tarzan in the jungle

“And do you know the best part?” she asked, reaching down to slowly stroke my dick again, giving me another, slower lick. “The best part is, all you ever had to do was ask! I had such an enormous crush on you, back in high school! I'd have sucked you off gladly, any time you wanted! I'd have done so much more than that... I'd have done my makeup, and dressed up like a girl for you! I wasn't very good at it, yet, but I'd have done it for you, if you'd wanted me to. I'd even have given you my cherry, let you be the first one to fuck me in my ass—anything you wanted, I'd have done it, if only you'd asked! But you never did that, never gave me the choice. You and your friends decided to force me, instead. So now, you don't get a choice! You get that, Brianna? You belong to me, now, just how I used to belong to you! So, I'm going to go upstairs now; it wouldn't be safe for me to let you drive yet anyways, not until the drugs I gave you work their way fully out of your system. I'm going upstairs, and you can just stay down here and think about it. Think about how this is all happening to you just because you never had the courage and courtesy to ask! I'll be back in maybe an hour or so, once I'm ready to go again!” She paused, staring deeply into my eyes, then suddenly kissed me, deep and passionate, full on the lips! I was still trying to recover from my shock as she was walking out the door, closing it behind her.

The school year was coming to an end and I was busying myself with spring sports. I was doing track and field, distance events like the 1,500-meter run. I also tried my hand at pole vaulting, which did not go well. I had to quit vaulting before I really hurt myself. One particularly grueling Friday at practice, I noticed Mrs. B. in the bleachers watching. Faculty often wandered out to watch teams practice or play, but Mrs. B was rarely among them. She lingered when the practice was over, so I went over to say hi. She seemed genuinely happy to see me, even though she had been quite aloof in class or in the hallway.

“Uh, okay…sure.” I said with little conviction. Carol looked around the island, finally spying what she wanted. She leaned over and grabbed a bottle of olive oil.