melascula

Mrs. B. was a great teacher for 10th grade English. Funny, engaging, personable—and a bit flirty. She was in her late-20s, just a couple years out of The University of Michigan, cute, nice body and flaming red hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She knew the boys all lusted after her and she did nothing to discourage our interest. Students even gave her a nickname, “Bubbles.” The administration was not pleased, but Mrs. B. didn’t seem to mind. She liked the attention. Oh, and I think that we actually learned a lot of English Lit between the horsing around.

“Awww…fuuuccckkkk! Geeeezzzzuuuus fuck!” Carol’s body convulsed in pleasure as her hips ground onto my tongue and finger. “Yeah! Yeah! God! Oh God! Yeah! Fuck!” She dropped down onto her elbows as the waves of pleasure subsided. Goosebumps rose on her muscular ass. “That was fantastic. Do it some more. Please.” I put my fingers on either side of her asshole and pulled, trying to open her hole a bit for my tongue. I wiggled my tongue a bit into the tiny opening. Her sphincter and ass cheeks tightened reflexively at the attempted violation. Carol giggled with delight. “That feels so good. Weird. But so good.”

“Jim, we can’t fuck here, not now,” she protested, yet turning to the wall and bending over cooperatively. For the first time I was face to face with her very wet pussy and got my first look at her light brown asshole.