During my years as a newspaperman I had made many friends on the police force and in the offices of county and state agencies. One of my old friends, who knew I am now retired from the news-game but still active in writing, contacted me some months ago and asked if I would be interested in what he called a "bundle of dynamite".
My friend was a clerk in the State Probation Office, and had ready access to reports and applications for probation. Because of the current furor over Sex Education in the public schools, and the notoriety about the conviction on sex charges of a local teacher involved in a Sex Education project in a small-town junior high school, my friend was sure that I, as a writer on sexological subjects, would be interested. He knew his hunch was right when he lifted the file of Bruce Norman-as we shall call him-and examined it fully.
Because my friend is a conscientious man who believes in justice, he developed strong feelings about the matter, and made a full photo-copy for my use of the defendant's pleas to the probation officer and the court, complete with various documents Norman had included. Although this material was part of the public record, only a small part of it had come out during the court hearing, since the accused man had pleaded nolo contendere-"no contest". Understandably, the county newspapers had not seen fit to rake over the full details of this sordid case.
When I read Norman's bizarre account of what had actually happened, I found it difficult to believe. I made it my business to contact the other principals in the sensational affair.
This was not easily done. The children were being protected from "nosey reporters" and the other teachers involved were either in jail, in mental hospitals, or fired and had left town.
After weeks of sweat, blood and tears, I finally contacted some of the students. Most of them verified Norman's account as to the series of events, the "overt acts"-but most of them refuted his claim that he had been lured into the scandalous affair by the promiscuous, provocative behavior of his female students.
One of the two girls in his English II class whom he said had displayed her privates to him purposely, denied it, saying that "Mr. Norman was always trying to look under the girls' dresses."
She told me he used to play with his genitals while he sat at his desk, and his conversation while doing this was always sex-oriented. She said his actions and his conversation had piqued the interest of the girls in the class, including herself, and that she finally succumbed to his verbal advances.
I'm afraid I had to discount this girl's account of Norman's behavior, because she was unaware that he had included her own theme on Sex Ed in his probation application. Of course, Norman could have written this himself, but I doubt if he had the simple teen-age jargon used in the theme that much under his knowledgable control.
The girl's account was also refuted by her best friend, who freely admitted her preoccupation with sex up to the time when the Sex Ed affair blew up in their faces.
I interviewed Bruce Norman in the room of the attorney at the county jail, and he swore to me that the events as he had recounted them, in his eloquent appeal for probation, were true. I obtained his consent to collate, rewrite when necessary, edit and publish any and all of his material including the students' themes, with all names of people and places changed, of course.
I got an eminent psychologist to read Norman's story, and asked him what he thought of the man. His conclusion was that Norman obviously was a sick man. He commented that prison would only worsen his malady, that it was apparent that this man could be easily led into homosexuality behind prison bars. He described him as a sexual psychopath, a pedophile, but harmless to all except young girls, and then harmful only to their morals, not to their physical bodies.
I have collated Norman's documents and edited and filled in his account where necessary for clarity and dramatic impact, striving at all times however, to leave it in his own candid and frequently shocking language, to reflect the intensity of his guilt feelings. I have not changed a word of the precocious students' submitted themes, as I believe it necessary to read them exactly as they were written. Naturally, the themes Norman had picked for inclusion were the most literate and graphic ones.
I have my own opinions on the degree of guilt this man bears, but then perhaps I have been too closely associated with the case to examine all aspects impartially.
I submit it therefore, to you, the reader, for your judgement. If you were the judge, what would your verdict have been on a plea of "no contest"? And if that verdict was "Guilty", what would you have meted out as punishment?
Do you agree with the psychologist who states this man is ill and should not be treated as a criminal? Do you think he should be given a chance to undergo psychotherapy that could help him? Or do you believe he is "an animal" and should be penned up to protect society?
Read his story and then ask yourself the question: "What would I have done in Bruce Norman's place?"
-Rex Sonavan
CHAPTER ONE
I MAKE THE SCENE
Your Honor and Mr. Probation Officer:
By the time you get through reading this appeal for probation, you probably will feel as though you have just read one of those fantastically hyper-sexed novels so popular today. Unfortunately for some of those who may be embarrassed, I cannot rest with telling only a part of the circumstances which led me to my arrest, humiliation, and my presently uncertain future. In order to make my case clear to you, the probation officer and the judge, I must tell the full story, sparing no one-least of all my precocious charges.
I came to Fountainville two years ago after corresponding with Superintendent of Schools John Baxter and receiving a letter from him offering me a position as a teacher, to replace someone who had left. According to Mr. Baxter, I was to teach English I, II and III, as well as two classes in Current Events.
My teaching credentials were accepted by Baxter and the Board of Trustees and I was finally ready, in mid-term, for my first day of teaching at Fountainville Junior High School.
My previous experience, nearly fifteen years of it, had been in the rural Mid-West where most of my pupils were children of farmers or farm tenants. Most of the kids attended school during the day, ran home to finish their chores, did their homework and went to bed. On weekends, they attended a local dance or drove into town with their dates for a couple of hours of fun-and then Sunday School and church on Sunday morning.
During school hours, these kids worked hard, and there was very little nonsense because most of them feared what their parents would do if contacted by the school for some infraction of the rules or for not studying hard enough.
It was quite a shock to me, therefore, when I walked down the hall to my first class at Fountainville Junior High and witnessed the rowdyism, sexual liberty and one fist-fight. All this in about a 150 feet of crowded hallway?
Fortunately for me, an over-sized student monitor broke up the fight before I got to the scene, and the boys went their separate ways. The sexual incident, I thought, could have been just accidental or a figment of my over-active and prudish 50-year-old mind. It had appeared to me that one couple standing together by a row of lockers had vigorously rubbed their pelvises together before parting-but then I was a little nervous and I figured I might have been mistaken.
I introduced myself to the class, writing my name, Bruce Norman, on the blackboard. I checked the homework that was due and found it involved an oral book-report. Icalled on one of the boys to give his report to the class, and then I settled back in my seat, rested my elbows on my desk, and looked over my thirty-two charges. There were twenty-one girls and eleven boys in the class, a much larger group than I had been used to in my previous teaching-experience.
It seemed to me as I gazed around the room that every girl in the class was beautiful. Two of the girls wore glasses, but this did not detract from their obvious sex appeal. In the front row, facing my desk, there were two boys and four girls, and as I looked them over, I got an inkling what my life would be here on this new campus.
Most of the class was intent on the report being delivered by the young man standing next to my desk, but the two girls directly in front of me were ignoring the boy and studying me very carefully. Both of them were blonde and they could almost have passed for twin sisters. They were about the same height and build and they wore similar clothing. The similarity of their appearance caused me to look down at my student roster. One girl's name was Candace Simpkins and the other was named Stella Novack. No, they certainly weren't related, not with names so different.
I looked down at them again, and this time Candace caught my eye. She smiled broadly, winked and then she slowly spread her legs apart, offering me an unobstructed view of what was under her short skirt!
I could feel an urging in my groin and knew that my penis was beginning to react to the momentary scene. The next time I looked down at the front row, both Candace and Stella were staring intently at my bulging crotch.
Embarrassed, I crossed my legs, thanked the young man who had been speaking, and called on a girl from the back of the room.
That first class in English II was probably the longest fifty minutes of my entire life. I remember how I alternately perspired and chilled at the sight of what was under Candace's skirt. Try as I might, I could not keep my eyes from wandering back to it. Adding to my discomfort, Stella had now crossed her legs, hunched her body over to lean on her elbow, and in so doing had given me a near heart-attack. Her short skirt allowed me to see one entire thigh bared to the roundness of her buttock. A small segment of her panties could be discerned, and peeping out from it was a fuzzy-covered, red, raw-looking gash.
When the bell ending the class rang, I breathed a sigh of relief. I'm sure I could not have survived another ten minutes of that tantalizing sight without having a sexual climax right there at my desk. As it was, I couldn't get up until the entire class had left the room, and when I walked down the hall to my next class, I held my briefcase in front of me to hide the obvious bulge in my pants.
The rest of my day went normally, but I caught myself thinking about those two girls in English II every once in a while. Needless to say, it was a very nervous day for me and would have been a very nervous night had I not masturbated vigorously before going to sleep.
The routine in English II was exactly the same the following day and every day for the first week. I never stood up during class, and I'm sure many of the students probably thought I was either crippled or had a hole in my pants.
Unfortunately what my pants had was not a hole, but just the opposite. English II for me became just one fifty-minute erection every day. I knew I could have solved the situation by simply moving the girls to the back of the room. I could have, but I didn't-probably because I really enjoyed the torture of being vamped by these two 13-year-olds.
Monday morning of my second week at Fountainville, the teachers were called to a special meeting in the assembly-hall while the students were given a free period to loll around the campus. Mr. Baxter was on the stage and he stepped up to the microphone when we were all seated.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I have called you all here to give you some news which I'm sure you will receive with mixed emotions. Last Friday night, the Board of Trustees voted to include in the curriculum of our junior high school, classes in Sex Education!"
Immediately a murmur went up from the gathering. As I looked around, however, I noted that only a few of the older teachers appeared to view this new situation with alarm. Most of the younger teachers were eagerly nodding their heads in agreement with the announced decision, and finally one young woman, extremely attractive at that, began to applaud. It took only a couple of seconds until nearly everyone in the auditorium was applauding.
"Well, I'm happy to see you are happy," Baxter went on, "because the board also refused to appropriate any additional funds for special instruction material or instructors!"
A loud groan went up from the audience.
"The board has instructed me to inform you that each of you shall devote one fifty-minute period per week in each of your classes to sex instruction. Now I know some students will be getting two or three classes per week by this method, but we find that this might not be too bad an idea. This will give the students a chance to learn more than one outlook.
"As you know from your attempts to get salary raises, there is a limited amount of funds to work with. I would suggest to each of you to keep track of any money you spend for books or materials if you feel you need them, and if there is any money left at the end of the school year, we may be able to pry it loose from the trustees."
"How far are we supposed to go with this sex-study?" one of the men in the front row inquired.
"I leave that to your discretion. Knowing junior high school students as I do, perhaps we teachers may wind up learning a few new things ourselves," Baxter laughed and the crowd joined in.
By noon the entire student-body knew of the plans to conduct coeducational sex classes. The halls were buzzing with giggles and whispers among the kids, and I began to wonder if perhaps Baxter was right. Maybe I couldn't really teach these young people anything about sex that they didn't already know. Perhaps, as he jokingly remarked, they could enlighten ME on a few things!
It had been a long time since I had actually cracked a book on the subject. After my divorce and subsequent bachelorhood, I had on a few occasions, sought female companionship, but most of the women I had bedded down with during these times were in their thirties or late twenties, and the sex I had experienced with them was just about the same type I had known with my wife before and after we were married. I wondered if I really was equipped with the knowledge to be an instructor in this field. But despite my misgivings, I found myself anticipating my first sex class.
The teachers' library at school had nothing of a sexual nature except the ordinary biology texts, so that evening I went to the main library in town and researched the subject. As I read the various volumes devoted to sex, I found myself growing excited over what I thought were new innovations in the field. At times I became actually embarrassed over what I was reading, and I'm sure I probably blushed at the frankness with which the authors of these books wrote.
While I pored over the volumes, someone took the chair across from me at the library-table. It was a very lovely young woman whom I immediately recognized as the teacher who had led the applause in the auditorium.
"Hi!" I whispered. "I see you're boning up on the subject, too!"
"Oh, yes, I recognize you." She leaned over the table and offered me her hand. "You're the new English and Current Events teacher, aren't you?"
Her hand was soft and warm and the cleavage she displayed as she leaned across the table rather unnerved me.
"I'm sort of surprised to see you here," she went on, pulling her hand out of my tight grasp. "I was sure all you married men would simply go home, discuss it with your wives and be all set for class the next dayf"
"I don't have a wife," I stammered, "and I guess I have a bad memory because I've discovered things in these books that absolutely astound me."
"Oh?" she inquired, reaching for one of the volumes. "May I look one of them over while you're perusing that one?"
"Be my guest," I replied almost flippantly. "But don't say I didn't warn you!"
I returned to the book I had been studying but I found myself glancing over the top of the book at my lovely co-re searcher. She was in her late twenties, about five-foot-six, and she had about 125 pounds that were distributed beautifully. Her brown hair framed a face that could easily have been taken for a movie queen's and she wore her clothing with impeccable taste.
I noticed that her eyes would get big every once in a while as she read some juicy description in a case history. I watched her intently then, forgetting my reason for being there. Her tongue came out of her mouth and she licked her lips over and over. Beneath the table, her leg touched mine as she crossed her legs, and soon she was unconsciously rubbing my thigh with her calf. I was sure my breathing became so heavy that the librarian in the next room would be able to hear, but this was probably only my imagination.
Gradually I found myself cooperating with her leg and rubbing back. I noticed a small sheen of perspiration appear over her upper lip, and her breathing was perceptibly heavier as was mine while I watched her.
I found myself surreptitiously reaching under the table to touch her knee with my hand. My touch must have startled her because she stopped reading and looked at me across the table. I wasn't sure just what her expression denoted, but I found out soon enough when she put her hand under the table, still looking at me, grasped mine, squeezed it, and then plunged it under her dress and halfway up her thigh.
I nearly lost my balance when she did this, and my chair scraped loudly on the shiny hardwood floor as I went forward. I suddenly became terrified and pulled my hand from her grasp, sat up straight and wiped my brow with the sleeve of my sports-j acket.
"Er ... ah ... perhaps we should go outside for a smoke," I suggested. "It's getting a bit warm in here, don't you agree?"
She closed the book she had been reading and reached over the table to whisper to me. I leaned forward to hear what she was saying.
"I'm smoking already!" she breathed. "For God's sake, let's get out of here!"
My car was right out in front of the building, and I offered to drive her home. She got in the passenger side and as I entered the driver's side to slide under the steering-wheel, I found her lithe body as close to me as she could get. Her hand went to my thigh and she rubbed it back and forth. To me it felt like a red-hot poker!
"You said you weren't married, but do you live alone?" she asked.
"Yes," I answered shakily. "All alone."
"Take me to your place then," she almost panted. "I live with my younger sister, and the things I have on my mind wouldn't be right for her to see or hear!"
I couldn't believe it! Here I was, a middle-aged, rather bashful square John, and I was being seduced by a beautiful young woman any man in his right mind would give a month's salary just to kiss. Her hand on my thigh kept moving and it finally came to rest on my penis, which by this time, was straining beneath my zipper. She fondled it for a moment and then slid the tab of the zipper down and buried her head in my lap.
My cock was suddenly in her mouth and she was giving me the most exquisite blow-job I ever had. I'm sure I had many a near-miss in traffic during the drive to my apartment, but we reached it safely. As a matter-of-fact, I blew my wad into her mouth just as I shut the motor off. She licked me clean, pushed my cock back into my pants, zipped me up again and then sat up and asked for a cigarette!
We leaned against each other in the self-service elevator and down the hall to my apartment. When we got inside, she pushed the door shut before I could touch it and then threw her arms around my neck, forcing her tongue into my open mouth while her pelvis ground against my cock.
Breaking the clinch, we separated and simply looked at each other for a minute and then we both seemed to go crazy! We tore our clothes off, and when we were naked, we fell to the floor as one. I could taste my own sperm as we kissed, but instead of becoming nauseated by the taste, I seemed to relish it.
She reached for my prick and then grasping me about the hips with her strong legs, she reared up to stab herself with my stiff lance.
We must have bounced on the floor for a half-hour before I was able to come again, but she had no difficulty in climaxing over and over. It seemed to me that she came at least ten times before I finally shot my load into her juicy sheath. Then we both passed out.
When we awoke, the sun was streaming into the room. I looked at my watch and saw it was just five a.m. We both scrambled up, looked at each other and then broke out into hearty laughter, leaning on each other for support.
We showered together, had a fast screw while standing in the shower, and then dressed. She phoned her sister to explain that she had stayed with a girl friend who was also a teacher, and then we sat and drank coffee until it was time to head, for work.
During our coffee-drinking I learned she was twenty-six years old, and lived with her 18-year-old sister. They were both single and their parents lived in Idaho. Her name was Claire Jackman and her sister's name was Christina or Tina.
We apologized to each other for our scandalous behavior the night before, but we both admitted that we probably needed the sexual outlet after reading those explicit texts. Then we drove to school.
