the bad guys diane foxington

“Your tongue, mister. Lick my pussy.” Keeping the teacher satisfied was always one of my goals, so I laid flat between her legs, put her legs over my shoulders and began licking and sucking and pulling on her pussy. I sucked her soft clit into my mouth where my tongue could reach every spot. “Oh God…” Carol moaned quietly. “Yeah…fuck yeah. Her pussy juices were coating my face and wetting the comforter. She took my hands and placed them on her tits. Her nipples were rock hard. “Play with my boobs. Be rough. Pinch, pull, tw…OW!” I must have pulled too hard. “Ow…that hurt…it’s okay, don’t stop. Just a little easier.”

“Aww, sorry to hear that, baby,” Her dad replied, but she was barely paying attention. He’d started to rub up and down her back with his big warm hand and her stupid horny brain was getting excited again.

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.