5 comments/ 79768 views/ 3 favorites The Schoolteacher By: ChristineDAngelo Brunswick Manor is a college for sixth form students between the ages of sixteen and eighteen. It has a long and distinguished history as one of England's foremost academic institutions. Rebecca Lewin is an English and drama teacher of the highest calibre, having taught at some of the best schools in the country, before coming to Brunswick seven months ago. She has an impressive CV, one any teacher would be proud of; however, there were some things about Rebecca Lewin, or Becca as she preferred to be called, that she was glad her current employers were not aware of. Becca was a bisexual with a voracious appetite for young women. Given that she taught some very attractive and vulnerable young women every day, Becca Lewin thought that she had one of the best jobs in the world. To look at, Becca was nothing special, not particularly pretty but not plain either. She was from a Jewish background, though she was not religious herself. Her hair was collar length, and very dark brown, almost black, and she had a slightly swarthy complexion, with a rather large nose. It was her nose that stopped her from being pretty. Because of a slight myopic condition, she'd worn glasses since she was a young girl. She wasn't a tall woman, only five feet four inches, and like so many women her age, thirty one, she was struggling with her weight. As a result, Becca's shape was somewhat dictated by her wide hips, large rear and huge boobs. She made her way along the corridor of the third, and top floor of the building, carrying a stack of exercise books, it was eight forty-five. Here was located a small gym hall with changing facilities and two classrooms. The larger was Becca's English and Drama room, the other room was an art studio. As she approached the door, the narrow corridor was lined with students waiting to be let in to the room. Becca said 'good morning' to the assembled class and received a barrage of 'good morning Miss Lewin's' back. Taking a key from the bunch attached to her waistband, she unlocked the door, entered and put the pile of books on her desk. Sitting down, she went through the attendance list, calling out the list of twenty-two names, only three of her pupils were not at school that day. Putting the list back in her desk drawer, she moved up and down the rows of desks handing out the marked books, stopping at every student to make a constructive and encouraging comment about the submitted work. Sitting back at her desk, Becca surveyed the sea of young expectant faces, some were smiling, some were just waiting expressionless for her to begin the lesson. One particular face amongst the eighteen year olds, was that of Sofia Rees-Davis. The look on her face was different to any of the others, she was looking at Becca with a expression of admiration bordering on adoration. Becca was not surprised by this because she and Sofia had been having a sexual relationship for the past three weeks . The student occasionally glanced over to a door in the corner of the room and smiled knowingly. This was the door to a small storeroom where the two women had first kissed and touched each other intimately, and where only a few days ago, had indulged in full sex. Early on, Becca had recognised the first signs of a schoolgirl crush. The prolonged eye contact, the ever ready smile, the contrived excuses to be alone with her, all signalled an adolescent caprice. It was reprehensible for her to take advantage of this naïve girls feelings, but her desires were far too strong to be countered by any sense of propriety or guilt. Becca was fully aware that although these pupils were above the age of consent, her relationships with them constituted an instant sackable offence. It was seen as 'moral turpitude' but Becca's intense sexual drive, her needs, her demons conspired to minimise any influence on her actions. As Becca embarked on a discourse of Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice' she could not stop thoughts of the lovely Sofia invading her mind. It was difficult to maintain a coherent stream of thought about Miss Austen's beautiful book while memories of Sofia's young, and even more beautiful body competed for her attention. Sofia had thankfully stopped staring at her and was now engrossed in the text book in front of her. As Becca spoke of the interplay between the book's characters, of Elizabeth Bennet, her daughters, and Darcy, she felt herself detached, as if her narrative was voiced by someone else, allowing her to freely entertain sweet thoughts of Sofia. Her mind drifted back to that first kiss, that first embrace when Sofia had allowed herself to be touched by her. Sofia was a beautiful young woman, tall and slender with long golden brown hair and green eyes. Her long legs, narrow hips ,and small bust, contrasted sharply with Becca's own rather full figure. On that special day, after school had finished, Sofia