8 comments/ 205213 views/ 47 favorites Wet Dreams Really Do Cum True By: drkgod Mrs. Malone sat at her desk, her eyes staring at the young man in front of her. There he was the object of her newborn sexual wish, her hottest and wettest desires for the past few nights, standing like a young black god, in the flesh, his dark black skin shining under her office's fluorescent office lights. Shocked as she was at the boldness of the boy, whose confidence she admired, her body tensed and for what seemed like an eternity of breathing she watched in lucid delight as the boy's strong, dark penis head peeked out from it' quickly rose to its full girth. 'Oh myyyyyyyy... ' was all that she could whisper to herself as the bold young man's penis drooled, pointing directly at her. Yet what was this other thing that she was feeling? Could it be that she actually felt flattered that this young sexy black boy actually lusted for her, a middle-aged school marm; of all people in the school, hell even the town that he could have had? She knew of many of the young girls his age who threw themselves at him. Yet, right then, as he walked towards her, making his way closer to her, the object of his growing lustful desire for the past semester, it dawned on her that she was ready to submit to the ultimate yearning that she had never felt before—pure lust! * * * * * And like a flash in the matrix of her brain, she harkened back to that fateful beginning point in which she had her first run in with the Senior Varsity safety Daquan Johnson. He had been brought to her school this year by the new redistricting that was done to her previously lily white, upscale, suburban district that lay just outside the city. It actually benefited the school in that the athletic department had greatly improved its sports this year. Although she was never a fan of the plan to bring in "inner city" youth to give them the same opportunities as the privileged white communities, though she wasn't a "racist", she saw herself as a concerned mom and member of the community which she did not wished spoiled by the lower classes. Hers was the life ideally marketed, with a loving husband faithfully married to her since their college days in the seventies, and twenty-five years of an ideal life where she could watch her kids grow. This being a town where football was king and athletics were prided upon she was as excited as all of the others were in the revamping of the athletic department, even if it meant having to bus in "apartment" kids from the inner city. Ann Malone had spent the last twenty years teaching in the Cambridge Hills school district, where the biggest problem throughout her tenure there was truancy and the occasional dress code violation. She enjoyed teaching middle school in the district, but when the opportunity arose last year to become vice-principal at Clements high school she took it. Being able to keep an eye on her younger teenage children, Brandon and Alicia, was an added incentive and also made her feel more in control of her life. She had to admit to herself that she was a bit of a control freak as her family liked to point out, that's probably why she became a school administrator in the first place, she enjoyed the power that she had in shaping and influencing young minds, but she was not afraid to wield a punishment or two when she had to; must have been from the strict way she was raised. At 52 she had dealt with many a smart ass kid since working her way up as a History teacher to her current VP position. And soon she knew that she would eventually get the head job when old Mrs. Wilson retired. Life could not have been better career wise, and on the family front, she had just become a grandmother for the first time after her oldest daughter gave birth to a baby boy that summer. She enjoyed seeing her twenty-seven year old daughter Rebecca experience the joys of motherhood for the first time. All of those idealistic thoughts soon changed, when the inevitable happened. Her school got redistricted that fall due to the liberal politicians in the capital, and now Clements was going to get its first dose of inner city life. 'Oh well', she thought, 'guess that I'll have to just make sure that they stay in line and don't turn my school into a ghetto'. Everyday that fall she walked the halls of the school, observing, watching, and helping the newer minority kids, who were mostly black, as they familiarized themselves with the school. Most of the students were respectful of her authority and obeyed when they were told to do things. However, she did tend to often feel uncomfortable in trying to be the authority figure when it came to some of the unruly boys, many of whom joined the football team. To her these young men seemed arrogant, and always with a chip on their soldier. Ann's views were sternly with the persuasion of most middle-American moms, that too many black kids would ruin her school. They also seemed even more fit in stature and strength then the school's original all white football roster of the previous year. Understandably