Helen Highwater - Shameless teacher

She forced her lips and tongue to shape the demeaning syllables she was forced to utter.

"Please… let… me…"

"Yeah? Yeah?" Willy croaked.

"…s-s-suck…"

Her throat was suddenly parched dry.

The waiting silence in the room was almost tangible.

"…your cock," she finally forced out between lips that were almost numb.

And yet tingling with curious apprehension

Anticipation…?

"Sure," Willy chuckled, "since you ask so nice, teach-you just fish it out an' get your cute mouth wrapped around the ol' dork an' lick it up good an' hard, an' see what Santa Claus gonna give you for bein' a good cunt!"

Her hands seemed to belong to somebody else as they reached for the zipped fly and began to manipulate the tab downward with difficulty over the strained bulge. It squirmed and heaved beneath her fingers like a little animal endeavoring to escape.

Somebody else's hands…

…but she felt every tiny sensation rippling from her fingertips up along her arms, shuddering down to her belly…

Sweating now with the fear and tension.

Her armpits were wet, and a trickle of moisture coursed down the valley between her breasts.

And the secret place between her legs was so drenched in perspiration that her white nylon panties were saturated, clinging with disgusting, soggy clamminess to her…

With a metallic rustle, the zipper moved along its track, and the two edges of cloth sprang apart as the great rod of flesh came surging out of captivity.

"That what you want, teach?"

She forced herself to nod.

To rest her palms lightly on either side of it, feeling the pulsating heat as the blood surged through its tissues.

To stare down at the angry-lipped bole that was al ready oozing colorless liquid.

To wrap her hands gently around its frightening girth…

(Such tender, satiny skin, like the petals of a rose; such exquisite skin to cover such a ravening, hideous monstrosity as this…)

To bend her head slowly, slowly, until the phallic mushroom was only an inch below her virginal lips.

To push her tongue out between them; and with its reluctant, quivering tip, to taste the skin that (petal-soft) covered the purple head…

It tasted like Skin.

The butterfly-gentle touch of her tongue was enough to turn the droplet-ooze into a sudden tiny stream, and the flow trickled onto her tongue before she realized what was happening. Startled, she drew back, her mind expecting the pungent foulness of heavily concentrated urine- But her tastebuds discovered only a bland, almost nothing-flavor that was no more offensive than her own saliva.

She ducked her bead back down and tasted once again, more boldly this time, running her tongue across the width of the cockhead, lapping up the precoital fluid.

Willy's harsh, choking inhalation, his tense quivering, assured her that she was doing the right thing.

Strange, how strange that such a tiny caress had the power to reduce this hulking male almost to helplessness!

She let the cockhead slide between her lips-hard, hard, yet at the same time vulnerable, the softness of cell-tissue underlying the hardness, the fragility of flesh curiously intrusive.

It was, somehow, almost lovable…

Her lips slid down below the corona, and tightened.

He was her captive.

Her willing, shuddering-with-pleasure captive.

She let her head drop further, until her lips touched her curving fingers. She inched them back down along the shaft, her lips following, the hot, throbbing flesh filling morn and more of the wet cave of her mouth until it reached the barrier of her throat, and she could accept no more…

And with a curious reluctance, she paused, and held it, and then slid her lips back up along the shaft, and back over the head, and let it stand free, glistening with her saliva.

"Doin' fine, teach," Willy hissed. "Natural-born cocksucker, that's for sure."

She scarcely heard him. She was contemplating his rigid, gleaming phallus with a strange feeling of possessiveness.

"Dig the balls out, Miss Avalon," the command came, and mechanically her fingers delved into his fly for the soft, wrinkled scrotal bag, coaxing it out of the parted fly, holding at last in her hands, even more vulnerable than his penis.

"Squeeze 'em a bit, huh? Not too hard."

Willy's tone was almost pleading now that she had him in the grip of pleasure, and she delicately tightened her hold on his balls, alert for his sharply drawn breath of pleasure, and for the first hint of sound or tension that would alert her to the fact that she was approaching the edge of pain.

Fondling, tenderly squeezing his balls, she captured the soaring cockhead between her lips once again and ran the moist embrace of her mouth down the pulsing-veined shaft.

It went a little deeper this time. Somehow her throat seemed to open before the invading head, and for a peculiarly triumphant moment she felt it slipping past the barrier, before she thought about what she was doing and reflex took over, and she had to pull back again, choking slightly.

This time, before she enclosed the weapon with her lips again, she ran her tongue voluptuously all around the head, discovering its shape, the little cleft below where her tonguetip naturally lingered, bringing a whine and shudder of response from Willy. She explored the tip, too, poking her tongue at the little slit, then boldly thrusting inside for a fraction of an inch, bringing the bland honey welling forth.

His balls seemed to writhe in her hands as she sank her lips down towards the base of his shaft once again. His hips gave a convulsive thrust, forcing his cockhead past those throat barriers, and she could endure it better this time. He thrust again, and then she had to pull away for breath.

And again she plunged back down, and took his thrusts, and again, and all the time the tension in her belly was racking her nerves, and the slimy sweat in her crotch ran faster and faster, and made her itch, so that she wished she had a free hand to scratch herself.

Not that she would, of course, with them watching…

Would she?

As from a great distance, she heard Jerry's high-pitched voice excitedly exclaiming:

"Jeeze, look at her go! Look how she's eatin' that thing! That's what I want next time-how 'bout you, Tod, huh? You wanna feel them juicy lips of hers wrapped round your dong? How 'bout you, Jake? Jeeze, her tits were terrific, but I bet her mouth is the livin' end!"

It was almost like the background cheering of the crowd of fans during a football game…

Willy's pubic hair scraped coarsely against her lips and chin as she absorbed the last pulsating inch into the velvety-warm depths of her throat. The musky smell of him filled her nostrils, a sexual incense.

"All the way down, teach!" he gasped blissfully. "Christ, that feels so fuckin' good! Suck it, baby…eat it good…ah, Jesus!"

She slid her lips slowly back, releasing the steel-hard weapon fraction of an inch by fraction of an inch at a time, gasping slightly for the breath she had scarcely realized she needed, until once again only the mushroom head remained in the warm cavern formed by her mouth. And again she swirled her tongue around over the satiny skin, and probed with her tonguetip into to little oozing slit to taste the bland freshet of juice that welled forth to her summons.

So strong, the shaft that throbbed and made tiny movements as the blood pulsed through it, and the sensations she gave the head with her tantalizing tongue made the nerves jump with little tingles of excitement.

(Strange the little nerve spasms that shot through her belly and down into her crotch, as though in sympathy, increasing the itching, the sweating, until she felt she could not bear it a moment longer, that she had to do something to relieve it)