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Teacher Training

By: Medway1



I walk into the classroom with my battered soft brown leather briefcase, closing the door behind me. It is my first day at a new school having taken over from the previous History teacher, who left for some reason I can't seem to find out. This is my first lesson, a group of 18 year old students who have all chosen to take History. I like teaching 18 year olds because having chosen your subject it means they want to learn and that makes teaching so much easier.

The classroom door has a glass top half, the desks are all individual old dark brown, my own desk is large, old and tall. There is an old blackboard that winds round. Opposite the door windows run the length of the 1st floor classroom. It is an old building and I quite like the traditional way it looks.

There is a girl leaning back against my desk at the front of a noisy class, wearing a short thigh length grey skirt showing a shapely pair of legs and a white shirt with 4 buttons undone. Rather attractive with long black hair and someone every guy is after I bet.

"Right quieten down class and sit down please."

You turn round to face me leaning over the desk as I sit down, put my case on the floor and glancing up.

I can't help but notice your tits thrusting out of your top, Very nice I think to myself has she undone another button?

"I run this class, I'm not gonna have the trouble with you that I had with the last teacher am I? I had to get rid of him" you inform me in a quiet, but very commanding manner, your teenage arrogance shining through.

"I've seen you looking at my tits already you dirty old pervert. I shall start spreading it around that you keep staring at my tits and touching me, then I'll go to the Headmaster and tell him. Your career will be ruined just like the last poor sod that didn't do as he was told, so remember, I run this class, see me afterwards."

You do a button up and walk back to your seat. I sit there for a moment with my mouth open, dumbstruck. I'm at a loss quite how to deal with that so I start the class.

"Right quieten down please, my name is Mr Brown and I will be running this class from now on." I see you sitting there smiling to yourself.

The class passes without a hitch, you seem to ask a few questions that involve me looking over your shoulder at your text book as I walked round looking at everyone's work, but no more than others I suppose and it is a good view so I'm not complaining.

I dismiss the class at the sound of the buzzer and sit down packing away my books. I hear the door shut and then your voice. "Now Sir, let me tell you the rules."

"Rules?"

"Yes rules. I run this class and you will do as I say." 

At this point you are standing in front of me, You lean over and undo another button. "You like my tits you pervert, don't you?"

My eyes widen and I just nod as you bend your legs and sink down to your haunches.

"Good, that makes this easier" and you start to rub my thigh.

I can feel my groin stirring as you continue caressing. "Easier?"

"Yes. I get straight A's and don't do any work, OK?"

"I can't give you A's without any work."

"You don't have a choice, I get what I want, I'm in charge here" you say running the palm of your hand up my hardening shaft.

"You are going to do exactly as I say. I know you want me it is written all over your face and your cock is rock hard for me. I want fucking."

"What" I exclaim.

You stand up, grab my hair and thrust my face into your pussy. "You heard, now lick my clit old man, I wanna be wet before you fuck me."

You are holding my head with both hands pushing it and thrusting your pussy forward. I move your thong to one side and start to lick your outer lips. Using both thumbs I part the folds and my tongue seeks out your clit. You let out an involuntary moan and pull me closer, "Lick it old man."

I continue circling and flicking fast on your clit, I can hear you sigh.

You pull my head back "fuck me now."

You walk off still holding my hair, dragging me round to the side of the desk so the desk is between you and the door. You bend over "fuck me from behind you old pervert."

I must be mad but I can't wait. I unzip and find your wet entrance with my rock hard cock, slowly sliding in as far as I can. I ease out and thrust forward gently.

"Fuck me hard if you wanna keep your job Bitch."

I pull out slap your arse and begin hammering in hard. I pull your hair as I slow down to reach round and feel those tits.

"Don't slow, don't stop, just fuck me hard."

I fuck you for all I'm worth, feel you convulse and pump my seed inside you, all too quickly.

"Did I tell you to cum inside me Bitch?"

You turn round with an angry look on your face, grab my hair and pull it back, "I tell you what you can do, you are mine, my Bitch, your cock is mine, you will do as you are told, is that clear Bitch?"

"Yes."

"Good, now I get straight A's and don't have to do any work, understand?"

"Yes."

You sit down on my seat and part your legs.

"Now get down on your knees under the desk and lick your own cum out of my pussy."

"What, thats filthy."

"You shouldn't have cum in me without permission then, now please me slave, drink it."

I sink to my knees and crawl under the desk. Reluctantly I lick your pussy before slowly lapping the seeping cum. 

"I can't do this it's horrible."

"I don't give a fuck, now you know what we have to put up with, drink the lot you pathetic creature."

"I can't."

"Fuckin do it wimp, or you're history. You want me to go to the Headmaster with my pussy full of your cum?"

I can see that might be a problem so reluctantly start again but soon stop trying to take the taste away. You push my head back "I didn't tell you to stop, drink all of it you fuckin useless wimp. I run this class and that includes you. When I want cock I get it, when I want my pussy licked I get it."

"But, it's horrible."

"Like I care, now fuckin drink it till I tell you to stop Bitch."

The classroom door opens and I am alarmed when I hear the Headmaster's voice "Kirsty, should you be in here?"

You pull my head closer forcing me to continue, hidden under the desk.

"Yes sir, I'm to wait here while Mr Brown finishes something for me."

"What was the lesson like Kirsty, I hope you learnt something, he comes highly recommended."

"Oh he was hard sir, good though, he'll lick us into shape I'm sure."

"No trouble then?"

"He's going to be no trouble sir. I have a lot to catch up on after the last teacher Sir. It will be a long hard year and I will probably need extra lessons, but we have to put the effort in to get the rewards, don't we Sir? Could you get Mr Brown to teach me during this break period every week Sir, somewhere we won't be disturbed, it's going to be hard for me otherwise?"

I am scared, thinking, why don't she just get rid of him, don't keep him talking. Your hand is continually pushing my head to your slit making me lick every filthy horrible drop.

"Yes of course, I'm sure he won't mind, I must say it's a refreshing change Kirsty."

"If the right person touches the right buttons Sir, an explosion takes place, sometimes you have to do as you are told Sir, I hope my grades will improve now."

"You're an intelligent girl and you don't use the talent you have Kirsty. Excellent, well he seems a good addition to the staff if he can produce such changes in a day."

"Oh he's good Sir, he's very good" you say patting my head "and I'll put my talent to good use Sir, you can be sure of that."

I hear the door close and footsteps disappearing along the corridor.

"Haven't you finished yet wimp, work fuckin faster, you've got a lot to learn this year. You heard the Headmaster, you're to spend extra time with me each week, alone and undisturbed where you will learn to obey without question. I hate pathetic little creatures like you, now lick my clit, I'm gonna cum all over your face." 

Teacher Training



Chloe Hunt felt the bitter shaft of sunlight pierce the curtains and run lengthways down her naked body, illuminating the thatch of golden hair at her middle. The bed sheets discarded some time during a night of unbridled passion, her body was glazed in a film of sweat.

Opening one eye, she regarded lover Jack Willis wrestling on a sock in readiness for the day ahead, a small smile forming on her lips as she recalled the previous night's lovemaking. Twelve years her senior, Jack was the most considerate lover Chloe had known, in stark contrast to the previous men in her life who seemed only to have their own interests at heart. In some ways Jack was a little too considerate, but it was a minor complaint. Right now, Chloe could hardly be happier.

A lingering kiss was followed by a promise to see her again that evening, her lover leaving Chloe to hug the pillow as she battled the urge to go back to sleep. Forcing herself up from the sanctuary of the bed, the 23-year old schoolteacher tiptoed to the shower, turning the dial to cold.

Her oversized nipples swelled instantly as the water lashed at her shapely body. Administering a layer of fluffy white soap she cupped the pert yet cute breasts, the early morning ablutions bringing an all round rosy glow.

Bending to wring the water from the shoulder length mane of blonde, Chloe dried herself all over before perching on the edge of the bath. Extending a shapely slender leg, she began to paint each toenail a shade of devil red.

Returning to the bedroom the pretty blonde fumbled in the drawer, locating a set of underwear to match her nails. After climbing into the lacy red panties and hooking the bra up over her beautiful little breasts, she heard the rattle of the milk float in the road outside, suddenly she craved a nice cup of tea. She ought really to wear a dressing gown to fetch in the milk, but the garment was nowhere to be seen, carelessly discarded during the previous night's lovemaking. Oh well, she'd only be out on the step for a nanosecond.

Still early, the coast was clear for the daring reconnaissance. As she reached for the bottle, next door's cat leapt across the fence, swirling lovingly at her ankles. As she knelt to stroke the purring kitty, the door slipped momentarily from her hand. "There's a good little puddy cat," she cooed.

It was then that the door creaked painfully behind, slamming shut before there was time to react, trapping Chloe outside in just her skimpy red underwear. "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," cursed the pretty teacher, her expletive coming totally out-of-character from the normally sweet young thing.

Rarely heard to swear, even in extremes, she couldn't help herself. For this was extreme: locked out of the house and fully exposed to anyone that happened to be passing by.

And the first person that just happened to be passing by was her next door neighbour's son and one of her six form students, the geeky and somewhat creepy Kevin Manning. At eighteen he was a mere five years her junior, yet it seemed like a gulf. "Miss Hunt!" he exclaimed, firing a shocked expression over the gate.

"Kevin," Chloe responded, wrapping her arms around her body protectively, pretty face blushing a violent crimson to match her underwear. "Um I seem to have been rather stupid and locked myself out."

Kevin took a moment to look his teacher up and down, leering without subtlety and evidently liking what he saw. "Yes you have been a bit stupid, haven't you miss."

Chloe's face clouded, though she was in no position to censure his insolence. "Haven't I just, dumb blonde that I am?" she concurred, trying to make light of the situation.

At that moment, Chloe heard other footsteps approaching and, fearful the whole world might witness her predicament, she cowered in the shadows of the porch, barely so embarrassed in her life. "Oh Kevin, what am I going to do?" she bleated, realising that the backdoor was locked and she'd still to open any windows that morning.

Kevin rubbed his chin thoughtfully, before pulling out his mobile phone. Yesssssss, that was it – call the fire brigade, Chloe thought. They'd help her. Nooooooo – all those big strong men would see the respectable schoolteacher in her underwear. She'd never live it down. Instead of telephoning, however, Kevin held up the phone before his face, squinting before taking a photograph of his semi-naked teacher. "Oh God, Kevin, no..."

And with that he went on his way without a word, just a grin on his nerdy face.

Chloe felt the tears well up in her eyes. Looking around hopelessly, there was only one thing for it. Picking up a slab of rock from the garden, Chloe turned her face away and smashed the glass in the front door. Reaching through, careful to avoid the raised shards, she let herself in before anyone else had a chance to humiliate her.

* * *

It was gone ten o'clock before the glazier finished the job and the red-faced schoolteacher was able to get away, her first lesson missed.

With ten minutes spare to the next, she tracked down Kevin Manning in the sixth form common room. Not sure what to say or do, she asked if she could have a word in private. The other boys issued a childish "oooooh", causing the demure young teacher to blush virulently.

Out of earshot, she whispered: "Kevin...that, um, that photo you took this morning...that was intended as a joke, right?"

The schoolboy pursed his lips quizzically. "A joke, miss?"

"You'll delete it, right?"

"Delete it, miss? Why would I do that? It's a very nice photo..."

Chloe's heart fluttered. "Yes, but in the wrong hands..."

Kevin's lip curled upward wickedly. "Oh you're concerned I might...share it."

Chloe sniffed. "Yes."

"Well, your secret's safe with me, miss."

That wasn't what she wanted to hear. Quite frankly that picture was like gold dust in this environment. It made her sick just to imagine hordes of teen boys masturbating over her partially clad image. And the wider repercussions didn't bear thinking about. "Kevin, please, I'm begging you to delete it."

Kevin smiled, leaning in to her ear, a hand resting on her hip. "Tell you what miss, I'll think about it."

Chloe shivered as she felt his hand slide around to cup the left cheek of her bum. He squeezed until she pulled away with a gasp, her cheeks maroon. The schoolboy merely issued a knowing little wink, clearly revelling in the sense of advantage he held over his teacher. It was then that it dawned upon Chloe that she was in a deal of bother, a great deal of bother.

There was only one thing for it. She had to get that phone at all costs, and sooner rather than later. The one, the only, saving grace was that Kevin was perhaps the least popular boy in the whole sixth form. Chances were he hadn't passed it on to his friends, because he didn't have any. Chloe could see why now. He was an evil and manipulative little nerd who lived next door. She just had to get that damned phone before he wrecked her career, and perhaps her life. She could feel the tears welling up again but had to be strong.

Clearing her head with a black coffee, after a little investigation, she established her nemesis had games next. Hopefully that meant his jacket would be left unattended in the changing room. A plan was beginning to form. If Chloe timed it right she could sneak in, nab the phone and destroy the evidence during the lesson. Her heart started to thump hard against her left breast.

Hardly professional but she had to leave her class of third formers to their own devices half way through their lesson, sprinting across school. As she crept inside the boys' changing room furtively, the stench of sweaty shoes invaded her nostrils. Little time to hang around and risk being caught, the desperate teacher moved from peg to peg, searching for her tormentor's jacket. A triumphant "yes" escaped her lips as she espied his nametag sewn into the inner sleeve. What a nerd! Wresting the mobile phone from the pocket, she clenched her tiny fist in triumph.

Safely back outside, she dropped the phone to the concrete, spiking her heel into the glass face, before stamping up and down with the soul. Soon she'd wrecked the thing, broken it into pieces. "So you think you can get the better of me, huh Kevin Manning," she said under her breath, planning a bitter revenge.

Her joy was short-lived as, upon re-entering the classroom she was met by the headmaster. Ushering her outside, he thundered: "What is the meaning of leaving your class unattended, Miss Hunt?"

Chloe's bottom lip started to quiver. "Um, I'm...something came up...I...sorry"

"See me in my office after your class is finished."

Chloe bowed her head in shame. "Yes headmaster."

* * *

Chloe ambled into the headmaster's reception and was told to take a seat. A few minutes later her nemesis Kevin Manning showed up. Boldly she looked him straight in the eye, met with a counter sneer. She knew that he knew, but where was his proof? "I want to report my mobile phone stolen," he announced to the secretary, a sideways glance toward Chloe making her shuffle just a little uncomfortably.

At that moment she was summoned, the subsequent grilling from the headmaster leaving her teary-eyed yet relieved that it had been worth it. Her revealing picture had been destroyed. As a consequence, Chloe ambled down the corridor to the staffroom in good spirits. All that was left was to work out how to get even with that geek Kevin Manning. It was then that her breath was taken away as she was accosted from behind and dragged into a storeroom. "Get your hands off me," she protested.

Kevin pushed her back, foaming at the mouth. Yet it was Chloe that fired the first shot. "You are in so much trouble, Kevin Manning."

The schoolboy offered a look of disdain. "You think that stealing my phone is the end of this, you stupid bitch?"

Chloe wrinkled her nose, before snapping: "Don't you dare talk to me in that manner. I can and will make your life a misery."

"Oh can you now, Miss Hunt? Or should I call you Miss Cunt, you stupid, stupid bitch?"

Chloe was taken aback at the depth of his vitriol, at the words he used. Yet she stood her ground, determined not to let some nerdy schoolboy get the better of her. Nothing would give her greater pleasure than to help get him expelled. "Make the most of your last day at this school, Kevin."

Chloe turned away towards the door. In turn Kevin moved to block the way. He was no athlete but still towered six inches above the petite teacher. "Move!" she ordered, still in control of her emotions though her heart was racing.

"You didn't think that I'd take precautions?"

Chloe exhaled deeply. Precautions, what did he mean?

"Oh, Miss Hunt – stop acting like the blonde bimbo."

Chloe's mouth fell agape. "How dare you...?"

Before the sentence could be completed, Chloe felt Kevin's fingers grip her cheeks around the mouth, clamping it tight. "I forwarded your photo to my laptop, just in case."

Chloe's heart fell, her eyes moistening. She felt sick. All that risk and he was one, if not two, steps ahead of her. "So if you think this is over, Miss Cunt..."

Thankfully the bell came to Chloe's rescue, her schoolboy tormentor issuing a chilling prescient: "I'll deal with YOU later."

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Chloe followed out of the storeroom, dusting herself down and trying to recompose. This was serious as hell. She really had incurred the unhinged boy's wrath and he was likely to do anything.

Her next lesson went by in a blur, her head spinning. What she could do to stop the ordeal?

* * *

Post-lesson, and with lunchtime's arrival Chloe walked back past her own house where all of this had begun with the inadvertent exposure on the doorstep that morning. A ring on the doorbell of Kevin's house next door and a furtive look past the blinds through the front window seemed to suggest no one was home.

Heading around the back, out of sight of the road, Chloe searched for an open window. Bingo! There was one half open above the kitchen door, designed to be moved up and down, guillotine-like. It would be a tight squeeze but she was slender framed and could probably just about shimmy through. Heaving herself up, Chloe clung to the window frame for support, belly pressed to the cold glass. Pushing upward, her arms, head and shoulders found a way inside. Using all her reserves of strength, Chloe eased in up to waist, just her legs and bum left on the outside, almost there. "Damn you Kevin Manning for putting me through all this," she cursed beneath her breath.

It was then, just as she was about to congratulate herself on a job well done, that the window started to creak. All of a sudden it eased, descending the few inches to trap her spine like a mouse. "Oh my God," she puffed, legs kicking wildly, struggling to no avail.

But with her back clamped in this manner, there was no way in and definitely no way out. Each wriggle merely strained her stomach muscles and was painful as hell. As the realisation dawned, Chloe began to cry hollow, desperate tears. How could she have been so stupid? What on earth had she been thinking? This whole sorry situation was fast becoming her worst nightmare.

A couple of minutes elapsed in silent contemplation before the still was finally broken. "Oh so predictable, miss," rang out the familiar voice from behind.

"Kevin? Oh Kevin, help me out please."

"What exactly are you doing, Miss Cunt?"

"I was, um..."

Kevin snorted. "You were trying to steal my laptop, weren't you, just like you stole my phone?"

Chloe said nothing, little more than a barely audible whimper coming from her lips.

"Trying to break into my parent's house was a really dumb thing to do. God, you really are a brainless bimbo, aren't you."

Chloe could offer little defence.

"Look up to your left, miss."

Chloe obeyed, craning as far as her neck would allow. Up in the corner was a CCTV camera, its lens pointing straight back accusingly. The pretty schoolteacher gasped in surprise.

"My dad's very security conscious and with good reason, it seems. Who'd have thought, Miss Cunt a burglar?"

"Please help me, Kevin," she pleaded helplessly.

"You do need help, miss, more perhaps than you realise. You see my dad will check the tape tonight when he gets home from work, and I wouldn't want to be in your shoes when he finds out."

"Oh God, Kevin, no..."

"At best I reckon you'll lose your job, at worst, who knows? The police will almost certainly have to be called. But then again my dad might just take matters into his own hands..."

Chloe drew a breath. Unlike his geeky son, Frank Manning was a most intimidating man, more brawn than brain. How he'd fathered Kevin, God alone knew. One trait they did share, however, was a real creepiness. "You won't let that happen, will you Kevin?"

