Message-ID: <16664eli$9810180531@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: sundance69@hotmail.com (Sundance Tales) Subject: {Sundance Tales} NEW! (Updated) "Teacher's Pet" [m/f,teen,rom,cons - 1 of 6] Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.stories.erotic 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: <3630a2b7.3775020@enews.newsguy.com> 'Teacher's Pet' (Updated - First posting was wrong version) Part 1 of 6 by Sundance Copyright, 1998 : All Rights Reserved First Published: 9/29/98 Comments and Criticisms are ALWAYS Appreciated. Send them to sundance69@hotmail.com Missing pieces? Look at http://extra.newsguy.com/~suntales +==================+Now the disclaimer +==============+ The following is a work of total fiction. The characters, names, and places are all products of my imagination and any resemblance to anybody or anything, living or dead, is purely coincidental. This story contains potentially obscene terms and sexually explicit content that some may find to be offensive. If such material offends you, or if you are under 18 years old, you have the option to stop now and not continue reading. By continuing to read you are making the following legal statement: I am over 18, I want to view a list of potentially obscene terms, and it is legal for me to view potentially obscene terms in my community, state, nation, province, or commune. One last caveat. This story involves descriptions of consensual sexual encounters between teen males and females (17 years old) and between teen girls (again 17 years old) and an older man. If such situations offend you, it's likely this story will offend you. If you're not sure... STOP now ... Delete this text ... This isn't being forced on you. +==================+Now the disclaimer +==============+ Chapter I - "Today is the First Day of the Rest of Your Life" "Push!… CMON!…PUSH!!!!," the muscle bound man screamed from atop the pedestal. Kenton Darian, or Kent as his friends called him, made one last effort, pushing with all of his might to drive the barbell from his chest. The weight climbed slowly, stalled, and was not to move again until the muscle man nudged it allowing the lift to be completed. Kent slammed the barbell into the metal stirrups with an ear-shattering clang. He paused, staring at the ceiling, sweat streaming down his brow and burning his eyes, his fatigued muscles begging for mercy. With a rocking motion, he leaned forward, stood, and turned to face the aggressor who had been shouting at him from above. "Good lift," the bulky companion complimented. "Thanks," answered Kent, as he stood facing the wall-sized mirror, perspiring and out of breath. The result of his countless hours in the gym shined brightly in the mirror's reflection. His shoulders, chest, and arms were flushed with blood and veins protruded like small tunnels under his skin. He made a half-turn to the side making more noticeable the medium-thick muscle mass layered like clay atop his otherwise average 5'11 frame. He flexed his pectorals from beneath his oversized tank-top and a tiny rippling wave started at the lower edge near his ribs and rolled upwards towards his neck. Both men watched with a critical eye as Kent rotated his forearms causing his already prominent biceps to stand at attention powered by what looked like steel bands connecting his upper arm to his lower. He completed his progress assessment by pulling up the drenched material of his shirt and flexing his abdominal region. Like a washboard the muscles gritted back at him in the mirror, barely hidden by only a trace of body fat. "This extended vacation of yours has been good to you," commented the muscleman as Kent let down his shirt. "You're really buffing out. I can't believe how much progress you've made in such a short period of time. Especially for an older dude." "Thanks," Kent replied, smiling at his training partner's sarcasm. "Ya know, I wish I could take that kind of time off," continued the muscleman. "How long has it been, 6 months? I'd go National if I had that kind of time to workout and diet." "Hey, you could do it. You've sure got the genetics for it." The muscleman beamed at Kent's acknowledgement. In some ways the muscleman was right, in that the physique staring back at Kent from the mirror's reflection bore little resemblance to the figure that stared back less than a year before. Beyond that, it would be wasted time trying to explain the difference between a sabbatical and a vacation, nor that 35 years of age didn't exactly categorize Kent as an 'older dude'. For that he'd just take the compliment and move on. It been just under 7 months since Kent had made the decision to start a new life, but who besides the muscleman was really counting. Securities trading had certainly been lucrative, providing Kent with wealth beyond his dreams, prestige, and a lifestyle usually reserved for movie stars. However, much like show business, that luxury came with a price; a price Kent was tired of paying. He had his fill of the ultra-competitive work environment, the impossible clients, the ever rising quotas and the wear and tear on his health. He