lihua apothecary diaries

“Oh, God!” I gasped, her thick, pounding cock finally pushing me past the edge, jet after jet of hot, sticky cum flying up with so much force it splattered my face and upper chest! Oh, fuck, that felt so good! That amazing, powerful prostate orgasm, so, so much longer and more powerful than anything I could achieve with my dick alone!

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.

As quietly as she could she made her way up to the bedside and slowly sat on the bed as it took her weight. Once she was sure her dad was still deep in his sleep, she wriggled under the sheet until she was next him. As usual he was arranged like a star fish with his arms and legs out to either side. To accommodate him she curled into a ball and put herself right by his side with his arm under her head like a pillow. Like most dads she’d heard about hers slept naked, but although all the other girls who mentioned this seemed grossed out, she didn’t mind. To be fair a lot of the of the other girl’s dads weren’t as handsome as hers, or in as good shape. A few years ago, she had to put up with a few friends who couldn’t stop gushing about her dad when they came over and saw him for the first time. Although she saw all the good features about him, to her he was always just her dad. How could she think about him that way?