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“I'm glad,” I squeezed her in a hug, smiling happily. “Not that I'm not happy to take care of Brucie myself, whenever Daddy isn't already doing me, and I have the time—but it was so hot, watching him doing you, too, and then getting to eat your pussy after he was done!”

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.

“Shhh…” I shushed Carol. “Let me do this. I’ll stop if you tell me.” I pushed my finger in farther, knuckle deep. Carol didn’t say anything else. She even moved her hips a bit, gently fucking my finger with her asshole. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I withdrew my index finger and started to push two fingers into her relaxed opening. Two fingers of my other hand were still inside her pussy. I could see Carol with her eyes closed, her cheek against the cold granite, concentrating on the feeling.