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Fireworks were shooting off in her head now and her womanly instincts were in auto pilot now, and it didn’t seem to matter that her father was the target. Her right hand came up to his cock and pulled it towards her, making it easier on her neck to reach. Her left hand came up from the bed and rested on his waist, a much firmer purchase to steady herself. She spread her legs wider on the bed, her panties dripping with her own secretions smeared on her father’s knee.

Viktor then walked past them with a confident smirk. He was Noah’s next target. What concerned him, though, was that Reiss was nowhere to be found. He was down in the hypogeum during the intermission. Was he using the lavatory? Viktor was standing by the ref, waiting for his opponent to show. If Reiss didn’t show up, he would win by default. The crowds quickly started to murmur in confusion, wondering what the hold-up was. Eventually, the ref had to act.“Since Reiss has not appeared for his fight, he is declared—”

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.