she was a bit nervous those first few weeks when dealing with the new young black men's attitudes. Her mind would occasionally romanticize a bit about some of the history books that she read over the years about the southern antebellum way of life. She usually placed herself in the character of the head lady of the plantation, the mistress if you will, watching over the slaves. Most of her teaching career was spent teaching her neighbor's children whom she knew, and had watched grow up over the years. They knew that they had to respect her, because Mrs. Malone knew all of their mothers and fathers. Now, she had to deal with these young "urban" students, street kids, who she felt were not as well mannered as she was accustomed to. She wasn't going to let these kids getaway with acting bad. It was almost comical to watch the demure, conservative, middle-aged white woman, who was no more then 5'5" and a recent grandmother, in the hallways reprimanding the physically imposing male black students who were twice her size. * * * * * At eighteen years old, Senior Daquan Johnson was a ladies man. He had lost his virginity to one of the "hood rats" in his neighborhood when he was still in middle school. His uncle and brothers had openly taught him about the kinkier sides of sex. He laughed truthfully at the family BBQ's when one of his uncles would drunkenly brag about having big dicks and how big dicks run in the family. In his neighborhood high school he had the pick of all the finest girls in the school. He loved the black girls that went to school with him, but he often wondered what the social taboo of dating white girls was like. At his old all black school, he would often sit in class and day dream about some of the cute white cheerleaders that he often saw, jumping up and down for the losing team on the opponent's sideline. When his neighborhood got redistricted to the suburbs his senior year, he became even more abandoned towards his fantasy. After being educated by old black ladies in the city for most of his life, the lily white scenery of the pretty white girls and especially the teachers of the Cambridge Hills school district was not only a culture shock to his senses, but also to his blossoming libido, which by now was giving him some of the best wet dreams that he had in his young life. A lot of his most recent dreams centered on fucking the cute white girls that he now went to school with, but after a few months during that fall semester, those dreams started to change, as he became more acquainted with the school's faculty and staff. He noticed a lot of the teachers around school and many of his new white classmate's moms, which were the typical suburban "soccer mom" type who dressed conservatively, and enjoyed the prototype family values lifestyle that the suburbs offered. Most were middle-aged and still looked pretty good to Daquan. By October his lust filled dreams of the cheerleaders started to morph into dreams of their soccer moms who would sit in the stands. More often then not his mind would wonder in his classes as he sat watching some of his older teachers. He was turned on by some of the ladies that were instructing him. What really started to trip him out was that the various teachers in his dreams were ones that were a bit on the elder side, the ones that were more school marm like. He soon began to desire the more mature ladies that worked at the school with their conservative dresses and their plump middle-aged white asses walking down the hall in their professional pant suits and unassuming heels, and leading their middle class bourgeois lifestyles. All of his perceptions matched the ones that he usually saw marketed on family sitcoms which produced images of the perfect life that sure wasn't where he was from. His young cock would be rock hard by the end of class after dreaming of having his way with one of them on their desks and in different parts of the school. He often pondered upon what their sex lives were like, most often coming to the conclusion that they probably had never even imagined or experienced some of the sexual things that he was experienced in and would like to do to them. He knew he couldn't share his sexy dreams in the locker room with all of the other guys. He felt that his fantasies were a bit weird compared to the others, more on the kinky side then most of his boys and that they would probably laugh at him or ridicule him if he revealed his deepest desires, because his fantasies didn't involve all of the usual suspects like the hottest girls in the school and sexy actresses or Playboy playmates and shit like that. Daquan's dreams were about having hot, raunchy sex, with white women, older ones at that. The ones that the other guys would call an "old bitch" or something, and never look twice at, but these were the ladies that were starting to rev up his youthful dreams. Now, as he watched old Nick at Night episodes, he imagined himself seducing the TV moms from shows like 'the Wonder Years' and 'Home Improvement', imagining making love to them and having