Message-ID: <37650asstr$1028369404@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "she-cries" <she_cries@hotmail.com>
Reply-To: "she-cries" <she_cries@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} Breaking in Teacher (3/4) by she_cries (mmF, nc, reluc, humil)
Date: Sat,  3 Aug 2002 06:10:04 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Breaking in the Teacher Part. 3


by she-cries


(feedback is welcome and encouraged at she_cries@hotmail.com)


She didn't know how she fell asleep, but the dry, crackled feeling on her
face, and the brightness of the light let her know she had spent the day in
the bushes.  It was well into night, though the sun set early at this time
of year, so it could be as early as seven o'clock.

She had huddled in the bushes after Mr. Gold left her, waiting for her
courage to rise, but only to be greeted every time she thought to venture
out with a peal of laughter, or the clack of heels on concrete from someone
passing by.  She must have been more drained from the day's exertions than
she'd realized, because at one point she laid down, shivering with the
growing cold autumn air, and clearly, passed out.

What startled her most was that she hadn't just come to, she'd been woken up
by someone climbing through the bushes.  She could hear the cast of piss on
the mulch from a boy who she realized was standing right next to where she
was laying in the shadow cast by the bright floodlights as he peed on the
wall.  She lay frozen until he had finished, and climbed back out, and could
hear the voices of two boys talking, and smell cigarette smoke.

Resolved not to wait any longer she stood up as quietly as she could, and
took a hesitant step so she could see the walkway that led across the quad
to the parking lot.  She noted, with a bit of irritation, that in spite of
the dried cum on her face, the squelching between her legs had been replaced
by a slick goo that seemed to cover her inner thighs.

She also saw two boys, rocker-types, she guessed, though she didn't know
what rebel kids called themselves these days.  Sitting in their jeans and
band shirts, one had a tattered, oversized leather jacket on, the other a
shabby trenchcoat with safety pins and cheap spikes stuck erratically to the
collars.  Both had slightly long hair.  Both were uncompromisingly skinny,
graceless, and one was still struggling with adolescent acne.  Basically,
her old crowd from high-school.  Social rejects that didn't exactly have the
brains to fill out the nerd company, or the social skills to become a
clique.  She just hoped that these guys were as nice as the ones she'd hung
around with, as opposed to the antisocial types who had gotten her drunk and
taken her virginity when she was in her experimentation phase so many years
ago.

A thought unbidden, she could still remember the feeling of the cold asphalt
underneath her while the two guys took her in a parking lot, behind a local
grocery store, while she, unable to resist, or even articulate a proper
sentence, let them have their way with her.

She never imagined that she would find herself throwing herself into
situations like that, as she had earlier today, but then she hadn't imagined
that either.  Life was full of little surprises.

The boys were surprised to hear the sound of heels on the concrete behind
them, but even more surprised to see one of the school teachers (they had
never had her, so didn't know what she taught) staggering towards them
wearing what appeared to be a crap of cloth over her chest and a paper thin,
skin tight wrap skirt.  Under the glaring vapor light, placed so as to cast
as much light as possible, she could hide nothing from their young eyes, the
curves of her thighs, the arches of her breasts pushing out from underneath
the tube-top, nor the fact that her nipples, hardened by the cold, were
jutting out through the elastic fabric that was stretched to its limits.

Both of them scrambled to a sort of attention, and two cigarettes zipped out
of sight.  Whatever the circumstances, she was still a teacher, and they
were minors, trespassing on school ground after dark.

But she was so drained she just waved a hand at them.  After a couple steps
she felt the blood rushing to her head, and realized that if she tried to
cross the quad she might not make it.  She hadn't eaten anything all day,
and the long day had taken its toll on her.

"You guys go to school here?"

One nodded, the other shook his head.  Then the one who nodded shook his
head, while the other nodded.

She couldn't help but smile at the ridiculous behavior, and no longer
surprised at her reactions to the days circumstances she decided she had
nothing to lose.  She walked over to the edge of the walkway, which was the
top of a low rolling, grassy hill that went down to the quad, and said, "Got
another one of those?"

Both boys froze, then the one with the acne in the trenchcoat held up his
hand, most of a full cigarette burning there, "You can have this one. Mrs.
Caulder."

She looked at the boy, and taking the cigarette said, "Don't call me that."

"Sorry." He uttered, and they remained standing as she sat down heavily in
the soft, slightly damp grass.

"Thanks." She said taking a drag of the cigarette, resisting the urge to
cough with the unfamiliar smoke.  Enjoying the buzzing sensation the first
cigarette she'd had in year made in her head.  "I'm not a Mrs., I'm a miss.
I don't even have a boyfriend." And she started trying to scratch Mr. Gold's
dried cum off her chin.

The boy in the leather accepted her behavior with surprising ease and
gratuitously inhaled a drag off his cigarette, and sat down a couple feet
down from Miss Caulder.

