Bonus fuck with a teacher
Lisa Hamilton paced the outside aisle between the last row of desks and the windows. She could see the schoolyard and the small park beyond, its trees and shrubs just beginning to bud with spring, and because of the slant of the afternoon sun, she was also able to see her image reflected in the glass.
She paused for a moment, the way a woman will when passing a mirror, and primped her long blonde hair with her fingers, inspecting herself abstractly in the window's reflection. Never, though, did she pause in her lecturing, the day's lesson on chemical reactions between basic oxides and acids flowing from her lips in a never-ending stream of words. Lisa Hamilton was known as a hard task-master by her high school students, even though to look at her, one would think she would be warm and tender and perhaps too soft on the freshmen who took her course.
In fact, there were some who couldn't understand how Lisa could stand being a teacher at all, when there were so many more exciting and pleasant things for somebody as beautiful and provocative as she. Most of these were men who had tried dating her at one time or another, and who had subsequently been firmly rebuffed in their amorous efforts. Lisa was thirty-one, of medium height and a little on the slender side, with full high-peaked breasts and firmly rounded thighs, long sculptured legs and a flat taut belly -- all of which were more in keeping with the budding figures of the girls in her classes, instead of a woman twice their age. Her face was a heart-shaped oval with a pert stubby nose and large Koala-bear eyes with bright ice-blue pupils. Her lips were naturally crimson and needed very little lipstick, and they habitually curved outwards and down in a mock, seductive pout. Her smooth skin was the ivory of a natural blonde, although during the summer months she took a tan readily and became a golden hue. Add to all that a melodious voice with a seductive, throaty purr, and it was no wonder that the vice-principal chewed his report cards with frustration!
At the moment, her class was either looking at her or their open books, and all of them were fidgeting. They wound their legs around the metal supports of the seats in front of them, sliding down farther and farther in their chairs and doodling aimlessly with their pens. Lisa Hamilton talked on, and she was only half-heard, the teenagers impatient to get outside in the lovely weather, their eyes rolling around the room like cattle in a small enclosure.
Finally the voluptuous blonde teacher made a complete circuit of her class and came once more to her desk. It was on a raised platform and was much larger than any of the others, and was cluttered with reports and bunsen burners and all the paraphernalia necessary to conduct experiments. When she stood behind her desk and stared out at them, the students all knew it was time to pay closer attention, as much as they wished not to, and there was the soft sibilant sound of cleared throats and shifting clothes, like the rustle of dry leaves across the ground.
"Bertram," she said, indicating a tow-headed boy. "Would you tell us all what happens when acids are added to bases?"
"Uh... salts are formed, Mrs. Hamilton."
"Very good. And what determines the number of salts which can be formed? Not you, Elmira, I can see you've done your homework! Sherry? Will you tell the class the answer?"
The girl in the third row, fourth seat blushed a violent red, and lowered her head. "It... it is determined by... by... by..."
"Don't you know, Sherry?"
"Yes, Ma'am... only I can't say it."
Lisa Hamilton made a mark in her grade book with an indelible pencil. "Then I'll say it for you, Sherry. A salt is formed by the replacement of the atom or atoms of hydrogen in the acid by the metallic atoms of the base. Thus acids which contain more than one atom of hydrogen can have more than one salt. How many salts can sulfuric acid have, ah... Jerrold?"
The boy named Jerrold looked up with absolutely blank eyes. He clenched and unclenched his fists, squirming in his chair, and his jaw worked up and down without uttering a single sound.
"I could have sworn that Jerrold was here when we began class," Lisa Hamilton said tartly. "Excuse me while I mark him absent."
The class was given time to giggle.
"Merribelle? Can you tell us?"
A high-pitched nasal voice began: "Two, Mrs. Hamilton. It has two atoms of hydrogen, so it..."
Briiinnnggg!
Merribelle was rudely interrupted by the raucous sound of the class bell. It was five minutes to three, and another boring school day was over, and better yet, it was Friday! A whole weekend of freedom loomed ahead! The bell produced a nervous explosion, a discharge of every ounce of restraint that had stored up during the long hours. Lisa Hamilton couldn't have prevented her pupils from talking out loud and scraping their books together if she'd wanted to, and if truth be known, she was just as glad her last class was over as they were.
Immediately Merribelle and sulfuric acid atoms were forgotten by all, and the boys and girls stood in the aisles and chattered like magpies as they filed out the door. The chemistry classroom emptied, and from the long halls came the echoing reverberation of lockers being opened and shut and students coming and going. Mrs. Hamilton was left standing behind her desk; they all had something to do, someplace to go.
All except the thirty-one year old teacher. She smiled wistfully as the last of her students drained from the room and left it empty. Then she began gathering her papers together with a slow, precise grace, her mind wandering as it often did at the end of the day about where she should go and what should she do.
Home, she thought morosely. She'd go home just like always; home to a rambling ranch-house that was as sterile and vacant as this classroom. And it shouldn't be this way! She should be going out and having fun, letting a nice man take her to dinner and dancing and maybe even... oh God, it was madness to think this way! "I'm still a young and attractive woman," she groaned under her breath, "but I might as well be an old hag. It might even be better if I were..."
She hung her head shamefully, leaning forward on her hands in a posture of penitence. The papers and books on the desk were a blur of meaningless nothings to her as she contemplated the barren weekend ahead. It was always worse on Friday and Saturday afternoons, although now even the weekday evenings were becoming heavier to bear alone. Yet the thought of being with a man and encouraging his affection and friendship, produced a still greater reaction of aversion in her heart. A man inevitably meant a relationship, possibly even a sexual one in time, and always that reminded her of her ex-husband.
Her marriage to Ralph Hamilton had only been one year out of her life and seven years ago at that, but the scars of that brief interlude were still carved in her soul. She had finally become inured to living in the large house which had been theirs and which had been part of the divorce settlement; now it merely produced a dull ache every once in a while when she considered it. But the thought of Ralph invariably produced a sharp, icy chill, and even now as she stood at her desk she could sense the acute pangs growing in her chest. Instead of the womanly warmth that love should have brought her, she only had the frigid void of fear and despair, which no man had ever been able to crack since her parting with Ralph. And, wretchedly, she knew that emptiness included Ralph. Especially Ralph. While there had been things wrong about him, as there is with any human being, she instinctively realized that the blame for their dissolution rested squarely on her shoulders. Or rather, she was forced to admit grimly, the blame rested down between her legs...
Lisa knew deep in her mind that she attracted men easily. Without being immodest, she was aware that her figure and manner was disturbingly desirable, and that there was nothing outward to indicate her inner frigidity. She looked all woman, a totally sensual female. Ralph had been taken in by it, and she couldn't face the prospect of chagrin and horror which another affair would surely produce. So she lived alone... and hated it.