their sexy white legs wrapped around his smooth black ass... but they weren't real. What was real were the real ladies that worked at Clements high school, and he knew that he had to try and take advantage of an opportunity. One of them was going to be his prize conquest. * * * * * The morning started out like any other day for Ann Malone and Daquan Johnson. The buses showed up in the morning promptly at 8 and the students had 45 minutes to kill before the bell for schooled started. Naturally everyone congregated in the cafeteria where students could eat some breakfast before their school day began. Mrs. Malone had morning duty and as usual she just looked around to make sure that the students weren't being unruly, making the rounds in her professional and authoritative pants suit. All of a sudden there was a large crash and a commotion, a fight had broken out. Ann got on her walkie-talkie for the school security and rushed over to see what was happening and who was involved. All she could see was a shirtless black kid standing over a white student and beating the hell out of him in the middle of the cafeteria while others kids were cheering and yelling. Some of the male teachers broke up the fight and after the end of the mêlée; Ann saw that it was Brian Booth, a rather skinny, arrogant kid from the neighborhood, who's father worked with her husband Paul at the local law firm, and Daquan Johnson, the new star defensive safety. After dispersing the crowd of students that surrounded them, Ann turned to the situation, where she listened to what had caused the fight. Apparently Daquan didn't like the fact that Brian was speaking bad about him because so many of the white girl's, including his own girlfriend wanted to know him better, naturally being the new kid Daquan had to stand up for himself. Yet, all through his explanation of what caused the fight, she could not stop from observing the black athlete's muscular ebony chest, which was bare due to him taking it off before he started to fight. Ann was entranced at the shining way his chocolate like features heaved up and down as Daquan went through the process of calming down. She was snapped out of her critiquing admiration of his Adonis like body, by Mrs. Wilson the principal, asking "Is he yours?" Ann was so caught up in admiring the eighteen year old's 6'2" frame that she couldn't hear the question at first. "Mrs. Malone? Is he yours?" she asked again. "Uh, yes. He falls in my discipline function." The VP answered, recalling that she had had to discipline Daquan in the halls recently for smaller infractions. "Then take Daquan, and I'll write up Brain." The principal delegated. Mrs. Malone walked up the hall to her office thinking about what she was going to give Daquan as a punishment. She knew that this kind of behavior could not be tolerated, nor could she let these arrogant young black kids think that they can do what ever they want at the school. She was stern as she escorted Daquan down to her office, knowing that she must punish him for hurting one of her students and knowing that she had to let him know that just because he is new and a star athlete does not excuse him from abiding by the rules of her school. Indeed, the authoritative woman believed that it was her school and she was not going to let this thug like black kid come in from the "ghetto", wreak havoc and bring violence into the school. Yet, as she turned around to open the door for him she noticed something unsettling. That his eyes were very serious and powerful and were inexplicably focused on her from the waist down, as if his glare was focused on her lower extremities. If she didn't know any better she might have thought that he was checking her body out. Once in her office she noticed that he still had no shirt on. She felt a bit intimidated being in such close quarters with the young athlete as he sat in front of her desk. Mrs. Malone put on her thick, unflaterring reading glasses and kept her eyes lowered to her desk and tried to focus on what she was writing. But, her mind drifted as she noticed the masculine smell that was coming from Daquan's bare chest body and now invaded her nostrils with a pungent aroma of male heat, an aroma that she had never smelled before. Ann had to adjust herself in her chair as she began to feel warm and even more uncomfortable with the presence of the angry young black man that was sitting in front of her, his eyes not dropping their intensity as he watched the auburn hair woman write for five minutes straight. KNOCK, KNOCK!! The silent tension in the room was broken when the hall monitor brought in Daquan's letterman's jacket for him to put on. "Mr. Johnson, you have two options. You can take a suspension... " "Suspension!" "But that will ruin my playing time and my prospects for scholarship." He angrily cut in. "Let me finish sir!" She said raising her voice in a stern tone. "Your other option is to cut out of practice early every day for the next few weeks and come to my office and work on your class work for an hour and a half in silence." Daquan