Ward Michaels - Lessons After School

Ben stared at her, his eyes wide. He would have thought she was the type of woman who still wore slips. Obviously, he was wrong. The skin of her stomach was creamy white and looked unbelievably warm and soft. His tongue moved inside his mouth, jumping in readiness to lick at and explore that silky smoothness. He could imagine himself delving into her tiny belly button, twisting and swirling his tongue from side to side, picking up the musky flavor of Betty's secret enclosure. His greedy eyes moved up again to her beautifully formed, jutting breasts. They pressed firmly against the inside of her knit sweater, and their nipples were clearly visible to him. Ben was surprised again. Betty did not wear a brassiere either. Perhaps the young English teacher was not as naive as he thought.

How he longed to take her! He wanted to run his wet tongue over every inch of those small, perfect breasts of hers. He wanted to touch his lips to every part of her lean, succulent body. He could guess just by looking at her how fresh and yet womanly she would taste. He longed to bury his face in the pits of her arms, licking up every drop of perspiration. He wanted to move over her body bit by bit, kissing and licking, laving her in open masculine worship. He would not touch the one secret, special place, though, not until he had her crazy with anticipation. When she was begging for him to eat out her hot, juicy pussy, he would dive into it, forcing its tight, pouty lips apart with his thick tongue. He would suck the sweet juice from her until she was absolutely dry.

"How about another drink?" Ben asked, his voice low with passion.

"Can't. My head's reeling already."

"More wine then." He poured her another glass before she could protest. He raised his glass. "Here's to us, and survival," he said.

"I'll drink to that," Betty answered, slurring her words.

Ben slouched down in his chair, spreading his strong, hairy legs wide apart. Betty was struck once more by the shortness of his cutoffs. She caught her breath suddenly. Something was visible through the leg opening. It was the man's bull size scrotum, hair-studded and filled with huge, cummy balls. Betty had never seen anything like it. She knew what testicles looked like, of course, but she had never seen any to match these. The texture of his skin was impossibly smooth, and she caught herself wondering what it would be like to touch it with just the tips of her fingers. Although she tried to put that idea from her mind, it would not go.

Ben shifted his position slightly, and his massive penis flopped into view. Betty could see its huge, fist shaped head glistening at her, the slit in its center moist with the fragrance of preseminal fluid. It was obvious to her that the man was equipped like a stallion. The penis was half hard, but not yet rigid. Her heart beat so fast she was afraid it would fly right out of her chest. What would it be like to hold that amazing organ in her palm? Small movements of her fingers would translate it into heavy, raging erection, and turn Ben into a sexual madman. She found herself longing for that to happen. How would she handle it? How would she deal with his lust?

"Are you enjoying it?" Ben whispered.

"Oh, ah, what?" Betty asked, her cheeks going suddenly red.

"Your wine?"

"Oh, the wine. Sure." She shifted uncomfortably, trying to take her attention away from the display between his legs.

"You were so quiet I was beginning to think you were getting bored."

"No, I'm not bored, not in the least." Her eyes would not budge from his huge, creamy penis.

"It's nice being alone with you, Betty," Ben said, his voice very low. "I've wanted this ever since the first day at school, the first day I saw you." Reaching out, he picked up her shoeless foot. Holding it by the heel, he began to massage the sole of it with his strong, sure thumbs.

Betty let out a soft moan, but she did nothing to pull her foot away from him. His hands were so warm and caressing, his thumbs finding all the most sensitive places. Maybe there was something to the art of foot massage and the way it was supposed to affect the whole body. She knew that right now every touch created a tremor deep in the hot, juicy folds of her tingling pussy. With a small groan, she pushed her foot against his thumbs.

Now his right hand began to move, carefully, almost in slow motion. It crept up along her ankle, and he squeezed his powerful fingers around it, making her fear he would crush it. She giggled quietly. Letting her head loll back against the back of the sofa, she closed her eyes. His hands felt so good on her. All she wanted now was for him to go further. Her whole body trembled with naked delight.

His hands both moved now, sliding, pulling, exploring every inch of her tapered leg, all the way to her knee. Every touch set her on fire, and she could feel that her pouty cunt lips were leaking a steady, oozing stream of fresh, filmy liquor.

"How about if we go into my bedroom now?" Ben whispered.

Betty lifted her arms to him, inviting him to carry her into the other room.

"God, you're hot," Ben grunted. "You're trembling all over, just like a little kid."

"Oh, yesssss," Betty hissed. "I've never felt like this before. Never!" She lay squirming on his double bed, her entire body at his command.

Suddenly, his lips were against hers, and she crushed her body against him. His strong arms surrounded her, pulling her close, making her back ache with his urgency. Ben's thick, wet tongue parted her timid lips, and they shared an open mouthed kiss, wet, hot, frantically exciting. The kiss went on and on, and Betty felt as though she might lose consciousness, swooning from sheer excitement. Ben's hands were all over her, up and down her back, caressing her sides, reaching all the way down to her sensitive buttocks.

Ben pulled away from her suddenly.

"Where are you going?" Betty gasped. "Don't leave me now."

He chuckled softly in the semidarkness. "I'm not going anywhere. I just want to look at you for a minute. Then I'm going to take your clothes off, very slowly, piece by piece, until I see every inch of you. Is that all right?"

"Oh, yes, yes, yes." She tossed her head from side to side, excited beyond all reason.

As she watched him through passion slitted eyes, Ben slowly removed his shirt. Betty blinked, fighting to focus. His chest was so muscular, the pectoral muscles standing out in huge, well defined blocks. It was hairy too, with a lush mat that made her want to caress it with her fingers. She wondered how it would feel when her sensitive breasts were crushed against the firm wall of his chest, and a fresh thrill of passion coursed through her body.

Ben unsnapped the waistband of his cutoffs. His big fingers caught the tab of his zipper, and he began pulling it downward. Betty realized now that in seconds she would see him naked, and a look of raw lust filled her violet colored eyes. She could hardly wait.

The lush bush of Ben's pubic fuzz appeared, and Betty caught the scent of his totally masculine crotch. The tangy smell seemed to fill her lungs, its effect traveling at once to her throbbing, drooling pussy. She squirmed impatiently on the mattress, her eyes never leaving the widening vee in his shorts.

Slowly, very aware of how his leisurely striptease was exciting the girl, Ben pushed his cutoffs down over his trim, muscular hips. They feel to a pool at his ankles. Betty gasped at the sight of his huge organ, now totally erect. It jutted thickly in front of him, the ten inches of it throbbing and gleaming in the half light of the tiny bedroom. What would she do? His penis looked much too large to fit into her tiny, tight sided cleft. It would kill her if he tried. Still, she was so excited by now that she found it difficult to care. If he killed her, she would die fulfilled. A loud moan escaped her straining throat as she looked at him. It was like being alone with a classical god.