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Seducing Teachers

By: Coxswain



I was horny. No doubt about it. The day started with a glance at a surveyor outside my apartment--working his transit out in the street. He was a big, muscular guy who looked like he would know how to use his big cock. Any man with broad shoulders like those and pecs that bulged his t-shirt had to be hung. What a body. Perfect. 

My apartment was close to Thrushmore High School, so I walked. I spotted a postman wearing shorts in the hot autumn weather. Carried a big leather bag. Probably had another one between his legs. Damn, I was horny. I could imagine that guy's postmark jolting me as his hips slammed into mine.

It had been too long. My pussy ached to stretch out over a big cock, to feel a man's seed surging up inside me. My first teaching job in 1967, was in a little town, Thrushmore, California. Orange groves. Old farmhouses. Plenty of well-built farm laborers, but I hadn't spotted a single man who'd return "the look." Conservative place. I had to be careful--didn't want to get fired for being a slut. 

But I was. No two ways about it. Ever since my college days. Damn, I was horny. Every man looked good. Even the old man with a beard who stood raking the leaves. He was healthy, strong, and--I just knew it--hung. Damn, I wanted to get laid! Will I have to drive all the way back to L.A. this weekend?



Seducing Teachers Ch. 02



Chapter 02

The Mark of the Panties

Still a virgin at 19, I lost my first cherry to Los Angeles--it fucked with my mind. The rest went when my roommates introduced little Kansas me to the Bohemian college scene and the wonderland of sex (still quite hidden in the '50s). But I didn't have much trouble finding eager guys at UCLA.

My first teaching job at a small-town school, Thrushmore High, for a long time was a sexual desert. Life wasn't as "easy" in a small town in 1959. But finally I got laid by one of my students, and I'll be damned, the coach himself got me. Once I located those sexy guys (and they discovered me), I got hot action nearly every day. 

Then I learned that Coach Cadze had mentored a student to become a stud. He'd noticed that the school nerd, Arnold Gilliam (of the pimples and thick glasses) had a surprisingly colossal cock, and since the coach was a sex addict, he tutored Arnold in what to do! He convinced the poor kid, an 18-year-old senior, that he was really a stud.

I can't imagine how he started the conversation, but he carefully told Arnold what to do, and then set him up with Melinda, one of the hornier cheerleaders. What he told her is a little easier to imagine--I heard that when she met Arnold, the conversation gradually developed into "Show me how big it is." 

According to Cadze, the impressed cheerleader then bent down and sucked off the astonished geek. With such praise and more encouragement--and some horny talk (the cheerleader was quite a potty-mouth)--she got Arnold to mount her, and the lucky kid fucked her on the bench in the locker room. Coach Cadze (and Melinda) turned timid, wimpy, shy Arnold Gilliam into a self-confident stud!

As a matter of fact, I let Arnold lay me, too. Hey, I've got nothing against building up a guy's ego, especially if he sticks that ego into me and makes me pant for him. Arnold wasn't handsome, to my taste--big ears, goggly glasses, crooked teeth--but damn, for a boy he indeed had a manhood (never can tell who's going to get one), and he was a quick learner. 

I let him think I was "under his power" late one afternoon. I called him into my classroom, then, "Oh, Arnold, I just can't resist you, you big stud." He gave me an astonished look, but it's amazing how quickly a male will catch on if it's about sex. He was a little clumsy--I mean, "Oh, baby, you're cute" sounds funny coming from a kid a head shorter (and I'm little!) with acne and a slide-rule in his pocket.

Not a good kisser, either. Tasted of licorice. Also an amateur at women's clothes. I helped him with the buttons and the apparently incomprehensible workings of the bra--the real mark of a skilled lover is that he can get it off without muttering to himself. I don't get it. I can take my bra on and off, reaching behind my back. 

A tiresome majority of guys reach around me, fumbling, groping, fiddling with it, trying to figure out how it opens. I don't know, maybe his mind is so full of Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, she's letting me at her titties, there's not enough intelligence left over to manage hand dexterity.

Biting my lip, I reached back and de-bra'd myself for him. Sheesh. Arnold was okay at panties. I mean, the last article of clothing before the articles of surrender is the simplest one of all. But then I had to give him his due: Arnold was very good at foreplay. Finger twirls around the nipples. Sucking little kisses on them. My nipples now smell of licorice? 

Good between my legs, too. Magic fingers. I wonder if he plays folk guitar. Great with the strums. The individual pluckings. He hit all the right buttons. One in particular.

Taking over, he laid me back on my desk--and then had trouble climbing up on it himself. Jeez, kid! But finally on the desktop with me, he grabbed my ankles and raised them--I helped by pulling back my thighs--and Oomph! he was in!

Damn, all of a sudden, he was good! Knew all the rules: waited to let me adjust, started off slow, long-stroked me; the kid had me panting for him in the first 60 seconds! He was so good, in fact, I wondered where he got all that skill. He often hit my G-spot, changing angles and thrust-pace, sometimes bringing his weight down on me, crushing my knees to my boobs, penetrating deeper, then releasing me. I gasped. God, he works that big tool like a master mechanic. Whoosh, what a fucking!

And something else: he reached down and diddled my clit when he saw me cumming, and--Damn!--what a feeling! He made my orgasm last so long, I thought I would pass out. How did he do that? I can't do that, and it's my clit!

As he lay on me, both of us spent, I slowly lowered my legs. Doesn't anybody around here screw on a bed? My back is killing me from these desktops and locker-room benches! I looked up at him, still breathing hard. "Damn--Arnold--you--damn good!--where--you learn that?"

The kid was huffing, too. "Thought you--of all people--know about--reading books."

Wow. Never underestimate a horny nerd! No man ever fuck & clitted me before. He read that in a book? What library is he going to? 

