0 comments/ 28335 views/ 1 favorites Extra Curricular By: doctorant Ms Mora walked casually into the tumultuous classroom she had been assigned to. It was her first day on the job and she seemed to lack the all-to common nerves that she had been accustomed to during her last three brief yet somewhat productive positions. She walked and seemed to ooze a gumption that is rarely found confined between the stark walls of the classroom. All five foot eight of her portrayed a confidence usually found in an older woman. She had ruby hair complete with matching lipstick, blue eyes and a small kitten-like tongue that was deceptively small. Her shoulders were broad but not mannish and her figure was trim and well cared for. Her hips stuck out at her sides, perfecting the hourglass figure and her long legs perfectly shaven and always displayed. In fact everything about her was ideal. However, the same cannot be said for her 'main attributes'. Her breasts were trapped behind a 32B bra and deliciously pale, her nipples small pebbles on the larger mound and her areolas small but fiery when aroused. Her shapely buttocks remained her best feature; or at least that's what I think. They curved beautifully out from her and seemed to tighten and release as she walked, providing with all onlookers (guilty as charged) with a hypnotic swaying that shuddered each step, causing the fabric of her denim skirt to fold -- highlighting her captivating curves. She walked into the class sat down and waited. The room had been full of teenage banter and this sixth form class, a class unbound by even the most fearsome of staff, fell silent in awe. Ms Mora picked up the pen, bit her lower lip oh-so-gently and squinted slightly to take in her prey. "Hmm," she wondered, "all 18-19; well built; obviously intellectually competitive and all for me!" her lust had an instant effect on her body as she felt her skin burn slightly and the fabric in her bra stretching slightly to cope with the sudden increase in size. She clapped her hands to avert the class's attention from her statuesque breasts and wrote her name on the board. She was the new philosophy teacher and having just left the warm embrace of Cambridge, had come to Hintens School for Boys, after her previous three job positions at various un-academic schools. The lesson was far too short as all of the boys had become captivated by her arousing voice and exciting features. But for one boy it was far too long. Sam looked hurriedly at his watch, it was nearing the end of the lesson but the damned bitch wasn't letting up. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the desk and uttered a small sigh of exasperation. Not small enough it seemed as Ms. Mora snapped the book shut, walked over to him and asked him for his watch. Surprised, Sam warily unattached it from his wrist and handed it to her, "There," she said, "easier to concentrate now isn't it. What's your name?" "Sam." He said, again his suspicions becoming excited. "Well Sam, why are you in such a hurry?" "Oh, well er... its my... " he managed to get out before one of his classmates interjected: "It's his birthday and his girlfriend's waiting for him!" Sam clenched his jaw and slowly turned to find the culprit grinning behind a book, a miserable attempt at hiding. "Oh, well that's different." Ms Mora stated professionally. "In fact since you have another lesson of this you can pack up and get started on that." Sam stared, mouth open in shock, never before had any teacher let anyone leave early, especially for such a pathetic reason. He packed his satchel with his books and walked to the door, not without the victory smile to his loyal snitch. "You'll want your watch though," Ms Mora said as she sidled over to him, "because you can be here at 4:15 for the ten minutes you've cost this class. Bye-bye now." She said as she turned smiling to dismiss her class. That had been the second time Ms Mora had made him gasp like that but Sam bore it stoically and only let out the curse he had been holding under his breath in the hallway. That uptight bitch had just cost him his first blowjob. His girlfriend Carolina had promised him a quick but sweet blowjob as a birthday present at 4:30 and he needed to catch the 4:10 bus from school to get to her house before she left at 5:00 for her work experience out of town and now there was no way to get to her without missing his new 'appointment'. He considered skipping it but he had recently received his last warning from the school for his behaviour at a basketball match, where he had rugby-tackled the unlucky guy who grabbed his girlfriends arse. No. He couldn't miss this one. Annette Mora sat at her desk filing her nails as she admired her shaven pussy in the mirrored clock-face on the back wall. This could only be achieved when she sat in a certain way and she was sure that when she did this everyone in front of her could see her cute snatch. She had always thought it was important to know which positions put her strongest as she knew the way she was sitting now would alert complete attention. She was startled by a knock on the door and she stood, smoothed down her skirt -- moving her left hand just around each buttock before answering the door to a pupil. One that had caught her attention, one that wasn't paying attention to her, something she most sincerely ached for. "Hmm, strong boy, smart and cute. Hmm." She wondered, a fine shiver running down her spine as she visualised him ploughing into her; then immediately stopped as she saw Sam smiling. As soon