Sex education class
Joan Frazer hurried down the worn linoleum hallway of old Montock High School, books and her class record under one arm, a small can of film gripped tightly in her other hand. Her long, satiny brunette hair cascaded over her shoulders as she walked quickly, her form-hugging dress stretching tautly over her body and accentuating the fluid lines of her movements.
She had the body of a lush young Venus, even though she had recently celebrated her thirty-first birthday over the Christmas holidays. If the young boys and girls of Montock High had cared to take full notice of her charms -- and some of them had sneaked long and admiring glances at her -- they could have traced in detail her sensual curves and hollows through the pink velveteen dress she wore this day. Through its sheer, stretched thinness could be seen the outline of her white nylon brassiere, which barely hid the high-set roundness of her firm, full breasts whose rose-tipped nipples clearly punched against the covering fabric. The short-hemmed dress molded down over a slender, girlish waist and a flat, smooth stomach to a long, full-swelling thighs; and where the dress ended, slim curved legs tapered down to slender well-formed calves and ankles.
Miss Frazer's rich dark hair framed an oval-shaped face that was almost classic in its cameo proportions. Her hazel eyes were deep-set and large, giving her an innocent appearance which belied her age. She had a dainty, slightly curved nose with a few small freckles dotted puckishly across its bridge, and her full ripe mouth had a lower lip which was almost perpetually set in a little-girl pout. The unmarried teacher was beautiful in a youthful manner that guaranteed to attract admiring attention from the most discriminating of men, and the dart-eyed envy of jealous, less well endowed women.
She was walking rapidly to Room 12, and the last class of the day; normally this would have produced happiness within her. In one hour she could say goodbye to her young pupils and head toward home, but the coming hour today was one she dreaded with all of her might, just as she had hated this class every week since the beginning of the school year last September. Once a week she had been experiencing the nightmarish horror of having to stand in front of the small group of youthful students and keeping a tight check on her quaking inner emotions, so that they would not be able to guess the torment which surged through her increasingly as the minutes ticked by. Her agony was of her own doing, she fully knew; a product of her past catching up with her, and of her present throwing temptation continually up into her face. Miss Joan Frazer was the teacher of Montock High's experimental sex education course. The once-a-week class on Wednesdays had probably been the hottest controversy to strike the farming community of Montock since the mayor had been in session since September, seven months ago, still the small town was split with the emotional fury of whether sex and procreation should be taught in the schools. For some years now, educators had been pressing for sex education in one form or another, ranging from a simple birds-and-bees outline to a comprehensive, multi-grade study of sexual techniques that included lessons in premarital intercourse, venereal diseases, masturbation, sodomy, and other forms of "unnatural", if commonly practiced acts.
The "Progressives", mostly in the state's few large cities, had argued that the family and church had failed in supplying a healthy, knowledgeable program to adolescents, and were cloaking their own fears and dogmas in embarrassed and harmful silence. The modern generation, these educators maintained, was smarter, sharper, and more solid than any other in the history of the world. The boys and girls growing up today wanted facts, not superstition, and as they matured into young men and woman, they had a right to know the truth about their budding sexuality. The most basic condition of the human animal could no longer hide behind the prudish skirts of their parents, and should be presented logically and matter-of-factly so that they could gain an adult outlook instead of the immature back-room gutter attitudes that had traditionally been formed through ignorance.
The "fundamentalists" fought back just as hard. Their arguments ranged from scriptural quotations and the Saint Augustine concept of "Original Sin", to sex education being a Communist plot for the subverting of American youth into degeneracy, to the concept that classroom teaching would sterilize the romance and love out of sex. Sex had to be taught with a foundation of decency, they said; a child who learned sex as he would tennis would never have the respect, awe, or control of his growing desires, and would soon become cynical and immoral. And like religion, they argued, the ethics and decencies which made sex more than just copulation between man and woman were too varied from family to family for a mere teacher to present effectively.
Montock was rural, away from the centers of the state, and its outlook was narrow and firmly planted in tradition. Not unexpectedly, the small town was almost entirely on the side of the "fundamentalists", and so convinced were its citizens in the inherent evil of sex education, that they were caught off-guard by the passing of a sex education law in the state congress. Sex courses were made mandatory in all school districts as of the current school year, and as a result, the Freshman class of Montock High was given a chance to learn about sex every Wednesday afternoon whether their parents liked it or not.
The State Board of Education had passed down a series of guidelines, starting with the rule that the class was voluntary -- up to a point. There had to be at least five students mixed between the sexes, and in Montock, there were only five students who were in Joan Frazer's class. Because the concept of sex education was so new, and opinion as to methods and subject matter were so varied, the Board had decided to allow each district a wide margin in choice of what to present. Later, after a few years of experiment, a more standardized format would be decided upon, they said, based on what would be learned now.
It so happened that Montock's principal, Ozgood Blatherton, was a pompous little man who had dreams of becoming principal of larger and better schools in one of the big cities, and he had latched on to the sex education issue as a spring-board to make a name for himself. Consequently, he had set up one of the most frank and explicit courses in the state, pulling no punches in his effort to prove to Montock and his superiors that sex education was an effective and desirable program. The film Joan carried in her hand, for example, was one which would have been banned as obscene if it had been screened in a regular theater, and some of her previous teaching material would have been termed pornographic if the public at large had been aware of their content. Mr. Blatherton had also been the one who had selected the five "volunteers" for her class, and with an unerring eye for further trouble, he had chosen three of the crudest ruffians in the Freshman class, including the son of Montock's most prominent citizen, and two young girls who had a reputation for wild, loose behavior. And then he had handed the powder-keg package over to Joan Frazer last September and washed his hands of the affair...
A bell rang in the distance, reverberating down the hall in warning that the seventh and final period was about to begin. Why me? Joan asked herself painfully as she reached the door to Room 12... Oh God, why had Ozgood Blatherton picked me for this class?
It was a mental question which she had asked herself ever since last September when she'd been given the assignment, but deep inside her, Joan knew the awful answer. Ozgood Blatherton may have been pompous and career-hungry, but he was also devilishly shrewd, and he saw that while he could take all the credit if the sex education course went well, he had to be careful or he would be ruined if something went wrong. None of the other teachers at Montock High could be used, as they all had been at the school for years and years, but Joan Frazer was a new arrival, only having taught at Montock for one year previous to this. She was unmarried and young, and therefore automatically suspect in the eyes of the community, and worse, she had come from "Back East" somewhere, from one of the big cities. In time she might prove her worth to the town, but right now she would serve as a perfect scapegoat if Ozgood Blatherton's plan back-fired on him.
