Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 



   "Summer School Footslut"

   By Cinque Manson



   I.



   The teacher sat at her desk watching the last class of the day file into
her classroom.  The day had seemed twice as long as normal, the first day
of summer school, and she couldn't wait for it to end.  All the children
were seated and the bell rang.  She commenced the lesson on cell biology.
After drawing a diagram on the blackboard, she lectured on the component
parts of cells, occasionally asking questions of the gaggle of thirteen and
fourteen year old teenagers that sat attentively in rows before her.  She
glanced at the clock hanging above the door and said, "Alright, for the
remainder of class I want you to read pages 258 through 280 in your
textbook.  Then begin the quiz at the end of the chapter.  All work not
finished by end of class you will do as your homework." The biology teacher
leaned back against her desk, armed folded across her ample breasts, and
smiled as twenty-four teens extricated long forgotten texts from their
backpacks in forlorn unison.  Ellen Hornbeck loved the power she wielded
over these young people.  She looked out the window at the cherry trees in
blossom in the soft hazy sunlight of the late spring day.  She was
authoritative and powerful, nearly six feet tall in her bare feet, six foot
three in the high heel sandals she wore that day.  Her long thick raven
hair was pinned into a french twist atop her head.  She had learned, in her
dozen years of teaching, that conservative dress elicited the proper
respect from her adolescent charges.  Once, early on, she had made the
mistake of wearing a short minidress to school on a day that broke records
for heat and humidity.  None of the boys in any of her classes paid the
slightest attention to her lecture, staring candidly at her full figure and
long bare legs.  She noted nearly every one of the boys sported bulges in
their pants.  Althought she found this response flattering, and certainly
arousing, it played hell with class discipline, and she made mental note to
never repeat the display.  Miss Hornbeck took stock of herself.  She
admired her starched white cotton blouse, with the ruffled front, which
covered her almost industrial style wire ribbed bra.  Not a hint of nipple
peaked through the layers of stiff fabric.  Her full breasts, which swayed
weightily when unleashed, topped by oversized puffy wrinkled brown nipples,
were firmly contained in their armor.  Her navy blue skirt of thin wool
stopped right below her knees.  Although she was still statuesquely
beautiful at thirty-five, her outfit projected power, not sex.  The only
breaches in the armor of her rectitude were her legs, which she had not
encased that morning with her customary pantyhose, because the tan she'd
achieved over the short vacation before the beginning of summer session had
turned her snow white skin an even golden brown and she felt it a shame to
cover it with cheap nylon.  Her long tanned legs culminated in perfectly
proportioned feet, which stretched in a perfect arch in the sleek black
high heel sandals.  She wiggled her toes, admiring the nails painted a deep
red that matched her lipstick.  She wiggled her toes, remembering her
vacation, and the wonderful pedicure she'd gotten the last day of her
trip...  She went back to the same luxury hotel every year in the spring.
Often there was still a chill in the eveining air back home in mid-June, so
it was heaven to spend two weeks on an isle in the Gulf of Mexico. 
Especially since the hotel was so sensitive to the needs of women like her,
unmarried women of a certain age and inclination.  As she remembered the
warmth of her room, the lush terry robe around her relaxed and pampered
body, she conjured up a memory of the two boys, not much older than her
students, who sat on low stools in front of her reclining chair and took
her feet on their laps and massaged them with special unguents.  They knew
their business, Miguel and Rigo.  They worked in unison, running their
small strong thumbs along her arch.  The lotion, laced with ground cayenne,
caused her feet to tingle and burn with delicious heat.  The boys, dressed
only in tiny black speedo swimsuit, splayed her toes and worked the goo
between each one.  This was delicious!  As they rolled and tugged her
elegant long toes she felt a sympathetic rolling in the center of her sex.
She leaned her head back, closed her eyes and surrendered to the lovely
erotic feelings the Mexican teens were coaxing out of her toes.  Miguel and
Rigo patiently worked her arches again, with the knuckles of their smooth
brown hands.  Ellen parted her legs slightly, just enough for the boys to
peer up beneath her short white robe and sneak glimpses at her firm thighs.
Miguel pointed at the immodest display and smiled.  Both boys were sporting
compact little boy hardons which stretched the fronts of their speedos. 
They lifted the gringo lady's ankles and moved them farther apart,
ostensibly to be able to better access the top of her feet, but also
because it allowed them to gaze at the thin sheer crotch of her panties,
which displayed an undeniable wet patch at her cunt.  Ellen opened her eyes
to slits, to spy on her servants.  She knew she was luricating
uncontrollably, and she knew by the looks on Miguel and Rigo's faces that
they could see right through the soaked material of her panties.  Her full
wet pussy lips shined luminous and pink, flecked by her ebony pubic hairs.