dropped his head in thought for a moment and then looked up and locked eyes with Ann, at that moment his young dick twitched. He liked the way the way she looked at him from her desk, with her huge old lady like glasses perched on the tip of her prominent nose. "Okay." He replied. "Very well then, I will inform the coach about our arrangement. School lets out at 2:30 and your practice starts at 3 correct?" "Yes" He mumbled. "Yes what?" She asked the impudent young man. Daquan looked at her again only this time with obvious distain in his eyes. "Yes-mam." He answered. "I will allow you to practice for an hour and I expect you hear at 4'o clock sharp young man, and if you are late once then I will revoke this option and suspend you. This being Friday you will start your time on Monday." Daquan just sat in silence. And with that command, she dismissed Daquan from her office. She took off her glasses and took a deep breath as she relaxed for a bit in her office chair. Looking down at her chest she noticed that her nipples were erect and protruding behind the thin material of her blouse. * * * * * That day after school Ann tried to catch up on the mountain of paperwork that she had on her desk. Being a VP meant having to stay a few extra hours in the day to catch up on all of the work that had piled up. At 4 her secretary popped into her office and said good-bye. For the next hour Ann tried to concentrate on her work, yet she paused every once in a while and thought about what had transpired earlier in the morning with Daquan. She remembered the pungent aroma that his body gave off and the chiseled body that he had, like a sculpted Roman god made of Onyx. She didn't let herself believe that deep down Daquan actually was a very handsome boy--man really since he was built so well and was only eighteen, then she broke her trance and went back to work. At 5:30 she packed up her things and locked up her office to rush home and start dinner for her family, but first she had to stop by the coach's office in the gym to speak with Coach Wray and inform him of Daquan's disciplinary situation. Figuring that football practice was over at 5 she thought that all of the players had gone home and that Coach Wray would probably be cleaning up a bit and getting ready to go home himself. She looked into the window of the office which faced the gym and saw that no one was there, but that the lights to the locker room were still on. 'He's probably in the locker room cleaning up' she thought, so she made her way into the boy's locker room to find the Coach. She had been in the girl's locker room plenty of times, but this was the first time that she walked into the boy's locker room. The aroma of masculinity once again permeated her olfactory senses, as she slowly made her way down the rows of lockers. It was very quite and cool in the room. She became startled as she heard a locker slam shut at the end of the rows. Thinking that it must be the coach putting away football equipment, she walked over to the row that the sound came from. As she turned the corner her feet abruptly stopped, and her body froze up as her eyes widened and locked in on the naked bare black ass of a man who was putting his towel away into his locker. A gasp escaped the tiny woman's lips causing the man to turn to her. It was Daquan, stark naked, his body still glistening with the beads of water from the shower that he had taken. He stood there looking at Mrs. Malone staring at him, not saying a word, but her face showing her shock at seeing the young man naked, his flaccid penis resting between his muscled thighs, a thick vein running down its length, hanging low over a tangerine sized dark sack. Her eyes glued to his crotch, and in an instant felt her heart pound and drop to her stomach, thus causing her bodies adrenal system to go into overload, making her nipples instantly stiffen, and a sharp hit of heat zip down from her brain to her sex. "Oh my god... " was all that came out of Ann's mouth, as she quickly dropped her eyes to the floor and quickly rushed out of the locker room. Daquan stood there stunned, not even being able to wrap the towel around himself to cover up. He sat down on the bench in front of his locker and looked at his rising manhood. He smiled a bit, and began to dress. * * * * * While in REM sleep that night Daquan's mind opened up the physical lust that was blossoming in his young man's body. In his deepest nocturnal dreams he made love to his prize--Mrs. Malone and showed her the pleasures of being with someone who would desire her and satisfy her in the sexual way that she needed, to show her the forbidden pleasures of interracial sex. It was so real in his mind's eye that he sensed that he smelled the wetness between her legs, and the softness of her middle-aged ass in his big, rough, black hands, holding her middle-aged body and fucking her hard. Daquan was so horny that he woke up from his deep sleep to relieve himself of his lust. He grabbed the old year book which he had taken from the library and found a color picture