Victoria Parker - Miss hot pants schoolgirl

"Jerk me," he said.

"Okay," she whispered, and grabbed his prick.

"Yeah, honey."

"Should I do it like I did it before, sir?"

"Yes."

"But, I… are you gonna squirt all over me again?"

"Yes!"

"Ooooooh. Jeez!" she whispered, her hand gripping his cock in a velvet vise. His prick throbbed in her tiny hand. She underhanded him. She slid her hand in and out. She pumped fast.

"Yes, yes!" he said, looking down, watching her action. He reached out and plugged a finger into her cunt. "We'll masturbate each other, okay?"

"Okay."

She pumped. He fingered. They were hot. "Sir, your finger… it's… it's…"

"Good, huh?"

"Ooooh, sir, we're masturbatin' each other. Golly!"

"Feels wonderful, doesn't it?"

"Yes," she huffed.

"I love you, Missy."

"Oh, sir! What?"

"I said I love you."

She pumped harder. Faster. He came.

"Sir! Here it comes!" Missy yipped. "Oh, look! It's squirtin', sir."

"Ahhhhhhhh, honey!" he choked, cumming, feeling the vibration that he liked so much.

He fingered her hotly. He could hear the slurping sound of their hand action.

"Oh, sir. Here I come! I'm feelin' that feeling again! Oh! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

She shook. He shuddered. His cock spit wild gobs of cum at her belly. She worked hard, underhanding his cock. Her elbow was extended. Her thumb stuck out. She jerked him. It was almost as if she was shaking a pair of dice in front of her. He slugged her pussy with his finger.

They came off together. His load was hot, creamy, and he let it roll. The grabbing cream spit at her. She watched the eruption, fascinated at how she could make him shoot like she was doing.

Finally their passion subsided. They were breathless. Mr. Maxwell took his hand out.

"Guess you better wipe that goo off," he said.

Missy took the fresh, crisp hankie and worked it over her belly, thighs, her pussy, and cleaned off the thick scabs of drooping cream.

"I guess we better go to class," he said.

"Okay," she answered, pulling her panties up.

"Wait," he said. "Lemme have your panties, Missy."

"Huh?"

"I want those panties."

"I don't know what you mean."

"I can have 'em in my pocket while I lecture, and you can sit there in the front row knowing I'm playing with your panties while I'm up there in front of the class. I'll get all hot and cream my shorts."

This suggestion thrilled Missy. "Yeah, but sir. I'll have to go around without any panties on."

"Yeah, I know. Don't you love it?"

"Oooooooh, you want my panties?"

"I better not, sir."

"Here, I'll give you twenty dollars, okay?"

"Well. I guess it's okay," she said, taking the money.

She wiggled out of her panties, then handed them to Mr. Maxwell. He took the white undies and put them in his sports coat pocket.

"Sir, should we be doin' all this stuff. I mean…"

"You like it, don't you?"

"I love you. Don't you understand that? If a man loves a woman, like I love you, anything is permissible. Men and women should always have excitement in their life, Missy. That's what's wrong with most relationships, most marriages. They deteriorate into mindless, boring exercise."

"Well…"

"See, I love you, Missy. I really love you. I'd like to marry you, take you away, be with you forever."

This statement overwhelmed the darling schoolgirl.

"Jeez!" she mumbled.

In class, Mr. Maxwell paced in front of the room, his hand in the pocket of his sports coat, jiggling, playing with Missy's panties. She sat in the front row, her pink skirt riding high, all hot and gooey thinking about it, watching her teacher fondle her panties.

Midway in the class, he instructed the students to take out their texts and read silently. He went to his desk and sat down behind it.

"If anyone has a question, just raise your hand and come up here," he said. "Yes, Missy, come up here."

Missy hadn't even raised her hand, but she got up and went behind the desk with her text and stood next to Mr. Maxwell. He had his fly open and his big cock stuck out hard and wet.

He scribbled a note. It said, "Grab it."

Missy bent over at the waist, put her hands on her knees as Mr. Maxwell pretended to outline something in her text. She lightly slipped a hand off her knee and slid it over to his cock. No one could see since they were behind the desk. She fisted his prick.

He slipped her panties out of his pocket and draped them over the tip of his cock. Missy pumped the cock stalk quickly. He came. His cock bulged in her hand and he squirted a hot, thick load into her panties.

She let go quickly and walked back to her seat.

After class, Missy walked down the hall with Janet Sexton, a ravishing little student at Marlboro. Janet was a honey-blonde, a bit taller than Missy. She had a pretty face, a square chin, thin waist, plump hips, a juicy ass, and a pair of tits that bobbled under her T-shirt like two grapefruits.

They went to the girls' room to fix their faces. "God, that Mr. Maxwell is handsome, isn't he?" Janet said.

"Yes," Missy answered.

"Boy, I'd let him get in my pants anytime," Janet whispered, applying a pink lip gloss to her lips.

"You would?" Missy said. "Uh-huh?"

"Do you do that with any other teachers?"

"I've fucked the coach," Janet replied. "Really?"

"Sure, down in the locker room one day."

"Wow!" Missy said.

"You can get good grades here in this school if you know how to play it," Janet remarked.

"I'll bet."

"Let's go to class," Janet suggested. The two pretty girls walked out of the toilet, up the stairs.

Janet asked, "Are you going to the school dance tonight?"

"I think so," Missy said. "Are you?"

"Yeah, but I hate it. My dad is president of the PTA and he's always a chaperone. Jeez, I hate it. And then he always insists that he dance with me once or twice. It's so damn embarrassing."

"I guess that would be kind of a bummer," Missy said.

"Wanna go with me?" Janet asked.

"Okay, why don't I meet you here at the school at nine?"

"Sure," Missy said.

After school, Missy returned to her home with her grandma. She went upstairs and turned on her little TV and watched MTV. She watched the new Rod Stewart video, then took a nap.

She awakened and dressed for the dance. She selected a black denim, to which she added a pink sweater and a pair of pink heels. She fixed her hair in one long ponytail, banged it out on her forehead, applied thick red lipstick, some red rouge, and walked to school.

Janet was waiting for her.

A DJ from a local radio station, the DJ who had the evening show and was popular with the teens, had a mixer and turntables set up. He was playing all the latest hits. Students milled about a punch table. Several were dancing. Janet looked good too. She wore a red cotton dress and white pumps. It really made her blondeness stand out. They got a cup of punch and stood together. Janet's father came over. He was a handsome man of forty-four. He had wavy black hair. He stood over six feet. He was thin, wiry.

"Hi, honey," he said to Janet. "Should we dance?"

"Oh, Daddy. Please! Why don't you dance with my friend, Missy?"

"Well?"

"Oh, go ahead. I promised a football player a dance."

"Okay," he said.

Missy went with the handsome Mr. Sexton to the floor. The lights were dim. He took her into his arms. She pressed in close. His hand was firm on her back.

"You're very pretty," he whispered.

"Thanks, sir," Missy replied.

He pulled her closer. Her tits pressed into him. Her hips and thighs were glued to him. He got a hard-on. Missy felt the huge bulge against her. She didn't know what to do, how to react.

"Ah, mmmm," he whispered. "I guess we're dancing too close."