She noticed their pricks pushing the lycra of their tiny shorts.  She bent
her knees slightly, just enough to bring the tips of the toes on each of
her feet into contact with the boys's dicks.  She raised her legs so she
could lightly caress the rock hard boydicks with her lotion covered toes.
Miguel and Rigo held her ankles lightly, their eyes on the obscene
teacher's feet in their laps.  Ellen shamelessly pushed the balls of her
feet against their twin pillars, then down to their tight balls.  Moving as
one, the boys tugged the waists of their speedos and pulled them down,
exposing their erections, hooking the waistbands beneath the tight hard
spheres of their nutsacks.  Ellen was dismayed that at the little crests of
black pubic hair crowing their groins.  She liked her boys smooth.  She
shook her head, and lost herself once more in the delicious sensations
welling from their laps.  Ellen groaned deep in her throat as she caught
their cocks in the crotch between her big toes and the next and began to
jack them off.  Few things satisfied the beautiful brunette than a boy's
manhood beneath her feet, and this was doubly good.  Their cocks were
relatively short and slender, but Ellen found their smallness arousing
against the length of her size eleven feet.  The boys worked in measured
unity, fucking their cocks between her toes as she kept their testicles
trapped beneath her heels.  "Ayyyyyeeeee!" cried Rigo, baring his small
white teeth as the mature woman pressed his dick roughly into his belly. 
Miguel simply smiled and humped lazily between the gorgeous American
woman's squishy toes.  Ellen lay on the bed with her legs spread, the
dressing gown open revealing her soaked panties.  Her head was down and she
watched the boys squirming under the pressure of her tan slick feet on
their throbbing dicks.  She loved the way the crowns of their brown cocks
bulged purple and fat when she pinched the flesh of their cockshafts with
her toenails.  She increased the tempo of her jerking, and watched the boys
thrash under her toes as if they were being electrocuted.  Their dicks were
twitching, the blue veins bulging, and she knew they wouldn't last much
longer.  "Ahhhhh, senora," Rigo called out, "Vengo ahorita!!!" "Go ahead,
cum for me...  Cum all over me..." She purred.  Rigo tensed his whole body,
and his hard little pecker shot out a string of pearly dollops that landed
on Ellen's toes.  Miguel watched gaped-mouth at his partner, then let loose
with gobs of his own jizz, glazing the foot grasping his stiff little
prick. Ellen smeared the boyjuice on her soles all over the still erect
penises of her pedicure boys, laughing out loud at as they gasped.  The
emperious gringa school teacher stretched her legs and worked the kinks out
of her thighs, and then raised her slime covered feet level with Miguel and
Rigo's mouths.  "Clean me, por favor.  Limpia..." The boys, trained well by
the hotel to please their guests, began licking and slurping their cum from
her beautiful feet.  This was it, the moment that always sent a shock
through Ellen's pussy, and she came and came in undulating waves as the
boys sucked and laved.  Eventually, when the boys had made sure every trace
of their ejaculations was gone from their mistress, and they had stuffed
their pricks back into their skimpy swimsuits, they asked, "Algunas mas? 
Do you wish anything else, Senora?" Ellen lazily reached into the pocket of
her terry robe and took out a list of services provided by the hotel's
beauty spa room service.  She turned the list to the boys, not sure she
could translate the text, pointed at an item and said, "I think I'd like
that one, the "Bikini Trim"." "As you wish, Senora." Miguel stood and
retired to the bathroom to gather the things he'd need, and Rigo pushed his
stool forward so that he sat between Ellen's spread thighs.  "Por favor",
he said, gingerly taking the waistband of her panties between his
fingertips.  Ellen raised slightly, and the Mexican boy slid her panties
down her legs.  Miguel returned with a tray, and sat down next to Rigo.  He
took a pair of small scissors, leaned forward, and expertly trimmed at
Ellen's pubic thatch.  Rigo collected the trimmings and disposed of them
discreetly in a small container on the tray.  Rigo knitted his brow in
concentration.  He snipped and clipped, combing his fingers through her
pubes, occasionally rubbing her pussy lips, but seemingly in innocence.  At
last, he seemed satisfied.  Miguel then took an old-fashioned shaving
brush, flecked with foam, and dabbed it on the older woman's mons.  He
followed the application of the shaving lotion by massaging it in tight
circles into her short clipped hair.  Rigo put a hand on either of her
thighs and spread them, exposing her pussy and opening her nether lips. 
