lacy larson

She walked up to the mirror and opened her phones camera and hit record. In the bathroom mirror she looked like quite a mess, no make up on her face but a shiny layer of cum and drool covered her mouth and chin. She turned her face left and right getting a good look and seeing that she had truly plastered her lower jaw. Next, she opened mouth and angled her chin down. Sitting in her open mouth was a pool of thick white cum. Her father’s cum. The thought made her squeeze her legs in ecstasy.

“And do you know the best part?” she asked, reaching down to slowly stroke my dick again, giving me another, slower lick. “The best part is, all you ever had to do was ask! I had such an enormous crush on you, back in high school! I'd have sucked you off gladly, any time you wanted! I'd have done so much more than that... I'd have done my makeup, and dressed up like a girl for you! I wasn't very good at it, yet, but I'd have done it for you, if you'd wanted me to. I'd even have given you my cherry, let you be the first one to fuck me in my ass—anything you wanted, I'd have done it, if only you'd asked! But you never did that, never gave me the choice. You and your friends decided to force me, instead. So now, you don't get a choice! You get that, Brianna? You belong to me, now, just how I used to belong to you! So, I'm going to go upstairs now; it wouldn't be safe for me to let you drive yet anyways, not until the drugs I gave you work their way fully out of your system. I'm going upstairs, and you can just stay down here and think about it. Think about how this is all happening to you just because you never had the courage and courtesy to ask! I'll be back in maybe an hour or so, once I'm ready to go again!” She paused, staring deeply into my eyes, then suddenly kissed me, deep and passionate, full on the lips! I was still trying to recover from my shock as she was walking out the door, closing it behind her.

Still, she made me nuts. When the class would be working on an in-class assignment, she would float around the room, answering questions and offering advice. She always paused at my desk, squeezed my shoulder or rubbing it a little and ask if I needed help. I thought she kept touching me longer than she did with the other kids, massaging my shoulder or sliding her hand down to the middle of my hunched over back. I would break out in a sweat whenever she touched me, and my cock, which was in the teenage stage of always being semi hard, would become rigid and strain against the fabric of my underwear and pants.