buff dazai figure

Still, she made me nuts. When the class would be working on an in-class assignment, she would float around the room, answering questions and offering advice. She always paused at my desk, squeezed my shoulder or rubbing it a little and ask if I needed help. I thought she kept touching me longer than she did with the other kids, massaging my shoulder or sliding her hand down to the middle of my hunched over back. I would break out in a sweat whenever she touched me, and my cock, which was in the teenage stage of always being semi hard, would become rigid and strain against the fabric of my underwear and pants.

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.

“Show me what you’ve learned then!” With that, she ground her wet pussy into my face. I tongue-fucked her warm soft hole while massaging her clit with my thumb and finger. My nose was practically poking her asshole. It made me think of another section of Dad’s book, but I knew that would be too far. I was plunging her pussy with my tongue, and Mrs. B. was thrusting her hips, pushing herself back onto my tongue. Suddenly her head flew back and her back arched as she came hard in my mouth. Her long red hair tickled my forehead. “Yeeeessss! Fuck…Fuck…Jim…Fuck…” I could feel the goosebumps rise on her skin under my hands as her body trembled with delight.