Chris Simon - A real hot number

I began to cum.

"He's cuming!" she said. "He's cumminnngggg!"

Her voice faded into a moan and I knew she, too, was in the middle of a monumental orgasm.

My sperm shot into the air and splashed against my belly like hot rain. Thick puddles of cum, running down my hand, making my fingers slippery.

"I can feel him!" she screamed. "His cum! Inside my cunt… hot… hot like hot water… flowing… spurting… I can feel his cock throbbing…"

My own cock was throbbing, and I pushed my body up into my fist as though it were Iris' cunt. I tightened my fist around my cock.

"Oh, Jesus!" she said. And that was all. There was a very loud silence.

I was sitting on the john reading a copy of Stud and beating off. I had slept until noon and I woke up with a bone on that could only be cured one way. I was reading the ads and imagining what lay at the other end of each proposition. I was lazily jerking myself off while I scanned the personals. The first two pages were pretty dull, really. Lots of gays and prostitutes – and S-M's. But on the third page I came to an ad that caught my imagination. It read: Schoolteacher, mid-30's, single and lonely. Needs mature males for quiet, restive enjoyment. Man willing to help in sexual education of unitiated. Call Abigail, XXX-XXXX.

Well, that was one for me. After all the kinky stuff I had been involved with lately, I thought it might be a real treat to get into something sexually wholesome. I could imagine Abigail, with her hair tied up in a bun on her head and big, horn-rimmed glasses that tend to slip down her nose. I thought of Abigail with knock-knees and blushing cheeks while I stroked my stiff prick, which was getting more swollen by the minute.

I was onto a fantasy of mine that I didn't even know I had. I could see Abigail wearing heavy nylon hose with seams up the backs of her heavy legs. She would wear a plain, cotton dress that fit loosely, mostly to hide her small, firm tits. Yeah, tits that she would be embarrassed to show anyone, but not to me because she wouldn't even know me. "Abigail, show me your tits," I would say to her and she would blushingly turn and open her dress, slipping it over her shoulders. She would turn to me in her cotton bra so I could see her freckled shoulders and then she would reach back and open the halter and free her little tits. They would be like cherry-topped cupcakes. Little tits with big, hard nipples. The nipples hard, to show her desire, her secret lust.

I stroked steadily on my prick as I thought about stroking her tits, her little firm breasts, I would put my mouth over her tit and fit the whole thing in. I would suck it until she sighed and moaned and then I would bite her nipple. Bite it hard and tell her, "How's that, snatch-cakes?"

My prick was getting really hot. I could feel the buzz in my balls and I reached down and started playing with my nuts with my free hand while I kept up the pumping. Pumping my prick up to shoot my jism at pure Abigail. I could imagine her up against the bathroom wall, naked, her little pussy hiding beneath her crossed legs and her scanty bush. She would have her hands over her tits, to hide her nakedness from me, but I would say, "Take your hands away! I'm gonna cum all over those dainty little tits of yours!"

I was sitting on the pot but just then I jumped up and jerked my cock hard as I shot my wad across the bathroom. I saw the cum splatter against the tile and drip down. I grabbed my cock with both hands and pumped it fiercely, howling, "Take that, you bitch! And that!"

I made a nice mess on the wall. I sat on the john breathing heavy and watching my jism ooze down the wall. When I caught my breath, I got up and grabbed a towel and wiped the wall clean. Then I picked up the newspaper and looked at the ad again. There was a big spot of cum on it and I wiped it off with a piece of toilet paper, then went out into the living room. I was naked and horny as hell.

I picked up the phone and dialed the number. A woman's voice answered.

"Abigail?" I said.

"Yes. Who is this?" she answered. Her voice was prudish.

"This is Allen," I said.

"I don't believe I know you," she said suspiciously.

"No, you don't," I said. "I'm answering your ad."

"Um. Could you tell me a little about yourself."

I felt like I was being interviewed for a job. "Well, let's see. I'm young and fairly handsome, some girls think. Intelligent… yes, intelligent. I like women who know themselves intellectually." I paused and thought about some other kind of bullshit, but I didn't have any. "How about you? What are you like?" I asked.

"Never mind about me," she said. "It's you we're interested in right now. What about your sexual attitudes? You don't have any sexual reservations, do you?"

"Me? Sexual reservations?"

"I don't want a man who's going to be afraid," she said.

"Sure, I understand," I answered.

"I need a man who's well-versed in the ways of sex."

"That's me. When do we get together."

"Not so fast."

"Listen," I said, "I don't have time to play games with you. I've got a seven-inch prick that's hard for you and either you want it or you don't. What's it gonna be?"

"Seven inches?" she asked quietly.

"And fat," I said. "And I've got two balls filled with cum. They're big and hairy and hot for your little cunt."

"There's no need to get vulgar," she said.

"You wanna fuck?" I asked.

"Can you be here…"

"I'm on my way," I said, "just tell me where."

She told me an address and I wrote it down and then I hung up before she could change her mind. She was a weird one all right. Maybe it would turn out to be fun, though. I had always wondered about those prudish little schoolteachers. So now I would find out.

It took me about five minutes to get dressed and out of the house. It was a long drive to where she lived and I was pretty tired when I got to the suburban bungalow she lived in. It was innocuous enough – pink clapboard with wooden shutters. Straight out of "Ozzie and Harriet". I went up and knocked on the door. I saw a peephole slide open and an eye stared out at me.

"Yes?" a voice said from inside.

"It's me, Allen," I said.

"Allen who?" she asked.

"Listen," I said. "I just talked to you on the phone. Do you want me to come in or don't you?"

She opened the door. She stood behind it while I came in and I didn't get a chance to see her very well. She told, me to have a seat and I did. When I turned around, she was gone. I heard her call to me from another room, saying she would be right with me. I sat on the couch feeling pretty stupid about accepting the offer. I thought I might have spent my Saturday morning better in bed, alone, at home. But there I was.

Then she came in. I nearly popped my eyes out of my head staring at her. She was a real knockout. She was wearing a pair of tight-fitting jeans that clung to her shapely ass and she had on a t-shirt with no bra underneath and I could see her huge tits bouncing like jello as she walked towards me. Was this what those old school marms with the tits hanging down to their waists looked like before they got old? My teachers had never looked like this one, I was sure of that.

She slinked over to me and sat down on the couch beside me. I was astounded, I couldn't think of anything to say. She brought her fate close to mine and then she whispered into my ear, "Hi, prick."

Too fucking much! My cock came to life instantly. I threw myself on top of her and she didn't resist. I tore the t-shirt from her body and she didn't struggle at all. She whispered encouragement instead.

"Yes, that's right, Allen. I want to be treated mean. I want to be fucked."

I was only there five minutes and we were both already panting and naked on her couch. She had both her hands around my prick and was jerking on it violently, and I had my thumb shoved up her cunt and was sloshing around in her torrid pit. I threw her onto her back on the floor and jumped on top of her and she threw her legs open. Before I knew it, "bingo!" it was over. I shot my wad into her and I was laying on top of her, panting with exhaustion. She gave a buck and threw me off of her and then she got up and left me alone on the floor. I wondered where she went, but not for long. I heard her put on a record – some soft music – and in a few minutes I was fast asleep.