knew he had left that job and that lifestyle for good, even though his boss made him call his leave a sabbatical. It really didn't make a difference. He wasn't going back. Wasting no time, he rented out his apartment in the city, arranged to have the majority of his possessions moved into storage and traveled west to stay with his older brother Ethan. Ethan and Kent had always been close and Ethan was well aware of his brother's growing dissatisfaction with his life and his chosen vocation. He had actually helped Kent to make the final decision to leave and start over, offering him the use of his guest bedroom for as long as he needed to rethink his priorities and establish a new direction in his life. For quite some time Kent enjoyed his new found freedom, sleeping in late, spending his mornings in the gym and his afternoons on the beach watching the surfers ride the waves and the girls stroll by in their dental floss bikinis. But with school back in session, the beaches were now practically empty. While he complimented the muscleman on his ability to grow to superhuman proportions, Kent had reached the limit of his physical fitness goals and was spending less and less time in the gym. It was getting harder to fill the days and he was growing more restless by the moment realizing that, while he could afford it, a career in loafing was not a long-term proposition. Grabbing his towel from the bench, Kent thanked the muscleman again for the spot and made his way to the locker room. His normal routine involved exactly fifteen minutes for showering and dressing, but today was different. Today it would take a bit longer. Today everything needed to be 'just right'. Finished with his shower and his dressing, he tied the shoelaces on his casual dress shoes and moved to the mirror for one last check. Everything appeared to be in tact. The crease and pleats in his new Khaki pants were exactly straight. He turned his back to the mirror, looking over his shoulder to ensure his button down Polo was tucked in and even, pausing to notice the 'V' like taper that was formed when his broad shoulders narrowed to his thirty-two inch waist. Facing forward once again, he folded the cuffs of his shirt to a mid-point of his muscular forearm and turned his square jaw from side to side, making sure there were no traces of soap or unshaven areas on his tanned complexion. "This is as good as it's going to get," his last words, already feeling the butterflies forming in the pit of his stomach anticipating the day ahead. Grabbing his gym bag from the bench, he made his way out of the locker room and towards the front of the gym, bidding farewell to the muscleman as he left. There were a group of young women gathered at the juice bar, all very 'fit' and all in various forms of color coordinated spandex. One noticed Kent on his way out and whispered something to the others. They all turned in his direction just as he made his way towards the door, recognizing him from his earlier workout. He smiled and nodded as he passed. They all smiled back. He liked this physical fitness thing, that much he was sure of. He pushed open the door and exited on to the street. His 1-year old Porsche Boxster, the last indication of the yuppie lifestyle he had left behind, was still parked in its special spot, directly in front of the gymnasium where it could be monitored at all times from would-be vandals. The car was bright red and immaculate, with a shine that looked like he started each day with a wax job. He still remembers the look on the dealer's face when he confirmed, yes, he would pay cash… all $75,000. Opening the door of the sports car, he tossed in his gym bag and took a seat behind the wheel, double checking his front pocket to ensure he still had the scrap of paper scrawled with the address of his appointment. Turning the key, the engine started with a growl. Kent smiled to himself, looking over the leather-lined steering wheel. It was a sunny day. Kent Darian was looking good, feeling good, and as he put on his sunglasses and slammed the car in gear, he thought out loud to himself… "What a perfect day to start a new life" +++++ Jenna Slater and Emily Naughton pulled into the student body parking lot, with Jenna driving. Today was better than most days, with an empty spot visible as soon as they turned in. The car secured, Jenna folded down the visor to peer into the vanity mirror and make the final adjustments to her make-up before exiting and heading to school. As usual, Emily didn't bother, but instead just grabbed her books and camera and waited outside for her friend to finish her ritual primping. Clearly not sisters, an outsider glancing at these two arriving in the same car might wonder what they were doing together, outside of the old saying that opposites attract. They were clearly very different people and it was made obvious by appearances alone. In truth, had they not grown up together, they might not be friends today. But they had, meeting one another at the tender age of 5 and remaining close friends ever since. Jenna was in every way the high school socialite. She was gorgeous, outgoing, with long