It wasn't as if she didn't know what was at the root of her problem -- but knowing the problem and knowing the solution are two different things. Even though she had loved Ralph very much, she hadn't been able to respond to him the way a full-blooded woman should. Every time they went to bed, her mother was there between them in spirit, and the ghost of the old lady held her daughter back, curdling the physical response which nature had instilled in her body.
Lisa's mother was puritanical and prudish, but unlike Lisa, she believed sincerely hers was the only right way for a woman to behave. She had explained the mysteries of sex to her child when Lisa had come running home with her first menstruation, tearfully afraid something was wrong and she was bleeding to death. The mother's teachings had consisted entirely of dire warnings about the bestiality of men, and the woman's chore of submitting to their disgusting animal-like ruttings which overcame good taste and gentlemanly breeding. A woman had to endure, but never allow herself to willingly serve in the evil and filthy practice of procreation. To this day, Lisa could recite chapter and verse of St. Paul and St. Augustine, and the passages concerning the devil's love of flesh and the meaning of Original Sin.
It was certainly no wonder that Lisa lasted as a virgin all during high school and teacher's college, despite the numerous temptations cast her way. When, at the age of twenty-three, she had fallen in love with Ralph and lost some of her reticence, he had tried to explain to her that her mother was wrong. But the damage was too complete, and no matter how logical or loving he was, he couldn't dent the mother's insidious teachings which by then had seeped into Lisa's subconscious and controlled her basic emotions. The result had been that she'd remained untouched until her wedding night, and if she'd had her way, would have continued undefiled afterwards. Love was pure, sex was ugly... and the two could never be joined.
"Be kind, Ralph," she pleaded that first night together. "Please, be gentle with me."
And Ralph had been gentle and kind with her. But in the double bed with him, Lisa's eyes filled with tears, and when he caressed her breasts through the transparency of her honeymoon nightgown, her whole curvaceous body had shuddered uncontrollably. She sucked in her breath convulsively when he slid the negligee up over her naked body and began kissing the pink nipples of her breasts, making them harden and distend with involuntary desire. She could recall after all these years every clear detail of his strong hands sliding over her nude skin in the darkness of the motel bedroom, and the way her flesh had betrayed her mind by responding with shivery goose bumps of delight. His fingers moved slowly lower, until at last they teased softly over the curly silken hairs of her pubic mound. Then down deeper... to find their way gently into the tight valley between her tender vaginal lips...
Now, staring sightlessly down at the pile of work on her desk, Lisa Hamilton fought to erase the memories which still haunted her, but without success. The painful recollections of her marriage were too vividly seared on her mind to ever be forgotten, or forgiven. She unconsciously trailed her eyes down her conservative woolen dress, thinking how Ralph had traveled the length and breadth of her naked body that first night and on many subsequent nights after that. And she recalled the unwanted sensations he had caused to ripple through her exposed loins, now so correctly covered from blatant exhibition...
Ralph had been her husband, and she knew it was her wifely duty to please him. But her mother's warnings about tiny electric sensations of pleasure were still too strong for her to overcome, and she lay frozen on her wedding bed in fear that there was something wrong with her because he was sexually arousing her. And when her lawful mate lowered his strong, muscular body between her cringing thighs, and probed her defenseless virginal passage with his thick, throbbing penis, Lisa was more terrified than she'd ever been before in her life.
Ralph's massive cock-head buffeted lightly against her hymen, easing its way into the undiscovered moistness of her soft trembling pussy. It felt too good to her to be anything else except evil... and then she was able to sense the tight ring of her purity give way to the prodding tip of his long, hard cock. There was a spasm of pain, she recalled, but not like any pain she'd ever known before, it was warm and more fulfilling than frightening, and she involuntarily gasped with delight as she felt him slide further up inside her tightly clasping cunt.
Yet, helped by her domineering mother's disapproving image, she was able to fight away even the tiniest bit of excitement from her senses. She endured her new husband's lustful passions with hundreds of puritanical proverbs she had become infused with, reciting them silently with her eyes squeezed tightly shut and her lips bared back over her clenching teeth. She prayed her morality wouldn't desert her as she heard Ralph's breathing become harsher and more labored, and sensed the contradicting emotions surging through her when his penis flooded her vagina with great spurts of his hot thick sperm. That was the only reason for allowing a man to have his way with her... for children, for procreation... or so she told herself over and over.
Still, in spite of her firm resolve not to weaken, somewhere in the back of her mind were excited nerve-endings that lewdly reveled in the spewing warmth of his semen. His pulsating cock pressed rhythmically against the smooth, rippling walls of her helplessly contracting pussy. Those sudden, uncontainable spasms of delight had scared her breathless, and she redoubled her promises to resist the slightest sign of prurient pleasure for fear of becoming no better than a sluttish whore.
The next few nights were even worse for the newly-wed couple, no matter what Ralph did to try to overcome her resistance. Lisa's inability to rid herself of her mother's image and actively enjoy his love-making made her stiff and rejecting, until she was almost driven insane with guilt. It got so that in her mind's eye, his hardened erection was the symbol of all she was supposed to hate, and the sight of it projecting thick and spear-like from his hirsute loins was enough to set her trembling with witless anxiety. The blood-rigid rod of male flesh was too big, too lustful and overpowering for her to accept, and she groaned beneath its thrusting and surging with undisguised repugnance.
Months passed, and even talking out their problem was too painful to do any good. It was a time of hellish agony for the young woman, and she lay awake at night, listening to her husband toss and turn in his frustration. Even during the day, life was becoming increasingly unbearable for them -- for Ralph, because his wife's apparent repulsion to sex made him feel sexually inadequate for the first time in his life; and for Lisa, because her own fears and frigidity made her hostile not only to her husband, but to herself as well.
Eventually her consistent denial of sexual pleasure reached the point of no return. Over a night-club dinner on their first anniversary, Ralph drank a bit too much and blurted angrily: "I want a divorce. I want out, you cold-cunted icebox, so I can find me a real woman..."
And a self-denying, cold-cunted divorcee Lisa had remained ever since, miserable and subconsciously frustrated...
With a heavy sigh of regret and self-pity, the melancholy teacher gathered her books and papers together, and with a last look around the cavernous room, walked out and shut the door behind her. The hall was empty, the mad exodus of students over now, and her footsteps were a lonely sound to her ears. She could hear the last bus leaving the parking lot, and from further on came the distant yells of the school's baseball team practicing on the field. Pretty soon the custodian would begin his rounds, pushing the day's collection of dirt and trash ahead of him with his big broom. Perhaps I should let him sweep me up, too, she contemplated sadly. I'm not any more use than an empty bottle, or a discarded candy wrapper...
Disconsolately, Lisa Hamilton walked down the stairs at the end of the hall, and along the basement corridor toward the teacher's lounge, where she kept her hat and coat. But as she was passing the door to the girl's locker room, she heard an odd sound which made her pause. Curious, she cocked her head to one side, wondering if she'd heard correctly...