had offered to sort a new batch of books that had arrived from the suppliers. Becca had agreed and the two women had moved the four large boxes from the classroom floor to the small storeroom. The room was small, no more than twelve feet by twelve feet, and made to feel all the more cramped by the floor to ceiling shelves on all sides. There was a bank of shelves jutting out from the wall, to three quarters of the way across the floor, effectively dividing the room in half. Sofia hadn't commented, when Becca flicked on the light and closed the self-locking door behind them. The musty smell was the first thing they noticed as they began to slice open the boxes using a small craft knife from a nearby shelf. The volumes were a mix of large reference works and larger number of classic study books. Becca suggested that Sofia stand atop a small wooden stepladder, while she handed the books up to her for placing on an upper shelf. With Sofia in place on the ladder, her navy blue pleated skirt was level with Becca's face. She moved forwards with a handful of small books, her nose was only inches from the gently swaying hem of the knee-length skirt. Now Becca fancied that the musty smell from the old books, had been replaced by the faint but sweet aroma of Sofia's pussy. Becca handed one of the large reference volumes up to her pupil, and because it was overly tall, the book had to be stored on the topmost shelf. Sofia stretched up to reach the shelf and it was then that Becca had placed her hands around the girl's slim hips to steady her. With the young woman held in her grasp, Becca was almost consumed by the desire to lift up her skirt and kiss the firm young arse in front of her. She managed to let go of the girl long enough to hand up another large book, but this time Becca held her lower down and placed her hands on the girls arse. Again Sofia made no comment but she took longer to place the book on the shelf, seeming to savour the sensation of her teacher's hands on her rear. Becca took advantage of the girl's silent consent and when steadying her again for another book, she slid her hands under her skirt and slowly moved them up the girl's slim thighs. Becca's mind was ablaze with fantasies surrounding this progress with Sofia, but her thoughts were cut short when Sofia's voice cut through the reverie. " I think we should stop now Miss Lewin." Before Becca could react, Sofia climbed down the stepladder. Becca suspected that she'd misread the signs from Sofia and said, "I'm sorry Sofia, I didn't mean to upset or offend you You're right, you should stop now, you just get off home, I can finish..." Sofia cut in, "It's alright Miss Lewin, I'm not upset, it's just that... I don't know..." Sofia trailed off and looked Becca in the eye, Becca smiled at her and a strange look came over the girl's face. Suddenly, without warning,Sofia flung her arms around her teacher's neck and hugged her. Becca, taken aback by the explosive show of emotion, instinctively wrapped her arms tightly around the girl. She felt her boobs being squashed as the girl pressed against her. Sofia's head was on Becca's shoulder as she tried to soothe the girl. "It's OK Sofia, it's OK, sshh, sshh." Sofia's mouth was against Becca's neck when the girl mumbled, "Oh Miss Lewin, Miss Lewin." All of a sudden, Sofia was pressing her mouth against Becca's. The two women kissed passionately, with little gasps and sighs escaping from the teenager's mouth. Becca tightened her embrace and, without thinking, turned the girl to the door, pressing herself against Sofia's slight body. END OF CHAPTER ONE The Schoolteacher and the Marine This is going to turn into the worst vacation of my life, thought Carol Livingston as she rubbed suntan lotion on her body. First, Frank cancels out at the last minute because of that crummy trial. That's the third time in twelve years of marriage he does this, the third damn time, Mr. Big Time Prosecutor. Then the damn airlines losses my luggage and I am forced to borrow Rita's clothing and she's one or two sizes smaller than I am. I'm embarrassed to wear this white mesh string bikini. This outfit barely covers my nipples and crotch. I'm exposing my tits to the world and the beach waiter was staring directly at my breasts while he took the order. It was embarrassing to be ogled. "Carol you look tense," Rita said, interrupting her thoughts, "Relax. Have another margarita. Enjoy the beach. " "It's such crap," Carol answered, "I spend nine months teaching history to thirty-two high school students and my vacation starts with Frank canceling and my luggage getting lost." "Don't worry about it," Rita answered as she waved to a passing waiter, "The insurance will pay for the loss and you can have a fling. I'll get you a date." Rita, a television editor, was twice divorced. The two thirty-four year old women had been good friends since high school, although their personalities and physical appearances contrasted. Rita