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I don’t remember a lot about the next couple of days. I couldn’t shake the image of Mrs. B. on her knees gazing up at me while my cock pulsed a geyser of cum into her mouth. Not that I wanted to shake the image. I do remember beating my cock like it owed me money for days after the closet incidence.

My cock is just under 7” but pretty thick, with a slight upward bend. Still watching my face, Mrs. B. cupped my balls in her hand and wrapped her lips around my trembling dick. I watched the head of my cock disappear into her mouth. Her mouth was warm and wet, and she rubbed her tongue along the base of the head. I’d like to say at this point I grabbed her hair and fucked her mouth for half an hour, but I was a horny kid. When her tongue touched the base of my cock, a thick stream of semen jetted into her mouth. I heard her swallow my cum, and I learned that a woman swallowing my load is about the sexiest sound around. Mrs. B. gulped down the next stream and the next as my youthful balls filled her mouth over and over.

That Saturday passed like a blur as Sarah did her social duties with her friends, but in the back of her mind her guilt was steadily building. What she had done last night was not okay. But it was a moment of weakness, a mistake of her youth, so with one and done there wouldn’t be a problem, right? Her night’s rest seemed to disagree. Six times she woke that night, each time with the desire to visit her father again, but she managed to persevere. She had to watch her video from last night a few times before her lust could be controlled, but she got through the night, minus quite a few hours of sleep as a cost.