CHAPTER TWO
MY PRECOCIOUS PUPILS
My first class of the day, English II, was as delightful as ever, with each of the Lolita-type temptresses attempting to outdo each other in baring their privates to my by now practiced eye.
Stella had evolved a new approach which must have taken quite a bit of practice at home. She had arranged her skirt in such a way that when she would sit on one foot, the skirt would form a tent over her lap. She positioned her other leg just so, and none of the other students in the class could see that she had arranged the peep-show for my benefit.
There was little or no finesse to Candace's performance, however, and she continued to keep her legs spread carelessly, offering me a constant view of her genital area which was only partially covered by the narrow crotch of her panties.
The class was about half-over and I was getting ready to assign that night's homework when Candace raised her hand in the air. I called on her, thinking perhaps she might ask some academic question.
"Mr. Norman, when are you going to start teaching us?"
"Why...." I almost blustered, "I had thought I was in the process of teaching you now! Haven't you learned anything about our English language at all since I've been here?"
"Oh, not English, Mr. Norman," she almost cooed as she spoke. "I mean about ... you know ... sex? Some of the other kids have been wondering about it too, haven't they, Stella?"
Her partner in crime looked the picture of innocence as she nodded her head in as sent. I couldn't help it, I chuckled aloud. This caused the entire class to laugh.
Suddenly more hands came up, and I called on others, to find they all appeared most anxious for their sex instruction to begin. I strongly felt that they were all trying to avoid the English II homework assignment, but the trustees had said sex instruction should begin immediately. I was silent for a few moments while the class waited for my reply to their insistent request for Sex Ed, as they called it.
"The only way any instructor can start teaching such a subject," I began, "is to find out just how much is actually known by his pupils already. Now our first class in Sex Ed will be on Friday. In the meantime, I want each of you to type out for me what you believe is your complete knowledge of sex.
"If .there are any of you who have experienced or witnessed sexual intercourse, either animal or human, I want you to describe in detail just what you think took place and why it took place!
"I don't want these themes signed, because I don't want to know who the writer is. I don't want them handwritten, either, because I would be able to distinguish the writer by his penmanship-or the lack of it. Those of you who do not have typewriters at home, will be permitted to use the ones in the typing classroom when they are available. I'll make arrangements for you. Now, are there any questions?"
Naturally it was Candace's hand which rose urgently.
"Yes, Candace?" I asked.
"Well, Mr. Norman, do you want us to use the words we know ... you know ... the ... dirty words, or do we have to know the technical terms for things? I don't know any technical words," she went on, "but I do know the dirty words!"
I'll just bet you do, I thought to myself while the rest of the class giggled at the boldness of her inquiry.
"I'm not going to tell you how to write it," I replied. "That is entirely up to you. Use the language you are most familiar with!"
"You ended that sentence with a proposition, Mr. Norman," Candace hurried to correct me.
"I am sorry," I said nervously. "I stand corrected. However, Candace, the word is preposition not proposition, understand?"
"Proposition still sounds better," she mumbled as she sat down.
I gave the same assignment to my other classes that day, and I thought the subject of Sex Ed was over until Friday. How very wrong I was!
That night I had figured on going to bed early, especially after having such a workout the previous night. I had showered and was relaxing with a book, dressed only in my robe and slippers, when the phone rang.
"Hello, Mr. Norman?" a female voice asked tentatively.
"Yes, this is he. Who is this?" I asked.
"This is Candace ... only I hate that name. All my friends call me Candy-you know, like in the book."
"For heaven's sake, Candace ... Candy, you shouldn't be calling me up here! How in the world did you get my phone number?"
"Oh, that was easy! I just asked Directory Assistance, you know, Information, and she gave it to me. You're not mad, are you? I just wanted to know something about our schoolwork."
"Oh, I see," I said, but I really didn't. "What was it you wanted to know, Candy?"
"Gee, I'm glad you're not sore ... well, what I wanted to know was, what's the real name for a cherry?"
"A what?" I shouted into the phone.
"A cherry! You know, the thing a girl loses when she isn't a virgin no more...."
"ANY more, Candy, ANY more!"
"Well, what's it called?"
"What's WHAT called?"
"Are you puttin' me on? I wanna know what you call that thing that a guy busts when he fucks a girl who's virgin! The only name I know is cherry, but I know there must be a better name for it than that!"
"When a girl has intercourse for the first time...."
"You mean when she gets fucked for the first time," she interrupted.
"That's not a very nice word. If you must use a word, Candy, the word is intercourse."
"You mean the guy busts her 'intercourse'?"
"No, no, no!" I shouted. "Intercourse is the word for fucking ... now you've got me saying it. The other word you want, Candy, is hymen, the technical term for what is called in the vernacular, a cherry."
"Does it hurt real bad when it's busted?" she asked.
"Now I have a feeling you're putting me on, Candy," I replied. "I'm certain you're well aware of how it feels ... or have you simply forgotten? Now I think this conversation has gone far enough. Please don't ever call me at home again, Candy-and I'll expect your theme to be among the rest of them on Friday."
I guess I was a little out of sorts with the girl and possibly a bit harsh, but she had rattled me and she knew it. I hung up, turned out the light and went to bed.
For the first hour I tossed and turned, unable to relax and go to sleep. I kept conjuring up visions of the two teen-age girls, Candace and Stella. My mind pictured them in every detail and I slowly began to include myself in the picture.
I found myself with an erection as I thought about them, so I did the only thing possible under the circumstances. I frigged myself and imagined that it was one or both of the girls doing it to me. It only took a few minutes for me to erupt in my hand. I cleaned myself off with a tissue and then I turned over and passed out.
Nothing of any consequence happened until Friday night when I sat at home going over the themes which my classes had written. In spite of myself, I kept trying to find Candy's theme among them. I was certain I would recognize it.
Most of the papers were inconsequential and told me very little about the sex knowledge of my students. Here and there a theme would be worth a second glance. I have kept copies of the pertinent and detailed ones and am including them in this report, so that you will see what temptations were constantly besieging me.
The first interesting paper was from a girl in one of my Current Events classes. It went into great detail and seemed to be told from experience-not just made up.
Her theme (which I have corrected only in spelling and punctuation) went like this:
My brother and I used to be bathed together in the same bathtub because we were just a year apart in age. I guess when I was about seven years old, I began to notice that he was built different than I was. It didn't disturb me, but I guess I wondered about it. When we were both about eight or nine years old, our baby-sitter, a girl about fourteen or so, was giving us a bath together while our folks were at a movie.
I couldn't help notice that the sitter, I'll call her Jane, paid very close attention to our privates when she soaped us. With me, she would not use a wash-cloth, just her fingers, and when she washed me down there, she always managed to push one of her fingers into my slit. Not far, mind you, but just a little way in. It gave me a sort of a funny feeling. A good feeling, but a funny one.
When she washed my brother's little thing, she would sort of play with it until it wasn't small any more. I remembered how surprised I was as I watched it grow straight and stiff. I could see my brother blush as he watched it grow, too, but he did nothing to stop the sitter from playing with it.
"Hey, how about that!" the sitter exclaimed. "Your little dong likes to be played with! Look! It's standing up asking for more!" She kept on playing with my brother until I, feeling that this was not a nice thing to be doing, stood up and got out of the tub.
I dried myself with a towel and went into our bedroom and put on my nightgown. I could hear some whispering in the bathroom, but I could not hear what was going on.
Curiosity got the better of me finally, and I crept to the door and peered through the open crack by the hinges. What I saw sent hot and cold chills all over my body, but I didn't know why I felt this way. Automatically I felt my hand go down to my slit and poke one finger in about an inch. It felt real good, and the more I watched the more I poked.
Jane was seated on the toilet and my brother was standing in front of her between her legs which were spread wide. Her skirt was pulled above her hips and she had hold of my brother's hand, pushing his fingers in and out of her hole while she was sucking on his dong, as she called it.
What fascinated me the most was the hair around her slit. Mine was bare, and this was the first time I had ever seen pubic hair. Actually it wasn't much because she was only fourteen but to me, at that time, it seemed like an awful lot.
She kept sucking on my brother's dong and pushing his finger in and out of her slit until she suddenly stiffened and let out a moan. I know now that she had climaxed, but at that time, I kept thinking she must have hurt herself with my brother's finger, which she wiped off with the wash-cloth.
Then she took the cloth and wiped herself off down there. She straightened the crotch of her panties which had been pushed aside for my brother's finger, and pulled her skirt back down as she stood up. Although she was whispering, I could now hear her tell my brother that this was to be their big secret and that he must promise never to tell a soul about what happened. He promised, and I just managed to scramble under the covers before they emerged from the bathroom.
We had bunk beds, and I slept on the bottom bunk while my brother slept above me. After the lights were out and the sitter had closed the door and gone downstairs, I kept seeing the same thing over and over in my mind-her sucking him and his hand going into her hole. Unable to sleep, I called to my brother. He asked me what I wanted.
"You won't get mad at me if I tell you something?" I asked.
"I won't get mad. What is it?"
"I saw you and Jane in the bathroom," I blurted out.
"You won't tell, will you?" The scared boy jumped down from his bunk and sat on my bed. "Please promise you won't snitch!" he begged.
"I'm no snitcher," I bragged, "but what I want to know is, did it feel real good-you know, what she was doing to you?"
"Boy, did it ever!" he smiled. "I heard some of the kids talk about girls giving blow-jobs, but I didn't believe them. Most of them just talk a lot and they don't really know anything," he boasted.
"But what about what you were doing to her ... what was that?" I asked innocently.
"Boy, you are dumb!" he said. "But I guess you're kinda young to know about that stuff."
"I'm only eleven months younger than you," I cried angrily. "I do too know a lot of stuff like that!"
"Okay, smartie," he sneered, "if you know so much, why did you ask me about it?"
"Well ... I don't know as much as you do," I said coyly, playing on his male ego, although I didn't realize it at the time.
"Well ... okay, I'll wise you up! She was giving me a blow-job and I was finger-fucking her! That's what boys and girls do when they go out on dates ... you know ... like to the drive-in movie."
"But can't the girl get a baby that way?" I asked.
"Boy, you are dumb! No, the guy has to stick his thing into her thing and shoot some stuff in it, before the girl can have a baby."
"Gee," I marveled, "you sure know a lot of stuff!"
"Sure I do! I'm a boy and they always know all about that stuff. Hey, I've got an idea. I think Jane has a boy come in the house after she thinks we're asleep. Let's sneak downstairs and peek in on them."
It sounded like a good idea, and I couldn't sleep anyway, after all the exciting conversation, so I got out of bed and followed my brother down the stairs quietly. We could hear voices in the living room where there was only one dim light on. We sneaked closer and positioned ourselves behind the room-divider which stood in pitch darkness and had holes for us to spy through.
The boy with Jane was about her age and he was struggling to get out of his pants when we came on the scene. Jane was already down to just her panties and I remember how my breath caught when I saw her cone-shaped breasts bare and shining in the dim light, their nipples dark and standing erect.
She was seated on the couch and caressing her breasts, pulling the nipples through her fingers while she played with them. His pants off, the boy stretched himself on top of her and we saw their hips move in rhythm, rubbing against each other. I felt a hand under my nightgown and looked down at my brother's crotch. He had his dong out and he was rubbing it back and forth with one hand while he tried to play with my slit with the other. It felt real good and I returned to watching the couple on the couch.
Jane pushed the boy off her, stood up and stripped her panties off. Once again the hair around her hole fascinated me. It must have done something to the boy, too, because he reached for her hips and slid down to the floor on his knees in front of her. She spread her legs and I watched him stick out his tongue and push his face right into her hairy slit.
His head moved up and down and around and I looked at Jane's face while he was doing this. Her eyes were closed and she was swinging her head around and had both hands on his head pushing him closer and deeper into her light foliage. Soon she shuddered and I could hear sounds of slurping, like when my Dad used to drink coffee that was too hot. They both got back on the couch then and Jane put one of her legs over the back and the other on the floor, spreading her legs as far as they could go.
We watched as the boy pulled his shorts off and I'll never forget my feeling when I saw the huge dong that sprouted between his legs! Compared to my brother's, it was a monster! He mounted Jane and we saw her guide his thing into her hole. When it was in, they both bounced up and down on the couch and Jane was moaning and groaning with each bounce. I still remember the words she uttered.
"Do it faster!" she kept saying. "Fuck me faster, faster!" Then pretty soon they both lay still.
I turned my attention to my brother and me, and found it was now my hand that was rubbing on his dong and it was also full of a white sticky substance. There was a strange but good feeling between my legs too, as his finger went in and out of my slit with its full length.
When the couple on the couch decided to get dressed, we knew the show was over for tonight and we quietly scampered back to our room.
My brother climbed up to his bunk, and I crawled under the covers to lie awake most of the night, playing with my slit and wondering why it felt so good.
When we were twelve, my brother and I finally got together and actually had sexual intercourse. He used a rubber so that I wouldn't get pregnant, and there was no pain because both of our finger shad stretched my slit and ruptured my cherry long ago.
We still sleep together when we can, and I find I can't let any other boy put his thing into me. Only my brother? I get scared when a boy starts to put on a rubber, although two seconds earlier, I wanted it so bad I could cry. I'm getting the reputation of a prick-teaser around school because I get the guys all hot and bothered, even jacking them off, but I just can't let the boy enter me? After a bad evening in a drive-in or at a party, when I get so horny I can't stand it, I go home and almost rape my brother!
He is starting to get a conscience now, and he wants to call a halt to our love-making. He says incest is dangerous and can drive both of us crazy. I'm going crazy just thinking about his cock!
Could he be right?
CHAPTER THREE
WHO'S EDUCATING WHOM?
The next interesting and coherently written theme was from one of the male students in my English n class. As I read it, amazed at its contents, I tried to figure out who in the world the boy could be. There was absolutely no hint to his identity in the theme. This was his story:
My father died when I was a baby and I have grown up (if you can call thirteen grown-up) pampered and spoiled by my mother. My mother is a young, pretty woman who could go out with just about any man she has a mind to, but she refuses to have anything to do with any of them, devoting all her time to me.
I was ten years old before she finally heeded my pleas to let me take a bath by myself and dress myself. It seemed she wanted to be with me every minute of the day. I'm sure if we could afford it, she would have hired a private tutor so that I wouldn't have to go to school five days a week.
I was never permitted to indulge in any sports, as my mother was fearful that I might be hurt. She did buy a piano and a set of tennis-racquets for me, but my circle of friends was so limited by her constant watchfulness that I never got a chance to use the racquets.
Last year my aunt and uncle, Mom's sister and brother-in-law, and my cousin Tim visited us for a week. To me this was heaven, just having some people in the house.
Tim was a year older than I and we got to be pretty close pals during that week. I slept in a double-bed with Tim while Aunt Jill and Uncle Paul slept on a studio-couch in our den. My room was down the hall completely away from both of the other bedrooms, so Tim and I were able to talk until the small hours of the morning and not be disturbed or bother any of the other sleepers in the house.
The second night of their visit, Tim and I were lying in bed when Tim brought up a subject I had often thought about, but one which frightened me to death. He started to talk about girls!
"Have you ever done it?" he asked me.
"No," I replied. "Have you?"
"Twice," he answered, "both with different girls, too!"
"What's it like?" I inquired anxiously.
"Man, it's the greatest! It even feels better than when you jack yourself off!"
"What's that?"
"Aw, you're kidding me! No, I guess you're not," he said after seeing that I was really serious. ' 'Well, have you ever had a hard-on?"
"You mean, has my thing ever got real hard? Yes, it's hard every morning when I wake up."
"Aw, that's just a piss hard-on? It goes away after you pee, doesn't it?" I had to agree that after I came back from the bathroom, the stiffness was gone. "Haven't you ever gotten hard any other time?"
"Yes, but I don't want to talk about it!" I answered.
"Come on, tell me! We're pals, aren't we?"
Then I told him about seeing this picture one of the kids at school swiped from his older brother who had bought it in Mexico. It was a picture of a girl, completely naked, who was being fucked in the ass by a great big Negro. The Negro had about the biggest cock I had ever seen and he had it rammed almost all the way into the girl's ass. I had dreamed about that picture and that huge cock for a week, and each time I would wake up with a hard-on. I confided this to Tim.
"But it wasn't the girl you thought about?" Tim asked.
"No, it was just that great big black cock!"