I staggered out of my classroom like I'd just played a rough chukker of polo. Saddle-sore. And who should I meet but Coach Terry Hawthorn!

I met him at the new-faculty orientation. First thing that hit me was his face--like a model in the Sears Catalog Men's Underwear section. Square jaw, sharp nose, curl of black hair over his forehead--like Superman, the TV character! And he had a big build, too. I figured him to be about my age--thirty-something. 

When he shook my hand, the strength of his grip made me wonder if I'd ever play the piano again. He was certainly the enthusiastic type. "Hey, isn't this exciting? Our first teaching jobs!"

Bright and eager, he was like a chipmunk in a gorilla's body. We appeared to be the only newbies, so although he was just a little too chipper for me, we got to know each other better. Turned out he was a Mormon, spent two years in the Army as a draftee, graduated from BYU. Built up his physique with Uncle Sam, he said, and decided he wanted to get into physical education.

He was exactly the sort of All-American, perfect-smile, guy-on-the-Wheaties-box type who rubbed me the wrong way. As he went on and on about how he couldn't wait to share what he'd learned about health and sports with "the kids," I had a terrible urge to ask him how often he jerked off.

When he mentioned he was married with two kids, I wrote him off as hopelessly straight, and when he ranted about his "beautiful little sweetheart," I fought down the urge to ask him if she swallowed his cum or spit it out.

I don't know what it is about me--some evil streak. He was just so icky-sticky goody-goody, I just had to put a rock in his shoe. 

Every woman has a "checklist" inside: How to Seduce Him. I'd been working on Terry Hawthorn for a number of weeks.

Item #1: Develop His Horny Attitude. This means causing little sexy thoughts. Real simple stuff at first, double-entendres: "Wow, you have a pretty big coffee cup." Pause. "But I guess it's not the size, it's what you do with it."

"I always think a book is easiest to read if you spread it open. Wide open. It always feels better that way."

"The stock market is easiest if you have foresight. But on really hot occasions you have to pull that foresight back, and out pops your bulging stock opportunity."

That sort of thing.

Later on we moved to Item #2: Nonverbal Communication. Much more of what we communicate comes across in things besides spoken words. This means showing some skin. This, though, requires a little skill. I mean, if I came to school wearing my pink tank top, the principal would give me a matching pink slip. 

Every woman has "working clothes." Tops with buttons, zippers, etc. Whenever I saw Hawthorn about to pass me in the hall, I quickly pulled open four or five buttons--till the sweater was open almost to my stomach--and the poor man got a deluxe view of décolletage not for public consumption. 

I'm proud of my rack. 28C. I'm little--the Gidget type--but I have knockers like a '58 Cadillac. 

Once I was past the gawking Hawthorn, I held a big clipboard in front while I rebuttoned myself into schoolmarmhood. 

Item #3 is more advanced. Fixation. Get him to attach motivations and desires on icons, on everyday objects. For most men, a good icon is women's underwear.

To get him to focus on my underwear took a little setting up. I started off by picking out an unmistakable pair of panties. Not white, not black, not pink, not even red. Everybody's got those.

For "special occasions," I got some bikini panties with little cock-&-ball motifs embroidered into them. Got them in Tijuana. Nobody around Thrushmore would have them. 

First I had to get him to associate that design with me, like it was my signature. I wore the panties to school one day with a tight skirt with a zipper in the back. I waited till he came out of his office (and luckily at that moment the halls were empty). With a loud "Oops!" I dropped some books, and I bent over to pick them up. 

I'd unzipped the skirt, so naturally as I bent away from him, it slid down a little, and he got a Grade-A shot at my ass and an erotic pair of panties. I looked back quickly, and he was blushing! Yes!

"M-Miss Canfield, your skirt is un-unzipped."

I straightened up and turned to face him. "Oh, thanks. Gee, how'd that happen?" I smiled as if trying to laugh it off: "I guess when a big, handsome guy comes walking by, I open up for him."

He blushed even redder! 

"Oops. That isn't what I wanted to say." Oh, but it was.

By then he'd waved and walked nervously on his way. Stage 1 finished! My cock & balls panties were imprinted on his brain.

Stage 2 was a little more overt. I left a pair of those panties outside the door of his office, after the kids were gone for the day, in a spot where he couldn't miss them. Then I hid to watch.

Jackpot! He picked up them. Put them in his pocket. Yes! 

Item #4 is known as the Kodak Kome-on. I set my camera on a tripod, aimed it into my bathroom, then set it on auto-click. When it started with the flash-pause-flash-pause-flash, I began to pull off my clothing. I made sure my tits got good closeups, and at the very end I "dropped something" and had to bend over to retrieve it, giving a Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer beavershot to the camera.

I sent the film away to be developed and printed, and when I got the shots back--Jeez, this is lascivious!--I packed them into a manila envelope with a note:

Mr. Hawthorn, You seem to be a cool kat, so I'm thunk you wanna see thes pix I took through Miss Canfield's bathroom windo.

Nedloh Fieldcaul

I got to school early the next day and slipped the envelope under his office door. Of course there was no Nedloh Fieldcaul at Thrushmore High. If Hawthorn turned it over to the administration/cops, I was prepared with an Academy Award performance of "Oh, my God! I'm so humiliated! Who could do such a thing?"

And I watched Perry Mason every week. I knew about fingerprints.

But he didn't turn it in. Jackpot! Days went by! He kept the pictures!

Talented women usually score long before Item #4, but Hawthorn was a special case. I figured he was ready for plucking, though, so I laid (so to speak) my cards on the table. 

That day, as I was recovering from the tryst with Arnold, seeing Coach Hawthorn in the hallway made me decide to go for him. Yes! I'm hot and up for it! I knew he would be working late on upcoming budgets. When I knew the school was empty, I poured a whole bottle of honey over me and went to his office. 

