hank howell wolf

I had the worst crush on Mrs. B. It was in her class that I learned that I have a fatal weakness for redheads. I loved to watch her move through the room. She wore skirts and dresses that were too short for female students, but no one complained. It’s just who she was. She had lovely legs, no reason not to let the world see them. When she wore pants (they were just recently allowed), they were skintight, revealing a cute tight little ass. Tops were also tight, often with some cleavage showing between her pretty B-cup breasts.

“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!

“You’re not ok, not even close,” said Noah.“It’s fine, the pain is receding.”“The pain’s disappearance doesn’t concern me as much as its arrival. What happened?”