7 comments/  27026 views/  28 favorites

The Head Master and Mistress Missy

By: Kethandra



Note:

After the recent arrests and publicity concerning Spenser Wainwright and wealthy socialite Missy Ellsworth, known through his published works as the 'Head Master and Mistress Missy', the following manuscript came to light. Now that a settlement had been reached with the Crookshank Academy, this work of fiction can be published. Crookshank admits no connection or liability associated with any of the many acts of sexual excess and 'training' of the 18- and 19-year old students of Wainwright's fictional Academy depicted here or elsewhere.

Based on court testimony and stylistic comparison to Wainwright's own popular series of 'porn lite' confessionals centered on the ribald adventures of the Head Master and Mistress Missy, written under the nom de plum of Dexter Wayne, it can only be assumed that the unnamed male protagonist of this manuscript is the author himself. It appears to details his first sexual encounter with a young Ellsworth and Gertrude 'Trudy' Maxwell, the un-indicted co-conspirator named in government filings who serves as the Academy's admissions officer.

We hope the reader will find this an interesting light shone on how the notorious program, and the Head Master's sordid career, may well have begun, years ago.

Update: with the surprise tossing of all charges against the accused by District Judge Miranda Harkins, Wainwright is again Dean at Crookshank and Ellsworth has retaken her seat on the Board of Trustees. The Academy reports the recent publicity has almost tripled the applicants to their post-graduate 'finishing training' program. 

The Head Master, A Beginning

- Unsigned, but presumed to be by Dexter Wayne

He slowed mid-step at the sounds of feminine laughter. Well, female laughter. One voice was feminine, a trilling of silver bells. The other, not so much. Loud, clear and distinct, it blended the honk of a goose with the bray of a cartoon burro.

Only one girl on campus had ever made a sound like that. She graduated last year and she had no business being in this dorm room tonight, the door closed. The entire floor should have been unoccupied. Except for last minute snowstorm and a canceled flight, he would have been the only resident in the sprawling brick building. And the single snow-stranded student with permission to be here would be the likely source of the silvery trills, not the barnyard horn blast.

Each wing of each dormitory, their pale pastel walls pocked with glassless doors like a cheap hotel hallway, ended in a faculty apartment. Most were occupied by families: couples, some with small children, primarily newer, younger teachers. His last minute hire at the college preparatory Crookshank Academy, mid-term nearly a year ago now, had included 'room and board' in the offer and he took over the two bedroom apartment previously inhabited by a couple with two kids, a mathematics instructor who had left on an abrupt academic sabbatical.

The dorm heat had been turned down for the ten day Christmas holiday. He had given the stranded senior, Missy Ellsworth, a small electric space heater from his closet before retreating to his apartment. A phone call from the Dean at just after nine that night inquiring about the unusual arrangement did not surprise him. Dean Kirby was a micromanaging busybody, but not one who would consider needlessly going outside into the bitter cold wind that carved the deep, powdery snow, still falling, into ever shifting drifts. 

The call had left him with strict instructions to have the girl only use a specific ceramic heater to ward off the frigid winter night. Anything else would void the insurance or something. The apartment had come with such a heater, but of course it had not been the one he had found and plugged in for her.

Now he stood, motionless, approved ceramic heater under one arm, in the heavy grey sweatshirt he'd gone back to his apartment for as soon as the chill of the unheated hallways hit him. The unique familiar sound honing his awareness, he noticed a faint line of wet spots, loose footprints, trailing down the hall, ending at this room.

Through and under the wooden door, the familiar braying laugh came again. It brought to his mind a memory from last Spring, at the conclusion of the regional track championships. They had been held at the academy for the first time, showcasing the brand new athletic complex.

The school's 4x100 relay team had managed a surprise Silver medal. One of the four on the raised podium stood out. Shorter than her three teammates, she noticeably filled her nylon tracksuit, top and bottom. Trudy Maxwell had been unofficially dubbed 'Trudy wit da Booty' but 'wit da Boobies' was also heard around campus when no disapproving ears might catch it.

The tall, rather severe looking woman representing the regional athletic commission presented Trudy with her medal last. As the curvy girl bowed her head to accept the ribbon being placed around her neck, her short bob of thick dark brown hair had fallen forward, hiding her face.

Jennifer Wise, the fastest member if the team and Trudy's good friend, gave a sudden loud honk. It didn't have the resonant quality of Trudy's reverberant laughter, but it had still carried. And it was answered.

Trudy was popular and friendly and uncruel, the last being a bit too unusual among her peers. The remaining two relay team members had not been alone when they added their own imitation of the distinct laugh. A chorus of affectionate hoots had come from dozens in the crowd.

The brunette's broad, bright smile when her head popped up in shock, catching the medal's ribbon at an awkward angle on one ear, had showed she didn't mind the public teasing. Then the official and Trudy had both reached for the ribbon at the same time, the pursed frustration pinching the tall blond's face a marked contrast to the short girl's beaming, infectious joy.

There'd been a tangle of hair and ribbon and hands before Trudy lost it, granting the assembled crowd a lesson in laughter. 

Braaaay. Honk. Bray. Honk honk honk. And repeat. 

As the crowd joined in, the official had finally managed a brief smile before a final, petty adjustment of the ribbon near Trudy's shoulder. 

He could still clearly recall the way the small tug had brought his eyes and many others to the suspended medal it shook, swinging free in the sizable crevice between the girl's round, full breasts, bouncing freely under her stretchy top with each hearty laugh.

Those full firm breasts. Pushed hard against his chest. That's what the sound of that laugh brought back most. Pushed tight against him as she stretched up on her toes and kissed him, tears in her eyes. 

Track season had ended. Graduation, a week away. Trudy had knocked on the door to his office, already ajar. Her fade was tight with fear.

"What's wrong, Trudy?" He saw the thick sheaf of typed paper in her hand, knew this was not a term paper issue. Though final versions were due Monday.

"My..my dad. He's...somebody shot him!" The tears released.

"What? Is he..." He knew Ellison Maxwell had recently been appointed Ambassador to Somewhere, reward for being a top campaign 'bundler' in the last presidential election. 

Her lower lip was pushed out, nose running. "They don't know if he'll make it."

He'd stood when she rushed in looking scared. His arms wrapped around her without a thought when she leaned into him, shaking, after she dropped the sheaf on his desk. He'd stroked her hair, tried not to think about the breasts nestled under his own chest. The firmest, most resisting breasts he could remember feeling. "Shhh."

She had looked up at him, face a smear of grief, his hand still alongside. "They shot my Daddy!"

He'd opened his mouth to say something. Something reassuring, comforting. Instead, Trudy kissed him, hard. Tongue, doubts, lips, fears, all unleashed in one fierce kiss. 

Then she had run, pausing at the doorway. Her words came out in a streak, muffled by the back of a hand wiping at her nose and eyes. "Gotta go the airport. I'll have the paper edited when we get back I hope. Thank you."

"Thank you." He didn't say it loudly, or before she was gone, and he was back in his seat, alone. He traced his lip with a fingertip where she had kissed. He could taste her still, feel how she'd pressed into him.

But Trudy had graduated last year; the kiss had been last spring. He had seen her at graduation, heard her father would survive, but they hadn't spoken more than a few public words. She was attending some small college in New England. Dartmouth? 

He hesitated outside the door. As the resident faculty, he had the full right to simply open it without warning. The key was in his pocket though students were instructed to not lock their doors as part of the school's deeply engrained Honor Code.

He knocked. "Missy? Dean Kirby insists we switch out your heater."

He heard an immediate rustling as he spoke, low panicked sounds of motion and furtive shushings. The universal code for "Quick! Hide!"

He turned the unlocked knob and entered.

Trudy Maxwell, she of the distinctive honking laugh and pneumatic chest and unexpected kissing, had graduated. Other than himself, he knew that the only person authorized to be in this dorm tonight was Missy Ellsworth. Her flight home for Christmas break, already delayed, had been cancelled due to the snow storm. Now the roads were closed too, with drifts almost burying some cars.

The Dean had told him there was nothing to be done until the streets were cleared. Missy would have to stay in the dorm, and as the teacher couple who supervised the girl's wing was away with family, he was responsible for her. He was solely responsible for Missy Ellsworth, all four foot, ten inch blond bundle of gymnastic, scholastic and sarcastic dynamite.

Missy was sitting up in bed, face flushed. No one else in sight. He could see her oversized Dartmouth shirt rise and fall with controlled breaths, like an athlete calming herself before a performance. 

On the desk chair, a hooded down jacket, damp with snowmelt, hung crumpled above a pair of rubber-bottomed, leather-topped 'Bean' boots. Water puddled on the old hardwood floor, forming a narrow moat around each boot. A few stubborn clumps of slushy snow still clung to the stitching connecting leather to rubber.

Her nervous, wide blue eyes were on his as he looked back at her, away from the wet gear.

He raised the heater he carried and his eyebrows, smiling. "The approved model. The Dean was adamant."

As if on cue, the heater to be replaced buzzed to life, the red glow of the elements quickly appearing through the front grill. He could smell the somehow stale smell of the ozone, like it killed any freshness in the air. 

He grimaced. "This one should smell better, at any rate."

He stepped toward the glowing heater on the floor next to her bed, where he had placed it earlier today.

"No!" He jerked to a stop, the ceramic heater, a smaller, sleeker package, suspended in both hands.

"Ah, um, can you put it over there?" A tiny hand pointed to the corner near her desk.

"Okaaay." He stood, looking at her, the desk area, back to her. "I'll need to clean up the water on the floor first. And I'll need to take the old heater, of course."

She made a involuntary, nervous glance down toward the floor by her bed. He had used the plug in the wall covered by her footboard, reaching under the bed when he'd turned it on earlier.

"Oh. I can get that..."

He cut her off. "Were you out in the storm recently?"

"What? No way." 

He set the new heater down on her neat desktop, stood next to the damp coat and boots and crossed his arms.

"Are you sure?" He paused until she opened her mouth to respond, then cut her off. "Remember, you and I are both bound by the Honor Code."

The sweet innocent little girl came out. The lower lip pushed forward, the outside of her eyes drooped as twin moist shimmer told of tears beginning to form. The response that had probably kept her out of all kinds of trouble with her daddy, Parker Ellsworth.

"Isn't your father on the Honor Board?" The pout deepened. The pout that might not be so effective on Daddy when he's sitting on a board to hear charges against his little girl. Even as he said it, he realized Eleanor Maxwell, Trudy's mother, was also on the Board. By the changing look on the blond gymnast's face, she shared his realization. 