blonde hair, ocean blue eyes, and a trim athletic body. She thrived on attention and couldn't stand to be left out of the spotlight, even for a second. She was captain of the girl's tennis team, ranked number two in the ranks of female players in the state, was homecoming queen, dated the cutest guy in school, and was rumored to be a shoe-in for class president. The running joke around campus was why even hold an election. Instead, just hand the title to Jenna, as she seemed to have everything else. Emily, in contrast, was in many ways the opposite. She was much shyer than her friend was and not nearly as interested in the social circuits or the limelight. Actually, on the surface, Emily wasn't interested in too many things except school and photography. When she wasn't studying, she was tutoring in the math lab. When not doing either of those, she was snapping photos, sequestered in the dark room, or preparing for the next 'Shutterbugs' photography club meeting. Where Jenna left a string of broken hearts in her wake, Emily had been on only one date in her entire life and that evening consisted of few more than two words spoken over a lazy meal at Denny's. The boy never called again. It wasn't that Emily was so much less attractive than Jenna, but rather the lack of interest she had in her own femininity. Where Jenna would wear short skirts and tight tops that accented her budding figure, Emily would hide hers under a series of loose, one-piece dresses that covered her form from head to toe. Emily's long red hair, certainly more unique than Jenna's and every bit as attractive, largely went unnoticed, bound to her head in a bun style more appropriate for a senior citizen. Emily's Mother was growing concerned over her daughter's solitude nature and what she thought she detected as a sense of increasing loneliness. Her ex-husband, Emily's Father, would try and convince her not to worry, assuring her that Emily would come into her own in due time. Still, she would drop subtle hints to Emily, even though her daughter seldom seemed to listen. "Why don't you try on this outfit," her Mother would ask when they were out shopping, grabbing something from a rack that looked more like what she saw the other girls Emily's age wearing. "Just try it on before you make up your mind. It shows a little skin," she would tease with a wink. "Would have those boys knocking down your door." "I don't think so, Mom," was Emily's usual reply. "Besides, who cares about all that. I've got more important things to worry about than impressing a bunch of horny boys." In truth, it was Emily who was starting to care about all that, even though she would never admit it out loud. She wasn't interested in attracting waves of male attention like her friend Jenna, but her Mother was right in that she was getting lonely sitting home every Friday and Saturday night. She wondered if she would ever know what it really felt like to French kiss a boy, to lavish in the excitement of shopping for a prom dress, to hold hands in the halls so that everybody would know that Emily Janine Naughton was worthy of a boy's affections. She wanted to know what it was like to have that same boy touch her; touch her the way she would touch herself -- at night -- after everybody else was asleep. Someday she would find a boy who would accept her for who she was. She just wondered how long it would take for that someday to arrive. +++++ The car secured, the girls exited and started to make their way towards campus. There was a group of boys standing next to a car watching intently as Jenna passed by. "Hi Jenna," one of the boys called out in a flirtatious voice. "How are YOU today" "I'm fine, Billy," she smiled and kept walking. She could feel the boy's eyes undressing her as she walked. "You're certainly looking FINE today, Jenna," the boy called out again. She just looked back over her shoulder one last time and flashed him a knowing smile. His friends gathered near him started laughing and shoving him from side to side as if to congratulate him on actually getting an acknowledgement. Such greetings were a common part of Jenna's daily routine, particularly when she wore her short tennis outfit that accented her athletic thighs and tight round behind. She knew there were few males in the school, including the dirty old man principal, who would let her walk by wearing that skirt without saying hello or stopping to strike up some conversation. In actual fact, if she wasn't receiving her quota of attention, she would be sure and where that skirt, even on non-practice days. That outfit seemed to be some type of pheromone, calling males in from miles around. Today she had tennis practice. Today she would get lots of attention. The girls neared the crosswalk to the crowd of kids waiting to head into school. Emily held a hand above her brow using it as a visor to shield her eyes from the sun and watched for the light to change. Jenna stood talking and answering questions about tennis and the upcoming election with the other girls around her. Eventually Jenna's words trailed off, her attentions drawn to the bright red sports car waiting at