"Don't you like girls?" he asked me.
"Sure, I like them," I replied, "but I don't think they like me very much. I've never been on a date, you know."
"Tomorrow," Tim winked, "we are going down to the park and we're going to get you all fixed up! If the girls in the park around here are anything like the girls in the parks at home, we'll both get a little piece. Okay?"
I nodded in agreement.
"Now," he said, reaching over and grabbing my limp prick, "let's frig each other to sleep. Go ahead, get ahold of mine. Just jack it off like this!"
I could feel my cock come alive as quickly as he had it in his hand. It grew to its full size as he rubbed it up and down. I reached over and did the same to his prick. Before long, both of us had come into each other's hand. We wiped our hands on our socks which were on the floor beside the bed, and then we turned over and went to sleep. That night I dreamed I was sucking Tim's cock.
The next day we toured the park looking for girls. We finally were lucky enough to pick up a couple of them on the playground. I felt sure that both of the girls were too young to even be interested in boys, but it turned out they really were interested?
Tim did most of the talking while we were fooling around on the swings. He lied and told them we were both fifteen, and the girls also lied and said they were fourteen. I'm sure neither one of them was over twelve. Both of them, however, did show signs of boobs, and one of the girls had a pack of cigarettes in her pocket. They both wore crotch-riding shorts and had their midriffs tied, showing an expanse of skin. I remember how interested I was in the tightness of their shorts, especially when I looked at their cute though small asses.
Tim was the bold one of the two of us, and he made the choice of the tallest of the two girls, though neither one was very tall. Her name, she told us, was Sandy. The girl who was supposed to be with me said her name was Myra. Tim started pushing his girl on the swing and he would grab a feel every time he pushed. Sandy would scream and giggle and tell him to "stop that," but we all knew she was loving every minute of it.
Myra was about as shy as I was and there was very little conversation between us, although I too pushed her on the swing. I was not bold enough to cop a feel, however.
We started to walk them home when Sandy hit on an idea.
"Listen, my folks won't be home tonight. It's their lodge night. So why don't you stay all night with me, Myra, and the guys can come over after the folks have split?"
"I don't know...." Myra hedged.
"It'll be a gasf C'mon, I'll go in with you and ask your Mom if you can!"
Turning to us, she told us her address and what time to be at her house. "And don't be late!" she yelled after us.
We told our folks we were going down to school to practice dancing with the dancing-class which met twice a week. My mother of course, was overjoyed at the thought that I would be learning something useful instead of sports.
We arrived at Sandy's house on time and she let us in. Myra was seated on the couch, still wearing the same shorts she had on earlier. I went over and sat down next to her. Sandy had changed into a micro-skirt and she was barefoot.
Sandy selected some records and put them on the stereo and then she and Tim started dancing. I asked Myra if she wanted to dance and was much relieved when she said no. We watched Sandy and Tim. At the end of the first record, Sandy whispered something into Tim's ear and he lit up like a Christmas tree and nodded yes.
Sandy went into the kitchen and soon returned with some glasses and a bottle of her folks' liquor. She handed them to Tim and then returned to the kitchen, running all the while and showing us a glimpse of lace bikini-panties as she flew. She came back with some ice and a large bottle of cola.
Tim poured the drinks and handed one to each of us. I took a sip of mine and almost gagged. It was strong. I looked over at Myra and was surprised to see her take two large gulps with no reaction at all. Almost like she was drinking water!
I nursed my drink for a long time, but the other three drank the stuff like it was going out of style. It was obvious that both Tim and Sandy were stoned. They were hanging onto each other in the middle of the room, rubbing up against each other and swapping tongues and spit.
I turned to Myra and put my arm around her shoulder, tilted her face toward mine and kissed her lightly on the lips. I was surprised when her tongue came out and flicked into my mouth. She adjusted herself and reached for my head, pushing my lips back against hers. This time the kiss was not a light one-this time we soul-kissed! We were interrupted by something covering us up. We parted and removed the object that had been thrown over our heads. It was Sandy's dress!
Tim's pants and shorts were lying in a heap in the middle of the floor, and when we looked, Sandy was tugging her bikini-panties off her hips. The two of them crushed against each other and then Tim's cock which was fully erect and stiff, was sliding between Sandy's legs.
Tim hadn't noticed-or if he did, he just didn't care, but I noticed and became a bit scared. Just before the bodies came together, I had a good look at Sandy's cunt. It was red, juicy, all the things a cunt is supposed to be-except it didn't have a hair around it.
I began to wonder just how old the girls were, but my fears soon melted when Myra drunkenly began kissing me again. I started to play with her boobs while she was busy tonguing me, and I discovered they were mere nubs with nipples. My hand went down to her crotch and slid under the tight material. She too was as bald as a cue-ball. When my hand touched her down there, her hips started pumping against my hand and finally I pushed one finger into her juicy, sticky slit.
Her hand pushed down under my belt and she grasped my stiff cock and squeezed it and pulled it.
We were just about out of breath when we separated for a moment and looked over at my cousin and Sandy. Tim was lying on the floor on his back and Sandy had impaled herself on his prick. She was bobbing and weaving and bucking like a rodeo-rider on a bronc. Myra caught her breath at the scene and started divesting herself of her few clothes.
As soon as she had them off, she fell to the floor, spread her legs and held her arms out to me. I hurriedly got out of my pants and shorts and almost fell on her. She tilted her hips into the air and then grasped my cock from underneath, placed it against her hole and then pulled my hips down at the same moment she thrust hers forward.
The pain hit me like a shot. For a second, I thought my prick had entered a meat-grinder, but the pain soon departed, and I was left with a strange but wonderful feeling as we pumped against each other. Myra uttered guttural sounds and moans as she seemed to have one climax after another. Finally it was my turn to come, and I felt as though the entire world was coming to an end. Firecrackers exploded and bombs burst at the precise moment my dam opened its gates and flooded her insides with my semen.
We lay there for a moment resting, and then I looked down at my cock which was still inside her. No wonder it hurt! It wasn't in her pussy! It was buried to the hilt in her ass-hole!
I am almost ashamed to admit it, and I wouldn't if there was any way for you to trace this theme, but, although I have fucked twenty or thirty times during the last year, I am still technically a virgin! I have yet to feel my cock slide into a girl's cunt! It's always been by the rear. Naturally I am beginning to wonder about myself. Am I queer? Maybe I am, because five or six of these fucking-sessions were with boys!
I don't feel as though I am a homosexual, however, because I have no desire to have some boy stick his dong in my ass. I have, however, sucked two of the boys off after fucking them, but that doesn't prove anything, because I've licked the girls' asses clean after I've corn-holed them. But I wish I knew for sure.
Do you think this is all my mother's fault?
CHAPTER FOUR
STELLA'S THEME
As I searched through the papers to find Candy's and Stella's, a knock on the door interrupted me. I had showered earlier and only had on my terrycloth robe and slippers, so I tightened the belt around the robe and answered the summons. Before I had a chance to halt them, Stella and Candy rushed past me into the room.
"What the hell....!" I stammered.
"Hurry up and close the door before someone sees us," Candy whispered. "We sneaked up the back way to make sure you wouldn't get into any trouble."
"ShiW" I exclaimed. "I'm in trouble already just by you kids coming herer" I hurriedly closed the door and turned to face them. "Now, what in hell do you girls want?"
"See, I told you he would be reading the themes tonight." Candy pointed to the pile of papers on the foot of my bed. "Did you read ours yet?" she asked, starting to finger through the papers.
"You leave those papers alone and get the hell out of here!" I almost shouted. "Those papers aren't supposed to be read by anyone else but me!"
"Have you read ours yet?" Candy insisted, ignoring my command to leave.
"How in hell would I know if I read yours?" I was getting impatient. "The themes are all unsigned and are typed."
"No, he hasn't read ours yet, Stella," she winked at her buddy. "He'd know it if he'd read ours! Here, let's try and find them for him," she went on, shuffling through the stack of themes.
I started to interfere, but my robe began to fall open and I became too busy with the belt to stop them.
"Here's mine," Candy exclaimed. "Now let's see if we can find yours, Stella." They rummaged through the pile and then turned to me triumphantly with two of the themes in their hands.
"Okay, okay, you win," I said resignedly. "I'll read them next. Now will you two demons get out of here before someone finds out I have two adolescent nymphomaniacs in my room ... please?"
"Oh, no," Candy insisted, sitting on the bed. "We're not leaving until you've read both our stories, are we, Stella?" She patted the bed next to her hips and Stella sat down beside her, both girls grinning triumphantly.
They knew I could not make a fuss, because they were wise enough to realize that no one would believe my story. Just being dressed the way I was could have convinced anyone that I was lying if I said the girls forced their way in. I consented to read the themes, provided both girls would stay seated where they were and be absolutely quiet. I took up Stella's to read first. It was quite a theme. It read like this:
When I was ten years old, I raped our family dog. Well, I guess I really didn't rape him because he was sure willing, but we did have intercourse. This is what happened.
Our dog Butch, like all male dogs, always kept putting his nose in between my legs and trying to smell my crotch. One afternoon while I was home alone reading on my bed, Butch jumped up on the bed and started to sniff around my crotch as usual. Usually I would have pushed him away and scolded him, but this time I happened to be in the middle of a very hot love-story in a teenage lovers' magazine.
When Butch put his nose to my crotch and sniffed, it felt good and I sort of rubbed my legs together. I was lying there in just my panties, and Butch started to lick the place between my legs. I guess he smelled the juice or something. Anyway, it felt so good that I put the magazine down and closed my eyes and just let him go ahead and lick. Pretty soon I head him panting as though he needed a drink of water, and he had stopped his licking.
I looked down at him and he was sitting there just staring at my crotch-and that's when I saw it? Coming out of the fur on his belly was a long, skinny, pinkish cock! I couldn't help it ... I reached down and felt of it and soon Butch was riding my arm while my hand played with his stick. Some stuff came out of it and I wiped it off of my hand and wrist and then lay back to read some more, still hot and bothered although I was only ten.
But Butch started to sniff at my little pussy again and this time I really went ape. I pulled the crotch of the panties aside and let him get his tongue into the real thing. It really shook me up-his cold nose against my leg and his long, rough tongue snaking into my slit.
Pretty soon I noticed his dong sliding out again, and this time I lifted him up and shoved his lower end against me. It was a weird feeling, having that slimy thing pressed against my belly, sliding up and down. Suddenly I reached down and took hold of it and put the pointed tip of it against my small snatch. Butch grunted and then gave his rump one good shove. It was a good thing I was home alone, because I screamed bloody murder!
I'm still not sure whether the pain was worse for me than it was for Butch because he let out a howl at the same time I yelled. I grabbed hold of his neck and just about threw him out the door. I must have hurt him, because he went out after my folks came home and he never came home again.
My poor little pussy was so sore after that prong of Butch's got inside of it, that I sneaked some vaseline into my room at night and very gently massaged the rim of it and even inside the slit. It got better very soon, but I liked the feel of the massage so much that I kept on doing it, only without the vaseline.
Masturbating became a regular thing for me after that. I would sneak love-stories into my room at night, get under the covers with a small flashlight, and I would frig myself at the same time as I read about love and passion. I guess this went on for about a year, and then we moved here where I met Candy. After chumming around for a while, we started to tell each other our secrets and I told her of my constant masturbation. She laughed and said she had been doing the same thing for just about as long.
The first night we slept together over at her house, we played with each other and found that this was far more satisfactory. After that, mutual masturbation became almost a daily thing for us.
One day when we were about twelve, we were playing in the park. I had on my real short-shorts and Candy was wearing a very tight and short skirt. We had been fooling around the playground when I saw a man about fifty years old sitting on a bench nearby watching us. His eyes seemed to be glued to our legs and our rumps as we played.
I whispered to Candy about him and she stole a glance in his direction without letting on that we knew he was watching us. It was Candy who noticed that he had his hands in his pockets and was playing with his cock. Candy motioned for me to follow her and we went into the girls' restroom.
"Wanna have some fun?" she asked me.
"Sure," I said. "How?"
"Well, let's shake that old fella up a little. Let's give him something to really get him all hot and bothered!"
"Okay!" I agreed gleefully. "But how do we do it? We can't undress right out on the playground."
"Here, I'll show you," she said, and took her panties off, stuffing them under the used paper towels in the waste-basket. "Now I'm going to give him a sight of my crack every chance I get. The swings are the best way to do it."
"That's fine for you, but how about me? I'm wearing these tight shorts!"
Then Candy told me how to do it. We both went out and sat down on swings facing him. He still had his hands in his pockets, but his thing must have shrunk because he wasn't shoving it around any more. Candy started pumping the swing, keeping her legs wide apart. The wind would catch her skirt and lift it just enough so that the old boy got a good eyeful of her naked cunt! She was having a ball?
I took the opportunity, while his eyes were glued on Candy's snatch, to push my shorts and panties to the side of my slit. I tucked them under so that they would stay, and then I too started pumping with my legs spread wide.
The poor old coot was going crazy, his eyes darting from one bared cunt to the other. We could see his hands working feverishly at his cock and then he suddenly bent over, pulling his hands out of his pockets and grabbing his bulge. He had come and he was trying to hold it back, but it was no use. We watched him, and later when he got up to leave, there was a big wet spot on the front of his pants.
Candy and I had a good laugh over the old man, and then the thought struck us that it would be fun to get men all shook up over us. We had both started to blossom out in the titty department and we had a bit of hair around our slits. We took every opportunity to display our wares to any man who would look, and soon we figured we had caused at least a hundred hard-ons for perfect strangers. If we count YOU, Mr. Norman, we'd have to say a hundred and one!
It was fun, but it was not satisfying enough. We wanted more, but we didn't know how to go about getting it. Then one day the playground supervisor called us into her office. She closed the door and windows, sat behind her desk and looked at the two of us very sternly.
"I've been observing you two girls for a couple of weeks now," she began, "and I've never seen anyone so adept in the art of prick-teasing as you two!"
We both protested that we were innocent, but to no avail. She went into detail about our methods of operation, and we knew we had really had it!
"What are you going to do?" Candy asked. "Turn us over to the cops or to our parents, or what?"
"I could, you know." She never smiled or anything, just sat there looking at us. "If I report your actions to the authorities or even your parents, do you know what they will do to you?"
Not waiting for a reply, she went on: "They would probably put you both in a home for wayward girls until you were eighteen." She let the thought of six years of confinement sink in before she spoke again.
"I think I do know of a solution, however," she said, standing and coming over and putting her arms around both of us.
We begged her to tell us, promising that we would do anything to keep from going to a reform school. She went to her desk and wrote on a piece of paper, handing it to Candy.
"This is my address. You both come to see me tonight at seven o'clock. Be sure and take a bath when you get home this afternoon, so that you'll be nice and clean and pretty-smelling tonight!"
With that she gently pushed us out of her office, leaving two grateful but puzzled girls standing on the asphalt of the playground.
We both told our folks we were going to the library and we met about a block from Mrs. Weber's address. There were several cars parked out in front of her house and in her driveway. I don't know what we thought, but I do know we were scared. I rang the bell and then we waited, both of us nervous as hell!
Mrs. Weber greeted us and escorted us into the kitchen. We could see four or five men sitting in the living room smoking and drinking, but even this gave us no inkling of the events to follow. When we were behind the closed kitchen door, we sat down at the table and Mrs. Weber opened two cokes for us. Then she sat down across from us.
"Now, I know you two girls are about the sexiest young things in town, and I could have you put away for a long time, you understand?" We both nodded fearfully.
"Did you see those men in the living room?" she asked, and we nodded. "Well, those are old friends of mine who like unusual things...."
"What kind of things, Mrs. Weber?" I asked.
"I think I know," Candy interrupted. "They like young girls, don't they, Mrs. Weber?"
"How perceptive of you, Candy, dear! Yes, that's right. Now I realize that both of you sweet young things are probably still virgins. Well, you don't have to worry about being hurt, because these men will be perfectly satisfied just to play around with you and, of course, to have you play around with them. Understand?"
I wasn't sure I really understood, but Candy did, so I went along with her and said yes. Mrs. Weber told us that not only would we be staying out of reform school, but we would also be getting money from her for, as she put it, "playing around".
She escorted us into the room where the men sat and introduced us to them, but not them to us. There were four of them, and none of them looked familiar, at least not to me.
She led me over to one fat red-faced man and told me to sit on his knee. She took Candy's hand and placed it in the hand of a man who must have been seventy years old.
