of that, he was excited, too. Somehow, some way, his already enormous cock began to grow inside me.

"Honey, do you need to stop?" He could tell I was struggling. The genuine concern I could see in his eyes gave me further confirmation of his love, and I wasn't about to disappoint him. I shook my head, and to my surprise, I must have stretched some because I could no longer feel the pain—just waves of sheer ecstasy. I began to build to a furious pace. Dad's dick was rubbing against my clit just right each time I rocked back and forth. 

"I'm about to cum," I warned. He smiled and reached his hands up to my hard nipples and gave each a firm pinch. That sent me over the edge. "I love you, Daddy!" was all I could manage as I rocked myself to a powerful orgasm. "Now it's your turn to cum," I told him. 

"Not before you climax one last time," he said.

"I can't take anymore, Dad," I replied. Without warning, he began to thrust upward furiously, fucking me from his position underneath me. I was beside myself at this point. "Yes! Fuck me! Fuck your daughter's tight little cunt!" I then bent down and met his mouth with another passionate kiss, tasting my own sweet juices from a previous orgasm I'd had. Dad moaned and I felt his cock begin to twitch inside me.

He broke the kiss and shouted, "I'm about to cum!!!" He began to spout a massive amount of his seed inside me, even in spite of his previous discharge. The combination of his final thrusts and his eruption inside me sent me over the edge one final time.

"I'm cumming too, Daddyyyy!!!" I collapsed on top of him and we shared one final, deep and passionate kiss. He told me he loved me, and I told him the same. I slid down next to him and rested my head on his chest. We spent the night together in my bed and the rest is history. Or is it?