The trenchcoat boy did the same, pulling out another cigarette from, of all
things, a pewter cigarette case, "Are you working late, Miss Caulder."

Miss Caulder sighed.  "Just call me Wendy.  What's your name."

"Eliot.  And that's James." He said indicating the boy in the trenchcoat.

James was peering past his friend at the teacher, "No offense. Wendy, but
you're a mess."

She nodded, pleased she had finally stumbled across a man who spoke
straight, "It's been a long, fucking day, James."

Both boys seemed tickled at her use of swear words, and they idly chatted
about how quiet the school was, about how they came up here a lot at night,
after their parents crashed.  Sometimes they even brought beers.  They were
really polite, but had no trouble grasping the idea that she didn't want to
be treated like a teacher, and at one point, Miss Caulder thanked them for
that, accepting her second cigarette from Eliot.

"Hell, I don't like being treated like a kid." He grinned back at her, "Of
course, if you weren't a teacher, I'd probably be trying to score on you
right now."

Miss Caulder found herself the only one laughing as both boys froze with the
fear that Eliot had gone too far.  She looked at the pair, "Oh for Christ's
sake.  I'm a sex ed teacher.  You think I've never had sex?"

But most adults, and especially kids, had trouble talking about sex in mixed
company, so she didn't expect much beyond their unconvincing attempts to
relax.

Miss Caulder realized she had been scratching her chin sore, "Shit, I need
to clean myself up."  She didn't know how late it was, but she didn't relish
the idea of a drive home in her condition, much less when she remembered
that she had to get gas as her car was on empty, and the security guards who
patrolled her apartment complex were leering bastards on a normal day.  She
looked at the boys, "Any ideas?"

James pointed his finger down the hill to where vending machines were lit up
in front of the cafeteria.  The school's drinking fountains were all
indoors, due to vandalism, and were thus all locked up for the night, James
explained, "We could get some bottled water from the machines."

Miss Caulder hefted her purse, but knew she kept her change in her car for
the meters, "Got any chage?"

The boys shook her head, but Eliot smile, "We don't really need it."  Miss
Caulder smiled back at him.

"Lead the way."

The five finger discount had involved the boys unplugging the bottled water
machine, then sticking a hand up the dispenser while the other plugged it
back in.  By shaking the machine violently at this point, one of them could
grab a bottle of water and guide it down the shaft.  Eliot produced four
bottles, two for Miss Caulder and one for him and James each, while James
pried the sliding doors of the sandwich vendor open and using a pair of
pencils as chopsticks fished out the napkin-utensil bag that came with each
sandwich.  Imploring him to get more than the two he had produced, she didn'
t stop the boy until he had fished every last one out of the machine, as
well as a pair of slightly mangled submarine sandwiches.

Finally, armed with the water and the pile of napkins she faced both boys,
"How old are you guys?"

"Fifteen" James said.

Eliot looked at his feet, "Sixteen."

She regarded them both.  In spite of the frequent glances over her partially
clad body, neither had made any move that could be regarded as disrespectful
or improper.

"I need to be straight with you.  I need to clean a lot more than my face,
and I think you can guess what's on my face."

The boys looked at each other, not wanting to look her in the eye, but it
was clear that they were pretty sure they recognized what they had woken up
to themselves many times in the past on their bedsheets.

Eliot mumbled, "That's why you don't want us to treat you like a teacher."

"Yeah," Miss Caulder sighed.  "You know, this is something friends might
understand, but I'm supposed to be some sexless drone, or something."

James shook his head, "I'll never tell anyone, Wendy."

"Thank you James."

"Me neither" Eliot chimed in.

"And thank you, Eliot, for not trying to score with me."

The boys laughed this time.

"You want us to keep a watch out?" James asked.

She realized that James, in spite of his seeming respectable behavior was
cultivating the perfect excuse to not have to wander far while she performed
her ablutions. , and couldn't help but grin.  Looking around she realized
that the vending machines were well shielded from a view across the quad,
and mostly from any late-night janitor who might be working in the main
building or the cafeteria.  It also wasn't as well lit as the walkway,
though the vending machines cast a lot of light.

Eliot jumped on the idea, "We'll go out where we can cover the entire quad,
and we won't look."

"That's not necessary." Miss Caulder laughed at the boy's earnestness.

He gave her a confused look, his eyes sweeping over her body.

She quickly covered, "I mean, if you just keep an eye out." She made a leap
of faith, knowing it was stupid, but did it nonetheless, "I trust you."

She had deliberately avoided telling them not to look, knowing that it would
be like telling a starving man not to eat.  It just seemed a better
situation, to implicitly endorse and peeking they might do, while accepting
their own description of themselves as noble enough not to.  That way they
might get to see her, but neither feel they were betraying her trust, and
shattering the bond that made her feel so safe at the moment, but not
asserting the teacher-student relationship that she didn't think she could
bear at the moment.

Whatever, it was a silly rationalization.  She just didn't feel like being
alone, and if that meant they got to watch her bathe, she could live with
that.