Yes! There the noise was again! It was a very faint wet sound, almost a sucking sound that was coming from the other side of the door, interspersed with soft moaning mewls! What on earth...?
More perplexed with every passing second, Lisa stood wonderingly what the weird noises could possibly be, and automatically she glanced at her wristwatch. It was nearly three-thirty now, and nobody should be in the girls' locker room after the last gym class! Was somebody hurt, unable to cry out for help? Maybe... but she could not be certain. The walls were thin and the door hardly soundproof, but the sounds were so low as to be unintelligible. It would be terribly embarrassing to burst in and find that there was nothing wrong... but still... if there were a girl injured, it was her responsibility to find out!
She hesitated for another moment, and then she thought she could detect a vague whimpering. This convinced her to act, and, resolving to take a quick look inside just to set her mind at ease, Lisa pushed open the swing-door. Just inside was a plywood partition which acted as a screen to protect the girls' privacy as they changed or took showers. On the other side were the three rows of back-to-back metal lockers, with the tile shower room on the right and the exit to the gym on the left. The unknown sounds were in the direction of the showers, and, as she walked quietly toward the last row of lockers, she wondered if they were human or animal, or perhaps the dripping of a shower nozzle left on inadvertently when the students had hurriedly departed.
Louder now, closer and more distinct the sounds beckoned her nearer. Well, the noises were obviously not from the shower, she told herself irritably; while it might be wet, a shower drip would splash, not whimper and moan! She turned the corner of the locker row, gazing idly down the length, half-expecting it to be empty as the other two had been. Then her heart leaped into her throat!
Oh God! she cried silently, biting her lip to keep from screaming out in shock. On the long wooden bench in the middle of the aisle was a naked adolescent girl. Naked girls on locker-room benches are very ordinary and far from surprising in themselves -- it was how this girl was naked that blew the blonde teacher's mind!
Lisa Hamilton recognized the maturing body of young Marge Spanner, a darkhaired girl who took one of her morning classes. Marge was lying on her back, her firm nubile breasts swelling high and perky, their tiny brown nipples standing straight up in quivering hardness. Her ripely curved buttocks were at the edge of the bench, her slender white thighs scissored open to lewdly expose the thin pink lips and sparse pubic hair of her developing vagina. Her bare feet were flat on the floor, and squatting between her widespread legs was a large German shepherd dog.
Lisa had never seen the dog around the school before, although by its heavy leather collar it obviously was somebody's pet and not merely a stray running wild. It looked well fed and cared for, its fur glossy and combed. It also had an intelligent if slightly wicked gleam to its eye, and it was a handsome beast in a savage and untamed manner that inadvertently brought chills to Lisa while she stared speechless at them both.
The monstrous brute remained on its haunches as if it hadn't noticed Lisa's entrance and was entirely absorbed by the obscene vision of Marge Spanner's indecently displayed genitals. And, still more horrifying to the wide-eyed teacher, was what the fifteen year old girl was doing to her pussy! The budding teenager's hands were crawling over the thinly hair-covered cunt lips, her erotically probing fingers working deep up inside the tiny hole of her vagina with the unmistakable cadence of masturbation!
This was the soft sucking sound Lisa had heard all the way out in the hall... and the moaning purrs of pleasure coming from the girl's parted lips were the whimpers and mewls which had forced her to investigate! Frozen to the spot, Lisa gasped in stunned disbelief at the perverted spectacle of this immature child finger-fucking herself in wanton disregard of common decency, right in front of a dog! But perversely, as the older woman watched she couldn't help remembering the many nights alone when she'd nearly gone insane with sexual desire... until she had relieved herself the same way with her own fingers, masturbation being the one and only way she'd ever been able to openly respond to the passions locked inside of her. The teacher blushed scarlet as the guilty thought flicked through her consciousness, her breath involuntarily quickening.
But this simply couldn't continue! Lisa told herself that she would have to put a stop to Marge's public display at once, as embarrassing as it would be for both of them. She would be stern but understanding, but she couldn't tiptoe away and pretend she hadn't seen the girl touching herself so wickedly. And it was for Marge's good as well -- what if another teacher or girl walked in?
But before she could summon the breath to say something, her facial muscles tightened with newfound horror! The naked girl had removed her finger and was now slowly spreading the lips of her swollen little cunt. The soft wisps of pubic hair covering the tender pink slit were gleaming with vaginal secretions, and now Lisa could see the entire plane of her moist, fleshy crevice brazenly offered in hungering supplication.
"Here Atilla!" the girl pleaded, "Come here and lick me! Ohhh, you damned dog, come here and eat my box!"
The horribly obscene request was beyond Lisa's comprehension! She staggered back a step while she saw the German shepherd obediently rise and move closer, and she attempted to clear her reeling mind and think straight. The nearly overpowering thought that she should now intervene at all costs and put an end to this flagrant exhibition fumbled in her brain. Lord! She had to scream or rush in or something! She had never witnessed such a perverted abandonment of all that was chaste and holy!
But all Lisa could seem to do was shudder from the perverse stimulation that indulging in something forbidden gives, even against one's will. She watched in fascinated revulsion as the girl's head rolled back and forth on the bench, contorted with the faraway stare of erotic obsession, while the dog sniffed closer along her trembling young thighs. "Yes... yes, Atilla, lick me out good, you marvelous dog! Ohhhh...!"
The huge snout of the dog inched still closer, and then his long red tongue darted out and obscenely licked along her inner leg. He teased the teenager's smooth creamy skin, arousing her to an unreal reverie of passion, her eyes staring inward at the sexual delights that were coursing through her inflamed loins. The German shepherd was running his tongue over the gentle swell of her buttocks now, taunting her as if it had been trained by Don Juan himself in the arts of love.
"Ohhhh shit!" Marge groaned uncontrollably. "Higher, Atilla, higher! Sink that tongue of yours right in my twat!"
Lisa watched in transfixed horror, unconsciously licking her dry lips with her tongue as she saw her student urgently spreading the pink cuntal lips still wider. Through the moisture, the curling damp hair and the bright quivering pussy lips, Lisa could see the erected tip of the girl's clitoris glistening with succulent desire. Then Atilla raised his head, and his tongue flicked forward to flutter lightly over the trembling bud that nestled in the raw wetness of her open pink slit. Marge's body jerked spasmodically at the sensational shocks of pleasure that pierced through her nubile flesh, and she automatically began to roll her hips back and forth in an obscene rhythm to match the animal's tonguing of her cunt. Her tightly clenched teeth could not suppress the agonizingly delicious mewls of passion that rumbled from her throat, making her sound even more sensuous and abandoned with each undulation of her writhing thighs.