"That depends, miss."

"Depends...depends on what...?"

"On whether you agree to do everything I say...until I grow bored of you."

"Oh, no way Kevin, there's no way in the world..."

"We'll see, miss. And you're not exactly in the best position to negotiate right now, are you?"

Chloe whispered a "no".

Changing tack, Kevin continued: "You may not have noticed, miss, but there are some offices opposite the house. It's their lunchtime in five minutes and some of them use the side of the house to get to the pub. All they've got to do is glance over the wall and they'll see your cute little arse hanging out the window."

As if to accentuate the point, the schoolboy slapped the overhanging butt, causing Chloe to squeal. He chuckled in sheer pleasure.

"Please Kevin, help me out of here, I'm begging you."

Chloe trembled as she felt his clammy hand move from her rump to stroke the smooth flesh of her inner thigh. At the same time he lifted his teacher's airy skirt, folding it at her hips to expose the shapely backside. Chloe's whimpers turned to desperate pleas. "Kevin, no..."

It was to no avail and she shivered as the lacy red panties were loosened at the hips, drawn down over her thighs, past her knees, down her calves and manoeuvred over her shoes. Her breath racing, Chloe felt the warm air brush against her exposed pussy. "Mmm, you wear the knickers of a dirty whore," Kevin commented, before going oddly silent.

"Kevin?"

Chloe heard the unmistakeable sound of a zip being drawn down and a little grunt of pleasure fall from her tormentor's lips. "Oh God, Kevin, what are you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing? I'm wanking myself in your slut panties, Miss Cunt. Oh fuck, yesssss."

Chloe's face contorted, though she couldn't see and glad of the fact.

"Oh yes, oh fuck yesssssss..." Kevin mouthed hoarsely.

Evidently no athlete, the sixth former came in under a minute, his orgasm marked by a tiny groan.

Suddenly Chloe flinched as she felt the panties back at her ankles, then smoothed back up her shapely legs. She felt the dewy deposit smear the tops of her thighs and rub against her pussy. The schoolboy wasted no time grinding his fingers into the moist crotch, pressing the lacy material and the remnants of his seed inside Chloe's soft pussy. Kevin worked the digits back and forth for thirty seconds. "Ohhhhhhh," Chloe groaned, battling not to let him turn her on.

But it was, whether she cared to admit it or not.

"Will you agree to do anything I say?" he prompted.

"Nooooooo," she maintained.

"Two minutes, miss, two minutes and you'll be on public display."

"Kevin, no, please. Please help me out of here. I will...I WILL do anything you say."

He paused as if contemplating. "That means ANYTHING, miss?"

"Yes, anything – just get me out of here."

Reaching over, the schoolboy worked the window up from Chloe's spine, allowing her to slide back out from whence she'd come.

She stood facing him, shifting uncomfortably. She could feel the dampness of the panties against her pussy, his seed rubbing against her.

"Fuck me around and you'll be dealing with my dad. Be nice and he may never get to know."

"You'll destroy the CCTV footage?"

"I'll think about it. But first things first, I want my mobile phone back."

Chloe winced before confessing she'd trashed it.

"You did what, you stupid whore?" he thundered, causing Chloe to whimper.

"I'll replace it."

"Damn right you will. No, not just replace it – upgrade it. I want one of those brand new ultra thin ones your boyfriend's got and I want it now."

Chloe felt the spiny fingers of fear grip her soul. This kid seemed to know everything, not just about her but Jack too. "Have you been watching Jack and me?"

"Yes miss, I watched you last night."

Chloe gulped. "W-what exactly d-did you s-see?"

"I saw him giving you a massage."

Momentarily Chloe forgot her ordeal, swamped by fond reminiscences of the previous night. Jack's touch had been so strong, so sure she'd almost cum without vaginal stimulation. When finally they did make love she was as wet as a bath sponge. But now the memory was contaminated by the thought of Kevin spying on them. Oh, why oh why had she gone out on the step in just her underwear?

"Come on miss, I want that phone."

Their visit into town drew odd looks from Kevin's fellow pupils, Chloe trying to keep a couple of steps in front of behind to disassociate from the teen geek. But Kevin was having none of it, patting her arse like a long term lover.

Chloe was glad to arrive in town, buying the phone Kevin craved without question. A hefty chunk on her credit card it was a small price to pay. "Are we even now?" she asked in hopeful anticipation as Kevin surveyed his new toy proudly.

Kevin's eyebrows lowered. "Even? EVEN?" he raged.

"So what is it you want from me?" Chloe entreated, not really wanting to hear the answer, one which Kevin evaded in any event.

"Let's get back to school."





Teacher Training



Kevin made small talk on the way, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do and with the school gates coming into sight, he stopped her. "I think you'd better lose those dirty smelly panties, don't you miss?"

Chloe looked over quizzically as gangs of pupils filtered past. "What, here?"

Kevin went into thoughtful mode. There would be time enough for the real humiliation to begin. He was enjoying the slow build-up. "Just make sure they're removed before the lesson. And I want you to call me Sir from now on."

Chloe grimaced. It had escaped her memory that the first period after lunch was Kevin's English class. "Well, I'll see you shortly, miss," he announced, leaning in close.

"Kevin...Sir...no, not here," she gasped as he made to kiss her.

Every passing eye seemed to be on them as Kevin stroked her cheek. Chloe pulled away. As she departed hastily she knew she would be made to pay later for the indiscretion. However, her head was in such turmoil that she was happy just to survive from minute to minute.

Safely ensconced in the staff toilet Chloe climbed out of the panties, running her thumb guiltily over the still moistened crotch before slipping them in her bag. Thankfully she had a relatively modest skirt on, knee length and airy, but it was a skirt nonetheless, and she'd be conscious until home time that she was totally bare beneath.

The class of a dozen sixth formers was already assembled as their flustered teacher made her entrance, eyes glancing over anxiously at Kevin. Seated at the back and alone as ever, he smirked her way. Despite rationing the glances in his direction, she could feel his eyes boring into her midriff throughout the early stages of the lesson.

Chloe sighed inwardly. It wasn't as if it was just Kevin that concerned her. What if he'd told the others in the class? What if they all knew their teacher was panty-less? Chloe gulped, addressing the forum in a shaky voice, convinced they could see her pussy through the light fabric of the skirt. For some reason that made her tingle, a glistening of wetness forming around her labia. In turn, her skirt soaked up the juices like blotting paper, leaving a little stain.

Setting a reading task to take their eyes off her, much to Chloe's relief quickly they became engrossed. Cowering behind the desk, she fanned her face and willed the clock to move faster. No such luck, she looked up startled as Kevin called her to the back of the class. Grudgingly she ambled over to his side. "Quicker next time," he growled beneath his breath, his eyes angry slits.

"Yes Sir," Chloe whispered.

"That's good, you're learning," he whispered back.

Chloe gasped as his palm grazed the back of her calf, rising to meet the flesh at her hamstring. Within seconds the clammy hand was up inside her skirt, stroking the soft creamy thigh. Thankfully, if were any consolation, the rest of the class were so engrossed in their reading that no one glanced back.

For if they had they'd have seen Kevin's probing fingers find his teacher's slick slit, circling gently. "Stay there," he warned with menace in his voice.

Rooted to the spot, Chloe bit down on her bottom lip. She could feel her face cheeks blush a deep purple and the sweat trickle down her neck and tickle her breasts. She fought to deny the feeling of sexual pleasure, but it was a vain quest. She tried her utmost to stifle the groan that forced its way out, along with a little bead of cunt juice that trickled down her inner thigh.

Growing ever bolder, Kevin pushed a single digit upward, splitting the tight moist crack. His fingers set her alight, made her pound and her body buzz in uncontrollable spasms. Finding her clit he gave it a tweak. The stirrings in her loins were hard to bear, even harder to deny. She almost cried out and betrayed herself. She wanted to be bent over the desk and fucked deep and hard. No, no, no. Nooooooo. "That's all miss, thank you," Kevin announced, unplugging the juice laden finger and sucking it clean with a joyous smile.

Chloe fled to the front of the class, the urge to break down in tears overwhelming. As she sat down in the chair her juicy pussy squelched, the need to have it filled again almost unbearable. Yet she had to resist, if only for the rapidly diminishing remnants of her dignity.

For the rest of the lesson Kevin's eyes burned into her unerringly. It came as little surprise when the bell rang and the class dispersed that Kevin remained behind like a bad smell. "I enjoyed today's lesson, did you too miss?"

Chloe's eyes bulged. "No Sir, I hated every minute of it. If you had any respect for me..."

The sentence hung in the air as Kevin swung at his teacher's pussy with a clawed hand, gathering up the light material. Chloe whimpered as his fingers entered her once more, the skirt forced inside her wet cunt. "Oh God, not here Sir," she pleaded.

He grinned. "Mmmm, so you want to, but somewhere else, huh?"

Chloe nodded miserably. She had to lie to get this over and if having sex brought the torment to an end it was the price she had to pay.

"So, your place tonight?" he suggested, idly pushing at her sex, his thumb rubbing all around her clit.

"I can't, not tonight...I'm..."

"Whatever it is, cancel it. Oh, I bet it's that boyfriend of yours?"

Chloe nodded dejectedly.

"Okay, I want you to phone him right now."

Chloe went to protest but thought better of it, reaching inside her bag for the mobile phone.

"That's a crap phone you have, miss," he chuckled.

Chloe's eyes misted. "Hi honey, it's me...something's come up at school. I know...I love you too, yes I will."

As Chloe put the phone away, Kevin could hardly contain his joy. "See you at eight," he mouthed. "Oh, and shave that hairy pussy, it's like a jungle down there."

Chloe sat down, head in hands and let her emotions run to the fore.

* * *

The five hours passed like the final hours of a death row prisoner, the deflated young teacher praying that hers was a quick release. She hoped Kevin would be so overcome with lust that he'd shoot his load as quickly as he had earlier in the garden. Or that he'd grow bored once he knew how easily he could have her. Then she could get back on with her life. There was, however, a niggling feeling at the back of her mind that it wouldn't be quite that simple. But she had to cling onto some hope. If only things had worked out differently...

If only things had worked out differently...? How many times had those words plagued her today?

Had the front door not shut...

Had she not trashed Kevin's phone...

Had she not tried to break into his parent's house...

But for those things she'd be in the arms of her lover now, and not anticipating a night of whatever sordid fantasies her least favourite pupil harboured in his evil little mind. But things hadn't worked out differently and Chloe was at his whim, his plaything for the evening. She pictured him next door, up in his bedroom, getting ready for her as she was for him, shaving the pubes from between her legs to create a smooth groove.

Twenty minutes later the doorbell rang and her heart plunged as she drew up all the inner steel she could muster, creeping slowly towards it, not wanting to get there. She willed Kevin to go away, to leave her alone, to pick on someone else. Her eyes welled up uncontrollably, and she brushed away the tears, reminding herself to be brave. She could get through this, couldn't she? Stealing a deep breath, gingerly Chloe opened the door.

Her mouth fell agape as she was presented not with Kevin but with her lover Jack, clasping a bottle of wine and a crooked smile. "Jack? Oh Jack..."

He shot back an apologetic look. "I'm sorry Chloe but you sounded so down on the phone earlier...I thought I'd come round on the off chance...and, well, here you are."

Chloe glanced anxiously over his shoulder, no sign of the nefarious schoolboy. He wouldn't be far away but what could she do? Turn Jack away? Ushering her lover inside, she melted into his strong arms, feeling safe, temporarily at least. A reprieve had arrived and even the psychotic Kevin couldn't surely risk it with Jack in the house.

"Is everything okay, baby?"

"It is now," she replied with a genuine smile, the relief literally pouring out of her.

Jack uncorked the bottle in the kitchen as Chloe shadowed him like a lost lamb. He poured two large glasses, Chloe grabbing hers and swigging like it was water. Oh how she needed that. Taking Jack's strong hand she led him to the couch, an anxious glance to her right, through the front window and into the street. No, she convinced herself, Kevin would be mad to chance it. Jack would smash the living daylights out of the little geek. Her aura had returned and with it the desire for her manly lover.

Reaching aside, she rubbed the thick ridge at the front of Jack's jeans, eliciting a moan of appreciation. Leaning back, he allowed the pretty teacher to wrestle down the zip, extracting the thick cock, cradling and stroking it playfully. Jack could barely believe his luck. Lost in the moment and the culmination of a day's worth of sexual tension, Chloe forgot that the curtains remained partially open, the first flush of dusk clouding the evening.

Eagerly she stroked the member to its full hardness, marvelling at the sight of its expansion. Imbued with Dutch courage, she went down on her lover for the first time, taking the engorged head between her wine soaked lips. Flicking an eager tongue tip over the eye she tasted Jack's precious precum. "Oh baby, yeah" he groaned, raking a set of fingers through the blonde locks.

Chloe ran a velveteen tongue around the crown, sucking with purpose, tasting the gorgeous head, her saliva laced with wine. Glancing up she locked eyes with her lover. "I love you, Jack," she confided.

It was at that moment that the mood was broken by the harsh rap at the front door. Chloe felt a shiver caress her body, letting the cock slip from her mouth. Almost breaking down in tears, she looked into space inanely. "It's okay I'll get it," said Jack, secreting the bloated manhood back inside his jeans as he stood.

Chloe shrank into the sofa, trying to make herself invisible. Her breath held almost solidly for the next three minutes, she tried to listen and not to listen in equal measure.

Finally Jack returned to the lounge, a puzzled expression on his face and clutching a huge bouquet of flowers. "Some young guy just delivered these," he mused. "Chloe, is there something you should tell me?"

Chloe's face reddened and a veil of tears threatened to fall. No words would come.

"Shit, there's another guy, isn't there?"

"Nooooooo," she wailed, unable to explain, feeling Kevin's eerie presence close by.

Jack looked on incredulously. "I...I can't believe this. I thought we...damn Chloe."

He too looked close to tears, masked by a wave of anger.

"Jack, honestly..."

Jack threw his arms in the air, losing it. "You cheap slut," he spat, reaching to grab her by the wrist. "All this time you've been with me you've been fucking some other guy."

"Nooooooo..."

Her blouse tore like paper in his hand, the buttons down the front popping open to expose her braless breasts. Jack stared, shaking his head furiously. "Since when did you...no bra?"

Chloe went to speak but her throat was dry. Jack was leering at her naked torso whilst fiddling with his own shirt buttons. "Well if you want to act like a slut I'll sure enough treat you like one."

Chloe squealed. Never before had she seen him this way. The gentle exterior was exposed as a mere veneer, the rage deep and thunderous. Reaching down, he moved swiftly, her skirt coming away easily in his strong clutches to reveal no panties and the freshly shaven pussy. Jack surveyed the sight with utter disdain. "Is that what HE likes?" he bellowed.

Chloe wailed, the scene unfolding before her eyes almost in slow motion. Off came her lover's jeans with urgency, his cock standing up like a flagpole, the head like a giant bruised strawberry. "Well?" he prompted. "Does HE like you to shave your cunt like some cheap whore?"

Chloe was unable to respond. Even if she'd been able to issue a denial, Jack's mouth was quickly clamped hard to hers, stiflingly. No longer tender like the lover she'd known so well, this was rough and uncompromising, his tongue pressed hard into her mouth as she whimpered back. Her tiny clenched hands made fists that punched at his chest to no avail, the wide-eyed brute cornering her against the wall. His arms either side formed a trap. "Is this how you like it with HIM – up against the wall?"

Over his shoulder Chloe thought she saw a dark figure through the window, a pair of motionless and emotionless eyes staring back. She tried to duck beneath his arms but Jack was too fast, capturing her and hoisting her up against the wall, toes grazing the carpet. His hands held firm beneath each thigh as he pinned her, his angry cock making several fruitless attempts to stab at her pussy.

He was manic, calling her every slut name under the sun, salivating at the mouth. Her hands bounced off his body as ineffectual punches rained down, her elbows coming to rest upon his shoulders for support when her strength was sapped. Repeatedly he thrust, trying to find a way inside. Twisting his buttocks to gain leverage, finally Jack's fiery cock head found the soft recess of her pussy mouth, her nails scraping his shoulders. The cunt lips petalled unwillingly to receive the invading tip which in turn sent a shiver through the frightened young teacher's body. "Oh that's it, you filthy whore. I bet you're even thinking about HIM now, wishing it was his cock in you and not mine."

"Nooooooo," she cried, fighting back weakly, a token resistance.

Jack grinned, revelling in the spirit she displayed. "That's it, fight me baby. God I'm gonna hurt you good. Is he bigger than me, is he huh honey?"

Chloe tried hard to dispel the image of Kevin's sneering face, but it was impossible, particularly as he was out there right now spying, witnessing her relationship disintegrate and her world collapse inwardly.

Powerless to prevent Jack's insistent and uncompromising advances, Chloe finally submitted fully, spreading her legs wide to receive the whole shaft in one massive thrust that split her pussy and nudged her cervix. "Owwwwwww," she screamed, banging her fists at his neck, her breasts crushed against his strong chest as he lifted the helpless waif into him.

"Take it all, bitch," he roared, retracting and slamming another length of rock hard cock into her cunt.

"Nooooooo."

"Yesssssss," he retorted, working the length of pipe in and out with purpose, buttocks working unyieldingly.

Chloe tried to close her mind, tried not to let the assault arouse her. Yet Jack's newfound dominance and the thought of Kevin out there watching soon overcame her weak body. Her clit needed little stimulation at the best of times and combined with the feel of her nipples chafing on Jack's manly chest, it wasn't long before Chloe was dripping wet, taking each pounding with a thrilled moan. Yet above everything, the trouble she'd be in with her schoolboy tormentor after tonight didn't bear thinking about. It was almost enough to make her cum.

"Oh you dirty cock craving tramp," Jack cried as his buttocks pumped. "Tell me what you are."

"I'm a dirty cock craving tramp. Oh God, Jack, use me like the slut I am," she begged.

Jack shot back another look of disdain and another length of cock, working more intently than ever. Chloe felt he might pierce her womb at any moment, her fingernails embedded deep in his strong shoulders, drawing the flesh, her knees up by his armpits. The wall took the full brunt, every slam vibrating around the room. Running short of breath, Jack eased back a step, his hands behind Chloe's shoulders, her back arching as he fed each nipple into his mouth, sucking, licking then biting.

Chloe's body was aflame, her moans becoming screams, her juices drenching the thick shaft that worked unyieldingly in and out of her soft cunt. "Fill me with your thick seed, Jack," she pleaded. "Oh God I'm sooooooo close."

Once more Jack forced her to the wall, banging relentlessly. The orgasm felt like an electric shock around Chloe's clit and she screamed like a banshee. "Pump your spunk up inside me, please Jack."

Jack shook his head from side to side, his face clouded. "Get on your knees, you slut. You don't deserve my cum in you."

Chloe was taken aback but did what she was told unquestioningly, looking up to see his fist blurring at his midriff, wanking away furiously. Jack grunted as he came with the ferocity of an exploding hydrant, despatching a lasso of thick spunk at Chloe's waiting face. It lashed at her lips and nose, her mouth clamped tight. "Open," commanded her lover. "Open your fucking mouth."