had chestnut hair and green eyes with a body to match her wild side. Carol was taller, heavier and better endowed with more orthodox moral views. She wore her black hair in a mane of curls that dripped halfway down her neck. "A date?" Carol remarked, "I'm a married lady." "Several hundred miles from home." "I didn't leave my morals at home." "Morality is the most flexible word in the dictionary." "Really, Rita..." "Yes. Think about it. What's moral for Christians is not necessarily moral for Muslims or Mormons or for some tribe in the Amazon. Morality is flexible. Everywhere you turn the corner the rules change." "I'm sure," Carol answered, "but not for me. I can't be unfaithful to Frank." "You mean to tell me you haven't cheated in twelve years of marriage?" "No," she answered, "once almost." "Really. When?" "Earlier this year. I went to a charity party without Frank and I was angry and had a few drinks and ended up in the parking lot with Charlie, who's an English teacher. We just made out like high school kids and he felt me up, but that was all." "That's it?" "Yeah. I would not cheat on Frank. I didn't initiate the thing with Charlie. He didn't ask for permission, he just told me he was going to kiss me and I let him do it. Then he started to feel me up and I began to protest and he hushed me softly. His hands went into my blouse and up my skirt and I played with him through his pants, without taking it out. A security car entering the parking lot interrupted us. Perhaps I would have continued but I don't think so. Anyway, I don't want to cheat on Frank." "Okay, relax. Check out the view and imagine a fantasy." "What are you talking about?" "You silly girl. Either the first margarita hit you hard or the sun has fried your brain. Over there, on the left, near the palm tree." Carol looked, seeing two well-muscled young men in swim trunks setting up a beach umbrella. "U.S. Marines," Rita sighed, "government inspected prime meat." "How do you know they are marines?" "One guy just removed a red T-shirt with the emblem and they are both wearing dogtags." "You are a regular detective, Rita." "Enjoy the view. Wouldn't one of them be better than Frank?" Carol did not answer. Her sex life with Frank, she pondered, had been narrowed down to unimaginative quickies sandwiched in between trials and depositions. Frank had turned into a flabby workaholic and the last two years of their marriage had been frustrating. Over the last few months she had occasionally imagined a sexual situation with a stranger. The incident with Charlie had excited her, as she had not been in years. Carol had not pursued the relationship but had often masturbated to the memory of her only sexual adventure as a married woman. "Oh my God, Carol, check out the new arrival," Rita whispered, "he's bigger than a truck." A third man joined the two marines. The new arrival was dressed in sandals, black swim shorts, a watch, a pair of dark shades and his dogtag insignia. He was six-three, two hundred and forty pounds of solid muscle with a washboard stomach. His blonde hair was cut an inch long on the top and shaved on the sides. The marine had a well-trimmed mustache. "Wouldn't you like to spend a weekend with him?" "I am married." "I am not discussing reality, honey. Can you imagine being in bed under that man?" "Yes," Carol said, "just as a fantasy, of course." "Honey, he's huge, two pounds short of a horse." "You are a slut, Rita," Carol said laughing. "Look at him. Tell me you would not want to spend a couple of hours in a foxhole with him. Compare him to normal men and it's like a truck and compact cars." Carol looked at the muscled leatherneck, noticing that even from a few hundred feet away she could see his tanned skin glistening in the sunlight, the muscles rippling as he moved, bending over to pick up a beer from the cooler, then straightening and stretching his body like a jungle animal. He swigged the cold beer tipping his head back, his thick biceps shining in the sunlight. Rita is on the money, Carol thought, he is a prime slab of beef. I've never in my life been to bed with any man resembling this guy. "He's looking this way and smiling at us," Rita said, "We could be dating the proud, the few, this very afternoon." "Not interested." "He's coming this way," Rita said, "let me do the talking. You are married but I am not and he is just what I need." The big marine approached them, swigging his beer as he walked. "Well," he said as he came near, "You are a long way from Dayton, Mrs. Livingston." "Whaaat?" Carol was stunned; "Who are you?" "Mike Williams. Second seat, first row, third hour American History." "That's...Oh, my God!" She remembered him as a shy, rawboned eighteen-year old with unkempt butter hair worn long, nothing like this mountain of human flesh and muscle in front of her. He sat across from Rita and Carol, in one of the empty wood lounge chairs. Carol suddenly felt vulnerable, aware of her half-exposed