johnny's dad sing

She moved to the base of the table, between my thighs, taking off her top. God... even knowing what was about to happen, I couldn't help but stare! Her tits were phenomenal... obviously fake, of course, but I couldn't even see her scars! She grabbed a bottle of lube from below my line of sight, quickly slathering her cock, roughly shoving two fingers up my ass, making me grunt at the sudden pain as she moved them around a bit to get me ready, then pulling them out and notching herself into place.

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.

It was a warm night tonight as the night before. They barely needed the sheets with no air conditioning running. She grabbed the loose end of the sheet resting above her father’s hand and slowly pulled it back. It was almost like a strip tease. His pecks, chest and stomach all came into view, very nice to see but she’d already had her fill of them this morning. Finally, the sheet pulled back to reveal his waist, his short patch of curly pubic hair coming into view. She slowed herself down, carefully pulling the sheet over his bulge and not daring to look until she dropped the sheet down on his thighs.