Miguel applied the lather to the hairs surrounding her cunt, and followed
with his talented fingers.  Ellen moved with the teen's carresses, and felt
Rigo's hands following suit.  Four little hands manipulated her labia,
fingers entered her wet and waiting pussy, palms pushed and abraded her
clit.  Ellen's hips began to rut against the hands, and she felt a steady
pressure against her pussy walls.  Miguel had four fingers halfway into
her, as Rigo rubbed on either side of her clit, which was incredibly
engorged and poked a half an inch beyond the folds of her pussy lips, with
both of his slippery lathered hands.  The lithe cabana boys guided the high
school teacher through a series of building climaxes, at the same time
carefully razored her clean, so that at the end she had cum half a dozen
times and she was completely shaven.  They rose quietly, and left the room.
She lay back in her lounge chair, spent and completely relaxed...  Mrs. 
Hornbeck leaned against the desk in her classroom, her eyes closed.  Sex
had started her reverie, and sex, in the end, brought her back to reality.
It made her rub her thighs together in an attempt to quell her excitement,
and she realized the memory of her pedicure had made her panties moist. 
Her mons felt irritated and raw where her pubic stubble had begun to grow
back.  This wouldn't do at all.  Ellen opened her eyes.  She scanned her
students, all with their heads down scribbling in their notebooks, paying
her no attention whatsoever.  Good.  Wait, all except for one, Timothy
Rowe, who was staring at her with hooded glazed eyes.

   ******************************************************************

   Timmy finished the reading, skimmed the quiz and sighed.  This stuff was
so boring.  His mind wandered, and he looked sleepily out of the second
floor window of the classroom at the wispy clouds lazily wafting across the
azure sky.  He pulled a sharp #2 pencil from his backback and began to
doodle and sketch in his binder, pushing his tousled blond hair back from
his face.  Timmy was an accomplished artist, talented far beyond his years.
While the other boys struggled to approximate stilted drawings of hot rods
and movie monsters, Timmy drew fluid lines that gave his work a quirky life
of its own.  He loved to draw more than anything.  He looked
surreptitiously at Mrs.  Hornbeck, standing at the head of the class with
her arms folded.  He began to draw her, just a sketch with few details. 
Not satisfied with his initial attempt, he turned to a fresh page and
decided to work on a detail.  He looked at his teacher's tanned legs,
demurely covered to the knee, and her trim ankles and feet.  He began to
move his pencil over the paper.  He outlined the curve of her heel, the
indents of below her ankles.  He knit his brow as he drew the complicated
lines of the straps of her shoes.  As he shaded in the shadows and crooks,
his breath quickened.  Timmy often did "life studies" from pictures in the
magazines his father kept poorly hidden in a drawer in the garage.  As he
faithfully rendered the centerfolds from his father's Playboy's and
Penthouse's he became completely and fully engrossed, lost in the maddening
details of full tits and soft thighs, pouting butts and the mystery of
pussy.  Timmy had never seen an actual woman nude, and the pornographic
photos of and by themselves did not arouse him.  It was only when he drew
the women in the magazines that his dick filled with blood and uncoiled in
his jeans.  Drawing them made them painfully real to him, as if his pencil
were a nerve-filled extension of himself stroking the full bodies of the
women he drew.  Only when he'd finished a picture to his satisfaction would
he free his boyish penis and jack off, teeth bared, and grace the drawing
with his sperm.  Timmy was getting the familiar feelings in his crotch as
he finished the detail of Mrs.  Hornbeck's foot.  Although he was only of
average size for his age, his uncircumcised dick was nearly as big as it
was going to get, nearly seven inches long when hard, thick and heavy.  It
was hard as he sat there admiring the pencil drawing of his teacher's foot.
His mind raced.  He put pencil to paper again, beginning a full figure
sketch of Mrs.  Hornbeck in the same pose as his first.  But this time he
drew her nude, filling in the details of her full proud breasts and the
imagined puff of pubic hair from memories of magazine girls he especially
found hot and attractive.  His cock lay like a length of pipe down his leg,
stretching the worn denim of his favorite pair of blue jeans.  He stole
quick glances at Mrs.  Hornbeck, so that he could accurately capture the
features of her lovely face.  He realized that the thirty-five year old was
extremely beautiful, and he sighed deeply.  His teacher had her limpid
brown eyes closed, her eyebrows raised slightly.  Her mouth was open just
enough for her bright red lips to part, as she breathed through them. 
