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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.

“You should shower, big boy. I can’t take you home all sweaty. I’ll make us some drinks—vodka?”“Uh, sure.” Those were the days…

Sarah made sure to get as much as she could on camera, having a bit of fun with it while she had the opportunity. She stuck her finger in it and pulled it out seeing the strand of liquid stretch out and snap over her lips. She bounced up and down and watched it jiggle about in her mouth. She pushed it around her mouth with her tongue, left and right, up and down and cupped her tongue so that pooled inside it. Finally, with nothing else left to mind, Sarah double checked the camera was recording cleanly and got a good angle. She tilted her head back making sure her mouth stayed in frame, then closed her mouth and swallowed. The thick puddle of cum slipped to the back of her mouth and then fell down her throat. She felt the heat of it slide down her neck, into her chest and then into her stomach. Opening her eyes, she opened her mouth and showed off to the camera the clean mouth and the confirmation she just swallowed a massive load.