Mark Carver - Ravaged music teacher

While Buzz Watkins grimly thought about taking his sexy daughter's hot little cherry, a cherry that disappeared long ago in a frantic, sweating tangle with her math teacher, his lusty wife was also pondering the same problem. She wasn't so sure Sylvia was a cherry, though. Nevertheless, having had torrid sex with the bookstore owner's daughter, Buzz's wife now had a smoldering hunger for hot young pussy, and especially for her lusciously curved daughter, Sylvia.

Not only were Buzz and his wife thinking feverishly about Sylvia at this moment. Julie Mason, who was now sucking on a thick young cock in her apartment, recalled her wild clash with Sylvia that afternoon. Even as the boy's hot jism spurted in her greedy throat, Julie couldn't get the delicious taste of Sylvia's sweet young cunt out of her mind. Had she done right by the sexy blonde? Had the music teacher done everything she possibly could to turn the juicy schoolgirl on to her wanton brand of sex so that she'd come back again and again for more?

Julie needn't have worried about that. She'd done such a thorough job of masturbating and cunt-sucking and sixty-nining with the passionate blonde that Sylvia couldn't even begin to concentrate on her homework tonight. She felt hot and sexy and restless, desperately wanting a girl to turn on to. Sylvia picked up the phone, her eyes gleaming.

Beneath the quiet surface of the small, sleepy town, all hell was about to break loose.

Ever since she had left her music teacher, the delicious hot glow in her pussy sent tingles to every inch of her silky flesh, and Sylvia Watkins could hardly contain herself. It was as if she'd just discovered a fantastic, new and exclusive secret about sex. Sylvia's sex glands hummed away like a lusty dynamo – a restless throbbing hunger that craved constant action. Naturally horny to begin with, her first experience with a hot, sultry woman sparked an immediate desire for more.

Sylvia went home to an empty house. Her father was on duty, alert for dope-smoking pervert kinkos. Her mother was only Christ knew where. Sylvia suspected her mother was fucking around, and she hoped her mother would be damned careful. Both feared Buzz Watkins' violent temper.

Sylvia made herself two huge sandwiches and wolfed them down with a glass of milk. Wild sex always made her ferociously hungry. Then the blonde took a long, hot bath and tried to concentrate on her homework.

She gave that up as impossible after just ten minutes. Her mind could only see Julie Mason's lush tits and burning, wet thighs. In spite of her tender age, Sylvia had a knack for immediate decision.

She flung aside her notebook and picked up the phone. Fifteen minutes later she hung up, a deep excitement racing through her blood.

One of her closest friends was another teenager, a slender, dark-haired girl with huge, lustrous eyes and a sweet, ripe mouth. The girl, Cindy, had a crush on Sylvia. There was nothing sexual in the crush, at least so far. Cindy shyly admired Sylvia's brassy tactics with boys and adults both. She had a bashful, mousy personality in spite of her pretty face and budding figure.

Cindy was a cherry.

Sylvia knew this for a fact, because Cindy confessed she was saving it for her wedding night. She was that simple, and that sweet.

The girl was coming over in a few minutes to help Sylvia with her homework. The blonde had terrible grades, while Cindy was very smart. But that depended, Sylvia thought slyly, on what subject you were smart about. Cindy didn't know her pussy from an apple fritter when it came to sex. On that subject, Sylvia was doing post-graduate work.

Sylvia wore a T-shirt and jeans, stark naked underneath. As usual, Cindy wore a dress. Cindy almost always wore a dress, because it made her feel properly feminine.

Both girls settled on Sylvia's bed in her room, with a stack of books. Cindy did not smoke, but she always watched Sylvia puff with fascination.

"The world is divided into chickenshit watchers and brave doers," Sylvia told her, casually blowing smoke in Cindy's face. "You want to be a chickenshit all your life, Cindy?"

The dark-haired girl smiled shyly. "I don't mind. Honest, Sylvia. I guess I'm a mouse."

"Yeah," Sylvia giggled, "but a cute mouse. A sexy mouse. I'm an alley cat." With the hottest mouth and pussy in town, Sylvia added silently. Looking at someone like Cindy was now tremendously arousing to the blonde schoolgirl. They'd known each other since they were brats playing together. But for the first time, Sylvia noticed how ripe and sensuous Cindy's lips were, how luscious her tits looked filling out her dress, what smooth, silky skin she had on her slender legs.

Because Sylvia had always been the dominant one, she could talk Cindy into doing almost anything but double-dating with her and having sex with boys. She could not get her to smoke, either.

But she could trick her.

"Hey, that's a neat dress," Sylvia said, fingering the material. "Can I try it on?" "You're heavier than I am," Cindy said doubtfully. "Okay, but don't split the seams."

Quickly, the girl stripped out of her dress, while Sylvia took her T-shirt and jeans off. Cindy wore a white bra and panties. Her dark curly nest of cunt-hairs was visible through her sheer panties. Sylvia had only wanted to get her halfway naked. Now for the hard part.

"Listen," Sylvia said, talking fast the way she did whenever she wanted to persuade Cindy against her will, "I got this dumb psychology test coming up. I've got to tie someone down for a couple of minutes to get their reactions – see? Only for two minutes, Cindy, okay?"

Cindy shook her head, baffled. "Say that again?"

Patiently, Sylvia repeated it, gesturing at her bed. She hadn't bothered to put Cindy's dress on and she was stark naked, her tawny tits panting softly. As she expected, Cindy resisted at first. The blonde began to fire her complete arsenal of emotional tricks. She cajoled, coaxed, demanded, even threatened not to talk to Cindy anymore. Tears filled the shy girl's eyes.

Whenever Sylvia got like this, Cindy just couldn't refuse her. Except for sex with boys and smoking, of course. What Sylvia now wanted seemed weird, but harmless enough to Cindy.

Nervously, Cindy lay back on the bed. Earlier, when she'd been plotting, Sylvia had cut some lengths of clothesline. She also got her mother's vibrator from its hiding place, in the bathroom towel cabinet. Sylvia frequently borrowed it when her mother was out of the house. It was nine inches long, tapered, with thick ridges along the lower half.

Sylvia wondered more than once if any women ever actually used them for their complexions. She figured there were millions of women around the country fucking themselves furiously every night with vibrators. She also wondered curiously what women used before vibrators came along. Candles – bananas – cucumbers? While pumping fingers were the old standard, you just couldn't convince yourself a puny finger was a huge cock when you were feverishly masturbating.

"Now you just trust me, Cindy, 'cause this is only gonna take a minute or two," said Sylvia, tying her friend's wrists and ankles securely to the bedposts. The blonde opened the drawer of her bedside table. Inside was the vibrator and a roll of wide adhesive tape, and scissors.

"If you tickle me, I'll hate you forever!" Cindy told her, straining slightly at her bonds. She trusted Sylvia, even though her best friend was a little crazy. That's why Cindy adored her, because she did such wild things so casually, while Cindy was so timid and shy.

Sylvia turned her back on the bound girl while she quickly cut off a strip of adhesive tape. She moved fast, suddenly pressing the strip down hard over Cindy's mouth.

Cindy's eyes grew wide and she issued a muffled scream. She jerked helplessly at the cords.