David Alexander - Bert

Julia's eyes were screwed shut as she bounced up and down on Bert's length. She reached down and fingered her own clit to give herself added stimulation in her fucking. Bert gulped at the pressure on his shaft, then decided to go for broke. Julia would keep this up all day or until she wore him out.

Or wore his dick off!

As she rocketed up squirting his cock from her body with peristaltic action of her cuntal muscles, Bert lay quiescent. As Julia began her plummeting descent, Bert heaved his hips upward, arching his back. They smashed together at the gentials. Both gasped in reaction to the powerful interaction.

As Bert continued his upward thrusts, he tried to reach Julia's tits but was unable to do so. The woman had leaned slighly backwards removing her milky white breasts from his reach and bending his cock away from its normal angle of response. Julia placed her hands on the floor as she leaned back. Bert instintively brought his knees up and planted his feet firmly on the floor. In this position, Julia could rest against his upper thighs.

With his cock bent to an angle of forty-five degrees from the floor and still firmly inside Julia's cunt, Bert felt as if he were being ripped asunder at the groin.

Yet it was sweet torture. His teacher rubbed her back up and down his legs, luxuriating in the hairy feel against her tingling spine as well as the throbbing and jerking cock buried between her legs. Julia came again, another in a seemingly endless string of orgasms.

But this time, Bert couldn't restrain himself. The acute angle his cock was pulled into, the feel of Julia's smooth back against his legs, her twin demiglobes of companulate assflesh pressing tightly into his crotch, the intense constriction along his length, the very humid hotness of his cock's berth all conspired against the boy.

He came. He came with the explosion of a thousand A-bombs. His mind swirled and churned and was buried under tons of sensations as his cock squirted and blew forth his load. Once expended, Bert's triphammering heart took several minutes to quiet.

Bert watched in fascination as Julia experienced two more orgasms in quick succession. He had never seen a woman who could get off so many times in such rapid fashion. The young man wondered if this was normal or if his math teacher was some sort of sex freak. It hardly mattered. Bert just wished that, if Julia Munoz was something unusual, he could find others like her. It might wear him out, but it was an exciting and incredibly sexy way to wear out his organ!

Julia finally came out of her sexual daze and looked down at Bert, her jet eyes filled with warmth and ill-suppressed lust. She said, "Thank you, Bert, I don't think you really needed all that much tutoring."

Barbara quickly chimed in, "He sure didn't! And I'm mad at you, Julia! You pulled a ringer on me!"

Julia slipped off Bert's hips and languorously stretched out on the carpet like a contented feline. "What do you mean?"

"Hell, he's no high school kid. He must be a ninety-year old Cassanova who's kept on looking like he's sixteen by screwing every available chick from here to Paris and back."

Bert chuckled. He loved listening to these gorgeous women saying things like that about him. The teenager felt more and more like the big time stud. In reply, he said, "I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you, Barbara." He paused a moment for empahsis, then continued, "I'm missed one chick in London. It was in Chelsea back in '03. She managed to elude me somewhere around Trafalgar and I…"

He was cut off when Barbara tossed a convient pillow off the sofa over his face.

"Liar! But I don't care. When'll you be ready for a rematch?"

Bert shifted the pillow to a more confortable position under his head. When would he be ready again? He glanced furtively at his depleted organ. He wasn't sure if it would ever be ready again, not after the incredible fuckings Julia had demanded. And his nervous energy reserves were used up, too. It wasn't easy watching a chick get off a dozen – or more? – times while your dick was coursing up and down inside her. And eating another out at the same time…

Bert answered, "Not for at least ten minutes or so…"

He surprised both himself and the two roommates. It was closer to thirty than ten, but it still surprised them all. Pleasantly.

Bert and Cruncher were sitting in the cafeteria trying vainly to digest the rotten fare that had been passed off as food that day. Cruncher had a way with words, could be excruciatingly descriptive when the mood moved him. Looking at the creamed corn puddled on his tray, he had grumbled "Dog vomit" and pretty well killed anyone else's enjoyment of the food, if there had been anyone else at the table with an iron stomach who could have eaten and enjoyed such a poor meal. When he had almost finished his meal, leaving the creamed corn, Cruncher loudly proclaimed, "This is the only goddamn place I know where they buy army-surplus canned leftovers.

Bert hadn't been able to eat much, a combination of lack of appetite and no great desire to get sick on the food.

He said, "Hey, Crunch, could we talk for a couple of minutes? In private?"

"Sure, kid. Always glad to help you out."

The giant shoved his chair back, and Bert trailed after his letterjacket clad friend. They went outside and sat down on the ridiculous fountain made from four thousand beer cans and coat hangers that the previous year's senior class had given the school.

"What can I do for you?"

"It's about Carole." Bert took a deep breath and continued before he lost his courage. "I'm still hung up on that chick. I've found some really dynamite foxes, but it's Carole that I want. It's an obsession. I just can't kick it."

Cruncher looked at his friend, edged away slightly as if he were afraid Bert would do him bodily harm and said, "I got a confession Bert. I told you all that about Carole because I was trying to get in her pants. You know? I didn't want you cutting in on my territory." He looked repentant.

Bert only looked stunned. "Cut in on your territory? Me? The zero in the equation when it comes to girls?"

Cruncher shook his head. "Zero, my ass! Alana keeps dropping hints all over the place about what you two did in the darkroom, and I'm not blind. You've got something BIG going with Miss Munoz. No chick looks at a guy like she looks at you without something heavy going on. With Alana on the hook and Miss Munoz chasing after your tender young bod, why worry about Carole? Hell, take the best you can get and forget about Miss Iceberg."

"I'm not putting you on. This is the gospel truth. I did everything I could think of, and I couldn't get to first base with her. She's even dumped Tony. I don't know what kind of trip she's on. Seems absolutely frigid. Won't put out for anybody, makes the guys come begging to her. And then she only picks the suckers with lots of bread or tons of prestige."

"And…?" Bert was curious to see what Cruncher's appraisal of the girl was. He had noticed the same thing. Carole would go after someone with lots of prestige or money – or both – then drop them suddenly without any warning. And, although quite a few had bragged about actually fucking her, there was a ring of bravado and maschismo to the tales that didn't ring true.

"To tell you the truth, Bert, she's a cock teaser. She gets her jollies stringing a guy along, getting him hot and primed, then pulls the rug from under him. She'll walk off, leaving the sap with a hard-on and laughing at how easy it was to humiliate him."

Crunch shrugged his massive shoulders. "My advice, Bert. Leave her alone. She didn't think a football jock was worth her trouble – I doubt she'd ever consider a high school newspaper photographer would be worth the trouble. And even if she did go out with you, it would be heartbreak hotel time. You know what I mean?"