of Mrs. Malone. He rubbed his hard black cock on the picture of her smiling face and instantly unloaded a load of hot, sticky, cum on the year book picture of her. That night he knew that he had to have her. That weekend he built up the courage to convince himself to just say fuck it and try to make a move on her when he got the chance on Monday. Every time he thought about trying, his dick vibrated like never before. He also knew that if he saved up, instead of wasting his lust (and nerve), he would be more likely to try to seduce her due to him being so horny. Wet Dreams Really Do Cum True Little did he know that in the safety of her uptown bedroom Mrs. Malone couldn't sleep that night either. After going home she totally forgot about cooking dinner and ran straight for the shower. She could not get Daquan out of her mind, recalling seeing him naked in the locker room just hours ago. She thought that her thoughts would wash away, down the drain like the water, but they didn't. The shower just made her think of Daquan more, imagining him in the showers at school washing his athletic ebony body after playing football in the heat of the day, cleaning and stroking his manhood, secretly wishing that he was there in the shower with her. She showered for over an hour. After getting out she got into her robe and sat in front of her mirror. She noticed all of the lines and wrinkles on her face. After 52 years she couldn't see the appeal that any man but her husband would have for her. She felt so guilty for what had happened, she knew that she could not and should not think about Daquan Johnson in such a way. She was a vice-principal of the school for God's sake and he was a student—a black student. Ann tried to sleep that night cuddled up next to her snoring husband. She could not mention what had happened and tried to forget about the animalistic image she saw, but it was like trying not to notice a pink elephant in the room. Her mind just wondered back to Daquan and the size of his limp penis. She couldn't believe that he or any man could be so beautifully endowed. That weekend her mind was racing with thoughts of Daquan's wet body. It was even making her married libido want something more from her husband, who made love to her only on occasion. Finally at two in the morning it dawned on her that she had assigned him after school to be in her office for the next few weeks to serve out his punishment. 'Oh my God! What am I going to do?' she thought. * * * * * After all of those weekend's super sexy dreams that he had about his vice-principal Daquan became instantly attracted to her. She reminded him of looking a bit like Valerie Harper, when she played the mom on Valerie's family, a sitcom he watched on Nic-at-Nite. His dick was rock hard all day. He didn't speak much that day to anybody, but in his mind he was thinking about what was going to happen later that day when he saw Mrs. Malone. He was going to be all alone with her; although he wanted her in the worst way he didn't know what exactly to do. After all she was his vice-principal; she was married, had a family and was old enough to be his mother, not to mention that she had the power to destroy his football dreams. * * * * * That Monday inn the bustle of the cafeteria Mrs. Malone was on lunch duty. As she always did she sat with the other faculty and sat so that she could have a view of the cafeteria. Yet, her eyes wandered around looking for the main character of her latest dreams. She spotted Daquan sitting as usual with some hot girl, whites and blacks would sit next to him, in fact most of the cheerleaders were often jocking him for his time. This fact made Mrs. Malone jealous. Jealous of the fact that he could be satisfying some of the girls his age, whose bodies were nubile and firm compared to her own. She pictured them enjoying the same sexual ecstasy from Daquan that she was picturing. Her eyes then focused on what Daquan was now doing. She smiled at him, then her mouth opened a bit as she watched him seductively lick the vanilla ice cream filling from the two chocolate cookies that held his ice cream sandwich together, his eyes sending an erotic message that only she could read. The middle-aged woman blushed a bit and her legs tightened to hold back the warm sensation that was building up and started to make her wet. She tried to look down but kept glancing over at her young black lover enjoying his ice cream with his tongue, only she was wishing that it was her white filling that he was licking right now, and his cocoa hands would be spreading her thighs on the long table. She then noticed Lori Murphy, the head cheerleader that was lucky enough to sit next to him today, have her hand underneath the table and in Daquan's crotch, obviously stroking his manhood. Yet, his eyes were strictly on his vice-principal. Ann couldn't take it anymore and excused herself for a moment from the lunch table and went to the bathroom to get her pussy dry. Four o'clock on the dot. Mrs. Malone had paced around her office for the last forty-five minutes straightening a space out at the farthest corner away from her desk. Making sure that Daquan had all of the tools that he needed to work quietly and diligently. She nervously moved things around as her emotions raced thoughts through her mind. 