"So think about your answer for a minute. And get your story straight in your head. I don't want to hear any lies from you, because that would put me in a very awkward situation. One in which I'd have no choice but to refer you to the Dean and the Board."

He picked the heater off the desk, stepped toward the foot of her bed. "I'll just switch out the heaters while you think things through."

Two girls made sudden sounds of protest, the second one being much fainter and clearly from under the bed. That sound registered only dimly though, as his eyes had caught a glimpse of something else. 

Missy had risen up on her knees when he moved toward the glowing heater. Immediately, she sat back down, pulling the Dartmouth shirt down around her tiny hips. She was wearing no underwear and he had seen a flash of thin, tangled hair, darker than on her head, and of a small indented groove below, spaced evenly between where two strong, lean little thighs began.

It took an inward shaking of his head to focus again on the noise from under the bed, his thoughts reluctant to let go of the image of the little gymnast's exposed crotch and flat lower belly, followed by the hard points of two nipples stretching the t-shirt as she pulled it down, too hard, to cover her upper thighs.

"Did you hear something?" He said it casually, but loud enough for anyone hiding to hear.

"Like what?" Smart girl. Answering a question with a question couldn't be a lie.

"Like someone hiding under a dorm bed, near where I need to plug in the new heater." At least neither made a sound. He waited. "Should I look?"

Blond hair vibrated at the tiny shake of her head. The tears threatened.

"Are you scared, Missy?" The nod was smaller than the shake had been. One tear rolled down her cheek after catching, stalling on the upper edge of her high cheekbone.

"I don't want to scare you." He raised his voice. "Trudy. Come out of there. Now."

Missy's mouth opened in a 'O' and a distinct squeak leaked out from under her.

"Trudy?" He impressed himself with his deep growl, exuding the mature authority he could still be made to tremble under.

"I can't." The voice sounded defeated.

"Do you need me to help you?"

"No!" Both girls cried out.

"Then come out here now, before this gets worse."

"She can't!" Two tiny fists pounded the mattress.

"Why not?"

Missy pressed her lips tight, struggling to frame an answer, unwilling to risk a direct lie that could put her in front of her public father.

"I'm naked." The reluctant answer from below. Resigned. "Could I at least have my shirt?"

He resisted a smile. "What's it look like?"

"Grey. It says Dartmouth in big green letters. It should be right there."

He looked at Missy, let the smile out. "Missy? Could you help Trudy with her shirt?"

Her pretty blue eyes bugged wide. Then they hardened. Not with anger, with determination. She set her small jaw with its cute little almost pointed chin.

Hands that had recently stretched the shirt down tight over her hips, now pulled it up and over her shoulders and head in one practiced crossed-arm motion. For an instant the young gymnast seemed to pause, the Dartmouth shirt stretched over her face and arms, her back arched, her nipples pointing out, hard and alone on her muscled but flat chest. Her abdominal muscles rippled, not simply the six pack down the center, but also the shifting moguls forming over and below her ribs.

He stared. She was gorgeous, a fantasy of fuckable fitness he had never been able to fulfill. The shirt came off. She held it in her lap, her chest exposed, and stared back at him, strong and defiant. Leaning over the edge of the bed, she tossed the shirt under it.

"Here ya go." The confident look disappeared in a deep shiver. The room was bitter even with the heater running. She slipped down, pulling the covers up to her chin, shivered again.

With a grunt, Trudy's dark hair appeared. Followed by shoulders, hands, arms. Another grunt when her full chest squeezed out from under the low wood bed. Her curvy hips required another wiggling push. She gave a single bray of laughter at she slipped free.

He got a quick glance of her bare bubble butt before she stood, pulling the shirt down much like the smaller blond girl had, facing him. On the bigger, curvier girl the attempt to cover up accentuated her breasts and called more attention to her smooth, naked legs.

He certainly hadn't forgotten Trudy's breasts, but in her absence it was easy to suppose that memories were faulty and subject to exaggeration. Not in her case.

With her college shirt stretched tight over them, he flashed to last year, Track singlet bouncing over the almost overfilled orbs. Many girls - well, some girls, and most of those didn't run sprints - had bigger breasts, but Trudy's were different. Like a ball inflated past the recommended range, the bounce changed. Not bigger, but stretched tight, full and extra firm in a way nature didn't often provide. A bra would impede their motion, their fluidity and bounce, might change their shape, but could not supply any additional loft or lift. The lift was built in. 

Currently, stitched-on letters "ART" and "OUT" each reshaped one breast, compressing it, managing to make them look even fuller as they met in the middle under M, while curves of Fibonacci-like grace formed past D and H. Even in the cold only the mere slightest of bump for each nipple showed, almost a shadow.

The nipple-shadows, and the resilient flesh around them, shook as a shudder passed through her. Bare feet shuffled in an almost-dance on the cold hardwood floor.

"Are you cold?" He had to say something, to take control. Too many times he had cum these past months, picturing this girl, remembering her pressed against him, her tongue eager against his. And, more recently, picturing the little blond now staring at him. At his crotch. At the uncomfortable bulge newly grown there.

Trudy nodded. Her teeth almost chattered. "Uh. Huh."

"Where are your clothes?"

A violent shudder past down her body, starting at her shoulders. The reflexive movement was enough for him to glance down and see dark hair in a small dim triangle for an instant. She looked around the small room. "They're..."

"For god's sake, get in here. You'll freeze." Missy lifted the side of the thick comforter and sheet that covered her. She made an effort to hide her naked body from him, but kept her attention on the girl. Trudy turned, listless, unsure. Missy's arm came up. "Come here, baby. Let me hold you."

Trudy slipped into the bed, into the smaller girl's arms, under the fluffy down. Missy held her, kissing alongside her brown hair. Her blue eyes looked up to find his. "Isn't this what you always wanted? To catch the two of us in bed?"

She lowered her eyes. Shifted down enough to kiss at Trudy's throat. For someone with such a harsh laugh, the cooing, purring sound of satisfaction she made was a surprise. The curvy graduate rolled onto her back, following Missy's nudges. He saw what could only be Trudy's knee moving the comforter toward him, legs spreading under the covers.

The small gymnast leaned over her, reaching one arm down in the direction of the region Trudy's knee had revealed. He had no trouble imaging details when the cooing sound rose in pitch, her face tightening at new, stronger sensations.

Blue eyes flashed back up. "Aren't you going to stop us? This should be reported immediately to the Dean."


The Head Master and Mistress Missy



The eyes left his, paused on his crotch long enough for him to be absolutely sure she had done so, then returned to the brunette. Missy moved under the covers and the Trudy's sweet face twisted. She let out a whine, hinting at protest.

"Trudy!" He saw eyes flutter when a tiny tongue ran from her collar bone, along her jaw, to just under her ear. "You're such a naughty, wet girl."

The tormented girl's mouth dropped open, releasing a series of grunting cries. Her eyes clamped shut. He pictured tiny fingers touching, circling, plunging in, giving rhythm to the cries.

"Yes, Baby. You like him watching, don't you?" A growling whisper, lips close at her ear. Nibbling. "You like him watching with that big boner you gave him."

The comforter rose as Trudy arched under the unseen touch. "That's a good girl. Fuck, you're wet! My horny big-boobed college girl. Kisses."

At the word, Trudy twisted immediately toward the smaller girl, lips eager. The kiss was hungry, almost frantic. Soft whimpers reached him through wetter sounds.

Then her head was back, mouth wide, back arched again. The cry was steady, high. He could see Missy's shoulder and upper arm, escaped from the bedcovers, tell-tailing the vigorous movement of her hand between her friend's legs.

"You gonna cum now? Thinking about that big cock so hard in his pants?" He was mesmerized by the knowing, confident seductress that was speaking out of this tiny teen's mouth.

Trudy's only answer was a slight warble to her cry. Her back stayed arched, her hips high off the bed. 

The small blond fixed her eyes again on him, not slowing her hand's motion, keeping Trudy at a fever's pitch.

"Sweetie?" The blond smiled up at him as she waited for a response.

"Huhhh?" It came out whining, as one longer panting breath in a series as the tension grew in her curvy, tormented body.

Blue eyes on him. "Do you want him to show you his cock? Will that make you cum like a good girl?"

"Ahhh!" The arch rose, the comforter showed how her legs shook under the strain. "Oh. Fuuuuck."

Eyes abandoning him, Missy took advantage of the higher, straining arch she had created. Trudy's response had raised her midsection - now shaking at a speed approaching vibration - and Missy's helping hand, high off the bed. With her other hand, she encouraged the Dartmouth shirt to follow gravity's lead downward, toward the brunette's head and gasping mouth.

The sheet and comforter were shouldered downward enough for his eyes and cold air to catch Trudy's straining belly exposed, then both full round breasts cleared the shirt, bouncing free. Tiny nipples crinkled in their centers.

"Well?" Brows furrowed as the eyes found him again. "Do you want to make her cum?"

"Uhn." He had not intended any sound to escape. He hadn't expected his body to shudder at her question. His hips stopped just shy of an actual thrust forward toward the bed and two girls, but he felt his hard cock, bound up in his pants, give a strong twitch.

Blue eyes dropped to his waist. The voice was softer, less in control. "Oh. Fuck. Yes."

Trudy's greenish brown eyes found the spot too, widened. He looked down, saw the wet spot forming, radiating outward from the clear shape of his cockhead.

"Show her. Show her what she did to you."

He was reaching for his fly. With no belt his fingers went to the button. The zipper came down.

Held back by knit cotton, his shape still managed to push out through the opening, pointing the bigger circle of wetness here out toward the two. His outline was clear through the thin fabric. A thumb hooked under the elastic band.

"You know you can't touch us. Right?" Again, the confidence in her voice slipped. The vulnerability brought him back to a modicum of his senses.

"We shouldn't be here. You shouldn't. Doing this." He stuttered it out.

The little gymnast giggled. "And you teach English?"

Below, Trudy joined her, snorting. The arch was gone but she was still breathing hard, those delicate little nipples scrunched in so hard on her exposed, oh-so-pneumatic breasts.

"We shouldn't be here, doing what, exactly?" She kept her eyes on him while snuggling tight against the darker haired girl, one arm still disappearing below the covers. "I'm supposed to be here. Freezing my tiny tits off.

"You're supposed to be here, bringing me superior heating technology." She paused to look theatrically puzzled.

"So it must be what we're doing here that is so wrong." She looked, lingering, at his crotch. "Like a teacher, unzipping his pants to show to young girls his raging hard cock, already leaking out precum?"

Trudy made a small noise, a squeak at the last word. Missy smiled. "Trudy likes precum. A lot. Shhh."

