Copyright � 1998,�� Shakespeare_I._Aint.� ALL Rights Reserved
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Teacher Passes the Test, Part 5 of 10, Kind of Slutty for a
Cheerleader
It was four days later, on a Tuesday, when my pent-up
sexual energy spilled over.� I was
sitting in my last class of the day, Calculus, when I knew I had to have my
Teacher again.� It's hard to do calculus
with a raging hard-on.�
When the bell finally rang, I dumped my books into my
locker and sought out my teacher, Cynthia Van Horn in her Humanities
class.�
Cynthia had changed since I had done her last.� She looked older now, more mature.� More like a twenty-nine year old
schoolteacher and less like the spoiled cunt I had rained semen onto in the
backseat of her Ford Expedition.� She was
more deferent to me; my opinions mattered; my essay questions perfect.� Amazing what a bit of the old ultra-violent
can do.
I caught my teacher alone in her class.� She froze when she saw me, like a deer in the
headlights.�
"Mrs. Van Horn?"
"yes, Damien?", she
whispered in fear.�
"I was wondering if I could get some special
tutoring this afternoon.� Say, in about
twenty minutes in the upstairs Janitor's closet?"
"no..."
"yes," I whispered
back.�
"Damien, I've got cheerleading practice today.� I don't have...I can't...not here..."
"Practice starts in half an hour.� I'll only need you for about five minutes, if
you're good.� Anyway, now that you
mention it, wear a cheerleader's outfit.�
That might speed things up for me, if you know what I mean."
"Damien.�
Please.� I'm begging you."
"Twenty minutes.�
Clock's running."
I left.
Twenty minutes later, I went upstairs to the second floor
of the mostly empty high school.� When
the coast was clear, I slipped into the Janitor's closet.� And found my pretty little schoolteacher
already there.� Already changed into an
old cheerleader's outfit; her own clothes neatly folded, for once, on a
shelf.� Crying softly to herself.� The
Janitor's closet was a weakly-lit, narrow, rectangular room with shelves of
strong-smelling cleaning agents and the equipment needed to keep the school
looking presentable.� Mops,
and a low white mop sink at the rear.� A folding chair for the Janitor to sit in when he was hiding here
from the administration.� And my silky, blonde, short-haired teacher.� Almost cringing away as I approached.�
"Still spooked from last Friday?"
She nodded immediately.�
"Don't worry about that.� I was just punishing you for a
transgression.� It's water under the
bridge, okay?"
She nodded disbelievingly at me.�� Always best to go along with the
insane.�
"Anyway, that was punishment.� This is instruction.� We've got about ten minutes, give or take,
before the Janitor comes in here.�
Understand?"
Cynthia Van Horn's eyes widened in
shock.� She looked almost eager to
get on with this.� So she could
escape.� I walked over to my backpack and
removed a nice flesh-colored buttplug.� Not too big.�
Not too small.� I walked to my
Cindy, who stood as far away from me as she could get.
"Sit down."
Cindy sat woodenly in the folding chair.� She wore the ridiculous purple and white
heavy cloth cheerleading ensemble of the Clinton High School Harts.� A hart was or is apparently a large deer in
"In your mouth, then up your butt.� It stays there through cheerleading
practice."
Cindy immediately took the plug and plunged it into her
mouth, coating it liberally with her saliva.�
In a big hurry to get me off before we were discovered.� She pulled the plug out of her mouth and
spread her legs as she sat on that folding chair.� No panties.�
Shaved beaver.�
Dark pink vagina and rosebud asshole.� She wasted no time pushing the intruder into
her rectum, not even bothering to signal her discomfort with a moan.� Her eyes did close with the effort though.� When it was firmly seated, she sat gingerly
forward and waited.� Time
for some shock therapy.� I stood
in front of her and stripped naked, my cock jutting obscenely towards her
face.� She almost leaned forward to
engulf it, in such a hurry to leave was she.� Terrified of being
discovered with a student.� Even if she didn't have a choice.�
"I don't want a blowjob, Mrs. Van Horn," I said
quietly.� "I want a handjob."
"Just a handjob?"
"Well...�
No.� Actually there is more.� But I'll get to that.� Hold out your hand."
My pretty little schoolteacher held out her small hand,
and I squirted a generous dollop of lubricant into her palm.� Then with a smile and a flourish, I made a
nice pirouette, my ass in her face.� I
bent over and grabbed my cheeks, spreading them, offering myself for her
inspection.�
"Toss my salad, Cindy."
"what?" she whispered,
unbelievingly.�
"Toss my salad.�
You know.� Lick my asshole."
"oh no...� i
can't... oh no..."
"We've got about eight minutes left.� Would you like to talk for awhile?"
"oh please...� anything....�
i'll blow you..."
