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“Here. Like that. You’ll make me cum.” She withdrew her hand and began to paw at my belt buckle. She opened my pants roughly and plunged her hands through the waistband of my underwear, grasping my ball sack with one hand, wrapping the fingers of her other hand around my shaft, stroking me hard. If I hadn’t already jacked off twice that day, I would have cum right there. Mrs. B. was staring me in the face, looking stern, but her face was reddening and her breathing more rapid with her oncoming orgasm.

She squeezed the base of his cock even harder and redoubled her efforts, until a second later she felt his pulse raise to a crescendo, his cock pulsating in her hand. For a moment she thought nothing was else would happen, until the next pulse brought a hot shot of cum into the back of her throat. She pulled back a bit, until only the head of his cock was still in the vacuum seal of her lips. It spasmed again and even more hot sperm fired into her mouth, this time basting her tongue and her cheek. It jerked another time and then another and even more filled her mouth. It pulsated again a few more time, but with her tongue she could feel only a bit more dribble out the end of his cock.

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.