Joan's credentials had been perfect when she first came to Montock seeking work, and even though some people had thought it strange that she would chose such an out-of-the-way place, the local School Board had hired her immediately. What the town didn't know, and what would have turned Blatherton to an ashen grey if he had learned, was that in her heart, Joan was carrying a guilty and soul-sickening secret. In reality, the principal couldn't have picked a worse person to teach the young boys and girls about sex, for it was the same as sending a fox into a chicken-coop to teach hens how to lay eggs. The outwardly prim school-marm had been running from arrest and censure when she'd arrived in Montock, just as she'd been fleeing from one terrible incident after another since she had grown to adulthood. It was the damning secret which had prevented her from marrying, and kept her crying herself to sleep on cold, lonely nights...
Joan Frazer was a pedophile!
The inwardly depraved older woman had been cursed with a maddening desire for young boys, adolescents 14 and 15 who were less than half her age! It had all started when she was twelve; a boy cousin two years older introduced her to the pleasant wonders of sex while her parents were out. There had followed the sweet delights of countless boys as she'd grown up and dated, but then had come the miserable realization when she'd been in teacher's college that men her own age simply didn't interest her. Her sexual urges were greater than ever, but the husky, meaty, overpoweringly strong attentions of adult males, with their big hairy bodies and gigantic-sized penises made her cringe with revulsion. She still yearned for the tender, innocent shyness of young boys who were first experimenting with the mysteries of their budding genitals. They were all so responsive and eager to learn... and she was the perfect teacher!
Lecherously, she had begun to seduce some of her students after she'd become a graduate teacher, craving their slim, boyish hardness deep up inside her warm, demanding vagina with a passion she'd never, never been able to generate for men their father's age. Her all-consuming perversion had begun to dominate her life, her time spent mostly with plotting whom to seduce next and how best to succeed, or fearing the slip of an inexperienced tongue or sudden discovery. Driven as she was, Joan had taken chances no normal person would have dared to, abandonedly stripping naked in the backs of cars for some young boy of her choice, or hungrily removing the pants of still another eagerly trembling male-child in her own bedroom, disregarding the threat of public exposure and even prison. And eventually, her frenzied ways had always ended in downfall and a panicked running...
Montock was the absolute end of the line for her. She had known it when she'd arrived in the dusty village, breathless and broke from her most recent escape from Dayton, Ohio.
Now, simply walking into Room 12 of Montock High and looking at the fresh-faced boys and girls smiling expectantly back at her, she was reminded of just such a similar classroom in Dayton. She groaned inwardly as she made her way to her desk at the front, sinking down gratefully in her chair before her slim legs buckled beneath her. God... Dayton, Ohio...
The incident which had happened there to her was still a red, painfully open wound in her memory, even after two years...
In Dayton, she had managed to get a job teaching remedial reading to junior high students, and one boy in her class had tragically formed a crush on her. Tommy Hotchkiss had been his name, a handsome boy not yet fourteen, whose puppy love for her had reached the innermost depths of Joan's heart. She had fought her unquenchable desire for the youth, just as she was fighting her wild, unpredictable urges now in Montock, but then had come one of those occasions when the ravenous need had been too overpowering for her to control. She and young Tommy had been alone in the classroom, and while leaning over his temptingly virile form to help him with a difficult sentence, the boy had suddenly reached up and kissed her full on her soft, warm lips. The dam of her pent-up emotions had burst, and before she had realized what they were doing, she had found herself on the floor with him, exploring his genitals while he'd sucked hungrily at one of her firm, nakedly exposed breasts.
Eventually she had taken all of his clothes off, and then delightedly she had stripped naked before his quivering flesh, enjoying the hot desire in his eyes dancing across her white, pulsing loins. She had lain and splayed her legs wide for him, and the boy had eagerly crawled over her nakedly abandoned body, inserting his slender, lust-stiffened young penis up inside her tight, moistly throbbing pussy to tickle and prod her there. It had been Tommy's first orgasm; and the hot sweet semen emitting in jet-like spurts from his rigid young penis had almost frightened him with its ferocity, but he had soon wanted more. And Joan had lewdly been willing to supply all he'd wanted!
But their carnal affair had ended and, as always for the wickedly seductive teacher, it had ended disastrously for her. They had been caught half naked behind the school furnace by the janitor, old Johannsen, and the bewhiskered man had forced her to suck his leathery cock until he'd cum in her mouth, while Tommy had watched in absolute horror. Joan had known that even if Tommy or Johannsen never told about her uncontainable perversion, it was the end of her in Dayton...
And this sex education class, she thought miserably, might very well be the end of her for all time. She had been barely able to control her ever-mounting desires for her boy students since Dayton, masturbating with the dreams of virile young penises and eager, innocent caresses whenever the lascivious demands inside her grew to the danger point. She'd realized from the start that if she failed to keep her corrupting degeneracies in rein this time, there could be no other place to which she could escape, and with that fear pressing on her every action, the emotional frustration of being surrounded by the handsome young bodies every day had been repressed. But now... now she not only had to face the youthful objects of her most fevered desires, she had to teach them the very subject she had sworn to stay away from!
God... she had to keep hold of herself! She just had to!
Joan once again set her mind to gain control of the ragged emotions this class always caused her to suffer, sucking in a deep, heated breath and gripping her desk with quivering hands. It was not a simple matter for her to do, but she managed, mainly by blotting out the remembrance of Tommy Hotchkiss and concentrating on the students before her.
"Class," she said, smiling at them, "I've a new film to show today. This is the most... the most explicit showing of boys and girls together."
She happened to look at Wayne Conroy, who was leaning on his elbows at his first-row desk, his chin resting in his cupped hands. God, he was a handsome boy, she thought, in a split-second flash of desire. Her eyes traveled brazenly for a moment on the width of his young shoulders, the ripple of his developing muscles, and the taper of his boyish waist as he sat in his seat. Wayne was the son of Montock's richest and biggest farmer, Agnew Harrison Conroy, and had a bad reputation as trouble-maker and bully. His swaggering manner could be traced to his father's position, which allowed him to get away with things other boys couldn't afford to do, and to the maturity for his fifteen years, which made him larger and stronger than the rest of his classmates. Joan Frazer knew this, but it wasn't enough to stop her from one fleeting thought: God... I wonder what the rest of him is like, the part I can't see...
Wayne's eyes met hers and then skipped away to blatantly trace the contours of her throat down to the cleavage between her ripely mature breasts under the thin spring dress. Joan's throat turned instantly dry, and she felt her face warm with a sudden rush of blood which crimsoned her cheeks and temples. Damn! It was as if he could read her mind!
