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“God, I can’t believe I am doing this. I never thought in a million years I would be asking this.” This last remark was to herself. Stroking my dick with one hand and playing with my balls with the other, she looked me in the eyes again. I remember in that moment thinking what lovely green eyes she had.“I want you to fuck me in the ass. Will you fuck my ass…please?”

One day she definitely knew the effect she had on me, even if she hadn’t before. I was writing an essay on The Grapes of Wrath and asked Mrs. B when she came by if a word was spelled correctly. She leaned over, her silky red hair brushing against my cheek and her breast lay against my left shoulder. My cock stiffened instantly—and uncomfortably. Without thinking, I reflexively reached down and maneuvered my throbbing dick into a more comfortable position. It did create a sizable tent pole in my pants that I tried to push down and hide, which only drew attention to my crotch. Mrs. B blushed noticeably, stood up while stifling a laugh and muttered an apology.

“What are you doing? We can’t! We don’t have time!” I ignored her and pushed her panties over her hips. Despite her protests, Carol kicked off her wet panties as they dropped to the floor and spread her legs, bending forward. “Are you crazy?” she whispered. “Someone is going…oh!” Carol gasped as my cock thrusted deep inside her. “Really Jim we can’t…” Yet her hips gently fucked my dick, sliding her pussy along my shaft. I pinned her tighter against the mirror. I held her arms over her head as I violently slammed my cock into her pussy.