The two boys nodded their heads, and with them still watching Miss Caulder
unhooked the strap holding the tube top up and pushed it down to her waist.
In spite of their bulging eyes and evident interest, Eliot first, then James
spun around, moving their heads as if they were scouting the ground for any
sign of intrusion, but their eyes were firmly riveted to their periphery,
trying to move in such a way as would afford them a glance at their
succulent teacher in the half-light of the vending machines.  Not as bold,
or as arrogant as the jocks, or Mr. Gold, the boys contented themselves with
sidelong glances, always brief, as if by accident.

Pushing the skirt and the top over her hips, Miss Caulder was shocked at the
sight of her glistening thighs.  The copious amounts of sperm left behind by
Mr. Gold and John-two made her wonder that they'd come in the past ten
years.  She wasted no time wiping her thighs down, tearing open the platic
napikin baggies and scrubbing until one was drenched, then moving on to the
next.  A lot of it had dried, but her heat had kept most of it moist, and
upending a bottle of cold water over her crotch she gasped with the effort
to wipe their traces away.

Eliot had hazarded a glance at her, "Are you okay, Mrs. Calder?"

She looked straight at him, her knees bent to the sides, one hand pulling
her crotch forward while the other poured water over it.  He quickly snapped
his head back.  James stole a quick peek too.

"Who's Mrs. Caulder?" she spat at him.

"Sorry, Wendy."

Rubbing in the chilled water and pouring more over her she shook her head,
"It's okay, Eliot, it's just fucking cold, that's all."

For the rest of her bath the boys barely sought to steal a glimpse, perhaps
disturbed by the sight of her scrubbing out her cunt.  Both boys remained
vigilant, and didn't try to peek until a loud ripping sound had pierced the
night.

"Shit." Miss Caulder uttered.

Trying their best not to look, Eliot asked, "What happened."

"Eliot?"

He still hadn't turned around, "Yeah, Wendy?"

He heard bare feet slapping against the concrete behind him.  Turning around
he was greeted with the sight of the beautiful teacher, no longer a
cum-crudded mess, , but hair combed and face cleaned, a smooth skinned,
shapely succubus swaying towards him in the night, wearing her skin-tight
skirt, but topless, her arms crossed over her beautiful nudity.  "I have a
problem."

As James turned around they saw in one hand too small to cover the swollen
breast behind it, the tattered remnant of her tube top, dangling like a
castoff rage from her fingertips.

Eliot wasted no time, and stripped off his trenchcoat and threw it over Miss
Caulder's shoulders, buttoning the top two buttons.  She felt his body heat,
trapped by the insulating fabric embrace her, and like a drug, euphoria
washed over her and she leaned into the boy, letting his arms take her
weight and hold her tight.

"What happened to you?"

James was still standing apart, his hands stuffed in his pockets, "Did
someone hurt you, Wendy?"

She started to nod, but found herself shaking her head.  "I don't know how
to describe it, James. Eliot.." But describe it she did.  The tale of how
the two John's had cornered her and gotten her naked, how Mr. Gold had
convinced her to "give him a chance" (a concept the boys seemed to have
trouble with, that a man and woman would fuck so casually as to try each
other out).  She detailed how emotionally raw she had become, how in spite
of the fact that she had not wanted Mr. Gold at all she had let him use her
and ditch her when he was done with her.

Omitting only the embarrassment before the peeping-tom boys in the temp
class, and glossing over any suggestion that she had found a form of escape
and solace between his legs , and certainly the violent orgasm she'd
experienced, she only told them of her troubled trek through psyche, half
dressed, and then she told them how she had thought the John's were
intimidating her into stripping for them, how they ad been put off by her
behavior, but at her frightened compliance how John-two had had her anyway
(again, not admitting that she had thrown herself vigorously onto his pole
to seek the great escape Mr. Gold had shown her, and also how she had tried
to have John fuck her to make up for John-two's failure).

She went on to describe her humiliation after school with Mr. Gold demeaning
her before his linebacker, and how he had led her into the bushes to service
him one last time before he went home to his wife, and left her there
without so much as a hanky to wipe off with.

She poured her heart out to them, only holding back the gnawing feelings
that seemed to carve out a burrow deep within her.  The burrow that needed a
great, forceful intrusion, or a vast presence to fill up, that without she
would never feel whole.

"You ever been with a woman, Eliot?" she asked the scrawny geek shivering in
his T-shirt.  She felt him shake his head.

But tight as she clung to him, it only served to remind her how much he was
lacking.  His bony shoulders and scrawny chest seemed to jab into her, like
leaning against a pole.  There was no strength in his arms that held her so
tenderly.  The warmth and affection that washed over her seemed a shallow
substitute for being utterly consumed.  She thought of Mr. Gold's bold,
tight-packed belly, the repulsive brick sheathed in sagging skin that,
nevertheless, took her to such faraway places.  In Eliot's arms she could
only be herself.  She could imagine him gently caressing her skin, and
lightly kissing her arms and neck, but felt nothing at the thought, and when
she tried to put him between her legs vision of John-two and his massive
member flooded her thoughts.