"We... We are up to the point of actual sexual intercourse now," she stammered to the students, hurriedly attempting to cover her fluster. "We've studied the sex organs individually, and... and last week, if you remember, we saw slides, on how each sex matures physically."
One of the girls, petite Sharla Gronsworth, giggled appreciatively from where she sat. Joan looked at her sharply, frowning with disapproval. "Sharla," she scolded the little blonde girl, "by this time I would think you would have been able to get over your childishness. This is a serious subject, and you must be a young adult about it."
"That's just it, teacher," Micky Hagen said, "Sharla's very adult about sex."
"Most mature," another boy, Nick "Knuckles" Gerber, hooted derisively. "Amazing how grown-up she is when it comes to sex!"
"Sure! Just look at her," Wayne added gleefully. "You can see just how mature she is!"
"Stop it!" Joan Frazer snapped in an effort to restore order to the now loudly laughing class. "Nick, would you take the movie and thread it in the projector, please?"
"Knuckles" came forward with a knowing smirk and took the can of film back to the large 16 mm projector which was on a stand at the back of the room. In a moment he'd wound the celluloid through the lens and sprockets, called to the other girl, Lucy Hamilton, to switch off the lights and switched on the machine.
Joan moved from her chair just as light flickered on the silver screen behind her, the screen having been set up by the audio-visual department during the class break. She went to one of the student desks and sat down so she could watch the motion picture as well, nervously crossing her legs and squeezing her thighs together. She dug the nails of her left hand into the palm of her right, and pressed the full, moist lips of her mouth tightly together, and she could feel her heart palpitating like a trip-hammer beneath the thin cloth of her dress and brassiere. God... don't make this film too sexy, she prayed. I don't think I could take it if it were...
Her eyes glanced to the small screen just as the title, "THE WEDDING NIGHT" came on in large letters in color. She had never seen this particular movie before, though she had heard about it as one of the most detailed films available. She was afraid that it might show young people rather than older adults, as had some of the earlier books and slides, for every time she had seen a naked boy illustrated in some form of sexual awakening, familiar and unwanted sensations had coursed through her own body, tingling every nerve end with rising arousal. She had a slight twinge of doubt in her mind about whether she could sit through such a picture if, indeed, it showed in full-color action the love-making of a young boy with his girl. The fever pitch of excitement it would surely produce in her already trembling loins would betray her guilty secret to her students the moment the lights were switched back on! Somehow she had to overcome her secret longings and not succumb as she had so many other times in the past! No matter what this movie showed, she couldn't let it affect her sexually! She mustn't let it!
"... it was a wonderful wedding," a man's voice was droning from the projector's loudspeaker. On the screen was flashing the picture of a church, and people throwing rice to a happily running bride and groom. "But after the ceremony comes a still more important phase of their relationship," the voice continued. "The Bible says for man and woman to become as one in matrimony, and it is during the honeymoon that the newly wedded couple must join together as Nature intended for them to do..."
On the screen appeared a young, innocent-looking blonde girl in a wedding gown, standing beside a large bed. She could not have been over seventeen and was the most lovely thing Joan had ever seen. She had a dazzling look of adoration in her eyes that reflected her deep happiness and love, and in spite of the realization that this meant her husband would be similarity youthful, Joan was touched deeply. She identified completely with the girl at that moment, and concentrated completely on what she was doing. The young bride began to undress with slow, shy motions. She slipped her long white satin gown hesitantly upwards, exposing the high-set calves, and then full, well-rounded thighs. The tan of her sheer nylon stockings, held in place by a dainty, lace-trimmed garter belt, contrasted pleasingly with the creamy ivory of her exposed flesh.
Jean could hear the low sounds of delight from the boys in her class as the dress snaked its way over the girl's head and her beautifully proportioned body fully emerged. Her brassiere fell away with a flick of her fingers, and the unripened beauty of her firm young breasts swung into freedom. They stood high and proud in the light of the screen, and their quivering, turgid nipples peaked higher on the luscious spheres as the teen-aged bride raised her arms over her head in a cute little yawn.
The girl was almost naked now, wearing only her high heels, long tan stockings, the garter belt, and a thin wisp of sheer panties. The voice of the commentator was talking about the necessity for the bride not to show fear if she was coming to her marital bed as a virgin, and all the while the girl was drawing her silken panties tantalizingly down over her gently curved hips and buttocks. She turned and bent over slowly, her back to the audience; brushing her thin panties sensuously against her smooth thighs and calves, and then discarded them at her feet beside her dress. She stretched languidly again and teasingly turned to the front, exposing shamelessly all of her delicious young nakedness, from her high-tilted breasts to the soft, blonde triangle of her girlish pubic mound.
The naked young bride lay back on the bed then, her legs scissoring open and closed slowly, exposing the thin pink slit of her vagina that nestled teasingly in the soft curly hair up between her thighs. Her feet were pointed directly at the camera, and sheer wanton desire reflected in her eyes as though she wished to take on every boy who was watching her.
"She is now ready to receive her husband, and as you can see, boys and girls, she is most eager for him..."
Joan shifted nervously, not having expected anything like this! It seemed so real that the older woman teacher couldn't understand how the girl could act such a part unless she really felt it. She remembered lying in her own bed this very morning and thinking about wanting a handsome boy until she had almost gone insane and relieved herself with her own fingers. She blushed slightly in the darkness, thankful that the lights were out, guilt flicking slightly through her conscience. She squirmed her own buttocks nervously, feeling the edge of the desk chair brush electrically against the soft swelling of her vagina. She jerked from the contact and the more unexpected shock it had brought. Her breath quickened...
"The groom has, in the meantime, been undressing and is about to join his new wife in the most wonderful of all human adventures," the voice from the loudspeaker informed gravely. "Please notice that because his bride has shown her complete desire for him, he is sexually ready almost from the beginning..." A boy suddenly walked within camera range, and Joan felt her heart leap in her throat. Oh no! He's so damned handsome! He was dark-haired in contrast to his lovely pert bride, with flashing black eyes and a cocky grin on his youthful, clean-shaven face, and Joan estimated that he couldn't have been over eighteen by the look of him. She groaned inwardly as she stared wide-eyed and transfixed at the screen and viewed the teenage boy undress from his black wedding tuxedo. His pants fell to the floor quickly, and his hardened, virile penis could be seen standing out in front of him like a straight branch of a tree. The boy had obviously been chosen for the role because of his maturity, for his slender young cock was easily equal to that of a grown man. The young groom edged for the bed, smiling with his panting anticipation, and he crawled up on the mattress beside his girl to kneel slave-like between her wide-spread thighs. The pubic hair covering the mound at the base of her white little belly was soft and sparse, and the tiny pink folds of flesh covering the narrow slit of her tender vagina were plainly visible.