Hypnotized, the older woman stared at the girl twisting to the obscene licking between her legs. Never! Never before had she imagined that such terrible depravity existed! She had heard of men who sometimes bent a girl to their will and forced her to submit when they put their mouths down there... but Marge Spanner was craving it, begging for it in no uncertain terms, and, worst of all, from a dog! It was so horrid, but at the same time mystifying, to the divorced teacher, how this cherubic girl was allowing it to happen... and enjoying it! Lisa had found a certain measure of empathy when she'd been watching Marge masturbating, something in the girl's lost glassy stare having reminded her of when she would writhe from her own exciting touch. But now this child was being aroused to an unheard-of pitch by a dog, not by her own fingers!
"Ohhhh yes! Atilla! Lick it! Lick it! Eat my snatch! Ohhhh, you're a lovely lover!"
The words burst forth broken and swallowed and choked with passion, and Lisa found herself listening, a tightening sensation beginning to grip the pit of her stomach. The girl was clutching the hair of the dog's neck with both hands and was desperately grinding her naked pussy up against its snout. Lisa could see the dog working faster, its tongue lashing out snake-like and disappearing into the soft hair-fringed pussy lips, the salacious sight and sounds rooting her breathless to the floor.
"More, Atilla! Lick my bush faster!" Lisa heard young Marge pant. "Yes, yes, like that... oohhhhh...!"
Tormentedly, the mature blonde teacher began to realize that her first reaction of horror and revulsion was slowly dissipating, and she was being affected in a way she had never dreamed possible. Now a strange, light-fingered quivering was growing deep between her own thighs, building unwantedly with every moment the huge beast slavered in the girl's cuntal slit. It was wagging its tail joyously now, its head bobbing furiously and causing vile, wet sucking sounds between Marge's widespread thighs.
"Ahhhhh!" the girl sighed deliriously, raising a rash of goose bumps across Lisa's flesh and up to her full breasts, now beginning to heave and harden, the nipples distending sensitively against the sheer netting of her brassiere. She could see the German shepherd's tongue once more, working eagerly in slobbering subjugation at the wide-splayed tightness of the girl's little cunt, and she could see the contortions of her face above the white jiggling mounds of her breasts.
Suddenly, Marge jerked her legs up off the floor, bringing them high up in the air and then back until her knees touched her breasts. The complete surface of her tender developing vagina was open to the eager dog. It flicked its tongue into the little puckered rosette of her anus, and Lisa stared as if mesmerized by the sight, and a long low moan bubbled from Marge's lips.
"Oohhhh, don't stop, don't stop!" the girl whined, writhing her from buttocks furiously against the hot licking tongue spearing mercilessly between the open cheeks of her upraised buttocks. "Damn you, Atilla! You're driving me wild!"
Lisa Hamilton barely dared to breathe now, the rasping sound escaping from her own throat having become so loud. Her mouth was hot and dry, and the prurient sensation tickling unwantedly between her thighs caused her to clamp her legs tightly together. Never before in her life had she experienced such a revolting sense of fascination! The lewd scene and obscene sounds held her gripped, her full breasts commencing to ache with a throbbing desire of their own. She found herself recalling the few times Ralph had tried to go down on her and lick her between the legs, and how she had shouted at him how evil and corrupt he was for entertaining such crude ideas. Now she almost wished she had allowed him to suck her pussy. She knew if her ex-husband were here right now... right now this moment...!
"I... I'm cumming, you fuckin' dog! Shit on a shingle, I... I'm going to cummmm!" the girl half-screamed, finally crooning off into a weird little wail as she choked and spluttered, arching her hips up off the bench in agitated response!
Lisa was trembling uncontrollably while she viewed the girl's climax. Dear God, a dog had tongued her to orgasm... an orgasm which Lisa had never experienced all the times Ralph had made love to her the normal way! It was beyond belief that this could be happening... but it was! Was it possible that women were all alike; that they were supposed to enjoy sex...?
But as Marge sprawled satiated back against the bench, the calm aftermath seemed to snap the older teacher back to her sanity. Atilla, too, acted as if he were aware that the wild orgiastic session was over, moving back from the still quivering flesh of the girl's saliva-glistening vagina. He turned and for the first time acknowledged Lisa's presence, staring headily at the woman, his ears pricking up as he tilted his head.
Lord, don't let him bark! Lisa found herself praying. She was filled with far more apprehension than fear, less worried that he would suddenly attack her than that he would warn Marge that she was here in the locker-room. All she wished to do now was silently creep out, heavy with guilt and self-loathing for the way she'd responded to the sordid spectacle. She was in no condition to chastise the girl and certainly not wholesome enough to counsel her about feminine decency! Let her who is without sin cast the first stone... and she couldn't do that any longer, not after the way she'd been thinking! Did not the Bible teach that it is as great a sin to think evil as practice it? God! What had she allowed to overcome her?
Lisa backed away, feeling lost and soiled, not knowing what to do. But, before she was able to reach the partition, her worst fears were confirmed.
"Arf!" went the dog.
"Mrs. Hamilton!" cried the girl.
Marge Spanner sat up convulsively at the bark of Atilla, her legs still splayed on either side of the bench, the wet moisture of animal saliva dripping from her pink cuntal slit. Her hand was up to her mouth, choking back a terrible, whimpering cry as she recognized the chemistry teacher standing nearby. Shame and guilt came to her in that split instant, and her face flamed with livid humiliation.
"Oh no!" she gasped, her eyes widening hysterically. "Oh Mrs. Hamilton, I... I... What are you doing here?"
"There was noise," Lisa blurted, her mind whirling in its effort to find the proper words. "I came in, a-afraid somebody was hurt. B-But it's what you are doing here that's important!"
Marge averted her crimsoning face, moaning in sickening anguish. "You... saw me, didn't you?"
"How could I help it?" Lisa said sharply, but then fell silent. The older woman found herself momentarily stymied, the guilt of her own obscene behavior weighing heavily on her conscience. She knew she should say something and tried to steady her conflicting thoughts to be the proper teacher, the calm and rational adult who could handle such things. "I... I think you had better get dressed, young lady," she finally managed to utter in a quavering tone.
"Oh crap," the girl moaned uncontrollably, leaping to her feet. She completely ignored the dog now, who was sitting on its haunches again, looking slightly bewildered at this abrupt turn of events. Wildly, the girl sought her clothing, opening one of the lockers next to her and pulling on a jersey blouse and a pair of stretch pants. In her hurry and panic, she didn't bother with panties or bra.
"P-Please, Mrs. Hamilton," she tearfully begged as she dressed. "Please, don't rat on me! I mean, don't tell my parents what happened! They'd kill me!"
"I... I don't know..." Lisa stammered, still in a daze.
"What are you going to do?"
"I simply don't know! Whose dog is this, Marge?"
"Oh no, please don't make me tell you! That'll make it even worse!" the young teenager blubbered frantically. "Atilla is a nice dog most of the time, and they'll put him to sleep or something awful like that!"