the stoplight. "Wow, look at that hunk," Jenna whispered, leaning over to Emily. "Nice car too." Emily turned her visor in the direction of the sports car, then to the driver. He was very attractive, that was for sure. He looked very much like a yuppie, with dark hair that was styled back using some type of gel. His look was completed with expensive, dark, fashionable sunglasses. His fingers tapped on the car door as he waited for the light to change. "Yeah, he's cute," Emily replied, "but way too old for you," and then she paused. "Hey wait a minute…. That's the guy that just moved in across the street from my Mom's house. He moved in several months ago." "Really," Jenna's interest obviously peaked. "So you know him," an increased urgency in her voice. "No, I don't know him, but I've seen him around. Why are you interested anyway? You've got Dirk, remember?" That part about Jenna really irritated Emily. She wasn't even happy dating the cutest boy in school. She always seemed on the prowl. "Yeah, I remember Dirk," Jenna moaned. "But Dirk is just a boy. That, my dear… that's a man." The girls started to cross the walk in front of the car and Jenna continued to stare in the direction of the hunky driver until she was sure she made eye contact. She held her gaze on him until there was no doubt he was looking back. He eventually smiled, and gave her a half wave, and then turned away, facing straight ahead to the stoplight. Jenna continued to look in his direction, expecting him to look back again, to stare her down like all the men -- but he didn't. He just looked straight ahead and waited for the light to change. "Well what's up with that?" Jenna whined in an irritated voice. "I mean I was giving him the eye and everything and he didn't even look back very long. He must be gay or something." Emily just rolled her eyes. Such a comment was so typical of Jenna. What did she expect? The guy was just going to throw the car in park and run over and hump her leg? Kent watched the young hardbody cross the street in front of his car, staring and wiggling outrageously. "I don't think I know you little darling," he commented out loud to himself, "but you're sure working hard to get some attention." He did his best at pretending to be disinterested in Jenna, staring at the light as if waiting to begin a drag race. When he was sure she wouldn't notice, he glanced back in her direction and watched the movement of her tight little behind as it rocked back and forth below the short tennis skirt. As he watched her walk he felt a stirring, a stirring he knew he shouldn't be feeling staring at such an obvious example of jailbait -- especially at a time like this. He glanced to the sign several hundred feet ahead which helped to snap him out of his brief fantasy. 'Welcome to Canyon High School - Home of the Championship Coyotes' "I sure don't remember the girls in my high school looking that good. Must be something in the water," his final thoughts as the light changed. The light now green, he shifted the car in gear, driving another block until he saw the sign saying 'Faculty Parking Next Right'. He slowed the Boxster and turned in, double-checking his scrap of paper to ensure he was in the right place. He exited the vehicle and followed the signs to the office. Stepping in, the middle-aged women who tended the administrative desk stopped what they were doing. Two began to approach the desk simultaneously, but one was quicker, and made it to Kent first. He took off his glasses and greeted the dark haired woman with silver tints. "Hi, I'm Kenton Darian. I am substituting temporarily for a," and he glanced at his paper. "A Mr. Sullivan. Algebra 1A and 1B, I believe." "Why yes Mr. Darian," the older woman giggled, using her fingers to part the opening of her top revealing a series of out-of-date gold chains draped across a wrinkled cleavage. "We've been expecting you. Do you have your paperwork certifying you as a qualified substitute?" "Yes, it's right here. It shows that I have a Bachelor's degree in Business Administration and a Masters in Finance, as well as the results of my Emergency Teaching exam. Also, please call me Kent." "Alright Kent," she giggled again, glancing back to the other women who watched intently their opening conversation. "Yes Kent, everything seems to be in order. Here is an envelope with keys to the classroom and other information. You'll need to complete the forms in here and drop them off later this afternoon. I'll just jot my number on the outside here and you can call me ANYTIME with any questions. Ok?" Kent didn't respond as he watched the woman write her number down. "The classroom is straight down this hall and to the right. You can't miss it." "Thank you, " and Kent leaned closer to read the name tag on the woman's blouse, "Thank you very much, Doris." "Oh, you're VERY WELCOME," and she giggled again. Kent turned and made his way out the door and down to the classroom to get prepared for his first class. The moment of truth was approaching. +++++ Jenna and Emily closed the metal doors of their adjacent lockers and started towards their first class. As they walked