Message-ID: <15399eli$9809182217@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Don Winslow Subject: RP: My Teacher, My Pet, Pt. 3 (m/F, D/s) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <3.0.5.16.19980912081035.21f76c7c@nauticom.net> From: "Don Winslow" dwin2001@Yahoo.com Subect: RP {Winslow} My Teacher, My Pet Pt. 3 (m/F, D/s) Newsgroups: alt. sex stories. moderated, alt. sex stories My Teacher, My Pet Don Winslow Part 3 That was how it started. With the good-looking blond teacher, without a stitch of clothes on, on her knees, dutifully sucking her smug self-satisfied student's prick, paying lavish tribute to that lust-swollen, surging, young cock; going down on him as he watched her vigorously bobbing head, his hands clamping her naked shoulders; hungrily sucking on his tautly erected penis while she clutched him and held him by the bucking hips. For Keith, that long hot summer uncoiled in boring, languid days that blended together, punctuated by a few hours of wild, unbelievable sex each Saturday. Now, only Saturdays mattered. He lived only for Saturdays. Each night, sweating in a tangle of sheets in his hot stuffy bedroom, he clutched his straining manhood and jacked off, thinking of Saturday, and what he would do to his teacher. He began to arrive at her place early, and he stayed until late into the night. And he would take the young teacher again and again, in every possible way, fucking her at first with the sheer animal urgency of pent-up lust, desperately trying to satisfy that burning itch, the voracious longing they both had built up for each other over the long, agonizing week. He could be a rough lover, savage when his blood was up, grabbing her legs and viciously spreading her open in a heated rush, lunging in to penetrate her in a single brutal thrust, as she fling her blond mane about on the sheets, and whimpered and moaned, and pleaded for more. And then after the first fever had subsided, his powerful penis drained of a week's worth of raging lust, her hungry loins satiated for the moment, the throbbing quiver in her womb subsiding bit by bit, then they would fall into a more languid lovemaking, a simmering passion that kept her tingling all the day, as the healthy young stud raised and let fall her burgeoning sensuality, playing the 34 year old woman's helpless body with the instinctive sureness of a masterly musician. And then the Summer ended, and with it the need to cut the grass; but Keith continued to leave home each Saturday morning, muttering some vague excuse in the direction of his uncaring mother, when he even bothered at all. His mother had long ago given up on him. Keith liked seeing his teacher naked. One day he told her she was to greet him wearing nothing but her high heels and panties...and she did it! Opening the door to let him in, just as he wanted her. It gave Melissa a quiet thrill of pride. She savored the delicious wickedness of those illicit hours, the sense of danger, the exciting anticipation of wild and kinky sex. She realized now what she had been denying herself for so very long. It was sex she needed; the kind of raw, raunchy sex she got only at the hands of her surprisingly masterful young stud. For Keith had unerringly found the right buttons to turn his pretty teacher on. He seemed to instinctively know that she was one of those women who loved to be "forced" to have sex, her kind of sex, sweaty, raw animal sex, the dirtier the better. He made her ask for it, beg for it, insisting she use the dirty words she secretly loved to whisper in the throes of passion. She found she loved this down and dirty sex. She was insatiable, wanting to wallow in sex like a whore, and Keith was pleased to force her to do just that. He kept the woman naked for the entire day from early morning, till late at night. He could never get enough of the sight of her lithe nude body as she moved around the house, doing the most mundane chores, making him lunch in the kitchen in nothing but her shoes, and the apron tied around her waist. The apron came off when they sat down to eat, for he enjoyed the sight of his bare-breasted teacher, as she sat across from him, having lunch at her kitchen table. And even after they had made mad, fierce love, and their passions were spent, the gnawing sexual hunger temporarily satisfied, even then he still wouldn't allow her to get dressed, insisting instead that she snuggle next to him on the couch, her naked body pressed against his, so he might sling an arm around her shoulders, and leisurely toy with those delightfully wobbly breasts of hers. Or if he was feeling frisky that day, he might have her sit opposite him on the large overstuffed chair, urging her to lean back, open her legs, and drape them, in widespread invitation, over the arms of the big chair. It was a deliciously wanton pose he had long fantasized about: his teacher sitting with her blond-furred womanhood on open display, completely exposed to him, those long white legs dangling loosely over the padded arms of the chair, bulging vulva stretched open before him, the petals of her hidden flower an open secret. He had her pull back the folds of her outerlips to reveal the labia, ragged pink lips still closed protectively, the coral pink flesh of that feminine flower surrounded by tiny curlings of pubic hair that shaded her splayed crotch. He knew it thrilled her, made her unbelievably hot -- to be exposed like that. He could tell from the way her breathing deepened, the flattened cones of her breasts rising and falling in deep undulations. Her pinkish aureoles had expanded into wide tight disks, the nipples hardening like tiny little berries. She closed her eyes and her naked bottom squirmed excitedly on the flowered cushion of the chair. He made her play with herself while she held that pose, insisting that she masturbate in front of him, to show him how she did it. Her long blond lashes were lowered prettily as she looked out at him through slitted eyes, and her hand came up to his bidding and play with her exposed pussy. Keith felt a renewed rush of passion and his rejuvenated prick stirred with new life, as he saw the hot blonde writhing and palming her vulva, fingering her sex while she squirmed in sexual heat in that big cushioned chair. She slipped her two fingers down along the protruding