lilies yoga

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.

I left her there, naked and bleeding, and the next time I saw her, she was at the base of the west tower, having jumped to her death. Galvin told me not to concern myself with her, that she was simply a broken toy, and that I would find another. But I knew different. She wasn’t a broken toy, and though she made her choice, it wasn’t suicide; it was murder. I killed her. I hurt her, I violated her, and made her life so painful that I might as well have pushed her off that tower myself. I knew it, but I didn’t want to accept it.

“Oh, God...” she moaned, her eyes wide and fearful, but she didn't try to stop me as I climbed up and lowered myself into place against her mouth. And this time, since she had her hands free, I even got to enjoy her clutching at my butt! Daddy snuggled into place behind me just like last time, kissing my neck and playing with my titties. He'd had enough time to get hard again now, and he was rubbing pleasantly along the cleft of my ass. We'd definitely have to do something about that soon... but not just yet, not until Mommy was done making me cum again, first!