maria arzola

“AAAAHHH…fuck yeah! Keep doing that! Please Jim, keep eating my ass like that!” I grabbed her hips and pulled her towards me. My tongue slid so far inside her my lips surrounded her anal opening. I remember thinking that her ass didn’t taste bad at all. I started plunging my tongue in and out of her asshole. Carol was loving it. “OHHHH…OHHH…OHHHMYGODDDD!” She came again almost instantly, her sphincter squeezing my tongue as she came. I could feel her rapid pulse on my tongue as she squeezed.

I don’t remember a lot about the next couple of days. I couldn’t shake the image of Mrs. B. on her knees gazing up at me while my cock pulsed a geyser of cum into her mouth. Not that I wanted to shake the image. I do remember beating my cock like it owed me money for days after the closet incidence.

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.