lips of her sex and pried back the petals, to hold herself open with fingers pressing back the dark pink lips of her cunt. "Go on..play with yourself," he urged in a heated whisper, thrilled beyond belief by the searing eroticism of the act. He watched, totally captivated, as her hand moved slid down to cover her cunt, and she started rubbing her palm down over her pubic mound, twisting her shoulders as she palmed her lightly furred vulva in a deep, slow, sensual massage. Her fingers played along the centerline, teasing over the pouting pussylips, the fingertips rubbing, pressing, slipping into the slick inner flesh. He watched her press into the cowl of flesh at the very top of the lips, where the hidden pearl of her clitoris lay in wait. She fingered herself there, plucking a delicate pizzicato, rubbing the little nubbin with a fluttery finger. "Fuck yourself, teacher," he ordered brutally. "Stick your finger up your cunt...and fuck yourself!" Melissa closed her eyes and her shoulders surged forward as she slipped her middle finger into her hot wet slot, curving it up from her cupped palm, to penetrate her vagina with her stiffened middle finger. Her hips thrust forward and a plaintive moan escaped her lips. "Fuck yourself!.. Fuck yourself!... FUCK YOURSELF! he urged hotly, his control slipping away as he jammed his hand down the front of his pants to grab his aching prick, desperate to find some sort of relief. Her hips were rocking now, and the passion-driven girl hunched forward, then threw back her silky hair, as she brought a second finger into play. Immediately, she slipped a third curled finger up to join the other two, and now she sat on the very edge cushioned seat, three fingers jammed up her glistening wet cunt, her wrist jiggling in a flurry of motion as the sensual blonde writhed in surging passion, finger fucking herself at the command of the lusty young man who owned her, body and soul. ****** It was all so unreal. Keith found himself living in two separate worlds. Of course, the two lovers couldn't help seeing each other at school during the week. And even though, during the Fall semester, Keith was no longer taking classes from his favorite English teacher, their paths would still occasionally cross in the hallways, coming and going from class. And when they passed in the halls, he would smile blandly and greet her with a "Good morning, Ms. Parker" -- ever the model student, respectful and polite. She acknowledged his greeting with a social smile of her own, and nodded her blond head, before lowering her eyes to hurry off at a quickened pace, heels clicking down the hallway, while he grinned at her rapidly retreating figure. If the other guys noticed anything unusual between him and the English teacher, they would have shrugged it off. They would never had believed it, had they known the real story. From time to time, he actually toyed with the idea of telling a few of the guys. It was hard not to, especially when one of those loud mouths started bragging about what he'd do to satisfy their man-less and obviously horny English teacher. But Keith just smiled to himself. No, they would have never believed him anyway. The wild thought even occurred to him, that maybe someday he'd grandly invite a few of them over to Melissa's house some Saturday, and then have their beautiful teacher greet them at the door in nothing but her pink panties. He could only imagine the look on their faces! He smiled at the thought of sharing Melissa with them, of making his hot teacher take off her clothes and forcing her to have sex with three horny, well-hung guys. But he never seriously entertained that idea. He concluded he really didn't want to share Melissa with anyone. It might have been different if Keith had had even one close friend, a buddy he could confide in, someone he could trust. But Keith had always been a loner, and in the end, he wanted his magnificent prize to be his, and his alone. So he ignored their bragging, and their endless speculation about the shape of Melissa's tits, and the feel of her ass, and what her pussy must look like, and what a hot piece she must be in bed; he kept his incredible secret to himself. In time, Keith learned to compartmentalize his life. In his mind, he kept the trim and proper English teacher firmly tucked away at school, while letting himself savor the searing memory of the sex-crazed blonde wildly tearing at his clothes in her eagerness to get her hands on his muscular body, when he finally smiled down at her, grinning and nodding his permission. Then, quite unexpectedly, the boundaries began to bleed over into each other. It all started one day at school, as he caught sight of Melissa striding purposely across the tiled floor towards the library. She was wearing the glasses she sometimes wore for reading, and she cradled an armful of books pressed to her bosom. She looked delicious in that loose silvery blouse with the wide sleeves and the straight narrow skirt that layered the promising curve of her lovely behind; Keith felt a familiar stirring in his pants. He was always cheered by the sight of those attractive legs in their sheer black pantyhose, and an idea began to form in his mind. He hung around outside the library for a few minutes, hiding behind a pillar near the entrance. He watched her through the double glass doors as she chatted with Ms DeTour, the librarian, and when she emerged, relieved of her load of books, he boldly stepped in front of her. Startled, she drew back. Her brown eyes, behind the disks of those rimless glasses, widened at seeing her secret lover suddenly appear, to stand brazenly blocking her way. "Oh..It's you, I..." "Hello, Ms Parker," Keith purred, flashing her his best boyish charm. "You look real nice today." "Well...uh..thank you , Keith," she stammered flustered and uncertain. A quick shiver of fear ran through her. Now he leaned closer, and dropped his voice to enclose only the two of them in his conspiracy. "I want you dressed like this when I come over. Just like this," he added for emphasis. Then, before she could react, he spun on his heel, leaving his speechless teacher standing there, her mouth open as she watched him disappear around the corner. END OF PART 3 Copyright 1998, Don Winslow -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----