as they made eye contact Sam had sensed the change in her from the earlier lesson. He had been blessed with an acute sense of smell and an awareness that made him an excellent observer, he had this ability to take in everything around him and as an attractive, well-built teenager he knew when a girl or woman was aroused. He could hear her sharp intake of breath as he subtly adjusted his charcoal grey trousers to reveal his semi-erect cock, all nine inches in its glory, but only for a second as he pulled his hand away to comb through his hair. That fleeting glance at that thick rod had left Annette almost speechless as she realised she had lost control and fought to stop herself from ripping his clothes off, but other than the semi-erectness of his member, she had not noticed any other signs of arousal in him. "That needs to change." She thought hungrily. "Middle chair front row, now!" she snapped attempting, quite successfully, to speak with an authority she felt he deserved more than her. Sam sauntered in, Carolina now out of his mind as he envisaged the contents of her scarlet blouse brushing against his arm as it had earlier when she had handed his watch back to him. More though was he wishing he could grab the perfectly sculpted behind she had waved in front of him as she walked past to sit in her chair. Annette felt the eyes on her shapely figure as she walked by him and sat down, she even bent to adjust something on her desk to give him another tantalising glance at her breasts. "There!" she thought as she registered the wetness on his lip, a sure sign of his arousal. She knew she had him captivated and moved in for the kill. Annette lifter her right leg and crossed it over her left then slowly hitched her skirt to reach the position she had been perfecting earlier. She distracted him while she did this so that she could catch him off guard when it was revealed fully. "How old are you?" She asked. "19 in September." "So you're not a virgin?" she asked directly. "Not quite, but I don't think I'm alone in that respect." Sam smiled, happy with his rehearsed answer to her predictably enticing question. "Not quite? Do elaborate." "Well there are some areas I've yet to explore that I was hoping to in about fifteen minutes, but for some reason I won't be able to make it." "Oh I am sorry, I had no idea, what with you being so well hung and all." She pouted as she caught sight of his cock slowly enlarging. "Maybe we can work out an agreement to solve your problem." she stated suggestively as she sharply tugged her skirt up. Sam gasped at the realisation of her words, which he had assumed were all bark and no bite until that glorious moment when her shaven pinkness had been revealed. His eyes were glued to it and he could not even muster the strength to stammer. Annette took advantage of his paralysis and stood then walked in front of him, put her feet on his chair and her buttocks firmly on his desk. With her arms she pulled his head into a kiss and playfully nipped his lower lip as she shot her tongue in and out of his mouth, forcing him to stretch his out to reach her evasive velvety tongue. After long enough Sam drew himself to his right and moved to kiss and lick her neck, smothering it with his wet; hot mouth. He ventured lower and with his left hand in the small of her back, pulled the right strap of her bra and collar of her blouse aside with his teeth, freeing the orbs that had lulled him into her power. He gently suckled everywhere but her nipple and flitted his tongue under each breast, revelling in its warmth and weight before blowing softly on her nipple then biting gently and finally suckling with earnest. Annette began gasping and hung her head back in elation as she felt an acute pleasure, she bit her lip and slowly lowered her head to his, her upper lip twitching with arousal, and she began to grind on his rock hard cock and freed her breasts completely by stripping off her top. Sam could tell from the heat and shear wetness that he had stoked her flammable flame and reached around her back to grope that magnificent arse, one that was truly upper class by definition. In fact the grinding had such an effect on him that he rolled his eyes to the ceiling and buried his face in her breasts; then groaned as he felt her reach for his shaft, stroking it through the fabric. He unhooked her from him and she knelt loyally on the floor licking her lips and kneading her breasts. Silently he unzipped himself and stood up in one smooth motion to reveal the fact that he had no underwear on either. Annette reached for his pants and pulled them down then let the steel rod brush against her face as it sprang up and down. Then she licked her lips and grasped the hot underside with her left hand, whilst playing with his balls with the right. Then she poked her tongue out from her cavernous mouth and playfully licked and wore at all sides of his shaft and then sucked the tip of his cock in a fierce contraction of her cheeks, causing him to groan in elation. Sam had waited for this moment for too long and felt the innate need for pleasure as he grabbed his teacher's rosy locks and forced her head back and forth along his shaft, the veins in his arms bulging as much as those on his shaft with the sheer effort. Ms. Mora did not seem to resist but willed the continuation and added her licking to the boisterous event. Sooner or later Sam gasped and stammered, "God, I...I...I'm cumming!" and pulled out of her mouth but she grabbed it back and forced him to unload in her