"But..."
"He wandered in here!" Marge continued feverishly. "Yes, that was it! Atilla wandered in here while I was changing and he... he forced me to let him lick me! He growled at me and everything! Just look at his teeth!" Then, as if realizing that she had just talked herself into a circle by her patent lying, the girl hastily tried to set things straight again. "But really, he's a very nice dog, and he's never ever done anything like this before, and I'm sure if you'll let him..."
"Stop fibbing to me, young woman!" Lisa snapped impatiently, "I saw you, I saw everything that went on in here, and you deliberately urged that dog to... to... do that, after you..." She couldn't bring herself to openly speak the descriptions of the acts she had witnessed. The words seemed to catch in her throat, an unwanted sensation of excitement welling up in her chest at the remembrance they caused. "What you did was ugly and perverted, Marge Spanner, and lying about it will not make it any better!"
The girl blanched with terror, stumbling back a pace as fear of what the chemistry teacher could do to her loomed in her mind. "B-But he did, I tell you! Atilla wanted to rape me, only I... it was exciting and I couldn't help myself," she concluded lamely. Then, her young feral mind working at high speed, she suddenly began to see a way out of her dilemma.
"But if you knew what happened, Mrs. Hamilton, you must have been watching me the whole time!"
"I... that is..." Lisa, suddenly caught off guard, was rapidly losing the last of her control, all thought of a rational discourse with the fifteen year old girl fleeing from her distraught and turmoiled mind. "Don't be silly, I..."
"You were, weren't you?" Marge pressed smugly. "You've been standing there watching me playing with my cunt and getting Atilla to lick it, and you were digging it, weren't you?"
"Don't talk to me that way! I walked in here and it was all too obvious what was going on!" But her face was becoming as red as Marge's was from the lewd accusation, and she knew her lie was as transparent to the girl as Marge's had been to her.
"Monkey balls," the teenager snickered. "You knew what I was doing and you didn't call a halt because you were getting your follies out of it." The girl shrugged airily. "Well, don't get your ass in a flap, Mrs. Hamilton. We all have our hang-ups, and having my twat diddled by a dog is one of mine. Different strokes for different folks, I always say."
"Never in my born days have I been talked to this way!"
"Oh, come down off your chariot, Mrs. Hamilton. Hell, you should have let me know you were looking at me. I think I'd have gotten a bigger kick out of it!"
"Now, I certainly will tell your parents," Lisa fumed. "And I will march that dog to its owner and have a few words with him as well!"
"Well, I can't stop you taking Atilla home," Marge replied slyly, "if you can find out who he belongs to. But you aren't telling my parents or the principal or anybody."
"I will!"
"Because, if you do, I'll tell how you stood here and watched me humping away! I figure it'll be worse for you than for me. I'm just a kid, remember? You're my teacher, and that'll really make the fur fly, especially if I sort of let it slip that you were encouraging me. Just think of what a story like that would do to your reputation and future! And it's my word against yours!"
Lisa felt her skin crawl at the sound of the immoral girl's threats. Marge was just enough of a little bitch to do it, too, she thought haplessly. The publicity, the reliving of the lurid details that could add nothing except more insult to injury... It would certainly entail an investigation, possibly before the Board of Education, and perhaps, if things got out of hand, into the courtroom! The girl could not only ruin her with her lies, but send her to jail! She'd rather die than go to prison! "You wouldn't dare!" she gasped out in horror. "You wouldn't dare do that to me!"
"If you force me to I will," Marge responded callously. She grabbed her shoulder-strap handbag from the locker and began to saunter impudently toward the exit. "I don't see why there's all the fuss anyway. We all had a bit of fun, and nobody was hurt." She paused at the partition to turn and stare at the older woman with adolescent arrogance. "Just let me know when you want to turn on again, Mrs. Hamilton. I'll see what I can arrange."
"But... but the dog!" Lisa babbled, beside herself with a mixture of horror and indignation, her mind a total confusion. "What about the dog?"
"Oh, I don't care what you do with it. But I'm sure you'll think of something. Toodle-oo!"
And then laughing, Marge Spanner sidled out the door, leaving the highly distraught chemistry teacher standing alone with Atilla a few feet away.
CHAPTER TWO
It was all wrong.
The day had started out wrong when she'd accidentally poured soap flakes in her scrambled eggs, and it had progressively worsened. Lisa had tentatively planned to forget some of her troubles by whipping up a fancy shrimp creole dish for supper with a good big bottle of Chablis she'd bought to help top it off. But that was before walking into the girls' locker room, and she could consider that idea shot all to hell now. A bitterness blazed in the older woman as she considered the absolutely unforgivable treatment she'd received from Marge Spanner, and her ears still burned from the foul language the girl had used. And that was not counting the absolutely despicable scene itself! Well, it was all spoiled now. She couldn't possibly think of making a complicated recipe in her present frame of mind, much less feed it to that damned dog!
Lisa glanced at the German shepherd sitting beside her, her eyes flashing with dark antagonism. It seemed to leer back at her, raising the lips at the back part of his snout as only a canine is able, and, irritated still more, Lisa whipped her eyes back to the road ahead. She was driving rapidly from the school now, jerking the wheel of her small compact Valiant and impatiently braking, her mind seething with every thought except traffic safety. She was forced to swerve once when another car suddenly cut in, and the dog was thrown against her. She gasped unwittingly as the soft firmness of her breasts brushed against its furry head, the involuntary caress making the older woman all the more conscious of the animal's close presence.
"Get over on your side and stay there," she growled to Atilla, feeling a little silly for saying something he couldn't possibly understand. But he whined in reply as if apologetic, and that only served to irritate her further.
Marge Spanner was right, Lisa told herself angrily. As the vengeful child had warned her, there was nothing she could do, not after having been a part of the scandalous perversions by watching and keeping her silence. What had ever possessed her to act that way? Lord, she must have been as sick as the girl! And, if she had the brains God gave a goose, she'd have shooed the dog away and simply tried to forget any of it had ever happened.
But perhaps it was her pride, her stubborn resolve not to be beaten by that wretched little student's blackmail. Perhaps it was the urgent necessity to reaffirm her basic morality, after having succumbed to this inexplicable temptation, for to keep quiet now would be essentially a condoning of the whole sordid mess. Whatever it was, Lisa had kept the dog with her, going around the school in a determined attempt to find out who its owner was. Once she knew, she could perhaps confront him -- or her -- and receive some partial satisfaction that way. But nobody she'd talked to knew... or would admit they did. So, ultimately, she'd had to leave the school grounds with the dog, promising herself that tomorrow she would call the animal pound and track the owner through the license tag that was attached to its leather collar.