The last was to silence a murmur of protest from below. "She tells me she likes the look of it, she likes the feel of it, she likes the taste of it."

He gave another involuntary shudder.

"It wouldn't be good if anyone found out you unzipped your pants to show us your precum, would it?"

"No." His voice cracked. He stopped to gather enough spit to swallow. "It wouldn't be good at all."

"Then you know you can't touch us, right?"

"Very right."

"And it would be best if no one found out about any of this?"

"Right again."

"Agreed."

Her attention lowered. Trudy groaned, tensing and beginning to arch as the arm began its motion again. The blond nudged the comforter down with the side of her head, enough to fix her lips around the tiny, crinkled-cold center of a nipple.

He could not see the actual mouth on her nipple but he was transfixed with Trudy's face, her reaction. Eyes closed tight, mouth agape. A bright flush of red creeping up from her neck to flood her cheeks. Silent in her tension until the lips left her nipple with a loud pop. That brought a gasp.

Missy twisted her neck to look at him. "She's ready. Show her. Make her cum with me."

With me. The two of us. Making this beautiful girl explode in orgasm. Too many times he had released to fantasies not so appealingly perfect as this.

Thumbs scooped down under his waistband, then out, away from him. Down again and his cock popped free. He wasn't sure which girl made which sound. It didn't matter. Both their mouths dropped open. A hand shot out from under the covers. Trudy's.

She caught the end of a viscous shiny string as it stretched down from his swollen tip. He watched her twine the string, catching his clear leaked fluids on her slowly twirling fingers inches below his wet head.

Missy bit into her lower lip, staring. She didn't begin to touch Trudy again until the brunette had brought the slick fingers to her own mouth. When the cooing sounds returned between licks, a pink tongue appearing and disappearing as the curvy track star savored his precum, Missy's arm and hand surged into motion once more.

White teeth and a sucked in breath behind wet, slick fingers. The sudden inhale voiced a hint of the girl's laughing bray. Her eyes stayed open but the skin around them pulled tight, almost pained, more than a little panicked.

Missy's tiny frame rose up as her hand plunged between her friend's legs. The covers slid down, exposing her own naked upper half, hard nipples so much larger than Trudy's, though without a hint of the other girl's full breasts.

The curvier girl was fully exposed now, the comforter and sheet tangled over her thighs. Only a gymnast's small, strong hand hid her most intimate part. Her belly, her chest, all exposed by the arch returning to her back, thrusting her hips and the active, massaging, probing hand upward.

The combined tension was too much for the girl. Or finally enough. The insistent fingers. The raw exposure of her aroused body to the cold air and his staring, hungry eyes. That cock standing out almost over her, the taste of him still near on her lips. How hard he was. For her. Suddenly the cold was gone; she felt deep heat, radiant heat rush through her.

He saw the pressure build. Midsection rising from the bed, tiny nipples crinkled in tight under the double onslaught of the cold and her passion. A scarlet flush mottled her chest, filling in to a solid red as it spread upward. Throat next, then cheeks. Her ears and the rest of her face turning red last as her features clenched tight.

In other circumstances, seeing only the change come over her face, he might think she was choking. Here, naked hips shook, a vibration not too far short of convulsions, before a harsh, gutteral scream tore from deep inside her.

Someone listening outside the door might have recognized a common ancestor to the goose-honking exhalation part of Trudy's unique laugh in that scream. But there was no humor in it. She had lost control.

Her drowning eyes asked if she could survive, if this would ever end, if she would still be the same. They showed pained surprise, fear, panic, a near-religious ecstasy.

Unannounced and without any consultation, his body decided that this was an emergency and his seed was needed immediately. He came.

He hadn't even been aware of when his hand found his shaft. How many strokes it had made. Certainly not more than a few. The second spurt pulsed under his fingers followed by a third, a more rapid-fire succession than he expected.

His spray was wild, as frantic as his inspiration, climaxing below him. Almost clear, hot and runny, he splashed across Trudy's throat and jaw, her quivering full breasts, and finally, striping across Missy's flat chest and her upper arm, just slowing now. 

The little blond's face registered immediate shock. As a wet trickle descended her chest, carving a river's bend around the raised terrain of her large nipple to hurry down tickling at her ribs, the surprised "O" of her lips became a delighted, satisfied smile.

She stopped her hand after one last slow plunge, the ends of several fingers disappearing from view, making her friend squirm sideways now that she had relaxed enough for her hips to find the bed again. Dragging the hand up, Missy left a wide wet trail on the soft, smooth belly. Fingers, palm, the back of her hand all shone with Trudy's juices.

"Such a wet girl. You've never cum like that for me before." Teasing, but the hint of accusation was there.

The brunette's eyes fluttered. "I've never...that was the most...Wow." 

All three laughed.

"Sweetie, turn over. I want to show him how wet you are."

Trudy looked taken aback by the command. She hesitated. Missy's face, normally so cute and sweet, took on a hard edge.

"On all fours. Now. Show him your wet cunt." She didn't raise her voice. It was flat, emotionless. And he saw the effect it had on Trudy. She scrambled onto her hands and knees, her breasts swinging full beneath her she turned, pointing her plump, firm bottom directly toward him.

The insides of both thighs were clearly wet, shining with her juices. Exposed under her, the damp spot on the bed was nearly the size of his hand.

"See how wet she is?" The small hand slid down, tracing fingers between the girl's cheeks before curving in below. He clearly heard the moist sounds when the fingers massaged oval circles, just out of his sight.

"Oh fuck." Trudy lowered her head, pressing one cheek to the sheet covering the mattress. Missy continued the motion, looking at him.

"You're still so hard." He was. Rigid, as though he hadn't just exploded over both girls. It happened sometimes, like his body simply said 'No, sorry, I want more.'

"Once wasn't enough, huh?" He could see her eyes on his erection, her fingers languidly sliding in and out, disappearing under and between her friend's legs, no more than a foot from where a cloudy drop of cum was swelling at his tip.

Without breaking either contact, eyes or fingers, Missy lowered her head to her friend's back. She nestled the side of her face against the little dimples that marked Trudy's rounded cheeks becoming her leaner, more defined back.

Slim fingers eased out, hovered in the small space between them. Lovely blue eyes studied the slick, shining digits, waving like flowing seaweed.

Blue eyes unwavering, the slippery fingers reached out, found thicker moisture, catching the cloudy drop of cum as it eased down from his slit, filled to the point of being too heavy to support itself.

He grunted sharply as she touched him. Sudden sensation and three way contact. His most intimate juices mingled with Trudy Maxwell's, conveyed by Missy's talented fingers. Fingers that lingered now.

His breaths quickened as she explored his head, the prominent ridge that defined it. Then her touch was gone. He felt a mixture of relief and protest at the sudden loss, almost jealous when her saw the fingers again disappear between young, wet thighs. Not her own thighs.

Those thighs flexed. Missy's hand followed as Trudy's full hips pulled away, trying to stay with her. But the brunette was only pulling back for room, before shoving back against the touch, against the widening, opening penetration. The wet sounds grew and she shoved herself back on the hand again.

The fingers left. Trudy whined into the mattress. Her hips, abandoned in the air, wriggled in protest.

The little hand, sloppy wet from palm to fingertips, encircled his shaft. Or tried. Grasping as far as possible around him, she pumped the skin, feeling the small details, the small rises and valleys of his achingly rigid inner flesh. Down toward his base a fraction of an inch, then back up twice that small distance.

On the first pump up, her squeezing hand encouraging even more blood toward his already tight swollen head, her thumb traced directly along the underside of the shaft, gliding slickly, encouraging more than blood toward his tip.

He caught himself holding his breath, lost in those blue eyes so intent on the new bulging drop of cloudy fluid her hand was teasing out of him. He knew, distantly, faintly, that this should not be happening.

"I thought we agreed no touching." If it was his inner animal that had taken over without his participation, spraying cum over climaxing and naked nubiles earlier, this was the inner teacher, speaking out of his own volition. 

The eyes came up. The hand pumped down. Missy smiled as the hand returned upward. "I said you can't touch us. Nothing about touching you."

Two more pumps, small hand twisting as it travelled, pace quickening. Then gone. He held back almost all of his own protesting whine.

The little blond giggled before she slid her hand up inside the open thighs below her, found the center of wetness and pushed. Trudy's guffaw had followed Missy's. She understood his sudden loss. Her louder laugh cut off short as fingers filled her.

His hips leaned in, closer to the sopping sounds. His sensitive tip bumped against Missy's forearm as she rhythmically fingered her friend. The girl adjusted her shoulder position so that it happened again. So the contact could continue.

Keeping her fingers working in and out of her friend, she slid her free hand up Trudy's back to massage the base of her neck. And to pin her head to the bed. Lowering her own head, she kissed along the graceful spine held below her.

He watched, panting, almost dizzy, taking in the transient shadows indicating the flexing and relaxing of honed muscles of the the little gymnast's body. Still tingling with the feeling of that pumping, twisting, slippery hand. Almost more than the sights and feelings, the sounds of the sopping wet contact was driving him to distraction.

After a lingering kiss at very base of the spine, the blond twisted up to look at him. The twist brought one thick nipple into view, a nipple that would likely have his cum around it, drying.

It seemed to him to take an age from the time the little hand pulled out from between the smooth thighs, soaking, until the fingers wrapped as far as they could around him. Part of that time had been taken with her slicking as much as she could of Trudy's juices over his tender, fat cockhead. It almost buckled his knees.

Once her hand settled near his root she mouthed words at him, exaggerated, without any sound. "Fuck her. Fuck her for me."

Each silent "fuck" began with her straight, white front teeth biting into her beautiful, wide lip before reluctantly allowing the soft flesh to scrape free to speak. Her hand tugged him closer, aiming him down. He bent enough to allow her to point him between Trudy's legs.

She pulled up through the narrow space between his front and Trudy's upturned ass. His bulbous head dragged up over wet, slippery folds before finding the deeper center. The small arm worked him along and through her slit and then the fingers released.

He pushed. Trudy pushed back, like she had on the fingers. He was amazed at how tight she was after all the attention she had received. Hands gripping tight into the flare of her hips, he felt her bucking back on his every forward stroke, meeting him in the middle. 

The fourth stroke slapped her against his belly, his balls to her thighs. Buried deep. He paused, saw the cotton fitted sheet form two creased spirals, twisted around two grasping fists. Missy knelt, both hands on the back of the impaled girl's neck, massaging, holding, tangled stroking through the thick brown hair. He felt on the verge of hearing Trudy's silent, straining scream.