breasts. Was he ogling her tits? "I haven't seen you in years. You have changed, Mike." "In more ways than one. Five years in the marines and I'm seventy pounds heavier than when I left high school." "None of it fat, I bet," Rita said, cutting into the conversation. "Oh...excuse me. This is my friend Rita. Mike. Rita." "Pleasure," Rita said, "are you stationed around here?" "Yes," he answered, "I'm a sergeant in a heavy-weapons platoon at Pensacola." They talked as Carol finished her second margarita and started on her third, feeling slightly buzzed. The conversation centered on their high school, the football and track teams and news gossip about former students. Carol was feeling at ease. As they talked she could not see his eyes hidden behind dark shades, but wondered if Mike was staring at her breasts. In her drunken buzz her eyes wandered once or twice towards the large bulge in his shorts. This is wrong, she thought, it's wrong to be aroused by my former student. I'm at least ten years older than he is, maybe more, but he is soooo fine. His legs are massive, like tree trunks and he has that six-pack stomach, a huge muscled rear end and a prominent bulge between his legs. He is a hunk and he knows it. Mike doesn't seem to be a shy boy anymore. I've never had a man that big and strong. Halfway through the third margarita, Rita excused herself "for a few minutes," leaving them alone. "Is Mr. Livingston here?" Mike asked as soon as Rita left. "No, he could not come," she answered, "he was delayed by a trial." "Excellent," he answered, "Let's get together tonight." "What do you mean?" she asked. "Let's get together. You and I." "You are not serious," she retorted, a touch of nervous anxiety in her voice, "I mean...it would not be proper." "Maybe not," he answered, shrugging, "But it would be great for both of us." "I don't think so...Mike, I am married," she said, looking down, embarrassed, avoiding his gaze." "It doesn't matter." "Of course it does." "I've wanted you since high school." "Well," she said, nervously, "I am very flattered..." "Do you know how many times I beat my meat thinking about you?" "What! Mike, this conversation..." "Probably twenty or thirty times in two semesters." "This conversation is over," Carol said angrily as she started to rise from her chair, "I can't believe..." "Sit down," he said, his voice a stern command, "and listen to me." Carol Livingston sat down at once, a little surprised at her own reaction of obeying her former student. She was embarrassed, momentarily speechless at the inability to cope with the situation, looking away from Mike, eyes downward on the warm sand, avoiding his stare. The big marine read her body language, understanding that somewhere in Carol Livingston there was a submissive streak, a desire to be ordered. "Listen to me until I'm finished," he said, "first look at me." "Mike, I..." "Carol," he said using her first name for the first time, "Listen to me. You have a terrific body. I spent the better part of two semesters staring at your ass and tits and I played with myself as did most other males and probably a few females in our class, thinking about fucking you..." Carol gasped but did not move. The young man in front of her had transfixed her with his command to sit and stunned her speechless with his raw language. Frank had never ordered her around in such a manner or even talked in such a vulgar way. She was both repelled and attracted to his brutal crudeness ...Mike was twenty-three but his physical presence exuded power. "Every high school boy has a fantasy about a teacher. You were mine and my choice was a good one. You look great in that swim suit." "I...look..." "Hear me out. You do look good. Very nice tits. Now answer me and don't lie: have you ever been unfaithful to Mr. Livingston?" "No," she answered, her voice tinged with anxiety, "never..." "So now we have the opportunity to satisfy each other's fantasies. You are a married woman but I doubt if you are really sexually satisfied. Most married women are unsatisfied; they just won't admit it to themselves. So here's your chance. We are both adults and I will satisfy you beyond sanity. Don't look at the ground, look at me. Yes, I can see it in your eyes, you are curious. You wonder what it would be like and now you have a chance. If you don't try it then you will wonder for the rest of your life what my meat tastes like or what it would feel like to be entered, fucked deeply..." "You are rude," she said using her tough-teacher act, "I resent your vulgarity..." "Bullshit, you love it," he interrupted her, "look at how hard your nipples are. You love dirty, raw language. You are wet down there, aren't you?" Carol Livingston stared at the young sergeant, dumbstruck. "It turns you on doesn't it? Would you like me to continue talking to you crudely?" The schoolteacher did not answer, shifting nervously in her lounge chair. "Answer me," he said softly, "do you want me to talk