So the dog rode beside her, behaving as unconcerned as if it was her own pet and was used to the trip. And so, she grimly told herself, there would be no shrimp creole tonight, but hamburger. Lots of hamburger, because, by the size of the brute, he could eat a couple of pounds of ground-round in a single chomp. Still, it would be a change from her normal evening, and ruefully she had to admit that her problem of what to do tonight was solved. She was going to dog-sit.
Yet, despite her irritation toward Atilla, she really didn't hate him, nor hold him responsible for his actions with the girl. He was, after all, just a dog and was following a dog's instinctive habits. She had witnessed too many other breeds whining in heat or jerking against someone's leg to hold him or his heritage at fault. It was Marge's fault for having trained him so irresponsibly. Mostly Lisa was infuriated with herself and was taking it out on Atilla, and realizing that only made her more irked than ever at the situation.
Actually, Atilla was a very fine animal, and one to be proud of. He had a lean, muscular body lithe and supple beneath his shiny coat, yet it was more than that, she could sense. It was something too ephemeral to pinpoint exactly, but his eyes seemed to sparkle with uncommon intelligence, and he moved with a canine grace that you couldn't help admiring. There was something big and powerful and alluring about the dog -- as the student girl had so intimately proved! What an odd way to react to a mere dog! She'd never responded to Ralph that way, or to any man... it was most disconcerting to wonder how it must feel to be that way toward a dog!
She blushed slightly at her own guilty notions and squirmed nervously in the car seat, feeling the edge of the cushion rub electrically against the soft swelling of her vagina. She sucked in her breath from the unexpected contact and the more unexpected shock that it produced up between her thighs. Her pulse quickened hotly against her will. This was all so strange! She couldn't understand what had held her transfixed back in the locker room, and she couldn't understand what was taking place now... and slightly disturbed and more than a little confused, the divorced teacher felt almost relieved when she drove into her driveway.
She parked the car in the garage, and then held the door open for Atilla to jump out. He did, and without hesitation followed her to the side door. When she'd unlocked the door and entered the kitchen, he walked in behind her and then stood looking up at her intently, tongue lolling slightly from his open mouth.
"Well, you're just going to have to wait, Atilla," Lisa told the dog sternly. "It's not dinner time yet, and in this house you'll have to learn your manners."
The dog's expression changed slightly to a crestfallen attitude, but otherwise he remained where he was. The blonde teacher sighed plaintively, but the dog looked so woeful that she was forced to laugh. "Oh, I'm not mad at you, you old mutt," she giggled, scratching him lightly behind his ears. "Don't worry, we'll have a nice dinner later on. I have to change out of these old work clothes and into something fresh, and I think maybe I'll have a beforedinner drink, something to steady myself after all the excitement. Lord knows I deserve it!"
She went over to the sink and opened the cupboard above it, taking down a wine glass. Then, opening the refrigerator, she took out the Chablis she'd been saving for the shrimp and was about to open it when she had a second thought. She put the bottle down and filled a large soup bowl with water, setting it, down carefully at one side of the counter.
"Here's your drink, Atilla. Maybe you're thirsty too."
Atilla regarded the water with disdain.
"That's too bad, you're not getting any of my wine," Lisa told him. "It's all the liquor there is in the house. Besides, dogs aren't supposed to have alcohol."
Though she seldom drank at all, and rarely this early in the evening, Lisa uncorked the bottle hurriedly and poured the glass to the brim. She hoped the wine would settle her stomach and calm her nerves, and she took a giant sip, feeling the cool refreshing wine flow all the way down to her empty stomach. She almost coughed from the heady swallow, but gamely took another drink, and a moment later, she was rewarded by a faint light-headedness as the liquor was immediately absorbed in her bloodstream. She refilled the glass and took one more mouthful of the Chablis, relaxing gradually while the liquor wafted lazily through her jangled body.
"Ahhh, that's better," she sighed gratefully. "Now for a quick shower and change." She felt a little guilty for drinking the wine so quickly, but nevertheless she picked up bottle and glass and took them with her as she strolled toward her bedroom. Atilla again followed his newfound mistress, and instinctively, he licked her smooth hand to impart his growing attachment to her. His warm wet caress across the back of her hand almost made Lisa drop the bottle, and she shivered in shock from some unexplainable emotion that suddenly knotted the insides of her belly.
"D-Don't do that," she managed, sucking in her breath. "And you'd better stay out here while I change," she commanded as she entered her bedroom. But Atilla didn't heed her orders, padding in right after her and once more sitting on his haunches.
Lisa stared at the German shepherd, her hands trembling while she poured herself another glass of wine. "Go on," she commanded him harshly. "Get out of my bedroom!"
The dog thumped its tail against the carpet and refused to budge.
"Ohhhhh, what am I going to do with you?" Lisa wailed in exasperation. "You're far too big for me to throw out! I suppose if you insist on staying with me, you will."
She eyed Atilla critically, and inadvertently her eyes roamed down over his sleek coat to his lower belly. A spastic shiver rippled through her against her will, both thrilling and terrifying her at the same time, for, with the dog facing her, she was able to see all of his large, protruding genitals. Atilla's cock! She gaped with mortification at the sight of his glistening crimson length emerging from its long furry sheath, wet and thick, the dripping, tapered end jiggling slightly as it slipped up along his belly from the protective sleeve in an ever-growing erection.
God! The dog-penis was as big or bigger than Ralph's had been! She moaned to herself in anguish. But why was it getting hard now? Dear God, it was almost... almost as if Atilla was anticipating her undressing before him, and it was exciting him! The tiny suggestion of bestial lust flickered lewdly through her mind, making her recoil with a mixture of aching torment and fevered embarrassment, and needfully she drained her wine glass, only to refill it again with shaking hands. She was so ashamed at the way her mind was working! The very notion of a dog becoming sexually aroused like a man was ludicrous! What in God's name was she allowing herself to think?
She had to fight it! She had to fight her own imaginings the same way she'd always conquered her lewd impulses -- by proving to herself that she was stronger than they! Firmly resolved to overcome her salacious ideas, Lisa turned her back to Atilla and took a number of deep, ragged breaths to calm her ragged emotions. But in spite of her determination, she could almost feel the animal's beady gaze on her flesh, mentally undressing her like some degenerate voyeur. Ohhh, this was terrible! She should never have taken Atilla home with her! But it was too late now... and reminding herself once again that he was a dog, just a dog and not a strange man, the teacher began unzipping her woolen dress with hurried, quick motions.
Once undone, she shrugged the material off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. She stepped out of the dress, forcing herself to act supremely unconcerned that she was being watched, but to her chagrin, she found herself turning to see if the dog was enjoying her performance.