His eyes fixed, locked in. A tingle started at the base if his neck, began spreading down his spine. He pulled back, easing back out of this tight sheath before burying himself again.

The way Missy knelt, holding her friend, he could see directly between her open legs. His eyes had made it past the thin tangle of hair, past the pronounced rise of her mound. Then small petals, shining wet and barely parted that did him in. Twin petals twinkling between her tiny shiny thighs.

His mouth hung open. The tingle was nearer his groin. He could feel his balls pulled tight, eager and full. The petals shone, holding his gaze and his focus as he plunged into someone else. 

That someone else began to squirm, adding a twist to the angle he entered her, squeezing tighter around him, rubbing him a new way. His fingers dug deeper as his balls snugged in even more, ready to release. Underneath the soft, giving flesh of her hips in his grip he felt solid muscle clench and relax with each shove back onto him.

He moaned. Trudy must have felt a change come over him, through his cock, or his scent, or his sounds. It was a statement, not a question, when she spoke. "He's going to cum."

She twisted in Missy's hands, trying to look back at him. "I can feel it. God yes! Cum in my...Wha? Nooo!"

About to explode, he pulled back for one more deep thrust to bury himself inside her. At the same time, as she spoke, she leaned forward, prepared to shove herself back on him.

Then two things happened at once. The tip of his cock slipped out of her, just as he began his final pumping thrust, and - second - the lights went out. Actually, the electric power went out.

He felt, saw his sensitive, almost tingling length slide up, slick and shining, deep along the crack of her round ass. Then darkness, punctuated only by the dim, deep red glow of the heater's elements, fading quickly to black.

The unexpected, longer thrust forward threw him off balance. As the last red glow vanished he threw out both hands to catch himself from falling fully onto the two girls. His misaimed but forceful motion pushed Trudy down flat, dislodging Missy's hands from her neck.

Even as he fell forward into darkness, he felt his balls releasing. One hand found mattress, the other landed in a tangle of silky hair, the back of a small skull. He heard a gasp of surprise.

There was no thought to it, only reaction. He had been buried in a warm wet spot, about to cum. Suddenly and unexpectedly exposed, his instincts demanded return to the close, moist confines, to catch his seed.




The Head Master and Mistress Missy



A strong hand pulled the unseen head to him. Shoved it down over his cock just as he erupted. The gasp became a muffled protesting whine before it too was cut off by a wet choking cough. He held the head, the unseen mouth filled with his hard flesh, the silky soft hair between his fingers, until his pulsing slowed to a stop.

Having found his balance, resting on his knees, he kept the hand in her hair, massaging and stroking, holding the small head close against him, while the other hand stroked down a naked body in total darkness. Fingers found a hard nipple to roll and tease, standing out proud from a small, flat chest. 

Missy.

The hand slid down further, pushed between small, strong legs. Fingers found slickness and an opening. One slipped in, was seized, squeezed tight.

"Aaahhh!" The sound was dim, muffled, coming from a mouth overfilled. Small, frantic hands pushed his bigger one away, a single digit easing from her in the dark. The head shook, and he let it go, enjoying the last tickles of her blond hair escaping his grasp, his softening cock sliding out past her lips.

"You came in my mouth!"

"Wait. What?" Trudy spoke into the total darkness. "He came in your...where the fuck are you? Come here."

"Ow." Accompanied a sharp, almost hollow sound of collision. Teeth?

Then the sounds of kissing. Wet, sucking, tasting kissing. Kissing hungry for cum. After a break in the sounds and a deep inhale, "Brrrr. It's fucking freezing."

Trudy laughed, honking. "Hell yes it is."

He made a snap judgement. "The power is out. Who knows for how long. My apartment is the only place in the dorm with heat now; it's still got the old gravity fed heater. And a wood stove. Let's go." 

He stood, moving slowly to find the edge of the bed and the floor in the inky dark. The sound of his zipper closing sounded loud.

"Ahh. You put it away." Trudy whined, a smile clear in the sound of her voice. "After you took it away too soon."

"That was an accident." Even as he said, he wasn't sure if he meant the slip that had taken it away from her just as he was about to cum, or excusing his taking Missy's seductive suggestion to fuck the young former student in the first place. "Get dressed, girls."

"At least you still got his cum." Missy spoke up. He could hear rustling on the bed as they both moved. "Geez. You almost sucked my tongue off."

The answering chuckle held a hint of a a bray.

"That slut sure do like her cum." He pictured Missy shaking her head as she spoke in mock disgust.

"I can't help it." Trudy's voice was soft, almost a whisper. "Where the fuck are my clothes?"

He fished in his hip pocket for his key ring. Twisting one end of a small cylinder hanging on it, a slim beam of light shot out. He flicked the small flashlight around the room, enjoying the narrow spot highlighting two very different, but both very sexy, young bodies. 

"Missy," he let the light linger on her. "Give Trudy your robe. Her stuff's still wet with snowmelt. Pull some sweats on."

The swung the beam around, paused on a thick, off-white robe hanging on the back of the door. Trudy moved toward it and he let the light play over her, enjoying seeing those amazingly full breasts sway, those sweet, rounded hips he had so recently pulled back onto his cock, impaling the sweet tightness between them. The tops of her beautiful breasts pushed up against the exposed fabric of her Dartmouth shirt once she'd snugged the robe belt around her tapered waist.

The light left her, to help Missy dress. It found her tiny, muscled rear end bent over nearly double, a position comfortable for the long-time gymnast, as she fished in a pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. With the light's help she found sweat pants and a heavyweight school hoodie pullover. A small thrill passed through him as he watched her pull them on, not bothering with anything underneath.

She grabbed a large knapsack, began moving confidently about her ill-lit room, stuffing it. He used the light to help the dark-haired former track star instead.

"Grab your snow gear, Trudy." He left the illumination on her drying boots and coat, noticing with a silent laugh that a feeling of regretful guilt faded as soon as the light was on the clothes instead of the girls. He felt more the resourceful adult acting in an emergency, less the lecherous teacher taking advantage of young innocence and a position of power.

"By the way, Trudy, exactly how did you get here?"

"Snowshoes. It's only a block from my parents' house. I left them outside, by the fire exit."

"And aren't you going to be missed if you don't get home?"

"Nah. My folks are in Florida. I'm the only one at home. Their flight was cancelled too."

-----

Dim red emergency "EXIT" signs marked a path down the hallway. Shivering with the deepening cold, the two girls accompanied him, hurrying to his attached apartment, spurred on by the promise of heat. 

The scuffling sound of tiny sheepskin slippers on Missy's feet provided a soft counterpoint to her friend's clomping, unlaced hunting boots, pulled over bare legs and feet below the thick, ankle-length robe.

The girls hugged armloads of pillows and blankets. He shouldered the bulging knapsack and draped a damp coat and snow pants over one arm. His free hand held his keyring like a drawn sidearm, ready with either the flashlight - if the Exit signs somehow failed - or the right key, to quickly whisk them into the warmth.

And it was very warm. The wood stove radiated the deep warmth of well-banked coals of hot dry pine. They wouldn't last a night untended, but they could fill the apartment with too much heat for several hours, especially the main 'great' room.

"Oh god. Heat blessed heat." Missy dropped her armload of blankets and clothes, put her back close in front of the wood-stove. The little blond wiggled her rear in relief, her arms wrapped tight around her in her too-big athletic sweats.

Trudy clomped past her friend and the stove, bundled in the thick robe. "Heat's fine. But I have to pee."

He pointed down the hall. "Door on the left. Please ignore any mess."

"No worries." The brunette hurried that way.

Missy looked up at him with bold blue eyes. She took a step toward him, away from the heat.

"Getting too hot for you?" He surprised himself for asking it.

"I can't believe you groped me like that in the dark. Totally uninvited, just feeling me up. Not nice at all." She pouted up at him, eyes wide. Something in the pout drew him into taking the other step needed to bring them close. "And it wasn't an accident either, was it? Like cumming in my mouth."

He leaned down, his lips vibrating her ear. "Did you like it?"

She put her palm against his chest, didn't push him away. Her voice was petulant. "Nasty cum. Surprising me in the dark."

His lips caught more ear, nibbling as he whispered. "You like surprises in the dark. You like hands finding you, feeling you in the dark."

A shiver ran up her body. She spun, turning her back to him, then leaning back so his arms would catch, hold her. "It's scary." Her voice was small.

He moved under her ear, nuzzling close. One hand had found silky skin as it slipped around her, the smooth little valley at the front of her hip. The other hand joined it under the hem of her heavy top. "What's scares you? Knowing you can't stop me?"

"No. Knowing I won't stop you."

"But a nice boy would stop." His hands slipped around her, feather light on her lean strong belly. They moved up, each finding one lonely, hard nipple.

"Don't be nice." She pushed her slim hips back, leaned against him. "I'm tired of nice boys."

His right hand stayed where it was, cupping a nonexistent breast while he rolled and teased the erect protruding nipple between and under fingers, thumb, and palm. The left slid back down over smooth tight belly and lower, into her loose sweatpants. He had watched her pull them on over her bare round little ass and the open tiny groove he knew was beneath.

With his upper arm holding her close to him, fingers caressed over a small patch of low, thin hair before pushing between her thighs. Slick, open, swollen, she whimpered at his touch. Then tensed when his middle finger slid into her.

He stopped when her body clenched down, but stopping was not enough. The reaction was immediate and strong: keep the invader out. The one knuckle of one finger that had entered popped back out, leaving the pad of his middle finger alone between her soaked outer lips, massaging along a sealed, quivering seam.

Her moan was despairing. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't help it."

"Shh. It's okay." He started.

"Oh, Miss, did it happen again? Come here." Trudy cut him off. She pulled the smaller girl's head toward her shoulder. "Fuck guys, it is hot over here."

"Were you watching?"

"Of course."

"I should probably sit down." Missy said.

"I should probably go flush the toilet. And you should lay down girl. Not sit down." Trudy looked at him. "Get her to bed."

It was no effort to scoop up the little blond, cradle her through his open bedroom door and deposit her on the soft, unmade tangle of blankets. 

"Really, I am so sorry." Missy kept her arms clinging around his neck, held him close above her. Her eyes were pleading.

"Missy." He kept his voice a low, calm whisper. "It's okay. We'll go slow. But not too nice, just for you."

"Really?" Her smile was timid, completely unlike her usual confidence.

He leaned down, softly kissed her lips. The reaction surprised him. Missy's hands pulled him close, she whined, loud, into his mouth as she kissed him back, almost frantic. Her tongue pushed past his lips, exploring, tasting, demanding.