'What do I say to him?' she thought. 'I'm sorry I saw your cock' she answered mockingly to her self. Her heart began to pound again and her body started to feel like the way it did when she walked in on him a few days ago. Knock. Knock. Knock. Ann Jumped! Then she caught her composure and sorted out her conservative navy blue dress, before opening the door. "Uh, Hi... Mr. Johnson" she awkwardly greeted him. In walked Daquan in his football uniform minus the pads. His body once again dripping with the sweat caused by the extreme exercise that he just came from. Mrs. Malone took in the sexy way that he filled his uniform. Then snapped herself out of that thought by saying, "Uh, this is where you will work. I hope that you find it adequate." Ann was a bit unnerved at the silence that he was giving to her. She knew that she had to address the incident and apologize to the young man for walking in on him. She took a swallow and said, "Uh, I don't know how to address the situation that happened on Friday. Uh, I was looking for coach Wray, I, uh, well... I thought all of you boys had gone home." Daquan just took in her conversation as his heart pounded, on the fact that he was about to take one of the biggest chances of his young life. All that he could feel was the lustful fantasies that he had made up over the weekend were going straight to his young libido. "Uh, yes, well... I, uh, hope that we can, uh, put this behind us... Once again I'm sorry." She stated, as she turned away from him walking back to her desk, and then stopping at the edge to take a deep breath, and give herself a bit of a pat on the back for having the courage to be able to manage such an awkward situation. "I'm not." He blurted, his hand now stroking his manhood through the synthetic fiber of his uniform bottoms. Ann looked up and couldn't believe what he had just said. Should she ignore it? Was it even real? "Would you like to see it again?" Daquan coyly asked as the adrenaline coursed through his body, his youthful libido giving him extra boldness. "Hhhh!" she gasped, her mind tried to process the young man's proposition. She was so focused on trying to process all that was happening she failed to sense Daquan making his way towards her from behind. In the span of seconds Ann Malone felt compelling warmth make its way down her backbone and through her body like volts of electricity, as Daquan began to inhale the smell of her neck behind the ear. He smiled as she flinched a bit. Grabbing her wrists from behind he yanked her aged hands to his throbbing young black snake, which was swelling in the tight crotch fitting football uniform that he was wearing. "Been thinking about seeing me in the locker room?" He whispered, while guiding her hands to feel the growth laying down his thigh. "Cause I been thinking about you. I saw the way you looked at me. Staring at what I got." Ann began to squeeze it, as her head swam and her vagina kindled. "I've been thinking about you all weekend... wishin you woulda stayed... " Ann could not believe what she was hearing from him. There was no way that she could believe that of all the girls in school that he could probably have, he wanted her—a grandma, the vice-principal, a married woman, who had a child older then he was and two who went to the same school as he... a white woman. Daquan started to moan a bit as he felt the older woman's hand begin to take the lustful liberty of exploring more of his crotch. Daquan took off his jersey, then pulled the demure woman towards his warm body and leaned his head down and slowly and passionately kissed her rouge cheek. His thick lips made their way to the nape of her neck. "AHHHHHHH... " was all that Ann could say, feeling Daquan's penis wedged between the small of her back, while his big black hands started to lift her new Wal-Mart, navy blue, dress suit. "Don'tttttt dooo thhatttt... " was all that the formerly authoritative woman could argue in a whisper, as she began to feel the warmth of his rough hands freely exploring her body, with no shame for what he was doing. Her pussy began to flow when she felt his hand rub her steaming, panty hosed encased, crotch, while his other hand felt her round aged ass through the matching navy blue pantyhose that she had on. "Ohhhhhhhhh... myyyyyyy... " she replied when Daquan whispered, "You want some of this black cock to please you?" "Ohhhhhhhhh... uhhhhhhhhhhh... uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... ahhhhhhhhhh" Daquan turned her around so that she could face the young man who was once her student and was now going to be her lover, a young man whom she was going to break all solemn vows to everything that she revered. Mrs. Malone looked up to the black kid that she was giving herself to. He tenderly brushed her face and kissed her lips. She resited the temptation to