Timmy's head was swimming, Mrs.  Hornbeck looked so sexy.  He couldn't wait
for the bell so he could run home and annoint his obscene version of his
biology teacher with viscous drops of his cum...  He was almost done.  He
had never felt so close to cumming without touching himself, and hoped he
could calm down a bit so he could stand up.  His dick throbbed ominously.
He stared on last time at his teacher, to freeze her in his memory, and
then she appeared to wake up, take a quick look around the class.  Her eyes
settled on him.  And then dropped to his binder.  He clumsily tried to
close it before she could discern what he'd been up to, but as he
concentrated on hiding his art he heard the sharp clip-clops of her heels
on the classroom floor coming right to him.  Just then the bell rang.

   ***********************************************************************

   "Class!  Attention!  Please finish the quizz tonight and be prepared to
hand them in tomorrow." Mrs.  Hornbeck stood at Timmy's desk, her hand
resting on his closed binder as she addressed her students.  She announced,
"Alright, class dismissed!" The crowd of children, set free at last into
the spring afternoon, became a rowdy throng, jostling and pushing desks out
of the way on their way to the door.  Timmy tried discretely to pull his
binder free, but his biology teacher pushed hard on it and stared down at
him.  "You stay put.  I'd like a word with you when the others leave."
Ellen needed to get to the bottom of this.  She had plainly seen the
drawing of a nude woman in Timmy's binder, and had decided on the spot she
could not brook this breakdown in discipline.  She watched the last
straggling gawky adolescent leave her classroom, walked briskly to the door
and locked it.  She returned to Timmy's desk, picked up his binder and
returned to her spot in front of her desk.  She lifted on her toes and
rested her bottom on her desk.  She sat back, crossed her legs, and opened
her students notebook.  It opened as if by magic to the drawing he'd
fabricated in his mind of her unclothed.  She gasped.  This was far worse
than she thought.  "What is the meaning of this?" She turned the spiral
notebook toward Timmy, who writhed in his seat.  "I...  I...  I'm sorry,
Mrs.  Hornbeck!" the boy stuttered.  She flipped through the pages.  She
studied the detail he'd done of her foot.  A sudden evil idea jumped into
her consciousness.  "You've a real talent, Timmy, this one is quite good."
"Thank you, Mrs.  Hornbeck." She began to slowly swing her leg back and
forth, secretly rubbing her thighs together, and watched with satisfaction
as her student's eyes followed her movements.  She caught the back strap of
her high heel sandal with the toe of her other shoe and pushed it over her
heel.  The slight shoe dropped so it dangles from her tan long toes.  "I'm
going to have to give you detention, Timmy.  Please stand up." "You're not
going to tell my parents, Mrs.  Hornbeck.  Please..." The boy stood up and
slid out of his desk chair.  Ellen frowned when she noticed the outline of
his mansize cock on his boy thin thigh.  Oh God, she thought, I shouldn't
be doing this.  But she also knew she held the power in this situation. 
Her student stood before her, mortally afraid she was going to tell his
parents, shifting from foot to foot, his boner poking down his leg
completely beyond his control.  The lusty biology teacher looked to the
small window in the door to her class, and knew what she must do.  "No,
Timmy, I won't tell anyone about this." She pointed to the binder in her
lap.  "I'm actually a bit flattered.  Do you find me attractive?" The
change in direction of his teacher's conversation confused the boy.  "Yes,
ma'am." "You seem to know a lot about female anatomy...  This sketch if
very accurate in a general sense.  But it's not very accurate in the
details." "I...  I...  I like to do studies..." He looked in agony.  His
hardon raged unabated.  "Would you like to draw me from life sometime,
Timmy?" "C...  c...  could I?" "Perhaps.  I'll have to think about it. 
First, there's the matter of your punishment." Timmy waited to hear what
horrible repititious assignment his teacher would hand down to him. 
Instead, Ellen stood up and walked behind her desk and stood next to her
chair.  She pointed down to her feet.  "Come here, young man, I want you to
get in here." Timmy limped clumsily over and followed her direction.  He
bent down and crawled into the dark well between the columns of drawers
that held his teacher's desk.  A panel of plywood covered the front, and
although it was a large desk, he felt cramped in there.  His teacher leaned
over and nodded.  "Can you lay down in there?' He could, on his side, bent
in an "S" shape with his knees bent back and his shoulders hunched forward.
