olivia fear and hunger

“Waddya think?” Carol said, putting aside her tools and returning her attention to playing with my cock. She wrapped her lips around the head of my cock and swirled her tongue around it. Her other hand tugged at my balls. The fresh shave made it that much more sensitive. My dick did look bigger. And thicker for some reason. Carol slowly swallowed my cock until it hit the back of her throat. She gagged slightly, then pulled her head off.

“I want to make you cum like you made me cum. Please let me.” She took my hand, and I thought she was going to pull my hand out of her panties. Instead, she slid her hand down my fingers and touched the finger in her pussy. Gently she guided the tip of my finger to her clit and used my finger to rub a circle around her button of flesh.

After my boner mishap, either she was getting more daring, or my imagination was running wilder. One day Mrs. B. was wearing one of her short short skirts, no stockings, just muscular shapely legs. She couldn’t help but notice me watching her move around the room. She stopped at the desk of the student in front of me and bent at the waist to look at her paper. When she slid her hands between her thighs and bent a little farther, her skirt raised exposing her panties. They were red. And lacey. I thought she gave me a sidewards glance to see if I noticed. Maybe not. It really didn’t matter, though. As soon as I glimpsed those skimpy panties, I came in my pants. Right then. In class. I’m not proud, but I was only 15, I could cum at a good card trick. I had it bad.