Chloe obeyed, the next wad spraying and coating her tongue. Before she had time to consider spitting, Jack's cock plugged the tiny opening, and he groaned as he emptied his balls in diminishing amounts. He held the thick cock in place until Chloe gagged and swallowed ever drop. Shaking his head as he pulled away, he said with venom: "I'll see you around – not."

"Jack..." she pleaded, still gurgling down his cum. "Jack, please..."

Her ex-lover held his hands aloft. Dragging up his jeans he was gone, the door slamming. Chloe followed, espying the envelope on the floor. The message read simply: Hope you like the flowers. I'll deal with you tomorrow.

Chloe felt her body quiver.

*

I have one or two ideas for a follow-up but would welcome reader's suggestions and will try to weave the nastiest, most perverted ones into a sequel. As ever, all feedback is appreciated.



Teacher Training Ch. 02



Many thanks for your suggestions. I've incorporated what I can in this chapter and will use some of the other ideas in future chapters if sufficient interest exists.

*

Chloe Hunt was in trouble again at school and this time it was serious. In frustration the petite schoolteacher had inexplicably lashed out at one of her third formers and now she stood before the headmaster like one of those misbehaving tykes. Mr Mason looked exasperated. "If there's one thing you can't do these days Miss Hunt, it's striking the pupils," he sighed, as if she needed reminding.

Chloe stood shamefaced, her career in tatters, her life an abject mess. Mumbled apologies went unheeded. "Come closer, Miss Hunt."

Chloe shuffled forward. She stood face to face with Mr Mason, even though he remained seated. A towering presence in the mould of a 1950's master, he was still able to recall fondly the days when corporal punishment was encouraged. Nowadays, however, there was no excuse. Chloe knew it too, her lapse unforgivable. "It's a shame for you're a good teacher, popular with the students and the teachers.

The words cut like a scalpel. "Is there anything I can do?" she pleaded.

She knew of course that the moment the snotty nosed brat she'd backhanded squealed to his parents she was finished, but she had to cling to something. "Is there anything YOU can do, Mr Mason?" she appealed with doe eyes.

"Oh I think it's too late for that, don't you, Miss Hunt?"

Chloe's eyes filled with tears. "There must be something you can do to help me."

The wily old headmaster rubbed at his chin. "You want me to pull a few strings to get you off the hook, Miss Hunt?"

He seemed to be coming round to her way of thinking, assisted no doubt by Chloe's pretty persuasion. She had been able to twist men around her little finger from an early age. It was a blonde thing. Chloe nodded enthusiastically as he proceeded to lecture her on how he kept a tight ship at the school, how he couldn't tolerate teachers taking the law into their own hands...blah, blah, blah...

Chloe felt like she was drowning in a sea of words, not really hearing and only rousing when the tirade ended. "Sorry?" she queried, thinking she must have heard incorrectly.

"I said come and bend yourself over my knee, Miss Hunt."

Chloe's eyed bulged. He had said those words. It was unthinkable yet she found herself obeying. Mr Mason's lap was firm, ably supporting her belly, her toes stretched for support on the wooden floor, palms flat the other side. She could feel the old man's eyes boring into her body, surveying each aesthetic curve. A tiny whimper slipped from her pursed lips as she waited in anticipation.

A huge hand took hold of her thigh, sliding the tiny skirt up over the peachiest butt imaginable. Chloe shivered all over, breath held tight. Sure thumbs hooked inside the waistbands of her panties, shifting them down to rest on the backs of her knees. As she awaited her fate, Chloe wondered how many other girls had been in this position before, back in the days when such things were allowable – or more recently perhaps. Maybe this was what the old pervert had wanted all along.

She gasped as the warm air of the study brushed over the moistness of her pussy. "You know what happens to naughty little girls," mused Mr Mason.

Though it was a rhetorical question, Chloe felt compelled to answer. "Yes Sir, they get punished Sir."

She flinched as the headmaster's warm hands reached beneath to her flat stomach, elevating so that the sweet young arse plumped up. Chloe held her breath in growing anticipation, a tingle deep in her loins.

SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!

"Ow-eeeeeee," she cried, biting her bottom lip. "Ow, ow, ow."

She could picture the satisfaction on the old man's face. And feel it on hers too. For in spite of the numb discomfort in the rose-blushed cheeks, the overwhelming feeling was one of arousal. It was so intense her pussy had leaked a sticky deposit on the headmaster's grey slacks...

* * *

The pretty teacher cried out loud, jolting up in bed as the dream replayed in a mind that had become beset with kinky musings. Thighs rubbing together, her soaking wet pussy from the dream had found its way into reality, her bald lips soaked with cunt juice. "Oh my God," she whispered.

Allowing a brief moment to let her mind un-fog, she fought to disassociate dream from reality. For once, however, her dreams were less bizarre than reality, the events of the previous day reverberating in a troubled mind. Hard to believe, but this time yesterday her life had been following a normal, dare she admit boring, path. In twenty-four hours everything had been turned on its head by young blackmailer Kevin Manning.

Finally composing, she rose from the bed, immediately sensing a numb pain between her legs, courtesy of ex-boyfriend Jack's brutal assault. Tiptoeing to the bathroom she surveyed the smattering of small brown bruises that littered her inner thighs and hips. After a soothing shower, she heard the mobile phone bleep. The text message read simply: It's a hot day, dress appropriately, see you at school, K.

Riffling through the line of hanging garments Chloe searched for something suitable to please Kevin, her hand drawn magnetically to the skirt she'd last sported as a carefree teenager. Peach in colour, it was terrifyingly tiny and she shivered at the thought, wrestling with her better nature. A sheer cream blouse, almost see through, caught her attention and she wondered whether panties and bra were allowable. Locating a little frilly white set in the drawer, the teacher was prepared to face the consequences were she mistaken. Her highest heels, normally reserved for clubbing, completed the look, a look that screamed 'slut'.

The walk to school was an awkward one, not just the awkward clicky heels but on account of a belief that all eyes were on her. It ranged from the parents dropping off the really young ones at infant school, to the pubescent teens who harboured outrageous wank fantasies, to the older ones who issued lecherous grins and her fellow teachers who didn't know quite what to make of this bizarre transition from librarian to hooker.

One consolation was that her first two classes were with eleven and twelve-year olds that still regarded her as an authority figure rather than a sex object. A few gave her odd looks but she could brush it off easily. Miraculously, lunchtime came around uneventfully though she did ensure to keep an eye open for Kevin Manning.

As it transpired, he'd been sitting an exam all morning, out of harm's way. Consequently her early optimism was misplaced as the headmaster summoned her to his study after lunch. What have I done now? She thought. Oh God, he wasn't going to pull her up on these clothes, was he? Chloe trudged along to the office with the previous night's dream playing heavily on her mind. Surely he wouldn't spank her, would he?

"Miss Hunt..." Mr Mason intoned sternly and Chloe found herself almost in tears just at hearing her name. "Miss Hunt...I know you're fairly new at this school but you mustn't let the children take advantage of you."

Take advantage of her? What did he mean? She could feel her cheeks blush profusely and her underarms moisten with the sweat of fear. Oh gosh, he hadn't found about Kevin, had he? Within seconds Chloe's cheeks were radiating a deep beetroot hue.

"Your blouse, Miss Hunt."

Chloe's eyebrows elevated and her mouth formed a round tunnel. "My blouse, Sir?"

"The back of your blouse, Miss Hunt."

Twisting to try to see, Chloe's fingers groped at the buttons.

"Not here, Miss Hunt," he boomed, the words turning Chloe's cheeks even more bloodshot, if that were possible.

Excusing herself with a dainty curtsey, the pretty blonde trotted over to the staff toilet, heels click-clicking on the way. Ensuring she was alone, hastily the blouse was removed, her cute little breasts, held in place by what amounted to a band of lace around the centre, a couple of daringly cut half cups and two spaghetti straps, reflected back from the mirror.

Chloe's face clouded as the cause of the headmaster's irritation was revealed. Some little swine had inked a swastika on the back. She hadn't felt a thing and had no idea how long she'd been walking around like that on her back, the embarrassment prompting a flood of tears.

Before she'd really given the matter much thought the hot tap was steaming and the blouse was being doused, the fabric rubbed against itself vigorously as she strove to remove the offending mark. Regrettably the stain merely blotted and ran, ingrained in the thread. The best she could do was to make it look less like a swastika and more like a shapeless blob of diluted blue. Yet now, not only did she have a stained blouse but a soaking wet one. Suddenly the realisation dawned that the hand dryer was painfully slow and ineffective, little better than using one's own breath. As if to compound the situation, the bell droned to signal the start of lessons.

Miserably Chloe slipped back into the wet and diaphanous blouse that clung to her body like a second skin, revealing her bra and the cleft of her bosom quite clearly. She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. Looking left then right around the door, the corridor was thronging with pupils moving busily to lessons. She winced as the normally light blouse weighed heavily on her slender frame, the bra having absorbed the excess moisture and rubbing against her nipples, causing them to point accusingly. Memories of a drunken entry into a wet t-shirt contest in Ibiza as a teenager sprung to mind.

When eventually the corridor was adjudged to have thinned out sufficiently, Chloe made the daring exit. Immediately her breasts heaved, squelching together. She prayed that the walk from the toilet to the classroom would dry the blouse, yet the corridor was no heat trap, the opposite in fact. As a chill draft blew through, her nipples throbbed and expanded, threatening to erupt through the front. "Oh my God," she mouthed, fanning frantically with an open palm.

As the classroom door came into sight her stride slowed, not really wanting to arrive, yet already five minutes late. The hum of the fourth formers inside rose like an aeroplane's approach the nearer she crept. Stealing a huge lungful of breath, Chloe executed the entry. The class stopped chattering immediately, a rare first. All mouths were agape at their teacher's damp apparel and eye-popping boobs. "Is it raining outside, miss?" one impish boy chimed.

The entire class erupted in laughter and it was all Chloe could do to bring order. Appealing for silence as the wet blouse clasped at her boobs, she tried to wrest back control, but fighting a losing battle.

It was then, as if to save her further humiliation, that the door pushed open. All eyes turned right, bringing a semblance of relief to the red faced schoolteacher, no longer the focus of attention. It was a short lived relief, however, for in the doorway stood her prime nemesis Kevin Manning. He looked her up and down as if addressing a carcass before speaking: "Excuse me miss, the headmaster wants you in his office now, miss."

"Oooooooh," chorused the class.

Turning to the rabble and waving her hands agitatedly, Chloe warned: "One peep from this classroom while I'm gone and it's detention for the lot of you."

A hollow threat, even as she spoke, Chloe could feel her authority evaporating. Tottering off in the unaccustomed heels, she ducked beneath Kevin's arm, outstretched in a gentlemanly manner to hold the door open. He betrayed himself by giving her arse a good slap as she passed. "Fall in the pool, miss?"

Chloe glared. "I wouldn't mind betting you were behind this, Kevin Manning."

"Me, miss?" he replied with an outward look of innocence that belied the evil schemer within. "It seems to me, miss, that there's no one but your stupid self to blame."

Chloe held a tight lip until the corner was safely negotiated and they were out of earshot. She yearned for the blouse to dry off miraculously before the headmaster's office, but it was still sopping wet. The frustration coming to a head, she pulled up sharply. "Now look here, Kevin Manning..." she cried, prodding a finger in his face.

The sixth former brushed away the slender digit with utter disdain. At that moment it dawned on Chloe, why would the headmaster send a sixth former to collect her? But by then it was too late. The geeky sixth former jerked, forcing her inside the storeroom, slamming the door shut to swathe them in grey darkness.

"I've missed you, miss. Have you missed me?"

"Kevin, no," she pleaded as he strove to force his lips to hers.

"Don't fight me or you'll end up the loser," he threatened. "And when did I say you could stop calling me Sir?"

SLAP.

"Ow," she whimpered, more from surprise than pain, gingerly touching her cheek. "Sorry Sir. I won't do it again, Sir."

With that she let him have his kiss, cringing as the lizard like tongue darted against her lips. Consenting to open, she allowed it inside the warm welcoming mouth, startling as a hand rose to cup a breast. The blouse squelched and as Kevin's palm grazed across the outer edge of the nipple she moaned back into his mouth. Clamping his thumb and forefinger around the erect teat, Kevin rolled it back and forth. Chloe almost forgot her hatred for a moment, consumed by a weird lust. For a nerd, he seemed to know the right moves to push her buttons. But then he had been watching her long enough.

Chloe felt ready to submit her body to him, reaching to feel his cock through the denim.

Footsteps outside alerted the unholy alliance, the storeroom door suddenly pushed open to allow in a sheet of light. Quickly the pair secreted in the darkest corner, Chloe's back pressed tight to Kevin's chest, her soft arse to his crotch. She could feel the powerful erection digging in. Thankfully Kevin had one hand over his teacher's mouth, for her breathing alone would surely have given the game away. The other hand strayed dangerously close to her pussy, but no longer were Chloe's passions quite so keen, overtaken by fear.

In stepped the headmaster, three quarters of the storeroom lit by the artificial light of the corridor. The pair were concealed but only just. Blissfully unaware of their presence, Mr Mason scanned the shelves as if looking for something in particular. Chloe grimaced as Kevin adjusted slightly, his hard cock prodding deeper into the crack of her bum.

Gratefully the headmaster found what he was looking for quickly, turning to exit. As the door closed and restored the semi-dark, Chloe pushed away both of Kevin's hands before exhaling loudly, a massive sigh of relief.

"Wasn't that exciting?" observed Kevin nonchalantly, but then he had nowhere near as much to lose.

Chloe shook her head silently, willing the ordeal to end. It was then that she heard a key turn outside and the storeroom door lock shut. "Oh my God!" she cried. "We're trapped."

"Mmm, alone with your favourite student and all the time in the world. Shame I've lost my enthusiasm."

Chloe wasn't tempted in the least to reach down to find out. "You may be finished for the day, Sir, but I've a group of fourth formers without a teacher. Do you really want me to get fired, Sir?"

She heard him rub his chin thoughtfully in the semi-dark.

"Please help me, Sir."

Kevin mulled things over for a minute. "Okay, this might help in the short term. Why don't you phone Mr Andrews? I'm sure he'll cover the lesson for you until we can get out. Here, use my phone."

Jeff Andrews was the games teacher, a thickset rugby enthusiast who'd made it patently clear he wanted Chloe. Though the feeling wasn't mutual, understandably she'd used the situation to her advantage, winning favours with her feminine wiles whilst keeping him at arm's length. Now she needed a massive favour. As the phone unfolded, it lit up the room like Christmas.

Chloe lapsed easily into her finest little-girl-lost voice. "Hello Jeff, it's Chloe...hi. My mum's been taken ill and I have to dash off. Please, please, please could you keep an eye on my fourth formers in room eight?"

Grudgingly the games teacher accepted, with the proviso that she owed him a big drink, after which Chloe sat down to ponder. They could be stuck here for hours. Five minutes passed, then five more.

Suddenly Kevin sprang up, mounting a shelf and scrambling up. Above his head a feint dusty square of light hung in the air. Chloe heard the air vent being removed and saw a square passageway open. "No way, Sir...nooooooo way."

"You want to get out, don't you? Or do you want to get found in the storeroom with one of your pupils?"

He had a point. Dejectedly she stood.

Kevin helped her up, wasting no opportunity to paw at her bum as the agile schoolteacher squeezed into the recess. Chloe spluttered as a face full of dust blew up. Shimmying through on her belly, she prayed there were no rats. A short yet exhausting snake-like crawl, marvellously there was light at the end of the tunnel.

Looking through the slats into the corridor, the coast seemed clear. Lowering the vent she climbed out, quickly joined by Kevin who issued a sadistic smile. His dark clothes and jeans brushed down easily but Chloe's cream blouse and peach skirt were caked in muck. With her hands and cheeks charcoal black, she looked like a chimney sweep. "Oh dear miss, what a mess you seem to have made of yourself."

Chloe sprinted for the exit, unable to escape the school quickly enough, furtive glances around like a truant. At least off-site there was less chance of encountering those that knew her, though the strangers she passed on the jog home offered quizzical looks at the once respectable woman who now resembled a Victorian street urchin. To make matters worse, a huge shower of rain fell. Frankly though Chloe was past caring and it was with immense relief that the door finally closed and she was able to savour the sanctuary of the shower.

* * *

At 4.30 Chloe received a text message: Hope your mum's ok, Jeff."

Guiltily she returned a text of thanks, met by the words: I'm just finishing up here, how about that drink? Meet me in the sports hall.

It seemed as much a command as a request, but how could she possibly refuse? In fact, right now she needed an ally more than anything else in the world.

* * *

Games master Jeff Andrews herded the players inside the changing rooms with congratulatory words and pats on the shoulders for both teams. That away team was a big bunch of bastards for eighteen and nineteen-year olds, he mused, after they'd trounced his boys. Heading to his office, he failed to notice that someone had broken in and used his mobile phone. Of course, Kevin Manning was careful to delete all trace of his actions, hovering out of sight and waiting for the fun to begin.

* * *

As Chloe Hunt arrived, the last of the rugby players was filtering inside to the changing rooms. Following on, she looked in the sports hall for Jeff. Strangely there was no sign. Wandering back out, she went to remove her mobile phone to text him when she barged into a hefty prop. She just about retained her balance, glaring back. "Excu-u-use me," she said a little sarcastically, waiting hands on hips for the apology.

The prop just gave a snort. "You should look where you're going, darling."

Darling? Chloe felt her blood boil. After all the indignity served up that day she wasn't going to be spoken to like that from some jumped-up teenager, how ever big he was. Crossing her arms, she fronted out the Goliath. "Well, are you going to say sorry or am I going to put you on detention, young man?"

The rugby player chuckled. Little did this bitch of a teacher know he was from the opposing school, or what he did to stuck-up butches like her. "I'll show you how sorry I am," he mouthed, thrusting forward to pin her up against the wall.




Teacher Training Ch. 02



Chloe screamed a fearful sound before a huge hand covered her mouth. Gathering up the petite teacher in his powerful arms, the prop wrestled her into the away team's changing room where a mob of heavily built, mud splattered brutes of triple-X proportions glanced up in various states of undress. A collective grin ran around the sweat-ridden congregation. "Looks like the post-match entertainment has arrived," enthused a man mountain with a huge round shaved head, cauliflower ears and a flat nose, sporting the captain's armband.

Quick to take charge, a set of banana-sized fingers wrapped around Chloe's waist and she was pulled into the captain's lap. "Shush, now there's a good girl."

"I think she's one of the teachers at this piss-hole school," another giant with a crew cut observed.

Suddenly it dawned on the fearful blonde that these weren't her pupils, her jurisdiction useless. Nonetheless she still enjoyed a position of power – didn't she? "Yes I am a teacher," Chloe confirmed. "Lay another finger on me and you boys are in so much trouble."

"Wooooooo-hooooooo," rang out the sarcastic response.

"And how exactly does a female teacher go about explaining how she came to be naked in a male changing room?"

"Naked...I'm not..."