"Now these two gentlemen and I are going upstairs for a few minutes, which will give you four people a chance to really get acquainted," she said, taking the arms of the other two men and leaving the room.
The man whose knee I was sitting on looked like he was about sixty years old and he just looked rich. He asked me how old I was and I told him. Then he told me to just call him Gramps. I said okay and I told him my name.
"Now how about a kiss for Gramps?" he asked.
I reached over and kissed his cheek like I would my own grandfather, but he would have none of this type of kiss. He took my head and pressed his lips to mine. I could taste the stale tobacco and liquor on his breath, but I kept remembering the reform school and the money we were going to get, so I kissed him back.
Soon his gnarled hand was rubbing my legs while his other hand was playing with his bulge. I knew what he wanted so I reached down and pushed his hand away from the front of his pants and I started to squeeze the bulge with my small hand.
"Spread your legs apart a little, will you, Stella?" he asked me.
When I did, his hand crept up my leg and he was soon playing with the elastic of my panties. While he played, he exerted some pressure on my crotch and soon my pussy was lubricating the material of the panties.
I began to get hot and bothered, so I unzipped his pants and reached in to play with his bare cock. He may have been old, but his prick sure wasn't! I pulled it out and looked at it. Measuring about four inches, which I thought was big then, he was hard as a rock. He took my hand and showed me how to frig him, and then his finger crept under the elastic of my panties and started to enter the lips of my creaming pussy. Slowly he edged it in farther and farther until he was all the way in.
He looked at me surprised, but I told him that I had busted my cherry with my own finger about a week ago. I didn't want to tell him about our dog, Butch. The finger-bit was bad enough. I guess 12-year-old girls aren't supposed to be able to come like older girls, but I can tell you, that's a lot of bullshit! I came at least five times while he was finger-fucking me and I'd probably still be coming if he hadn't blown his wad into my hand and practically collapsed afterward.
I tried to keep hold of his dong after he shot, but the damn thing shrunk right up into his fat belly. When I looked down at it, all I could see was a shiny, come-smeared red knob with two wrinkled balls hanging below. He was wheezing so badly I figured that I was too heavy to be sitting on his lap, so I got off and sat in one of the chairs across the room. Then I saw what was happening with Candy and the other old man.
The man was seated upright in a large lounge chair, his feet on the floor. Candy was lying backwards on his lap, with her pussy raised up to his face. Her mouth was covering his cock and she was sucking away on it like there was no tomorrow. Seeing the age of the old guy, maybe there wasn't a tomorrow for him. His two hands were holding Candy's cunt lips apart while his old but practiced tongue slid in and out of her crevice.
I could see she was enjoying every minute of what she was doing. Pretty soon the old boy's head rolled back and he closed his eyes and snorted "enough".
Candy pulled her lips off of his prick, which was about as limber as cooked spaghetti, and she climbed down off his lap.
Thereafter, we became regular visitors to Mrs. Weber's place until we were lucky enough to be late one day and saw a police car and ambulance in front of the house. It came out in the paper the next day that some 72-year-old man had died of a heart-attack in her living room. I guess Mrs. Weber got scared, because she took off with all her clothing and hasn't been heard from since, that we know of.
Both Candy and I miss the action. We enjoyed the sex a lot and we were able to afford to buy a little pot with the money we got for having a ball.
We finally did get our honeypots invaded by some stiff cocks, but I'm going to let Candy tell you about that.
Oh, Mr. Norman, how many times did you come in your pants while you were reading this?
CHAPTER FIVE
MY DOWNFALL
Stella's theme was so graphic and described so many almost unbelievable relationships that I hadn't taken my eyes off the paper until I was finished reading it. If all this was true, how fantastic? And even if the things she had written were all figments of her imagination, what a gold mine she would be to some publisher of pornography? The final sentence in her manuscript caused me to blush and look down at my crotch. I wasn't the only one looking?
My robe had fallen open during the intensity of reading Stella's theme, and now my penis was standing straight up in the air. The tip of it was wet where I had creamed during the reading, and there was now a small drop oozing out from the small hole in the knob.
I made a grab for the robe to cover myself, but I had been anticipated by Candy.
"If you cover it up, so help me, we'll both scream loud and longr"
I stopped cold and looked at the two girls. Both of their pairs of eyes were glued to the sight of my erect cock, and lust, pure unadulterated lust, was written on their young faces. They had teased and played before, but I had only to look at the expressions on their faces to realize they were not playing NOWT
"Can I cover up now?" I asked them beseechingly. "You've had your kicks for the day, haven't you?"
"Like hell we have!" Candy said. "We'll tell you when to cover up ... and I mean it, Mr. Norman, we'll raise all kinds of hell if you don't do exactly what we tell you. Besides, you wouldn't want to miss out on a good thing, would you? Look at Stella!"
Stella appeared to be hypnotized by the sight of my upraised organ. She sat almost immobile except for her hands, which were between her legs rubbing her covered pussy and her tongue which kept licking her lips. Candy stood and removed her blouse, her lovely immature tits standing at attention.
Suddenly I too was hypnotized. She was little more than a child, but she had a most desirable body and she knew how to make men want what she had. She cupped her small boobs in her hands and then rubbed her hands around them, pinching the nipples in between her fingers. Her shoulders were thrown back and her eyes were half-closed. She was rubbing her legs together as she stood in front of me, and I completely forgot Stella was even in the room.
I don't know if I made a noise when I stood up or not, but I do know I rushed to Candy, pushed her back onto the bed and fell on top of her.
I glued my mouth to hers and soon felt her lance-like tongue push itself into my mouth and search for my tongue. My hands cupped her child-like breasts and my hips ground into her pelvis. Her hands pushed my robe down over my shoulders and then she struggled to get it off of me.
"Get up a second," she murmured, taking her lips away from mine. "We've gotta get this robe off, and anyway you're too heavy on top. Pull my panties off, will you?"
My arms came out of the robe and it fell to the floor. I hooked my thumbs in the elastic of her panties and started to draw them down over her hips. As I slid further down her body while removing her panties, my mouth was busy kissing and licking that delightfully young and tender skin. When the panties were over her knees, she raised her legs and bent her knees so that I could get them off easier. Her knees then fell open and I was treated to my first close-up view of that pussy that had been driving me out of my skull ever since I had come to teach at Fountainville Junior High.
It was shaded only by a light covering of reddish-blonde, curly hair which at her age only covered her pleasure-mound. It had not been growing long enough to have spread far beyond the pussy it was supposed to protect. Although only fresh into her teen years, there was a definite womanly odor about her box. It stared back at me as I leaned my hands on the edge of the bed and gazed at the fiery red slit with the tiny clitoris visible at the lower edge. It was more than I could bear, and I plunged my head between her legs and began to grunt and groan as I ate her pussy.
Her young legs were over my shoulders and she pressed her calves to the back of my neck, urging me inward and upward. Her hips moved to meet the thrust of my eager tongue as I whipped it in and out of her snatch.
"Eat it up, Teacher, eat it up!" she was saying while her hands pushed my head deeper in between her legs. "Scarf me good, suck it dry! Oh, Teacher, you've got an educated tongue! Teach my pussy some sucking lessons ... oohhh ... that's so gooodl"
Hands were suddenly grasping my legs and I soon felt my organ sliding into a warm, wet mouth, the teeth gently nibbling on it as it slid in. Out of my head with passion and lust, I began to move my hips, helping that mouth below me to savor the joy of the moment.
When Candy had started to utter the obscenities while I was chewing on her, it must have snapped Stella out of her hypnotic trance. She had watched the scene for a moment and then, throwing off her clothes, she had slid down to the floor below my throbbing prick and started to give this English teacher some juicy French lessons?
My tongue had brought forth two emissions from Candy, but she still kept the grip on my neck and head, urging me on to greater heights. Finally I felt her body tense, her hips move faster, and her fingers twist frantically in my hair. I knew she was coming to her third climax.
At the same time I felt the pressure within me ready to burst as a result of the expert oral action of the very busy Stella. She must have sensed it too, because she began massaging my hanging balls with one hand while she pressed a finger of the other hand about an inch into my anus. When my orgasm exploded into her mouth, she rammed the finger the rest of the way in, causing me to shoot an extra portion of that love-juice down her waiting throat.
I raised up from my position between Candy's legs and looked down at the small, bobbing head of Stella, who was still trying to suck more juice from my exhausted organ. Candy must have seen the action too, because she used her foot to push Stella away from my tool. I almost climaxed again as the sexy, slurping sound of my cock leaving her mouth came to my ears.
"For God's sake, Stella, that's enough! I want to get some of that prick-milk into my cunt later on! Don't drain him dry!"
Stella fell back on the floor. I climbed up on the bed and collapsed beside Candy, who took one of my hands and placed it over her down-covered pussy. She held it there until one of my fingers began to toy with her clit, then she turned her head and darted her tongue into my ear playfully while she put one hand around my now-limp cock.
My age as well as my trepidation at being with two 13-year-olds would not permit life to return to my organ. It just wobbled lifelessly in Candy's hand.
"Oh, you're no good to me in this condition," she said disgustedly. "Why don't you rest a minute and then read my theme? Maybe that will bring some starch back into your cock. Okay?"
I nodded and just lay there out of breath, out of ambition, and out of starch! I continued to move my finger around Candy's slit, toying with her clitoris, but it was all the strength I had. Perhaps I dozed for a moment, but when I became aware of my surroundings, I found that Candy had pushed my finger all the way into her vagina and was trying to ride my hand, her legs clamped tightly around my lower arm and wrist.
Stella had now revived and she was bending over my face attempting to insert one of her breasts into my mouth, the lustful look still on her face.
I pulled my hand away from Candy's crotch and pushed Stella back on the bed as I rose and walked to the chair across the room. Without bothering to pick up my robe, I fell into the chair and held my head in my hands, remorse for what I had participated in hitting me like a ton of bricks.
I felt no better than an ordinary child molester or a pervert. I had allowed my passions to rise to the point where I threw all good sense and decency to the winds-and with it, possibly my career and maybe even my freedom.
"Don't feel bad, Mr. Norman, we made you do it," Stella said. "Admit it, though, it was a ball, wasn't it?"
Why this struck me funny, I don't know, but suddenly it simply didn't matter any more. What the hell was I complaining about? Here I was in my room naked with two beautiful and sexy children, who lavished; their bodies on me as though I was one of their teen-age recording stars. Men have died for less ... and here I was feeling remorse. To hell with everything?
"Yeah, it was a ball ... and do you know what?" I asked. "As soon as this handle of mine gets stiff again, I'm going to ball you both!"
"Promises, promises," Candy laughed. "I don't think that dick of yours is ever going to get hard again, dammit! Shit, Stella, why did you have to suck him dry like that?"
"Don't put me down, Candy girl," Stella retorted. "If you hadn't got so damn horny and made him tongue-fuck your gash, maybe we both might have gotten some of that hard cock. You're as much to blame as I am!"
"Hey, you two," I interrupted. "Don't fight about it! It really was my fault. If I hadn't gotten so hot and bothered reading Stella's theme, maybe I wouldn't have gotten a hard-on and...."
"Why don't you read MY theme now?" Candy interjected. "If hers got you horny, mine will blow your cool for real?"
She handed me a stack of typewritten pages and I settled back to read. The first sentence caused me to look up at Candy and shake my head, smiling. This whole affair was part of a well-contrived plan!
CHAPTER SIX
CANDY'S THEME
This was Candy's theme:
If you haven't read Stella's paper yet, stop right here and read hers first, or this one won't make any sense to you. If you have gone through Stella's theme, we three should just about be finished with the first round of a good old-fashioned sex orgy. Am I right?
Stella and I collaborated on these two essays on our sexual experiences, because we two have had most of our experiences together. For the past couple of weeks we have done our best to get you as hot and horny as we could. We could tell by the bulge in your pants that you were getting pretty randy during class.
You see, we knew about this Sex Education project at least two months ago! A good friend of ours who is a student working in the office, overheard Mr. Baxter and some of the board members talking about it. Most of the kids knew it was coming, but Stella and I decided to have a few kicks along with the class. We sure were glad when our new teacher turned out to be a man instead of some dried-up old woman!
Of course, we probably would have preferred some good-looking guy about twenty-five with broad shoulders, no hips and tight pants that would show off the size of his prong. We're not complaining though, because we both think you're kinda cute, even if you are old enough to be our grandfather almost.
Anyway, a good-looking young guy probably wouldn't get his rocks off with a couple of 13-year-olds, but a fellow your age would be duck soup for us. Okay then, here is the rest of the story:
After Mrs. Weber ducked out, Stella and I had no more kicks and no more easy money to count on. We started hanging around the park again, hoping one of the old men we had serviced at Mrs. Webers would wander through, but none of them ever did. It finally got down to where we were starting to play with each other just to get our rocks off.
Technically we were both still virgins although our cherries had been busted long ago by our fingers and the wrinkled fingers of the old men who were Mrs. Weber's clients. We knew there must be something really good waiting for us because we had heard some of the older kids talk about "balling" while they were sneaking a smoke in the girls' restroom.
The boys our age couldn't be trusted. Everyone we knew was a blow-hard, and if we put out for them, we knew it would be all over school in nothing flat. We didn't care about the kids but we were afraid it would eventually get back to our folks, who most likely would put us away in some boarding school or even jail.
The older boys just wouldn't give us the time of day. Before you came, Mr. Norman, we were starting to give the men teachers the eye, but I think they're being taken care of by the female teachers and some of the older girls in their classes who are out for easy grades.
One afternoon we were fooling around the playground when we saw two boys about ten years old sneak up to the window of the girls' restroom and try to peek inside. They were giggling and laughing about it when they came around the corner of the building and ran into us, both standing there with our hands on our hips waiting for them.
We each grabbed one of the boys and dragged them over to a park bench where we sat them down.
"You kids are in a lot of trouble," we told them seriously.
"Why? We didn't do anything," one of them protested.
"Oh, yes, you did!" we countered. "We saw you looking at the girls in the bathroom."
"We didn't see nothin', though, 'cause there ain't no girls in there to look at!"
"Why were you trying to see the girls?" I asked.
Both boys were quiet and just looked down at their feet.
"Haven't you ever seen a girl?" I continued.
"I have," one boy volunteered. "I gotta older sister. He ain't never seen one though." He nodded toward his companion. "I was just going to show him what I knew a girl has."
"You ain't goin' to turn us in to the park cop, are you?" the other boy finally found his voice.
"Well, that depends," I answered, giving Stella a wink.
"Depends on what?" the first boy asked, scared stiff.
"How much money do you have on you?" Stella asked, trying to be stern.
"I gotta dime and he ain't got no money," the first boy spoke up.
"Is your mother home now?" I asked just as sternly.
"Both of them nodded yes.
"Okay," I said, "we will walk home with you and wait outside while each one of you steals a dollar from his mother's purse."
"Aw, we can't do that!" they protested.
"It's either that or the park fuzz. Now which will it be?"
"She's got us by the balls, Harry," the first boy said. "We'd better get them their dollars."
"Okay, Harry Balls," I laughed, "let's get going! After you get us the bread, we only have one other small thing for you to do."
"Oh, no!" Harry said. "Who do we have to kill?"
"Oh, it's a lot easier than that," Stella told them. "As a matter-of-fact, you'll probably like what we have in mind."
"I doubt it," the other boy said. "What is it?"
"We just want you to fuck us, that's all!" I said sexily.
The two boys looked at each other and slowly smiles crossed their faces. They looked at us and then back at each other for a second.
"Come on, Harry," the other boy shouted, starting to run. "We got some stealing to do!"
We followed them and waited on the corner while they both went into this big apartment house. I guess they lived in nearby apartments in the same building. Pretty soon they both came out running like hell, each one waving a dollar bill.
"Here's your money!" Harry said breathlessly. "Now where do we go to...."
"To fuck?" Stella interrupted. "Just follow us!"
We led them to an old junkyard about a mile away, where Stella and I used to go when we wanted to smoke pot. There were completely stripped car bodies in one corner of the yard, and we had shifted some car seats to one station wagon carcass to make a pretty comfortable pad.
We cautioned the boys to be quiet and we sneaked under the fence near where the station wagon was located. We climbed in the back of the car and pulled down the makeshift window curtains we had made months ago.
"Now what do we do?" Harry asked as the two boys sat there staring at us.