through the crowded hall, Jenna felt a hand sliding up her short skirt and against her panties. She turned around quickly, ready to deck the geek. It wasn't often one of these 'children' had the guts to actually touch her, but it happened occasionally. Unfortunately, for the poor soul who had a lapse in judgement, he would be lucky if he lived down the day the captain of the female tennis team almost knocked him out cold. Jenna spun around and bumped into the chest of her boyfriend, Dirk. Dirk Sanders stood about an even 6 feet tall and was a big kid, but then the fullback of the Championship Coyotes needed to be a big kid. She looked up to see his face and realized it was his hand exploring her privates. She slugged him in the chest, clearly not impressed by his public advances. "You JERK!" He held up his arms in defense. "I told you before, don't touch me like that in public!" "Gaaa.. Jenna… You know what wearing that tennis skirt does to me. I just couldn't help myself," and he grinned. "Besides, it was just a joke." "Yeah, well go joke off with somebody else." No doubt about it, Dirk irritated Jenna. However, he WAS the cutest boy in school, not to mention the fact that his father was made of money, which meant Dirk could afford to keep Jenna entertained. She had learned to overlook his annoying behavior, not to mention his less than spectacular performance between the sheets. She used to joke that Dirk was 'the poster boy for the size doesn't count campaign'. While he had a lean body and a thick, manly cock to go with it, he barely knew how to use it. He might move with the grace of a ballet dancer on the football field, but in bed he bumped around like a blind man in rush hour traffic, quick on the draw and always grappling at Jenna's body like her Mom tests the melons at the local market. "I'm sorry. Come here baby," and Dirk pulled the small-framed girl close to him. They hadn't walked ten steps before Dirk was at it again. "Hey, I've got an idea. Why don't we skip class today? My Mom is out of town for the week and left me the key to her house. We would have the whole place to ourselves." "Sheez Dirk, are you in heat?" Emily interrupted. It seemed lately that Dirk couldn't get near Jenna without practically molesting her. Emily knew puberty was an active time for young guys, but this Neanderthal gave new meaning. As usual, he ignored Emily and her comment. "I don't think so," Jenna replied unenthusiastically. "I've got a test later today and have to be back for that." "Oh baby… Please…" Dirk continued to beg. "You know I've got the big game later this week and I always practice better when we've… you know… been together." "I've had enough," Emily sighed in disgust. "Jenna, I'll see you later this afternoon. I'll take the usual notes for you in Algebra. You two knock yourselves out. Bye poster boy," and she made a sharp right turn disappearing into her classroom. Dirk stared at Jenna with a confused look. "What did she call me?" Jenna's ability to hide her annoyance was getting harder and was just about to dismiss Dirk with instructions to leave her alone and find himself a Playboy and a bottle of lotion when she stopped herself. "Mustn't be too hasty here," she mumbled under her breath. "Did you say something," Dirk asked, leaning closer. "Was that a yes?" Acting as if her annoyance with Dirk was a distant memory, she turned to him, the sweetest smile she had to offer plastered across her face. She leaned into his chest with her firm breasts. "Listen sweetie," she whispered. "I really do have to be here for that test later, but," and she looked around to ensure nobody was listening. "Have you still got that key to the equipment room Coach Slaughter loaned you?" "Yeah, why?" "Well… I was just thinking… Maybe we could go hide in there together. You're the only one who has a key, right? It could be our secret. Kind of exciting in a naughty way, don't you think?" "There's no place to lay down in there Jenna," Dirk muttered with a confused look on his face. "No silly. Nobody says we need to lie down. This is about making YOU feel good before practice this afternoon. What do you say? I'll even cut my next class. I hate Geography anyway. I'll still be around for my test." She could see the wheels turning in Dirk's thick skull. She figured if she listened closely, she might even hear them grinding. "Well…I guess so," Dirk finally answered and he led her by the hand in the direction of the gymnasium. The halls were starting to empty out now as the various students filed into their respective classrooms. Dirk and Jenna reached the equipment room and Dirk looked in both directions as he jimmied the key in the lock. He opened the door and reached up to the string hanging down that controlled the indoor light. The light on, Jenna stepped inside and pulled closed the door behind them. The room smelled of must and rubber, certainly not the most romantic of locations, but romance wasn't on Jenna's mind. She had entirely different intentions regarding their little rendezvous. She sat down her books and took Dirk's books out of his hands and placed them next to hers. "Now, you just