kiss him back a bit, but she soon opened her mouth, a mouth that had, for the last 27 years been the kisses of only one man. The lean football player put his hands up under the hem of her skirt and squeezed her 52 year old white ass. It was an exhilarating moment for both of them as they passionately made out in her office. She stood up on the tips of her Payless, generic, opened toed, navy blue flats; desperately trying to orally consume the young black man's mouth. Her weekend fantasy was becoming real. Daquan broke the kiss and pushed Mrs. Malone into her office chair. Ann's breathing was filling the room, spotted with exclamations of "Oh God!", "Ohhhhh Gowwwwwwwd Daquan!" She swallowed as she saw him shuck off his pants. His eyes were that of a young savage warrior who was entranced with what was transpiring with the white woman that recently filled his nocturnal dreams. The woman who, earlier that day, was an innocent grandma in the suburbs was now staring in shock and awe at the animalistic look of his lust filled black dick. Ann likened it to the look of a cooked sausage, which her husband liked to cook. The proud, lean, black man paced towards her. Standing above her, he looked down and saw the fear and erupting lust that was shining in her face. He proceed to grab her left hand. * * * * * Here she was fondling Daquan's heavy black balls. The exchange of heat zipped through the both of them as the vice-principal's cold and clammy white hand fondled his warm, heavy black ball sack. It felt so good that even big bad Daquan moaned a lustful "ahhhhhhhhhhhhh... " as he looked up to the office lights above him, losing a bit of strength in his powerful legs as the old lady's clammy hand gingerly tugged on his scrotum. Daquan nearly lost it as he looked down to see Mrs. Malone's wedding ring on the 52 year old finger that was now exploring his jock. As his VP explored him, he looked over at the picturesque pictures of Mrs. Malone's family life, staring at the carnal act. For a second the pleasure in his teen-age mind made him hallucinate that he saw some of the family pictures move as they watched the carnal scene that was building in the school office. The thought of her being married made him even madder with desire for her, but even more so was the fact that symbolically her kids, husband, and even grandkids were watching as their 52 year old matriarch gave into temptation and physical desire, with an eighteen year old black kid. The mature woman lifted her skirt for her young black lover to see her short ivory legs, encased in the shiny, sheer, blue colored pantyhose that contained her oven like heat for his approval. Daquan could see the desire in her face, even amongst a few wrinkles, this lady was hot. Daquan loved the fact that this older, middle-aged white lady, who was a pillar of the school, was so wanton for him. He laughed when he saw her "Administrator of the Year" plaque. 'If they only knew' he thought to himself as he inspected his new old white slut. Kneeling in front of his vice-principal, Daquan seductively and deliberately slipped off her flats and preceded to kiss and lick the bottom of Mrs. Malone's sensitive feet, slowly, torturously, making his way to her crotch. "OHHHHH GODDDD... Daquan!" she exclaimed as he buried his eager young black face in between her legs. She pulled his head into her, his hands eager to remove her hose. She lifts her ass to assist as he pulled her constraints off her ivory legs, yanking Ann's simple panties with them. He eagerly buried his head again and ran his tongue up and down the hood of her protruding labia. He smiled when he noticed a couple of grey hairs in her dark and mature quim. He sucked and hummed on her swollen pussy lips. He loved looking up at her and seeing this married, older, white VP writhe with ecstasy on his tongue, squirming in the chair that she oversaw her authority upon the school. On this day she gave all of that up for him, finally giving in to her recently aroused desires that this young man, whom she secretly had feared, was giving to her. Right then and there, as the elderly lady looked up into the lights, she became happy that her school got redistricted. After slurping on the warm wet pussy of his principal, and making the soccer-mom cum in his mouth three times, he forcefully turned the satiated white lady around with the back of her knees and legs facing him, her round ass sticking out from her rumpled skirt that was hiked over her hips. "Don't do thattttttt... Daquan, don't do thattt... , that's dirtttttyyyyyyy" she vainly protested as the kinky kid began to literally kiss her white ass. She was electrified by his sexual depravity, not even caring if she was clean, as his tongue explored her 52 year old virgin ass hole. His dick felt like a missile that was going to go off, while it touched the bottoms of her wrinkled soles. "How do you like it Miss?" he asked her while stroking his long black finger along her mound like cunt. "Sayyyyyy my name.." He provoked her. The inexperienced white woman was humiliated at the thought