"One of the most important factors to happy marital relations," the voice intoned, "is proper foreplay. In this day and age, forms which were once considered as perversions and acts against God are now realized as healthful enjoyments and natural additions to the sex act itself. Please watch carefully..."
The camera came in for a close-up of her eager young pussy just over the top of the boy's head. He reached forward, placing one thumb on either side of the narrow hair-lined slit and spread her moistly pink lips slowly apart, exposing the layered vaginal flesh. The camera zoomed in closer and her bud-like little clitoris could be viewed just above the tight elastic opening of her cunt, quivering with obvious excitement as the boy moved forward until his face was only inches away from her exposed vaginal channel. The youthful groom's tongue snaked out and its tip swiped across the wetly glistening cuntal flesh before him, sending her tiny clitoris into jerking hardness that brought groans of delight not only from the young girl, but from the sex education class which was so avidly viewing the scene.
"The groom is performing the age-old act of cunnilingus, boys and girls; this type of oral-genital contact is in vogue throughout much of the world and there is mention of the act being performed throughout all history..."
Joan Frazer dared not to breathe. The sight of the hotly aroused boy had turned her own body into a loose bundle of raw nerve ends that her mind could not control. She could not comprehend what she was viewing on the screen in front of her or the unwanted feelings she was experiencing as licking flames of rising desire began fanning out through the very first of the movie, Joan was now so absorbed that she could imagine herself there on the bed, receiving the delicious attention from a handsome naked boy so much like the kind she loved so well. She could feel small pin-pricks of erotic sensation racing through the quivering flesh of her inner thighs and up to the tautly hardening nipples of her throbbing breasts, and she pressed her legs tightly together to try and stop the taunting stimulations from getting any worse...
The naked youth wetly teased the pinkly quivering lips of his bride's throbbing cunt with his tongue for another agonizing moment, and then he began to run his lips up and down the full length of the widely-spread vagina, bringing contorted expressions of joy to the girl's face that could now be seen in the camera. The girl wrapped her hands into the young groom's black head of hair, and the muscles in her arms stood out tight and strained as she pulled his face forward with all her strength into the moist wetness of her loins. Her hips began a slow hard grinding up against his face as he sank his tongue with a sudden lizard-like thrust deep down into the tightness of her clasping young pussy. She was rapidly becoming a raw, quivering mass of feminine desire, writhing and twisting like a slow moving belly-dancer under the boy's hot probing tongue.
With each passing frame of film, Joan felt herself mentally tighten up until she didn't feel as if she was the same person she had been when the class had started. The heat and excitement the movie was generating in the room was continuing to stimulate her hotly against her will. She uncrossed her legs and squirmed down against the desk seat again, feeling the rounded edge of the chair push her dress and panties up into the wetly pulsating crevice of her vagina. She rubbed herself gently against it, working the thin band of panties which ran beneath the crease of her buttocks up between the moistened lips of her pussy, and unconsciously she let her body rock on it in an almost indiscernible rhythm -- in concert with the writhing girl on the screen. She could feel the wetness spread between her inner thighs, and she spread them slightly to gain greater contact with the seat. The hardness brushed soothingly against her tiny, involuntarily rising clitoris through the sheer panties.
Jean looked guiltily out of the corner of her eye at the young students around her to make sure they hadn't noticed what she was uncontrollably doing to herself. But both the boys and the girls were so engrossed in the film that they had paid no attention. She let her eyes wander back to the motion picture, almost afraid of what she would view next and the effect it would have on her already wildly heated emotions...
"Our young husband has now brought his virginal wife to a high state of excitement," the loudspeaker said. "Sensing that she is sexually ready to accept his ultimate advances, he is now going to insert his penis inside her vagina and thrust vigorously in and out until he experiences ejaculation..."
The handsome youth had risen from between the undulating thighs now and was climbing up over the soft, warm flesh of his eagerly awaiting bride. His boyish hardness stood out in the air like a huge fleshy shaft, and he had his hand around it, rubbing the wetly lubricated head softly against the tender curls of her soft pink pubic flesh. Then he straightened his lean, adolescent nakedness over her nude body, straddling her, with the rigidity of his long thin cock poised directly at the trembling round whiteness of her inner thighs. Joan held her breath, as did her pupils, when she viewed the red bulbous head of the boy's penis make contact with the moist open fringes of the girl's pussy, and then she watched, not breathing, as the passion-crazed bride reached down with her hand and guided him into her. The girl moved his virile erection up and down in the wetly glistening crevice for a moment, parting her soft pubic hair, and then with a moaning sigh of desire, slipped his young penis just inside the tight confines of her vaginal tunnel.
Joan Frazer's eyes were wide with hypnotized wonderment as she viewed the boy's throbbing cock slide slowly up into the hungrily clasping lips of his young wife's cunt, and she heard through ringing ears the soft sibilant sound as it wetly entered her. The teenage girl moaned once, shivered slightly, and became momentarily rigid, and the announcer informed the class that this was the moment when her virginal hymen was being ruptured. But almost immediately her eyes became glazed with lust once more, and her lips bared back over small white teeth into a broad smile of utter delight. She undulated her buttocks up off the bed until all Joan could see was a small bit of the base of the long white cock protruding from the moistly tight lips surrounding it.
The equally passion-driven boy began a slow grinding up and down movement, with his naked young buttocks rising in the air until the tip of his rock-hard penis was left just inside the warm enclosing sheath of her vagina. Then he dropped heavily back down between her wide-splayed thighs, impaling himself completely with one long, smooth stroke. The camera moved around from the side of the two lovers to view up between their straining legs, and Joan could now watch the girl's pussy lips moving in and out with each pumping surge he made into her fully exposed cuntal slit. The hypnotized older teacher and her attentive students could see tiny ridges of soft pink vaginal flesh clinging to the thick impaling shaft each time the boy drew back, the pussy lips disappearing as he slid down upon her gently. After another moment of rhythmic sawing, the girl seemed to warm still more to her task and reached down between his widespread thighs to cradle the softness of his virile young testicles in her palm. The voice from the soundtrack drew attention to what she was doing and the class watched wide-eyed as she stroked her lover's scrotum gently while he fucked into her with his gently thrusting cock. From the profile they presented, it appeared that his spearing young penis was a thick, wetly glistening piston of flesh moving methodically in and out of her eagerly assisting vagina.