make yourself comfortable," pushing him back to lean on the shelf that held a variety of sporting goods from basketballs to wrestling ear guards. She looked up in his eyes as she ran her hands down his t-shirt. She realized again to herself what a great body he had. Too bad it wasn't a complete package. "You just relax baby," she purred. His breathing was already heavy and her hands rose and fell against his chest with each exhale. She moved slowly down to his belt and pulled it with one hand out from the loop. Tugging hard, she released the clasp and let the two ends of the leather dangle towards the floor. Dirk watched her fingers as they unfastened his 501 jeans, one brass button after another. The buttons finally undone, she looked back up at him and smiled as she spread open the heavy denim flaps. She eased her fingers into the band of his underwear and thrust her hand downward until she felt her palm cross the mound of flesh still stuffed inside. He twitched for a moment as her long fingernails grazed the sensitive skin. "I'm sorry, am I hurting you?" she whispered, an exaggerated sound of concern in her voice. "Here, I have a better idea. You just pull those nasty old pants down so you can be comfortable." Dirk obliged, grabbing the sides and working his jeans down until they were just above his knees. His cock was at half-mast. Jenna looked down at him, then back up into his eyes with a hungry smile. She used her fingernails to lightly graze his length, giggling as she watched him grow. It was like a strange magic trick where she had an invisible thread attached to him. The harder her fingernail grazed him, the harder he became, and the more his cock pointed upwards. By the time she reached the sensitive head, he was fully erect. "My, you're a little excited, aren't you," she sighed. "Just a little" She clasped her hand around the shaft and began a slow stroke. "Does that feel good Dirky," she moaned, stroking his throbbing member from base to top. "Oh yeah baby" She continued, squeezing tighter, then loosening, up and down his length. She would speed up until she felt him begin to quiver, then slow down again. "Dirky, can I ask you something?" "Sure baby, ask away," his staggered words in between moans. "Your Dad's dinner part is this Saturday, right?" He didn't answer at first. Her strokes became faster. She looked up at him as if waiting for a response. "Yeeeah… thiiiis… Saturday." He was getting harder and harder in her hand. "Well, I'm still invited aren't I?" This time she moved her left hand up to continue stroking, providing her right a brief rest period. "Of course you are" "Good, because I'm so excited. Almost as excited as you are," and she giggled again. A slurping sound filled the equipment room as she worked his now wet cock from top to bottom. "Anyway, I want to look really pretty that night for you. Mason's is having this sale through Friday and I've already found the dress I want." Dirk was ignoring her. "Anyway, it's $350.00 and I don't quite have that much money. Do you think… you know Dirky… you could maybe make that an early birthday present for me" Dirk was rocking his hips against the equipment shelf, writhing in the pleasure of his gorgeous girlfriend furiously pumping his hard cock. She was stroking faster now, alternating between hands to maintain his arousal. He was going to cum soon. He reminded himself again that he had to warn her. She got so pissed the last time he came all over her without warning her. Then he realized she was still talking to him and expecting an answer. "I… oh god baby… I don't have any money right now. You'll have to wear one….ohhhhhhhh. .gaaawwwdd…of your other dresses… they look fine….." Jenna stopped her stroking immediately and faced him with her hands on her hips. His cock was twitching as if it was yelling out to Jenna to resume. Dirk looked down at her. "WHAT! Why did you stop?" "Oh sure. It's ok for me to do something nice like this for you, but when it comes to something for me, you don't try very hard. You could go to an ATM, or borrow from your dad's poker money until you can pay him back. You've done it before." "Jenna, your other dresses are fine. Now please… just a little longer. I was so close!" "Get that dress for me and I'll finish." She had a stubborn pout look on her face, having just delivered her ultimatum. Dirk looked at her, contemplating his next move. "Alright, alright. I'll go the ATM after school. I'll drop the money off at your house later." "Promise?" "I promise, I promise." "Oh I love you Dirky," and she reached up and kissed his lips. She leaned back and looked down at his cock, which was now starting to go south. She cradled it gently in her hand and they both watched as she stroked it slowly, reviving his excitement. She continued, running his entire length with her hand until it was once again it was like holding a stalk of granite in her palm. She resumed her pumping, but this time she was relentless. She grabbed his cock with both hands and stared deep into his eyes as she jerked him harder and harder, faster and faster. She could see by his almost pained expression that he was