What had they done to her, those muscle bound oafs, too dense to put a
thought together for anything but sexual conquest, to leave her irritated
and distracted in the face of genuine affection?   What kind of future could
she have if no man could ever satisfy her again who wasn't crushing the life
out of her?

The most astonishing thought of all was the thought that had led her to this
downward spiral of self-pity:  that she'd give herself to these boys for
being so nice!  This morning the act of sex with a younger man was hardly
something she'd have ever contemplated, but with a student?  She had gone
from having a very normal, if erratic, sex life to considering it to be
something of an obligation she let go of for any man who saw her weak and
helpless.  Even surrendering herself to John-two's forced intrusion,
allowing Mr. Gold to pick her up as this semesters fuck-slut, to be used at
his convenience, his whore, rather than a partner in pleasure wasn't as bad
as the realization that in one, very long day she'd gone from using sex only
to satisfy her own needs to satiate loneliness or sexual desire, it suddenly
seemed second nature, in fact obvious, that she should give herself to these
boys to use as they wanted for their polite ministrations to her evident
suffering.

Perhaps it was more than that, however.  Perhaps, she felt the need to sever
this bond of intimacy.  To peel back the heart on her sleeve and restore
their relationship to one devoid of true feeling, but instead to replace it
with one of mindless lust.  Certainly these boys would find it much harder
to so stoically turn their back on her nudity after they had ridden her like
the whore the John's and Mr. Gold knew her to be.

Whatever the truth of the matter, she found that she was stroking Eliot's
rigid cock through his pants.  How long she had been doing it she didn't
know, as her mind had wandered far from the warm place in his arms.

Knowing she'd hate it.  Knowing she'd gain no satisfaction from it, she had
already set in motion events that would deprive her of the last vestiges of
trust and intimacy she might ever share with these boys.

Already she saw the look in Eliot's eyes, and James as he discerned the
motion.  The curious arch of the eyebrow that revealed the doubt in their
eyes as to the truth of the charges she had just made.  A woman looking for
pity is bound to say a great many things.  They had seen the cum on her
face, had watched her swab it from her thighs, but they had no reason to
believe the forms of coercion she described having led her to such a
debilitating state, and the evidence of her willing exposure before them,
her insistence on personalizing the relationship, and the motion of her
hand, left the boys wondering what she was really looking for?  Had she
tried to buy it with sex before and failed, after giving up too much?  How
much would she give up for them?

The change in Eliot's thought process was evident in that he pulled the
trenchcoat aside, both to give her better access to his groin, and to see
her better.  The shift in his demeanor was unsettling to Miss Caulder,
having gone from sensitive and caring to cynical and, most definitely
lusting.  She had transformed in his arms from friend in need to bitch in
heat, and he seemed to have no problem accommodating the transition.

However, shifting from the position of equal but younger, behaving on her
terms, the gangly, pimple-faced dork in the speed metal T-shirt wasn't going
to let her off too easy.  To Eliot sex, certainly was sex, but any nerd
could fuck a slut like Miss Caulder.  It was only his virginity and his male
desire to prove himself a man that kept him from tearing off his trenchcoat
and kicking her off campus for fucking up what had been a pretty cool night.

That and the fact that she was, very beautiful, if in an older, sort of soft
and flabby way.  He only had to glance at James to understand that the same
thought process was going through his head.  James particularly didn't
relish the idea of using the football coach's castoff, but she did look soft
and warm, and those breasts were definitely inviting.  He'd go home tonight
knowing he was a man, and he'd put up with a lot of shit for that, and had
in the past only to go home blue-balled.

Eliot pushed her away, holding her at arms length, and letting go.  "Let me
have my coat back."

Miss Caulder, expecting this nevertheless let out a regretful sigh as she
unbuttoned the trenchcoat and once again stood before the pair of them,
topless.  Eliot took the coat, but instantly forgot it, letting it fall to
the ground between them, his inexperience getting the better of him.  The
heat and the warmth fading away, Miss Caulder clutched herself,
inadvertently squeezing each boob in a fist, trying to rub heat into her
breasts.

But seeing the look of lust and determination on the boys she dropped her
hands and abruptly pushed down her skirt.  She was committed, and she was
going to do this.  She wasn't, however, going to lie there meekly and let
them come and use her.  She was going to fuck them like she'd never fucked
anyone before.  Before the night was over she would own these two boys the
way she'd been owned by their classmate.

But she hadn't counted on the obsession with pride young men use to keep
their fragile egos together in high school.

Throwing her arms around Eliot Miss Caulder kissed him deeply and
passionately, grinding her body against his, and then, with one hand, she
deftly undid his pants and dragged him to the ground with her.  The boy,
inexperienced and unsure how to proceed allowed Miss Caulder to pull his
pants down just far enough for comfort, but he lunged at her, grabbing her
by the arms and pulled her up till she was laying on top of him, her naked
belly quivering against his throbbing cock.