"Well, the first thing is to take off all our clothes," I told them. "Like this!" And I started to unbutton my blouse. When I had it off, I turned my back to Harry and told him to unsnap my bra. His hands were sweaty and fumbling but he finally managed to get the bra loose. I held out my arms toward him.
"Go ahead, pull it off me," I whispered.
He gingerly reached for the straps on both shoulders and then slowly pulled the bra away from me. When my two tits popped out at him, I thought his eyes were going to explode.
"Jeez ... jeez ... jeez....!" was all he could muster to say.
"Want to touch them? Go ahead!" I said.
He inched forward and cupped them in both hands, feeling the nipples with his fingers, his eyes still bugging out. I took the opportunity to unsnap his jeans and I reached inside of them for his little pecker. It was there and it was hard as steel!
I frigged him for a second and then told him to get the rest of his things off in a hurry. While I was undressing, I looked over at Stella and the other boy. Stella hadn't wasted time talking, I guess, because the two of them were stark naked and she was just putting his small, stiff cock into her hole.
I watched them as the boy gave a lunge and then sunk the full length of his prick into her waiting, juicy pussy. She humped up as he pushed down, and the car seats squeaked under the bouncing weight of the pair.
Harry cut short my observation of the other two with some ideas of his own. He tried to kiss me, but he knew little or nothing about the art. I took his head in my hands and I showed him the proper way to kiss, darting my stiff tongue into his mouth. He caught on quickly and was soon soul-kissing me while fondling my titties.
I put my arms around him and dragged him down to a lying position and ground my naked middle against him. I could feel his stiff rod rub against my pubic hair, and very quickly I was ready for him to accomplish what I had in mind.
I twisted over onto my back and raised my knees. Harry rose over me and looked down at me, scared but hot. I took hold of his peter and put it at the entrance to my pussy and then very slowly, I raised my hips. He got the idea right away and slowly pushed downward. His cock spread the lips of my vagina and slid smoothly into it, making my blood nearly boil in my veins.
When his pretty little tool was buried to the hilt in me, we let it rest for a few seconds before starting to withdraw it. The taking-out motion felt as good as th eputting-in! I urged him on to start pumping while I matched his push with a push of my own. We very quickly got into the rhythm of the fuck and soon my ass was bouncing on the worn-out car seat like a golf ball.
The episode was fun for both Stella and me, but we felt sort of cheated because we had seen full-grown cocks and both of us still wanted to feel a grown-up prick in our cunts.
As you know, Stella's father is a salesman, but what you probably don't know is that he works for a drug company which sells birth-control pills to doctors.
Stella got ten bottles of the pills out of his sample bag one day and we substituted some candy pills that we bought in a novelty shop. We've often wondered how many chicks got pregnant, thinking they had fixed themrelves up safely for some good screwing!
Both Stella and I have been taking the pills regularly, hoping that the chance of a real man-size dick would come along. And when you got your hard-on in class, Mr. Norman, we knew we had it made!
Now you know neither of us is a virgin and you know it is safe to fuck us. You also know it is not safe to refuse to put your meat into us, because we'll scream bloody murder. You really don't have a choice, do you, Mr. Norman? So why don't you just close your eyes, lie back on the bed, and let nature take its course?
The only choice we'll give you is your choice of which one of us you want to fuck first. All you have to do when you are finished reading this, is lie back and close your eyes and then say one of our names out loud-just as if you were calling on us to read the theme aloud in class.
That's right, Mr. Norman! We've made carbon copies of both themes!
I put the papers down on the table next to me and looked at the two girls. They both patted the bed as an invitation to lie down. Even if I had wanted to, I had no chance to refuse. But by that time, I really didn't want to refuse. I was hooked!
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE MINI-NYMPHS
I rose from the chair and walked over to the bed. They made room for me and I stretched out, my stiff penis rising in the air, curving only slightly. I closed my eyes as Candy had instructed me to, and then I spoke.
"I'm not going to make a choice, because you've got me so damn hot and bothered now, I only wish I had two pricks to fuck you both at the same time! There are some coins on the dresser," I told them, "take one and flip for the first screw. I'm going to stay on the bottom though, so we can regulate the insertion. Besides, I'm probably too heavy for either one of you. Now go ahead and flip the coin."
I heard them as they chose heads or tails and then the coin was flipped. Stella won the toss.
She turned to me with that lustful look on her young face and I knew this would be one night I would never forget as long as I lived. She climbed onto the bed and straddled me below the knees. She playfully bounced my stiff rod around, watching it spring back. Then she rose on her knees and waddled over my body until her young steaming cunt was positioned directly above my penis she held in her hand.
She lowered herself to the throbbing lance and rubbed it back and forth along the lips of her pussy, lubricating it. Still holding onto the cock, she leaned her head forward and pressed her lips to mine. Our mouths opened and the instant our tongues pushed into each other's mouths, she lunged forward with her hips, impaling herself deeply on the spear beneath her lithe body. She bit my tongue as the pain of the insertion hit her, but the simultaneous pain of her tight cunt around my bulbous prick caused me enough discomfort in that area, so that I didn't notice the bite until I tasted the blood.
She pulled her face away from me and rested her body on her hands which were clutching the bedclothes beneath us. Her head hung down and her cascading hair fell over my face. Slowly she lifted her head and looked into my eyes. The lust was still there and it could be discerned through the misty tears that had flooded her orbs at the moment of impaling.
A leer appeared where a child's smile should have been, and she cupped her small breasts in her hands and bent down, pushing one of them into my mouth. When my tongue began to caress the nipple and my two hands stroked her buttocks, she began to move her hips ever so slightly.
Gradually the pain of the first impact gave way to joyous delight as my male organ tickled her clitoris in the movement. She raised her hips higher and brought them down again, deepening the thrust. Soon she was performing the classic motion and we were deeply involved in a good old-fashioned screwing session.
When she climaxed the first time, she repeated the sitting up straight maneuver and then rested for a second. Suddenly I saw Candy's head above me. She pushed her lips to mine for a moment and then pulled away. Her mouth went to Stella's and her arms fastened themselves around her friend who was impaled on my cock. It only took a few seconds for Candy to swing her hips around until her knees were settled next to my ears and her crotch was lowering itself down to cover my lips.
I think at that moment I could have died and have been happy in hell because I was experiencing pure heaven on earth ... more heaven than any one man deserved in ten lifetimes! To have my stiff cock rammed deeply inside one luscious child-woman while my tongue was tasting the delights of an equally luscious 13-year-old brought me to the heights of passion and joy.
I couldn't hold the floodgates closed any longer. My body stiffened and my tongue went wild inside the love-lips of Candy as I shot my load in tremendous spurts into the body of Stella. Beautiful, passionate, lustful Stella ... and her equally beautiful, passionate and lustful partner, Candy!
At that precise moment I cared not if the world ended or I spent the rest of my miserable life in prison-or if I never moved again. This was worth any price I would have to pay, I felt.
There was only a semblance of rigidity left to my prick, but Stella kept on with her motions until she was able to explode for a third or fourth time. I had lost count.
Candy meanwhile, had shifted her pelvis away from my mouth, but kept it positioned just above my head. I took one of my hands away from Stella and put a finger in the vagina that was above my line of vision. Candy squirmed on my finger and I heard her utter a moaning sound as I dipped deeply within her. I then withdrew my finger and put it to Stella's lips and she took it in her mouth and licked it dry.
I then put my thumb in Candy's slit and eased my forefinger of the same hand into her anus. I moved the two digits together until my hand was drenched with her love-juice. Both girls then collapsed on the bed next to me and the three of us passed out.
I have no idea when it happened or how long it had been going on, but when I came to, I found both girls had reversed themselves and now Candy was impaled on my once-again stiff, throbbing penis, while Stella was nuzzling her pussy, still drenched with the results of my climax, over my face.
If someone had told me two hours earlier that I would have delighted in eating my own emission as it dripped from the crotch of a 13-year-old Lolita, I would have told him he was nuts. Perhaps I was the mental case, because I not only ate it, but I probed deeper for more, whether it was mine or the girl's.
The magnificent feeling in my loins as Candy bounced up and down on my lance was getting to be almost more than I could bear. Her-vagina seemed larger than Stella's, but it simply could have been more pliable. I didn't know and I didn't much care.
When the sound of a third voice in the room came to me, I was too engrossed in what was happening to me to pay much attention. It was only when both girls gushed their juices into my mouth and drenched my genitals, that I finally felt the climax pouring forth from my tired and slightly sore prick.
"Now that's what I really call 'babysitting!" Claire Jackman said as she stood leaning against the door gazing down at our naked trio on the bed. "For God's sake, Bruce, couldn't you wait till I got here before you started robbing the cradle?"
"Claire!" I almost shouted. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough to have seen some pretty torrid action for an old man like you," she answered firmly. "But how could you seduce two innocent young girls like these? My God, they're only children!"
Both of my bed partners were apparently unaware of the seriousness of the moment, because they were relaxed, heads on the pillow, and smiling. Candy spoke up before I had a chance to.
"Don't get up tight, Miss Jackman," she told her. "It really wasn't his fault. He didn't seduce us ... we seduced HIM!" They both bent over with laughter.
"Why, you little bitches!" Claire was getting angry now. "I ought to take you across my knee, both of you. You're just little teen-age whores!" she spat.
"Don't give us that 'whore' crap, Miss Hot Pants," Stella shot back at her. "Some of the best frigging we ever did was while we were watching you take on Eddie Fry and Johnny Logan in the back of the gym!"
I saw Claire grow pale when the girls gloated over their peeking.
"Sure," Candy put in, "we used to want to go in and join the party, but we were afraid you'd resent the competition. Boy, I'll say this for you though, Miss Jackman, you sure suck a mean cock!" Once again both girls doubled up with laughter.
"Bruce...." Claire looked beseechingly at me, "I can explain about the two boys."
"Why explain?" I shrugged. "Your friends don't care and your enemies won't believe you anyway. Why should you have to explain to me after what you just walked in on?" I continued.
"Sure, Miss Jackman," Stella said laughingly, "let's just say it was all a part of our education process. You know, like the theory of the earth's gravitational pull. What goes up, must come downf Well, Mr. Norman's tool went up when we showed him our pussies during first-period English-and we just had to help prove the theory by making it go back down after some good hard screwingr"
"Yeah," Candy chimed in, "you ought to try him, Miss Jackman, he's a lot better than those two boys you were fucking and sucking in the gym."
"I already know that, girls," Claire said, smiling now and more relaxed. "But Eddie and Johnny weren't really bad ... not bad at all. You ought to try them out yourselves."
"Aw, they won't even look at us because we're not fourteen yet?" Stella said. "They are real cute though, and from what we saw of their cocks from where we were hiding, they're hung pretty good for just kids!"
"Tell you what," Claire interposed, getting into the spirit now. "Why don't we make it a sextette?"
"Where would we all get together?" I asked, interested.
"Well," she replied, "my kid sister has a date to go skiing this weekend so the house will be empty. Why don't we all meet at my house say ten o'clock Saturday morning?
That way we could have the entire day, and you girls wouldn't have to think up excuses to get out at night. I'll contact Eddie and Johnny. Okay?"
"Far out!" Candy exclaimed. "Hey!" she yelled at Stella. "Look at what time it is! We gotta split for home!"
The two girls dressed and left. Claire came over to the bed and sat down. She grabbed my limp dick and gave it a squeeze. Then she kissed me.
"You're worn out, Bruce, so I'll let you rest. But I'll expect you to be in fine fettle come Saturday."
She kissed me again, gave my organ one more squeeze, and closed the door behind her.
This weary teacher closed his eyes and spent the next eight hours dreaming of dripping muffs and darting tongues. When I went to the bathroom during the night, it's a good thing I didn't trip, or I would have pole-vaulted out the window!
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE ORGY
A late late movie on TV Friday night got me to bed unusually late, and when I awoke Saturday morning, it was already ten-thirty. I dialed Claire's number and when she answered, it was to a background of rock-and-roll music blaring from her stereo.
I explained why I had overslept, and she urged me to hurry on over as quickly as I had my coffee. I showered, shaved and gulped down two cups of good strong coffee and then departed for Claire's house.
I rang the bell and waited but there was no response. I could hear the blaring sounds coming from the phonograph, so I tried the door. It was unlocked and I entered the house. I'm not quite sure I've ever recovered from the shock of viewing the scene spread before me. No wonder they had not heard the doorbell!
The daisy-chain had Claire on her knees, legs spread over Stella's head. Stella's tongue was darting in and out of her vagina, and the look of absolute bliss on Claire's face was enough to tell the observer that Stella's ministrations were bringing on a climax. Stella meanwhile was lying on the floor turned in the opposite direction, and while she chewed on Claire's crotch, hers was being invaded by a pumping penis being pushed by Johnny Logan.
Johnny's balls in turn were being fondled and kissed by Candy, who's head was directly below his crotch. Johnny's hips and buttocks were being guided by Eddie Fry's hands, while Eddie's prick plunged in and out of Candy's vagina.
The sight was too much for me, and I pulled my clothes off in seconds and joined the chain, going to the front where Claire's waiting mouth instantly covered my outstretched cock where she knelt. I was the only one standing and perhaps that is why I was brought out of my blissful trance before the others, as a voice suddenly shouted from the front hallway.
"My God! It's a daisy-chain!"
I snapped my head around to see a lovely young girl dressed in ski togs, mouth open and eyes wide. She was accompanied by a young man in his twenties who was also dressed for skiing. The young man was clutching at the bulge in his pants as he watched the scene on the floor.
I released Claire's head and pulled my prick out of her mouth, stumbling backward and falling. This woke Claire up and she suddenly saw the two people who had just entered the room. She screamed and pulled herself away from Stella's tongue, scrambled to her feet and raced up the stairs.
A door slammed, and then I turned my attention back to the four teen-agers on the floor. The interruption had meant nothing to them. Stella's hips kept in rhythm to Johnny's, and she now had her arms around his neck, substituting his mouth for the slit where her tongue had just been.
Eddie and Candy both looked up at the new arrivals, then returned to finish what they were doing, Candy's face still being brushed by the swinging balls of Johnny as he slid in and out of Stella's sheath.
No one appeared to notice me, so I crept stealthily over to where my clothes lay in a heap and started to pull my shorts on. I stopped half-way in the dressing-process as I saw the two newcomers begin to tear their heavy clothing from their bodies.
My eyes were riveted on the beautiful girl whom I assumed was Tina, Claire's younger sister. When she was stripped, I looked on one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen. She was a living doll! Her hair was dark brown and hung below her shoulders, framing a face any artist would deem worthy of his talents and canvas. Her jutting breasts were large, but did not sag from being heavy.
They pointed up at the young man who was divesting himself of his clothing as quickly as he could. Her slender waistline gently flared to curving hips which now were gyrating against her hands which she had plunged down between her legs, rubbing up and down between the lips of her moss-covered vagina. Her legs were long and she had spread them just enough to allow her hand to frig herself while her escort undressed.
When he was naked, they came together as though magnetized, and their hips began pounding together. Their heads were locked in a soul-kiss and I could see the tongues whipping in and out of their mouths as they slowly slid to the floor. Tina assumed the classic position and grabbed for the young man's penis, placing it within the lips of her pussy.
They both lunged at the same time, and Tina stifled a scream as the boy's shaft went full-length into her quim. Soon his balls were slapping against her buttocks and their moans were mingled with the sounds which came from the other two couples busy on the carpeted floor.
I crept to the stairway and slowly ascended. There was only one door closed, and I assumed it was Claire's. I knocked, but there was no reply. I turned the knob and entered. Claire was lying on the bed, sobbing into her hands. I sat on the bed beside her and touched her hair.
"Oh, Bruce, I'm so ashamed!" she cried. "I was like an animal, and I had to let Tina see me like that!"
"I don't think Tina will suffer from what she saw," I tried to soothe her.
"My God, Bruce, how can you say that? I've raised that child to be a GOOD girl! I don't even swear when she's around. She's a young lady, and what she walked into here today will certainly be a traumatic experience for her. How can I ever make it up to her?" She started to cry again.
I raised her up to a sitting position and wiped away the tears.
"Come on," I said, pulling her up to a standing position. "I want to show you something."
I led her out of the room and half-way down the stairs, where we had a clear view into the living room. I heard a gasp from Claire's lips, and we both stood hypnotized by the scene we were viewing.