"Terry, Terry, please! You gotta help me! A student's whole biology project spilled over me! I've gotta get this mess off me!" I tugged at the sleeve of his sweatshirt, a panicked, dizzed-out woman, right? "The water in the girls' showers doesn't work! Can I take a shower in here?"

Okay, the water mains to the school supplied both the boys' and the girls' showers, so if one wasn't working, the other wouldn't either, but I could see male logic working in Hawthorn (hey, she'll have to take off her clothes), and that canceled out competing facts: "Sure, uh, yeah, if it's not working in there, yeah, you can use ours."

I went into the locker room and s-l-o-w-l-y took off my clothes (I was counting on his peeking from somewhere). I even moved about a little as if I were having trouble with buttons, zippers, etc. but in graceful dance moves. Then I walked naked--no towel--toward the showers. 

I glanced back. Yes! Coach Hawthorn watched me from behind a locker. 

In the shower room, I turned on a spray, then proceeded to rub myself sensually all over. Now the ball's in his court.

But what happened next was actually a surprise.

Terry Hawthorn, naked with a towel around his hips, walked into the showers with me. "Nancy, I think I'll clean up, too."

I turned to face him, giving him a full frontal. I was wearing cock & balls panties! 

Hawthorn stopped, frozen, staring, The towel fell from his hand. As it fell, I got my own shock. His prick was rock-hard, and a stalwart organ it was, indeed. Yes!

I could see the question in his eyes: Where'd the panties come from? I saw her take them off!

Poor male. I palmed them and put them on again in the shower. Anything to mess with his mind. 

Hawthorn was blushing. Fighting to gain control of the situation. Very nervous. It was incredible. 

"C'mon in , Terry. I was thinking about you."

He gulped. "You--wearing--panties--" Talked like a zombie. 

"Oh, is that bothering you?" I pulled them down. "See how wet you've got me, Terry?" Of course I was in a shower, but it's not about where the wet came from, it's where you say it came from. "I've been waiting for you. C'mon over closer." I paused. "You know you want to."

There's the deal-breaker. Now he leaves the room--probably to report me--or...

He moved closer and touched my thigh. I purred. "S'matter, Coachie, don't dare touch me further?" I turned my snatch toward him.

Mesmerized, he rubbed his hand against my mound. His male nature took over, and once he let his fingers do some walking, he was on the slippery slope to pleasure--mine, anyway.

Finally I began to sink to my knees. "N-no!" he gasped.

But I kept sinking down, and poor Terry was in the power of forces he couldn't control. The big man was breathing hard . "No! No, I won't!"

When my knees hit the floor,--Wow, there it is!--I reached out and seized Superman's rod. 

"N-n-no! D-don't!"

"Yes, you want me, Terry, you really do! You've been dying to see me naked! You've been staring at me for weeks. I'm all you can think about!"

He was silent.

"Isn't that true?"

"Yeah." His voice was so soft I barely heard him. "I should've known. You're the one who sent me the pictures, left the panties outside my office!" 

"Yeah, Terry. I know the real you, don't I?"

"Yeah." Again, his voice was so faint, it was like a prayer. "How did you know?"

"A superman like you has sex oozing out of his pores. Any woman can tell."

He gasped.

"Down deep inside, you've always wanted a woman to suck your cock, haven't you?" 

Again that feeble "Yeah." I bent my head to his crotch again. "No! No, don't!" 

I picked up my panties and handed them to him. His hand trembled, and he stared at them for a moment--then sucked the wet things into his mouth. Yes! Then he was under the control of something much more powerful than his sense of decency. 

I bent over his hardon. I love foreskins! I closed my lips over it, pulled it back, and my tongue touch the hot, moist glans. 

I sucked him for all I was worth, stroking cockshaft. After a minute or two, I reached between his legs and stuck a finger up his ass. He lurched in surprise but didn't stop me.

I backed off. "Naw, Terry, you don't want to cum in my mouth. I've got a better place for it." I dropped onto my hands and knees.

He spit out my panties. "No, oh god, no! Not that!"

I was a good Boy Scout: I had a little plastic jar of Vaseline, and I dug out a gob, swiped it over my pussy, then slicked up his throbbing dong. 

"No, no, please! I can't do this! Okay, I'm--I'm a pervert, but not a--not--Please, no--you-you can't"

But instead the big guy obeyed his testicles. He dropped to his knees behind me. I looked back then reached back and stroked his boner. "This is what you want, isn't it, Terry? A hot woman begging to satisfy you?"

"No! No, that's--that's not what--what I want!" Husky voice and his meat up like a flagpole contradicted him. 

I took a deep breath. "Yeah, you big stud, once in my pussy, you'll be spoiled for any other female."

"No, no, please!" But he didn't resist when I pulled his organ toward me, aiming it, positioning it, settling it at my target. 

He surrendered. He pressed against my puffy, eager labia and shoved. His cockhead slid inside. He was mounted. 

He slowly pushed in and gripped my hip with one hand and began his thrusts. And after a dozen or so, it happened. With a gasp and a long, low moan, he started to enjoy. No more reticence. He surrendered and become a stud. 

The guy's shaft had stretched me open and claimed as his property, which was damned okay with me, and I'll be damned if he didn't move closer to the Dark Side: "Yeah, I'll fuck you, bitch." He lost his husbandly cherry listening to the schluck-schluck-schluck of his own vanished "virginity." 

He kept the pace for about 10 minutes then sank in to the bollocks, and I knew he was breeding me. I wasn't worried. I'm never without Wrigley's Spearmint gum and The Pill. 

He released his vise-grip on my hips, bent over, and kissed the back of my neck. "God, Nancy--fucking--amazing!" 

He sat back, pulling out his prick, and a white, cloudy stream dribbled from my gaping pussy. Damn! He's been saving that up for a long time. Must not be getting any at home.