dirty, Mrs. Livingston?" Carol nodded slowly. "Tell me." "Yes," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "I am staying at this hotel in Room 412," he said looking at his watch, "It's now two o'clock. I will go to my room now and I expect you there in ten minutes. What's my room number?" "Room 412, but I...I can't. Mike, I am a teacher, not a slut." "You want to be a slut," he answered smiling, "your nipples are hard and your face is flushed. You are hungry for my cock and you know it. No one is forcing you here, but you know you want it." "I don't." "Yes, you do and I'll prove it. Remove your top." "Here? Are you crazy?" "It's a beach. Others are topless. Take it off." Carol grimaced but obeyed, wincing as she saw his head nod slightly as her nipples were exposed. "I told you to do it," he said with a wicked smile, "but I did not force you. You are the one who wants it. Room 412. Be there. My cock will be inside you very soon, Mrs. Livingston." Mike walked towards the hotel leaving Carol sitting alone, her naked breasts exposed to the sunlight and the eyes of a passing waiter. What's happening here? she wondered. Why did I obey him like that? It's not just that he looks like he's carved out of granite, it's also his attitude. It's true that he is not forcing me and I did whatever he said and I am soaked between the legs. Oh, my God, I have a chance at adultery with a former student and I don't want to be unfaithful to my husband but on the other hand Mike is right. I would grow old wondering what it would be like...should I go? Do I want to be a slut with my former student? She tied the top back up, stood up and searched for Rita, who was nowhere to be seen. Trembling with anticipation she walked towards the hotel. A passing bellhop stared at her as she walked, flesh jiggling around the white mesh bikini, moons of her ass glistening with suntan oil. The ogling did not bother her this time, for she was warm with desire, bursting with nervous anticipation, trying to convince herself to turn back, but walking on. She knocked on the door, with anxious hesitation. "Come in." Mike was sitting in the king-sized bed, wearing only his dark shorts. "Stand there by the table and don't move," he said, "you will answer my questions. Why did you come here? Don't look at the floor, look at me." "I...look, Mike. It's not right...and I am married..." "You can leave anytime you want, Mrs. Livingston. You are not forced to do anything, but you are here because you want to fuck, don't you, Carol?" . "No...I mean... yes," she answered in a voice that was a soft whimper. "Good. Now take off the swim suit and stand there naked." She was turned on by the way he was treating her, the total control off her actions. Carol was used to being in control in her classroom, but here she was totally dominated by his animal attraction. She could smell his beach oil, saltwater skin from the ten feet that separated them. He was the first man other than her husband to see her naked in a dozen years. She was nervous; wondering what the twenty-three year old slab of muscles was going to demand next. "You have a sweet ass, Mrs. Livingston. I am going to enjoy you." He stood up and walked behind her. She could not see him but could feel his presence, his breath and body heat. He did not touch her but was breathing on the nape of her neck as he talked. "A student always wonders about a teacher. When did you lose your cherry, Carol?" "That's... rather personal." "Fucking you is rather personal, Carol. Do you want to leave?" "I...no." "No, what?" "I...I want to stay." "So answer the question, Mrs. Livingston," he said as he removed his shorts while standing behind her, so she could not see him yet, anticipating his nakedness. "I...his name was Jeff and it was in my senior year in high school.." "Go on." "His parents were away for the day and he took my virginity on the living room couch. One minute we were making out and then we were naked. He...straddled my face and put...you know, in my mouth...and then afterwards, he opened my legs and entered me. It was over fast." "And what is the best fuck you've ever had, Mrs. Livingston?" "Mmm...many....I..." "You can't remember? You can't remember the one that was perfect?" "I...I don't know...I'm so confused." "Be quiet. Enjoy, but do not move." She felt his hands around her waist and gasped as they moved upwards, playing with her nipples, teasing softly or pinching harder, sending shivers through her body. She felt his meat rubbing against the crack of her ass as his tongue licked her neck and earlobe. Carol Livingston felt Mike's left hand sliding down her belly, three fingers playing lightly with her slit as she could feel his massive body behind her, his meat rubbing against her ass cheeks. "Do you want to be fucked, Mrs. Livingston?" "Yes," she moaned, "yes, please." "Not yet. On your knees." She kneeled, the hotel carpet rug rough against her skin. He continued to stand behind