Mrs.  Hornbeck sat in her rolling chair and scooted into her desk.  She
said, "I'm going to grade papers for a while, Timmy.  As I do that I want
you to massage my poor tired feet, since they seem to fascinate you so
much." There seemed no space at all under the desk when Mrs.  Hornbeck's
legs filled what little void there'd been after Timmy had climbed in.  Her
right leg straightened and she rested the heel of her sandal on his hip,
while the sole of her left shoe pressed his cheek.  This was the shoe she'd
loosened a moment before, and she caught the heel on his ear, dropping her
shoe behind his head.  Her pink sole came to rest on the teenage boy's
face. It had been a long day, and her foot was very fragrant.  Ellen took
quick stock.  If someone looked in on her from the hallway they would see
her at her desk, grading papers with a red pencil.  She smiled, and ground
her sole on Timmy's nose.  She spread her legs, getting more comfortable.
Beneath the desk, in the close cubicle, Timmy wondered how he was supposed
to massage his teacher's feet when one of his hands was caught beneath him
and the other was essentially useless, bent at an uncomfortable angle
behind his head.  "What do you want me to do, Mrs.  Hornbeck?" Ellen
drifted her foot up and down her student's face.  Timmy's breath caught as
he sniffed her smell.  God, it was kind of stinky, but it was somehow sexy.
He found it intoxicating, and inhaled her deeply.  "Massage my foot.  I'm
very tired today, I've been standing up all day, while beastly little boys
like you fantasize about my body." Ellen spread her toes and ground them
into the thirteen year old's fresh smooth features.  She traced his
forehead, his nose, and then drew her big toe over his pliant lips.  She
felt the tip of his tongue shyly exploring from the tight crack of his
lips, and said, "That's right, Timmy, lick my poor tired feet.  You've been
a naughty, smutty little pig, and you deserve to have my smelly old foot in
your face." She pushed her toe firmly into the boy's mouth.  Timmy's eyes
bugged out.  He felt ashamed, and strange, but also curiously resolved. 
He'd been bad, he'd done something shameful, and this seemed fitting
punishment.  His teacher's toe filled his mouth, and he began to suck on
it. He rested his front teeth her hard toe nail, and swirled his tongue
around it.  She jerked slightly, and he pulled back, letting her foot drop
to the floor in front of his head.  "Am I doing alright, Mrs.  Hornbeck?"
Ellen replaced her foot on his face, roughly jammed her big toe back in his
mouth and said, "Don't you stop until I tell you.  From now on you're my
little homeroom foot slut, you understand?" Timmy hummed,"Mmmhmmm", in
assent.  He sighed deeply and bobbed his head up and down on his teacher's
toe.  Despite her stern tone, she was delighted.  Timmy was a natural foot
slave.  He suctioned and licked her toe, obviously excited.  She noted the
slight tremors in his body traveling up the foot resting on his hip.  She
reached down beneath the desk and pulled her skirt up a couple of inches,
allowing her legs more freedom to move about.  Timmy had been ministering
to Mrs.  Hornbeck with his eyes closed, but he opened them now and his
hungry eyes traveled up her long legs to her firm thighs.  She shifted and
he could see what seemed to be miles of tanned flesh, all the way up into
the shadows of her crotch.  He allowed her big toe to slip from his mouth,
and sticking his tongue out of his wide open mouth he began to slobber and
lick between her toes.  She splayed her foot, and smeared the saliva he
left back on his adoring face.  He moved his head about, tracing the faint
lines on Mrs.  Hornbeck's soles in adoration.  Ellen dug in the heel of the
shoe that used the boy's hip as a footstool until the sandal slipped off.
She rubbed her sweaty sole on her student's levis, and dropped it down
until the length of it pressed on the banana shaped bulge of his cock. 
Timmy gasped.  She pushed and relaxed, pushed and relaxed, and thrilled at
the size of the boy's dick.  It was so thick, like a man's.  She wanted to
see it, to feel it uncovered by layers of denim.  She said, in a falsely
casual tone, "Undo your jeans, Timmy.  I want to rub my smelly old foot on
your penis..." Timmy fidgeted and squirmed, clumsily unbuttoning his jeans.
His teacher kept him busy with the foot she continued to push it into his
face, while her other trapped his dick.  He finally got his pants over his
ass and pushed them to his bent knees.  It was as far as they would go as
long as he was stuck under her desk.  Ellen luxuriated in the silky
hardness of the boy' naked cock under her feet.  She was lubricating freely
into her panties, and she knew her cunt lips were fat and loose beneath the
cotton crotch panel.  She pushed Timmy's dick against his thigh, bending it
away from his body although she could feet the tension trying to bring it
to its more natural position pointing up toward his belly.  She stared at
the sketch of her naked.  She said, "You know, Timmy, this picture you drew
of me is not anatomically correct.  Let me show you..." She tucked her feet
together, reached beneath her skirt, and quickly plucked her panties off,
letting the fall behind the crouching student.  She spread her legs,
drawing her chair in so her stomach pressed into the front of the desk, and
pulled her skirt up her thighs.  "Can you see, Timmy?  I don't have an ugly
patch of hair on my pussy like you've given me.  I'm sleek and smooth... 