Tina had now assumed the dog-style position on her knees while her young man was plunging his long rod deep within her sheath from the rear. Her arms were around the hips of Eddie, whose hands clutched her head and aided her in keeping balance while she avidly sucked on his well-soaked organ."
Candy meanwhile had gotten behind Tina's partner and was darting her tongue in and out of his anus, while he pumped his load into Claire's sister. Stella and Johnny were resting from their session and were just watching the other four.
Claire and I entered the room and sat on the couch, enthralled by the multitudinous activity going on in front of us. It took only moments for everyone to climax and then fall their separate ways onto the floor, Tina rolling over to within two feet of where Claire and I sat. She looked up at her sister with half-closed eyes and spoke, slowly but deliberately.
"And I thought you were a dried-up old maid school-teacher who was trying her best to make one out of me too! Shit, Claire baby, you're a real cool swinger!"
She looked over at me and put her hands between her legs, tickling her exposed clit. "Who's your well hung suck-mate, Claire? Introduce me! I think I'd like to get a little of that meat I saw you chewing on when Walter and I came into the room!"
Later we sat around the living room drinking cola and smoking pot. Everyone was introduced, and Claire's fear that Tina would be shocked at seeing teen-agers taking part in the orgy was soon dismissed when Tina explained that she had lost her cherry when she was twelve-and to Claire's favorite uncle, her dad's brother!
"My God," Claire laughed, "and I thought he was hanging around the house to get a crack at. Mom while Dad was away on business!"
The two girls explained to the rest of us that their parents were killed shortly after Tina was thirteen. Their mother had accompanied their father on a business trip about a hundred miles away, and a head-on crash had snuffed out their lives. Claire, who was twenty-four at the time, continued her studies and worked, supporting her younger sister and sending her through school.
"No wonder Uncle Jack was so willing to help with expenses," Claire recalled. "He was getting his nookie pretty cheap at that!"
"Yeah," Tina laughed, "Aunt Margaret was starting to get suspicious and she made him stop coming over to the house. You know what? She never suspected he was fucking me! She told him she knew he was getting into YOUR pants!" Tina rocked with laughter as she told Claire.
Tina had explained that Walter and she had cancelled their skiing trip when the weather report on their car-radio warned that a new storm was expected in the mountains, and they would have been in danger of being snowed in for a couple of days.
"If Walter and I could have spent those couple of days in bed, it would have been fine," Tina said. "But the kids we were going with are all squares and I probably would have been shacked up with some four-eyed girl bookworm who would have bored me to death.
"When we walked in on your orgy, we were going to change clothes and then go to a motel for the rest of the weekend. I was sure you would be out to the library or shopping or something. I sure didn't expect a party like this to be going on!"
"Speaking of parties," Johnny spoke up, "aren't we wasting a lot of time shooting the shit when we could be shooting the snatch?"
"Hey!" piped up Stella. "I got an idea! Let's make a real game, you know, just like a regular party!"
"Okay," agreed Claire. "Got any ideas?"
"Get me some newspapers and a stapler and some string," Stella directed.
Claire fetched the materials and we became engrossed in watching the kids staple the papers together to form a curtain, and then hang the newspaper-curtain over the string which was stretched across the room.
"Only three couples can play this at a time, so we'll flip to see which couple acts as referee."
Claire and I lost the toss and we listened to the instructions for the game which they all seemed to be familiar with.
Holes were punched in the paper at the right spots, and the girls had to leave the room. Each boy then stood behind the curtain and put his cock through the hole. No girl could even see the boys' feet, so there was no possibility of recognizing him except by his prick. Any girl who guessed all three boys correctly, got to be serviced by all three boys at the same time. If a girl guessed two, she was serviced by two boys, and so on. If a girl guessed wrong on all three boys, she had to service each of the girls in a different way all by herself.
The boys all took their places behind the paper-screen and pretty soon Claire and I saw three limp cocks sticking out of the holes in the newspapers. It was then that we first noticed one of the rods had not been circumcised. We had seen Johnny's and Eddie's pricks and both of the boys had been cut. This staff, we knew, must belong to Walter, Tina's young man. In a way it didn't seem fair.
Stella was the first to come out. She caressed each dong as it hung out of the hole, and soon all three dicks were beginning to get stiff. She lingered over Walter's pushing the skin back until the fiery red knob appeared. That one she guessed right. She missed the other two, however, so she had to wait with us to see how the other girls made out.
Candy also picked Walter's cock out of the trio, but she too did not recognize the prick which had just been in her mouth, and she missed the guessing game.
Tina then approached the outstretched pricks and looked and felt them over. She too skinned back the head of Walter's dong, and then she came up with the winning statement.
"That one is Walter," she said, pointing to the covered knob of his dick. "This long one with the big head belongs to Eddie, and that nice sausage-shaped one with the drop of come on it is Johnny's!"
She then lay down on the floor, bent her knees and let them fall apart, ready to collect her winnings. The three boys went into a huddle and soon emerged, smiling.
"Come on, chick, stand up for your reward," Johnny told her, helping her to her feet.
"Now close your eyes," Walter commanded.
As she stood expectantly awaiting the action, Eddie placed a stack of telephone books on the floor in front of her, slightly to her right. Walter got up on the books and pulled her head sideways so that her mouth would touch his waiting organ. As quickly as she felt it with her lips, Tina opened her mouth to envelop it.
Johnny meanwhile had pushed her legs apart and situated his cock at the entrance to her pussy lips. He just allowed it to rub up and down, driving her out of her mind with lust while she nibbled away on Walter's foreskin.
Eddie approached her from the rear and spat on his finger, lubricating it before pushing it into her anus. He wiggled it around for a few seconds and then withdrew it, replacing it with the head of his penis. Walter sounded the starting signal.
"Get ready ... get set ... and GO!" He pushed his staff into Tina's throat and held her head as he started to mouth-fuck her. At the same instant, both Johnny and Eddie rocked forward and the standing girl was immediately impaled on three plunging dicks. Although she could not speak with the cock in her mouth, she uttered satisfied moans which seem to come from deep within her body.
The sight we were witnessing made Claire and I so randy that we fell into a 69 position on the floor, and were quickly devouring each other. A hand grasped mine while I was chewing on Claire's pubic hair, and I looked sideways for the owner.
It was Candy's hand. She and Stella were in exactly the same position as we were. Both of them were sucking and the slurping sounds made by the four of us mingled with the moans emitted by Tina and the boys.
One of the girls next to us suggested that we changed partners, and we rolled aside to allow the girls to assume their positions.
As my face made its downward move toward that waiting gash below me, I recognized it as Stella's. I would have known it was she anyway, by the tongue action and the sucking, pulling method only she knew how to execute on a man's prick.
It wasn't long until the room was filled with worn-out bodies, each attached to a face that showed fatigue but satisfaction.
We slept until a nearby factory whistle awakened us. It was five p.m.
The teen-agers scurried into their clothes, kissed us goodbye and left. Walter also excused himself, saying he had to get home.
That left only one completely pooped, tired middle-aged teacher in the experienced hands of two beautiful and passionate sisters.
What a way to die!
CHAPTER NINE
TINA'S STORY
Claire suggested that we all bathe before we would have supper and go to bed. Tina and I agreed. The orgy of the afternoon had left us sweaty and limp from exhaustion.
The upstairs bath was an enclosed tub with shower. Tina filled the tub, added bath-oil, and then slid in under the suds, facing away from Claire, who was about to take a shower standing up at Tina's head.
I waited outside the tub and then Claire asked me to join them. As I entered the tub, Tina reached up and drew me to my knees by clutching my cock and balls in her soapy hands. She spread her legs and pulled me in between them. My penis only took seconds to become rigid after Tina massaged it with her soapy palm. She guided the stiff joint to her waiting crotch under the water, and then wrapped her long legs around my middle, giving a shove upward to join our two sex organs. God, it was good! She was tight as hell, even after having gone through an afternoon of screwing. She exerted a muscle-spasm which grabbed my dong until it hurt from the vise-like grip. Then she would relax her muscles and we would pump away at each other.
I looked up and saw Claire's legs in front of me, so I started kissing them, running my tongue over the wet calves and upward. She spread her legs when I reached her cunny and pushed my head against it. While my dong was being treated to the best exercise it had ever had, my tongue was keeping my gratitude in the family by performing the best oral job Claire had ever experienced.
I had to leave Claire, however, when I felt the storm within my balls rage toward climax. I exploded within Tina at the precise moment she shot her wad. Our bodies jerked and trembled at the impact and then we rested.
Claire stepped over us and out of the tub to dry herself. "If you think you've got the strength," she laughed, "go ahead and knock off another piece while I fix us something to eat besides cock and pussy! C'mon down to the kitchen when you're through."
Tina and I separated reluctantly and washed each other's bodies with the utmost care, particularly where sensuous feelings might be aroused. We stood in the tub and wrapped our arms around each other in a tight embrace, our mouths swallowing saliva and nearly swallowing tongues. Our pelvic bones ground against each other until I could feel my sex begin to come to life again. Tina felt it too, and clutching it in her hand, she stepped from the tub, forcing me to follow. I started to reach for a towel, but Tina stopped me.
"I want to dry you off," she said sexily ... my own way!"
With that she tossed her head forward and began drying my body with her lovely, long, wavy brown hair! When she got to my pelvic region, she brought her two huge breasts together and captured my prick and balls within the cleavage. I rubbed against her tits until I was sure I was going to climax again and then she pulled away, kissing my prick as she rose. I used a towel to dry her off. We kissed one more time and then walked downstairs to get some food.
It was only when we arrived at the table that we became aware that the three of us were still stark naked. We laughed about it and then sat down to eat. After supper, Tina helped clear the table and then excused herself and went upstairs to her room.
Claire and I finished doing the dishes and then we retired to the living room, where we watched TV nestled in each other's arms. It was a good feeling, relaxing this way, particularly after such an exciting day. We both must have dozed off, and when we awoke it was to the Star-Spangled Banner signing the station off the air.
I was ready to go home, when I discovered that my clothes were so terribly wrinkled from lying in a heap, that I would have been arrested as a vagrant if I'd have tried to wear them home like that. It was decided that I would sleep with Claire and then leave early in the morning, before any of the neighbors would see a man leaving the house.
When I hit the sack, I passed out. I couldn't even wait for Claire to finish her toilette and come to bed.
The smell of bacon frying and coffee brewing awoke me. I looked around and saw I was alone in bed. I rose and quietly walked down the steps to find some clothing to put on.
Claire met me at the foot of the stairs, smiling. The smile she wore was all she wore. She was still naked as a jaybird. She bent down, kissed my limp penis and then pushed her mouth against mine.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," she said. "Are you ready for breakfast?"
"I'm actually starved," I answered, and followed her into the kitchen. Tina was taking the coffee off of the stove and I did a double-take at her appearance. She was dressed in high-heeled shoes and a small dainty apron and nothing else! What those shoes did to enhance an already fabulous figure was amazing.
"You'd better get some food into you in a hurry," Tina laughed, "before that dong of yours finds out it's hungrier than you are!"
I looked down at my middle and, sure enough, even after the previous day's workout, the little bastard had the strength to stand up and wave good morning to them. I quickly sat down and looked at the delicious food instead of at the girls. In a few minutes, my organ relaxed and shrunk up into my belly.
After we ate, it became confession time for Tina. As we sat around the small breakfast table, Tina told us all about her early seduction by their uncle.
It had all started during the summer when their Uncle Jack used to come over with his wife to play bridge in the balmy evenings. Claire was usually in her room working on homework papers or studying, and Tina, being only twelve years old, was not permitted out of the house after supper. Tina's figure had begun to blossom a year earlier, and by the time she had reached her twelfth birthday, she showed promise of becoming a real sexpot.
Her breasts were larger than the average 16-year-old's, and she was already as tall as both her mother and her sister. When she walked down the street she received the accolades of the boys and men on the corners in the form of whistles and suggestive remarks.
Tina had read everything she could get her hands on regarding sex, men, and beauty hints. She had learned that by walking in a certain way she attracted the attention of any male, young or old, who happened to be around. She was very careful about the way she dressed, always choosing clothes which would make her appear at least three or four years older.
At school she delighted in provoking the young boys by wearing too-tight sweaters and skirts which were just a bit shorter than the style. Her skirts always tucked in under her blossoming buttocks and drove the boys wild as they watched her swing down the aisle at school.
She and another girl had played hooky one day with two boys who were only a year older. The day had been spent at the other girl's house, and a game of Spin The Bottle had turned into a strip-game. Tina had gotten her first glimpse of a male organ in the flesh, and was fascinated with the erection process.
The four kids played around, fingering, soul-kissing and frigging, but neither of the boys actually knew how to go about a full sex act. The girls pretended that they wouldn't "go all the way" anyway, but Tina spent many restless nights after the incident, playing with herself and wondering what it would be like to have a male organ invade her vagina.
She had just come in from the pool and was drying her hair when her mother called to her to "come in and say hello to Aunt Margaret and Uncle Jack." She kissed Aunt Margaret on the cheek and then went over to kiss her uncle. As she approached him, she recognized the light in his eyes as his gaze practically ripped her tiny bikini off her body. When she kissed his cheek, she purposely pushed her well-formed boobs against him and rubbed her thigh against his leg.
Uncle Jack was a good-looking man in his early forties, and suddenly Tina began to think about him romantically. She contrived to be around, wearing scanty clothing, whenever he came over to the house. Co-incidentally, Uncle Jack started coming over a lot more often, and most of the time without his wife.
One day when Claire and her parents had gone to a lecture downtown, Tina was surprised but delighted to see her uncle's car pull into the driveway. She decided to put the plan she had devised long since into action.
She stripped and turned the shower on. When Jack rang the bell, she called out the window for him to "come in and make yourself comfortable." She then took her shower and after drying off, wrapped the towel around her child-woman body. She opened her bedroom door and then screamed for help. In seconds Jack bounded into the room, a frightened look on his countenance.
Tina was writhing on the floor, and she tearfully told her uncle that she had twisted her ankle. Jack reached down and picked her up, carrying her to her bed. When he had laid her down, he turned his attention to her ankle. He rubbed it tenderly and then told her that he was sure it was neither broken nor sprained because there was no edema. Tina continued with her act. however, and said that it still hurt "awful", and she asked him to keep rubbing the spot.
As Jack handled her ankle, Tina lifted her other leg, giving him a clear view of her tight little pussy with just the hint of pubic fuzz darkening the surrounding area. She watched her uncle as his eyes remained glued to the sight under the towel, and she saw a bulge begin to appear in his lap.
She then delivered the coup de grace as she minced no words in asking: "Why is your thing getting hard, Uncle Jack? Is it because you're touching me ... or is it because you're looking where you'd LIKE to be touching me? Go ahead and touch if you want to, I won't ever say anything to anybody about it!"
Jack's hand left her ankle and began a course along her leg in an upward direction. As his hand wandered, his lips gently touched her leg and his tongue darted out to accent the kisses. When his fingers reached the apex of her being, she wiggled her hips a bit just to tease him. His finger was very gentle as he probed along the lips of her nearly bare vagina, and then she twisted the dagger of desire to a point of no return when she told him to "take those darned old pants off, Uncle Jack. They look so tight, I'm sure they must be hurting your thing ... all cramped up like that!" She reached for his belt-buckle and then his zipper.
By this time the man realized he had been led up the garden path and that he was the one who was being seduced. He didn't care, because he had gone to sleep almost nightly with an erection after seeing Tina in her bikini.
As he tore his clothes off and mounted his niece, Tina said he told her: "Incestual rhymes with celestial, and Goddammit, they both mean heaven!"
Tina said she had bled quite a bit when Jack had ruptured her hymen, and they had to make a fast bed-change when it was all over. They burned the sheet and the bed-pad in the incinerator and Jack gave her money to buy new ones and sneak them in the linen closet at a later date. He also gave her some extra spending money, and then they made a date to meet away from home.
For the next year and a half, it was two or three times a week that they met, until Auntie became suspicious that her husband was having an affair with Claire. Jack meanwhile had demonstrated to Tina every wrinkle in sexuality he knew, and, according to Tina, he knew plenty of them!
For instance, Tina explained to Claire and me, tit-screwing can be just as much of a thrill for the girl as it can be for the man.