mouth, stream after steamy stream of his spunk shot at her throat before falling in ropes down her gullet as she swallowed his seed, with the smallest amount seeping through her lips as she could not contain the flood. "Mmmm, so tasty." She said sultrily and licked his length once more. "So, am I right to say that you are my fuck buddy now?" She pressed gingerly on his cock with her tongue. "God yeah," he gasped as he felt her encircle his manhood with her lips, "but next time, I'm ploughing you." He managed to splutter. "Mmmm, we could make it a routine." He smiled and reluctantly re-clothed to catch the last bus from school. "Now that's extra curricular." Sam managed and winked at her as he pulled up his trousers. Extra Curricular (Confession) My one and only personal experience of fellatio (guy-on-guy) is so weird that it's hard to believe it ever really happened. It was over twenty years ago (I'm now happily married with two children) while at Plymouth University where I was studying Art and Design. I'd made quite a few friends by the second year and four of us shared a rented house in a suburb of Plymouth -- student accommodation, not great, but serviceable and bearable. The first year, as usual at Uni, had been spent on-campus so it was nice having the facilities of a proper house. We got on really well - two girls, both from Manchester, Bibi and Alex; and two boys, Phil, a black Canadian who looked and was a fantastic athlete, and yours truly, Kevin hailing from Sussex. Quite often on weekends if we had nothing better to do we'd sit around chatting and sometimes getting high on a little dope if there was any going. I think this one particular Saturday evening we'd overdone it because we all seemed to shed our inhibitions at the same time. We'd been chatting about studies, relationships, future careers, etc. and the girls had gotten through a couple of bottles of wine, while Phil and I had cracked our way through quite a few cans of Bud, so along with a few joints between us we were quite high by the middle of the evening. It was inevitable the topic of conversation would eventually come round to sex. It always did, although none of us had been promiscuous with each other. There was the usual ribald banter and laughter, just good friends getting along and enjoying each other's company really, nothing offensive. Because none of us were in a relationship with each other, it made for a neutral playing field with nobody taking offence or getting the old green-eye. The subject gradually centred on the male of the species, and in particular -- the male genitalia. It was also inevitable that black men would be discussed owing to their awesome reputation in this department and the presence of our Phil. Of course we had a few jokes with the Canadian and he took it all in good part, but it didn't escape anyone's notice that he was getting increasingly fidgety, shifting around in his seat like he was sitting on a sprig of holly or something, adjusting the crotch of his pants, and looking quite hot and prickly. Somebody made a remark about it, as the outline of his cock was becoming more and more prominent down the left leg of his pants and the root of his problem obvious. One of the girls (amidst some playful banter and giggling) suggested that he take a few seconds to sort himself out. Of course this created great merriment and there were hoots of laughter. Phil was laughing too, as he got to his feet and heeded the advice. And then I said: "You're a lucky so-and-so, Phil... I bet it comes up to your belly button." Cue more laughter. "Higher probably," said Bibi. "Shut up," said the big, amiable man. "You're making me blush." Given Phil's native colouring, this was also met with hysterics. "I bet you could suck yourself off," said Alex, and that really did it. We all fell about, paralytic with laughter. "Come on, Phil," I said, when we'd just about recovered. "Give us a private showing. You're among friends. We won't tell anyone." "Yeah, come on Philip," said Bibi. "Let's have a look at it." "No." "Be a sport," said Alex. And then for some unearthly reason, I blurted out: "If you show us, Phil... I'll..." "You'll what, brother?" And as if I had been forced into a corner and had to think of something quick, I said: "I'll go down on you... give you a blow-job!" I felt myself go red, and that did show on my fair skin. I took another swig from the can. What the hell did I say that for? I was really out of my head by now. "Yes, that'd be good," said Alex. "Hilarious," said Bibi, "and positively hot." "Yes, come on Phil, show us your monster truncheon thing and then Kev here will give you a lovely blow job. What a good idea, Kevin." "Hey!" I protested. "I didn't really mean it when I said..." The two girls chanted in unison: "Chicken, bwaak, bwaak, chicken, chicken... bwaak, bwaak, bwaak," and giving me the old pouty pseudo-miserable look. "But he's a guy," protested Phil. "Well there's nothing wrong with his eyesight, Bibi," said Alex, laughing again. "Go on Phil... Kev... be a couple of sports. No one else but us four need know. We all trust each other, don't we? I'd love to see two blokes at it. It would really turn me on." "Me too," said Bibi. "It's one of my most favourite fantasies - guy-on-guy action. It's so horny. Come on you two, get it on. Guys are always on about girls doing it together, so let's have some parity." "Looks like we're in this thing together, brother Kevin," said Phil, and began slowly, and seductively unbuckling his pants. My heart was beating faster. "I