close, but couldn't release. When she thought it might go on too long, she moved again to using one hand, leaning over and beginning to whisper into his ear. "Is this feeling good Dirk, your BIG cock in my hand" He nodded a series of short nods, but didn't answer. "Are you going to cum, baby? Are you going to DO it? It's ok if you want to. Go ahead and cum baby… it's ok." She paused for a moment watching the blood rush to the lower part of his body, her hand stroking furiously. He was enormous in her palm and she could feel him starting to throb. She carefully stood to the side in case he forgot again to warn her. Still he couldn't release. "Dirky," and she leaned up on her tip toes, running her tongue up the side of his neck until she reached his ear. "Do you want to fuck me?" she moaned in hoarse whispers. "Do you want me to lift my little tennis skirt right here, slide your hands in my panties until they reach my knees so you can bend me over and stuff that big cock of yours in my tight little pussy? Hear me scream?" "Ohhhhhh… Jennnnnaaaa…" were Dirk's final words. He seemed to begin to howl, echoing in the walls of the equipment room as he came in wave after wave. Jenna stood to the side and watched with fascination as the cum exploded from his purple, swollen knob like a fountain of thick goo, flying high into the air and then falling like syrup into a mass below. She continued stroking until he was limp in her hand, then reached across to a bundle of nearby towels. She was trying to thoughtful, figuring if he was going to buy her the dress, the least she could do was clean him up. He stood, wavering against the shelf, twitching slightly as she wiped all traces of semen from his thighs, abdomen and dick. She finished by helping to pull up his jeans and then gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "There, you feel better big stud? All ready for practice now? Oh yeah, don't forget to drop off the money so I have time to get my shopping done. The dress may need some alterations." +++++ With the last class dismissed, Emily turned out of her classroom and started down the hall. "Boo!" Jenna half shouted in Emily's ear, sneaking up behind her as she walked. "Oh God! You scared me," Emily sighed. "Where have you been? I thought you and poster boy were going to his Mom's house. I didn't expect to see you again until later" "No," Jenna replied. "No time for that. We decided to plan my shopping trip instead." Emily looked at her friend with a confused expression. "Never mind," Jenna replied, laughing out loud. The girls were in the next class together. As they made the turn into the classroom, Emily was first to notice the absence of Mr. Sullivan. She turned quickly to her friend, a look of shock on her face. "Jenna! Oh my God! That's that hunky guy that was at the stoplight earlier this morning. The guy who just moved in across from my Mom's house!" Jenna looked up. Her friend was right. That was the same guy, all right. She remembered how he ignored her at the stoplight, even though she was clearly flirting with him. She hated that. She put on her best 'I don't give a shit face' and took her seat, throwing a disapproving glance in his direction as she walked by. In reality, it took all she could muster to act so disinterested. Whoever this guy was, he was the sexiest male she had happened across in a very long time. The students took their seat and continued to talk until Kent called their attention. "Good Morning" There was dead silence as each student just stared at him. "I said… GOOD MORNING," Kent's words boomed through the classroom. "Good morning," a handful of students begrudgingly replied. "My name is Mr. Darian, but you can call me Kent. I'll be substituting for Mr. Sullivan while he handles some family business. He had to travel back east to attend to a sick relative. This is my first teaching job, so I hope you'll be patient with me. I'm excited to be here and will do my best to make Algebra exciting for you…if that's possible," and the students laughed, helping to break the tension in the air. "Oh, you're already making it exciting for me," Emily mumbled out loud, rubbing her thighs together beneath the flowing material of her granny skirt as she watched Kent move back and forth in front of the class. Jenna looked over at her friend with a look of astonishment. She was surprised by Emily's open attraction, not to mention the fact that she had never noticed her looking at a guy in quite that way. She leaned closer and whispered, "Sheez Emily, are you in heat," mocking Emily's prior question to Dirk. Emily broke from her concentration and glanced at her friend, blushing. Jenna smiled and turned back to check out ole Kent herself, looking up and down his muscular frame as he paced in front of the class. As she watched him stride back and forth, taking in every inch of his physique, one thought raced through her mind. 'You may have ignored me before. But rest assured Mr. Kent Darian. You can't ignore me forever' +++++ Email: sundance69@hotmail.com Story Archive: http://extra.newsguy.com/~suntales -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----