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Victoria Parker: Wet dream schoolgirl

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Victoria Parker Wet dream schoolgirl

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Victoria Parker


Wet dream schoolgirl

CHAPTER ONE

Like many teenaged girls Angela Peterson enjoyed the attentions of older men, and she took extreme joy in showing off her adorable charms whenever she could.

Angie had a teen Goddess body packed on to her frame. She was a pure blonde with sparkling blue eyes. Her hair was long and she liked to wear it in double ponytails, because she thought it enhanced the sweet, oval beauty of her face. Her lips were thick, pouty. Her cheeks were farm-girl fresh.

She had a dream ass that was high and proud, tight and round. Her titties were the size of ripe oranges, and her hips luscious, supple, and hinged to her body perfectly.

Angie attended Winston School for girls and she was in her last year at the private academy. She didn't care much for school. As her body ripened, her beauty matured, she had dreams of becoming a model, an actress, or a TV anchor woman.

The darling lass certainly had the looks for these professions. Angie had none of the desires of other girls her age. She cared not for teenage boys.

"Ugly? Pimples and stuff," she always said. Angie was well aware of her beauty and very aware of her body. She had been ever since she was young and started attracting the hot stares and gawking gazes of men and boys.

She loved to recall an incident that happened in the small Southern city where she lived. She was walking down the street in a tight pair of yellow shorts and a dark blue tank top. She had stopped to look in a store window, then glanced over her shoulder and saw a man in a car staring at her ass. Bang! He slammed into the car ahead of him. The accident and the look on the man's face were stuck in her mind forever.

Angie lived with her grandparents. Her mother was in a mental institute, and she had never known her father who fled while she was a baby. Her grandparents were old, very puritanical and stern. She longed to be away from them.

Angie would lie in bed at night thinking of Los Angeles or New York, New Orleans and other faraway places, and while she did this she masturbated. She loved the climactic thrill of orgasm and had been finger-fucking herself for years, sometimes as many as three times a day.

She had never had sex with a man, however, settling for the excitement of seeing a man turned on by her flirting.

When she did show off, it amounted to innocent teasing such as a generous show of legs, a sexy pose, like bending over, or being sexy at a motel swimming pool.

Angie looked precious in her school uniform. She wore a pay skirt that had pleats and hemmed out high on her thighs. This skirt was matched with a blue sweater, dark blue knee socks, and blue and white saddle shoes. She liked to fix her hair in double ponytails and tied them with white yarn to enhance the outfit. The skirt was tight around her hips and the gentle top slope of her ass, then it pleated out.

She had not one ounce of fat on her tight, well-curved body. Her tummy was flat and her waist narrow, and this added to the supple plushness of her hips and ass.

She sat in her history class toward the end of a lecture by her teacher Mr. Martin. Mr. Martin was his forties, slender, tall, and he had sandy brown hair that had not yet turned gray. He enchanted her with his good looks and his macho mustache.

The bell rang, and as the class filed out, Angie gathered her books to leave. Mr. Martin beckoned to her. She went to his desk. He walked to the door and shut it.

Mr. Martin had, been infatuated with the beautiful girl for over a year now. There were times in class when he had all he could do to say his lecture, to follow his notes, seeing her there in the front row cuddled so adorable and sexy at her desk.

Just before the class had left, Mr. Martin had assigned a paper. A silent groan had gone up from the class. He was always assigning long papers, especially on the weekends, so the students would have to take part of their time off to work on the project.

He trembled within and sat down. He knew he was about to take a very big gamble, but he thought the idea worth any retribution he might suffer if it went wrong.

"Well, are you going to write me a real good paper, Angela?" he said.

"Well, I'll try, but we have a football game this weekend and stuff…" she said, her words slow, measured, trailing off.

"You could be excused from writing the paper and get an A on it if you wish," he said.

"I could?" she exclaimed.

"Yes, indeed."

"Well, oh yeah, that'd be great."

"Yes, you need not write it if you'll do something for me, Angela."

"What, sir?"

He hesitated. "I want you to know I think you're a very pretty young lady."

Angie of course knew this but had never had a man tell her so before.

"Gee, thanks, sir," she said, blushingly. "Yes, yes indeed, you are very beautiful, attractive," he said, looking into her blue eyes. "And if you would pull your skirt up for me for awhile you could have an A for the paper and not do it."

Angie was flabbergasted. Certainly, she liked to show how off and the thought of it gave her a buzz of excitement. "Jeez, I… pull my skirt up?"

"Yes."

"That's all I have to do?"

Angie thought to herself for a moment. What could it hurt? Why not? And get an A for doing it? She also loved the thought of not doing the stupid paper.

"Well, I guess so," she said finally. Mr. Martin breathed a sigh of relief and pushed back from his desk. Angie saw in the crotch of his gray slacks a spiked bulge. "Then go ahead, my dear."

"Like this?" Angie said, and reached down to lift the hem of her tiny, gray school skirt. She pulled it up over her tanned, smooth thighs, up over a pair of sweet, snug pink panties.

Angie held the skirt up. Mr. Martin eyed the way the panties tugged at her crotch, pulled in there into a nylon mound. "Just like this, is this right?"

"Yes, yes!"

Angie looked fabulous standing in front of him, her skirt held high, her legs encased in the dark blue knee socks, her tight blue sweater filled full of her round tits. Her pink undies gloved her hips tightly.

She noticed the wide-eyed look of admiration on her teacher's face as he gawked at her. She saw the throb of his prick as it pulsed and thumped against his slacks.

"Marvelous, marvelous," he whispered, his eyes grazing her firm body, her beautiful face, her teasing little smile, her panties, her legs.

Angie loved the intense look of desire and passion on his face. She knew the sight of her with her skirt up really excited Mr. Martin. She tucked her chin in and looked down at her thin pink panties, the blonde bulge of her cunt-curls pressing against the nylon.

She looked up and found Mr. Martin unzipping his pants. He reached inside his fly and yanked out a big, thick ten-inch prick.

Angie gasped.

She had never seen a man's prick before, and to see such a huge prick as the one in Mr. Martin's hands damn near made her faint. The stalk was rigid, smooth like polished marble, and the cock-head big, round, red-like a ripe plum.

Mr. Martin unhooked his slacks, pushed them down, then peeled his shorts down, so both were on his knees. He grabbed his huge cock, fisted it and pumped six fast strokes and the bulging prick spat out a huge, wet load that spurted through the air and splashed in a puddle in front of darling Angie.

"Ooooh, you look good," Mr. Martin hissed between clenched teeth.

"Sir, should… do you think… I can…"

Angie's words faded as her eyes widened. She watched him slowly jerk on the fat prick. The sight of the mature, handsome man, pulling and pushing on his hard erection sent shimmers of excitement through her beautiful body.

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