freed justine

“Uh…sure…Carol.” At that point I wasn’t thinking much of anything, concentrating as her slippery, soapy hand slid along my shaft and she pulled on the skin on my ball sack. Mrs. B.—Carol—got on her knees and came face-to-face with my throbbing dick, pink from the steamy shower. I thought she was going to blow me, but she had another surprise for me.

This was many years ago, back when teachers could lay an encouraging hand on a student’s shoulder without being labeled a sex offender. Teachers could sit close by a student to help them with a hard concept, and no one thought anything of it. The boys flirted back with Mrs. B. and the girls got valuable lessons in how to attract boys’ attention and drive them crazy. It was fun. And, Mrs. B was married with a couple of young kids, not that it mattered. It was all just innocent fun.

“Good girl, sissy! I knew you had it in you! And now, you're about to really have it in you!” She laughed at her own joke, and started to push. True to her word, at least she went slow. I gasped and moaned, feeling the huge, hot weight of her gradually stretching me open, relentlessly forcing her way inside. She grabbed hold of me, one arm wrapping tightly around my leg, her other reaching around to grasp my dick. She wasn't stroking me anymore, not intentionally, but as she began slowly thrusting in and out of my ass, working her way deeper, the effect was the same. It took her maybe five minutes or so to finish getting all the way in, pressing hard against my ass, grinding to make sure I was feeling every last inch she had to give.