Shuddering with the sensation he rolled the older woman over, onto her back,
and straddling her he climbed atop her and reached for the breasts which so
invitingly called out to him although they sagged from side to side.  Taking
huge handfuls he pawed at them, and shoved her back to the hard, freezing
concrete when she tried to put her arms around him.  Gasping with the shock
she reached up again, "Kiss me Eliot." She implored the leering, pimply boy.
He stared at her for a long moment, then with a frown, lifted one knee and
forcefully spread her legs apart to accommodate himself.

Eager to regain the initiative, as soon as he had his other leg between hers
she wrapped her legs around him, threw her arms up and planted another
violent kiss on his mouth, but after a moment of stabbing tongues he turned
his head aside, "Just hold still, damnit!"

In spite of herself she felt herself submitting to the order, letting him
slide further down to where his dick was grinding against her labia, but in
spite of the growing, necessary arousal that had been welling up in longing
for the kind of sexual escape Mr. Gold had introduced to her, she wasn't
ready for a dick yet, and from the feel of things, Eliot had quite a bit to
accommodate.

"I'm not ready, Eliot." But she started grinding against him, trying to use
his manhood to stimulate her in spite of the cold floor.

"Well, what the fuck?" he said, reaching down to guide himself in despite
her words.

She cupped a cheek, gently, but firmly, "Eliot, you need to get me wet
first."

She felt amateur hands pawing at her lower lips, felt a finger prodding for
her sex, "Well what am I supposed to do?"

Fighting off the feeling of despair that clutched at her she forced a smile,
"You could kiss me, Eliot.  Or suck on my nipples."

In spite of his resolve not to get too involved with Miss Caulder, Eliot
really wanted to try sucking at her tits.  He really just wanted to fuck her
and be done with her.  The thought of doting on this slut was enough to make
him feel sleazy and desperate.  Particularly enlightened as he was as to how
she'd let John-two and his ugly-ogre of a friend use her the way he and
james were going to use her.  The boys loathed the two Johns and the thought
of fucking their castoffs (why didn't John even fuck her?) was almost enough
to forego losing their virginity.

But not quite, and Eliot suckled at Miss Caulder's puffy nipples long and
hard, writing off her squeals and gasps as the fake orgasms he'd seen in
porno movies.  She was reacting wayyy too much.  A woman who meant it, who
was really worth having, would have just shut up and enjoyed it.  Only a
slut desperate for attention by pleasing her guy would squeal like a pig at
a little sucking.

For Miss Caulder's part, the boy was a natural.  Having always been
particular to aggressive use of the mouth on her nipples, Eliot's
inexperienced mouth was a natural fit.  Combined with the way he ground his
penis against her clitoris, rubbing the base against her sex she had begun
to have convulsions the sort of which she'd sought from John-two by riding
his tree trunk halfway up to the base.  No longer the ego-gratifying quest
to show she had power, she found herself relishing his ministrations, though
baffled by his reluctance.  She willingly gave up any hope of dominating
this boy in exchange for the electricity traveling between her breasts and
her groin, that sent tingles to the tips of her toes and seemed to float her
above the hard concrete.

But the boy stopped sucking, "Shit!" he said, grabbing his dick and stabbing
frantically at her crotch, having no idea where to stick it, he slipped on
the now free-flowing juices.  Gasping and moaning he seized up, and Miss
Caulder looked down in time to see his snake, a healthy member enough to put
John and Mr. Gold to shame, if not enough to intimidate John-two, as it
spewed out his service all over her freshly bathed crotch, onto her tummy,
shooting as high as her breasts until he shuddered to a halt, and collapsed
beside her, cursing under his breath.

"Why didn't you let me fuck you?"

She rolled on her side, flinching at the cold stone underneath passing to a
new part of her body, "I just needed some time."

He hitched up his pants and sat up as she tried to put an arm around him,
"We can still play, Eliot."

But he shook off her arm, refusing to look at her, "Let go of me." And he
stood up, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

"Eliot." She appealed, cold and frustruated.  Craving the intense heat that
had shot through her body, but James was there, pulling her towards him.

Distracted by thoughts of another chance, Miss Caulder tried to pull the
younger boy down to the ground with her, but he recoiled, "That's fucking
gross!"

She watched him scowling at her body, and only after following his horrified
stare realized that he wasn't willing to roll around in his friends sperm no
matter how much he wanted to lose his virginity.  Not with a slut who was
giving it up willy nilly for kids half her age.

She implored the boy, fondling her breasts hoping he would be as compelled
by them as Eliot, "Please James, I want you so badly." But her fondling only
revealed the extent to which James's spray had covered her, and she saw that
she had pearly drops all over her chest and belly.

James was clearly having an internal struggle with his sense of disgust and
need to get laid.  In the end, Miss Caulder's beauty, again won the day, but
he ordered her, "Roll over."