Joan tried to turn her head away, a tight restrictive feeling digging deep within her belly. She had never imagined what it would be like to watch two people making love, particularly a boy she would have loved to have had fucking her, and she found it affecting her to a degree that she had difficulty in controlling. She could sense the strange, light-fingered quivering up between her thighs building rapidly in strength, and she knew that she was close to losing what little self-restraint she had been able to muster these past few months since Dayton. She closed her eyes tightly, but still the vision of the lovely young boy's cock, wet and glistening, skewering into the moist softness of his bride's vagina raced through her mind. She clenched her eyes still tighter, but could not blot out the lewdly enticing picture she'd been viewing on the screen; and the adolescent couple's soft moans and the wet sucking noises of their intercourse, interspersed with the announced detailed description of what they were doing, drifted across the small classroom to her ears, magnifying the obscene image a thousand times. She was ready to crawl the walls to quench the fire which was now raging uncontrollably through her involuntarily contracting vagina. The sight of the girl in that movie being buffeted by a youthful boy mercilessly fucking into her once-virginal cunt was just too much for the helplessly aroused teacher to take! Something had to give!
Something did!
"Now they will experience orgasm; the final bliss of human copulation..." But the man was drowned out by another sound coming from the loudspeaker, a spiraling cry of climax which erupted from the writhing bride's mouth. She was twisting her head wildly from side to side on the bed as her slender white buttocks began a wild rotation up tight against the thick virile penis which was sunk so deep in her young belly. At the same time, the boy groaned above her and ground down hard inside her vagina, and his long fleshy hardness began to throb out white, milky sperm deep up into her tiny womb. The rich creamy fluid filled her completely, and cascaded out around the moistly stretched lips of her cunt. To Joan's mesmerized eyes, there was a clear view of a tiny white stream of the boy's cum running down the wide-split crevice of her buttocks and down onto the mattress below. The young couple jerked against each other a moment longer, and then lay still...
The screen went blank with flickering white light, leaving the salacious scene -- a deflowered young bride and her youthful lover lying together in satiated contentment -- imprinted deeply in the minds of the breathless class. The small room was filled with the heated air of their excited breathing which had accompanied the passion-inciting lesson in sex education. No one present had not felt the sensations of lust at that final climax, including the trembling, dry-mouthed teacher herself. Every boy had the front of his trousers bulging with the tell-tale sign of their arousal, and the young girls all had their legs spread as far apart as Joan's had been, their thin white panties moist with the secretions of their movie-induced excitement.
It was with a long sigh of relief that Joan Frazer rose on shaky legs and made her way to the light switch. She had never been so affected sexually by anything, and it frightened her. There was a rustle of clothing being straightened as she flicked the lights on, and she herself smoothed down the front of her dress, feeling shamefully wet up between her thighs. She was at a loss for words for a long moment, and then mercifully the bell rang. "That will be all for this week, class," she said in a voice that sounded even strange to her, opening the door to the corridor. "Next week... next week we have another film."
God... another film like this one? She shuddered at the thought as the boys and girls filed past her and out into the hall. She wasn't sure she could take another one of these erotically stimulating movies, for she was as close to losing her hard-won self control as she had ever been since Dayton, and in another few moments, would herself have been as helpless a victim of passion as the girl had been on the screen. And then what would have happened? Oh God, and then...?
CHAPTER TWO
"Gosh!" fifteen year-old Wayne Conroy said behind his teacher. Joan Frazer turned around, startled, not having noticed that the boy hadn't left the classroom along with the others.
She looked at Wayne and, after the headying influence of the movie, was terribly aware of his vibrant young body that was less than a foot away from her. She could almost feel the warmth of his youthful virility pulsating out toward her from the smooth, hairless flesh that was beneath his shirt and pants, and she felt a twinge of hot desire to reach out with her hand and caress the flat curve of his belly down to where it disappeared into his faded blue jeans.
Wayne smiled up at her almost brazenly, and wiped his perspiring forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. "That sure was the wildest sex movie I've ever seen."
"It... its purpose was educational, Wayne," Joan replied as primly as she could, trying to muster her control to hide her inner turmoil. "It... wasn't meant to be anything more than that."
"Aw, I didn't mean it was dirty or anything like that," Wayne said, scuffing the toe of one shoe with embarrassment. "I kinda figure it's all how you look at it."
"That's exactly right," Joan said. She walked over to her desk, swallowing thickly, and kept her eyes steadfastly off the boy as she picked up her books and class records. "Sex... Sex isn't obscene in itself. It can be beautiful or fun or not much of anything at all, but not obscene. The film today showed love-making, not dirt."
"Well, what's all the fuss over porno -- pornog..."
"Pornography. It's a matter of definition, I'd say. If a person thinks sex is obscene, then whatever has to do with it is, by definition, pornographic. But if the act of eating was thought to be sinful, and the people in government or the church had the power to force their ways on us, then a picture of your family eating dinner around a table would be pornographic."
"I don't think you'd get my father to go along with that!" Wayne laughed. "He loves eating too much! But then, I guess he likes sex a lot, too."
Joan felt a blush creep slowly up through the skin of her face. "I... I would hope so, if he's a healthy married adult," she said, feeling the conversation was slipping away from her control.
"Naw," Wayne said with a slight sneer. "I mean the old man likes por -- pornography. He's got a basement full of the stuff, and..."
"Wayne!" Joan said sharply. "Your father is the leading man in Montock. He's the leader of the fight against sex education, as you well know; and I'm sure that he would be very hurt if he heard you talk about him that way!"
"Aw, so he started the Concerned Parents of PTA Committee to try and stop you; but that don't mean a thing. My ma got him to do it, and she dried up years ago. But he runs the smokers at the American Legion, and when he gets with his dumb friends, they go down into the basement with a load of beer... and I can hear them snickering clear up in my bedroom sometimes. He goes out to Sadie's sometimes, too. You know about Sadie's? She runs that cat-house outside of town, and..."
"That will be quite enough, young man!" Joan interrupted him icily. "Whether your father does or does not, I don't want to hear about it, not in my classroom. What we're trying to teach you in sex education is the adult, healthy attitude toward love and procreation."
Wayne shrugged, as if the vile sound of his words about his father didn't mean a thing one way or another. "Well, suit yourself, Miss Frazer. That's not why I stuck around anyway. I was wondering if... well, if you'd drive me home today."
"Oh? Miss your ride?"
"I told 'Knuckles' not to save room for me in his brother's car, because my ma was supposed to pick me up. Now I found out she ain't coming, and it's a long way to walk. Gee, if you'd only drive me as far as your rooming house, that'd be a help, since you live over half the way to my place. Would you, Miss Frazer? Huh, would you?"
