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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.

He couldn't understand me, of course, but he couldn't have cared less; he knew what to do. I gasped loudly as I felt his knot sliding inside, swelling immediately once it was in me, sealing us tight. He was thrusting his hips even faster now, secure in the knowledge that he couldn't come out, taking his prize just as hard and fast as he could. I moaned happily, but I didn't let myself close my eyes. I stared up into the bed, and the look of absolute shock on Mom's face as she watched her supposedly innocent little baby girl getting doggie-fucked right in front of her, made me cum in about ten seconds flat!

“Good girl, sissy! I knew you had it in you! And now, you're about to really have it in you!” She laughed at her own joke, and started to push. True to her word, at least she went slow. I gasped and moaned, feeling the huge, hot weight of her gradually stretching me open, relentlessly forcing her way inside. She grabbed hold of me, one arm wrapping tightly around my leg, her other reaching around to grasp my dick. She wasn't stroking me anymore, not intentionally, but as she began slowly thrusting in and out of my ass, working her way deeper, the effect was the same. It took her maybe five minutes or so to finish getting all the way in, pressing hard against my ass, grinding to make sure I was feeling every last inch she had to give.