Can you see?" Timmy could see.  In the tangle of his body and his teacher's
legs his head was only inches from her sex.  It was like a huge pink peach,
shining white beyond that tan line that cut her waist.  Mrs.  Hornbeck
spread her thighs wantonly, and the cleft of her peach opened to Timmy, her
fat pussy lips glistening wet and abalone pink.  His nostrils filled with
her perfume, musk and the hint of lemon.  At the top of the folds of her
cunt a bulb stood out, and Tommy was amazed how much it reminded him of a
little dick.  He looked up to see Mrs.  Hornbeck gazing down at him, a
smile on her ruby red lips.  "See, Timmy?  Much different than the brutish
bush you gave me." She rolled her chair so her pussy was suddenly pushed
into the boy's beardless face.  His surprise gave way to curiosity and
lust, and he kissed her sex.  "That's right, boy, kiss me.  Use your
tongue...  Ahhhh, yesssss.  That bit at the top is my clit, suck it like
you did my big toe, you little footslut..." Timmy's ears burned.  His heart
raced and his mouth became dry, but not for long.  When he pressed his open
mouth on Mrs.  Hornbeck's gaping cunt she filled his dry gullet with a
steady ooze of pussy nectar.  He swallowed and licked.  Timmy shook his
head back and forth, amazed as his teacher's sex opened up for me.  His
whole face became slick and wet from her hole.  Using his lustfilled
imagination he pretended his tongue was his cock, and drove it as far as he
could up the velvety flesh ribbed tunnel of her pussy.  She moaned, and
caught his hair with a hand, cruelly pulling him into her.  "You do that
nice, boy.  Teacher's going to cum all over your face...  Ahhh... 
Unhhhh..." Suddenly Ellen's thighs clenched around Timmy's head, and he
felt as if he'd been caught in a vice.  Then her pussy unleashed a torrent
of sex ichor into his waiting mouth.  Then Mrs.  Hornbeck pushed her
student away from her, back into the cubby hole beneath her desk.  She
gasped, breathing through her mouth, and brought her feet together in
Timmy's lap She caught his dick between the soles of her perfect feet.  She
commenced a steady persistent rhythm, and was delighted when his hips
bucked in concert with her efforts.  "I want you to cum now, Timmy, cum all
over teacher's feet..." "Yes, yes, yes..." Timmy was out of his mind.  The
sensation of Mrs.  Hornbeck's soft soles rubbing and tormenting his dick
was better than any handjob he'd ever given himself.  He'd never felt so
hard, so horny.  His nasty teacher had let him taste her pussy, had smashed
his face into it, and now she was fucking him with her perfect feet.  He
was in heaven.  His eyes rolled into his lolling head and he pumped against
her with complete abandon.  Ellen had pushed back a bit from the desk, she
had to watch.  Her golden brown arches dwarfed the boy's cock, big as it
was, and she jacked him from its hairless base to the bulging crown, which
shined hard and purple like a plum.  She dropped one foot to the floor
beneath his balls, pressing him into his belly with the other.  She
mercilessly rubbed the shaft of his dick beneath the head while running the
tops of the toes of her other feet roughly into his nutsack.  She sought
the sensitive spot right behind his balls, massaging his prostrate.  The
teacher stretched until she felt her toe against his puckered asshole, and
she pushed against it until she felt it yield under her pressure.  She
jammed her toe in Timmy's tight rectum, and felt it gather and pulse around
her.  "I...  I...  I...." He never finished the sentence.  His boydick
stiffened and shot a string of white cum straight into the air, and Ellen
jacked him between her toes, coaxing five more spurts out of him as he
shuddered under her.  She continued to rub him, even though she knew this
was torment for him in his oversensitive post orgasmic state.  He began to
soften, and he would have pulled away but the alcove that was his prison
gave him no route to escape.  Ellen turned the ankle of the foot that
brought the boy off this way and that, admiring the thick coat of spunk he
put there.  His cum began to ooze and slide off the outside of her sole,
but she quickly caught it with her other foot,and rubbed the boyjuice into
the skin of her soles.  Timmy just stared at this display, his dick half
hard and jerking.  "Now, Timmy, I want you to clean my feet with your
mouth. Do you understand?" He did, and the instruction left him queasy. 