Slim, strong legs wrapped around him, locked him in close. Pulled down on top of her, he matched her kiss, her fever, with his own. They grunted, groaned, gasped in air when they could. Her legs rode up higher around his hips; his hips ground down between her thighs.

Trudy stood in the doorway, watching. One hand had slipped inside the thick robe, the cotton terry bringing her hints of Missy's scent, and begun to massage down between her own soaked thighs. She knew her tiny lover wasn't a literal virgin, but was close. The boy Missy had chosen was too quick, too nervous, in too much of a hurry. The little blond wasn't nearly ready and her body had reacted to the pain of the too-sudden entry, powerfully. 

Trudy watched the two sets of panting, kissing lips part, join for another lingering taste, part again. Missy's sweat shirt was pushed up around her shoulders. Her nipples stood out, hard and alone, on her flat chest. Then she cried out, arching up, as his lips seized one sensitive nub. Trudy could see his tongue making hard flicks across it, then exposed teeth seizing, tugging.

He seized the nipple in his lips again, stretching, pulling it up away from her before allowing it to escape with a 'pop'. The tiny blond writhed. He spoke, almost a growl. "I said, we'd go slow."

Trudy brayed her laugh at that, causing the two on the bed to turn. She joined them, crawling up alongside Missy. "I want some."

Leaning down, she wrapped her own lips around the other, ignored nipple. Trudy's motions were languid, licking, sucking, tasting, all taking her time, teasing the hard little body below her.

"Let's get this top off you." Trudy eased the thick sweatshirt up over her friend's head, exposing the toned, lean gymnast's body. Two mouths each found a nipple once more, setting off a series of whining, writhing cries from the little blond.

"Hey." Trudy's single word made him look up, letting Missy's hard, erect nipple slip from his lips, twist his neck to look at the speaker. The brunette's eyes stared back at him, their faces inches away. Trudy leaned closer and kissed him. It started slow, soft lips greeting one another, before tongues and passion took over. Neither was in a position to embrace the other, so they remained leaning over Missy from opposites sides, twisting so that their hungry kiss wouldn't break off. 

The little blond groaned. She watched the two others kiss above her intently, but stayed silent until Trudy's hand slipped down her friend's flat, toned belly, disappeared under the waistband of the baggy sweatpants. As a wiggling finger parted her soaked opening, teasing without attempting to enter, Missy's hips rose off the bed, seeking more contact, more touching. 

He looked down, pushed back from Trudy's kiss, up on his haunches to look down at them. On his back he could feel tendrils of the heat radiating from the hot stove leaking though the open door, without the intensity proximity brought. "I gotta see this."

Strong hands grabbed the waistband, tugged it down over Missy's hips. Trudy's hand, fingers moving, was exposed between the smaller girl's thighs. He continued pulling until the sweatpants were inside-out, off Missy, and tossed to the floor. The blond was entirely naked below him again, this time in his own bedroom.

With quick motions, he undid his own pants, stood at the foot of his bed to let them drop to the floor. He pulled his shirt over his head. Missy's hips were still raised off of the blankets as Trudy's fingers moved between her legs. But both girls stared at his cock, hard and stiff, pointing at them.

"Oh god." They both said the words together. A string of shining precum stretched down from the tip. As he climbed back on the bed, kneeling close between Missy's open legs, Trudy slid down closer, her eyes locked on the shimmering string. Her hand left off touching Missy, wrapped around the stiff shaft hovering almost straight above. Her gaze looked lost, almost hypnotized.

The slick hand, wet with the little blond's juices, pumped, encouraging more silver essence toward his tip, toward her tongue running up under his bulb, toward the lips that sealed around the opening, sucked. 

"Mmmhmm." Trudy's sound spoke of ecstasy and satisfaction.

"Oh. Fuck. Yes." His hand found the back of her head, held it in place as his hips rocked forward.

"Yeah!" Missy sounded shocked, pleased, watching what took place inches above her own wet opening. "Fuck that slutty mouth."

Trudy moaned at her friend's encouragement, and the more rapid, deeper thrusting into her mouth it brought on. When he pulled her head closer, bumping into the back of her mouth, she coughed, gagging. He held her there, allowing no retreat as she drew in a wet breath through her nose.

"Good girl. Swallow for me." His eyes rolled back at the sensation of the curvy brunette following his request, her throat and tongue muscles massaging his glans. "Swallow that little taste of cum and you might get some more."

The answering moan was louder, the eager actions around his cock increased. With one hand he stroked her back through the thick robe. It was not enough. "Missy. Help Trudy take this robe off."

He held the girl's mouth on him while they struggled to strip her down. Trudy lifted one arm after the other so the smaller girl could tug the heavy sleeves off by the cuffs.

"This too." The Dartmouth T came off, leaving every curve of Trudy's pneumatic body exposed. "Oh fuck. Yes."

She choked, spit escaping her lips in a thin spray when he shoved her head down hard, held it, his hips pulsing. Even gagged by his position, her squeal was loud and high when Missy's little hand began to work between her legs. 

They both fucked Trudy, front and back. Fingers and cock. Both felt the deep shaking start and build. Neither stopped or slowed their actions as the shaking became a repeated spasming clenching. They fucked her as she came, as she cried, as she shuddered between them.

"Fuckbabythatstheway." Missy's encouragement was a rapid-fire demand. "Swallowallyoucanget."

Trudy responded, gulping around him even as she came, as she moaned, her back torquing into a deep arc up, then down, held at each end by the dual penetrations.

"Nuhhh!" The brunette whined a protest in surprise when she was pushed down on her side, her mouth losing his cock. Missy scrambled to her knees. Again, his eyes locked on the little slit open between her strong, petite thighs, naked and in bed.

After pushing her friend out of her way, the blond focused on him. She growled. "On your back. Now. I want this fucking cock inside me."

He didn't argue. The gymnast's training showed in how she stepped over, straddling him. He drank in the tiny, firm, fit body, the crinkly-hard nipples alone on her chest as it rose and fell with rapid breaths. Her brows pulled in tight. Her lips open.

He was hard, he was slick, he was in her small hand and aiming up against her. The sensitive fat head spread her open as she dragged him along. They groaned together. Trudy scrambled close to watch.

Pointing him up at the center of her opening, Missy let her weight drop. Her blue eyes went wide, her mouth stretched open in strained silence. The head, or most of it, pushed up and in. He kept his hips motionless. She rose up, dropped down. His head was fully inside her, held there, squeezed tight. Like his finger in the dark after the power went out, as he pumped cum into her surprised little mouth.

Her wide eyes found him. "You're in. I can't...fuck, it's so much..." Her eyes rolled back up toward the ceiling. Slim hips rose again. She whispered, almost a prayer of concentration muttered to her self. "I can take a little more, I thin..." 

Her hips dropped. His head forced tight walls apart, edged deeper. "Nooo!"

Walls, body, rebelled. Trained and strong muscles of her core clenched around him, crushing, squeezing. Her light weight and tiny frame were no match. The pressure constricting around him tried to push the invader out. Instead, her muscles forced her own body up and off of him.

Her friend, Trudy, reached in, wrapping her hand around his shaft, keeping it pointed between the rebelling lips. The strain on her pretty young face and toned little body, the tight squeeze around his sensitive head, and, finally, the combination of Missy's powerful involuntary reaction and Trudy's helpful hand massaging his shaft while dragging his head between soaked spasming folds was too much.

The little blond squeezed once more with an anguished cry, forcing his head entirely out. Her panicked, pained desire and reflexes pushed him over. His cum pulsed up, out, through Trudy's slick encouraging hand. A hot strand of white striped up Missy's lean stomach, still clenching. The next shot wider, catching Trudy leaning close, running down one cheek and her chin. She gasped. She bent lower, closed her gasping lips around his head, sucked, swallowed, again.

"God damn it! It was in there! It felt huge and it hurt, but it was fucking in there." The little blond shook her head. He relaxed, unable to fully concentrate on her words or frustration while Trudy continued to clean and claim all his cum for her own, slurping her tongue and lips over and around his softening cock.

When Missy collapsed to one side, still upset, Trudy released him, now cum and juice free, to wrap her friend close and hold her. He took the opportunity to slip off of the bed. Grinning to himself, he shook his own head at the unexpected antics he'd encountered. He stoked the woodstove with more logs, opening the air vents to allow the fire to catch, burn bright. 

When the new logs were going he spun the cast iron knobs to almost close the vents. Air whistled through the narrow gaps as the roaring flames demanded more oxygen. Deprived of their air, they would burn slowly, radiating warmth through the heavy metal box until morning. When they would be dim orange coals buried in log-shaped ash.

He returned to the bedroom. He could barely see the form of bodies in his bed, buried under thick covers. One side of the blankets rose. "Get in between us."




The Head Master and Mistress Missy



It was Trudy's voice. Mainly by feel and touch. He slipped under the upraised covers. Trudy's soft, smooth naked body did not shrink away at all as he climbed over her. Her full, firm breasts dragged across his own chest without a hint of nipples. His thighs brushed over hers. Once past her he rolled onto his side, suddenly exhausted as adrenalin finally abandoned him. He felt Trudy's nakedness snuggled close to his back even while Missy's wiggled her own smaller body back against his front. Her tiny, round bottom snugged tight to him, his own still damp shaft finding a moist crack to settle into, his arm tugging her closer as it wrapped around her compact torso.

"You girls know the idea was for you to sleep in the spare room, right?"

"Right. And the rule was you can't touch us."

Honk.

-----

He woke up with a tiny smooth body pushed back against his front, spooning, his hand wrapped in two smaller ones, held to a flat chest. His bladder ached for attention. As he extracted his arm he heard an indecipherable murmur from under the blond hair, almost blue in the diffuse predawn light reflecting off the snow.

A soft hand from behind him traced a path along his flank, over one shoulder blade, massaged at the base of his neck. When he pushed himself up to slip out from between the two, the fingers curled and he felt four nails pressing into his skin. 

They scraped down his back as he rose, the pressure only flirting with the line beyond which four long red scratches might show superficial damage to the skin. He heard Trudy's arm fall back to the bed as her nails trailed off near the top of his own ass. 

In front of him, the tiny hands that had held his now pulled her pillow closer, tucked under her cheek. Missy's knees pulled up close when he tucked the lofty comforter in against the two girls where he had been, padded toward the hallway and much needed bathroom.

The piss took forever. It gave him a moment to think back on the last few whirlwind hours. A gust of wind pitched high outside, Nature's irony.

