Carl Burton - Sex teaching teacher

Oh, God. I surely will be sick! she thought as she drove her mouth down onto the bulging cockhead, encompassing it completely, locking her lips into the groove behind it, feeling it compress her tongue, feeling the hard shaft stretch her lips… tasting it… smelling it… and she began to suck.

Wildly.

Rusty writhed on the balls of his feet and blindly tousled the teacher's black, silken hair. His eyes were closed, his head tilted back. He bit his lip.

He had never experienced such a thrill in his life. Not that he hadn't had his cock sucked before, but never by a don't-touch-me girl who pretended to be so proper and suddenly went wild at the touch, or today just the sight, of a man. The fact that it had happened without advance notice made it all the more thrilling.

A passionate groan escaped Rusty's mouth, and he began to drive his cock forward and back between Susan's lips. She was sucking so hard that his urethra burned. Her tautly stretched lips were like a wide rubber band around his big dick. Her teeth dragged across his corona, giving excruciating stimulation.

To Susan the act was wildly exciting because it was forbidden and, she thought, nasty. Part of her response was due to a need she felt for degradation, and this act surely degraded her. But then she began to appreciate the act for itself. She found that having a big, stiff cock in her mouth furnished some surprising sensual delights – the hardness of the shaft between her lips, the fullness of the glans which stimulated her tongue and palate with its pressure, but most of all the smell and taste of it. It was wild dirty, maybe – but strangely good. And getting better.

What Susan didn't like was the way Rusty was ramming at her. She was forced to pull back with his thrusts, to keep herself from gagging and perhaps to save her throat from being ruptured. She made inarticulate protesting sounds against the man's mouth-filling meat.

Rusty finally brought himself under control and stroked more gently, with short, teasing motions. Susan liked that. His horny ridge slipping back and forth between her lips was stimulating.

"Don't suck so… Goddamn hard!" Rusty panted.

Susan hadn't realized how hard she had been drawing on his prick. She hadn't sucked at anything so earnestly since she had-given up her mother's titty. She sucked more gently and moved her tongue against the underside of Rusty's dong.

"Ooooooh!" the man finally groaned, "I'm… going to…"

He pulled his prick out of Susan's mouth, and the wet, stiff organ whipped in the air.

"…SHOOT!" Rusty cried in desperation.

He let go with a blast that struck Susan full in the face. The goo splattered over her nose and lips and came close to her eyes, but didn't quite get into them. Startled and frustrated by the sudden abortion of the titillating oral intercourse, she fell to the side just in time to avoid Rusty's follow-up blast, which struck the front of the teacher's desk and dribbled down. He was clutching his cock by then, aiming it downward as far as he could, and his third and fourth spurts hit the floor.

Susan crouched and panted, staring at his excitement being dissipated while her pussy burned. She tasted his cum which was on her lips.

God damn him! she thought. Oh, damn him to hell!

It's your own fault, girl, for sucking his cock, an inner voice told her. But didn't it taste good? Didn't you DIG it?

No! Susan told her other self firmly. I DIDN'T dig it! And it tasted nasty! I'll never going to do it again.

But it didn't make you sick, did it? her other voice taunted.

It probably will. My stomach feels funny.

Actually it wasn't her stomach that was bothering Susan, but her cunt. Her hot, yearning cunt. What in God's name was she going to do with it? Rusty's cock was now too soft to help her.

She wiped her face on a hanky she carried in a little pocket of her skirt, then rose to her feet while Rusty stuffed his limp prick into his pants. He grinned.

"That's how it goes sometimes, baby," he said, apparently not embarrassed in the least. "Sometimes we both get our rocks off, sometimes just…"

"I certainly won't go out with you!" Susan sniffed. "And before you leave, will you kindly clean up the mess you made on my desk and the floor?"

"Oh. Sure." Rusty glanced about.

"There's some Kleenex in my right-hand bottom drawer," Susan said, and left the room. She didn't feel like bothering with books or paper.

Where did a young woman go when she needed to be serviced?

It was too bad, Susan thought wickedly, that there weren't houses of prostitution that women could frequent when they were hard-up for a prick. Perhaps there were in some cities, she speculated, but surely not in Poplar Gap.

There were bars, however.

Susan had done two daring things already that day – things she had never thought herself capable of – and the third came easy. With her warm thighs grinding moistly on the sopped silken strip of her panties, she walked down the street toward Main. The bar she was headed for was right around the corner. It was dark, she had noted before in passing by. The darkness might afford her some anonymity, she hoped, though she wasn't overly concerned about that right then. Her sensual need was more important.

"Sorry, we don't serve unescorted ladies," the bartender said as Susan walked in.

There were two young bucks seated at the neat end of the bar. They grinned at Susan, and one of them said, "She ain't unescorted. She's with us. Ain't you, babe?"

He reached and grabbed her by the arm. Trembling, Susan let herself be drawn to a bar-stool between the farmhands, the other having moved down one place to make room for her.

"What's your name, baby?" the first man asked, ogling her tits.

"Sue," she replied, hoping this might distinguish her from teacher Susan Campbell, whom more of the town's grownups knew by name than by sight.

"I'm Chuck," the more forward of the two men said. He was fleshy faced, in his early twenties, and had light hair. "That there's Fred," he added, indicating the taller, dark-haired male at Susan's opposite side. Fred had a steely look and seemed a bit older, though perhaps he wasn't. Silent, serious people always seemed older than their years.

"What are you drinking, Sue?" Fred asked. His voice was low-pitched and had a hard edge like his gaze.

"I… I'll have a beer," Susan said, thinking that sounded better than ordering hard liquor. She doubted that the bartender knew how to make a decent martini.

"One beer for the lady," Chuck loudly told the barman, "and give my buddy and me another round of bourbon, huh?"

The bartender winked and went about it.

Susan felt out of place. She didn't like Chuck and his friend, and she didn't enjoy sitting at the bar with them. She wondered if anyone deeper inside the darkness of the place had recognized her. She didn't want to look around for fear that might facilitate recognition.

Her beer arrived, and she sipped it. She hoped it would steady her nerves. At least, it was cold, and it satisfied the thirst she had developed.

It also took the taste of Rusty's cock out of her mouth. She wasn't sure whether she was happy about that or not.

You wicked person! she scolded herself. What's happened to you?

"You're pretty cute," Chuck said as he eyed her. "You live around here?"

"I, uh, am just passing through," Susan said, and sipped some more beer.

"Checkin' out the local joints, huh?" Fred suggested.

Susan gave him a barbed look. "I felt thirsty and wanted a beer. Is there anything wrong with that?"

"Hell no, baby," Fred said, and toasted her with his shot glass. He knocked the bourbon down.

"Well, uuuh, what you got planned?" Chuck inquired, his fingers doodling along her bare arm. They gave Susan little shivers.