Ron Taylor - Teacher_s naughty wife

Please what? Please stop? Please don't stop? She didn't know. One of her thighs lifted, and she got her leg around Lisa's naked body, and she was leaning back, further back, in her chair, the edge of the makeup table stiff against her spine. It hurt a little, but what Lisa was doing felt so much better!

She reached down with one hand, eager to lend a finger's assistance. She found her clit, stroked it while Lisa was sucking sweet honey from her pussy hole, and then she was getting her finger licked by Lisa's frisky tongue, and she was coming, God, she was really coming, and she hadn't done it to herself, she'd actually done it with somebody else helping, the first time it had ever happened to Joanne in all her eighteen years. She slumped back, drained for the moment, really drained, worn out, exhausted, unable to do anything but lie there moaning and twitching and shivering.

Until Lisa stood up, tall and proud, her face beaming, her lips bent into a triumphant smile. "New you do me," she invited, offering her tiny tits with their long hard brown nipples, offering her scantily-haired pussy with its crinkly lips protruding. She sat down on Joanne's lap, brought the younger girl's mouth to her nipples, steered Joanne's hand into her crotch, and as the nipples wet in saliva and throbbed against Joanne's tongue, the young girl felt her middle finger willingly poke its way into Lisa's pussy, plunging deep into a tight wet hole whose walls were smooth as satin, whose walls snapped shut around her. Lisa's cunt began to milk at her finger the way Joanne's mouth was milking passionately at Lisa's dry lips. Before the evening was finished, Joanne had knelt on the floor and lapped nervously into Lisa's cunt, tasting the juices of another woman's snatch, and she had teased Lisa to a quivering orgasm that ended in body rubbing body and mouth sucking mouth, tongues dueling crazily back and forth.

She'd never done it again. The next morning she woke up frightened, feverish, certain that God had cursed her during the night with some frightful plague. It was only mono, but she'd managed to pass on the germs to Lisa last night and both of them had to drop out of the play on account of sickness. And when they met again, at another drama tryout, Joanne was still obsessed with the fear that had come to her after it was all over, and she avoided the girl and all her attempts to renew the acquaintance they'd begun in the makeup room. By that time she was dating a boy, and she was fucking him like a mink, proving to herself that she was a normal girl, that she wasn't one of those weird dykes she'd heard about in idle gossip, no matter if she had acted like one once, only once.

But, God, she used to think, it was so exciting, the way she made me come, the first other person who ever made me came, and her tongue on my clit, her nipples in my mouth, the way her pussy felt when my finger slipped inside and began to stir her juices round and round. Could it feel so good and still be so awful?

Thirteen years later she still didn't know, but the pressure of Alice's hand on her knee – Tom's slut's hand! – was making her feel very butterflyish in the stomach and she was having trouble getting her words out. She couldn't even remember the scenario she had planned to improvise around and she wondered if she really had the stuff to carry this off after all.

"I said," Alice repeated, looking up, "that you seem awfully tight for a member of the movement. Like, when I touch you here. Isn't that the right thing for women to do, to get loose with each other? Aren't we all sisters, after all?"

"I don't want to talk about it any more," Joanne said. "I really think I should be going, if it's all right with you. The group will probably be in touch with you again, if we continue this study, that is, I, uh…"

She got up, and Alice rose from the floor. Joanne stuffed the papers into her satchel case, thrust it under her arm, starting to turn. "Wait a second, would you?" Alice said, catching Joanne's other sand. Joanne turned slowly, and saw that Alice had taken off her glasses and fluffed her hair a little.

"What is it?" she said, and then Alice leaned in and kissed her all over the mouth and chin.

Sputtering, Joanne tried to break free of that crazy, unexpected assault, but it was like trying to take a leech off her flesh while wearing gloves. Alice reached in, grabbed for Joanne's tits, found them, tugged, pulling and kneading until the nipples were stiff and agitated against the fabric of Joanne's blouse. Alice panted heavily into Joanne's mouth, thrust her tongue inside and began to wiggle it, and then she started undoing the blouse.

She did it in a hurry, ripping buttons off, tearing the thing open all the way down to the waist. Her hand shot into the blouse and she was holding Joanne's tit, still kissing her, and she started pinching off the nipple which crowned the firm round tit in her tight grip. Joanne squirmed and fought, and her foot slipped on a throw tug. She felt herself falling, but Alice fell with her, and Joanne wound up on the bottom, still as pinned as she had been when she was standing up. "Stop it!" she moaned, slapping and kicking impotently. One of her shoes fell off, hitting the floor with a thump, and as she kept kicking, so did the other shoe. Her skirt was pulled up to her waist, and she could feel the floor through the thinness of her white panties. "Will you for God's sake let me up?" she stormed, but the younger girl was surprisingly strong and towed no intention of releasing her prey.

Alice started kissing the older woman's face and neck. She slurped her way into the undone top of her blouse, pushing it aside with her hands, and she got her lips firmly affixed to the straining tip of Joanne's left nipple.

"Aaaaaiieeeeeee!" Joanne screeched, pounding the floor with her fist. "Stop it stop it stop itttttttt!"

But Alice kept sucking, and she had one of her hands lower now, sliding it on the smooth firm upper curves of Joanne's thighs. Her fingers had a disconcerting way of slipping back and forth over the well-filled crotch of Joanne's tight panties, and it seemed they knew what they were doing. They began to trace the outline of Joanne's slit in the clinging nylon, pushing into the gash. Alice's hair smelled like jasmine and there was a sweet floral scent arising from her, but it was almost overwhelmed by the raw perspiration forming in all the hollows of Joanne's body. What in the name of God was happening to her? What kind of woman had her husband taken up with, for the love of slit?

Alice pushed aside the crotchstrip of Joanne's panties, got her finger in. The pubic hairs crackled as she stroked them, twined her way amid their clustering curls, and then she was fingering Joanne's slit itself, teasing the plump moist labes, getting at the smaller, more tender lips just inside, the tissue ringing the mouth of Joanne's hole itself. "Oh, no!" Joanne moaned as that finger wiggled and jiggled and popped within, stroking its way up and down her ticklish vulva, massaging her pussy's antechamber from clitoris to tunnel opening. Joanne began to sob and shake and plead for mercy, but she could not seem to break Alice's oral fix on her nipple.

Not even when Alice lifted her face, smiled up at Joanne in the sweetest, most innocent manner Joanne had ever seen, then dropped her head and began to suck the other nipple, this time using teeth and tongue as well as lips. She drooled her spit all over the end of Joanne's tit, she chewed the tender but pliable erection of the nipple, bit into the soft smooth flesh around the areola, and she bathed it all in her spittle, using her tongue to work the frothy drool around and into Joanne's skin. "Mmmmm," she puffed as she sucked, and there was a curiously intriguing vibration around and around Joanne's nipple. It was something like the action of the vibrator she'd exhibited for Tom last evening, but there was a subtle, significant difference. This vibrating had nothing to do with batteries. It was human, it came from a human mouth, and it fluctuated in patterns she couldn't predict in advance, so that the pressure let up without warning and then came back, strengthened anew, buzzing like a bee around her nipple's stubby peak.