her, this time using his cock to caress the back and sides of her neck, or curling his meat tube into her dark hair. "Did you ever fuck one of your students?" "Not yet. " "Do you suck your husband's cock a lot?" "Not enough...oh, please do something. You are driving me crazy." "What does my favorite teacher want? Tell me all about it." "Oh, I...the teacher wants cock." She blurted out the words. "Where?" "Please, Mike..." "Do you want to leave?" "No..." "Then tell me what and where?" "I want cock...anywhere. In my mouth." He walked around her and his cock was suddenly inches from her face, a long and thick tube with a large purple mushroom head. "Take it, Mrs. Livingston. Suck my cock like a Bangkok whore." Her arms encircled his legs; her fingernails raking his massive ass as she opened her mouth to receive him, his head sliding on her tongue. He ran his hands through her hair, guiding her head as he fucked her mouth. "Oh, Carol, " he said as his cock moved back and forth upon her lips, "If your students could see you now...Carol Livingston, slut teacher naked on her knees, sucking dick. That's it. Lick the underside." The schoolteacher had lost her inhibitions. While husband Frank was in a Dayton courthouse prosecuting a case, wife Carol was on her knees, naked in a hotel room, stuffing a thick cock in her mouth. The anxiety had vanished as the young marine clasped her mane of dark hair pushing her forward against his hard belly. "Put one hand between your legs and play with yourself," he said and she obeyed, her fingers caressing her clit. She was intensely aroused, ready to orgasm, thrilled by the wickedness of the moment. "Are you ready to come?" he asked and she mumbled an affirmative while sucking on his meat. "Then let's come together," he said, "go ahead. Enjoy it." He exploded in her mouth and she contracted with orgasmic spasm even as she swallowed him, his thick load coating her mouth, making her almost gag as she came again, her fingers buried between her legs. She felt woozy and weak but Mike helped her to the bed, placing her on all fours on the bed. One of his hands caressed the globes of her ass, moving down, fingers playing with her mound. "What do you want, Mrs. Livingston?" he asked. "I..can't believe this is happening..." "It is. What do you want?" "I...want you to fuck me." Her voice was cracking with anxiety for his fingers moving softly up and down her slit were driving her mad with desire. "On one condition." "What? Mike, please don't play games with me." "I'm not," he said, the tips of his fingers caressing her wet gash, "I am not forcing you to do anything you don't want to do." "What is it? Oh...please, Mike, you are driving me crazy." "My two buddies and I are like the three musketeers. One for all and all for one. So after I fuck you, they will have you also." She turned around in bed, moving away from Mike. "Are you insane?" "Probably. You have to be a little out of your mind to be a good marine. So what do you say?" "Forget it. You are an animal." He stood up and reached for his shorts. "That's fine. I'll guess you will be leaving now." "Mike...I...it's not fair..." "Sure it is. I'm not forcing you to do anything. It's your own choice and you make your decision. You want to skip the fuck, go ahead and leave." The Schoolteacher and the Marine "Mike...I..." "You don't want to leave, do you, Mrs. Livingston?" "Uh...no." "You want me to fuck you hard, don't you?" "Yes...yes, I do. Why are you doing this?" "I'm not doing anything. It's your choice. You do want to fuck my friends, don't you?" Carol did not answer. "Leave, Carol. Go back to your husband and your two car garage and business dinners." "No...I'll stay...let me stay." "You will fuck Willie and Ramon?" "I...I'll do what you tell me." "Good. I'm going to fuck you hard, Carol. You want that?" "Yes." "Yes, what? Convince me." "Yes, please," she said, almost in tears, "I'll stay...I want to stay... I'll fuck all three of you...I want it." "Tell me what you want?" "I...want to be fucked hard," she heard herself saying, surprised at her own daring, "I want... to be treated like a slut." He entered her doggie style, his thickness stretching the walls of her cunt. Never in her life had she experienced anything like what this man was doing to her. His meaty hands grasped her waist pulling her towards him as his thick meat moved and pumped inside her, filling her to totality. Carol Livingston moaned, gasped, pushed back as Mike slammed into her, as his thick meat disappeared in the mound between her legs, his large body surrounding her in a cocoon of solid muscles and warm flesh. "Talk to me or I'll take it out," Mike said, moving slightly, only allowing the crown of his cock to remain inside the moist slit. "No...please, don't take it out. Please fuck me." "You want it?" he asked as he rubbed the tip of his meat up and down the slit. "Yes! I want your cock! Please fuck me! I'm going out of my mind..." "Why, Mrs. Livingston, you