Carl Burton - Sex teaching teacher

"Oh, yes," Susan replied, still not looking at Rusty.

"Man, I sure wish there'd been teachers like you when I was goin' to school," he said. "If there had, I never would have graduated."

Then you'd be the biggest dummy in the class! Susan thought of saying. But she managed only a slight smile and still didn't glance the man's way.

"Y'know," he persisted as the pickup crept along, Rusty deliberately drawing out the short trip, "you and me ought to get to know one another better."

Susan was tuning him out. He didn't interest her in the least. He was only a ride, as far as she was concerned, and the shorter the better.

Then suddenly he did something which changed the situation with the suddenness of a sunburst through gray clouds. He impertinently reached over and clasped Susan's thigh.

An electric jolt went through her. Her body had been begging for just such a contact as Rusty provided, and her nerves went on a spree. She gasped, her parted lips quivering as she stared at the man.

Rusty seemed surprised by her positive response. Surprise quickly turned to joyous anticipation.

Rusty took his hand away and jerked the pickup into a screeching turn.

"Wh-where are you going?" Susan panted.

"It's such a great day," Rusty said, his voice quivering tensely though he tried to sound cool, "you oughta have a little ride through the country."

"But I don't want a ride!" Susan protested. "I…"

Rusty's hand was on her thigh again, this time kneading, his long, strong fingers digging deep between her firm, tapering columns. Flashes of intense heat struck Susan where she lived. She felt her cuntal lips taking on blood, trying to spread. Slickness oozed between them. Her clit tingled.

She felt as if she were strangling. She was scarcely able to breathe, let alone to speak.

As the pickup rocketed along, quickly leaving the small town behind, Rusty flipped up the girl's flimsy skirt.

"Heyyy… wow!" he said as he ogled her stockings and garters and the marvelously enticing patches of naked skin above the tightly cinched stocking tops.

His hand wrapped itself around a bare thigh. He delighted in the warm smoothness of Susan's flesh. His snug-fitting Levi's became painfully constricting.

Susan was fighting for breath, her whole body throbbing. The strip of her panties which extended between her legs was sopped. She wanted to fling her legs apart.

She still didn't want Rusty. She didn't want any man. But she had to have something. Her defenses had toppled like a kid's wall of blocks.

Her lovely thighs yawned, and Rusty's hand skidded to her nylon-sheathed crotch. The pickup weaved crazily, drawing an angry honk from a car that barely managed to pass from the opposite direction. Susan's brain swirled as Rusty stroked her hot, wet cunt through her slippery panties.

"You wild bitch!" he exclaimed hoarsely. "God damn, you sure want it!"

Shame mixed with Susan's wild arousal but was quickly overwhelmed by her need. She hadn't had sex in months, though she had thought about it and dreamed about it and yearned to be released. Never mind that she had only thought and dreamed about young boys. There were times in a woman's life when a prick was a prick, and the lucky man who caught her at such a moment could be Toulouse-Lautrec or Frankenstein; it made little difference, he would get in.

The pickup bounced and screeched and sent back billows of dust as it careened down the sloping shoulder of the road into a grove of trees. It came to a stop where some large bushes shielded it from the highway above.

Susan's hot ass was jostled on the vinyl seat. She felt about to spasm.

"Oh Christ!" Rusty exclaimed, pulling the aroused girl against him. His firm lips spread her sweet mouth open and kissed it with a spearing tongue.

Susan thrilled to his oral thrust. Rusty's big hand was on a bulging breast, squeezing it through her thin blouse and bra. He felt her stiff nipple through the fabrics, pushing against his palm.

He rolled Susan's titty as freely as was possible through her clothes, but he was frustrated by their constriction. She had dropped the books and papers she had been holding and they were scattered on the floor of the pickup about her feet.

Rusty's hot, slippery tongue stroked prick-like between her lips, thrashing in her wet mouth. Her own tongue stirred mindlessly against it.

Rusty's free hand went to her back, found the tab of her zipper, and yanked it down. Susan couldn't think. She didn't want to. She let Rusty pull the top of her blouse down to her lap, exposing her white brassiere with her large breasts squeezed together inside it and partially bulging over its top.

The man wasted no time going for her bra strap which he deftly unhooked. He jerked the bra away, setting Susan's titties free. The big boobs bobbled – a creamy extravaganza of exquisitely rounded flesh with nipples rusty-red and rigid, tilting out and slightly upward big as the end-joint of a little finger.

Rusty groaned and grasped the luscious breasts, his fingers sinking into their springy softness. Susan flung her head back, moaning as the man swiped his tongue across one of her nipples. Then he was sucking that firm tip deep into his wet, warm mouth and was nursing like an infant, lapping against her nipple with his tongue as he drew at the unproductive but nonetheless deeply satisfying breast. He twisted his head, grinding his mouth against her pillowed softness as he growled deep in his throat. His hand mauled her other breast, twisting and tweaking at its nipple until that sensitive stem felt as if it would burst from throbbing.

Susan's tits offered so much firm, shapely flesh to play with that Rusty was having a ball. His long cock throbbed in the leg of his Levi's. Suddenly he let Susan go. Her head lolled on her shoulders. She could only think about wanting to lie down – but how?

Rusty solved her problem by grasping her stocking-clad legs, swinging them up and toward him. He pulled on them, skidding Susan on her panties along the vinyl truck-seat. He pushed her legs high in the air, and the befuddled teacher found herself on her back, her raven hair hanging over the edge of the pickup's seat.

The slim, hard-bodied man went for her panties, pulling the pink garment toward him. The black hair on her mount of Venus gushed into view, and a hint of her adorable slit through the hirsute forest. Rusty pulled her panties slithering along her stockings as she kept her legs wantonly raised. Her hairy cunt peeped at him from between the tops of her thighs. Picking the damp, soft nylon off her shoes, Rusty gave it a toss. Susan's pants sailed out through the window of the pickup and hooked on a bush.

Rusty spread her legs apart.

No matter how many women a man succeeds in placing on their backs, he never fails to thrill strongly at the first sight of each new cunt when its guardian thighs are spread wide. Every cunt is different from every other. The differences are usually subtle, but the experienced womanizer appreciates them nevertheless.

Rusty had spread enough thighs in his time and even at his comparatively young age to appreciate the exceptional delicacy and clean configuration of Susan's snatch, gleaming in slitted splendor beneath curling wisps of black hair. Though Rusty was holding her legs well apart, only the narrowest slice of pink inner flesh could be seen between her large labia. That was how tight Susan's pussy was.

Since her legs were sticking far up, the man had a delightful view of her asshole, as well. It was superbly dainty, its beige, star-like puckers converging on a tiny pink slit which could hardly be imagined to accommodate a prick, though Rusty knew the little aperture would stretch sufficiently with the right kind of coaxing. Some other time, he dared to hope. Today he didn't have the patience.