Until now, his biggest actual trespass of the sacred wall of teacher-student trust had been that too-brief kiss with an even younger Trudy, barely eighteen, a grief and fear fueled instant of passion. Thoughts, fantasies - of Trudy then, of her and others, including confident little Missy, since - didn't count as trespasses, no matter what Jimmy Carter says about it.

Finally drained, he shook off the last few drops, noticing he was starting to thicken as his sleepy body and reptile brain responded to his thoughts. He grinned at himself in the small mirror over the sink, rinsed his hands before splashing his face. Wet fingers combed back his hair; the grin grew.

The thrill of his violation rushed through him. He could be fired, blackballed from teaching. He had no savings or back-up plan. And none of that mattered a bit.

He had tasted something here, something forbidden and sweet. A hunger had been fed, validated but in no way sated. Now that an almost unacknowledged lock had been opened, he was unsure if he could allow it to be once again secured.

His night vision robbed by the bathroom light, he just noticed the closed bedroom door before he would have collided with it. Pulling up short, the rapid click of a stove pilot light made him start. After the round flame bloomed to life and was dialed down to a medium blue, Trudy turned to face him.

She had somehow found one of his white sleeveless undershirts. It fit her like a snug, almost translucent, scandalously short dress. Face unreadable in the poor lighting, he heard her voice, but only just. "Hi."

Silent, he let his hand drop from where it hovered, near the knob to the closed door.

"She sleeps like a hibernating log."

He stepped into the small kitchen, nearer to her. "I didn't know logs hibernated."

Dawn was beginning to brighten, or his yes to adjust. He could see a shyness, a doubt behind the challenge in her bright eyes. 

"There's a lot you don't know."

His hands found her hips, enjoyed feeling his shirt over her skin, her near-naked availability, here in his home, his lair. "Like what?"

Her arms slipped over his shoulders, around his neck. "Do you know how long I've wanted to kiss you again?"

"To the day and hour." Her eyed scrunched up, she looked almost tearful at his response. "You're not the only one."

He leaned forward, down. His nose stroked along hers. She made a small, almost whimpering noise. Pulling back, she looked up at him. "Can I ask one thing?"

"Of course."

She hesitated. "Will you kiss me? Last time I kissed you."

He nodded, silent. One hand rose to stroke her silky brown hair back from the side of her face. It settled behind her head while the other arm slipped around her narrow waist. He pulled her close. Her full breasts pushed into his chest and up as she rose on her toes. His lips found hers.

Neither hurried this time. Soft nibbles lingered before lips parted wide enough for the first tentative tastings of either's tongue. She made a small, sweet, almost sub-audible gasp when the tip of his first flicked over her upper lip. 

Another long minute passed before two tongues met. When they did, both held back, resisting the urge to devour the other. Her resistance crumbled first. 

With a urgent whine her kiss grew frantic, fingers entwining his hair as her tongue mirrored the action with his own. Her body pressed hard against him and he responded immediately, pulling her tight to him, matching her sudden fire.

He pinned her against the counter, arching her back over it. Both hands released her, braced behind and to either side of her body on the faded Formica. Lower bodies grinding close, her closely wrapped arms held her lips to his.

His swelling, thickening continued. When her bare legs opened slightly in the course of their grinding, full body kiss, he sprang up between her thighs. It was the first direct contact between these particular parts since he had slipped out of her when the the power and lights went out. When she had whined a despairing "Nooo.." into the sudden dark. 

Now she moaned a hungry, happy sound into his mouth. He stiffened, the head pushing deeper between her legs. They both felt the first small slip of his exploring flesh finding the beginning hints of her wetness. He pulled back enough to explore the spot again, find the wetness growing.

He whispered, lips against hers. "You want me inside you, little girl?"

She whined.

"You want me to cum inside of you?"

She whined louder, her hips twisting, thighs clenching around his shaft.

"Say it."

She whined again, lower body humping against him.

"Say it."

"Say what?" Her lips brushing his as she spoke sent a tingling down his spine.

"Tell me what you want." His tongue traced along the underside of her upper lip, puffy and swollen from their kisses.

"I want. I want you.."

He pulled back, slid one hand between them, used it to drag his head along her slick groove. "Go on. Tell me."

Her body shuddered. "I want you inside me."

"Good girl. That wasn't so difficult." His tip now slippery, he worked it through the tender, covering folds at the top of her opening. She moaned again. "Now tell me what you really want."

The moan changed to a whine. Her hips moved, encouraging the tip's touch. Hands grabbed into his hair, pulled his head back. Her face was fierce, flushed.

"Fuck me. Fuck me 'til you shoot your cum deep inside my fucking pussy." The words tumbled out rapid fire. "I want to feel your cum leak out of me, run down my thighs, all day today. Give..me..your..cum..dammit."

He pushed the head down until it slipped into the narrow, wet groove. His hips shoved her hard against the counter, forcing himself up and into her. Her hands abandoned his hair, arms wrapping him in close, crushing firm breasts between them.

Lips stayed close, parted, breathing each the other's breath, too distracted to kiss. The sound that escaped them belonged to neither one. It was a compound creation, both their cries blending into something unique, a resonant groaning chord of almost unbearable, overwhelmingly sudden sensation.

As good as it had felt to plunge into Trudy from behind at her friend's urgent demand, this was more. Much more. She wanted him, she wanted his cock, she wanted his cum. Her hunger for him fed the fire of his own deepest needs.

Bodies moved together to work him deeper. Her legs opened wider, thighs sliding up over his hips. Together still, they paused, panting. He was buried, all the way inside her; her legs wrapped tight to hold him there. 

He could feel the wetness now spread to her thighs, down between her cheeks.. The wetness that Missy had been so eager to show off. That had begun making that wet distinctive sound the last time his balls had slapped against her.

"Don't hold back. Gimme. Gimme what I want."

He brought a hand up to her chest, still rising and falling with her breaths. He cupped one breast, appreciating the solid heft of it. Running a thumb over the slight rise at its center, he teased circles around it, feeling only the merest hint of a nipple through the thin cotton knit.

"No. Please. Give it to me." In creating enough space to properly enjoy her wonderful breast, he had pulled back perhaps a third of his length from where it had been, buried fully. Now her hips pushed in, humping, trying to retake the lost territory. "I want you deep. Please."

Fingers squeezed, catching the center of the tiny rise, not sure if they had the point they sought. Fingers rolled the tender flesh between them. He smiled as her hips faltered.

His knees bent, tipping his own hips a fraction more under hers. He held her, preventing her from pushing herself deeper onto him. This change in angle brought his now very sensitive head against her curving upper surface, where he imagined curling, massaging fingers would find a wet crinkling spot of extremely responsive Trudy.

This was a spot he had found brought the reaction he wanted, on more girls than not, after he was taught its importance by a neighbor, very hot, and concurrently divorcing. The lesson had not come when she'd taken his virginity, but during one of the too few follow ups that had followed.

Pumps, short and focused, worked his swollen ridge over the spot. Her eyes rolling back, lids fluttering, confirmed the location.

"Ah...ahh...ahahahah." Tiny grunts matched his pumping, massaging strokes.

"UHH!" Without warning, he shove deep, stretching open her surprised walls. Then returned the ridge to its focus. 

"Ahahahah."

His hand left her breast, swept around to catch her as her back arched almost violently. He head rolled back, grinding side to side as the base of her skull massaged into her own upper shoulders, dark hair caught between. Her mouth hung open.

The tingling electricity ran down his own spine now, birthed at the base of his own skull, the crown of his own spine. His short quick deliberate strokes against her shortened even more.

A vibration against her secret spot, her crinkly tensioned tightness over-stimulating the sensitive flesh only partly protected by the swelling ridge of his head.

Her eyes were on him now. She saw the change, the effort it took to keep his own eyes from rolling back with his pleasure, with losing control. She knew and when she shoved her hips to him again, he slid deep. Together they forced open once more walls that had begun their own spasming, clenching effort to squeeze out the invader at the center of this climax.

"Grab my ass." Her voice was hoarse, her eyes desperate. "Grab my ass and fuck me 'til you cum."

She launched her arms around him, her legs locked around his waist. His hands grabbed her, caught her weight easily, slammed back into her to fill the deep space her move had briefly vacated.

She held enough of her weight that it was easy to fuck her the way she wanted. His fingers dug in deep to her, the backs of his hands the only contact with the counter.

She shook against him, firm breasts full to his chest, her cheek to his ear. Or he shook, and moved her with him. The thin wife beater was damp with sweat, the only thing between them. The electricity crackling down from his nape as his release began, he pulled her up and back for one final lunging thrust.

"I love you." 

Her soft but clear words were the last thing he expected to hear, except for the answer they brought. 

"I love you too." It came from behind him, and close. Missy.

Shocked as he was, it was too late to stop him thrusting, plunging onto Trudy.

Hard pebbles pressed low into his back, the opposite of the nipples his fingers had struggled to find. One small hand found his waist before stroking down. A brief appreciation of a hip before roaming in, between his straining cheeks and under.

Fingers almost tearing into her fleshy hips as he shoved up into her, he erupted in release just as Missy's exploration brought her touch into a position to most influence it.

He crushed Trudy into the counter, not feeling the hard edge that dug into his own wrists. As tiny fingers stroked his shrunken pulsing sack from behind, so sensitive and sudden it bordered on unbearable, the pad of a small thumb found the puckered depression just behind.

He roared, cumming again and again, caught between the two. The thumb hinted, teased, pressing with slow circles, but made no attempt to enter. The fingers stroked, encouraged as his balls pumped in a way he had never conceived, his vision constricting to a narrow cone of light.

He didn't immediately recognize the tightening arms around him, or hear the cry that challenged his own. Lost in the force of gates opening inside him, gates he didn't even know existed, he hardly had a chance to savor the beauty and strength of Trudy's own release.

Missy did. One tiny hand still confidently massaging him, nipples pushing into him, she whispered. "Yes. That's fucking it. Give her that cum she wants so bad."

A tongue licked up along his shoulder blade, over muscles roped with strain. "Cum, baby girl. That's it. Cum while you feel him pumping inside your tight little pussy. Pumping so much, so deep. Pumping you full of that seed you need."

The confident little blond's words cut through his haze. Trudy's answering scream as her orgasm redoubled in answer to her friend's commentary tore the fog asunder.

He was thankful the massaging hand retreated as his pulsing faded, holding more of Trudy's weight after her own limbs began to slip, relaxed and spent. He lifted her enough to ease her up onto the counter's edge, half seated. Her lips brushed over his and he felt a soft tease of tongue, a silent giggle as he slipped down and out of her, slick and heavy.