Joan stiffened at his request, sensing the hard-won control of a few minutes already faltering. In spite of herself, she could feel tiny butterfly-like sensations flitting suddenly through her stomach, and she blinked her eyes shut, trying not to allow the still smoldering embers of the fire the sex film had lit within her to grow any more heated. She realized haplessly that any wrong move could suddenly fan those glowing coals of passion into a roaring inferno that would consume her and whoever was with her at the time.
Yet what excuse could she possibly use to decline this handsome young boy's request? Montock was such a small town, that there simply was no way of hiding a curt brush-off behind a phony excuse. Wayne would see right through it, and she knew he'd be hurt and possibly hate her for the unexplainable lie. For some reason she still didn't fathom, young Wayne had been very cooperative in her class, contrary to his behavior in some of the others, and she hated to upset the delicate balance that had been struck so far. Moreover, she intuitively knew that one of the reasons she hadn't been as bothered as she could have been by Mr. Agnew Harrison Conroy and his Concerned Parents group was due to Wayne's talking down of the sex education class while at home. To repulse the boy and turn him against her could open up a nightmarish Pandora's box of harassment and eventual ruination.
"Of... course, Wayne," she said, licking her lips with the tip of her moist tongue. "I'll be glad to..."
Joan owned a banged-up old Volkswagen beetle, and when she and Wayne got into it moments later, it was impossible not to become aware of their closeness. She set her mind on the task of driving, however, vowing not to let his nearness affect her any more than it was already. She could feel tiny tendrils of lurid excitement creeping unwontedly through her body as it was, tingling involuntarily up from between her aching secretion-moistened loins, and she struggled with all of her strength to maintain her outward composure. Miserably, Joan realized that not until she was in her apartment and Wayne was safely out of sight and on his way home, would she be truly able to regain control again over her sensually-aroused emotions.
For a small town, Montock had quite a number of people crowding the small "down-town" main street, and Joan had to swerve violently once as an unthinking lady driver suddenly cut her off. Young Wayne Conroy was thrown against her in spite of the bucket seats, and she gasped with a startled cry as the rounded firmness of her breasts brushed against the developing muscles of his shoulder and chest. His touch made the older woman all that more conscious of the virile youth's presence, more than the forced laughter and desultory conversation they'd indulged in since leaving the school grounds. Alone with the boy and without the interruptions of class duties and other students, she was discovering that Wayne was a rather bright, quick-witted teenager, and despite what she had promised herself, a rapport between them was rapidly establishing itself. By the time she parked the small car in front of her rooming house, Joan Frazer was almost sad to see Wayne leave.
There was a long silence of almost embarrassing proportions as the lovely brunette teacher and her handsome young student stood on the cracked sidewalk in front of the house. Joan was mortified by the way she was finding herself tongue-tied, and as she continued to look at Wayne, she tried desperately to stifle the strange nervousness she felt growing within her. There was the same something about the boy that there had been about little Tommy Hotchkiss back in Dayton and all the other youngsters before him -- and it was more than simply a broad-shouldered and leanly muscular young virility. It was as if there was a compelling magnetism between her and the boy, an undeniable "animal attraction" that was wickedly forcing them together no matter what precautions she could take.
"Ahhh, gee, Mrs. Frazer, thanks a lot for the ride," Wayne finally managed to say to her. "Gosh, do you think that... that..." His stammering grew until at last he blurted: "I mean, it's an awful hot day for April, and I'm mighty thirsty. I don't have any money, and I was hoping maybe you could let me have a glass of water before I go."
"Well, Wayne, I think that..." Joan said slowly, unable to make her mind function properly as she felt the boy's eyes gazing immodestly over her thinly clad body. His eyes were almost a solid touch upon her flesh, and they seemed to roam at will up and down from her high, rounded breasts to the full, inviting curves of her buttocks and thighs. No! Tell him to go away! a portion of her mind screamed at her, tell him no before it's too late!
But a savage thrill ran through the heatedly aroused young teacher's body as she watched his unconscious staring at her lush, lightly-covered form. She could feel a slight tremor of response up between her inner thighs as she realized that she was hopelessly gripped with an insane temptation to reach out and stroke the young boy's face in return. It was horrible, she told herself; it was degrading and perverted, and she had to stop herself! Yet in spite of her revulsion at her own animal lustings, Joan was unwillingly becoming more and more aroused by the minute.
"Yes," she said softly to the youth. "Yes, you can come up to my room, Wayne." She prayed that her suddenly uncontrollable excitement was not revealed in her own trembling voice. "I have some soda-pop you can have, how's that?"
"Gee, thanks, Miss Frazer! You're a swell teacher to have!" Wayne enthused gratefully, and bounced up on the old wide porch of the rooming house.
Joan rented a small, three-room apartment on the second floor from the owner of the house, a widowed grandmother named Mrs. O'Toole. It looked out on the weed-grown back yard and the rear of Smiley's Hardware Store, and the dismal sight often depressed Joan when she'd glance out of the dirty windows. It was cramped and smelled of dry-rot, but it was furnished and the only cheap place available in Montock when she'd arrived. As usual, Mrs. O'Toole was away baby-sitting her latest grandchild, and there was no one in sight as Joan and Wayne climbed the rickety narrow stairs to the upper floor. And yet, though nobody knew Wayne was with her, and she had still not touched this delicious child, Joan Frazer had a horrible sinking feeling as she closed the door to her room that she was also sealing her fate for the rest of her life...
"The soda is in the kitchen, Wayne," she said with a gentle smile. "Why don't you sit down on the couch there and make yourself comfortable?"
"Well, are you having one, too Miss Frazer?"
"I... thought I might have a small glass of brandy instead, Wayne," Joan said, already crossing to the cabinet beside the chair. God, yes, she wanted a brandy! She had to have something to suppress her ragged nerves and help her get a better hold of herself before she went straight up through the roof! That damnable sex film... and now Wayne sitting so innocently on her couch... God, maybe she better have two drinks, and big ones at that!
"Well, gee, then I'll go get the soda," the boy said, jumping up from the couch. "Ma never lets me do anything around the house like that. Is it in the refrigerator?"
"Yes, behind the eggs," Joan replied, nodding. She watched him hurry out into the kitchen and then listened for the sound of the refrigerator door opening before taking out the nearly full bottle of brandy and a small wine glass from the cabinet. She unscrewed the top and tilted the bottle, filling the glass to its brim. The hot liquid burned all the way down to her quivering stomach, making her slightly sick until she thought of the desirable male child who was out in the kitchen, and then she lifted the glass again and swallowed the rest of it in one gulp. The warming brandy flowed instantly through her bloodstream, relaxing her and making her feel less guilty. She refilled the glass and drank again, rewarded this second time by a faint lightheadedness that swirled through her gratefully.