A rip and her blouse came away all too easily like crepe paper, its flimsiness no match for a pair of strong, rough hands, buttons flying around like shrapnel. Her bra presented a tougher proposition, its tiny clasp too fiddly for those thick sausage fingers. In frustration, the captain bit his way through the lace as another pair of brutes wrestled down her cords and thong. Tossed to the ground, the hapless teacher squirmed naked in a film of liquefied mud, surrounded by a wall of muscle and sinew. Like a pack of lions closing in on its prey they moved in, shorts loosened around their waists to reveal cocks of varying degrees of size and readiness.

The captain stepped closest, lifting Chloe's chin and pressing his stubby cock to her lips. "Who's in charge here?"

A token defiance, clenching tight, was resolved with a carefully aimed slap on the cheek. "WHO'S IN CHARGE?"

"You are," she whined, miserably opening to receive the insistent organ.

It failed to tickle her throat but boy did stretch her lips wide.

The fourteen others looked on, clapping and chanting in unison, issuing the occasional slap to Chloe's bobbling bum as she sucked and licked and did all she could to make him cum as quick as possible. The captain groaned, telling her what a filthy little fucking cocksucker she was, taking a firm grip of her hair and starting to pound her face like it was a hot cunt.

Two other bulky forwards beside him, watching the scene unravel, were unable to contain their urges. Taking hold of their hard cocks, they wanked furiously. Chloe's eyes bulged like a goldfish. The outcome was a three-way tidal wave of cum, pumped into the pretty schoolteacher's face. She swallowed all she could so as not to choke, the remainder sliding down her cheeks and chin. Little time to catch a breath, quickly the warm accommodating mouth was filled once more.

Chloe moaned onto the rampant cock as a hand lifted her underbelly, elevating her buttocks. She glanced back momentarily, witnessing the prop that had instigated everything ready to make the first venture inside that hot shaven cunt. Amid a triumphant exhalation, his cock tip entered the pink moist slit with purpose. Adjusting position, he thrust deep into the tormented teacher's pussy and banged her cervix. A dozen raking strokes threatened to pierce her womb before the prop came with a mighty roar, his spunk flooding her box.

Soon he was replaced, another series of frenzied thrusts and another load despatched deep into her belly. And then that one was replaced. None lasted any particular length of time, such was the joy conferred by banging that tight wet pussy, yet each came with a grunt of sheer joy. The motion from behind of one particularly large boy forced Chloe forward so hard that she almost swallowed the cock she was sucking. The result of the deepthroating was another explosion and a stream of cum sprayed straight into her throat. Thrashing around in the muddy puddle, truly she became the dirty slut.

One after another they took turns, using her body until she was too exhausted to remain upright. Flipping the delicious blonde onto her back, the last few took her missionary style. Dwarfing the petite blonde, just her raised knees were visible as buttocks bounced. Her head was angled to take more cock, though her mouth was numb. Not until every player had been satisfied both vaginally and orally did the assault relent. Warning off those that harboured lingering urges, the captain lifted Chloe in his strong arms, conveying her to the showers. The water felt good as it washed away the dirt and cum.

Two hours of relentless fucking and Chloe had still to cum. Gathering up a ball of lather, she coated the captain's cock with foam and begged him to shove it inside her. Ever willing to oblige, he lifted her to the shower wall, stretching her pussy with that short fat cock whilst sucking on her neck. Despite cumming twice, he was as hard as ever for the sexy blonde, buttocks pumping back and forth. The orgasm when finally it arrived was earth shattering, Chloe's whole body tingling.

Each of the team took a turn towelling her dry, apologies whispered if they'd been a little rough. Chloe thanked each with a soft kiss.

Glancing around, she searched for her discarded clothes. In the battle to remove them, every item had been torn to shreds. As the boys went on their way, all that remained was a forgotten rugby top. Chloe put it on tentatively, smelling the aroma of sweat and toil. Sucking in air and sore as hell, the bottom of the shirt barely reached mid thigh. However, she couldn't really walk home looking like this. It was then that Kevin Manning appeared with a sneer. "Nice show, slut."

Chloe's eyes slanted. "Were you watching that, Sir?"

"Yes."

"Then why didn't you help me like a good master?"

Kevin grinned at the irony: his puny body against fifteen giants. "You looked like you were enjoying yourself too much."

Chloe said nothing.

"Come on you dirty whore, I'll give you a lift home."

Chloe's face brightened.

It clouded again when she saw Kevin's pushbike propped up outside. She tugged at the tail of the top and it stretched, but then it rode back up again, revealing a hint of shaven pussy. It was going to be a long ride home. Try as she might, flashing at passers-by was unavoidable, the day's humiliation complete. Kevin pulled up outside his house.

"Are you looking forward to the weekend, miss? I certainly am."

He winked and Chloe whimpered. It couldn't get any worse for her, could it?



Teacher Training Ch. 03



Chloe Hunt awoke on Saturday morning, her head swirling and body aching. Had she really been fucked by an entire rugby team or was it just another one of her dreams? No, it had been real enough, validated by the feelings in her body. In comparison, the dreams had now become pale imitations of that couple of hours in the changing room.

Limping across the landing, the pretty schoolteacher ran a long hot bath, generously doused with bubble bath, stepping in tentatively and standing for a minute whilst growing accustomed to the heat. Sucking in the steamy air she eased down onto her backside, submerging in the bubbles that puffed up like a giant meringue. Head only above water, the undercurrent stroked at her battered pussy like hot fingers. Oh that felt so good.

Reaching down Chloe spread the soft lips wide, submitting to the water's urgings, groaning in a mix of pain and pleasure as its warmth entered her inner sanctum. Gathering up a ball of foam in her fingers and arching her back upwards, she brought instant relief, literally cleansing away the soreness inside. No permanent damage, it seemed, she teased the clit until it throbbed. At the same time, Chloe cupped each pert breast, wincing at the pain from the bite marks that had been inflicted by Jack two nights earlier and which remained as a reminder. After the events of the previous night, it seemed an eternity. Oh how she wanted Jack back and for her life to return to normal. Taking the plunge she submerged fully, the blonde mane straggling like jellyfish tentacles at the surface.

It was then that something happened that took her breath away – quite literally. The bathroom door barged open and in crashed a shadowy figure. Chloe's head re-emerged through the surface, face masked in terror and about to scream when a large hand stretched to cover her face and push it back down again before water. The resultant cry was muffled, a line of staccato bubbles pumping upward from her lips.

Chloe thrashed from side to side, trying to break free of the strong grip, the water crashing in waves around her. She watched through the glazed surface as her assailant's free hand reached down to find its way between her legs. Three thick fingers parted the labia, making a bee-line for her swollen clit. Straining to see, she made out the face of Charlie, her milkman. A chirpy type of chap given to flirting on the doorstep, he'd asked her out hundreds of times to no avail. All that pent-up lust had now manifest itself in this violent liaison. "You've had your chances, Chloe dear," he averred, the words wavy.

The milkman's fingers bent to rub her clit purposefully, sending more air bubbles to the surface like machine-gun fire. As the air drained from her lungs, the heady feeling was like nothing Chloe had ever experienced before. She came hard as the last helpless trail of air bubbles burst on the surface...

* * *

Chloe awoke from the dream with a fearsome jerk, alone in the bathroom. Suddenly the water felt cold around her body and she shivered markedly. Outside in the street, the milk float rattled a lonely furrow sending an even bigger shiver down her spine. An intense dream, the squirt from the resultant orgasm had left a cloudy seam of pussy juice in one of the clumps of foam. Rising quickly, the pretty blonde groped for the towel, its warmth and downy feel bringing welcome relief.

As she dried, a knock on the front door startled her. Easing aside the curtains to peek out, Chloe saw the milk float parked obliquely outside and heard Charlie the milkman whistling on the porch. Damn, it was Saturday and he'd come to collect. She swallowed hard, a frightening thought. The knock came louder, more insistent, and Chloe was forced to wrap the towel around to go to answer, peering around the edge of the door. Charlie's eyebrows elevated as he spotted the matted clump of wet hair and a glimpse of bare damp shoulder. He tried to catch a look around the door, giving Chloe a big early morning smile and causing her heart to race. "Keep the change," she stated, thrusting the note into his hand to curtail the embarrassment.

As she did so, the door opened a few more inches, just as the towel slipped ever so slightly, revealing the briefest hint of nipple. Charlie issued a salacious parting glance, his features etched indelibly on her brain. Closing the door, she leaned back upon it, breathing like an asthmatic. It was then that she realised she'd wet herself, a warm stream trickling seductively down her inner thigh. She jumped as the door rattled once more, face a picture of fear. Oh God, was Charlie coming back to finish the job like in the dream?

Composing herself, despite standing in a warm puddle of pee, Chloe opened the door a crack. It was not Charlie but Kevin's father Frank Manning that stood on the step. An overbearing older man, Chloe seemed to be surrounded by them.

Then a thought struck her hard like a head on smash, stealing her breath. Frank had seen the CCTV tape, hadn't he? Oh God, he must have done. Why else would he be at her front door? Was this nightmare ever going to cease? Chloe quaked inwardly, waiting for the accusation to fall. Shuffling uncomfortably, her pee-hole quivered once more and a warm gush tickled her pubes, running down her thighs.

"The wife and I are going away for the weekend," began Mr Manning. "Could you keep an eye on Kevin, make sure he doesn't throw any wild parties?"

Ironic words, Kevin was the least likely person capable of throwing a wild party. Chloe nodded her head vigorously, unable to shut the door quickly enough. Again she leaned back against the door, fighting to control the tears. Even at the weekend her ordeal remained. Stepping over the warm puddle, she eased off the towel, naked in the hallway. On hands and knees she mopped up her mess, feeling worthless.

A precious half an hour snuggled into the sofa was interrupted by the bleep of the mobile phone, sending her heart racing. Kevin's message was simple: Next door, one hour.

* * *

An hour later the demure schoolteacher stood on the neighbour's step, shivering in spite of the clement weather. Kevin answered the door with a grin, ushering her through into a lounge that was not dissimilar to her own but in reverse. She was shocked to observe that her schoolboy tormentor was not alone. An equally, if not even more geeky kid was perched on the edge of the sofa, wearing spectacles and a goofy expression. "This is my cousin, Nigel," Kevin announced.

"You never said anything about..." Chloe began.

"Shut it," Kevin snapped.

Chloe lowered her head instinctively. "Sorry."

"SORRY? Sorry what?"

"Sorry SIR."

Kevin allowed himself a satisfied grin, taking a seat next to his cousin. Nigel looked young and under developed, surely no older than his mid teens, but Chloe was assured that he was eighteen. It occurred to her through the myriad of grotesque thoughts circulating her head that these two had probably reached adulthood without seeing a woman naked, other than on the Internet or in a porno mag. In many ways she could be seen to be providing a valuable service. At least that was what she tried to convince herself, to justify this madness to a rapidly eroding conscience. "So, what is it you want today, Sir?" she asked meekly.

Kevin looked on thoughtfully, like a kid in a sweetshop who'd found a banknote. He took a minute to consider the options. "Okay, do a striptease for us."

Chloe cringed, not so much at the request itself as the implication. She'd hoped they might take turns at screwing her, satisfying their urges and in the process losing their cherries and then let her be. It would be a quick release. Or that was what she'd hoped. As it was, this had all the hallmarks of a lingering torture. The pain showed on her pretty face. Kevin shook his head, sighing. "Miss Cunt, if you're not at least going to make it look like you're enjoying this, we're going to have to hurt you. Understand?"

The mere threat jolted the pretty teacher and she forced a smile that radiated over to Kevin. "That's better. You see, if you play ball and be a good girl, all this will be over – today.

Chloe regarded him quizzically. "Today?"

"I'll delete your picture and destroy the CCTV tape, and that'll be the end of it."

Chloe's lips curled upward in a genuine yet uneasy smile. Could she afford to believe him? Was this just another one of his games to give her false hope before snatching it away again and leave her broken? She had to believe for, right at that moment, it was all the hope she could cling to.

"Get on with it," Kevin commanded, growing ever impatient.

Chloe stole a huge breath. Must make this good, she told herself, turning away from the boys so her back was to them. I must make them cum quickly. I could be out of here a free woman by midday. The joy gave her a rosy glow.

Running her fingers through the tangle of hair, she bobbed her head from side-to-side and as if getting into a routine. Leaning forward, her peachy arse bobbled in the air, a hint of lace displayed as the short skirt rode up to the tops of each thigh, contented sighs audible from the appreciative audience on the sofa.

Against her better nature, this whole scenario was proving to be less detestable than she'd envisaged. Actually she was getting quite into it. "You like my bum?" she enquired seductively, lapsing into the character of a dirty stripper with relative ease.

Looking back through her legs, she licked her lips, before repeating the question. "I said do you like my bum?"

"Yesssssss," rang out the chorus of approval.

Chloe placed her palms flat on the carpet, giving her arse a good wiggle. The skirt fluttered, riding higher to expose more panty lace. Gripping her ankles she continued to writhe from side to side. Slowly the sexy blonde ran her hands up each calf, letting out a contrived gasp of lust.

"She IS one hot bitch, you were right," commented Nigel, speaking for the first time.

"Mmm, she's the hottest bitch in school," Kevin concurred.

Almost involuntarily Chloe's pussy twitched at the words. Hands caressing and moving upward over her calves, she continued to pant in mock desire. Finding her thighs, the gasp reached a crescendo. Through the gap in her legs she could see the bulges in their trousers quite clearly. "Don't mind me, boys," she mouthed hoarsely, licking her lips. "Feel free to get those lovely big cocks out."

Both grinned, glancing at each other for validation before wrestling zips down. As Chloe's fingers reached the apex of her thighs and disappeared inside her skirt, two rock hard pricks were unveiled. Tentatively their fists wrapped around each shaft in unison, stroking gently.

At the same time Chloe moaned with the first semblance of genuine arousal as her fingers made contact with the crotch of her moist panties. Gently she pushed against the cotton crotch, barely parting the lips, teasing and pleasing herself whilst purring seductively.

Pirouetting around, she faced them, their fists easing up and down their shafts to reveal a pair of glistening purple domes. "Mmm, you dirty little boys," she cooed, the scene undeniably arousing, even if they were two geeks.

Hands at her navel, slowly Chloe began to unbutton from the bottom up, taking supreme care not to rush things. The blouse parted to reveal a soft pale stomach. Both lads looked on in awe. The blouse was then despatched to unveil a lace clad bosom that heaved ever so slightly as she cupped at it. Eyes fixed upon Kevin's groin she couldn't fail to notice his fist speed up a notch, the foreskin blurring. Pushing out her elbows then pulling them back in against the sides of her pert breasts, the lovely teacher made a hot cleavage. She imagined the boys would love nothing better than to get their hard pricks lost in that soft ridge of taut flesh. Chloe blew hard, the whole scenario unreal yet so arousing.

Reaching back down, Chloe worked a pair of thumbs inside the waistband of the skirt, shuffling it at her hips whilst gyrating to some imaginary tune in her head. She had to keep reminding herself that she was some cheap stripper, a dirty slut. Oh God, yes, I'm a dirty fucking slut, she repeated over and over in her head until she believed it. Gradually the miniskirt eased free and down her shapely legs, pooling on the floor at her feet. Lifting one, she kicked it free.

Clad in just a bra, panties and heels, the gorgeous blonde was a rare sight to behold, a mix of coquettish schoolgirl innocence and a teacher's experience. Willing it to go on forever, Nigel's strokes began to slow noticeably, stemming the urge to cum too quickly. Kevin, on the other hand, masturbated with carefree abandon, precum leaking from the eye and down the greasy purple knob. Evidently Chloe was pleasing him.

Hands caressing her ribcage, Chloe continued to tease before reaching behind to unclasp the bra, letting it loosen around her breasts. Working down the spaghetti straps, they cascaded off her arms until the bra was held in place by gravity and a pair of nipples that had sprouted at least an inch. Chloe reached up to toss back her blonde mane, working through her fingers like sand.

As the bra shifted and threatened to fall at any moment, the tops of Chloe's areolae were exposed. Catching hold of each end, Chloe shifted the bra back and forth across her breasts like a born stripper, chafing the edge of each erect nipple. Panting, she let it slide away and down her torso, twisting around just in time to conceal the bounty from the eager teen eyes. Damn, they'd turned her into one hot tease.

Shaking her bum in the boys' faces, she shuffled closer until they could smell the scent of arousal emanating from between her legs. "Touch my arse, Nigel," she suggested.

Gingerly the geeky schoolboy extended a hand, palming the flesh and quickly pulling it away like he'd touched a hot radiator. Chloe smiled broadly. It was difficult to know who was forcing who.

Turning around once again, she stood statuesque, facing the boys with a hand touching each opposite shoulder, cross-like over her chest to keep her breasts covered. Both boys were puffing like steam engines by now, wanking furiously. Chloe smiled, flashing her pearly white teeth. "Mmmmmmmm, cum for me boys," she purred.

Both looked close to exploding yet were trying to hold on for dear life. "Here they are, boys, my gorgeous tits," she announced, lowering each arm to reveal a pair of breasts that stood proud and firm with cherry ripe nipples.

The exquisite sight proved all too much for one of the virgin schoolboys. Nigel came hard, the moment marked by a triumphant grunt, spunk arcing as he aimed for his belly. A second wave followed and he fell back exhausted, spectacles misted.

Kevin maintained eye contact with his teacher's breasts, mentally ravishing them until he too could contain himself no longer. An impassioned groan and another belly flooded with seed. And Chloe still had managed to keep on her heels and panties!

A few pulsing heartbeats elapsed before Kevin regained his composure and control, leering across at the onlooking Chloe. "Well, don't just stand there, slut, clean us up."

Chloe winced.

"DO IT! Every fucking drop."

"Yes Sir, sorry Sir."

Humbly she dropped to her knees, hesitating momentarily. Sensing her reticence, Kevin wrapped his fingers in her hair, pressing her face down to his gooey tummy. Chloe felt the stuff inhale up her nose and coat her lips as she fought to breathe. When Kevin's grip eased, her tongue lapped at the sticky pool like a thirsty kitty. She circled, vacuuming up the surplus, ensuring every stray splash was consumed and his stomach left spotless.

Without further prompting she took the softening cock in hand, feeding it into her waiting lips and sucking the head clean. Glancing up, she looked for approval. Kevin issued a silent nod.

Shuffling across on her knees, Chloe did likewise to Nigel, suctioning up the creamy deposit and giving the head a good suck to ensure it was as clean as his cousin's.

It was only then that Chloe realised that SHE craved relief like never before. They couldn't leave her like this. It wasn't fair. Her heart was pounding against her exposed breast, her cunt was throbbing and her pussy was stuck to the crotch of the panties like glue. Fuck me Kevin, give me what I need, her brain was crying out. Please, please, please put out this fire in my aching loins. Chloe crashed down into the space between each boy.

Kevin seemed to read her mind, indicating to the flaccid cock on his belly. Reaching over, Chloe palmed it, stroking and trying to nurse it back to life. Yet even for a young man with boundless energy it was too much to ask. "Oh God I need to cum so bad," she whined.