Then a small blond wedge levered in between them. Missy dragged her lithe little body, completely naked, against his until she was inside Trudy's knee. Her blue eyes, her self satisfied smile, her hard, prominent nipples dragging across his ribs, they all demanded his attention. 

He felt disloyal, almost, to Trudy, his focus seized by another girl within seconds of emptying himself inside her. His twinges of guilt were confirmed when he heard a distinct whine of protest from the girl on the counter. Or so he thought until he saw Trudy, pleading eyes locked on the little blond pressed against him.

"Come here, baby." Missy spoke, but didn't wait for a response. She spun between the recent lovers to face two full, quivering breasts capped with nipples physically the very opposite of her own. 

Where the smaller girl had the larger nipples by far, protruding at least the width of her middle finger when hard, like now, the curvier girl was flatter in this lone respect, a tiny nubbin barely rising at all above the flat plane of her half-dollar areola, even accentuated by the clinging white cotton.

From his point of view, Missy's spin stole away both girls. The blue eyes and hard nipples drilling into him and the soft curving whine already leaking his cum onto her thigh. Missy spun, fitting smoothly between legs that had been wrapped around him. Trudy's fingers twined through the blond hair, adoring eyes on the pixie face they framed. She repeated herself. "Come here."

He might have felt more than that quick pang, that 'Hey! What about me?' empty feeling, if it hadn't been for the other effect of her spin.

Slick, solid but now flexible, and at perhaps its most sensitive state, his cock was dragged, squeezed between his upper thigh and a marvelous continuum: from Trudy's soft, wet thigh to the tautness of a gymnast's upper abs, across the tiny, fit little midsection riding on the lubrication of her friend's recent sex. 

She completed the tour with her back against him, using him to draw a wet line marking the way to halfway point in her own circumnavigation. He shuddered, pulling back almost against his will, over-stimulated senses cringing at the too soon, too much contact. The electricity still crackled, near the top of his spine.

Missy completed her turn. He saw the sweet, strong little back arch below him, watched his heavy tip stop in one of her two distinct dimples, on either side of her small but muscular athlete's ass. Even without him being entirely erect she seemed tiny in comparison to him.

Sound drew him upward, away from a shimmering trail leading to a dimple and the divine. Sound the source of which he could not see but recognized and could pinpoint exactly. A second sound, from higher above, joined in.

Briefly, he and Trudy had harmonized, aching animal cries released into the mutual echo chambers of their open mouths, exiting as a shared chord with their mingled breaths. These two sounds now did nothing of the kind. They were distinct. There was no shared sensation. One was the giver and one the receiver. One the doer and one the done.

Missy's lips and tongue devoured the tiny, almost imperceptible nipple. He didn't need eyes to see what those sounds painted. Hungry lips and tongue attacking a firm, full breast and its minuscule tip. Small, strong hands held damp white knit shoved up, out of her way.

Trudy started with a low soft sound, almost a mewling. Then parts, perhaps, of speech. "N...n...f...f. O...o...nhh."

She started to shake, grabbing twisting fistfuls of blond hair. The slurping sound ceased for a breath. The head bobbed. Trudy whined, twingeing. He pictured a quick tongue flicking out, teasing a tiny nubbin. "I'm going to show you something."

He knew the words were for him, though Missy's mouth and eyes were hidden from him. 

"Nh-huh." The hands tugged at the blond hair, unsuccessfully.

She bobbed, licked again. "Something secret." 

Trudy squirmed. "Nuh...no..."

"Shush, sweetie." Trudy quieted at the command. "I'm not going to share anything really secret, anything you don't want me to."

He heard a soft kiss when the blond head bowed this time. 

"I'm sorry." Missy's voice was slow and sincere. Almost too sincere. "I didn't mean to scare you, baby. Come down here."

She moved back a step, encouraging Trudy down off the counter with a soft touch on one side. The girl's breasts pressed forward just above Missy as the bigger girl took her weight on her braced palms, straightening her arms before arching enough for her hips to slide off the bullnosed edge.

Missy stayed close as her friend slid down. She brought her free hand up, not softly, between two thighs. Trudy gasped, had no choice but to continue down onto the fingers, the hand that pushed immediately into her.

"Oh yes." Missy almost hissed it as Trudy's feet reached the floor. "Lots and lots of cum up there. Huh, sexy girl?"

Trudy's jaw was slack as she groaned. The muscles in Missy's tiny arm and shoulder flexed as her hand made small, determined circles. The other arm snaked around the slim waist above the flared, shaking hips. "Yeah. Just the way my slutty girl likes it."




The Head Master and Mistress Missy



Leaning Trudy back against the counter, hand working between her legs. She bent and flicked a tongue, one he could watch, slim and pointy and pink, over the center of the light brown half dollar. Trudy's slack jaw closed. Her eyes opened.

The hand circled, harder. "Full of hot fresh cum."

Trudy's lips pursed, a silent 'oooo.'

Pink tongue flicked again and he saw it now, the tiny raised center, a perfect rounded monolith in miniature. "And someone to suck her tender..."

Flick. The shoulder and arm slowed.

"Tasty..."

A softer, unhurried lick.

"Little nipples..."

Ever so gently, lips kissed a nibble around the tiny bump.

"Until you explode."

The arm moved, hand plunged up between shuddering thighs. Muscles began to flex with sudden rapid motion. The whole nipple, areola included, disappeared, sucked into her lips. A sharp pink tongue flashed out from under the seal briefly.

Trudy howled. Her lips stayed pursed, her eyes stayed open, staring up at nothing but the early morning light on the plaster ceiling. The sound was plaintive, despairing, a cry of the lost.

"no." It was a tiny word, barely voiced. She was panting, eyes wild when she finally looked down.

Missy smiled up at her, lips millimeters from the wet reddened nipple. She nodded. "Yes."

Trudy shook her head from side to side, eyes tight at their outside corners. 'no.' Her lips made the motion but there was no sound at all.

Missy nodded again, slowed. Blue eyes held the brown ones as lips found the nipple again. He could see the sharp little tongue working inside sucked-in cheeks. The brown eyes pleaded. Failed. Then squinted tight as she came.

Trudy's chest, neck, face flushed red. With the first deep spasm racking her, Missy spun the arching body, guided her back and down with a small but strong arm cinched around her waist while the other hand, now soaked, was still buried three fingers deep, clasping and massaging her pulsing center. Her erupting center.

He heard the sound of splashing on the floor before he saw the flood of juices leaking around the small hand. Watched the smaller girl, so agile and graceful as she lowered Trudy safely onto the pile of pillows and blankets they had deposited there last night.

On her back in a pile of softness, the dark haired girl let go.

"Oh. Yes. Sexy girl. You show us how much you like to cum." Missy kneeled above her, straddling one spread leg. He could see her little thumb, flicking, teasing, side to side, above where her fingers disappeared inside the now violently shaking body, rigidly arched above the piled pillows.

Trudy's shallow, rapid breaths had a dull voicing. "Uhuhuhuhuh. Uhhhhh!"

The last was sharper and signaled another outpouring of juices around Missy's fingers. 

"Poor baby just needed some hot cum up inside her." Forcing her fingers in deep, Missy grinned as more liquid squirted noisily out around them. As the climaxing girl below her gasped for air.

"There's more inside there, isn't there?" The hand slowed, feeling her. "You've been holding back."

The rhythm the fingers adopted was not too slow or too fast, but began deep and pulled back only an inch or less before pushing back in. Then out, halfway or more, for another deep return. Short, deep. Long, deep. Short. Long. Steady. Even.

"Oh god no. Please." Her arch returning, Trudy whispered it at the ceiling.

"No more holding back, sweetie."

"Please."

"Poor baby was so cruelly deprived last night. Isn't that right?"

"Uh."

"Isn't that right, baby?"

"Uh. Huh."

"Good girl." Missy reached out, let her flat downturned palm stroke over a quivering breast. Not squeezing, no fingers, her hand moved as though she might be rolling a ball of dough. She moved a second knee between the curvier girl's legs, spreading them wider.

"You wanted to feel his cum inside you so bad."

"Uh-huh."

"Cumslut."

"Uh-huh." Eyes closed tight, Trudy managed a pout. "Can't help it." 

"Cum. Cum, sweet baby!" Short. Short. Short. The pace almost doubled. Fucking her with a little pointed, folded-in hand. "Show him what a slut you are, how much you crave being filled up, feeling him pumping inside you. Show us."

She did. She screamed. Not a sharp, piercing scream, but a guttural hoarse howl. 

He felt himself rising. His breaths were shallow. Without deciding to, he stepped closer to the two on the floor. Part of the motivation was for a closer, better view now that Missy knelt directly between the spread legs. Legs now stretched out straight, straining in the air.

The howl lowered to a murmur; the legs began to move. Feet idly pedaled a large vague bicycle in the air as the overwhelmed girl panted, her hands squeezing handfuls of comforter, her eyes clamped shut.

He leaned over the crouched blond, saw the spreading wet spot she was encouraging with fingers still working into the source of the moisture, thumb working a slow massage just above.

The weight of his head changed as blood flow returned, starting with the extremity, inspired partly by the repeated orgasms of the sexy young graduate he was witnessing, but at least as much by the dominant, confident control of the tiny girl making her friend climax again and again.

Splitting two fingers in an upside-down peace sign, he wedged them around his base, shook the thickening shaft. With no sense of urgency he stroked himself, watching.

Missy's hand slowed, her touch lightened before it again disappeared from his view. She leaned forward enough to lower her lips over a nearly-smooth nipple, her gymnast's hips rising under him.. He heard the slow slurping, saw big brown eyes open. 

Trudy looked up at him, saw him looking, leaning close, stroking. Swelling. Her hands found the blond head, pulled it close, tucking it against her at the base of her throat. Arms wrapped around Missy, holding her close.

Planting a kiss on the girl's head, Trudy wrapped her legs behind the smaller ones kneeling close to her. Feet locked around the backs of knees, pulled them wider as arms held the tiny frame close.

Trudy stared up at him, grinning. She stroked blond hair. Her eyes dropped to his waist, saw what she wanted to find.

Teeth biting into lower lip, silent words shaped her lips. Familiar words. "Fuck her. Fuck her now."

The brown eyes dropped again, stayed on him. He stood out now, not fully filled and rigid, but heavy and perfect for what she intended. He dropped to his knees between Missy's spread legs, behind her. He saw her own glistening before his hand found it as it reached the top of one smooth inner thigh.

"Oh." High pitched, surprised. Trudy wrapped her arms tighter, held her usually dominant little lover tight.

"Ahh!" His hand had roamed up over a small, very round cheek before pausing while a thumb explored lower, again finding a slick invitation. He accepted, slipped inside. 