But when Wayne returned, smiling happily with his ice-cold bottle of soda clutched in his hand, Joan bit into the soft full flesh of her lower lip, once again tormented by maddening desire. God, it was out of the question, she told herself as she drank again. She just couldn't allow herself to give in to her cravings for him! It was begging for disaster, and after all of the promises she'd made after Dayton and managed to keep, she had to fight it! Damn, damn, damn, she'd hoped the brandy would help settle her, but instead it almost seemed as if it were having an opposite effect on her...
Wayne Conroy sank down on the couch again and took a long pull on the soda. Then he said, "You... you don't mind if I ask you something, Miss Frazer?"
"What?" Joan said, coming out of her own thoughts to hear him. "Oh, no. No, not at all, Wayne. That's what teachers are for."
"Well, gee, it's about what we're learning in the sex class," he said, squirming with childish embarrassment. "Ma keeps telling me that sex is bad. That I'll loose all my teeth and go mad if I... I fool around with myself."
"Masturbate?" Joan said, unable to stop herself.
"Y-Yes, I guess that's what it's called." Wayne blushed a crimson color now and wriggled even more on the couch, the soda pop bottle in his lap, held there by both hands. The bottle looks just like a giant glass penis, Joan caught herself thinking, and then she shivered and turned away, horrified at the lewdness she had pictured in her mind. "But you tell us it's normal, Miss Frazer," the boy went on in an awkward voice. "Just about everybody does it, and it's just a natural thing to do. Gee, I get confused."
"Don't be, Wayne. It's simply a matter that facts are finally winning out over superstition. For centuries people believed certain things because there wasn't any way of actually finding out if they were true or not. Now there are ways, and scientists have proven with studies and experiments that lots of the old beliefs are false. Boys and girls masturbate, and so do lots of adults. If what your mother believes actually was the case, why almost everybody in the world would be running around crazy and without any teeth."
Wayne laughed at the imaginary scene. "Yeah, that would be pretty funny, all right."
"That's why the state has decided on sex education courses," Joan continued. "Too many parents either don't teach anything at all about sex, or if they do, they teach myths and falsehoods that give their children the wrong idea about what's right and wrong."
"Well, gee, then what we saw in the movie today, when the guy went down on his girl -- that's okay?"
"If they both want it. Passion is a very strong thing."
"Pastor Quigley says things like that are sins and only animals do it."
"Humans are animals, Wayne, at least when it comes to how our sex is set up." Joan moved toward one of the windows, feeling the moisture begin again between her tightly pressed thighs. She involuntarily squeezed her buttocks together to quiet the lascivious tingle that was building in her loins. God, if only Wayne wouldn't talk about sex, she groaned to herself, it only made matters worse for her to control! Every word they spoke made her remember the film she'd viewed less than an hour previously. How vividly came that final love-making scene to her mind again, the camera clearly showing the beautiful naked boy's thick, virile penis pumping into the soft, hair-fringed folds of his bride's vagina. The girl's face had been contorted into the most depraved picture of ecstasy Joan could possibly imagine. God, how she must have felt, Joan found herself thinking. And for such a long time I haven't felt that way myself...
"Gee," Wayne said in inexperienced awe, "that girl sure loved what he was doing to her."
Joan drained the brandy in her glass and stepped quickly to the bottle for another shot. "That's... that's what love is all about, Wayne, as you'll discover some day. Love is making people happy."
"Have you ever made love, Miss Frazer?"
Joan almost dropped the glass in her hand at the innocence of the question. She turned around to stare at Wayne, completely unable to find the words to diplomatically answer his blatancy, and was instantly aware of the boy's eyes fastened upon her body again. Joan fought down the almost irresistible impulse to tell him that yes, she had made love, and had made numerous boys just like him happy in the process. She desperately wished she could tell him that she wanted him to fill her aching, empty vagina with his virile young penis so that they could both enjoy each other as the couple in the film had. But she knew that she didn't dare, and that she had to end this acutely arousing conversation before her urges became totally untamable!
"L-look, Wayne," she said, breathing harshly, "I think you'd better go. I... I want to get out of this old work dress and into something more comfortable."
"Gosh, Miss Frazer, shouldn't I have asked you that? About making love? I'm sorry if I said something wrong." The boy's worried voice was on the verge of breaking into tearful anguish. "You want me to go? I hope I didn't make you mad." He peered nervously over the neck of the soda-pop bottle as he took another swallow nervously, and then moved as if to get up off the couch.
Joan watched him shift uncertainly on the edge of the couch. Though he acted as if he could be willing to leave at her command, the helplessly excited teacher could feel his eyes were still glued upon her, staring ravenously at her generously curved body. She could sense that the last remaining fragments of her will-power were rapidly dwindling from her mind, and then she heard a soft, sultry feminine voice she barely recognized as her own begin to speak.
"No, you didn't make me mad, Wayne. You're more than welcome to stay and finish your soda if you like. I'll only be a minute in the bedroom."
The boy stared happily at her for a moment, as though unable to believe his good fortune, and then quickly scooted against the back of the couch. Joan was visibly trembling now from the force of the delicious erotic sensations that were uncontrollably rippling through her nerves, and no longer did she even care whether or not the boy could see the agitation caused by his presence. The only thing of which she was sure now was the sexual current that was jumping like electrical lightning between their two bodies, and her mind was momentarily filled with visions of shameless plans to seduce the young fifteen year-old who sat staring openly at her. Her gaze fell to his faded blue jeans, and the sight of his crotch filled her with still greater passion that both thrilled and terrified her. Bulging out against the soft, washed-out fabric, the older woman could see a stiff, slender form pressing up and outward, and then she ran her eyes over the rest of his slim, virile form, coming to rest again on his face in which confusion and youthful lust so clearly showed. She tipped the brandy glass to her lips and drained its contents for a fourth time, and then walked hurriedly out of the room.
The bedroom door firmly closed behind her, she quickly, almost frantically, began to undress. She couldn't have stayed in the same room with Wayne another second, she thought miserably as she hung her spring dress on a hanger in the closet. Another moment and she'd have attacked him where he sat, and coming in here on the pretext of changing clothes had been the only answer. But what on earth had possessed her to say the boy could stay? He'd all but offered to leave, and then she had insisted that he wait for her to return. What was the matter with her this afternoon? Oh God, she knew... she knew all too well what was the matter with her as she stood on the circular throw rug before the small bureau. She looked down at her brassiere-encased breasts and then down the smooth curve of her exposed belly to the thinly-clothed triangle of her pubic mound, and she could feel the inflamed center of her loins throbbing violently in answer to her own tormenting question. She could feel her vaginal lips tingling madly against the soft silkiness of her gossamer panties, and her nipples growing pebble-hard, pressing hotly out against the suddenly abrasive clinging material as her full curving breasts heaved high and swelled with the sweet agony of her ever-mounting desires, and she knew. Oh God, how she knew!
