dandy world poppy

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.

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.

“Ahhhhhh!” we exclaimed in unison. Carol locked her legs on the side of my neck and held me closer. “Don’t move, Jim. Leave it all the way in. Shit you feel good…” I did as I was told, concentrating on not cumming. But her pussy made my dick feel better than it had ever felt before. I felt something near my cock and opened my eyes to see Carol, back arched, eyes closed, rubbing her clit. “Fuck me now…I’m going to cum…cum with me Jim…fuck me.” I moved my hips and started slowly sliding in and out of her pussy. But it felt too good.