Victoria Parker - Wet dream schoolgirl

The hot cream poured out of his cock in gooshy squirts. He stiffened. His muscles rippled. He gave himself an expert hand-job and peered down into Angie's beautiful face, saw there the passion etched in crinkles on her forehead, saw the sparkle in her baby-blue eyes.

He finally spent his huge load. He panted, huffed and puffed. Angie relaxed in the glow of her two orgasms.

Mr. Hall's cock wilted quickly. The stalk was raw, red, creamy, slick and dribbles of cream seeped from the tip. He leaned down and kissed Angie warmly, pressed his lips to her sweet mouth, swished his tongue around, then whispered, "My lovely darling, that was wonderful, wasn't it?"

Angie lay there thinking she would like to cum all the time, just simply vibrate continuously with that good feeling. "Yes, it was, but I better go, sir. I've got class."

She got up.

"Are you gonna keep my panties, Mr. Hall?"

"But, sir, these skirts are so short and stuff, and… well I…"

Mr. Hall peered up her skirt. He lifted the hem and his eyes inspected Angie's astonishing ass. Her rump was tight, round, smooth. A beautiful ass. It looked as though some famous sculptor had carved it to perfection. The teacher had never seen an ass that excited him the way Angie's did.

"I'm sure you already know this, but you have an incredible ass, Angie," he whispered, then began raining tiny love kisses on the slick cheeks. He pushed her skirt up high on her waist, licked his tongue all over.

"Oh, sir. You're not…"

But he did. He slashed his tongue up and down the crack of her ass. This new experience sent a tingle, an erotic jolt of excitement and pleasure through Angie's body. He cupped the cheeks with his hands, pushed them apart to accommodate the wild wag of his wet tongue.

"Uh! Ah!" Angie huffed. "My ass! Not my ass, sir!"

"Uh-huh," he said, his tongue carving a path up and down the fuzzy crack.

Angie tried to remember what Miss Preston had said when he tongue-fucked her ass, because she knew Mr. Hall wanted her to talk that way.

"Oh, I can't believe you're doin' that, sir."

His tongue twirled on her asshole.

"Ahhhhh, jeez!" Angie gasped. "I can't!"

"Have you ever had a rim-job, my darling?"

"No. But gee, honey. Have mercy."

Angie was completely captivated by the experience, his tongue rolling, wiggling on her asshole. She tried to remember again what Anne had said, but she was so lost in the thrilling feeling she was having, she could think about was screaming for joy.

"Well, you really are doin' that, aren't you?" she finally managed.

"Yes, mmm, mmmm," he said.

Then she remembered.

"My ass, my ass!" She gulped. "Tongue-fuck my ass, honey! Eat, eat, eat it!" Angie cried, and shoved her finger in her pussy as Miss Preston had done. She fingered her cunt as Mr. Hall twiddled his hot, lewd tongue on her shit-hole.

She came.

"Ah, shit!" Angie exclaimed. "What are you… at, shit!"

He bit, sucked, kissed, and took the young lady to new plateaus of pleasure, and as her finger fucked her pussy, she came again and again and again.

So many things had been happening and so fast, too, Angie thought to herself. She was enjoying all the action at Winston, loving all the sex that was happening to her, getting A's for showing off and masturbating with Mr. Martin. Life was sweet, she thought, and she could see that there were many things in life that her beauty and sexiness might bring her.

Mr. Martin had invited her over to his apartment, and she was thinking about that. They were to get together that evening after dinner.

He had said, "I want you to model for me, and I'm going to pay you."

His offer had excited her and she readily accepted.

That evening after dinner she told her grandmother she was going to meet a friend at the Pizza Hut, then she put on a pair of tight, faded jeans that crafted against her body so tightly they looked like cellophane. She matched the light blue with a dark blue sweater, a pair of one-inch white high heels, and walked to Mr. Martin's. She went around to the back door as he had instructed and knocked.

He let her in and they walked to the living room. Mr. Martin had on only a short terrycloth robe.

"Ah, darling," he said, "I'm so glad you came. I told you I'd pay you to model for me, and here is one hundred dollars."

Mr. Martin handed her a crisp bill. Angie had never seen a hundred-dollar bill before. She folded it and put it in her purse.

He picked up a camera and said, "Let's take some pictures."

Angie posed in the middle of the room, turning so he could shoot pictures of her from the front and the back, so he could get a shot of the way the jeans cradled her ass so tightly. Then he asked her to take the jeans down and off.

She slithered out of them and stood before him in her dark blue sweater, the white heels, and a pair of pussy-packed blue panties. Her blonde hair bobbed in double ponytails at the sides of her oval face. Her lips were freshly glossed with pink lipstick, and her cheeks glowed with rouge. She was indeed stunning, and Mr. Martin took several pictures of her.

"Put your thumbs in your panties like you're going to take them down," he instructed.

Angie thumbed the top of her panties and pulled them out. She smiled sexily, her lips tugging down at the corners of her mouth, and she pulled the panties out farther as if inviting him to dunk his hand inside.

He snapped a picture. Then he had her turn around and bend over, put her hands on her knees, and he took pictures of her ass. He instructed her to turn back around and take her panties down.

Angie pulled the blue undies down to her knees and showed him her beautiful blonde cunt.

"Take your sweater off," he said.

Angie pulled it up over her head and tossed it to the floor, stood with her swelling tits bulging out of a blue bra. Mr. Martin snapped a passionate picture. Angie set her legs apart, feet flat on the floor, and pushed her hips out. Then she cupped into her bra and brought out her big titties and set them up over the top so they were squished together succulently. "Ah, yes!" Mr. Martin muttered, snapping away.

His robe had fallen open and his huge horse prick was sticking out like a big lead pipe. Tears of cum covered the bright plum-red cock-head. Angie loved teasing him, and she turned around and showed him her smooth, naked ass. He took several pictures and reloaded the camera.

She stood, hands on hips, looking back over her shoulder, her little pants a tight stretch on her thighs, her marvelous ass so round, chubby, tight, beautiful. Mr. Martin flashed more pictures. She saw his cock squirt. It wobbled from side to side as he moved, and she was thrilled that she excited him so.

"I have another outfit I'd like you to model in, Angie," he said. "It's laid out on the bed in the bathroom."

"More pictures?" she asked.

"Just a few more, okay?"

Angie went to the bedroom took off her clothes and slipped into a pair of black stretch nylons that stayed up without garters. They had diamond designs down the back of the leg. She pulled them up over her legs onto her thighs, tugged them tightly, and they snapped into place. She wiggled into a tight pair of thin, nylon pink panties. She slipped into a black bra with underwired nylon lace half cups that really lifted her tits proudly, leaving the nipples uncovered. The bra was trimmed in pink. And to this she added a black waist-cincher that hooked up the front. It was lightly boned and gave her supple figure and hourglass shaping. The cincher was trimmed also in pink with pink ribbons down the front.

Angie stepped into a shiny pair of black high heels. She appraised her self in the mirror, fixed her double ponytails with black ribbons, made sure that they draped down the sides of her face.