bill beastars

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.

Wow the whole commentary down here about aesthetics vs. realism took me right out of it. 0/10 orgasm, didn't even noticing I was coming til it was over.I need to be put in my place like that. I'm a worthless little cuntboy whore.

“Well... if you're really sure,” I agreed, too excited about the prospect of getting the middle to fight her any more than that. We snuggled tightly into place, Daddy at my back with his cock resting along my ass, Mom squished in tight along my front, foreheads together, her lips barely an inch from mine. I couldn't help but giggle at the way her breasts were basically engulfing mine and making them disappear, but when she looked at me questioningly I just kissed her again rather than answer why. I laid back onto Daddy's biceps, squirming happily, enjoying the way her legs were so sexily intertwined with my own. As I drifted gradually off to sleep, one last thought made me smile; I could hardly wait to get on my computer tomorrow and write down everything that had happened, so everybody following my story online would know how it went!