She reluctantly turned her back on him, rolling to her side where she saw
Eliot glaring at her.  The contempt in his eyes was palpable, but she held
still while James ran his hands over her, fondling her but, then abruptly
pushing on her back, laying her flat out of the concrete, smashing her
succulent, beautiful breasts against the hard stone floor!

"Oh my god, James, that so cold!" she cried out.  After Eliot's head the
cold tore through her with the jagged surface of the concrete, but the
pressure only mounted as James climbed on top of her.

"What?  I thought you wanted to get fucked" and she could feel his penis
probing at her nethers, slipping, looking for purchase, lodging in her
asshole until she craned her back, grinding herself face first into the
ground to guide him down lest the lubrication let him into her ass.

And finally he found it.  Whereas before there was muscle, heat, and flesh,
now she had stone, freezing cold, and relentless pumping that drove her
rock-hard nipples into concrete.  Where she'd asked for kissing her lips
pressed against the rough gray surface, her tongue lapping at its surface to
keep herself moist.  His hand pinned her head, his other pawed at the bulge
of her breast putting all his weight on her as he drove his member between
the cheeks of her ass, a bold, seven inch statement flooding in and out of
her as to who was in charge here.

As quickly as he'd begun, James was finished, abruptly freezing up, letting
out a long groan, an Miss Caulder knew that a third man had orgasmed within
her.  As before, with her lovers' satisfaction, her blinding need returned:
the craving for more, even more of this abuse, anything to blind her to her
humiliation, all the more poignant, aware how she was of how she'd had the
boys' respect, and had thrown it away for a few moments of terrifying,
passionate, brutal lovemaking.  This wasn't some reward for their kindness,
this was the greed of an addict.  She couldn't even claim to be a
nymphomaniac, like she had with past boyfriends, to turn them on.  She was
just trying to numb the awareness of all she had done to herself, and in the
attempt put her further and further into it.

Peeling herself off of the concrete she tried not to look at the boys.  The
cool blast of night air on her swollen sex was a shocking blast that for a
moment filled her up like James had done, but it left her hallow.

She looked up at Eliot, puffing at his cigarette, smouldering that he had
failed to lose his cherry even to this wanton slut.  But the need for escape
and satisfaction was still strong in Miss Caulder, as it clearly was in the
boy.

"Eliot, do you want to try again." She rolled up on her side, lifting a leg
invitingly.

He looked at her, clearly considering it, but with the edge off from his
first orgasm he found it hard to find even her succulent curves compelling,
coated as she was with sperm. "Look at you, you're fucking disgusting."

And she knew what he saw.  A slut, covered with jism, his own, granted, but
his buddies glistened on her sex and she felt in every bone of her body,
through the cold and the bruises the true shame of what she had become.

James had zipped up, and lit his own cigarette, "Hey, can you buy us some
beers?"

After servicing the two boys it seemed a little thing for him to ask, but it
only seemed to drive home the point that she was now also the whore for
these two minors.  Slaving to their lusts, but also ministering to their
every whim.  She didn't want to think about it and kept looking at Eliot, "I
could wash up again." She indicated the unopened water bottle.

"You need a shower.  Look at you, you're totally trashed."

James was slightly less inclined to discard her having enjoyed his ride so
much.  In spite of Eliot's pride, he was no longer a virgin, and Eliot was.
He didn't seem quite so put out by the thought of using a slut like this,
especially since, unlike the schoolgirl sluts, who were decidedly less
attractive, she as an adult could open doors for them.

"Why don't we go back to your place, Wendy?"

When she had tried to leave school that afternoon her one thought was of
finding some escape, some solace that didn't involve debasing herself.  The
thought of two sophomores having the run of not only her body, but her
house, and her possessions terrified her.  Every bit of her cried out for
more sex, anything to put that thought out of her head, but she knew that
Eliot wasn't going to have her, not like this.  She also knew it would be no
trouble to find someone to slake her thirst for humiliating, soul-crushing
sex if the bars were still open.

The only trouble was she couldn't bring herself to tell them no, no matter
how many times she tried to mouth the word.  She knew she had no power to
keep them from telling anyone what she had done, nor using her at their
leisure, and that cooperating was her best road to keeping some kind of
control over the situation.  She also knew that Eliot was deeply resentful
that she had required preparation before he had sex with her, and in spite
of that that he might still fuck her, were she not so soiled.

Eliot finally broke a grin, looking up at James, "Hey, I wonder how coach
Gold would feel if her knew we'd taken his girl out for a night on the
 town?"


They had made her lead her across the quad to her car, and after wiping
herself down with her skirt, and the shredded tube-top Eliot had reluctantly
parted with his trenchcoat, as Miss Caulder would have to go into the store
to pay for gas, beer, and a carton of smokes.

Eliot had taken her keys and her wallet, frowning at the shortage of cash
with which to buy supplies.  Neither boy had any money to speak of,
depending on looting their fathers' cigarettes and liquor typically.