She began opening the drawers of her bureau in a hasty search for something to wear, her mind still filled with the thoughts of her sexual perversion so long hidden and repressed deep within her, and how the eager young boy out in the living room had awakened her into an overwhelming, enveloping passion. She thought about all this, standing there almost naked and looking down haplessly into the drawers, and then suddenly raised her head and stared at the closed door. She straightened, still undecided as to what she should wear, and turned all the way toward the door, a soft whimpering sound coming from her throat.
He was out there waiting... That beautiful boy, waiting and wanting, just as she was wanting him. He, in his innocence, didn't know what it was that his handsome young body so desperately craved, only that he was filled with the ungovernable desire to look at her, see her breasts, her legs, her buttocks... To see her naked, and most of all, to see her pussy!
Dear God, she was giving into her body's demands inch by inch! Inches! How many did little Wayne have! Four to five, she imagined, just like the other boys she'd lustily enjoyed in the past. She could visualize it now, standing rigidly erect, almost touching his hairless little belly! Oh God -- she didn't dare go out there like this, for she knew that in her present state of arousal there would be no halting her; and she would shamelessly seduce him. She could be wearing a fur coat over a straight-jacket, and somehow she'd manage to beckon to him, and then he'd eagerly respond, and then... God, and then...!
A tremendous surge of lascivious excitement charged through the older woman; and Joan trembled from head to toe; her firmly ripe breasts and taut buttocks rippling in suppressed excitement as she reached for the one outfit that would be the best thing to wear for young Wayne. Frantically she began to dress, her whole naked body trembling from the realization she was surrendering herself to her salacious desires. If it were going to happen, it should happen now, before little Wayne was missed at the Conroy home and he'd have too much explaining to do later on. Yes, it would be now. And then a tear slowly formed in one of her eyes and trickled down her passion-flushed cheek. She was lost. Lost! Every nerve in her sensuous flesh was reacting in a tumult of lecherous yearning, and her reasonings and promises had proven to be only flimsy barriers before the monstrous lusts which had swept them aside and overwhelmed her will-power. Every moral and inhibition in her had melted away in the heat of her renewed passions, every last shred of conscience was gone now as it had been in Dayton and countless cities before that. Her brain whirled and she moaned in shameful defeat, but the needing, hungry pressure of wanting that young boy out there was simply too overpowering to restrain. Her craving had reached the very core of her being, and there was no use fighting it any longer. Oh God, there just wasn't the slightest damned thing she could do to stop herself, was there?
CHAPTER THREE
Young Wayne Conroy was sitting exactly where his older teacher had left him, still clutching his half-empty bottle of soda, when Joan made her appearance. She opened the door of the bedroom and stepped out in front of the boy, smiling provocatively at him.
"Miss Frazer! Holy cow!"
Despite Wayne's obvious wide-eyed wonderment, Joan was certain she detected a brassy glint of sexual interest in the youth's eyes, and she padded barefoot toward him, wishing now that she had had the nerve to come out of the bedroom totally naked. As it was, she was nearly that nude, wearing only a strapless halter and a pair of fire-engine red short-shorts so tight as to show her pubic mound and its teasing little cuntal slit that nestled up between her white thighs. Her long, statuesque legs were bare and curvaceous, and her belly was just as exposed between the band of her shorts and her strained halter. Her firmly rounded breasts quivered, barely concealed by the thin halter, and Wayne could almost make out her ruby-tipped nipples.
"I'm planning to get a little sun after you leave," she said in a throaty, sultry voice. "What's the matter? You look like I'm going to eat you, Wayne." She didn't add the word she was thinking: Yet.
Joan slid her palms down over her bare-skinned stomach and hooked her thumbs in the low-slung tight waistband of her red shorts, making certain that Wayne was watching every movement she made. Then she gazed up at him through the furry fringe of her thick eye lashes, and sensuously rotated her slim, sinewy hips as she shifted her weight from one hip to the other and back again. A shiver of excitement ran up her spine as she saw the auburn-haired youth's eyes glisten lustfully while he stared at her provocative motions. Deliberately she let her gaze fall once again to the crotch of his trousers, and she couldn't help smiling as she saw Wayne squirm in embarrassment under her blatant scrutiny of the long, hard bulge that was straining the material of his jeans. Joan knew that he was in an agony of confusion and frustration as she brazenly flaunted her all-but-naked body in front of him, but her mind had been made up when she'd first reached for the thin, tiny outfit she was now wearing. She couldn't have restrained herself any longer from going after this handsome virile child if she'd wanted to, and as she'd slipped on the halter and shorts in the privacy of her bedroom a few moments before, she had realized that no more did she have the slightest desire to stop herself. As they say of rape: "If you can't fight it, join it!" and so now Joan knew she truly wanted this boy's slim, innocent hardness, and would do what was necessary to obtain it for herself!
"I asked, Wayne, if there was something the matter," she purred huskily. "Don't you like what I'm wearing?"
The red-faced boy wordlessly shook his head, the torment he was experiencing apparent in his expression. He felt absolutely dry in his throat, and he couldn't keep his eyes off the undulating rhythm of his teacher's rounded buttocks through the tight red shorts. Man, she was one hell of a stacked woman, he thought; better looking than Sharla or Lucy or any of the other girls at school. He had hoped that one day he could see her like this -- crap, he'd jacked off thinking about her naked and hot for him beating his meat until his prick had been ready to fall off! But he'd never really figured it would come true! But a fat lot of good it would do. She was twice as old as he was, and she wouldn't want to be messing around with no kid! But still...
Wayne felt his painfully throbbing cock jerk again as if it were alive, and he wriggled on the couch, trying to move so that the older woman couldn't see how bad he wanted her. The boy tried to will his erection away, but it remained throbbingly blood-swollen and straining for release from its cloth prison. Crap, he wanted to die with shame!
Guiltily, his eyes went to his teacher's face, and oh Jesus, no! Miss Frazer was staring right at the bulge in his pants! He thought she had a couple of times before, but he hadn't been sure... but this time there was no mistake, and she was smiling about it, too!
"Why Wayne," his teacher said in mock reproof, "Wh
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