Eating his own spunk, this was too nasty.  But he gulped, and she brought
her feet up to his mouth together, toes pointed.  I big drip of his sperm
began to form at the end of her toes, and Ellen gasped when she saw Timmy
dip his head so he could catch it with the tip of his extended tongue.  The
salacious teacher let him clean her for ten minutes, then had him hand her
her panties.  Yes, he was a natural little foot slut.  As he straightened
himself out, and crawled out from under her desk, Ellen Hornbeck's
inventive filthy mind had shifted into overdrive with plots and schemes for
Timmy's future use and employment.  She handed him his binder, excused him,
unlocking the door to let him slink out, and then sat down at her desk and
ruminated on the afternoon's events with her hand buried in her pussy.

   II.

   Timmy's mother studied her son as he walked toward the car in the early
summer sunshine.  He squinted, dark circles around his light blue eyes. 
Debra Rowe was used to her son's mutable moods, but the last few weeks he
seemed uniformly distresssed and depressed.  She wondered if summer school
was such a good idea after all.  Timmy slouched in the back seat, and Debra
adjusted the rear view mirror so she could make eye contact with him when
she talked.  She rarely go a chance to talk to him lately.  As soon as her
son returned from school he locked himself in his room, appearing only to
eat supper.  "Are you ok, honey?" She asked.  "Sure mom, just a little
tired is all." Debra put the BMW in gear, and backed up their suburban
driveway.  "Well, you're almost finished.  Then you can sleep in the rest
of summer..." Timmy wasn't paying attention to his mother.  He spent nearly
every waking moment daydreaming about his biology teacher, Mrs.  Hornbeck.
Since the first day of summer school he'd been her homeroom foot slut. 
Everyday after class the statuesque brunette who ruled his dreams locked
the door and had him fold up beneath her desk and fed him her feet.  She'd
basically repeated the major themes of their first encounter, allowing his
mouth free access to her feet, legs, and sex, and then masterbating him to
copious spumings with her soles.  He'd asked her one day to jack him off
with her hand, a fantasy he'd developed late at night as he stroked
himself, and she'd slapped his face with the broad palm of her hand. 
"Forget it!  That nasty dick of yours belongs under my heels, and that's
where its going to stay." He acquiesced without comment.  She was right, he
was a disgusting worm who deserved nothing from her, who was lucky beyond
belief that she let him lick her in the first place.  He felt as if
everything were wrong, but he felt powerless to extricate himself.  "Ok,
honey, here we are." His mother woke him from his reverie, and he slowly
rose from the backseat and ambled into the school.  Debra watched him and
sighed.  Something was wrong.  She drove straight home and walked to her
son's room.  She thought of herself as a progressive parent, the more so
since the divorce.  She gave her son the space she felt he needed as an
unusually shy and sensitive boy.  Perhaps she'd been too distant.  She'd
gone back to work last year to augment her alimony, and after several years
as a semi-recluse, her social life had taken off as well.  Debra Rowe was a
young forty years old, a bouncy blonde with an oppulent figure who
attracted a lot of comeons and propositions.  She'd been "dating" a lot
recently, mostly men she met through the real estate office.  She felt a
stab of guilt that while she' been out letting strange men paw her size 36d
tits and casually sucking her client's cocks her son had become a junkie!
She looked around Timmy's room, noting nothing out of the ordinary except
the smell...  It reminded her of a subway tunnel, musky and funky.  She'd
notice a lot of suspicious stains on his jockey shorts lately, but that was
certainly normal for a teenage boy, as well as the crusts on his sheets. 
Masturbating wasn't what was wrong with Timmy, but there was the spectre of
drugs in the back of Debra's mind.  She didn't enjoy being a snoop, but
felt it was an unpleasant duty and so she methodically looked through his
closet.  Nothing.  Then his desk.  She shifted through the piles of loose
paper in the drawers.  She smiled.  Debra appreciated Timmy's native talent
as an artist, she'd always encouraged him.  The drawings he kept in his
desk were all copies he'd made of pinup girls and centerfolds.  She
shuffled through them all, no joints or suspicious little baggies in there.