Though he didn't have a drivers license, Eliot drove, and James, after
making sure Miss Caulder was wiped down in front, took her in the back seat,
making her strip off so he could play with her tits and kiss her.  He even
allowed her to take some control, showing him how to fuck, obviously
relishing her body.  In spite of James' selfish reasons she was grateful for
his attentions.  She eagerly spread her legs for his again, and contorted as
she was in the back of a moving car, it was much better than the cold
concrete.  James' frantic humping completely failed to produce the
overwhelming sensation of nothingness that she had experienced with Mr.
Gold, John-two, and under his weight against the concrete, but she was
beginning to discover that the sheer act of humiliating herself for these
boys who were so young and immature was a satisfactory proxy, especially
when she played up the slut, embracing their cocks with relish, squealing
and panting like nothing on earth could satisfy her more.

She could hardly admit, even to herself, that while this scrawny lad of
fifteen pumped his second load into her that night that visions of vast,
wrinkled bellies and crotch splitting members flashed through her, making
James' hollow rutting even less satisfactory, but to watch her envelop the
boy no one would have guessed that the crushing girth of Mr. Gold was what
she was craving.

Panting with the exertions of her act, still clutching James between her
arms, her legs wrapped tightly around him, Eliot was watching her from the
front seat.  Lust and envy poured out of his eyes, but he had set his
standards, and he wasn't prepared to violate them.  Besides, they were at
the store.  She had a job to do.

Donning James' coat this time, she had to slip out of the car exposed to the
whole street, but hidden by the gas pumps they were lined up againt from the
open glass windows from anyone in the store in order to pull her cum-stained
skirt on.    Fortunately, it was almost eleven, and there was little traffic
on this suburban stretch, though the noises emanating from the bar across
the street left her chilled with more than the cool night air that someone
might come out.

No one did, and though it was too dark to tell, Miss Caulder hoped that
Eliot and James' cum hadn't had time to dry on her skirt, and that she
wouldn't look completely trashy to the clerk.

She walked up to the driver's side window, trying to pretty herself as she
went, though she knew the flush of sex was on her face, not to mention the
smell.  Eliot held out twenty bucks, all the cash she had in her wallet (in
the four years she'd been teaching at other schools she'd had her purse
stolen three times, she didn't even carry credit cards in it any more).

"That should get us a twelve-pack, and a couple packs of smokes."  He looked
up at the girl, sitting in the driver's seat of her car as she humbly waited
for further orders, "You got something to douche with at home?"

A flush of anger rose up from her collar.  Straightening up she curled down
to stare at the boy, "You want to spend the night jerking off?"

The shocked expression on her face told him all she needed to know.  Though
she wasn't gorgeous, didn't have a tight little body, and wasn't young and
pert like a sixteen year old cheerleader she had a nice face, great tits,
and a succulent ass, and was very clearly willing to do anything for this
boy who was walking all over her.  Though domineering pricks like Mr. Gold
might toss her off at the drop of a hat, this boy with the acne riddled face
wasn't going to do anything of the sort.  Not until he'd got his rocks off.

She wondered where such resolve had been while he was trying to fuck her on
the quad, or why it hadn't reared up before she led herself down the path of
being their fuck-toy, but it was too late for that now.  She had invited
them into her pants, and now the only leg she had to stand on was that it
might stay between the three of them if she gave them what she wanted.

Besides, she thought, staring at the boy.  He wasn't entirely unattractive.
Skinny and pimply, yes, but he had a good face, and would probably be a
handsome man.  He also had a dick that seemed enticingly between Mr. Gold's
half-mast and John-two's whale-tail.  She might genuinely have a good time.

"Sorry, Eliot."

"Nah," he said, looking down at the steering wheel.  "I'm sorry."  He looked
up at her in James' leather, unzipped provocatively down to her belly
button, her face clear of make-up.  Aside from the ample cleavage and the
folds where her breasts hung down she looked rather young, "I don't mean to
be such a dick, I just always thought."  he fell silent for a long moment.

Miss Caulder stooped down, so she was looking up at Eliot, "What is it?" she
saw James trying not to pay attention in the back seat.

Eliot glanced at her, "I just thought that if a girl was worth having she'd.
Y'know, do it just for you."  He looked away bashfully.

"That's a good criteria for a girlfriend, Eliot." She tried not to sound
patronizing, "But what's wrong with just having a good time together?"

He shrugged.

"I mean, are you going to go without sex forever, just because you can't
make it work with Miss Right."

"Stop talking like a teacher, Wendy." But he was smiling.  He looked up at
her, his smile slipping away, not quite ready to revert back to thinking of
her as a person, "Why do you fuck around so much?"

She held back a frustrated sigh, meeting his skeptical gaze, "Eliot, when
you put your arms around me." she felt herself gulping, knowing she was
bullshitting him, "I just wanted. after what I'd done today. I just wanted
to be with someone who wasn't such a bastard.  Someone.  I don't know, I
needed to remind myself that sex wasn't just laying down and taking it while
some guy does his thing."