He rolled over onto his back on the wet tile floor, and I reached over and rubbed his hairy, slippery chest. As he lay there in his afterglow, he moaned, "What have I done, what have I done?"

"You just took my cherry, Coach. My ass belongs to you."

He looked up. "You are not a virgin! You took advantage of me."

"Took advantage? You never reported the naked pictures you got of me."

Hawthorn's voice was strained. "Those tits--those panties--you--overpowered me."

"Hey, I'm an innocent woman. Did I knock you down onto this floor? Did I force you to make love to me?" 

"Yes! You're the devil! You hypnotized me! You forced me! Against my will!"

I reached over and stroked him, bringing him back to erection, and he stared, horrified, but did nothing to stop me. "Get over here, Coachie, and fuck me again." I lay back and spread my legs.

"No!"

"What?"

"YES! Yes! I can't fight you! That body--those huge jugs! I'm possessed by you, demon!" 

I looked up at him. "Yeah, Terry, I want you to fuck me! Jam that thing all the way in! Make me your bitch!!"

With such a polite invitation, what could he do? He took me again, that time face-to-face, my spread legs up in the air, soles of my feet at the ceiling--the posture of total submission. He sank into my trained and loosened pussy and gave me another good ride. Hit me with a couple of excellent orgasm. When he finished, I pointed to the stream of jizz flowing back out. "You're such a stallion, Terry, you could knock up the whole cheerleading team."

I got up, dried myself on his towel and tossed it back at him. "You want to get together again, stud?"

He sat up and held his head in his hands. "Yeah, Satan. You broke me. I'm hot for you."




Seducing Teachers Ch. 02



I spoke more softly. "You want to give back my panties?"

His voice was even softer. "No. Please. Let me keep them. I want to smell them."

I didn't really want to break up Coach Hawthorn's marriage. I just wanted him to stop with the constant I'm-the-purest-guy-in-the-world crap. I didn't really figure on him as a frequent player.

So in spite of then four sex partners in my little pink book, I was beginning to get a bit bored. I mean, I got sex. Plenty, really. But just two students, Prandon and Arnold, and one teacher, Cadze. I didn't really think Hawthorn's guilt complex would make him much of a suitor. I was tired of hamburgers; I wanted a Big Mac (but those wouldn't be invented until 1968). I started planning a trip back to Los Angeles for a little "variety."

After school the next day, I had an appointment with a parent. It didn't look good. Janey Barkett's father. Yep, the cheerleader who'd been sucking Prandon's cock. She got a C grade in my class, and apparently her old man was "displeased." 

I love it. The kid gets a bad English grade, and the parent stomps in: "I ain't understandin' why my daughter ain't doin' shit in yer goddamn English class!"

I pulled open the bottom drawer of my desk. Bottle of Jim Beam. No glass--I had to make concessions to secondary education (teachers were supposed to be one notch under angels)--I drank a good slug from the bottle.

A few minutes later I heard a knock at my classroom door. "Mr. Barkett, what can I do for you?" To cut short the handshake, invitation to sit, etc., he pulled his chair closer to my desk. "It's about my daughter Janey."

Duh. What a surprise. Janey's old man was a large guy. Face like a prize-fighter--pug nose, lantern jaw, heavy brows. Crewcut fiery red hair. I figured him about 55. Dressed up in suit and tie, but I guessed him to be a construction worker, truck driver, something like that.

"Janey got a straight-A average everywhere 'cept in your class."

"Well, unfortunately, Mr. Barkett, her test scores don't rate an A."

His voice was low and slow. "She told me you saw her sucking Prandon's cock, and you didn't do nothing."

I blinked. "Whaaaat?" Damn, the Barkett household is pretty liberal if the kid talks about stuff like that!

In a flash, he stood up, reached out, and grabbed my arms. As I tried to stand, he twisted my arms, forcing me down, out of my chair, bending me over in front of him, and with a final yank, he forced me to my knees. I snarled, "What do you think you're doing??"

"It's what you think that I want to know!" He let go of my arms, and quickly undid his pants and dropped them to his ankles. I gulped. I was looking at a titanic bulge in some very sexy underwear. 

"Yeah, Miz Canfield, you like my underwear? We know you like watchin' cocksucking. Maybe you wanna do it. Take a look! You wanna suck my cock?"

He yanked down the briefs, and out sprang one motherfucker of a hose. Biggest one yet. Damn, this town is really turning into a cockfest. Had to be 10 inches long. Fuck! Thick as my wrist! The huge, circumcised organ had a weird upper curve at the end. Reminded me of a crowbar. Son of a bitch, what a cock!

It grew harder and longer, and he stared down at me, proud, lustful, and domineering. When his erection was fully hard and stuck out straight from his waist, I noticed beside him on the desk a stack of student essays. His rod was longer than the sheets of paper! Damn, those papers are 8½ x 11. His cock is over 11 inches long! Son of a fucking bitch!! 

He grabbed my head and brought the huge dong closer. "There you go, Teach. Show me how much you wanna suck my cock." 

If he were on the verge of complaining about me to the school administration, I had to obey him--but on top of that, I was dying to suck that big monster. I opened my mouth. Wide. Then wider than I thought possible! My jaw hurt. 

A deep-throat couldn't work--the strange up-curve at the end wouldn't shove down my throat, so I did my best to buzz-saw his cockhead with my tongue, filling the room with slurping sounds. I started to rub my pussy through my skirt, but he slapped me. "Pay attention, bitch. Ain't ever'body gets to enjoy a pecker like mine. After you swallow my first load, I'm gonna fuck that tight box of yours, and then you can rub your little clit all you want."

What? He's going to fuck me? Wow, this guy is solid gold!

He kept grunting, "When I'm finished with you, bitch, you ain't never gonna think about another man! You'll belong to me! I'll turn you into the little whore you know you are." 

