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“Fight me seriously!” Hearing the voice again, Noah realized it was a woman.“Very well, I’ll fight you. But if you want me to be serious, you have to earn 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.