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She moaned louder, squeezing my hand and nodding her head. Daddy was clearly enjoying himself too as I caught him in the corner of my eye, grinning wickedly and slowly stroking his still mostly-flaccid cock as he watched the show. Mom was slower than I normally was, either because I didn't really know what she liked yet, playing with her clitty, or just because she was still so conflicted about this whole thing, and her doubt was getting in her way. She did still get there though, gasping and trembling, only maybe ten seconds or so before Brucie started cumming as well. She was still shaking through the aftershocks when her eyes suddenly went wide again.

I started gently rolling my hips, proving my words. She was still stubbornly refusing, mouth tightly closed as I painted her face with my cream. But as Daddy snuggled up behind me and started playing with my titties again, staring encouragingly down into her eyes over my shoulder, she finally started playing ball. She was still tentative, just a tiny, testing little lick of her tongue darting out between her lips, but I rewarded her with a happy little moan and stopped grinding myself on her face. The tongue came out again, and again, and the more I responded to her the more confident she became. I still wasn't ready to let her out of her restraints yet, even once she started eating me for real, but I was definitely enjoying myself, clenching my muscles to try to squeeze out as much of Daddy's cum as I could. That was the one and only problem with Daddy having such a big cock; he always deposited it way far up in there, and trying to get it out again was just about impossible before it was ready to leak out on its own! Still I was doing what I could, and Mommy seemed like she had finally gotten out of her own way enough that she was able to enjoy the taste. She wasn't half bad at it, either. Not as good as Daddy was, judging from the few times he'd chosen to use his mouth on me rather than his cock. But still, not bad, and I was gradually drawing closer to the edge. It hit me more gently than the ones Daddy had given me, but it was no less enjoyable, making me gasp and twitch as I relaxed back against his chest.

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.