that if someone were to walk in, they would be scandalized to see Ann Malone. Mrs. Malone, the straight laced, typical desperate housewife, who never knew that her beliefs and her entire world could get so rocked by such a lascivious thing as making love to another man, a young black man, who awoke some deep desire within her, thus bringing all of her previous world to a crash. How would she react if someone saw the most unlikely of lovers having kinky sex in a public school? "Daquannnnn... Daquannnnn... " was her reply when his finger and tongue found another spot that she never knew she had. * * * * * Daquan once again made his new white lover stand up. Her mascara ran a bit, her breath was hot, heavy, lust filled, as she faced him still wearing the blouse of her rumpled dress, buttoned up still, concealing her heaving chest, the skirt of her dress bunched up around her ample waist. She stood in front of him—ashamed, she knew that standing in front of the naked young man was wrong. She looked down at the strong and confident black man in front of her, by passing his erect penis, to his large, dark feet. She marked the erotic contrast between her middle-aged, dainty, white feet and his manly black athletic ones. For the first time since her granddaughter was born, she began to tear up at the realization that she was now giving one of her newly bused young black students that arrived at her school that fall--her body, her mind, and her soul. The sensitive football player noticed her trepidation saying "look at me." The demoralized principal looked up at her towering young lover. "God you're sexy. I've wanted you ever since you saw me in the locker room." He began to unbutton her blouse as he talked to her. Mrs. Malone's nipples got harder and harder. "I know that you've been wanting me too. Let yourself go to heaven baby, and let me take you there." He said "Anything that you ever wanted, anyway you ever wanted it—just let go!" He took off her blouse and suckled on her mature breast, suckling like a great and skilled black lover from history. Now he had Mrs. Malone completely naked. He picked her demure ass up. She wrapped her legs around him like an old child. Her husband had tried to have her like that once, on their 13th wedding anniversary. He blew his back and he never tried again. Daquan's dick felt like it was in the creamy middle of mother earth, as he easily held Ann up and proceeded to fuck her standing behind her desk, next to the window that faced the hallway, luckily the blinds were closed and most of the faculty and students had left campus already, because here she was, a middle-aged soccer mom, a vice-principal of a high school for God's sake, a pillar of the community who had been faithful for 52 years to her family, and her teaching career. Daquan looked her in the eye. "Take it!" he said. "Take it baby!" he repeated while thrusting in his VP with orgasmic thrusts. His young black muscles on his body flexed with each stroke, giving the conservative white lady orgasm after orgasm. "Take my black dick baby... take it... take that black cock in your slutty white snatch. Your mine now... " he bellowed as his young prostate began to throb with the feeling of a copious amount of his cum bubbling up. "Sayyyyyyyyyy my name... please sayyy itt!" she said as she felt Daquan's black cock begin to explode within the farthest parts of her womb. "Mrs. Maloooooooonnneee... Uh damn! Mrs. Malooooooooneee... ahhhhhhhhhh... Mrssss.Malooooone!" he grunted, as the orgasm of his life came over him. His young dick spurting out the built up lust saved over the weekend, into his vice-principal. And for an instant, the universe was perfect for them. * * * * * He placed the spent older woman into her office chair gently, kissed her sweaty lips, licked her dazed white face, and then pulled her nude, glistening body down to the floor with him. They lay there, in each others warm embrace, oblivious to time; their limbs glistened with sweat and saliva as they literally licked each other from head to toe. Daquan enjoyed suckling on her dainty white toes. She marveled at the size of his limp penis as it reposed on his heaving, lean, cocoa stomach. Daquan looked up at the ceiling as he felt Ann's hand, once again fondling his manhood, this time in amazement and care. Ann never knew such lust existed in life, especially at her age. She now knew why the girl's were so crazy about him, and now she was apart of his many conquests at his new school, subject to his carnal desires for her. And she would lovingly give in to the young black Adonis whenever he wanted. Now she was going to be a woman with a naughty secret, a fact which got her off even more. Daquan had liberated her to feel the way that she wanted all of her sexual life. How free she was to finally experiment with something so addicting as having illicit sex with a young man, her student of all men. What made it even hotter for her was the fact that he was the hottest black stud in all of the school, and all he really wanted was to have her, an old school marm.