Hate to disappoint you, man, but you're about five years too late.

He pushed me away for a second and shucked the briefs down his legs and off. Then I glommed back onto that bazooka and showed him what I could do: I jacked the big pipe with both hands while I hummed and tongued the crown. And after a couple of minutes of professional cocksucking, it worked: 

"Okay, baby--get ready--swallow--big load!"

He'd been giving me short thrusts, but he stood still for a second, and the first blast filled my mouth. I gulped as he shot more and more. Damn, his semen was powerful stuff. Strong. Salty. Not watery but thick, like slimy toothpaste. Fuck, what a stud!

"Good girl," he murmured. "You'll come to know that taste. From now on you'll get a regular dose."

Wow, he wants to be a regular? This is perfect! 

He'd just cummed, but the big cock didn't get soft; I was impressed. As I bent over further to lick and slurp at his big, hairy nuts, the giant erection swayed and bounced against my face. A big drop of jizz at the very tip smeared over my forehead. 

With every breath I took, I inhaled the man's scent. His balls, his crotch, his sweat, his maleness!

He pushed me away and began taking off his shirt and kicking off his shoes, but I was too intoxicated to move. Breathing his sex pheromones, I could do nothing but stare as he took off his pants. 

His belly was chiseled and lean, his legs hard and well developed. Wide shoulders. Broad chest covered with that fiery red hair. Second--naked--muscle-man today--hope he--fuck me. I couldn't even think straight!

"Okay, teacher-bitch, strip!"

I pulled loose my blouse and opened my skirt. Pulled down my panties. Hope--nobody--in school. His cock bobbed and swayed above me, hypnotizing me. I'd never been so fuck-drunk.

"You little bitch, you're wet for me! You really like this shit! Hurry up, you little cunt. I'll spread your pussy for you. Get on your hands and knees!" 

I assumed the position--Yes--god--yes!--but suddenly the animal, survival part of my brain kicked in: cock --that size--crowbar hook--kill me. I yelped, "Lube! Bottom drawer!"

"Well, I'll be a son of a bitch! You sluts really travel ready, don't you?" I heard the drawer open. I heard the Vaseline jar unscrew.

His thumb touched my opening and started to grease me. "You like that, do you, slut? Can't hide your lust, bitch? I'm gonna own that pussy." 

But I was far, far along the arousal trail. I wanted to get to the main act. I crouched there, moaning, already his slave. You dumb fucker, you're preaching to the choir! You're trying to flip a pancake that got flipped a long time ago!

Finally his bottle-thick cock touched my cunt, which was aching to glove it.. Yes! I dared to speak: "Yeah! Hurry! Shove it in!"

"Hungry for my big cock, are you, slut?" But he only teased my eager hole with light touches. Again and again, just nudges. He slapped my ass hard. "Tell me you want it. Say it!"

"Do it! Fuck me! I want every inch of that huge cock!"

"That's a good little bitch. You gonna to be a little pecker-loving slut who needs my meat all day and all night."

You big, dumb bastard. You're playing exactly into my hands by sticking that big thing up me!

Just then, with a Yipe!--damn, he is big!--his cockhead pushed past my lips. I have (ahem!) been fucked before, so most cocks give me just a little blip of pain, but Barkett's crowbar, that size and that weird hook, felt like I sat on a cactus. Yeowch! He slid in a good length, about the length of Cadze or Hawthorn, but I knew he had even more to go. God, what a find he is!

He paused, letting me adjust. Damn, he was thick. My crevice was so stretched, I could feel the monster throbbing. Soon the pain faded, and, god, it felt good. It did take the breath out of me, though. Fuck, what a cock! Gradually he sank it in as deep as it could go, and I was stuffed. 

After a minute he started stroking in and out, and...perfect. Fabulous! There's nothing like a big bull using me to please himself. The dumb fucker pleases me, too, whether he wants to or not.

Then he started fucking with a technique I'd never experienced--like a roaring, pawing buffalo, he pulled the monster all the way out on every stroke, blasting out through my pussy lips, then blasting in again. Forcing me to ride over that big cockhead and that curve again and again. It hurt at first, but gradually the pains blended into the pleasure until it was an incredible turn-on, and I went crazy!

Each stroke sank deep into me, giving me that wonderful fullness, then he pulled out, flaring my vagina open once coming out and again going back in. So good! I was so delirious, I was his fuck-slave! I never wanted him to stop. Shit, he was right! I'm going to need that big pecker all day and all night! I found myself wanting to please him, serve him, anything he wanted. He thrilled me as he held my hips tight, thrusting, lunging, overpowering me. I loved it.

And it dawned on me he was only on one knee. His other foot was flat on the floor beside me. Fuck, what a stud. Always ready for combat. Only on one knee to fuck me.

And he wasn't through! He pulled his cock out and flipped me over onto my back. Then he got between my legs, lifted them, and mounted me once more. He looked so horny, so masculine, so seductive, I raised my feet to the sky in surrender. 

I love to look at a man's face during intercourse. I can see the real animal, and I love to be his piece of meat. He slid it in deep. Oh, yeah!

Fully sheathed in me, he smiled, and I felt like his lover. I hoped he was telling the truth about making me his bitch. I wanted to live with him in me, my ankles over his shoulders. 

He held my legs as he pumped deep, and The Feeling started. Oh, yes! I held him tighter, breathing his scent, slowly growing to a climax that blasted into a motherfucker of an orgasm! Blinded by the sheer maleness of the bastard, I let out a loud, long, hoarse scream, completely, insanely, abso-fucking-lutely out of my mind! 

So great to be a slave, a pure fuck-tunnel for the magnificent man! My electrocuted cunt clenched around his boner in lightning grabs as I thrilled, shivering in a terrible, intense ecstasy. I went insane! 