"When you hold your boobs together and the guy slides his tool in between them, it's a real gas!" she said. "And it almost drives you out of your skull to watch, the head of his prick slide toward your chin and then disappear into the cleavage again. I got pretty good at it, though, and I was able to reach the tip of a few of the fellows I balled with my tongue."
"That I don't believe," Claire laughed. "Either you've got an awfully long tongue, or you were playing around with some well-hung studs!"
"Okay, smartie!" Tina rose from the table. "I'll prove it to you! Our favorite teacher here has just a normal-sized dick, so I'll demonstrate on him. You don't mind, do you, Bruce baby?"
"Mind?" I exclaimed, jumping up to face her, our genital areas grinding together.
"I'd love to!"
Tina pulled away from me and walked into the living room where she then proceeded to position herself on the floor. She instructed me to mount her so that my stiff prong was about even with the lower part of her tits. She told me to place it in between her boobs and when I did, she pressed them together.
"Now, go ahead and give it to them!" she groaned.
I began to pump my hips against the crevice, but it was dry as hell. Tina must have sensed that this was the difficulty, so she let go of her boobs, reached for my cock, bent her head forward and wrapped her lips around it. She soaked it with her saliva and then returned it to its position in the cleavage of her breasts. Now when I pumped, I had the feeling that I was actually working inside an extremely tight but delightful pussy.
Soon she moved the titties just a little bit and I found my tool sliding farther along the crack. In a few moments, I was jamming my stiff rod to within an inch of her face. She matched the movement of my hips with a darting movement of her tongue, and I went wild with the pleasure afforded me by her oral attention plus a mammary stimulation. It was the greatest!
Just before I shot my load, she released her boobs and plunged her mouth over my penis. She swallowed the entire load and then lay her head back on the floor, a triumphant smile on her face. We both looked at Claire.
"Holy cow, that was a masterpiece!" she said, her hands pressing against her slit. "But I've got an idea that might just alleviate some of my misery right now. Poor Bruce won't be able to do me any good. Move over, Bruce baby."
I got up off the floor and sat down on the couch to watch Claire and her sister,, Claire took my place on top of Tina and then instructed her sister to hold one of her tits steady. Claire then mounted the tit, pushing the nipple into her pussy and rubbing it back and forth until both she and Tina climaxed.
Later Claire pressed my suit and I dressed and went home, a very tired but very satisfied man!
CHAPTER TEN
ON CAMERA
I was seated at my desk at seven-thirty Monday morning as was my usual procedure, outlining the day's activities and assignments. The final bell was not due to ring until eight-fifteen, so I had forty-five minutes to complete my work unharried by students who never got to classes till the very last minute.
This day however, Ted Johnson, one of the brighter students in my English II class, came in lugging an armful of movie equipment.
"Mr. Norman," he asked, "would you spend five minutes to look over this film I made last week?"
"Why certainly, Ted," I replied. "I didn't know you were a moviephotographer."
"Oh, yes," Ted answered. "My dad and I have been taking movies and developing them for a long time. It's a hobby for my dad, but I'm hoping to make a vocation out of it some day."
"That's fine, Ted, and now what is the film about?" I inquired.
"Well, I thought you might be interested because it would help you in your Sex Ed classes. You see, our dog had puppies last week and we filmed the entire thing. It's real interesting, Mr. Norman!"
"It certainly sounds interesting, Ted. Let's see what you have."
The short movie was done excellently, with proper lighting and good close-up angle shots of all the natal action. I became very enthusiastic and congratulated Ted and his father for a fine job. Ted asked me if we could use the movie during today's class, as he wanted to have his father enter it in some photo contest the following day. I assured him I would be delighted.
When the class came to order, I announced that we were to have a special treat, and I went on to tell them about the movie we were to see. There were a few giggles and some dirty remarks whispered, but I dismissed them as average teen-age cynicism. Ted was to operate the projector, and the screen was placed in front of my desk. I walked to the back of the room to watch the film I had already seen, ready to comment on the canine biological action taking place in the movie.
Before the lights were turned out, I asked any of the students who did not want to see the film to leave the room and go to study-hall. I didn't want anyone to be unduly offended. I was surprised to see three of my "A" students, two girls and one boy, get up and leave. After having been involved with some of these teen-age kids, I smiled at the apparent naivete of these three. Had I known that they were not going to the study-hall but to the principal's office, maybe I wouldn't have been so jovial.
When the room was darkened, a few of the students got up and stood beside me. Then all the ones in the first row came back to stand, remarking that they could not see if they were sitting so close to the screen. Had I known that Candy and Stella had flanked me, I might have felt some trepidation. I relaxed, however, when the projector started its whirr-then suddenly my whole world crashed around me!
Strong arms held me from behind, belonging, I presume, to the boys who had occupied the seats in the front row. When I struggled, small soft hands grabbed my cock and balls through my trousers and held them in a vise-like grip. I ceased my struggling because of the excruciating pain as my balls were twisted by those tiny hands. Then my eyes focused on the screen and I received the shock of my life at what I saw.
The film was obviously made in someone's garage, when an attempt had been made to create a movie set out of it. Sheets and old draperies hung from the rafters to hide the unfinished walls of the garage. The set consisted of a battered old couch, an equally battered old chair, some end-tables and a large coffee-table. As the picture opened, the room was empty except for the furniture.
In a moment two boys entered from behind the draperies. They were each carrying a magazine which had a picture of a naked woman on the cover. The boys held the magazines in such a way that the camera caught the cover pictures. The boys, whom I recognized as two from the front row, probably the two who were then holding my arms, sat down on the couch and started to finger through the magazines.
In a moment, a lovely girl about sixteen or seventeen entered, wearing a scanty bikini. This girl I had never seen before, but there was a distinct family resemblance to one of the boys, Craig Tomkins. The girl walked behind the couch and looked over the boys' shoulders at the magazines they were examining.
"Why, brother dear, I'm surprised at you reading such nasty books!" the printed title read.
Craig looked at his sister and then tried to hide the book.
"But Sis, how else are we going to learn anything about sex, if we don't read this kind of books? Bob and I were just getting an education. We wanted to see what a girl looks like without any clothes on, that's all!"
I could sense that the entire thing had been done as a needle to the Sex Ed project, and I guess they had figured that I would be a likely candidate to harass because word had probably gotten out that I was not above accepting a few favors from the teen-age girls. The entire thing was being done tongue-in-cheek.
"Well," said the beautiful sister as she walked around to the front of the couch, "if it's in the interest of education, maybe I could help. You know, Craig, I'm always willing to help you with your homework."
The girl then pointed to her exposed navel and explained in the printed titles that this was where the cord was cut from the mother after the baby was born. Bob Parker, the other boy, then asked how the baby is fed and the girl shed her bikini top to display as beautiful a pair of out-thrust, cone-shaped breasts as I have ever seen. She told the boys that the baby sucks the milk out of these "cute containers"....
Bob asks if it tastes good and the girl replies that it's all a matter of personal taste. With that she sits on his lap and shoves one of the tits into his gaping mouth.
While he is sucking on her tit, Craig asks her how the baby is made in the first place. She reaches over and opens his fly and pulls his penis out of his pants. She tells him that his thing goes into the girl's thing, a seed is planted, and nine months later a baby is harvested. Craig says he doesn't believe a girl has a thing like that, and so his sister pulls her tit away from Bob's watering mouth, stands up and strips her bikini pants down over her legs, kicking them into the air in the direction of the camera.
Then she stands, legs spread apart, facing the camera. The camera pans her body and then focus is directed to her hairy crotch. The camera stays just far enough away to show her hands holding the lips apart, displaying the meaty gash in all its splendor. Slowly one of her fingers slides between the lips of her slit and it begins an in-and-out movement, stopping only long enough to tease the erect clitoris which is pointing at the camera.
Then the camera backs up and all three youngsters can be seen in their places. Craig is watching his sister while he is handling his now fully erect organ. Bob is dry-working himself through the material of his trousers as he looks at the shapely nude figure of his friend's sister.
The girl approaches her brother and tells him to put his finger in the hole to see what it feels like. Craig obeys, while she tells Bob to stand and continue his imitation of a baby trying to get milk from her gorgeous breasts.
When Bob stands, the girl opens his pants and pushes them down his hips, leaving him standing there, his mouth and tongue caressing her pink nipple while the bulge in his jockey-shorts threatens to tear them at the seams.
Craig asks his sister why people do these things. He says he can understand why they might want a baby, but why would they do it other times? His sister explains that they do it because it feels better than anything else in the world. Craig replies that he doesn't believe her, and then she pulls away from both boys and lies down on the couch, her legs spread widely apart. She tells Craig she'll prove it, and she tells him to take off his clothes and then get on top of her.
By this time, I had become so engrossed in the film that I had not noticed I was no longer being held by the boys behind me or by the small hands which had clutched my genitals earlier. Instead, my stiff rod had been removed from my pants and was being caressed by one of the same small hands. I peered through the darkness to discover the owner of the hand, and I beheld a veritable orgy going on in my class.
While all eyes were on the movie in progress, sweaters and blouses had been removed, as well as bras, and those girls who were not having their tits massaged while they were frigging one of the boys, were having their little "men-in-the-boat" tweaked by eager young fingers.
The owner of the hand on my penis was Candy, and I looked around to find Stella, I discovered her on the floor, kneeling in front of Ted Johnson, his shaft buried deep in her mouth and his free hand on top of her head, urging her on!
The movie continued uninterrupted, and I returned my gaze to the screen. By this time Craig was in the saddle and was pumping away at the encompassing crotch of his older sister. Bob meanwhile was standing next to the head of the girl while she played with his elongated staff. I watched as she drew him closer, and then without changing the rhythmic bounce of her hips against her brother, she enveloped Bob's organ with her lips while her right hand held his hips closer to her bobbing head.
The film had no sound-track, only printed titles crudely made, but the sounds which filled the room as the class watched, made a sound-track completely unnecessary! The moans and groans, both male and female, were all around me. I looked away from the screen and saw at least six couples screwing on the floor, the girls' legs clasped tightly around the boys' rumps, heels adding to the fervor of the hip motion. One girl was perched on the edge of a desk while a female head was buried under her short skirt. One couple were in a 69 position, both parties completely naked!
For a split-second sanity nudged at me and I felt the words form in my throat which could call a halt to this madness ... but the words never came out. At that precise moment Candy's lips swallowed my cock, and I choked on the words. I saw no more of the movie either, because my hands held her bobbing head while my eyes shut themselves tightly.
I have no idea how long the pounding on the door had been going on but when I finally heard it, I shoved Candy's head away, pushed my cock back into my pants and zipped up. In the darkness I heard much scurrying and activity, and then the lights went on.
Everyone was dressed, hair combed and seated at their desks.
I unlocked the door, to be brushed aside by Milt Perkins, the principal, and two old-maid school-teachers.
"What in blazes is going on in here?" Perkins demanded.
I explained that we were simply watching a home-made movie about the birth of some puppies.
"That's not what those three students told us was going to go on in here!" one of the old maids chimed in. "They said an orgy was scheduled for this period, and that there was going to be some stag movies to spur it on!"
"Well, Norman," Perkins shouted, "how about it?"
"I've told you, Mr. Perkins, what the movie was about. Now if you don't want to believe me...."
"Well, I don't believe him," the old bag nearly screamed. "Make him show us the film!"
"That's right," the other demanded, "show us the movie!"
I shrugged my shoulders, said a small prayer under my breath and nodded to one of the girls to switch the lights off. The projector started to whirr-and the most beautiful female cocker spaniel came on the screen!
She duly gave birth to her pups, and when the movie had ended, Perkins apologized to me and angrily herded his two old bats out of the room. Everything was silent for a minute, then the entire class emitted one simultaneous "Whew!"
Before I had a chance to say anything, the bell rang and the class bounded to the doors-all except Ted Johnson, who was gathering his equipment up. I walked over to him and helped him.
"How in hell did you ever get Craig and his sister to help make that movie?" I asked him incredulously.
"We all belong to the same club and ... well, we thought it would be a gas!"
"Now comes the big question," I said. "Why me?"
"Gee, Mr. Norman, you should feel flattered! We initiated Candy and Stella last night, and they told us all about what a cool cat you are ... and Miss Jackman!"
"Oh, swell!" I exclaimed. "Now everyone in town will know about Miss Jackman...."
"...And Candy and Stella, and Miss Jackman's sister? Oh, no, Mr. Norman, this club has been active for five years and no one has ever yet squealed on what happens!"
"Five years!" I shouted. "Why, that's impossible! Why, you and the others are only thirteen or fourteen years old!"
"Oh, we weren't in the club five years ago, but our brothers and sisters were!"
"And it's gone on for five years without anyone ever getting caught?" I queried.
"Oh, no," he said, "there have been some who have gotten caught, but not one who ever squealed on any other members of the club."
"Well, that's fine," I sighed, "but Miss Jackman and I aren't members of the club, so if any of the kids want to squeal, they can and they won't be breaking any of the rules."
"Tell you what, Mr. Norman, I'll talk to some of the board members and see what we can do about maybe making you both honorary members, okay?"
I told him to go ahead and see what he could do. and he promised me an answer the next day.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE INITIATION
The next morning Ted was waiting for me at the door about twenty minutes before the final bell was due to ring. We went inside the classroom and he informed ma that the board had given its approval of Claire, her sister, and me. Our initiation was to take place Friday night in Ted's garage, the same place where the films were made.
"How about your folks?" I inquired. "Won't they be apt to break in on the affair?"
"What do you mean, break in? My dad and mother are auxiliary members of the club now, and have been for the past four years!"
"You mean....?"
"That's right, my folks are real swingers, especially Mom! She was the first to join after she saw some of the initiations we held here. My oldest sister Connie joined when she was thirteen, and after she was a member for only about six months, the club elected her president. She's seventeen now and she's still the president.
"When my dad found out about the club, and my sister and mother's part in it, he was a little sore, but he soon got over that when he discovered the kids didn't mind his making movies of the affairs, as long as he didn't show them around locally. Dad sells them to customers back East who are hot to trot for movies of teen-age sex!"
As he finished, four or five of the youngsters arrived early for class and took their seats. When Ted remarked, "I'll see you tomorrow night," I noticed sly glances among the students. One girl, Joan Waters, even winked at me. It was going to be difficult to wait for Friday!
When I called Claire that afternoon and told her of our forthcoming adventure, she was as excited as a kitten.
"I've heard some whispers of that club, but never anything definite. Oh, God, and now WE'RE going to be in it! That's really fabulous! Just wait till I tell Tina. She'll go ape!"
"Listen," I said, "I'm going to stay away from both of you for the rest of the week, so I can get all the rest I can. I'd advise you and Tina to do the same. I have a hunch these kids could wear all three of us out without much trouble. I for one am going to be as ready as I can be!"
"Okay, spoil-sport," Claire laughed. "But I'm going to miss that lovely prick of yours while Tina and I play with each other!"
"If I were you," I warned, "I'd even cut out the mutual masturbation. I'd just lie around and wait for Friday night. That's what I'm going to do."
"I guess you're right," she agreed. "But I'll be so horny by Friday, I might rape the principal if he comes into my class!"
The next few days seemed to take forever to pass. I found myself with a perpetual hard-on as I contemplated the coming Friday night. It finally arrived.
I picked Tina and Claire up and we drove to Ted Johnson's house. It was a large, expensive affair and had a driveway which led past the house to the garage in the rear. An abandoned tennis court was being used as a parking lot, and there were about twenty cars parked there already and we were about fifteen minutes early.
I parked the car and the three of us approached the door to the garage. An apartment-type peephole was utilized to view us, and then the door was opened by a small middle-aged woman. She was still lovely in spite of her age, and her figure could compete with any of the young girls present. She introduced herself as Ted's mother Frances, and then she called over her husband Paul. He jovially shook hands all around, and then led us into the large building which was constructed to house at least three cars and had a servant's room at the rear.
The kids were all between thirteen and nineteen, and a casual observor would have guessed they were all there to rehearse for a school play or practice hymns for Sunday School. All of them were neatly dressed and behaved themselves as though they were being watched by their parents. We recognized about ten kids from our classes, but the rest of the bunch were complete strangers.
The door opened again and a beautiful girl of about seventeen entered. She kissed Mr. and Mrs. Johnson and then took her place behind the desk at the back. She picked up the gavel and rapped for order.
"The regular semi-monthly meeting of Sexteens Anonymous is called to order! Tonight we have three more initiations, so we will attempt to hurry the regular meeting along. Will the secretary please read the minutes of the last meeting?"