Missy squeezed tight around the thumb, squirming, held tight. The thumb pressed on, deeper, his fingers enjoying their journey into a magic valley, separated by two polished hemispheres.

She had offered up Trudy, unsuspecting, last night. Just now she had forced groping, tormenting hands on the protesting girl. She had touched his constricted sack, an unexpected invasion. He waited for her protest.

He waited in vain. She struggled, some. She whined, and growled, and made sounds that might be interpreted as unencouraging. A hand still stroking himself, he eased the thumb deeper with a constant pressure. He stopped only when he felt the its spreading base stretching, widening her.

Her breaths were deep. A ragged drawing in followed by an explosive, grunting exhale. "So. Fucking. Full."

He laughed. "Too rich."

She struggled then. He pulled the thumb from her and heard a surprised squeak. Then the hand was in the middle of her back, pinning her down. Trudy, under the smaller girl, grunted at the sudden pressure.

"I didn't mean you." She probably was too rich, most students the Academy were, but he was laughing at his thumb filling her up so. "It's about time you learned what fucking full feels like."

His stroking hand aimed his tip where his thumb had disappeared, where the twin globes tucked under into wet dark shadow. He had just cum, impossibly hard, inside Trudy. He had cum three times last night, and felt like he'd hardly slept. It surprised him he was up enough to stuff his way inside her, rather than feeling he was falling short of being fully erect.

Thumb and forefinger guided his puffy head to her opening, his shaft held straight by its passage through his hand. He hoped his flexibility would make this easier, for him and for her. He didn't want a repeat of last night's forcible reaction. He pushed forward and in.

Missy blew out a steady, concentrating breath, the athlete preparing for her vault onto the beam.

No wider than the spreading base of his thumb, the head entered smoothly. It met resistance almost immediately.

Twin impulses whispered to him, arguing. He didn't it went to hurt her, and nervous hesitation to cause a repeat was a distraction from his full arousal. Perhaps a good one, as he was at least part way inside this time, and no cries so far. The other side saw, smelled, heard, wanted to taste what was being offered. It wanted to pound into the little tease in front of him, pound her down into her sexy, curvy friend.

The hand pinning her down massaged tight-strung back muscles. "Relax, little girl."

He pushed, met the same contracting resistance. "I don't want to hurt you, Missy. Let go. Don't fight it."

She blew out another long breath. He pushed, and again, could feel his shaft flex in his hand rather than push deeper between her struggling walls.

"Relax, baby." Trudy whispered, kissed the side of a blond head. "Please."

He pushed once more, felt her body resist. His shaft and head seemed to be softening with the delay and distraction. Without any substantial force, he kept light pressure moving forward, pushing against girl.

"I love you, sweet girl. Open up for me, baby." Trudy again, her voice low and soothing, pleading. Almost aside, she added, "Oh fuck. He pumped so much cum up inside me."

Missy groaned. His head slid deeper; a breath blew out harder, sharper than before from below him. Leaning in close, he fed more inside her.

"Uhhhhhh!" The groan changed pitch, sounded of surrender, giving in. "It's really going in."

Trudy honked a short laugh at her petite friend. "That's the idea."

He felt himself swelling, stiffening again when he heard and felt the domineering blond give in. He pushed, now needing less support from his feeding thumb and fingers.

"Oh. Oh god." She blew air out of tight lips.

"Don't be scared: I won't stop." His smile was almost a sneer as he reassured her from a groundless fear.

"Uhhh!" She responded when he inched more inside her. "I...oh shit...I wasn't really...uh!...worried about that right now."

He sunk his fingers into the firm little hips, securing his grip. There was no room for his hand on his shaft now, and no need. He was almost all he way inside her and growing toward completely erect. He pushed forward while he pulled her back onto him. 

"Ahhhh!" Her ass hit his belly. He held her there, close to him. She squeezed, achingly tight, but her body not attempting to expel him like before. "So. Damn. Full."

Missy's voice was full too. Of wonder and surprise. He could see her clenched smile as Trudy held her head. He twitched, blood flowing, swelling him within her. With her held snugged against him, they both felt his head push walls aside deep inside her, felt him lengthen, thicken, grow, with nowhere to go but further up inside the tiny gymnast.

Holding her tight, his hips began to pulse. Tight, small thrusts, pulling back only a fraction of an inch before pushing in deep. Missy's groans began to match his pace. "Uhh. Uhh. Uhfuck yes. So...uh...full."

"Yeah. The little slut likes it." Trudy kissed her friend's forehead. "Don't you?"

Missy cranked her face up, found Trudy's lips to kiss. "Oh. Uhh! God yes." 

He watched the kiss renew, deepen. He pulled back more, thrust in harder. Fully erect, he fucked her tight, finally relinquishing little body. Muscles clenched down her back as the kiss, the moans explored the border between pleasure and overwhelming sensation.

Trudy shifted, her eyes finding his above the two girls. She slipped one hand between her body and the trimmer one above her. Her whisper was rapid, encouraging. "Do you wanna cum, little girl? Do you wanna cum with that nice, hard cock buried deep inside you?"

With her words, he felt her touch. Fingers worked the sopping spot where he entered Missy, forcing themselves into the narrow gap to massage the little blond's sensitive and overwhelmed pussy, two of them stroking in a V around the root of his rigid shaft. It reminded him of the reversed situation against the counter, with Missy stroking his sack from behind, and his filling Trudy's belly with wave after wave of his seed as she came around him. His balls pulled tight at the thought; he knew his own eruption was again imminent.

"Not nice. Uhh. Not nice at all." Missy gritted the whisper out, breathless.

He pulled back, allowing the V to stroke his cock until the fingers neared the ridge at the base of his head. Giving Missy's body no time to react and clamp down, he pulled her little hips back onto him immediately, shoving himself deep inside.

"Yeah, baby." Trudy's low voice continued. "Feel that? Feel how close that fat cock is to cumming deep inside you? Pumping you full of that delicious cum? And you know I'm going to suck it right back out of you."

Missy howled, at the combination of her friend's words and the overwhelming sensation of him again pulling back, again impaling and stretching her wide, full, open.

He heard a rushing roar behind his eyes, inside his head. A tingling grew down his spine, increasing its volume and intensity. His balls were sucked tight up against him. His breaths were ragged, barely conscious gasps as he plunged into her hard a third time, her howl increasing in volume and pitch. Trudy's fingers worked faster.

"That's it, sweetheart. Cum for me." Trudy's eyes again locked on his. "Do it. Fucking fill her little twat with your cum. Now."

Somehow he did. He erupted on command, pinning her hips back to him, holding himself buried as deep as possible as his body pumped stream after stream inside her.

Missy's cry dropped off into a series of low grunting moans as her own orgasm joined his. "Nuhhh. Uhh. Uhh. Nuuuuhhh!"

Looking down, it seemed as though every muscle in her athlete's body fired at once, spasming along with the tight clenches he felt crushing his still-pumping shaft. She squeezed hard around him, but the spasming walls now milked him, almost begging for more, rather than crushing, attempting to force the invader out.

"Ohh!" Trudy's lungs were forcibly compressed when the other two collapsed on top of her, spent. He rolled to one side, one hand still pinning Missy close to him, rolling her with him so he'd spoon behind her, tiny shuddering spasms continuing to tease him inside her. Trudy rolled onto her side, keeping the two girls' faces close. 

They kissed. Soft, open, moist. Missy's voice was unusually hesitant. "I think I'm gonna be sore."

Honk. Trudy laughed. He reached out, past the little form impaled on him, stroked down over the brunette's smooth, soft curves. 

He chuckled along with her, then jumped when the telephone rang. Missy squealed in surprise as he slipped out of her, making Trudy honk again. The sound cut off when she saw him stand: still full and thick, shining slick. Trudy licked her lips, pulled the little blond even closer. Missy tilted her head for another soft kiss.

"Shhh." He stepped to where the phone hung on the kitchen wall, gave them a stern look.

"Yes, Dean. With no heat, I had to put her in my spare room. She's sleeping now.

"No. No, Dean. She's actually been surprisingly good."

Missy looked as though she was going to pipe up and protest. Trudy put a finger to the blond's lips. Playfully, Missy tried to bite it.

"Six? Alright. I'll make sure she's ready."

"No. No, really. It has not been a problem."

"You too. Thank you. Stay warm." He hung up the phone.

"What? What problem? What's a surprise?" Missy stood on her knees, fists on hips, tiny naked body on display.

"Nothing." He ruffled blond hair. She pulled away, trying to look indignant. He sank down on the pile of blankets, snuggling in behind Trudy's curvy rear. Missy glared at him. "I was just teasing you. Dean Witherspoon just thanked me for my extra, unexpected dorm duty.

"Now the news. Missy, your flight is back on for tonight. The roads are scheduled to be cleared and Coach McClellan will drive you to the airport in his Bronco. The Dean said he'll be here to pick you up six."

"Six tonight?" 

He nodded, looking at the wall clock. "Almost twelve hours from now."

Trudy considered with her chin in one hand, nodded her own agreement. "That's enough time."

"For what?" Missy's indignance was replaced with curiosity.

Trudy yawned. "For us all to take a nap. And then for me to get this old-timer hard again and watch him fuck you another time. I gotta make sure that last one wasn't a fluke."

Missy squealed, falling back on the pile of blankets when Trudy slipped a hand up between her thighs. They both laughed, the little blond's soft tinkle all but drowned out by the brunette's happy honking bray. Even in play, the smaller gymnast ended up on top of Trudy.

He smiled as he swung open the heavy iron door of the stove, added split pine. A hand snaked in to tilt one piece of wood up enough for more air, more quickening oxygen, to draft under and around the new fuel once the vent was opened and the door shut tight. 

When he stood, the growing fire roared, whistling more air through the narrow vent. Rising heat sent soft pings from the expanding joints in the black metal stovepipe as turned back to the girls.

The End

Postscript:

Don't believe everything you read. It may say 'fiction' but turn out factual. And many well-known facts are total fiction. But in this case, I can confirm that the above fiction is my writing. Not surprising, as it was taken from my desk during an illegal search. It may even include bits that are true.

I appreciate the outpouring of support during my brief exile to my own literary and legal Elba. I am hopeful that we will soon have your favorite adventures of Mistress Missy and the Head Master available again in both print and digital editions as well as some exciting new ones, based on what Trudy reports on the new recruiting class.

In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this 'origin story'. If you did, vote, comment, let Kethandra know you want more. And may your holiday be as memorable as the above one was for a certain snowed-in young teacher.

- Dexter Wayne, called the Head Master