Panting, I saw crazy visions! I didn't know what was real and what wasn't--the biggest, most mind-blowing fuck of my life! 

I submitted everything about me to him. Opened my legs wider. His slave. Anything he wanted to do to me! And, god, he hasn't even cummed yet! He gloated above me. "Oh, yeah--bitch--like my cock--makes you cum!"

I clamped my kegel muscles tight around his cock, and he groaned, and after about 10 or 20 more strokes his tool jerked, and hot juice filled me. Yes! He's breeding me! YES!! As he ejaculated, he shook me violently and squeezed me hard until finally--God, what a cumming!--the jerking subsided and he quit pushing so deep.

So, SO good inside me! I loved the feeling of being full, used, his servant. As he pulled out, I felt lost. Empty--although cum poured out of me. He looked down at me and smiled at his handiwork. I would do anything he wanted because anything he wanted was always pleasure for me.

"And Janey gets an A, right?"

"Yeah! Fuck, yeah. Change it tomorrow. She gets an A."

Mr. Barkett put on his clothes and left my classroom. So that's how kids get grades around here. Janey Barkett got an A for the long, motherfucking afterglow her father gave me.

Thrushmore is turning out to be the horniest place I've ever been. Fuck!

~~~

~~~

~~~



Seducing Teachers



Damn, I was horny! I had a terrible craving to kneel down there and suck that big cock, myself! But I forced myself not to. It was enough that I was standing there without stopping them. 

When Prandon finally pulled back his cock, damn, it was magnificent! A broad, flaring head like a giant mushroom, purple with satisfaction. And Prandon's foreskin slid back over it like Batman's cape swirling around him. I knew it! He's uncut! Damn, I wanted to suck that thing! I licked my lips automatically. He saw me and smiled. Shit.

"I, uh, have to get the projector." 

Janey stood up, straightened her hair, and hurried away. Prandon, though, stood there. "I'll give ya a hand."

"That's okay, I can handle it."

I unlocked the storage room and walked in. Prandon followed me.

"Damned hot in here," he muttered. I heard the sound of a zipper behind me, and I turned to look. Fuck! Prandon was facing away from me and had stripped off his pants and was in the process of pulling down his tiny white briefs! As they hit the floor I could see the pouch in front was stretched and distended.

From the back, Prandon was masculine perfection! A muscular kid big for his age, his back view was more than I could take. His buttocks were two perfectly symmetrical globes of hard muscle. Big sinews in his back undulated as he pulled off the shirt. Shoulder muscles like iron straps. Legs like works of art--like on statues of Greek gods. And he had a bikini line--his body was healthy, outdoorsy tan, but his ass was stark white. 

Then he turned around. And there it was, the cock that hypnotized me a couple of minutes earlier. Hard again. Young guys can really reload! I got a good look at his testicles. Big. Any bitch fools around with this guy is going to get pregnant!

He looked at me with that knowing smile. "C'mon, Nancy, the kids in class won't be expectin' ya for 10 or 20 minutes. We got time."

I was stunned. 

His voice got a little edge to it. "Git over here, Nancy, and wet it down fer me while yer pullin' down yer panties!"

I still stared like a dumb ox.

"Nancy, I'm gonna fuck ya. Ya know it, ya know ya want it, and I'm horned up for ya now. Git over here and suck my cock!"

I don't know what was going through my head. The risk was tremendous. Prandon was not a minor, but I would certainly be fired, and there would probably be some legal problems. But I was so fucking horny I couldn't think straight. I dropped to my knees.

Fuck, what an experience! Magnificent cock! Like a stallion! Cockhead so broad I only barely got it into my mouth. I licked rapidly just under it, at his pleasure-spot. I'm a good cocksucker. I know what to do. It tasted of sweat. And cum. Familiar flavors. It had been so long, so fucking long!

I reached under to cup his balls while the other hand unbuttoned my skirt. When I finally shoved the blue cloth down off my ass, he backed away. "Okay, Nancy, stand up, we have to make this a quickie."

I stood up, and he shucked my skirt and underwear down to my ankles, and I stepped out of them. He stood between my legs, spread my cheeks, and swiped my pussy with something slimy! Then he dropped a small tube on the floor. K-Y. Damn, this kid packs his own lube? What a stud!

Then he surprised me. He reached down and grabbed one of my ankles and lifted my foot off the floor. That put him even more in control--I was off-balance. I had to reach back and hold onto his shoulders!

Then his cockhead found my eager cunt--Oh, god, it's been so long, so fucking long! As he pushed it in, the pain took my breath away. God, he was big! He got me panting, breathing hard to absorb the pain. It hurt, but I was so hot I wanted it rammed in all the way.

And he sank it in to the balls. The huge stretch of my cunt around his giant girth set me on fire, but I was so hot for him, I didn't care if he tore me open. This will be a motherfucker of an orgasm!

The kid was a great fucker! When he started his lunges, he hit my G-spot like a pro, and the leg I was standing on grew weak. I held onto his shoulders more tightly and kissed the side of his face, licking off the sweat, gasping encouragement to him: "Yeah--big fucker--ungh!--big cock--deep--inside--angh, god, yeah!--fuck me--harder!--deeper!"

He let out a deep, low groan, and I knew he'd made it. I love the warm, spreading fullness of a man ejaculating in me. Breeding me. Filling me with his swimmers. Thank god for The Pill. I clenched my kegel-muscles around him to increase his pleasure, and he grunted at each clench, which made me glow with pride, so proud and turned on, in fact, that I cummed, too. Slobbered my female lube around him, and his thrusts became slushy-sounding and hydraulic. 

When he finally stopped--and I felt a wet trickle down my leg--he released the other leg, pulled out his cock, and I unwrapped my arm from his shoulders. "Yer a good fuck, Nancy. I think I'm gonna take ya regular from now on."

I smiled shyly. "I think I'd like that." 