Craig Tomkins stood up to read the minutes. It took about two minutes for him to describe the previous initiation of Stella and Candy, and he read a report of the movie which had been made. I shifted uneasily as he read how the plan to show the movie during my class was outlined and approved unanimously.
After reading of the minutes, the report from the treasurer came and was read by Mr. Johnson. Three committee reports were made, and except for the use of four-letter words, the meeting could have been any standard group of Rotarians, Chamber of Commerce or Church Elders. Parliamentary law was strictly adhered to throughout.
When Connie asked for "new business," Ted Johnson stood up and introduced the three new initiates. Connie then adjourned the business meeting to get on with the initiation.
The three of us were blindfolded and then stripped of our clothing. I could hear the appreciative whistles of the boys as the garments were removed from Claire and Tina. When my shorts were taken down and my erect prick sprang forth, I heard the same appreciative whistles from the teen-age girls.
We were then told to get on our knees. The two girls were told that the boys would line up and each one would slide his dick in and out of their mouths three times. Claire and Tina were to keep track of the rotation number of the boys, and when it was over, they were to call out their choice by number for the next step of the initiation.
I was told that each girl present would press her pussy to my lips, and I was to insert my tongue three times into each. I too was to keep in mind the rotation number and call out my choice at the end of the line.
Being blindfolded with my hands clasped behind me, I wasn't able to discern how my girl companions were making out, but I do know now that no two pussies taste alike. My tongue entered eighteen vaginas before the end of the line. I had kept track of the numbers and was in a dilemma until the sixteenth slit was pushed against my face. The clitoris was erect and it stabbed into my mouth like a small penis. I remembered that clitoris. It belonged to Craig's sister, the girl in the movie!
When it was time to call the number, I immediately yelled for sixteen. I waited a moment, and then hands were untying my blindfold. I smelled the womanly odor of the girl whose apex rested against my cheek, as she struggled with the knots in the handkerchief. When it came off, I looked up into the face of Gwen Tomkins, Craig's beautiful and horny 17-year-old sister. She reached down and helped me up, and we walked to a couch to sit and watch the finish of Tina's and Claire's initiation.
When it was over, the blindfolded Tina had chosen Mr. Johnson and Claire had picked the boy with the smallest cock in the crowd, 13-year-old Jerry Witt!
"Whit's next on the agenda?" I asked my lovely companion.
"Next we put this to good use!" she replied, reaching for my stiff cock and caressing it. "We put it to good use-in public!"
"You mean in front of all these kids?" I asked nervously.
"Don't worry about it, Daddy-O," she answered. "By the time you get that dong of yours into me a couple of times, the rest of the gang will be too busy fucking and sucking to know anything else that's going on. Besides, I've fucked all the boys here at least once, and they are going to be interested in the hip action of the two new chicks. The girls here are going to be too busy trying to get the cock each one of them wants, to notice what you and I are doing."
"You mean you've actually had relations with all the boys in this room? Does that include Mr. Johnson?"
"Oh, him!" she exclaimed. "He's a real swinger! Sure, I've balled with him six or seven times. He's about the best in the room as far as experience goes! He's been fucking longer than any of us have been alive ... and you can't beat experience!"
"Well, Gwen honey," I said, "meet the new champ! I'm older than he is. I've got at least an inch more cock than he has, and I haven't had a piece of ass or a good jack-off in a week. I've been saving it all for little old you!"
Our heads came together and we kissed, tongues invading each other's mouths, our bodies grinding against each other. Our arms were locked around each other and we hardly noticed when hands lifted us, still entwined, into the center of the room where we were deposited on the rug.
Gwen reached down between us and fondled my throbbing lance. I was flat on my back and she soon straddled me, aimed my shaft at her slit and plunged down. My cock was so sensitive by this time, that I could feel her clitoral hard-on.
When she impaled herself on my rod, she uttered a sharp and piercing scream. The audience applause surprised me momentarily but not for long. The scream died down to low moans and groans, and her fingernails were soon clawing into my back and her sharp teeth were nibbling at my ear while she pistoned herself on my penis.
"Oh, God. Daddy, fuck me until I die!' Ram it to me! Jam it to me! Push that juicy cock into my aching cunt and out my ass-hole! OooooeeeEEEEEE! Push up harder! OOOOoooo ... I'm COOOOOMMMMMING!"
I felt the clitoral action and the slow trickle of feminine juices as she came, but she never missed a stroke with her glorious hip action. She kept plunging down, bouncing my buttocks on the rug, clawing at my back, my shoulders, my chest and finally down between our bodies to my anus.
She pushed two fingers into my rectum, causing me to lunge upward and shoot my stream of sperm into her hot and steaming receptacle. At the same instant she shuddered and collapsed on my chest, her body shaking, sweaty and breathing as though she had just finished the four-minute mile in 3:38.
I could feel the juices ooze out of our bodies, wetting our pubic hair and saturating my balls. It only took her a couple of seconds to recover and she was ready to go again. My dong had decreased in size, but she reached down and handled it expertly so that it soon responded to the treatment and miraculously was ready and eager for another go.
This time she clamped her knees around my hips, her arms around my shoulders, and then swung over onto her back, rolling me on top of her and in between her rising legs. I put all my know-how and years of experience into that screw, and when we were through she told ms that if a 49-year-old man screws that good, she was going out to look for a 98-year-old stud who should be twice as good!
"Man, Daddy-O," she panted, "I'm going to quit this kid club and go out looking for guys your age who can really turn mo on!"
While we rested, I looked around the room at the others.
Claire was on her back, her legs clamped about the waist of a young boy who could have been no more than thirteen. She was smoothing the hair on his head while he humped and pumped away at her quim with his small lance. I watched her as she brought his head down next to hers and darted her tongue into his ear, causing him to shudder and try to poke deeper into her bottomless hole.
He slowed down enough to reach his lips down to engulf one of her nipples and, were it not for the fact that they were screwing, one could almost have imagined that he was actually nursing! Claire appeared to have been satisfying two needs. She was being prodded by a cock, although a small one, and she was in the position to mother a youngster while he was doing it.
Her sister Tina, however, was not exactly being a mother. Mr, Johnson was stretched out in a chair, his legs spread apart and his staff being drained of its juices by the hungry mouth of Tina, who was on her knees in front of him. Her long hair nearly covered his hairy thighs as her head bobbed up and down on his rod.
Tina, was not being neglected either, as Ted Johnson, his knees bent slightly, was taking her from the rear. At first I thought she was being buggered, but I saw Ted wet one of his fingers in his mouth and then jam it into her anus. I knew then that he was buried deeply within her well-lubricated pussy.
Oral sex appeared to dominate the scene, mostly I learned-because the Pill was not easily obtained by youngsters and the girls were fearful of pregnancy. The use of rubbers was widespread.
As I looked around the big garage room, I must have seen at least four couples in the 69 position, while at least two girls were on their knees orally servicing their boy partners.
A mixed group was in a corner smoking grass, each using only one hand to hold the roach while the other hand was busily frigging the party next to him or her. Gender didn't seem to matter, as two boys were frigging each other while two girls were doing the same. They all appeared oblivious to their surroundings, simply pursuing their hedonistic values of the moment.
My partner was completely out of it. She must have been pretty tired when it all started, because she passed out only moments after we had completed our last erotic pursuit. As I lay there, I suddenly felt Gwen rolled away, and I looked up into the leering face of Joan Waters, who was in my English II class.
Joan was one of the smaller girls in the class, and while she was a full year older than the other girls, she appeared to be younger because of her size. Her breasts were about as developed as they would ever be, and they resembled small kitchen-size funnels, inverted.
Other items which were inverted, I learned a few minutes later, were her nipples. Only after playing with her tits for a few minutes would her nipples suddenly pop out, standing erect and proud. Joan could not have weighed over ninety pounds, but she was surprisingly firm of muscle and yet not the slightest bit skinny. Her girlish figure, while tiny, was well-proportioned and her legs were among the prettiest I have ever seen.
Her face was not pretty as far as classic beauty goes, but she could be described as cute. She wore her hair in a pony-tail which added to the illusion of childhood along with her diminutive body.
While she rubbed herself against my hips, her mouth was busy on my chest. She kissed and tongued every inch of my chest, neck and chin before she pressed her month to mine and I felt her oral lance invade me. Our tongues played tag for a few moments before I felt her hand reach for my limp cock and begin massaging it vertically.
Instinctively my hand found its way down to the center of her being and was met by the most profuse forest of pubic hair I have ever encountered in a young girl. I felt the wet lips of her vagina even through the crinkly hair, and my fingers began toying with a very large and erect clitoris. Her breathing became erratic, and suddenly with a cry of passion, she whipped herself over on top of me, positioned my stiffening penis at the entrance of her womanhood, and then lunged downward.
I was sure she would then pump away in a frenzy, but I was mistaken. She moved her hips up and down slower than an oil-rig pump. The feeling was magnificent! Her lips and tongue bathed my face and neck while she drew every ounce of pleasure from our slowly moving sex organs. I felt her quiver and gasp after a few moments, and she missed a stroke with her hips as she bathed my loins with her womanly dew.
Then she immediately began the slow rhythm again. I knew I was coming to the point where I could no longer hold myself back and that I soon would fill her insides with the sperm from my throbbing loins. She seemed to sense this too, and she quickly stopped pumping and we merely rested, coupled together. When she was sure I could go on, she started over again.
When I at last exploded my sperm into her body, she waited until I had caught my breath and then she spoke for the first time.
"I knew you'd be a perfect lay the first time I saw you with a hard-on behind your desk!"
"Could you see I had a hard-on?" I asked.
"Yeah! I knew Candy and Stella were giving you that hard-on in class and while I enjoyed looking at it, I wanted it to be M S who caused it! My cunt and the way Hike to screw is a hell of a lot better for a man your age than those two punk chicks!"
"What do you know about a man my age and his needs?" I smiled.
"My dad is about your age," she answered, "and we've been sleeping together since right after mom died last year."
"But that's incest!" I cried.
"After the fucking I gave you, do you still want to insist that incest, as you call it, is really bad for me?"
"I don't know," I replied, cupping her small breast and fingering the inverted nipple to make it pop out, "and I really don't give a damn! All I know is that I could lie here with you on top of me for the rest of my life!"
We lay in each other's arms for the rest of the night, then I drove Claire and Tina home.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE LID BLOWS OFF
Because of the strenuous weekend, Monday during my free fifth period, I went into the auditorium to catch a little shuteye. I was just dozing off when the door opened and I saw Miss Frisbie, the drama teacher, and nine of her charges enter and lock the door behind them. It seems she was against the Sex Ed class but since she was a drama teacher, they were to act out the class and participate in it.
They stopped in front of the stage except for one couple who came onto it, sat on the couch, and proceeded to demonstrate for the others.
I could see the girl on the stage rubbing her legs together and could almost hear her breathing as her chest rose and fell with every tantalizing motion the boy made. I could tell she was about to explode.
"Now," Miss Frisbie began, "Jim, open your mouth enough to allow Bea's lips to go inside yours. Bea, when his mouth covers yours, wait just a second and then force your tongue through your lips. This will open your mouth wider, see? That's fine, you're doing fine!
"Now, Jim, push your tongue into her mouth and play with hers. As quickly as her tongue goes into your mouth, Jim, release her hand on your lap and use it to cup her left breast. Take the nipples in between your fingers and exert just a bit of pressure. Notice how the nipples suddenly become stiff and erect? Bea, use your hand now to clasp his penis firmly but not tightly. Take your hand and glide it up his prick and over the top. This will spread the fluid over the head of the penis, and at the same time lubricate your palm for more effectiveness!"
I had been so intent on watching the couple on the stage that it was only when Miss Frisbie stopped talking, that I looked down at her and the other seven students. She had been following the motions herself and now she had both of her hands wrapped around the erect organ of the young boy in the next seat!
It was too much for the young boy, and he flew at her, pressing his mouth over hers and draping his long lanky body over hers, his hips pistoning erratically. In a frenzy, she whipped her legs around his back and lunged upward, impaling herself on his waiting prick. Miss Frisbie pumped upward with as much vigor as her partner pumped downward.
My eyes went to the other members of the group. Two couples were screwing madly on the floor and two shapeless girls were in a 69 position not far away, tongues darting in and out of each others' pussies.
I looked down at the front of my pants, and my penis was straining to be released. I could stand it no longer? I crept quietly over to the shapeless girls, threw my clothes off, and fell to the floor alongside them and took one of the girls' hands and placed it over my now-exposed prick.
She pulled away from the girl and rolled on top of me. She straddled me like riding a horse and placed the head of my spear at her cunt's entrance and slowly sank down, engulfing it to the hilt. She held her upper body still to allow me to lick at the small nubs, but kept up a steady pistoning action with her pounding hips. I finally released the one tiny tit and started to suck on the other one, when I felt her body tense and I knew she was having a climax.
Before she had a chance to continue, she was pushed off and my throbbing rod was engulfed by another furry pussy. The other girl, still not satisfied, used my fingers to work herself to a further climax, until both my new partner and I had simultaneous orgasms. She rolled off me, then taking the cue from her partner, rode the fingers of my other hand while I lay there in a state of exhaustion....
When my eyes finally opened, it was because a shoe was nudging me. I blinked and looked up into the faces of the school principal, the superintendent, two of the old-maid teachers, and one school board member. As long as I live I don't think I will ever forget the shocked, unbelieving expressions on their faces!
As I sit here in my cell in the county jail, those horrified looks still haunt me. There are no bars to protect me from the wrath my soul is enduring.
I trust that my detailed narrative in this appeal has made clear that I was not really an evil man to start with-it was because of the constant temptation provided by the sex-hungry girls in my classes and the enforced dealing with sex on an educational level.
My prayers tonight will be for the probation officer and the judge who will decide whether I shall be given probation or not, will be merciful and a little understanding.
Respectfully yours, Bruce L. Norman
THE SENTENCE
The scene is the courtroom presided over by His Honor David J. Bear dslcy, Judge of the Superior Court. Judge Beardsley looks down at the defendant and then speaks:
"I have been on the bench of the Court for more than twelve years. Not once during those years have I ever been so nauseated by the written testimony of a defendant.
"Mr. Norman, yours has been the most flagrant misuse of public trust I have ever seen or heard of. You have fed your lust on the eager innocents in your charge. You apparently expect this court to believe that you were an unwilling participant at the beginning, and simply a fun-loving male as events developed.
"Mr. Norman, the court not only does not believe you. but the court is extremely doubtful that the events occurred as you have related them in your lengthy narrative. I seriously wonder if perhaps other instances of perversion and sexual intimacies have not taken place elsewhere, at your instigation. Who among us can be certain, after this case is on record, what actually has happened to our daughters, our sisters, our nieces? How many more innocent young children have fallen victim to your despicable wiles?
"Even if your story should be a hundred per-cent true, how many children will be adversely affected mentally and spiritually, as well as physically, because of what you readily admit you did?
"Mr. Norman, at no time during these past twelve years have I had the misfortune to read such obvious filth as you have presented to this court in the guise of a legal probation appeal. Your use of the language of the street, and the graphic descriptions you have detailed pertaining to your affairs and the participants in these affairs, is truly disgusting! I will confess to the people present here in this courtroom that after reading your recital of these events, I went to the bathroom and vomited.
"You, Mr. Norman, as far as this court is concerned, are no longer to be considered a part of the human race. What you have done has negated your right to be called human. You are an animal, a two-legged, marauding, vicious animal, and as such, you must be caged or destroyed to protect society.
"Unfortunately the law does not permit this court to order you destroyed. I must therefore pronounce sentence upon you and ask the people of this state to provide you with clothing, food and medical care, as a reward for what you have done to their children.
"I concur with the probation officer's report that you arc not worthy of consideration by this court for probation. Your appeal for probation is therefore denied.
"I sentence you herewith to be delivered to the custody of the Warden of the State Penitentiary, and to remain in his custody for a period of not less than ten years nor more than fifty years. In order to hold jurisdiction over your case and prevent any possible parole by a gullible parole-board which might consider your case in the future, this court suspends one day of that sentence.
"In cases where the court finds it necessary to sentence a man to death, the court usually says 'and may God have mercy on your soul'. In this case, however. I am going to ask God to have mercy on the souls of your victims and on society as a whole. "This court stands adjourned!"