Reaching aside she took each boy's left hand, placing them on her crotch and groaning at the mere touch. It was like an electric shock to the groin. Never before had she felt so wanton. "Please," she begged, before the tone became more insistent.

Forcefully she pushed each set of fingers inside the crotch of her sopping panties, using her own hand to guide Nigel's fingers to her button while Kevin's slid in and out of the oily groove. Her juices greased their slender fingers and she mewed like a cat on heat. Gradually each boy got the idea and Chloe was able to take away her guiding hands to concentrate on twisting and pinching her pulsating nipples. "Oooooooh," she moaned, consumed with lust. "Deeper. Finger my hot cunt."

She grinned as the sensations found their way to each cock, slowly inflating like limp party balloons being filled with air. Soon each cock was hard once more and Chloe took them in hand, stroking and squeezing, eliciting a volley of moans and a heightened bout of attention to her cunt. Up and down pummelled her fists, in and out plunged their fingers, all working in unison. "Now fuck me," she pleaded.

"After you've had fifteen cocks up there," replied Kevin dismissively.

Chloe blushed.

"Dirty sluts like you don't deserve our nice clean cocks."

"Oh God, make me cum with your fingers then," she ordered, pumping their cocks like crazy.

Suddenly her body jerked and the orgasm struck like a bolt of lightning to the pussy. "Ooooooooh," she growled, before screaming, her body jerking crazily. "Oooooooh."

Almost immediately her attention to those hard cocks had the desired effect on each boy. She lowered to receive Nigel's load in her mouth, swallowing the swollen cock, feeling the eruption at the back of her mouth and the trickle of cum down her throat. Kevin stood up to milk his wad in her face, fist blurring at his midriff. Chloe was drenched in cum, swallowing eagerly before pulling each lad to her, their cheeks on her heaving breasts. Sleep came easily.

* * *

When Chloe awoke, the sky outside was fading to grey and Nigel was gone. Kevin had showered and applied perhaps a little too much aftershave for Chloe's tastes, its scent oppressive. She kept a tight lip however. "The last part of the deal," he confirmed. "Then you're a free woman."

Chloe looked over, enquiring with her eyes. "We're going out on a date," the schoolboy confirmed.

A date? Chloe suppressed the urge to show any hint of emotion though the very thought made her skin crawl. What if she was seen out with Kevin by other pupils? Or worse, by other teachers?

"You've an hour to get ready for me. Go get yourself cleaned up and wear the sluttiest outfit you can find."

"And then after tonight you'll let me go?"

Kevin issued a little nod of confirmation.

* * *

"No, no, no, no, no," sighed Kevin in exasperation as he opened the door. "Not nearly slutty enough."

And Chloe thought she'd chosen well in the tight yellow halter, grey pencil skirt and calf length black leather boots.

"Now lift your halter."

Still on the doorstep, Chloe did as ordered, allowing Kevin to unclasp the bra. He smoothed the halter back down, brushing the schoolteacher's attentive nipples. "That's better," he confirmed. "Now, your panties too."




Teacher Training Ch. 03



Chloe grimaced but obeyed, letting him hook them over her boots. "Perfect," Kevin drooled. "We'll catch the bus into town."

Chloe followed subserviently to the bus stop where a grubby looking chap in his late fifties or early sixties leered as she leaned on the shelter. She resembled a hooker touting for business. Instead of shame, however, all Chloe felt was a warm, wet feeling between her legs.

The bus pulled over and Kevin targeted one of the long seats near the back that faced another. It meant Chloe had to face whoever sat opposite, in this case the unkempt pensioner from the bus stop whose eyes now seared into her like a branding iron. As she shifted uncomfortably in the seat, the pencil skirt rode up her thighs, giving the old guy a spectacular view of the teacher's gazelle like legs. The mere thought made her nipples tingle and inflate inside the yellow halter, whilst her pussy continued to throb.

When Kevin's hand reached over to her bare thigh, she very nearly came. His fingers extended to ease them apart. Stealing a glance over, Chloe saw the senior citizen opposite leering back, a bulge noticeable at the front of his trousers. Accidentally-on-purpose he dropped his bus pass. With a heave, he levered himself out of the seat, joints creaking. On his knees on the floor, he could see right up Chloe's little skirt and into her juicy cunt, its lips quivering. Fumbling for the pass, he salivated, before climbing back into the seat, nursing a painful erection. A stain on the front of his trousers demonstrated where the blunt cock head had made contact with the cloth.

Furtively he reached inside his pocket, playing pocket billiards, feeling the unaccustomed stiffness and stroking himself through the layer of material. Though she tried hard not to, Chloe couldn't help but gaze. Her pussy was aching for relief and she was fast becoming an insatiable sextoy.

By the time the station came into sight, the wet patch in the old man's trousers was two inches wide and growing. He may even have cum. Chloe herself having become somewhat aroused found that her pussy lips were soaking, and she was glad to stand and let the skirt ease back down her thighs. In a gentlemanly manner, the old man indicated to let her go first, his politeness met with a smile from the cute young schoolteacher. However, his motives were quickly revealed to be less than gracious as the exodus from the deck of the bus caused a sudden bottleneck. Chloe groaned as the old man pressed into her bum. She could feel his warm fetid breath on her neck and his excited cock rub against the crack in her arse cheeks. As the queue shuffled forward, the filthy old timer gave Chloe's arse a good prod.

Outside in the warm air, Kevin grinned evilly. "Excuse me, sir," he said, voice raised slightly.

The pensioner turned, fear in his eyes and a look as if to say – who me?

"You were looking up my girlfriend's skirt on the bus, weren't you?"

"N-n-n-o," the pensioner stammered, taking off as fast as his old legs would carry him.

In turn, Kevin bowled after him, tugging Chloe by the wrist. Soon they were alongside. "Oh yes you were," said Kevin accusingly. "You're a dirty fucking pervert."

The pensioner shuffled on, continuing to protest his innocence. Fearful he was going to be assaulted, he tried his best to shake them off. The bizarre pursuit took the trio down an alley and to a dead end. Old hands with dirt encrusted fingernails were raised in defence, though Kevin's intentions were less than malevolent. "Get your dirty old cock out," the schoolboy commanded. "And as for you bitch, teasing this poor old guy on the bus like some cheap slut..."

Chloe blushed as the schoolboy pushed her down on her knees. "Now suck the dirty old fucker's cock."

Frightened the younger man might turn violent the pensioner unleashed the shrimp-like organ, wrinkled and shrunken by fear. Kevin repeated the order and grudgingly Chloe took hold of the soft shaft, rubbing it between thumb and forefinger. A couple of strokes and it began to expand, restored to the former glory of the bus. Chloe drew back the polo neck foreskin to reveal a shiny bloodshot head, glazed with sweat. And oh did it whiff. The pretty schoolteacher gagged before it had even touched her lips. Squeezing her eyes tight she took the tip onto her velveteen tongue, closing her mouth and sucking. The initial taste threatened to cause a wave of sickness to rise but she overcame the urge, letting her tongue tip tease the eye.

Chloe allowed the shaft to enter the warm recess, working the uncut foreskin up and down with her lips. A hand rose to gently jerk the shaft, causing the old man to growl with pleasure, perhaps the first time that ancient dick had felt a feminine touch in decades. Kevin grinned, offering compliments and goading her on. In the space of two days, Chloe had become one hell of an accomplished cocksucker. "Now fuck the filthy slut's face," he commanded.

The old man didn't need telling twice. Chloe gasped as the cock head was thrust deep into her tonsils, her nose buried in a mesh of wiry, malodorous pubes. Grunting, the pensioner banged his cock in and out like he was pumping up a bike tyre. A dozen strokes later, he pulled out sharply, face contorted, fingers pinching at the base of the knob in a vain attempt to delay the inevitable. To no avail, the pressure merely served to intensify the resultant spurt, like a knot of trapped water trapped water breaking free from a hose. For an old guy he certainly had plenty to give, unloading years of neglect into Chloe's waiting mouth. There was so much spunk it spilled from the sides of her mouth and dribbled down her chin.

Milking the last drops from the eye with his fingers, the pensioner smiled, pulled up his drawers and was gone, scuttling back off down the alley like a scolded cat.

When Chloe had caught her breath, Kevin helped her up. "You know what I'd like to happen tonight?"

He leant over to whisper in her ear, leaving Chloe shocked. "You mean you've never...? Never even thought about it?"

"Never Kevin, no. Oh God, the thought makes me..."

Though now he came to mention it... Chloe felt a little tingle in her loins.

* * *

The bar in town was just starting to get busy when they arrived, Chloe's scanty apparel drawing lecherous looks. The pretty blonde blushed and wasted no time heading to the toilet to freshen up. Quickly she washed off the remnants of the old man's cum from her cheeks and chin. During the blowjob her eyeliner had bled and she resembled a dirty little whore. Oh my, had she really walked across town and through the bar looking like that? There was little she could do about the streaks of cum on the halter, the lesson of school the previous day well remembered. Though deep down she had to confess it would look good wet and clinging to her heaving breasts... No, Chloe no, she told herself, no you must keep such thoughts to yourself. Likewise, the stain on the front of the skirt from the overflow of juices from her own aroused cunt was pretty much ingrained. Why oh why had she chosen to wear revealing grey?

Back in the bar, Kevin was waiting with a bottle of Becks. Chloe necked it swiftly, cleansing the fetid taste from her tongue and trying to get drunk enough as quickly as possible so as not to care. "I hope you're enjoying our date," mused Kevin.

Chloe forced a smile.

"Let's play pool," he suggested, handing her a cue. "You can break."

As Chloe bent down to address the table, the skirt rode up over the tops of her thighs, some lower arse exposed. It was only then that it dawned upon her that she was wearing no panties. Tugging awkwardly at the hem, she tried to right the situation but to no avail. Behind she could hear onlookers whispering about her and could feel their eyes on her. As she broke purposefully, the balls scattered around the baize and the skirt flew up to expose her most of her butt. Reaching quickly, she wrestled it back down again.

"Mmmmmmmm nice," rang out the call from the bar, and she wasn't sure whether they were admiring the break or her arse.

Having potted another ball, she missed an easy shot, issuing an annoyed pout as Kevin took over at the table. The schoolboy potted a brace before missing a long shot, the white coming to rest right on the top cushion. That meant Chloe had to back into the guys at the bar in order to play the shot. Wincing as she bent, her butt bobbled, mere touching distance away.

Early evening still, the men somehow managed to resist the temptation to reach out, nonetheless enjoying the view as the skirt rose upward. Chloe played the shot without thought, simply to get away as quickly as possible from the leering eyes. The balls ricocheted around the table and the white went down.

Kevin shook his head solemnly. "You should take more care. Lose this game and as a forfeit you're going to get fucked by every guy in the bar on the pool table."

Chloe whimpered. Yet the threat had the desired effect and, with Kevin fluffing his two shots, in a show of steely determination she potted her way to the black. Steadying as her arse wiggled seductively at those that were now three-deep at this end of the bar, the pretty blonde despatched the eight ball in the bottom left pocket. A cheer rang out and guys clambered over each other to get their money down.

"Winner stays on," confirmed Kevin, heading off to the bar to get more drinks in.

A slicked-back hair guy won the battle to be next on, pushing in the coin, balls rattling in the chute. Chloe used the time to compose herself, embarking upon a brief tour around this end of the bar. Attracting ever less subtle stares from those congregated at tables around a small empty dancefloor, she smiled back demurely. God, it seemed every man in here wanted to fuck her brains out. She kind of regretted not losing the game of pool. Spotting her wandering aimlessly around the circumference of the dancefloor, the DJ issued a welcome: "Hello, pretty lady."

Chloe blushed before ambling back to the pool table, cue in hand.

This guy was a good player yet clearly of limited intellect. In an eagerness to win, he denied those at the bar an opportunity to feast upon Chloe's exposed nether region. Moreover, he didn't even claim a peck on the cheek for the victory, let alone the good grope to which the victor should be entitled. Must be gay, thought Chloe, the beer going to her head surprisingly quickly, testament perhaps to the fact she'd eaten little other than cum all day.

She startled as Kevin crept up behind, his warm breath on her neck, a hand smoothing the curve of her rump. "It's time you entertained us. Get that sweet arse on the dancefloor."

Chloe looked around open mouthed. "You want me to dance in front of all these people?"

"Yes."

It was almost like an out-of-body experience as the delicious blonde glided to the centre of the small dancefloor, twisting and twirling, sheer adrenaline making her sway in time to the upbeat lilting music. Those watching from the sidelines soon became unfocussed blurs. Gyrating sexily, she pouted as the neck of the beer bottle pierced her lips.

It wasn't long before she was joined by another girl who'd somehow been cajoled into action. A brunette of similar age with a tight bob haircut, she resembled Catherine Zeta Jones in Chicago, dancing at a safe distance whilst making occasional eye contact. Naturally the glances turned to little smiles and Chloe found herself responding. Before she knew it, they were brushing one another, giggling like little girls. All too soon that turned into dirty dancing for the benefit of the predominantly male audience. "Hi I'm Leah," said the other girl.

Chloe introduced herself, glancing over to Kevin for approval. Watching intently he nodded silent permission for her to continue. Indeed, the bulge in his trousers suggested he was enjoying the show as much as any of the other onlookers and Chloe recalled the request from earlier in the alleyway: "I want to see you with another woman tonight."

The thought both frightened and frilled Chloe in equal measure. She'd never really given it much thought but would be the first to admit that the term 'bicurious' she'd seen in magazine articles intrigued her. After all, that meant 100% exposure and Chloe was all for maximising potential.

The DJ provided the catalyst to get the evening moving, ironically by slowing things down. The new girl Leah took up a position behind Chloe, her chin resting on the blonde's shoulder, hands at her hips, grinding seductively. From his vantage point, Kevin had the perfect view as the brunette's hands caressed Chloe's ribcage and elevated to cup her breasts. Lost in the moment, Chloe moaned, arching her back. Elsewhere among the onlookers, cocks were starting to twitch uncontrollably inside briefs and boxers. "You want to get out of here, honey?" whispered Leah.

"Yesssssss," Chloe enthused.

Leah led her from the dancefloor, past Kevin who nodded sagely. The guys grinned but made no attempt to follow, locked up by their manly inhibitions. It was only Kevin that went after the pair, leaving those in the bar in a state of shock. A cab was waiting close by and the girls piled in as Kevin took the front seat. "Who's the dork?" enquired Leah with a giggle.

Kevin sneered as he issued directions to the bemused looking cabbie.

"Huh, he's your what?" Leah spluttered from behind, taking a second look to re-appraise the schoolboy, but reaching the same conclusion.

By way of explanation, Chloe held her hands above her knees, a twelve-inch gap between.

"Oh really?" enthused Leah. "Mmmmmmm."

Kevin allowed himself a smug smile.

They were barely a hundred yards into the journey when Leah surprised Chloe by sliding a hand up her inner thigh. Initially the pretty schoolteacher froze, particularly when she glanced up to see both Kevin's and the taxi driver's eyes staring intently in the rearview mirror. The cabbie only broke his concentration to look across at Kevin in disbelief, an expression that translated as: how the fuck did a snotty little kid like you meet these two?

They were treated to an exhibition of intense girl-on-girl tonguing, Leah seizing control as both girls could barely keep their hands off each other. Soon Leah's fingers were plunged deep into Chloe's wet and welcoming pussy, eliciting a joyous gasp. The cabbie was I a state of shock.

Arriving at Kevin's parents' house, he was reluctant to let them go. He begged and even offered Kevin £100 just to be allowed to watch. But Kevin refused. He wanted this show all to himself.

It was only as they stood on the front step of Kevin's house that Chloe's head started to clear and commonsense prevail. And oh was it a moment of clarity for Chloe. What on earth was she doing? "Kevin...Leah...no, I can't do this..."

Kevin and Leah exchanged incredulous looks. "Get inside," commanded Kevin, physically manhandling her.

"Get off me," Chloe crowed. "I want to go home."

"You're not going anywhere," stated Leah purposefully, joining forces with Kevin to haul the unwilling blonde inside.

Chloe fought back but weight of numbers conspired against her. As Kevin held her from behind, his raging breath on her neck, Leah wrestled with the halter, hauling it up to expose the beautifully pert breasts. "Oh God baby, I want you so much," breathed Leah.

"Nooooooo," Chloe protested, lashing out.

Leah seemed to enjoy the defiance, responding with a sharp crack around Chloe's cheek. Chloe whimpered and ran her tongue over her lip. Caught off guard momentarily, she was frogmarched to the sofa where Kevin pulled her down onto his lap. "Nooooooo," she squealed. "Oh God, no, don't do this."

Kevin kept her arms pinned as Leah went to work on her nipples, sucking longingly as if she wanted to swallow them. "Fuck, you're beautiful," leered Leah.

Leah worked her way down, kissing and nuzzling at the pale flesh. Soon her head was in the teacher's lap. Chloe clamped her legs tight together as Leah went for the skirt. But with Kevin sucking at her neck and fondling her breasts, slowly Chloe felt her resistance drain. She was unable to stop her thighs parting as Leah's head darted in between. As Kevin held her tight to his lap and chest, an excited cock nudged her coccyx. "Oh God, baby, what a juicy looking cunt," Leah enthused.

Chloe melted as Kevin rolled each nipple between thumb and forefinger, pinching and twisting, squeezing and pulling whilst Leah's tongue extended ever so slightly. Gathering up Chloe's juices on the tip, she smacked her lips with a murmur of appreciation. Gliding back up Chloe's body like a lapdancer, their nipples brushed. Leah smiled and mouthed: "Oh baby, you just taste as good as you look. Don't fight me, baby."

Moving higher Leah fused her lips to the other girl's, letting her taste her own pussy as their tongues lashed. Consumed by disgust, Chloe shook her head purposefully. "No, Leah, please..."

The words hung in the air as Chloe felt Leah's tongue once more in her mouth and a finger in her pussy. As Leah pulled away, she smeared the sticky digit across Chloe's pursed lips.

Leah grinned and slid back between the teacher's legs. This time she licked the puckered arse knot, sending an electric shiver up through every nerve end. "Oh God, she's licking my arsehole," Chloe groaned as the other girl alternated between holes.

"Chloe, tell Leah what you are," Kevin commanded.

Her silence prompted the schoolboy to give her nipples a good firm tug. "TELL HER."

"Oh I'm a filthy little slut. I'm your filthy little slut, Sir."

"And what do you want?"

"I want your cock inside me. Please give it to me Sir."

With that Leah lifted the other girl until Kevin's cock head nestled at the entrance. A quick directional thrust and his shaft was buried inside her tight pussy. "Oh fuccccccckkkkkkk," Chloe screamed, but before she could say anything more, Kevin had slid onto his back, pumping from beneath whilst Leah had climbed onto her face.

As Kevin rammed in hard and forcefully, Chloe instinctively licked at the pussy over her. "Oh yeah, that's it you filthy slut, lick my cunt good," Leah groaned, grinding down on the teacher's face and nearly suffocating her.

The three went at it hammer and tongs foe ten minutes, taking Kevin's virginity and Chloe's bi-virginity in a manner they would remember for the rest of their days. Just as both thought they might faint, the forceful pumping from beneath resulted in a powerful explosion deep inside Chloe. The seed filled her cunt and felt warm inside her womb.