I clenched kegel-muscles tight to hold in his sperm--to keep it out of my underwear until I could make it to the ladies' room.

He stepped back, moved over to the pile of his clothes, and started getting dressed. I stepped into my panties, pulled up my skirt, grabbed the projector on its rolling stand, and hurried out the door. "Lock the door behind you," I called back.

Oh, man, did I feel good! Felt like singing. I checked my watch. My teenaged lover did me in only 10 minutes. Peppery balls at that age. God, I felt good! My pussy was sore, but it was a good sore. Like sore muscles after winning the game.

Struggling to keep my mind on what I was doing, I set up the projector and started it. "A Metro-News History of World War II" would hold their attention--plenty of diving Stukas, soldiers firing artillery pieces, and proud marches through Paris. Then they were supposed to write a theme on warfare over the weekend. I slipped out and hurried down to the faculty women's room. When I got there, damn, Prandon really packed a load. It was like peeing sperm in the toilet. 

I checked my panties--wet in the crotch. I wiped them out as best I could and pulled up my skirt. Checked my butt in the mirror. Nothing wet or white showing through. Whew!

Back in class, I watched the end of the movie, shut off the projector, and rewound the film as the students filed out of the room. Prandon stayed behind. 

When we were alone: "Ya got a nice, tight pussy, Nancy. I'm horned up again for ya. Ya interested?"

"Maybe. When?"

"How 'bout right now?" He pulled open his pants, and there it was again. That magnificent cock. 

"N-no, I--I can't--not--not here!"

"It's late. Friday. Everybody's gone, even the teachers."

It was a terrible risk, and I tried to resist, but all I could think of was that big, hard cock. I couldn't help myself. I dropped to my knees and started sucking again. Damn, that cock owned me. All I wanted to do was service it--any way I could. 

"Get naked, Nancy. I like my bitches bare-skinned." Still sucking him, I pulled off my blouse then fought to shuck down my skirt. 

He pushed me onto my back, and I raised my legs for him as he stood over me, but he surprised me again. He reached down, grabbed my ankles, then lifted up my legs until my whole body was off the floor, upside-down, feet straight up in the air, balanced on my neck and shoulders! I spread my arms out wide for balance.

He was in control. The masterful symbol of his masculinity, that giant cock, stretched me wide open again and claimed me as his once more as it sank in--downward--balls deep. I gasped and panted as his big testicles pressed against my ass. Oh, I loved his size. Even the pain was a turn-on. 

Juice from my own cunt ran in a trickling stream up my belly. I was on a high--a fuck high--and I released all control. "Fuck me, kid," I begged. The big teenager started moving, and even though I was uncomfortable, all my weight on my neck and shoulders, he was hitting places inside me I didn't know I had, and he soon got me moaning low and mindless. 

To get a better grip on me, he moved one hand from my ankle to my thigh, and limp and helpless, that leg sagged over at the knee. I was splayed out for him like a complete slut, one leg straight up, the other flopped over. I loved being his slut. Over and over he hit my G-spot, and my toes curled in ecstasy.

I also loved the complete don't-give-a-shit disdain he had for me. Standing up to fuck me, lifting me up like a side of beef, no regard whatsoever of my pleasure--the bliss I got from his fucking was pure coincidence as far as he was concerned. And being treated like a slut was a giant turn-on for me. I closed my eyes and squeezed my cunt tighter for him because I knew I was supposed to. I was his hole.

He quickened his fuck-pace, but I couldn't do anything to express my lust for him--I couldn't lock my legs behind his hips, I couldn't kiss him, all I could do was hang there, upended, vertical, listening to the young, rutting bull as he snorted and groaned, ravishing my worshipful vagina.

He moved to short, jerking strokes, and I figured he was about to cum. Just at that moment, I heard a nightmare sound--the door opening!

I looked up, and Coach Cadze walked into the room! "Well, well, I never figured this of you, Miss Canfield." My whole life passed before my eyes.

But Prandon growled, "Strip down, Coach, yer next!" Before my astounded eyes, Cadze began to strip off his sweatsuit! 

But Prandon took my attention again, suddenly raising himself up even higher and pummeling me, power-fucking me, driving me crazy as he pulled his cockhead almost totally out then sinking balls deep in me again. Finally he grunted back, "Unnngh, cummin'!" 

When I heard that, I was a goner. An intense blast of pleasure shot through me as I went into a wonderful orgasm, writhing under him, my pussy clenching and convulsing around his mighty cock. The kid had fucked me again into another orgasm. It was a weird feeling, really. Submitting myself to a kid 10 years younger--okay, at 18 he was a man--but I still couldn't think of him as anything but a kid, and getting my cunt reamed by a kid! The eroticism, the fucking wrongness of it was a gigantic turn-on.

As I wriggled like a landed fish, Prandon dumped his load in me. I know they say you can't feel it, but I swear each squirt was a boiling surge, a hot, full feeling inside me. I had another load of the big kid's swimmers in me. When his climax finally faded, Prandon pulled that wonderful cock back out then let go of me and let me slump back to the floor, panting and sweating, feeling his sperm leaking out of me.

"Want to take a turn at her?" 

I looked up. He was talking to Cadze. I'd forgotten about him. He was completely naked. God! The sweatsuits he wore disguised a ripped body. Muscle definition everywhere. Not an ounce of fat. Took my breath away. Bald head but light brown hair over his broad pecs. Swirls of hair around his pointed nipples--he was playing with them, teasing them hard--hairy treasure trail over a washboard belly. Powerful arms. Fuck, he was hot! 

Nice cock, too. He was fully hard. Circumcised. Bare cockhead. Not as hung as Prandon, but a nice one. I felt myself getting hot again, even though I was still in a nice afterglow.

