tangled maximus

One day she definitely knew the effect she had on me, even if she hadn’t before. I was writing an essay on The Grapes of Wrath and asked Mrs. B when she came by if a word was spelled correctly. She leaned over, her silky red hair brushing against my cheek and her breast lay against my left shoulder. My cock stiffened instantly—and uncomfortably. Without thinking, I reflexively reached down and maneuvered my throbbing dick into a more comfortable position. It did create a sizable tent pole in my pants that I tried to push down and hide, which only drew attention to my crotch. Mrs. B blushed noticeably, stood up while stifling a laugh and muttered an apology.

“You’re so cute! You know I always want you to take what you want.” She looked towards the stall door. “Even if it gets me fired. Come here.” She took my hand and drew me closer. She stuck out her tongue and licked my now dangling cock at her eye level. She took it all into her mouth. “I just wanted a mouthful of your cum and I get this. My cock obliged by weakly dribbling a few drops of cum into Carol’s warm mouth. “Mmmm….best thing I’ve eaten all day.” She lifted up on one cheek and wiped her bum with the shirt. It was drenched with semen. “I’ll have to hide that one in the trash,” she smirked. “Hand me my panties. I’ve got to clean up in the ladies’ room. I’m supposed to meet my husband for lunch in 20 minutes. I hope he doesn’t notice I’m walking funny.” She pulled her panties on, smoothed her dress and arranged her hair in the mirror. She wrapped her arms around my waist and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon.” She disappeared quietly out of the door.

“You should shower, big boy. I can’t take you home all sweaty. I’ll make us some drinks—vodka?”“Uh, sure.” Those were the days…