are acting like a slut. Is this proper for a schoolteacher?" "Oh, please I beg you, fuck me now! Stick it in me! I am a slut!" He drove back into her with a steady pounding of his hips, Carol moaning and whimpering in ecstasy, her body jerking with an orgasm that started deep between her legs and shook her body in a mind-bending spasm. She felt herself fall towards the bed but he held her, folding her body under his, taking out his dick from inside her, then probing her ass. "No.." she said weakly, "not back there. You are too big." "Do you want to leave?" he asked as his meat rubbed against the insides of her ass cheeks. "No...no...go ahead...do what you want." She was resigned to being ass fucked by a former student. She felt his fingers on her, opening her cheeks and she mumbled a whimper of pain and acceptance as he entered her, his thickness stretching her. He was on top of her, his massive body moving up and down, his cock buried in her ass. She felt his cock inside her ass, a throbbing, living thing moving, penetrating, pushing in between the half moons of her ass and she pushed back, ground her hips and whimpered in delight. "Does it hurt teacher? Should I take it out?" "No," she answered back, "fuck me you animal! Fuck my ass! Ooooh...yes!...Oh, yes, you are an animal! Fuck my ass!" Mike laughed loudly as he pinned the older woman under, as his meat pushed deeper in between the white flesh cheeks, fucking Mrs. Livingston into a multiple orgasm, as they both came together, moans and whimpers joining, his cock churning out a load that felt warm on her insides. "How many orgasms did you have?" he asked her as they both showered and soaped each other minutes later. "I don't know," she answered as she soaped his muscled chest, "a lot. More than ever in my life." "The day is still young," he said, "and there's still Willie and Ramon.' "I'll fuck them for you." Her fears and anxieties had disappeared. Carol Livingston felt relaxed and stress free. "I have a surprise," he said, "put that bikini back on and let's go." Willie and Ramon were in another room on the same floor. Carol followed Mike into the room, where Willie naked, sat on a chair drinking a beer as he watched Ramon fuck Rita. Carol's friend was under the young marine, his meat sliding in and out of her shaved pussy as she trashed and moaned in delight. "I knew it," Mike said, opening a beer, "I know my squad. I figured Rita would be here. By the way Mrs. Livingston, I do believe Willie needs to have his cock sucked." Carol Livingston kneeled in front of the marine, grasping him, rubbing the head of his meat on her face, licking the underside, enjoying his hardness as it slid into her mouth. She was a willing participant, no longer worried about husband Frank or rules of morality, she was just a schoolteacher slut enjoying sucking on a young warrior's cock. Willie's hands guided her head as her fingernails scratched his hairy testicles. Carol felt movement behind her and she moved, opening her legs, making herself available as she continued licking Willie. Her bikini disappeared, ripped from her body. Carol's surprise came when instead of male hands; she felt long fingernails raking the flesh of her ass. Stunned, she turned to see Rita smiling at her, her face inches from her... "Ever make it with a woman, Carol?" Mike asked. "No...not until now," she answered as Willie's cock disappeared between her lips and Rita's face buried into her ass and mound, her friend's tongue inside her, licking, flicking her clit, making circles on the outer flesh of her womanhood. The next hour became a blur for Carol Livingston. Willie came in her mouth, then rubbed his meat on her face. Carol went down on the carpet, tasting a woman for the first time; her tongue finding Rita's slit as both friends buried their faces in each other's cunts. The three marines piled on them, cocks entering asses, hands playing with nipples, moans echoing in the room as they twisted and pumped, licked and bit, entering, slamming, fucking in wild abandon, without inhibitions. Grunts and moans of lust fulfilled accompanied their orgasms. "This is going to be the best vacation of your life," she heard Mike say as they all lay together in a sweaty flesh heap on the carpeted floor. "It already is, Mike," she answered, "it already is." The Schoolteacher Ch. 02 Becca tightened her embrace, pulling the young girl's slim body hard against her own. Her hands roamed up and down her back and on to her arse where she lifted the skirt and slipped her hands down the back of her panties. The feel of Sofia's soft yielding flesh in her hands sent a shiver through her body and she felt herself getting wetter. All the while, Sofia kissed her, her mouth tight over her own and her tongue sliding inside. Becca delved deeper in to her knickers, slipping her hand between her legs and inserting her fingers in to her moist pussy. Sofia trembled and stiffened and let out a cry as