But want to take a turn at her? He walked over. "Roll over, Miss Canfield." At first I was pissed, but then, hell, he just watched me get fucked, and he's naked himself. And he's nice meat.

I rolled over and rose up onto hands and knees, then slumped down onto my elbows. Cadze mounted me, and as I was loose and cum-slick from my adventure with Prandon, he slid into me in one stroke, just a happy little lurch of surprise-pain, then that luscious full feeling of a cock inside me! I dropped my shoulders to the floor to give him a better angle.

Cadze squatted over me, almost like sitting on my ass, his big poker skewered into me--taking me back up that wonderful mountain--a man fucking me! God, I love this! I loved Cadze's cock up inside me, but the real cockmaster in the room was Prandon. Even Cadze obeyed him, fucking me at the master's command. I wondered what else those two did in the locker room.

While Cadze lunged away, Prandon stood in front of me. "We're going to make that tight ass of yours a little looser, Nancy."

Wow, he's not finished with me! My pussy twitched as I heard that, and not from Cadze banging against my G-spot--he wasn't as good at it as Prandon. The Stud-kid reached down and scratched his balls and that magnificent cock, and damn, it started to swell. "You make me horny, Tom," I hissed.

"That's Mister Prandon to you."

"Mister Prandon."

Gradually his cock swelled up to poke out like a sword, and there, again, I was looking at the reason I was naked, on hands and knees, being fucked by another man. Prandon's cock was my real master.

Damn, he looked hot. I admired him with what was almost worship. His solid body glowed, light flickered from the coating of sweat. I stared open-mouthed as he scratched those low-hanging balls. Big balls. Breeding balls.

Finally he gave an order: "Cadze, roll over on your back and take her with you!"

Huh?

The coach backed off me, rolled over onto his back, then pulled me onto him, facing him, and he sank that big cock in me again. Yes! Prandon moved quickly to stand between Cadze's and my outstretched legs. Ohmigod, NO!

I felt the nudging pressure of Prandon's huge cock against my virgin asshole, and God, he's determined to get in!! I let out a scream as my tortured, stretched-past-reason rectum spread to accept the master's cock! It was worse than the pain of losing my cunt-cherry. 

I had two men in me at once! 

I was in agony, but at the back of my mind, past the reach of pain, I was in such a terrible, raging lust, I was going crazy. Two hard cocks are in me! Four big balls will be pumping jizz! My head sagged down limply beside Cadze's. God, I AM FUCKED!

"Ya--one--motherfuckin' cockslut--Nancy--" Prandon's voice was like the taste of his sweat--salty, bitter, but a tremendous male stimulation. "--coulda stopped me--(grunt! grunt!)--but ya didn't--ya wanted--me to breed ya--"

I looked back at him. He looked at me, gloating. The Alpha male.

I lurched on Cadze's belly, enjoying his big cock in me, and I heard myself begging. "Fuck me,--you bastards--double-fuck!--I love--two--big cocks!"

Prandon really took over, forcing a moan from me, and I looked back to watch the master as he performed. I was helpless. Totally submitted to the men in me, and I moaned again as I gave them all control. "Yeah--you bastards--fuck me--I'm--your bitch--fuck me to death!"

I rubbed the sweaty arms of both men, squeezing them, trying to show how turned on and grateful I was. And with both men humping, sweat soon covered all three of us. 

I don't know how long we fucked. A long, wonderful time. My asshole ached--I would have trouble sitting for a couple of days--but the god-awful ecstasy of being fucked by two big males was almost an orgasm in itself! I floated along as they thrust away, relaxing as they did all the physical work. 

Sweat ran into my eyes as I submitted to the big stallions. God, it's great to be their mare. I loved being their hole. My hand slid back and forth in the slimy sweat on their hairy arms, moaning and grunting, smelling their underarms and the powerful aroma of sex, of testicles, sperm, the rutting-bull odor that was a sex pheromone--a woman breathing that smell can't help but lube herself up for a mating.

I was on the edge of a full orgasm. "--Cumming--almost there--fuck me--FUCK ME, YOU BASTARDS!"

The schluck-schluck-schluck sounds gradually overwhelmed me, and gasping for air--I never thought I could do it with the incredible stretch of my asshole--I felt myself clinching around both their cocks as I melted into ecstasy, and that seemed to be some sort of trigger. Prandon raised himself off me as he dug deep, and as he placed both hands on my shoulders, I felt him dumping into me. 

"Yahhh, God!" Cadze bellowed, and I felt more sperm forced up my cunt. 

I was in heaven! Glowing like a light bulb. I heard the Beach Boys in my head, "Everybody's gone fucking! Fucking U-S-A!" 

Slowly we collapsed into a sweaty mass of hot, panting flesh, wallowing over each other as we wriggled through the last moments of our afterglows. I opened my eyes and looked back into Prandon's face. Total satisfaction. Done his job--I had been conquered. Defeated. Captured. Enslaved.

Beads of sweat dripped from his nose, and I leaned back to lick them away. I licked over his chin, and his cheeks. He slowly pushed up from me and settled back on his haunches, pulling out his cock, squatting to look at his new slave. 

Still connected to Cadze, I felt the coach's softening cock slip out, and immediately large gobs of white cum drooled out of both my cunt and asshole, and both felt like they still gaped the diameter of a golf ball. I rolled off him.

Prandon pulled his clothes back on while Cadze and I lay there naked, still purring, watching the master preparing to leave. We were both fucked out. Prandon grinned down at me. "You and Coach Cadze are a real pair."

Then he sauntered out of the room.

The Coach and I lay there for a couple more minutes, finally rolling toward each other. I looked at him. He looked at me. We kissed.

"TGIF," he said.

"Yeah. This has been a long week."

Jeez. So many weeks of zero and suddenly I'm in a Sexual Disneyland!

(to be continued)

~~~

~~~

~~~