exoprimal vigilant

I blushed. Missy Yeager was this cute cheerleader that everyone wanted to fuck, but she was just a tease. She would get you all hot, rubbing your cock through your pants and talking shit, then send you home. All the guys complained about her. I learned years later that she spent high school blowing the wrestling coach almost daily. Anyway…“No! I want to fuck you again. I just can’t believe you mean it.”

One day she definitely knew the effect she had on me, even if she hadn’t before. I was writing an essay on The Grapes of Wrath and asked Mrs. B when she came by if a word was spelled correctly. She leaned over, her silky red hair brushing against my cheek and her breast lay against my left shoulder. My cock stiffened instantly—and uncomfortably. Without thinking, I reflexively reached down and maneuvered my throbbing dick into a more comfortable position. It did create a sizable tent pole in my pants that I tried to push down and hide, which only drew attention to my crotch. Mrs. B blushed noticeably, stood up while stifling a laugh and muttered an apology.

“Unnnnh!” I moaned happily. It went in much easier than it had the first time, after several days of near-constant practice, but it was still really a stretch for my poor, tiny, tight little teenage pussy! I tried to maintain eye contact with Mom as it was happening, but I just couldn't help them fluttering closed. I pushed myself back a bit, getting myself to the height I knew Daddy liked best and making my cute little ass really pop for him, then leaned down to rest my head between Mom's big, soft D-cup titties.“Babe?” Mom asked tremulously, her voice weak and thready.