Becca's fingers penetrated her cunt. She was just about to move her hand around to the front to massage Sofia's clit when the girl pulled away. She gasped, " I can't Miss, I can't. I've got to go. I'll be missed at the dorm. Mrs. Frobisher will be wondering where I am." Becca stepped back, "Yes, yes of course Sofia. You must go, I'm sorry I.." Sofia smiled at her, "Don't worry Miss, I wanted this to happen, really I did. You see, I.. I love you Miss. I've loved you from the first day you taught us. I want us to be together. I want you to touch me, and I want to touch you. I've never felt anything like this before, not about anyone. I think about you all the time, I dream about you touching me, and making love to me. It's what I want more than anything in the world. We can meet again tomorrow can't we? I really want to. Can I come to your room tomorrow evening, I can tell Mrs. Frobisher that I'm having problems with my work and that you are helping me to catch up. Can we do that Miss? Do you want to see me tomorrow?" Becca felt a huge relief that she hadn't misread the signs from the girl. However, it wasn't all good news. Sofia's confession of love was a complication that she'd encountered before. Some of the girls and boys in the past had become besotted with her and it made the ending of the relationship very difficult and potentially dangerous. She'd had a girl some years ago threaten suicide if she didn't continue to sleep with her. That situation had been resolved when the parents of the girl, completely unaware of her attachment to her English teacher, had moved her to another school. Becca had made contact with the new school and, asking informal and indirect questions, was reassured that the girl was OK. Sofia was holding Becca's hands tightly as if reluctant to let go. "We'll see tomorrow. I'll talk to Mrs. Frobisher for you and make sure that it's OK for you come and see me tomorrow evening for some extra tuition. Now you run along, tell Mrs. Frobisher that I kept you back to help me with these books, OK?" Sofia grinned and nodded excitedly. "Oh Miss, that's really wonderful." Sofia leaned in and kissed her hard on the lips, and then whispered in her ear, "I can't wait for you to…fuck me." The girl suddenly broke away and disappeared through the door, leaving Becca in a state of extreme unfulfilled arousal. She stood alone in the musty room, trying to gather her thoughts about what had just happened. It was unusual for a 'new girl' to want to have sex so soon, usually there was a period much like courting, when Becca had to employ her seduction techniques in order to get a girl in to bed. But here was Sofia taking the initiative, wanting sex right at the start. Her thoughts returned to the physical, the tangible, the smoothness of Sofia's skin, the feel of her mouth on her own, and her smell, oh, the sweet smell of her cunt. She ran her fingers slowly under her nose, the aroma of her virginal young pussy was strong in her nostrils. She slid her fingers in to her mouth and brushed her fingertips over her tongue. She could taste it, she could taste Sofia's pussy. Becca's arousal suddenly increased ten fold, she slipped her hand up under skirt and between her thighs. Sitting down on one of the boxes, she parted her legs and pressed her fingers to her crotch. She was not surprised to find the silk material of her loose-fitting French knickers, soaking wet. She pressed harder, feeling the firm swelling of her erect clitoris, hard under her fingertips. Gently rubbing the soft sensitive area at the top of her drooling slit through the smooth silk, Becca began to masturbate slowly and methodically, creating a gentle circular motion. She leaned back on the shelves, her eyes closed as the sensations from her pussy began to build and expand towards the nerve tingling climax that she new awaited her. Her breathing settled to a deep slow pattern as her mind's eye produced images of lovely Sofia. As she softly rubbed her clit through the silk gusset of her kickers, she pictured a naked Sofia kneeling between her wide spread legs. The girl's golden brown hair cascaded over Becca's chunky thighs as her head bobbed slowly up and down. Sofia's sweet mouth was pressed against her cunt, the tip of her tongue moving in circles over her throbbing clit. Becca popped open some buttons on her blouse and pushed her hand inside her bra and began to rub and squeeze her hard nipples. She gasped and moaned in the small fusty room, feeling the burning itch of an approaching climax. The orgasm began to slowly overwhelm her, making her legs shake and her whole body start to tremble. Her hand moved faster, pressed harder through the material as the orgasm reached its summit. "Oh Sofia, Sofia..yes, lick it, suck me, lick me …harder Sofia, harder. Uhh…uhh…uhh…HUUUUUHHHH." The delicate silk fabric under her fingers was soaking wet as she slowed her hand, and allowed the climax to subside and fade away. END OF PART TWO