Howard Banning - The tortured teacher

She had only walked about a block from the parking lot when she heard the sounds of running feet slapping against the lot's pavement, obviously, Pam and Gary getting into the van she had seen parked in the lot. Great, she thought sarcastically, that's all I need – to run into Pam and Gary once more. And with my luck, it's almost a sure thing it's going to happen.

She was right. In a few moments after the motor had been gunned up and the van had gone screeching out of the lot, she could hear it tearing down the street and headed toward her. She tried to ignore it, but to no effect.

The van screeched to a stop right next to her and Pam leaned out the window. "You sure are horny," she said. "Why don't you come in here and we'll party. We can tell you all about what you saw us doing."

Nothing had worked. Linda had denied up and down that she had been on the football field, but Pam had pointed out that her shoes were wet and looked like they had some fresh grass stains on them. Linda had asked, "What kind of a pervert do you think I am?" Pam said she wasn't a pervert, just someone who got off on watching other people. "And there's nothing wrong with that," she had said.

Linda had tried to ignore her, but then she burst out crying about getting raped. Pam and Gary were visibly taken aback and began to apologize profusely. "It's just a little game, at least that's what I thought," Pam had said. "They just go up and grab someone's nipples, one to each side at the same time. That's really horrible what they did if you're not making it up, Mrs. White."

And now she was getting a ride home in Gary's van, which was heavily carpeted in the back where she sat. She just couldn't see the point in walking home at this juncture for half an hour when she could be there in five minutes. And she was sure that Pam had not actually instructed Barry and Stuart to rape her. She was falling asleep from almost the moment she sat down in the van.

She thanked them both and they thanked her for being forgiving and letting them give her a ride home. "Let's let all this be water under the bridge, OK?" Pam had asked. "I think you're a classy kind of person, and I'm really sorry that what I did made you feel bad."

She had excused Pam and meant it too. It hadn't been her fault. And she was drifting off to sleep when Gary stopped the van abruptly in front of her house. "My God!" he'd exclaimed. "I don't believe it!"

She looked at the house and didn't have it make any particular impression on her one way or another. "What's going on, Gary?" she asked.

"My God," he exclaimed again. "Don't you realize who that silver Cadillac belongs to?"

"No," she replied.

"Whoa," said Pam. "I can't believe this. That's Jack O'Neill's car, that letch. He's always trying to feel me up. It really turns my stomach."

"Yeah, well, what in hell is he doing at your house at almost three in the morning, Mrs. White? Not that it's any of my business of course…" said Gary, then he stopped as he saw the look of horror on Linda's face.

Now she giggled just a bit, sort of what one might hear from someone in an insane asylum who'd just bitten the head off a frog. It was a self-mocking laugh, full of bitterness. She smiled as sweetly as she could and then got out of the van. She said to Gary in a very calm voice, "Just wait here a second, Gary. This won't take long."

And it didn't. What she found really came as no surprise, at least down in her heart of hearts. She stopped about 10 feet in front of the living room window and knew immediately what those barely lit shapes were.

As best as she could make out, Rosemary was on the bottom, writhing about like a snake in heat. Her legs were split out so far that they almost formed a straight line, the better to receive the absolute maximum from Steve, who was pumping madly into her like a mechanical bucking bronco, slamming his steely cock meat into her brutally and eliciting a howl of pure pleasure from Rosemary each time. Even though she only looked a few seconds, Linda was amazed, just from an observer's standpoint, at how much noise Rosemary could make while giving Jack O'Neill's throbbing thickness a thorough licking and sucking, like a hungry babe trying to eat a drippy ice cone.

"Fuck me, baby!!!" Rosemary ordered Steve. "Fuck me until the blood runs out my ears. Fuck me hard. Give it to me. Prove to me that you're a man!" And now she began moaning in a high-pitched whine that sounded very much like a cat ready to scratch out someone's eyeballs.

Steve's eyes were clenched tightly shut and his whole body was lathered in heat from the exertion as he pumped as if to drive Rosemary's sopping, crying cunt all the way through her body and up into her throat. And Jack O'Neill kept a look of serenity on his face as if he had been in this situation countless times, as if this were his natural state, rather than being in a coat and tie in the principal's office at Marley High School. He barely moved even though his wife was moving her mouth all over his hunk of steel and gurgling like a person about to die right there.

Linda walked back to the van slowly. Well, what now? Somehow, she just couldn't handle the idea of busting in on the gleesome threesome, especially since all they'd do would be to force her to do something again. She'd had enough of being forced to do things, she knew for sure. What she needed now was a little time to think.

"You OK, baby," asked Pam as Linda got into the van. Linda shock her head slowly, but said nothing. Pam climbed into the back and sat down next to her, then put her arm around her. It was obvious to both the teen-agers what Linda had seen at the living room window.

"You poor thing," Pam said softly, "I'm really sorry," said Gary quickly. "Why don't you come over to my place and we'll have something to eat?"

Linda nodded her head miserably. She felt like her whole world was coming apart. Was she the only one left who wasn't so absolutely sex-crazed that it was the only thing in life that seemed to matter? All she'd really wanted was just to go to sleep and forget everything for awhile and now she'd been denied even that.

"I just want to get some sleep," she told Pam and Gary, as the van moved away from her house.

"Maybe you can just take me to a motel somewhere, if that's not too much trouble. Is that OK?"

"Sure," said Gary. "But you'd be able to get to sleep much faster if you just crash on my couch for awhile. It'll take us a good half hour to get to any motel from hers and you might not even find one open this time of night. You can just crash and I'll take you home whenever you want. It's no hassle for me."

"Oh, that's too much trouble," Linda said, "it's more trouble for me, actually, if you go to a motel. Don't worry – my folks aren't home."

Pam squeezed her gently on the shoulder and said, "Come on, Linda. Well take good care of you. I promise not to do anything weird."

Linda nodded her head and quietly felt asleep in Pam's arms. She awoke as Gary stopped the car and felt oddly relaxed without realizing that her face was being cradled across Pam's melonous breasts. In the instant before she moved her head away, she could feel Pam's nipples, hard as rocks, pressing against her cheeks. Yet she was not grossed out or even alarmed. Pam had been very open to her about being attracted to her sexually, yet she hadn't made any move in that direction since Linda had rebuffed her at the football game.

Gary served them all a beer when they got inside and the uniqueness of the situation made it impossible for her to feel sleepy. Linda and Pam began talking very frankly to each other about how difficult things could be for women, with Pam saying.

"You know, sometimes I wish that my breasts weren't as big as they are. I get hassled so much. And I got raped a few years ago and I just have a funny feeling that it never would have happened if I had just sort of been ordinary looking."