charlie b hustle

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.

“What?” she gasped. “What are you talking about? You both just let me out of these ropes right this instant!”

With her head now closer she realised what she had inadvertently been getting dangerously closer to. Right beneath his pubic hair her father’s penis lay across his thigh, the business end pointing right in her direction. Sarah had seen a few penises when looking at porn and even her own father’s penis when she was a little girl in the showers at the pool, but seeing it now, so close and feeling the way she did took her breath away. Though smaller than in any of the pornos it was no slouch in thickness department, and it seemed to be barely hard at the moment. And unlike any of the shaved ones she saw in porn it was covered in a bush of pubic hair. Something about it made it seem so real! Which Sarah realised was a stupid thought. Of course it was real. It was her father’s real penis and balls right in front of her face. What was she expecting to find?