"Time's a-wasting.�
And I've got something else for you when this is done.� So I wouldn't waste a whole lot of time on
this one act if I were you."
I waited expectantly, my ass hanging in mid-air in front
of my horrified schoolteacher's gaze.� I
waited.� And then I felt the warm satin
wetness of her tongue washing my anus.� I
leaned back slightly and her tongue entered me.�
Heaven.�
I luxuriated in the feel of her tongue up my ass.� Then it withdrew.� I heard my little schoolteacher gagging and
sobbing quietly as she worked.�
"Wash me."
Her unwilling tongue bathed my sensitive anus.� I spread my legs for more balance.�
"Now put your hand through my legs and stroke my
cock, Mrs. Van Horn.� Hurry, you've only
got about six minutes."
Her hand reached through my legs.� And she milked me as she laved my
butthole.� And it was good.� All too soon, I felt my semen well up and erupt
onto her hand and down to the floor.� I gasped
with the pure relief of four days of pent-up seed.� My asshole spasmed on her tongue.� I stood frozen in place as my cock
shrank.� Cindy's tongue left my backside
and her hand dropped off my cock.� I
wheeled around on her.�
"That was great.�
I can't tell you how much I loved that.�
Anyway, one little thing and then we're done."�
I grabbed the underside of her chair and leaned her back
against the low-slung mop sink.� The back
of Cindy's neck rested on the front rim.�
Her eyes stared at me in fear.� I
straddled her body, my cock dangling in front of her face.� I waited.�
"I'd say we have about four minutes left,
Cindy.� Last Friday, I gave you a
beautiful facial.� Today, I'll work on
your hair.� I think you need an
astringent to balance the P.H. level in your hair.� You'll have a few minutes left, hopefully, to
towel or blow dry your hair.� But don't
wash your hair until you get home, understand?"
I arranged my pretty little teacher's short blonde
tresses over the sink and did some multiplication tables in my head.� Within a minute, the first drops of my urine
made a landing on her scalp.� Having
secured the beach head, the rest of my medium yellow piss followed, showering
her head and falling down toward the drain.�
I jetted my liquid love onto my teacher's hair.� She lay there and took it; her eyes tightly
closed as I bathed her in my affection.�
Her mouth pursed closed tightly, breathing gagging, rasping, sobs through
her nose.� I wetted her head
thoroughly.� She looked so
beautiful.� I held my final squirts.� The ones that clear the
plumbing.�
"Open."
Cindy obediently opened her mouth.� I dropped my penis into her mouth and
squeezed my muscles, sending the clearing jets of urine into her mouth.�� Cindy's response was immediate.� She whirled from a sitting position under me,
damn near throwing me off her.� The chair
went skittering crazily off.� My little
schoolteacher knelt in front of the mops sink and ejected my offering.� She spit my piss into the sink.� Oh well.�
Can't say as I blamed her.� I backed off and dressed hurriedly.� Cynthia Van Horn lay kneeling before the mop
sink crying and gagging softly.�
"Two minutes."
She stood up shakily and dropped the cheerleader skirt to
the floor.� Pulling the heavy top off,
she quickly dressed in her school marm clothes.� I tossed a comb to her.� She caught it and ran it through her hair,
careful to run the comb back through her hair to keep my fluids as far from her
face as she could.�
"I want to thank you for a lovely time, Cindy.� Remember, you keep the piss hair and the buttplug until you get home.� God, I love you."
She nodded tiredly, brushing past me, blotting her hair
with the cheerleader outfit.� She
left.� I followed at my leisure, knowing
the Janitor wouldn't be coming to this second floor closet.� After all, I knew that he would stay hidden
in the first floor closet until everyone had left the school.� He couldn't stand to do his job with his
betters watching him.� And he had that
first floor closet set up like a small apartment.� Probably why that one was always locked and
this one wasn't...
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The End of Teacher Passes the Test, Part 5 of 10, Kind of
Slutty for a Cheerleader, by Shakespeare_I._Aint
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In part six of Teacher Passes the Test, Spare the Rod and
Spoil the Teacher, our anti-hero puts his pretty little schoolteacher on the
cross he made her husband build.
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Teacher Passes the Test Parts 1-10 by Shakespeare_I._Aint
Part One:� It Was
Worth Breaking In
Part Two:� Mr.
Teacher's Wild Ride
Part Three:� Who
Sleeps On The Wet Spot?
Part Four:� Nothing
Like a Facial to Tighten up those Pores
Part Five:� Kind Of Slutty For a Cheerleader...
Part Six:� Spare The Rod And Spoil the Teacher
Part Seven: What Have You Been Eating?
Part Eight: Now That's Entertainment!
Part Nine: Walk This Way
Part Ten: All Good Things Have To Come Up Your End
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