Within seconds, Kevin had slid clear, breathing in starts and watching from the floor as Leah leaned forward to mimic Chloe's actions. Only the cunt she was about to lick had an added bonus: Kevin's fresh cream. Leah licked longingly, lapping like a cat at a bowl and the sensation became all too much for Chloe. As Leah eased back, the blonde spurted, the gush arcing six inches and peppering Leah's face with juice like a peach being squeezed. "Ohhhhhhh baby, I wish I could do that," Leah mused, content for now to let Chloe's chameleon-like tongue bring her to a ballistic orgasm.

Her deposit soaked Chloe's lips and chin.

* * *

"Just once more Kevin, please," Chloe pleaded, as the light of morning filtered the teenager's bedroom.

Leah was gone and the remaining pair had, not more than an hour ago, enjoyed perhaps the best fifteen-minute fuck of Chloe's life. That was on top of the fuck they enjoyed in the early hours as Leah looked on and masturbated before taking off. Yet as Kevin became adept in the skills of lovemaking so Chloe's needs intensified. It was like a drug. She wanted it every which way and then some.

Resisting her impatient urges, Kevin rose to turn on the laptop. It displayed the treacherous picture that had begun this bizarre chain of events, the one of Chloe caught by surprise on the step in just her red bra and panties. And to think it was only a couple of days ago. It seemed a lifetime away for Chloe. Kevin clicked on 'delete', confirming his intention with a further click. "There you are, Miss Hunt, gone forever."




Teacher Training Ch. 03



He'd called her Miss hunt. Not cunt or bitch or whore or slut.

Next the schoolboy took a video from the rack. It was marked 'CCTV home footage'. Tearing the band of black plastic out of the middle, it stretched then snapped. "That's all the incriminating evidence destroyed. You're free to go now Chloe," he said simply. "The game's over."

"You don't...you don't want to...to fuck me once more?" she said, almost disappointedly.

"No, I don't."

"But Kevin..."

"You really should go, miss."

Chloe pouted and turned over, going back to sleep. She'd get him later. He was a horny teenager after all. Kevin's words were fuzzy as sleep encapsulated the tired schoolteacher. "Miss, you really should go...miss..."

* * *

"What the hell is going on here?"

Chloe awoke startled, confronted by Kevin's father, Frank Manning. Kevin looked up too. Immediately Chloe realised she should have gone home when Kevin told her. "Mr Manning I can explain..."

The angry father shook his head. "No missy, don't waste your breath. You are in SO much trouble when the school hears about this. I leave you in charge of my boy and you seduce him like some cheap whore."

As Kevin sloped away like a polecat, his face betraying the merest hint of smug self-satisfaction, Chloe was left alone with the raging Frank Manning. "Mr Manning, please..."

The enraged man held aloft a huge palm, informing her to shut it. Already it had dawned upon Chloe just how much trouble she was in, cowering and covering her breasts from his stare. A teacher-pupil relationship didn't mean just getting fired, but jail. She'd read about similar things in the papers. Frank Manning knew it too. And there wasn't even the evidence on the laptop or the CCTV reel to implicate Kevin and at least spread the blame. To the whole world it would appear as if Chloe had instigated the sordid affair. "Mr Manning please, can we work something out?" she pleaded.

She should have gone when Kevin said. She should have gone. Why oh why had she been so stupid?

"Work something out?" he thundered.

"Please," she said, fluttering her eyelashes and using her femininity to try to get out of this hole.

Frank Manning surely wasn't immune to her girlish charms, confirmed when he said more softly: "Work something out, huh."

"I'll do anything."

Manning suppressed a grin. "Well I've a few pals coming round to play poker tonight..."

Chloe gulped and choked back the tears.

"We could always use a pretty little hostess."

Chloe knew she was in deeper than ever. For this was no longer a boy she was playing with. Just what did he have in store?

* * *

An anxious Sunday elapsed before Chloe discovered just how truly bad it was. Glancing from the Manning's top window in the French Maid's outfit that had been provided, the teacher watched each guest arrive, becoming ever more agitated. Only now was it apparent why the outfit came with a little black eye mask.

First to arrive was milkman Charlie, swaggering in beneath her gaze. Chloe recalled the brutal dream in which he'd tried to drown her. Then to Chloe's horror came Jack Willis, her recently departed boyfriend. His forcefulness on their final night together had left her shattered. The next to grace the poker evening with his presence was a huge and powerful-looking black guy Chloe didn't recognise but who scared the living daylights out of her. The final indignity arrived in the shape of Mr Mason and Mr Andrews, the headmaster and games teacher at her school. They too had unfinished business with the pretty teacher.

The line-up made Chloe quake and she buried her head woefully in her hands. The mask was a godsend but surely they'd know it was her. Oh God, what had she gotten herself into?



Teacher Training Ch. 04



Chloe Hunt sat in the bedroom, awaiting the next episode in the chain of indignity and humiliation that had befallen her. Quite how she'd gone from a naïve schoolteacher to a sextoy for all to enjoy in the space of four days she didn't rightly know. It had all been such a blur.

Manly baritone voices from downstairs wafted up the stairs as they took seats in readiness for the game of poker.

Stealing a lungful of air and a glance in the mirror, the petite blonde was far from sure that the little black mask around the eyes would conceal her identity, especially from those that knew her intimately, like Jack Willis, the former lover with whom she'd shared six blissful months. And if not Jack, Bill Mason and Jeff Andrews, the headmaster and games teacher at Chloe's school surely would.

Joining them was Charlie, her milkman, a man who'd hounded her for a date over several months. It had reached the stage where, quite frankly, he made her skin crawl. Only one face was totally unfamiliar: a huge black man whose mere physical presence frightened the demure schoolteacher half to death. The sextet was completed by Frank Manning, Chloe's neighbour and the only one that knew her identity – so far. As an added precaution, Chloe had bunched her hair up into a blonde bun to make her less conspicuous.

The black and white off-the-shoulder French Maid's outfit clung to her braless bosom, chafing the attentive teats beneath, a ridge of material running from nipple to nipple as the material stretched tautly. A length of frilly white lace trim ran around the top edge of the outfit leaving her shoulders exposed. A white lace collar hugged her neck whilst a little two-tone hat perched on her head. At the front, a spotless apron hung from her hips, the one-piece outfit ending somewhat abruptly thigh-high. Inevitably no panties had been provided.

Undoubtedly sexy on a figure like Chloe's, she couldn't help but admire her reflection, clocking a crooked smile borne of uncertainty and an ever-present fear. She wasn't at all sure what her role as hostess for the evening involved – serving drinks and food and attending to the men's needs had been Frank Manning's brief – all their needs?

Slowly and with the uncertainty of Bambi on ice, the sexy blonde took to the stairs, the front room coming into view to the left over the banister. The men had assembled at a round table and poker chips were being counted out into piles amid a volley of good-hearted banter as Chloe arrived at the door to present herself.

"Mmmmmmm, you really have excelled yourself this time, Frank," enthused Charlie the milkman who was facing her way.

Not aware she was Chloe, his fantasy girl from next door, Charlie introduced himself, inducing in Chloe a nervous smile. Not expected to speak, that suited her fine. It would merely help give the game away if they heard her voice. Discovery tonight would almost certainly mean being fired from the job she'd strived so hard to succeed at and the real probability of police intervention. Abusing a position of authority with a pupil was frowned upon as many teachers before her had found out. If only she'd gone when the chance arose she wouldn't be in this mess now.

As she stood in the doorway, Chloe fiddled nervously with the mask, praying it would conceal her identity. A glance over at Jack elicited a lustful grin and a whistle of appreciation from her former lover. "Indeed he has excelled himself," he concurred with seemingly no hint of recognition in his eyes. "Hi, I'm Jack."

Chloe issued a thin smile. She was struggling go through with this. She just wanted to turn and run.

The two teachers with whom she worked, and to whom it was the most essential she remained anonymous, had their backs to the door as she entered. However, their eyes bulged immediately as they craned around to see. "Oh my," they gasped in unison before introducing themselves, eyes lingering and mentally undressing her.

Chloe nodded back, forcing a smile, before her attention passed to the only complete stranger in the group. "Hi, I'm Big Col," confirmed the larger-than-life Afro-Caribbean who, complete with a wiry goatee, resembled the 70's detective Shaft.

Again Chloe pursed her lips in greeting.

"And you are?" enquired Big Col, causing Chloe's heart to flutter.

"Sarah," confirmed Frank Manning on his hostess' behalf.

Tonight she was Sarah, Sarah the sexy French Maid.

"Well don't just stand around there like a spare part, get us beers, chop, chop," Manning commanded. "In the fridge in the garage, and bring something to eat."

"I know what I'd like to eat right now," mused Charlie, causing Chloe's cheeks to redden.

The other men grinned, a similar thought evidently in their minds too.

Chloe issued a polite little curtsey before engineering a hasty exit. It was not hasty enough, however, to prevent Bill Mason from goosing her arse. Chloe squeaked and the other men shook their heads in mock dismay, berating the leering headmaster.

Glad to be free of the claustrophobic living room, Chloe located the beer fridge and took a moment to compose. Removing a handful of cans, she filled six pint glasses and placed them on a tray with six bowls of Doritos and an assortment of dips from a nearby cupboard. "Come on Chloe, you can get through this," she told herself.

Bill Mason wasted no time in picking up where he left off. As Chloe leaned to place the glass on the coaster, he gathered a bunch of arse cheek in hand. On the other side, Jeff Andrews did likewise, the two lecherous lecturers getting a good feel of the goods. Unashamedly the headmaster uttered: "Mmmmmmmm, what a peachy little bum you have my dear."

As if to emphasise the point he gave it a little slap. "Ouch," Chloe complained, in the process causing the tray in her hands to rock.

The well-brimmed glasses shook and some beer splashed on the table cloth. Immediately Frank Manning banged his fist. "You clumsy little girl."

Chloe whimpered as the games master reached up to grip the nape of her neck, forcing her face down on to the table cloth. "Now lick up your mess," he ordered.

Chloe did as she was told, extending her tongue to soak up the liquid deposit, tasting the beer on the tip. As she did so, the headmaster lifted her skirt and, after allowing a moment to admire its aesthetic curvature, he issued three slaps, harder this time than the playful one of earlier. Chloe sucked in air as tears welled up in her eyes. Struggling to compose herself, she breathed as deep and evenly as possible before rising with all the dignity she could muster. "That's what happens to naughty little girls who spill drink," chided Mason, a glint in his eye.

Chloe offered a pouted look of contrition before moving on around the table.

Big Col thanked her as she leaned across him, a nipple brushing his cheek, yet he managed to keep his hands to himself. Shifting in his seat, Chloe couldn't fail to notice the mammoth bulge in his trousers than rested upon his thigh. It had to be as thick as her wrist. The big man noticed the pensive glance, a look of smug self-satisfaction filling his face. Chloe swallowed hard before dispensing Jack and Charlie's drinks without further mishap. Charlie ensured to stroke her inner thigh furtively before she completed the circle by putting down Frank Manning's pint.

All six men supped gratefully, wiping backhands across frothed lips before checking their pocket cards as Chloe placed a bowl at each man's side, dodging rogue hands that wanted to feel her, and touch her, and grope her. Thankfully the ensuing game helped to take their minds off carnal thoughts, though surely it was nothing more than a temporary reprieve. The dips were placed carefully in the centre and Chloe moved away from the table, hands crossed at her apron awaiting further instruction.

Half an hour passed as the men huffed and bluffed and chomped and slurped, refills called for. When Chloe returned with the tray she discovered that Jack had won the first game and was collecting tenners off the other five.

"How about we make this next game more interesting," suggested Frank.

Glances her way caused Chloe to blush.

"Winner of the next game gets the lovely Sarah to sit on his lap for the duration of the game after that."

"I'd rather she sat on my face," chortled Charlie.

"All in good time," replied the host somewhat ominously.

The play was loose, the men clearly anxious to 'get on'.

Ironically Charlie took the game and, after a stern look of warning from Frank, grudgingly Chloe made her way around the table. Charlie's arms opened to receive as Chloe plumped herself in his lap. She could feel his warm, excited breath on her neck, making the downy hairs stand to attention. She could also feel the beginning of an erection press into her bum from underneath. Charlie, it seemed, was quite excited by this turn of events.

His hands either side of her body reached for his cards. "Bring me some luck, darling," he whispered in her ear, shifting so that the crack of her arse rubbed his cock tip. "Mmm, that's it baby," he slavered.

Chloe shifted uncomfortably, particularly knowing the game could last an hour or more. Charlie ran his lips over her neck and did his best to unease the miserable girl. She was glad when more beers were called for, careful to take her time.

Returning, she was cheered to learn that Charlie's possession was soon to be over. The winner of this game, it was announced, could claim kisses off the hostess for the duration of the next. From Charlie's lap she noted Jack and Jeff go head to head for her favours. Mmm, the thought of kissing Jack again gave her heart. She wriggled impatiently, merely exacerbating the friction on Charlie's cock. "Oh God, I think I'm gonna cum," he mouthed, slobbering close to her neck.

To Chloe's disappointment Jeff Andrews won the hand, Charlie letting go grudgingly. Chloe trotted around and stood by the games master's side. He stood, head and shoulders above the colleague he'd fantasised about over the months they'd worked together, but who tonight was disguised by the eye mask. Could he tell? Chloe agonised as she pushed up on tiptoes, melting into the chest of the rugged athlete. His hands came to meet her arse, providing the added elevation enabling their lips to meet.

He was a better kisser than Chloe ever imagined, gentle yet firm, with a long roving tongue that worked its way past her lips and found the depths of her mouth. Oh God, though she hated to admit it, this was making her so damned wet. And they were all being so nice to her in the main. "Okay then Jeff, let the poor girl go," called over Jack. "Look at your cards."

As Jeff pulled away he gave her a smouldering smile. Jack, on the other hand, merely sneered like a kid denied a sweetie. Could it be that he realised? Or was it perhaps that Chloe was succeeding in driving a wedge through this close-knit group of buddies? Jack especially seemed frustrated and the tension in the room was discernible. When time allowed, Jeff would push his tongue in her mouth and Chloe found herself responding.

She looked across at Frank for further direction. "More beer," the order rang out and Chloe headed off to the garage, this time hurrying back as quickly as her little legs would allow.

The fellas were deep in hushed conversation and Chloe couldn't help thinking she was the subject.

"Oh damn," complained Frank Manning, dropping a chip on the floor. "Sarah, pick that up for me."

Chloe shot back a confused look.

"Damn you, girl, when I tell you to do something..."

Taking a firm grip of her arm he pushed the frightened girl to her knees. Suddenly the mood in the room had changed, buoyed by sexual frustration and a testosterone overload. Chloe scrambled beneath the table on hands and knees, searching for the errant chip. As she did so, a foot wriggled free of a shoe behind her and she jumped as Frank Manning extended his leg to place a foot between her legs, kicking up the skirt. In the confusion her crown hit the underside of the table with a crash, dislodging the little hat. Half-concussed she crawled around disorientated, not sure where she was.

The big toe snaked its way through a hole in Frank's sock and nestled at the entrance of her pussy before wiggling its way inside. Surrounded by a wall of legs, there was no escape. She glanced ahead and into the lap of Big Col who was wrestling with his zip. Her head fuzzy from the knock, she turned to see the other four men on either side nursing hard-ons. The only consolation was that, under the table, at least no one could see her predicament.

Or could they?

Unseen to Chloe, Manning held a finger to his lips as his big toe continued to work her cunt slit. The others raised their glasses from the surface and grinned as the table cloth was lifted away to reveal the glass surface beneath. Quickly the game was forgotten as a far more thrilling one arose. From above they enjoyed the perfect view of the hapless girl beneath on her knees. With her head bowed and in a state of shock, Chloe had no idea she was on display like a fish in a bowl.

The prodding motion from Manning's foot pushed her ever closer to Big Col. She glanced up to see a python-like black cock being held tight. As he drew back the thick foreskin, a head the size of a cricket ball was unveiled. Those around the table saw it too, and though they were all manly men they couldn't help but marvel at its size and rubbery texture.

The big man wasted no time in slapping the semi-hard member around Chloe's face, rubbing his precum into her cheeks. At the same time, Charlie and Jeff decided it was time to take a piece of the action, reaching under to clamp a nipple each, pinching, squeezing and twisting through the dress. Chloe went to groan but the sound was muffled as the thick cock was forced into the waiting lips. The bulbous head stretched her mouth and threatened to snap her jaw and Chloe couldn't help but gag. Big Col looked on, seemingly unable to get the shaft any further inside the pretty schoolteacher's tight mouth.

Manning stopped toeing her pussy, his big toe stained with cunt juice. Twisting the foot sideways he booted her arse like a karate expert, sending her waif-like body forward and in the process impaling three inches of thick shaft in her mouth. Breathing rapidly through the nose, Chloe fought not to choke to death, spluttering and gagging as the implausibly large organ split her lips. Three more times Manning booted her arse like he was trying to hammer in a stake.

Either side, hands were now down the front of the dress, groping each breast, squeezing like they were sizing up pieces of fruit for ripeness. And, unbeknown to the hapless Chloe, all six men were watching every moment of her humiliation.

Having tickled her tonsils, Big Col pulled out of her mouth, smearing the spittle from his hard tool over her cheeks. Chloe breathed in fits and starts, her heart racing, her head still in a state of disorientation. Brief respite, she was rotated like a Lazy Susan on a restaurant table to face Charlie. His cock was out in a flash. Half the size of Col's in all dimensions, it was able to fit snugly in the warm mouth. "Suck me, bitch," he commanded.

Chloe issued mute protestations, until Bill Mason reached below and administered a volley of spanks to her bare arse and goading words. Chloe's body jerked and in the process she inadvertently deepthroated the milkman. Sucking as best she could, she was unable to bring him to orgasm before being rotated once more.

The familiar cock of Jack Willis was next to fill the wet recess. Mmm, how she'd loved that cock during their time together. It was a perfect seven inches of gorgeous meat. How she wished none of this had happened to cause their parting. This time she sucked with relish for old time's sake, receiving the accolade: "Oh yes you filthy little cock craving whore, you."

Hmph, maybe she WAS better off without him. He was just like the rest after all.

By the time she got to Frank Manning's cock, it had been well masturbated, the head generously lotioned with precum. As she sucked and licked, her own saliva, flecked with precum, drooled from the sides of her mouth. Manning passed her on before his excitement got the better of him.

Her mouth was stretched and sore by the time she arrived at headmaster Bill Mason. Bill was rougher than the others, wanting to fuck her face like it was a tight little pussy, telling her that naughty little girls didn't have a choice, that they were there to be used. Too exhausted to offer any resistance, she let him get on with, her ears used for support as he banged hard in and out of her pretty mouth. As a result, he came quickly, spraying a wad of spunk in her throat. Chloe was allowed ten seconds to swallow and compose before she was booted towards Jeff Andrews.