think they're just pulling our legs, Phil." "Oh no we're not!" came the unisonic reply. I'd really landed myself in it now. I couldn't back out and lose face. A deal was a deal. The two girls sat on the edge of their seats, egging him on, slow hand-clapping as he pulled his grey flannel pants with the knife-like crease down (Phil was always immaculate, even when dressed in casuals) followed by his freshly-laundered white underpants. Phil was a very clean and smart guy, quite different to the average student. What a magnificent sight greeted us. His prick sprang out and up like a jack-in-the-box, a thick purple-black rubber cosh looking mean and ready for action. Oh my fucking gosh... what a superb specimen of mouth-watering black man-meat. The girls were drooling; I was humbled. I hoped they wouldn't ask to see mine. It would be like comparing a canoe to a nuclear submarine. "Shall we have Phil standing and Kev on his knees?" "What, all subservient like?" "Yes, kind of master and servant." "Ooh, kinky." In the end we decided that Phil should lie on the floor with me kneeling between his legs and the girls, one either side of him to ensure fair play, and to keep us at it if enthusiasm flagged. Alex put a cushion under his head and made him comfortable. "That is one hell of a cock," said Bibi. I knelt in awe before his great ebony column, watching it beat time with his pulse. His great balls rested between the 'V' of his muscular ebony thighs, the ball-sac tightening with desire, twitching with the rhythmic 'bob' of his cock. One of the girls giggled. "Go on then, don't keep us all in suspenders." "All right..." I said. "patience, girls. But please, big fella, let me know when you're about to cum, man... so as I can get clear. I reckon this baby'll blow like Mount Etna judging by the look of it." "We'll monitor the situation," said Alex. "Don't worry, we'll let you know when." I mentally steeled myself, grasping the great cock firmly as one might grasp the nettle, as if by being firm and positive it would not turn its head and spit at or bite me, or make me feel nauseated. It made Philip jump. "Easy, man," I'm quite sensitive there." "Sorry," I said and relaxed my grip. It was a strange feel, much silkier than I expected, especially for such a powerful instrument. Yet there was a sense of beauty in the latent power of such a brutish weapon too. I could feel it throbbing under my fingers, like an idling V8 waiting for the punch of gas that would rev it up and send it flying off the start line. I drew the dark-purple foreskin back tight until the dome of his prick shone like polished jet under the ceiling light. A little bead of pre-cum glinted in its Cyclops eye. He groaned, and then made a little sigh. "We're waiting... stop messing about," said Bibi. "Be patient, girls. It's called foreplay," I intoned. "Foreplay be bollocks. Don't tease us. Let's see you suck him off properly." "Yeah, get down and dirty, Kevin," said Alex. "You know you want to... you shameless little cock slut." And I began, playing to the audience, taking the swollen head between my lips, almost recoiling with the intimate awe of it. Such a lovely texture, so sensuous and sensual, like velvet, I would not have believed it. I allowed it to bulge and stretch my cheeks, I thought the girls would appreciate the visual aspect. So far so good. I felt neither nausea or revulsion, only a curious mounting perverse excitement of doing something taboo -- well, taboo for a hetro guy. I tried taking him deep down, but gagged and eased back. How did girls manage that deep-throating technique without throwing up? I suppose it was a bit like sword swallowing. You had to resist the natural reflex to vomit. But slowly I improved, feeling the tip of his cock at the back of my throat without gagging. I could taste the sweetness of pre-cum. I could feel Phil reacting to my wet caresses by the movements of his body. His breathing was becoming shallow and agitated and I knew he wasn't far away. I'd given myself a mighty auto-hard-on too. I was really into it. "Yeah, go on, Kev-baby, suck him nice and hard." "Yeah, make it a good one. I want to see the spunk fly." "Black man's spunk." "Yeah, black boy's cream." And then Phil's legs stiffened, I sensed the spasms starting in his abdomen, his balls tightening and the bubbling sensation in his shaft and I knew it was time to get the hell out of there. He'd sure as hell drown me with his orgasm. I lifted my head... or at least, that's what I attempted to do. But instantaneously two pairs of female hands grabbed me, one pair pressing on my shoulders and the other holding my head down onto Phil's greasy pole. I almost choked. "Oh no you don't, Kev. You stay right there and take it!" "Ha-ha-ha!" "Brilliant... just look at that... that is so hot!" "Swallow it, Kevin, you little cock-lover." "Queer boys- queer boys" I couldn't escape. It was too late. My mouth filled very quickly with hot slimy cum, viscous and bitter, slightly saline and burning the back of my throat as it began slipping down my neck. I struggled to get my mouth off of Phil's erupting meat. I was fucking drowning. And then finally they let my head come up, but Phil's amazing ejaculation continued, catching me full in the face with little spitting bursts. There were screams and howls of laughter. The girls fell about the floor and Alex wet her knickers. "Oh man," said Phil, breathing hard. "That was something else." "Tissues please, girls..." I said, feeling Phil's sticky cum beginning to trickle down my cheeks.