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“Okay,” she blushed, moving to do as I'd asked, Daddy sidling tightly up behind her. It pretty much immediately turned into a three-way makeout session, instead, which was even better. Before long I stopped even trying to keep track of whose hands were where, as they both took turns playing with my titties and ass. Daddy's cock was otherwise occupied, of course, and since he seemed to be so preoccupied playing with me it meant I got to have Mom pretty much all to myself. God, her tits were incredible! So huge, and heavy, and soft! I liked my perky little firm ones too, but hers were just so different compared to mine, it was so much fun to explore and play! Daddy finally came in her, making her squeal and twitch in our arms, but when I tried to slide down the bed to clean her up she stopped me, just holding me close to cuddle instead. That was okay, too.

“Better than you, feeding on people’s hatred and coming here purely out of spite. I’m trying to accomplish something, to change things. You just want to enrage people and bask in their disdain.”

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.