Horrifyingly, she realized that Atilla's scarlet penis was harder and thicker than ever! His tapered dog-cock seemed to give another sharp jerk when she bent over to retrieve her dress and place it on the chair next to the bureau. The full rounded moons of her buttocks came into tantalizing view, and she knew the beast could see the completely unimpeded sight of her nylon panties between her firm, trembling thighs. And when she straightened up again, her panties slipped teasingly into the stretched crevice of her buttocks and remained bunched there! Dear God, this was almost more embarrassing than if she were strip-teasing at a stag smoker! She had to get control of herself!
The panting dog continued to watch the blonde woman more intensely than ever as she rolled each leg of her panty hose down, arching her legs while she pulled the thin veneer free of her well-formed legs. He licked his chops and whined knowingly, causing Lisa to shiver with renewed shame when she unclasped her thin white brassiere. Her large firm breasts swung into heady, exposure, their ripe pink nipples perking out from the tip of the white globes like cherries on vanilla ice cream scoops. Atilla was wagging his tail furiously now, his elongated penis jerking in painful erection against his lower belly. Lisa gritted her teeth together, squeezing her eyes closed in her determination not to be undone by her own obscene imaginings. A dog couldn't become excited by seeing her this way! It just couldn't...!
The rounded, hair-lined lips of her fleshy cunt came into teasing view now as she cast off her panties and stood stark naked in her bedroom, between the dog and the bureau. Quivering uncontrollably, she swiveled around to look at herself in the bureau mirror, seeing the dog's beady eyes gazing at her in the mirror's reflection. She realized that he was watching her just as he'd watched young Marge Spanner, both she and the teenaged girl equally nude and unadorned before him. Miserably she thought: There's no difference between us from the dog's point of view...
She raised her arms over her head in a classic nude pose, stretching her breasts taut and uplifting her nipples puckishly. She could see in the mirror the flat plane of her stomach, unmarred by age or birthmarks, and the honeycolored curls of her pubic hair. The soft fleeciness around her vagina highlighted the rosy lips underneath, and she imagined she could see the tiny tip of her clitoris peeking out from the crested valley of her loins in almost childlike shyness.
Yet, she added mournfully as she lowered her arms, there is a difference between Marge and myself... a vast difference which Atilla could never understand, but I do all too well...
Marge Spanner, in spite of her tender years and immaturity, already knew what sex was really about. Lisa could not believe that a fifteen year old girl who'd allow a German shepherd to lick her to climax would not be experienced with the carnal embraces of older boys. Marge was not a virgin, and obviously enjoyed that condition... enjoyed it so much that her explosive passions had actually stimulated Lisa against her will! Was sex truly enough to change a decent woman into a mass of seething, abandoned flesh? Was it really the animalistic thing she'd witnessed in the locker room? She had never experienced anything that strong -- as intense as the girl with the dog -- nor had she ever before been worked up to the peak which just watching it had caused her. What would it be like if she could let herself go like Marge had done? The thought raced through Lisa's mind -- what would it be like?
Lord, how she must have felt! The tormented teacher groaned inwardly. And I'm twice Marge's age, and never felt that way!
Hands shaking as if with palsy, Lisa clutched the wine bottle and poured another full glass of the Chablis. She downed the tart liquid urgently, attempting to cool some of the warmth the girl's passion had transmitted unwittingly to her own body. Gasping for breath, she staggered slightly, and missed placing the glass on the bureau. Instead it fell from her fingers and crashed to the floor. The carpet saved it from breaking, but the last of the wine spilled against Lisa's bare toes, and the glass itself rolled gingerly underneath the bureau.
"Damn!" Lisa cursed furiously. "Oh damn, look what I've done now!"
Being a good housekeeper, Lisa automatically bent over to retrieve the glass. Without contemplating what she was doing, she got down on her knees and poked her hand underneath the bureau, still swearing at herself for being such a clumsy fool.
Then, without warning, there came a growling bark from the German shepherd. With a single bound, it was up from where it was sitting and between Lisa's unconsciously spread legs.
The terrified woman squeaked a tight choked exclamation of fear, and brought her hand up to her mouth. Her eyes were wide with fright, and she started to roll away from the large, hairy dog, but Atilla growled again, warning her to stay frozen where she was. And she did, her splayed thighs completely exposed and her knees bent outward, leaving the whole of her upturned vaginal crevice open and defenseless. There was nothing else to do, and she trembled while the huge beast growled menacingly, his fleshy lips pulled back over long ivory fangs.
"No, Atilla!" she mewled. "Go back, please go back!"
But Atilla ignored her, advancing on his paws and sniffing the air around Lisa's nakedly waving buttocks. He sniffed some more, moving his head around as if curious about this new woman and her piquant feminine smells. He stepped still closer to her fear-clenching loins, and lowered his head to the soft, fragrant slit between her buttocks, still sniffing with increased interest. The kneeling woman's position was one with which he was well acquainted, and his tail wagged happily as if he had discovered a new bitch-dog in flaming heat.
"Don't Atilla! Don't! I... I'm not Marge!" the naked woman exclaimed feverishly, but the dog wasn't interested in her spoken commands. There were other, more instinctive and natural commands which he wished to obey first! Marge's babbling excuses: Atilla wanted to rape me... He forced me to do it... reeled through Lisa's drunken mind. God, the girl had been lying in that particular instance, but was what she said true anyway? And then Lisa moaned as the dog's cold black nose abruptly pressed against her tiny, puckered anus. She tensed in abject mortification as its tongue snaked out and locked tentatively against the deep crevice around it, its tip burrowing slightly into her fleshy anal ring.
"Arg!" she gasped uncontrollably. "Oh! Ah! No!"
Despite her burgeoning terror, Lisa was so filled with shame and loathing for what she'd unthinkingly caused, that she once more tried to squirm free. But Atilla was having none of that, and barked insistently, snapping its massive jaws inches away from the tender cheeks of her buttocks. Lisa froze where she was, staying motionless in absolute horror with her legs spread wide and pressed against her folded legs as she knelt in tormented surrender before the vicious dog. With a final growl, Atilla began greedily lapping the narrow pink slit up between her open thighs. He ran his tongue wetly over the full length of it, from the tight-closed little anus down to the fluted, pink edges of her fearquivering cunt, and back up again. His great tongue spread through the soft, hair-fringed vaginal lips like a knife through warm butter, flicking relentlessly between the cringing woman's legs.
"Oh God," the trembling teacher moaned. "Oh, this is awful!" A soulsearing groan escaped from deep inside her chest, her buttocks grinding desperately as she tried to escape the maddening assault. "No, Atilla, no don't do this to me...!"
But Atilla's only response was a further stab up into her tight, fleshy cuntal slit, sending tiny goose bumps rippling across Lisa's softly quivering belly and distended breasts. "This is awful; this is sick; it's lewd; it's terrible," Lisa murmured over and over into the carpet with her undisguised humiliation, trying hopelessly to screw her thighs forward from the hotly flicking tongue that was licking mercilessly at her pussy. Great tears of humiliation and dread welled in her eyes as she listened to the lewd wet sluicing noises Atilla was making between her wide-splayed thighs. Yet in spite of her revulsion at this horrible perversion being done to her defenseless body, she couldn't help feeling the lips of her cunt involuntarily dilating to the massive dog-tongue spearing in and out between them. Seemingly of their own volition, her buttocks were starting to sway in lewd concert to the rhythm of the licking and tiny wisps of forbidden pleasure were beginning to ripple deep down in her belly.