But she knew that was really all she could expect from these boys.  In spite
of all her acting she was really only looking for one thing, an escape from
whatever connection they had forged, an answer to the pounding shame in her
head and the utter helplessness she felt in the presence of the men who had
started her down this path.  She was both trying to gain some control back
by choosing these boys to have her and use her, while seeking the horrific
sensations that had given her so much solace in the arms of Mr. Gold.

Maybe Eliot had seen the distant look in her eyes as they talked, but she
was pretty sure that he still didn't believe her, "Look, Eliot.  I didn't
mean to wind up with you and James tonight.  I'd have probably gone to a bar
and found some guy to spend the night with, to make me forget all about the
John's and Mr. Gold.  But I found you instead.  It turns out I like you, I
like being with you."

That at least was true when he wasn't treating her like shit, "I just don't
know why liking to fuck makes me such a bitch to you."

He peered at her, "Show me your tits."

Without hesitation she unzipped the coat and held it open.

Eliot pushed the car door open, grabbed the lever under the seat and pushed
himself all the way back.  Unzipping his jeans he said, "Suck me off." And
pulled out his penis, rock hard and rigid already, the tip glistening.

Miss Caulder again didn't hesitate.  Reacting automatically to his demands
was an act, she wanted to let him know she was his, in spite of her
defiance.  She was on her knees in the parking lot, leaning into the car,
taking him into her mouth, only hesitating a moment to let the jacket slip
down her shoulders a bit so he could have access to her breasts if he wanted
it.  He was long and lean, like the body on a well shaped athlete, his penis
would have taken two hands to cover it, and was just thick enough that her
fingers could touch at the tips, although her mouth, though wide open had
little trouble embracing it.  She was glad, in spite of the trouble it had
caused that she'd made him wait.  It would have hurt a lot going in dry, but
properly inserted, she might be able to ride this like she had tried and
failed to ride John-two.

She was by no means experienced at the kind of oral sex she'd seen in
movies.  Mr. Gold notwithstanding, she had seldom used it as more than
foreplay for real sex, but she gave herself with vigor to the boy pressing
as hard as she could with her lips, using her head, slurping on her spit
with gusto as it gathered in foamy strands between his manhood and her
mouth.

"Was it that easy for Mr. Gold?" Eliot asked abruptly.  She hadn't noticed
that he was refusing to enjoy her ministrations.

"What?" she asked, but he pushed her head back onto his cock and she was
forced to mumble a negative over his pulsing glans.

"Did John and John just say 'spread'em' before they had you."

Again, she forced another negative mumble, slurping at the spittle that was
dribbling from her mouth.

The pressure from his had was increasing, "Mr. Gold didn't even have to ask,
did he?  You just grabbed his dick and went at it, didn't you?"

She tried to shake her head, but was being pushed further down onto the boy'
s shaft.

"You fucked the whole football team, didn't you?"

Again she shook her head, her whole face felt like it was engulfed with
massive dick.  She started breathing heavily out of her nose.

"But you would, wouldn't you?  You'd spread your legs for any guy with more
meat than brains."

She couldn't even moan a response, slurping and sucking him.

"And after they tossed you off like a soiled, dirty slut you came after us."

She managed to open her mouth a bit, and moan, "No." over his throbbing
dick.

He pulled her head up, slobber pouring over his cock, running over the side
of her face, his member nuzzled against her cheek where he again pinned her
tight.

"How many guys have you fucked?"

She could look up into his eyes feeling nothing less than the terror she'd
felt when she thought the John's were going to rape her, "I don't know,
nine-ten."

"That's bullshit!" he spat the words in her face, tightly grappling her
hair.  "You like it!  You like fucking jocks, admit it!"

She refused to reply, not knowing if yes or no would be a lie.

"You're Mr. Gold's Bitch, and you just want us to get you off because he
doesn't!"

She couldn't help at wondering at the accuracy of that statement, though Mr.
Gold had only had her twice.  She couldn't see with any degree of certainly
a scenario in which Mr. Gold wouldn't be able to use her whenever he wanted
to, and he certainly had left her craving exactly the kind of satisfaction
she had been trying to get from these boys.

"Fucking stop it, Eli!" James whispered to his friend from the back seat.

"She won't even deny it." But he let go of her and she slipped down to the
asphalt of the parking lot her head resting against Eliot's knee.

He pushed at her head, "Go get the smokes."

"Eliot." she pleaded, looking up at him.

But he wouldn't look back at her, "I'll fuck you later, all right?  Just get
the stuff."

She fumbled with the zipper, but was shaking too much to get it up.

Go already!" Eliot barked, and she stumbled to her feet, pulling the coat up
and folding it over to try and cover her tummy.  She could feel the air
where her breasts pushed it open in the center.  It was after all sized to
fit the scrawny James.


Continued in Part 4

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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