val steele

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.

“Let me rest a minute. Put some more oil on that thing.” I poured the olive oil in the crack of her ass and watched it run down to where my dick was penetrating Carol’s asshole. I massaged it around my shaft. For the next ten years, I got a huge boner every time I cooked with olive oil. I started sliding back and forth and inch or so, working some of the oil into her anal canal. My cock began to slide easier.

I spent that weekend feeling increasingly more guilty. What had I done? Pussy was one thing, but sticking my dick in her ass? Sticking my tongue in her ass? Gross and probably illegal. No cell phones or email, so I couldn’t get in touch with Carol and find out she was okay or have her talk me off the ledge. I was afraid she would realize the next day what I had done and call the police. I went to school on Monday thinking they were going to haul me into the principal’s office or just take me away.