When five minutes sucking elapsed and she saw every man wanking furiously, Chloe had a fair idea of what was coming next, powerless to do anything about it. The hunch was confirmed when Manning ordered her onto her back. The games teacher and milkman delivering in unison, ropes of cum aimed at her face, slashing at it. Traces found a way onto her tongue but in the main it remained on her face in a puddle blister, dewdrops hanging from her nose and chin. Glancing up, Chloe opened her mouth to receive the load Jack despatched with a satisfied grunt. This time she swallowed hungrily, savouring the seed of her ex-lover before Manning unloaded a massive wad of spunk, covering her face and matting her hair. By the end her face was covered in a gooey mess.

Wiping with her fingers, she sucked the sticky digits clean, tasting all the different flavours. As she lay on her back, staring up, her chest heaved. Jack tossed her a napkin and she cleaned up, finding her bearings and aghast to note that the table cloth had been removed. They'd been watching her throughout the ordeal, after all, no doubt revelling in the abject humiliation.

It was then also that she realised one man had still to cum, startling as Big Col reached to pull her by the leg like a caveman his woman. As she clambered up, he slid a huge hand around her inner thigh. For such a big man his touch was surprisingly tender, stroking and caressing that sensitive area just beneath her pussy. Her breathing raced and she was forced to bite her bottom lip as wetness gathered in her cunt. It was a mix of relief and disappointment to see that the monster cock had been put away.

Inevitably the big man's sure fingers found their way higher, one of the tips inspecting the full length of the moistened crack. Chloe groaned throatily as the slippery labia were teased apart and the roving digit entered the warm recess. In actual fact this finger wasn't much thinner than some cocks, the tip itself reminiscent of a cock head. The walls of Chloe's pussy stretched to accommodate the entry before clamping snugly around the intruding digit. She let out a lustful moan as the other five men looked on with mouths agape, regretful that they were spent.

Big Col held the finger in place, venturing no further, almost touching her clit but not quite. Indeed the tip was so close that when the tiny female love organ vibrated it grazed his nail. Chloe knew she shouldn't, that she should resist, but there was no turning back and she found herself unable to prevent herself from pressing down and frigging herself. Her clit was aflame with liquid desire and rarely had she wanted anything so badly. As her mouth formed an 'O', she held Col's shoulder for support and began to rotate her hips, working the swollen clit over and over the thick fingertip, up and down, in and out, her juices starting to flow in generous portions.

She glanced down into the big man's lap, seeing his cock tent inside the trousers. Suppressing a moan as she continued to pleasure herself on his finger, the lusty schoolteacher tentatively placed a tiny hand over the bulge, tracing its thick length with a red nail. Big Col growled huskily beneath his breath. "Seems this hot little slut wants some nice black cock," he observed with a chuckle.




Teacher Training Ch. 04



Chloe half-heartedly shook her head, mouthing 'no', though it wasn't as if she had much choice in the matter. With that, Big Col extracted the finger from her pussy with a discernible slop. Holding the juice laden digit to his lips he tasted Chloe's honey, enthusing wildly. "Oh man, what a tasty little fucking cunt, what a juicy piece of pussy. Now bend over the table like a good slut," he ordered, wrestling down the zip.

Chloe hesitated, fear masking the lust in her eyes for a brief moment.

"I won't tell you twice, bitch," he threatened.

Chloe did as she was told, her breasts squashed to the cool table top, her arse in the air. Col stood and moved behind like a menacing shadow, mumbling sweet nothings under his breath. Reaching across he prised apart the pretty blonde's thighs and took a moment to admire the pink plumpness of her labia, licking his lips. Fringed with a light wisp of straw coloured pubic hair that was just starting to grow back, it was a pussy that craved attention, with tight and symmetrical folds and the clit having worked free from its hood to almost lie on the outside. "Man, I've gotta taste that juicy cunt first before I fuck it," the big man growled.

Climbing to his knees he took Chloe's firm round buttocks in hand, administering a good squeeze and easing them apart. As he continued to knead manfully, the pink slit opened like a spring flower petalling, glazed in morning dew. "Oh man, that is one helluva cunt," he enthused before clamping down his mouth.

The others could hear the sucking and slurping as their huge mate feasted upon Chloe's delightful pussy. One lash of the big man's tongue and Chloe writhed in ecstasy, her fingernails scraping the glass table top. As he sucked on her clit like a piece of chewing gum, she swore he was going to swallow it down. Chloe couldn't help but gush, little globules of her arousal smattering Col's mouth. Standing, he wiped a hand across his stained lips. "Man, that pussy tastes even better than it looks."

Down below Chloe blushed, yet craved more relief.

As if in answer to her prayers, Col took hold of the shaft of his huge appendage, working the bulbous cock head up and down the slimy pink crack. Chloe purred, lost in ecstasy. Yet, as he tried to go deeper, she was wracked with an overwhelming apprehension and fear for her wellbeing. It was obvious too what the others were thinking as they looked on – if that monster fucks her tight young pussy she'll be ruined for the rest of us. And the prospect of having a cunt like a fireman's bucket didn't exactly enamour Chloe. "Oh God no," she pleaded, forgetting the vow of silence as the fat cock head rubbed the tight slit. "Take my arse instead, please," she begged in desperation.

Immediately she regretted uttering the words. Yet they seemed to find favour with the enormous black beast who issued a throaty chortle before removing the juice stained knob from her pussy entrance, scraping the blunt tip over her perineum. "Oh baby," he sighed as his eyes focused on the brown bullseye, clenched as tight as a mouse's. "What a fucking hot damn piece of arse that is."

Vainly Chloe tried to fight back, wriggling like an eel as the cock head slid into the groove of her arse and nestled there. A couple of blunt stabs and it was obvious this little virgin knot was not for breaking. "God damn," complained Big Col. "We're gonna have to take this step-by-step."

Chloe winced, savouring the moment of relief as he pulled back.

Reaching over, the big man scooped up a glob of garlic dip on one of his thick digits, smearing it around the rim of the hole and in the centre as Chloe lay spreadeagled. The knot seemed to pucker, enough certainly to slide in the very tip of a big black finger. Chloe's arsehole squelched as Big Col worked the digit inside in a corkscrew motion. The garlic stung but it was nothing compared to the numb pain as her arse walls felt the knuckle stretching its way down. "Oh fuck no, that really hurts," she groaned, no longer caring if she gave herself away.

But the protestations came to no avail as, with a strong heave-ho, the whole finger was buried in her anal passage. As Col lifted upwards, Chloe's lightweight body elevated with the motion, her belly lifting off the surface. She was utterly at his whim. "Tee hee hee," he chuckled like a child with a new toy, repeating the trick several times.

"Ooh ooh no," Chloe complained, her anal walls expanding and contracting with the heightened breathing and from being stretched against her will.

Col twisted around gently inside her, gaining more leverage and making the arsehole ever more malleable. "Oh God," she moaned, banging her palms on the table top. "Please, no."

"Mmmmmmm, so fucking tight baby," the big man enthused.

Then with a plop her arse was empty once more, the knot closing tight and sealing itself around thin air. Big Col seemed to be thinking up a plan of attack. "You two, come round here," he commanded.

Charlie and Jeff walked either side, marvelling at the sight of Chloe's nether regions at such close proximity. Both wanted more than anything what Col was about to help himself to, their early eagerness to cum having conspired against them. As directed, each took a butt cheek and pulled. Chloe could feel the hole literally wrench open. She guessed it must be an inch across but surely no more, surely not her baby arse any more than an inch.

As the two men forced the gap open, Big Col lunged forward, trapping the very end of his tapered cock head in the gap. As the others let go, Chloe's buttocks snapped back snugly entrapping the spongy knob. Col let out a yelp, sucking in air through his clenched teeth and berating her for being such a tight white slut bitch. Hands on her shoulders, dwarfing the tiny young teacher, he angled to penetrate deeper, trying to drill the bloated head into the unfeasibly minute opening.

All the while he was thrusting away, he was talking to her in whispers, telling her what a hot piece of arse she was and how he wanted to get his whole cock inside and fuck her brains out. Chloe's breath raced and she came close to passing out, fingers clenched as the first inch of shaft buried itself in her bum, joining the fat cock head. Chloe whimpered and she too inhaled hard. She begged for clemency yet, despite everything, she discovered that her pussy was absolutely soaked, the glass table top directly beneath her midriff glazed with cloudy juice.

The anal penetration made her head swim and finally and thankfully she did pass out for a few precious moments. Coming to with a jolt, it was some consolation to find that the whole thick long cock was up inside her tight bumhole, Col's big black hairy balls resting close to her pussy. She shifted once more to try to get comfortable, grateful when he pulled back away and out of her with a plop. Once more the hole went to seal but this time it was dilated, presenting a perfect target to aim at.

The relief of her emptiness was short-lived as he thrust purposefully forward once more. Her arse walls stretched, the muscles yielding unwillingly as six inches of fat cock worked its painful way inside, the rest stuck outside like an uninvited guest. Chloe's tiny frame jerked forward like she was trying to get away. She was moaning and panting, unable to believe this was happening.

Half a dozen plunges of similar force, each marked a little girlie squeal, and Col was able to plough right up to the base. That last length hurt like buggery and Chloe screamed out, desperate for something to cling onto, her hands finding no grip on the slick table. "Oh yeah baby, that's it, take it all," Col encouraged as he held inside her, feeling some sinew snap and the muscles yield to his urgings as he jiggled.

As the others looked on aghast, the big man drew back and started to pump furiously from the buttocks, the sound of flesh slapping flesh echoing through the room. In and out he worked, back and forth into the sphincter until finally the pain for Chloe crossed the line into pleasure. She raised a thigh, enabling her to rub at her sensitive clit. She needed an orgasm like never before, exhaling as Col grunted and unloaded a stream of cum that painted her insides. "Oh fuck yes, you horny little bitch," he cried, pulling out quick, his cock throbbing with numb pain.

Chloe writhed on the table like a fish denied water.

"Fuck I want that hot cunt of hers," insisted Bill Mason, climbing to his feet and leaning over, flipping Chloe on to her back like a rag doll before climbing unceremoniously on top, trousers and pants round his ankles.

Chloe offered little resistance as the dirty old headmaster sucked at her neck and pawed her tits, his buttocks bouncing as he slammed in and out of her sopping wet pussy with purpose. Chloe clenched her thighs, drawing him close and feeling her orgasm range in as he thrust with abandon. He was dribbling all over her like a down-and-out, seemingly devoid of control. As he shot his cum shot deep into her womb, both cried out in ecstasy.

Barely able to draw breath before Charlie was upon her, the milkman filled her cunt with a short stubby cock whilst fingering her arse leisurely. Oh my, how she'd been ignorant of the joys of anal penetration up to now. She squealed as she came once more, her clit seemingly on a trigger reflex.

Jeff Andrews had his own ideas about how to use their plaything to the best advantage, mounting the table top, knees either side, straddling her face. Gripping hold of the French Maid's outfit, he lowered it to Chloe's belly, exposed her pert breasts. "Squeeze those babies tight together," he ordered.

Drained of any resistance, Chloe pushed her boobs together, forming enough cleavage to encase the hard cock that had slunk between. Jeff bucked and fucked back and forth through the fleshy orbs whilst watching Jack Willis move between her legs. Chloe jerked as both men pumped forcefully, before another indignity arrived like a slap in the face. "Lick my arse, you filthy slut," ordered Andrews from above as his titfucking grew ever more urgent. "Stick your tongue right up there, you dirty whore."

Chloe grimaced, but a well aimed backhander to the cheek brought her back to her senses. Unwillingly she pressed out her tongue into the sweat-stained groove of the games teacher's arse. Chloe teased the knot with the tip, experiencing a slightly acrid taste. It wasn't as bad as she'd imagined and it was only when she stopped to think about what she was actually doing that she gagged. Soon, however, her reluctance was forgotten and as Jack down below brought her to the throes of ecstasy once more, she found herself licking Andrews' butthole with relish.

As Jack grunted and pumped his seed up into her womb, Jeff fired his load down her stomach.

As Chloe lay sprawled on the table top, chest heaving, Frank Manning called time. "Okay guys, the fun's over."

"Damn I want to see her pretty face," commented Mason, and before Chloe could react, her mask was in the headmaster's grasp.

It came away easily.

Mason's face dropped. "Miss Hunt...?"

"Chloe!" Jack exclaimed.

"Oh my God!" added Jeff and Charlie in unison.

Only Big Col remained quiet, though he appreciated the connection.

"It's a long story," uttered Frank Manning, as if by way of explanation. "You lot had better get going."

One by one they filtered out, leaving just the ragged, teary schoolteacher and the repentant host.

* * *

Chloe avoided school on Monday morning, rising only when the doorbell chimed in the early afternoon. It was Kevin Manning. "Leave me alone," she groaned through the letterbox.

"Please miss, I feel so bad about what's happened."

Chloe exhaled – as if that was going to make things right. "Look Kevin, just go. I on't want to see anyone today."

"Honestly miss, I didn't mean for things to go as far as they did, so now I want to help make up for what I've done."

Her spirits at an all time low ebb, reluctantly Chloe held open the door. "Get it over with, Kevin," she said wearily, opening the dressing gown to expose her gorgeous breasts.

Kevin looked back quizzically. "No miss, don't be stupid. I can help you out."

Chloe had a thumping headache and really didn't want to hear the ramblings of a psychotic schoolboy.

She was glad afterwards that she did. It gave her the courage to do what needed to be done.

* * *

"Come in Miss Hunt," mumbled Mr Mason the next day, looking somewhat haggard. Clearly he hadn't slept much. "About the other day..."

"That's exactly why I'm here."

"Oh."

"I guess you must think you have a hold over me as I'm just a young teacher you can sack at whim."

Mason pursed his lips. They were true words of course.

"Well here's my notice, I quit. I'm afraid I don't want this lousy job any longer. And you know what, I'm going to the school governors, then the newspapers and then the police."

"Oh, come come, stop being melodramatic Miss Hunt."

"Melodramatic?" Chloe was ready to boil over.

"Now I'm sure you realise only too well that the police would be more than interested in your affair with young Manning."

"Young Manning, as you call him, officially left school on Friday. He wasn't a pupil at this school when we made love," Chloe shot back, battling to control her emotion. 

Mason started to shake. Quickly he realised that the group had no hold over her. There was nothing preventing her carrying out the threat. "You can't...I'll be ruined...I'm two years away from my pension...Oh, Chloe please."

"I won't mess around, Mr Mason I want sixty thousand from you all to maintain my silence. Most of you are married and I'm sure all of you don't want to go to prison. You've until the end of the week."

With that she stormed out, head held high.

* * *

A fortnight later, Chloe's bank account had a lovely six-figure look to it. As such she wasn't in too great a hurry to find another job, though a vacancy in the paper had caught her eye. Whilst training to be a teacher she'd passed some physiotherapy exams. She was more or less fully qualified.

"Hello, Branton Rugby Club."

"Oh hi, I'm enquiring about the physiotherapist job advertised in The Recorder."

Mmmmmmm, it was almost perfect: all those big strong rugby players with back complaints and torn muscles. Chloe tingled at the mere thought.

*

With due apologies for the whimsical conclusion, but I thought after all Chloe had gone through, a happy ending was only fair.

Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing.

Please check out my other stories and keep the feedback coming.



Teacher Training Time Ch. 01



With apologies to writer Edward Bulwer-Lytton, it was a dark and stormy night. The novelist may have written those words more than 150 years ago, but I have always wanted to begin a story that way.

Yet it was not a dark night a couple months back, the sun was setting but there was still enough light to see things as I gazed across at room 23 at the inexpensive Friendly Motel owned by my friend Jake's family. 

Nor was it stormy, as in fact we were in the middle of a southern New Jersey drought. Normally this time of year the corn was six to eight feet high, the flowers blooming in wonderful colors and the watermelons humongous. 

Still, I had always wanted to write that line, which somehow came to mind because I was so darn bored. I kicked myself for having to be at the seedy motel, known as a No Tell Motel by teenagers and others with a bent for discretion, but it was something I needed to do. See, I had lost $2,800 on a "sure bet" at the race track and I needed to pick up a few bucks in addition to my regular job as an accountant at a local insurance company.

I told Jake of my troubles, he asked me to fill in for a couple months, a day here and there, and both of our problems would be solved. I got the money I needed and he had someone reliable to relieve him until his wife got back from helping her mother in Pittsburgh. Simple and convenient, if not dark and stormy.

So why am I telling you all this? Simple, it was the person who left room 23 at 6:32 p.m. this Wednesday evening. I remember checking the guy in earlier in the afternoon, about 3, but didn't see his "company". But when "he and she" emerged that night from the room a whirlwind of memories wisked through my brain like a Midwest wind storm. 

It was Mrs. Jennifer Sinkinson, my 12th grade homeroom teacher, leaving the motel room in early evening with a man I was betting was not her husband. 

Oh, she was a bit chunkier, her hair was lighter and she seemed smaller than I remembered, but there was no way I could ever forget that face. 

I hated the bitch.

Okay, okay, I know, 12 years was a long time to hold a grudge, but Mrs. Sinkinson caused me nothing but heartache my senior year. It wasn't enough that she was on my case about this or that for the entire school year, but with just a month to go before graduation she scored a triple play of trying to destroy my life.

Let me back up. I was never a great student, but I got Bs and Cs in all my classes. The one Mrs. Sinkinson taught, an elective course in the political election process, was an easy B for everyone in the class ---- except for me. I got off on the wrong side of the woman the first week of classes, and it got worse as the year went on. Nothing I could do would satisfy her, everything I did was wrong. I was barely holding on to a C through midterms and struggled over the second half of the year.

Still, things were going on well for me. I had plans to travel the west for the summer, I found an unbelievable girlfriend in Tiffany Dawson, and had already decided to spend the next year at a local campus of Penn State. 

Tiffany was a heck of a find. I had been with two other girls before meeting Tiff, and she was a whole lot different. While I had gotten lucky with Barbara Ann Fahey and Connie Whelan, Tiffany didn't believe in sex before marriage. So why was that good? Tiffany was one hell of a cocksucker. Uh huh, while she wouldn't have sex with me she had no problem sucking me off nearly whenever I desired. 

The girl was a natural born cocksucker, and I found that out on our third date when she gave me a fantastic blow job in the parking lot behind Lone Star. That was followed by an equally incredible head job the following Saturday, and soon, why, while I wasn't getting any pussy I was getting the mouth of a pro four times a week. This was a once in a lifetime babe, a girl who enjoyed pleasing a guy as long as that pleasure would in no way make her pregnant. 

Which brings us to that fateful day in May. Mrs. Sinkinson had hated my essay on the Senatorial race, and the F she gave me brought my average down to near failing. What's worse, she came into home room when Jill Berger and I were in the midst of a word fight over some stupid thing or another. Jill was a know it all who was the teacher's pet, and when she told Mrs. Sinkinson I had smacked her (I hadn't) the teacher marched me down to Principal Sloan's office.

The ensuing circle jerk turned into a free for all where my mouth got the best of me, and I was sent packing on a three-day suspension. That caused me to miss a test, and Mrs. Sinkinson promptly gave me a zero only to be moved to a 60 when my parents complained. Still, one-two-three, that sunk my year. I was sentenced to six weeks of summer school, effectively killing my summer plans.