"Oh no! No, it can't be! Oh God, not this!" The cruel realization slowly dawned on the hapless woman that her body was gradually deserting her. The impact brought further cries of horror, not only from the thought of the obscene act which she was allowing a dog to do to her, but at the more frightening and humiliating thought that she was actually starting to like it! She clenched her teeth tightly together and fought with all her will against the steadily growing sparks of lewd desire that were threatening to burst into sudden uncontainable flame and devour her in her helplessness. But it was a losing battle as Atilla snuffled and licked ceaselessly at her naked wet loins from behind.
"It can't be... it can't be happening..." Lisa groaned to herself in humiliation and fear, her head flailing back and forth tormentedly as the animal-tongue continued to slide hotly in and out of her rapidly moistening cunt. Yet the sensual pleasures were growing ever stronger as the widestretched tightness of her throbbing pussy was hungrily consumed, and uncontrollably, she began a slow, writhing undulation back against Atilla's snout. With increasing abandon, she rotated her buttocks in small grinding circles so she could feel more of the wickedly sinful rape of her helplessly stimulated flesh, shuddering with delight as the lewdly slaving beast tongued her to defeat.
"Ahhhhhh!" she sighed as the dog thrust his mouth deeper into her lustswelling vagina, expanding her pink, fleshy lips with each tantalizing lick he took. Oh Lord, how that dog was debasing her! Treating her like some bitch in heat! A strange masochistic thrill flashed through her nerves at the thought that she was being treated exactly as she deserved for being so wanton as to enjoy it. She wanted to be destroyed by it, she wanted to be sucked by this animal until she could never walk again! The obscene subjugation of her surrendering body on the carpet of her own bedroom was driving her wild with evil sensations! Ohhhh... she had never known anything so deliciously profane as these sensations... they were so horribly wonderful, so devilishly exciting...! She knew now that she was no better than Marge Spanner or Atilla, and that when it was finally over and she was released from her purgatory, she'd never be the clean and righteous woman she'd believed herself to be! And she no longer cared! All that mattered to her now were the wild riveting shafts of indecent pleasure piercing through her cunt like prickling needles of hellish fire!
"Ohhhh, yes! Yes, you dog!" she heard herself blurt uncontrollably through her contorted lips, the rhythm of Atilla's skewering tongue embedded hotly in her pussy too much to resist a moment longer. "Lick me! Lick me off like you sucked Marge! Lick my twat until I explode!"
The eagerly obeying German shepherd seemed to sense his mistress's sudden submissiveness, and with increased desire to please, he insinuated his long, red tongue deeper up inside the quivering hot sheath of her welcoming vagina. Lisa squirmed and bucked under the maddening torture until she thought her heart would burst in her chest, and she screwed her thighs back so she could feel still more of the dog's wet, rough tongue far up inside her thrashing belly. Between her splayed thighs was one mass of burning moist sensitivity, growing more and more intense with every passing second, spiraling up to a pinnacle that would soon expand into orgasm... her very first orgasm reached with the ministrations of some other being.
"Lick me until I cum!" Lisa ordered in ecstatic delight. "That's it, go after my pussy until I cum...!"
Her hotly throbbing vagina flowered open wider and wider, and her moistness increased with each further second that Atilla's tongue worked up between her wide-stretched legs. Her secretions ran in slight, warm trickles down the sides of the animal's mouth pressed so tightly into the softness of her cunt, and down the side of her smoothly gripping buttocks and thighs to soak into the carpet. So enveloped was she that Lisa never heard the back door of her house open, or the soft pattering of tiny feet across the kitchen.
And then...
The blonde teacher caught a small shadow fleetingly cross the mirror above her head. She instantly became aware of a tight, strange gasp behind her, and a slight motion caught the outer corner of her vision. She froze in her kneeling position before the German shepherd as if she'd been suddenly cast of stone.
Then afraid and yet feeling an unexplained quivering of arousal, Lisa turned her head slowly around towards the bedroom door. Her eyes widened like saucers!
Standing in gape-mouthed wonderment was a small boy! It was one of her youngest students, a fourteen year old youth who was part of the last class she'd had only hours before!
"Scott!" she gasped out in horror. "Scott Phillips! What are you doing here?"
"I... I'm sorry, Mrs. Hamilton. I came for my daddy's dog! I came to get Atilla!"
CHAPTER THREE
Shortly before young Scott Phillips had confronted his chemistry teacher in her bedroom, he'd been walking back toward the high school. Scott was a bright lad, able to keep up with the older students in his grade quite easily, although he was keenly aware that his birthday in late May put him at a physical disadvantage. It was sort of like being the runt of the litter, always being left behind whenever possible, and always picked last when it was not.
Scott was compact and wiry in build, which made him look even less developed than he was. Lean and strong for his fourteen years, he fought like the devil in sports with a tough, gritty determination which won him amused respect but never that coveted position as "one of the guys". His hair was fine, naturally curly, and a rich brown, and his face was almost cherubic, with a small nose, flashing smile, dimples, and the most depthless, most innocent round eyes imaginable. Later on his looks would be a blessing for him, wooing girls into all sorts of compromising situations with his bland look of innocence, but now it was a curse he had to bear. The boys all called him "Baldy" in the showers, and the girls... well, the girls he wanted to date just laughed at him.
One of these days he'd show them, he promised himself as he walked along the road. One of these days he'd show them good, and angrily he kicked an empty tin can with his foot. He glanced up then, just as he was turning up the drive to the school, and he saw Marge Spanner walking toward him. She was sauntering along as if she didn't have a care in the world, and just the sight of her nubile body filled Scott with a strange, gripping excitement. He knew all about her reputation from the talk in the showers -- about how she'd put out for the football team, and how once at a party she had done just that for all of them, one after another. And about how she and her older sister would go out on double dates and "do it" together, one in the front seat and one in the back.
Watching her intently as she approached, young Scott felt his slender penis jerk in his underpants, only to go limp again when with resentment, he considered the facts. Oh, he knew what "doing it" was about; he'd taken the sex education courses and listened to all the bullshit -- but Marge was the same grade as he, and was actually doing it, while he was a boy and still a virgin! Somehow it didn't seem fair to him, but then, it was no different than a lot of other things that weren't right.
"Hi, Scott," Marge said as she neared him.
"Hi, Marge." He stopped and scuffed one toe in the dirt, not wanting to look at her too hard, knowing it would only provoke her into making some wisecrack
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