bruna luccas

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.

Her hands shot up above her head, one to cover her mouth, while the other reached up to the ceiling to brace herself. Sarah’s body rocked with the most powerful orgasm she ever had. Every part of her trembled, shaking the bed as her toes curled in, but her hand on the ceiling kept her steady. Clapping her hand over her mouth she was barely able to suppress a long moan that came directly from her core. Her eyes were glued to her father watching his breath and listening to his snoring. Finally, her rolling orgasm came to an end, her father letting out a loud snore as he exhaled.

Sarah’s hand rested on her dad’s stomach, firm with muscle but covered with a bit of body fat he couldn’t help with given his busy days. She slid her hand up and down, enjoying the feeling of his hair rubbing against her skin. Wriggling her face even closer she brought her head right up to his armpit, her nose a few inches away from the hair and sniffed. It was a bit tarter than his usual body odour from the sweat, but it was also a lot stronger which was what she really enjoyed. She dared to move her face even closer, until she was almost touching it and breathed deeply. Sarah was well on her way to forgetting that nasty dream as she inhaled her father’s scent, but on her next breath his hairs trembled and tickled her nose, causing her to pull back a bit. She didn’t want to risk sneezing and waking up her dad. He needed the sleep.