That was the least of my problems, as Mrs. Sinkinson told Tiffany that not only had I smacked Jill, but that I had also been caught in the act of fondling the girl. She said that Jill and I had been an item, sneaking around behind Tiffany's back. 

Why, I will never know, but Tiffany believed the teacher and not me, and she sent me packing from her life, sans blow jobs and summer fun. 

Just as I had begged Tiffany to reconsider dumping me, I pleaded with Mrs. Sinkinson to give me a passing grade and let me out of summer school hell, to no avail. Whatever it was the woman hated my guts. In one day I had essentially failed a course, got sent to summer school and lost my best of breed, cocksucking girlfriend for good.

I despised Mrs. Sinkinson.

Still, things worked out pretty good for me. I eventually got over all the senior crap, found other (but not as expert at beejays) women and breezed through college into a decent paying job and career. 

So there I was that fateful evening spotting Mrs. Sinkinson slithering out of a No Tell Motel with a man who was not her beloved husband. How did I know? The two had been written up a couple months before in the local newspaper for their generous work with an area charity, he decked out in a tuxedo and she in an evening dress complete with a diamond pendant. At the time, I didn't think much about it, but when I saw her, and the man, emerging from the motel room I put two and two together and realized Mrs. Sinkinson was being a naughty girl. 

People like her did not frequent my friend's motel to discuss lesson plans, unless those lessons were of the sensual kind and involved a rustling of the sheets. 

As they drove away I wondered about the liaison, what was going on and how often. The teacher had always seemed so prim and proper, but on this day the now, well, 50-year-old was dressed like a girl half her age. She had on a low cut top, an above the knee skirt and the stockings she wore had a black seam up the back. 

No, this wasn't her teaching attire. And yes, they had been up to something. 

Over the next week I checked on the woman, found her still to be teaching at the school, married, and a pillar in the community. 

Oh, and on the following Thursday I found out she had a regular rendezvous with the same guy as the week before. This time I remembered him from the preceding week, watched as he signed the register as John Smythe (how cute) and slip back into his late model dark blue car. I gave him the same room and watched as Mrs. Sinkinson glanced around before exiting the car and scurrying into number 23.

Waiting a few minutes to get them time to settle in, I imagined what might be going on in the room. Finally, my mind got the better of me, and I forwarded the phone to my cell, put out the "Be back in 10 minutes" sign, locked the office door and let myself in to room 22. Listening through the thin walls I heard their cries of passion as they rocked the bedsprings for more than an hour. I left, went back a while later, and they were at it again. 

And I got an idea: revenge on teacher.

It wasn't easy, because when I confronted the woman at a charity outing she denied everything. She called me a few names, said she had never been to and such place, and said if I ever came near her again the police would be involved.

Obviously, without proof, I couldn't so a thing. The coupling twosome would never come to the motel again, obviously, and undoubtedly would cool their jets until the coast was clear. Damn. I guess I just wasn't cut out for a position as a blackmailer.

A couple nights later, sitting at the front desk of the motel and absentmindedly checking another "Husband and Wife" looking for a night away from the kids and or spouses, it struck me. 

The surveillance cameras.

The motel was equipped with two of the beauties, one at the front desk and one in the parking lot. They were changed every three days on a rotational basis. It took a week to rotate through the bunch, and I quickly looked at Thursday's tape. 

Sure enough the two love birds were caught on tape entering the lot and parking by the cashier's door. His face was fully visible paying for the room, and the parking lot camera caught the horny twosome getting out of the car, holding hands, and going into room 23. Through the open blinds you could see them embrace, kiss and feel each other up before closing the shades.

A little over three hours later and a little ruffled, the two exited the room and got back in the car and drove away.

No, not damning, but surely incriminating. I called a friend at DMV, promised him a $100 finder's fee, and had the plates run on the car...voila, a Mr. Brandon Cantwell, a long-time business partner of Mrs. Sinkinson's husband.

That night I printed several still shots from the video, making sure I caught each of their faces and the motel room in the background. I had a great shot of them in the room, curtains open, making out. The next day I followed her from school, parking one row over at Target, and "accidentally" running into her inside.

"Get away from me or I will call the cops," said Mrs. Sinkinson, reaching for her cell phone, the minute she saw me. 

I handed her an envelope, and walked away. Outside, I stood away from the front door and waited for her exit. Minutes later she did, spotted me, and walked over. She was flushed and I swore she shook.

"These don't prove anything," spat the woman. 

"No they don't, Mrs. Sinkinson, except that I have the video of your coming to the motel each week on Thursday afternoon for a month. I have your husband's business partner's signature from the front desk, but of more importance, numerous photos of you and him in the car. I have you exiting the car for a room. I have the two of you spending hours at a time alone in the room, including a lot of kissing and fornicating. Something tells me I have a lot of proof for your sweet husband and his darling wife to see....gee, maybe I can have your husband and Mr. Cantwell compare notes."

Mrs. Sinkinson blanched at the mention of her husband's business partner. 

Okay, okay, I didn't really have them screwing, but she didn't need to know that. Or that I didn't have weeks of them meeting, or that who knows if handwriting analysis would agree that he signed the book. Who cares, I had photos of them together for hours and a lot of innuendo. 

The woman looked as if she smelled a fart. Or tasted something foul. She probably wished those two things were true and not my little potential expose. 

"What do you want?"

Silently staring at her, a small smile began to grace my lips. My wish was coming true, as I believed I had her where I wanted her. It was time to make my proposition. 

"I want my lost summer back, I want Tiffany back, and I want you to set everything right."

The woman looked at me as if I was from Mars or beyond.

"You know that's impossible, I can't do that. I can't turn back the hands of time."

Mrs. Jennifer Sinkinson was correct, of course. Still I pressed on, a man with a mission. "No, but you can at least make things up to me."

She looked at me as if I had just farted at a party. "Oh, I sleep with you and you will forget all this? Yea, right, in your dreams. You are a disgusting example of a sub-human."

I told her I knew she would say that, and that I had made numerous copies of the photos and videos and addressed them to her principal, friends at the prestigious country club she and her were members of, Cantwell's wife and board members of her charitable organization. I had dozens of other ideas as well. So it was no skin off my back how she felt. Saying the words was one thing, but the look in here eyes, the way she sort of cringed when I mentioned "the club" gave me hope she might give in. 

The woman stared at me with watermellon eyes in disbelief. I could tell her mind was all twirled as she thought of a way out. She glanced at around, as if a Good Samaritan might appear. Maybe she was awaiting her fairy godmother. Nobody came to her defense, and soon she realized her predicament. 

Mrs. Sinkinson could barely look at me, but she silently mouthed the words. "I'm sorry...I'm truly sorry for what I did. Is that what you want?"

Nodding my head, I shook her hand and gracefully accepted her apology. But I also wanted a little something more. Giving her detailed instructions ensuring we wouldn't be followed, I outlined my simple demands.

"I want a blow job, a good one like the ones you cost me from Tiffany's wonderful mouth. I want them for several weeks, my lost summer and your summer school, so to speak. And I want you to like it. Smile even. After that this all goes away and you go back to your life with the knowledge nobody will ever know."

The woman appeared puzzled and shocked at the same time. "I don't do that."

"What?"

"I don't...you know...use my mouth."

Will wonders ever cease? I know there was a time when girls didn't like oral sex, but in the new millennium? 

What's the one thing that will cause a woman to stop giving blow jobs? As the old joke goes, "a wedding ring." 

I looked at Mrs. Sinkinson and realized from her expression that she clearly had distaste for oral sex. 

"Ever?" I inquired?

"Never."

Smiling I told her how lucky it was that I would be the one she'd practice and learn on. And, surprisingly, she didn't say no. She didn't say yes either. 

Three days later after a number of evasive maneuvers that would have made the newest of James Bonds proud, I parked next to her near the beach and opened the door for her to get into my car. I had pushed down the passenger seat, and she lay back, trembling, as I put a headband over her head to block her view of where we were going.

"Don't hurt me," said the woman.

I assured her I wouldn't, that this would be our little secret if she kept her end of the bargain. To be safe I had patted her down to make sure she wasn't wearing a wire or tracking device. Minutes later I pulled into the Nomad Motel and guided her into room 23.

She obviously remembered the place when she removed the headband. 

We spoke for a while, most of the time it was her talking, begging, and asking me to forget about all of this. I reminded her of the photos, and of her position in the community, and how easy it would be to soil her reputation.

We got around to talking oral sex, and she admitted she hated thinking of the topic and surely had never done such a thing. She admitted to giving hand jobs and sex --- missionary, doggie style and even side by side a few times. But never a cock had been licked or sucked. 

"I don't even know how to start," admitted the woman. "I tried a couple times but it made me sick to my stomach."

Anticipating her reluctance, and slowly spoke of how millions of women were skilled in the art of fellatio. I couldn't prove it, of course, but it sounded good. Besides, I knew Tiffany had been an expert fellatrix and I figured at least 999,999 women were as well. 

Reaching into my knapsack, I pulled out one of my sister's cherry red vibrators and a ripe yellow banana. "Why don't you practice on these," I said, "and if you need instruction, you can watch the television."

I turned on an adult movie channel and watched as a clearly embarrassed woman carefully watched the screen. It was quite powerful knowing I had a hold over her, and I watched as she squirmed. She looked at me, shook her head, and then reached for the yellow fruit. 

She gave an okay blow job to the banana --- she couldn't bring herself to put the dildo in her mouth --- and even learned something from the film as she licked and jerked the and soon was getting the hang of things.

As I watched her practice I devised a plan to embarrass her yet keep her on the path I wanted. "How about if you jerk me off," I asked, "how about doing that?"

I thought she would kiss me she was so relieved, but there was a method to my madness. It was like a death row reprieve: compared to the alternative a life sentence isn't all that bad.

Sitting on the bed against a couple fluffy pillows, the mature teacher sat next to me and unzipped my pants and slid them down. She lowered my boxers as my cock sprung into the open as my former teacher watched it grow. Sitting next to me Mrs. Sinkinson placed her hand around my dick, caressed it, gauged its length and width, and slowly began stroking it to full attention. 

On one hand, I couldn't believe the mature teacher was jerking me off, while on the other, well, it wasn't great. Still, I persevered. I asked if she had any lotion, and she reached into her purse and removed a small bottle. She poured some onto her hand and my cock and then re-started her jerking motion. 

Up and down she went, alternating slow strokes with fast ones. The greased missile worked a lot better. Turns out she clearly had a talent for milking male meat as mine was obviously not the first dick she'd had in her hands. Maneuvering her to the side, I slipped a hand down the back of her pants and under her panties to get a feel of her ass. 

The woman jerked me off for a few minutes as I held back my orgasm. I wanted to make this a memorable evening for my former teacher. 

"Are you going to cum?" asked the middle aged woman, staring at my cock.

"Oh yes, but not just yet," I replied, pulling her over my knees. 

The woman complained as I unhooked her pants, lowering them down the back of her thighs, but didn't stop me. I lowered her panties too, and began feeling her pretty ass. I played with it for a while before firmly striking it with the palm of my hand...once, twice, three and four times as she cried in pain.

"Tell me how sorry you are," I demanded.

I think at this point I had her, because she cried out "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to hurt you. Please stop...spanking me."

I know it hurt for her to say it, and I know she was not only embarrassed but humiliated. Here I was, 15 or more years her junior playing with her ass, spanking it, and having her work my dick like a young virgin.

Pushing her back, I asked her to finish the job she had started earlier in the evening. She slipped back onto her haunches and started stroking my dick again. This time she did it with a purpose, moving her hand up, down and around my cock. 

After a bit she circled the base with one hand, moving it up and down at the bottom while sliding her other hand up and down near the tip. It was an incredible feeling, and soon the woman had me shooting several spurts of cock sauce into the air. She didn't stop stroking until well after my orgasm had subsided. 

"Well, Mrs. Sinkinson, you have a real talent there...now clean it up."

The woman stood, pulled up her pants, and then headed to the bathroom. A minute later she came back with a warm towel and cleaned up my mess. I thought for a second of having her lick it up, but knew it would only bring reluctance down the road, and right now I knew I had the upper hand on the wayward teacher.

As we drove back to her car I was already planning my next rendezvous. I may have lost a summer of love and adventure, but what goes around comes around. It may not have been a dark and stormy night, but it was very, very exciting.



Teacher Training Time Ch. 02



(Part one of this story dealt with how I cajoled my former teacher, a married woman 15 years my senior, into a sexual rendezvous in a no-tell motel. While it is not required you read that story before this one, it will help you understand the situation she found herself in.)

One week after getting my former teacher into a hotel room and having her reluctantly jerk me off, an idea on how to get her to suck my dick struck me.

The woman had never sucked a cock, in marriage nor in her extramarital affair I caught her in. She begged me not to make her do it, but that was the ultimate payback for the bitch that ruined my summer vacation more than a decade before. 

I hated Mrs. Jennifer Sinkinson. These days she was a pillar of the community, hosting charity auctions and getting her photo taken with various local dignitaries at school openings and assorted other functions. But back in the day she was the teacher who ruined my summer by sending me to summer school and telling nasty stories to my then-girlfriend. That girl, Tiffany, was a blow job artist, a girl who could have been called Hoover for her sucking ability. 

Yes, Mrs. Sinkinson made that summer a living hell. Now, some 15 years later, I had the goods on her, photos of her and her husband's business partner making nicey nice in a local no tell motel, or at least the expectation they were being naughty. 

There were candid shots of her cavorting with a man not her beloved husband. Uh huh, I had the goods on the prim and proper socialite. And those goods had turned into a fine hand-job and promise of much, much more.

What I wanted, no, demanded, from the woman, was weeks of oral sex to make up for the summer lost. She nearly died on my demand, because she had never developed a like for blow jobs, admitting she had never really given one. 

That was about to change. 

It was Wednesday, and the social section of the local newspaper had a photo of Mr. and Mrs. Sinkinson unveiling a new portrait at the local senior citizen's center. It was quite nice. 

I mentioned that to her when I saw her the next day at Starbucks. 

"You looked very nice in the photo, Mrs. Sinkinson."

She looked at me with disgust. "Thanks, Jon. Now, can we discuss our arrangement? I've apologized, I did that other thing, and you got what you wanted. I'm humiliated. I'm sorry. Can we end this charade?"

I told the woman I appreciated her apology, but that I hadn't gotten what I wanted, that wonderful summer back. "You haven't blown me yet," I stage whispered, bringing heads of two middle aged men swiveling our way.

Mrs. Sinkinson stood and embarrassingly left the coffee shop as a smile crossed my face. I looked at the two guys, shook my head, and said: "women!" as they shook their heads in amazement at my outlandishness. 

Catching up to my former teacher in the parking lot, I reminded her of our deal, and that I expected, no, demanded she perform in the manner she agreed. If so, the photos would disappear and she could go back to her perfect life. 

"Look, I'm not going to hurt you. The other nice was great, and you weren't the worst for it. Come on, make the best of a bad situation Mrs. S," I quietly asked. 

She shook her head yes, I think. At least she didn't say no. 

"When?" 

"Now."

She blanched, as if she ate something distasteful. Still, she shook her head yes. "I have about two hours. Is that okay? But we have to come to an understanding about all of this."

I reminder her of the photos, but agreed this wasn't going to last forever. This time she got into my car and we sped directly to the motel. Jake had conveniently kept "our" room vacant and I had a key. Once inside I asked the woman, nicely, to strip to her underwear.

Standing before be in her bra and panties, I reached into my knapsack and pulled out a strawberry flavored condom. I held it up to the woman as her eyes widened in shock. "We can screw, Mrs. Sinkinson, but I know you don't want to do that, so consider a blow job the lesser of two evils. And you can use a condom, a flavored condom, so you don't even have to touch my cock."

The woman grimaced when I said the word cock, but she didn't say know. I could tell her mind was exploring the alternatives: she could let me screw her, a fate worse than death, or suffer the torture of sucking my cock. The blow job won out.

"Okay, what do I do? Uh, let's make this quick," said the woman, all at once agreeable to sucking my condom-sheathed cock. Considering the bareback alternative, I had to surmise this was the lesser of two evils. 

Assuring the woman it wouldn't take all that long, I asked her to unzip my pants and lower them. She did, then I told her to kiss my boxers...right near the bulge in them. This time she was slower to comply, but she eventually did. Watching her move her head toward me was quite exciting and my dick nearly extended to its full length and pulsated. 

I gave her the condom packet, and told her to take it out. She did, holding it in her hand. I directed her to take her other hand and lower my boxers. This she also did, and recoiled back as my dick sprang out of its confines. 

There I was, standing with cock fully extended. I sat down on the bed, and helped the woman kneel in front of me in only her flimsy bra and panties. The woman had quite a taste in underwear, as only the frilliest, sexiest garb from Nordstrom would suffice. Getting her to roll the condom on me was quite a feat, as she barely knew what to do from her lack of experience but I think she was attempting to prolong the time it took in hopes I might change my mind. 

That wasn't going to happen, as I fully enjoyed the time it took for her to fumble her way around my cock. 

Fully clothed my cock looked even bigger, and the woman begged to get out of her ordeal. "It's too big, I can't put it in my mouth, I'll gag, please stop!" 

Okay, I have to admit I don't have the biggest cock in the land, it's barely over six inches in length and several inches around, but to the married woman kneeling in front of me it could have been a California Redwood. It had a mind of its own, bouncing around, and I enjoyed watching her watching it. 

"Mrs. Sinkinson, we're running out of time, and I would hate for you to have to call your husband and tell him you will be late because you haven't finished sucking your former student's cock. I'd hate to have to send around those photos of you."

That sparked the woman to action. She opened her mouth and moved it onto my cock. I don't know how to describe it, but it was as if she thought she had to swallow it.

I cautioned her to go easy, pay attention to the tip, enjoy the strawberry taste and pretend it was a popsicle. I advised her to jerk the base of my cock like she had the prior week, but instead of moving her hand all the way to the top to just take it to where her mouth slipped down.

"Suck the tip, Mrs. S., and jerk the base...uh, yes, yes, now you're getting the hang of it."

She really was. No, she wasn't a natural born cocksucker, but she was getting better at it with each passing minute. I have to tell you that just the view of my former teacher going down on my pole was enough to send my loins a-pumping, but I held back to savor the sensations of her sucking mouth.

Working my dick up and down with her hand she did a nice job of sucking the tip. I asked her to hold my ass with her other hand and she quickly complied. Soon, my dick was pulsing and I felt the cum rushing from deep inside my ball sack.

I wanted the blow job to last but it was just too erotic a sight. I came in several powerful spurts as she took her mouth away from the cock and jerked it to completion. Once done, she started to pull away but I held her close and rubbed the flavored condom sheathed cock all over her milky white face, a reminder of what she had just done. 

After a minute or so of further humiliation I allowed her to rise, and she headed right to the bathroom to rinse out her mouth. A few minutes later she emerged, none the worse for her fellating activity, and me greeting her with a mischievous smile. 

"Mrs. Sinkinson, that was awesome. Are you sure you've never done that before?" 

She quickly nodded her head no.

"Well it won't be the last time!" I reminded her. 

Her face blanched.