Timmy's mother sighed a deep relaxing breath.  Remembering the Just Say No
workshop she'd had to attend the year before, when Timmy had begun middle
school, she walked to her son's bed and stuck her hand beneath his
mattress. Uh oh.  She felt a plastic tube and something else.  Debra lifted
the mattress.  There, in Timmy's most private hiding place, was another
stack of drawings and a tube of Vaseline Intensive Care lotion.  Debra
blinked at these drawings, which weren't the innocent sketches of
cheerleaders he kept in his desk.  These were detailed drawings of feet,
dozens of them.  Worse, there were drawings of spread thighs and incredibly
realistic pussies.  The bottom of the pile of papers was all stuck
together, and Debra knew the glue was her son's boyseed.  She carefully
pried the pages apart and gasped.  These pages, the ones that evidently
excited her thirteen year old son the most, were his drawing of lady feet
rubbing and punishing penises.  Debra sat down on her son's bed, her head
swimming.  Her son had created these, these pencil and ink drawings of
cocks spurting dollops of sperm on some woman's foot, a foot that looked
alien and remote against the obviously urgent and vibrant life of the dick
pictured next to it.  Debra had never done anything anyone would have
remotely considered kinky.  Sure, she sucked and fucked with the best of
them, and no one would have accused her of prudery.  But this was so
perverse!  The more so because the artist was her own boy!  And the theme,
a penis subservient to a woman's foot, disturbed her.  She realized that
her own sex life could be viewed as somewhat submissive, in that she never
demanded pleasure from her ex-husband or the sporadic men she'd dated in
the five years since they'd separated.  She studied her son's drawings and
realized that part of her disquiet was sexual arousal.  She had a deep heat
welling in her belly, and began to feel damp in her slim black bikini
panties.  Her hand drifted up her leg, and before she knew exactly what she
was doing, she was rubbing her petite pussy through her panties, her
sundress pulled high on her waist.  No pornography she'd ever perused in
her limitted experience had ever turned her on like the lewd drawings she'd
found under her son's mattress.  "Ooooooh" She wished she could dandle the
thick cock in the pictures between her slim fingers.  Her mouth watered. 
She'd give that dick a warmer and wetter place to cum, either in her mouth
or in her pink soft pussy.  She shuddered hard, and growled.  Her fingers
pushed her panties aside and she pumped herself with two digits.  She
leafed through the drawings as she thrummed the inside of her cunt with her
meticulously manicured fingertips.  Debra ogled yet another drawing of a
woman's foot, glazed with cum, but in this one Timmy had put himself in the
picture, his face hovering over the pool of jizz, his tongue extended.  His
mother groaned.  She wanted some stud kneeling at her feet, drooling over
her toes, completely devoted to her pleasure.  Debra came to the
realization she didn't want just any man worshipping her body, she wanted
Timmy.  The desire and erotic energy her son had put on paper charged
through her eyes straight to her womb and dripped around her busy fingers.
She pulled her plump thighs up to her chest and dug her hand deep in her
womb.  Oh God, how she wanted what was in those pictures.  She came in hard
gasps, her knees pumping into her full tits.  She wanted her son to lick
her all over, just like in the picture.  Then Debra slowly uncoiled and lay
on her son's bed, his pencil drawings arrayed around the nimbus of her
strawberry blond hair, her eyes unfocused.  She took stock, laying there
staring at the ceiling.  She'd found no drugs.  So far so good.  She'd
discovered Timmy's secret masterbatory stash.  Debra wondered if she should
talk to him about it.  How?  Then she wondered at herself, an apparently
normal suburban mother who had just gotten off to a fantasy of her son
worshipping her feet.  No, I'd better just pretend I never saw these.  She
replaced the stack of crumpled obscene art back under the mattress.  Debra
Rowe smoothed the covers down, adjusted her panties, and closed the door to
Timmy's room.

  
*************************************************************************

   Timmy walked home slowly, weighted with dread.  Today had been one of
those days when Mrs.  Hornbeck had refused to bring him to orgasm
althogether.  She really seemed to get a kick out of his discomfort.  He'd
spent at least a half an hour with his head buried beneath her skirt,
lapping her pussy and sucking her clit through the wet fabric of her
panties.  She had him lay beneath her desk with his dick sticking out of
his fly, but made no move to touch it.  He knew better than to ask her
about it, she made him see stars with her stentorious slaps.  He hoped his
mom was out showing a house or something, so he could just go straight to
his room and take care of himself.  He walked around the back of his ranch
style house with his head down and heavy, he didn't have the key to the
front door and could let himself in through the slider that led to the
pool. "Hi, Timmy!" his mother called out.  She was sunning herself on the
patio, leaning back into a lounge chair.  "Uh, hi mom." He tried to slink
into the house, but his mom's voice followed him.  "Why don't you get your
trunks on.  The pool needs cleaning." "Mom!  Now?" "Yes, now, young man..."
Timmy sighed.  Mrs.  Rowe felt giddy, she'd been out in the sun sipping
cranberry juice and vodka for the last hour and a half.  She was normally
very moderate in her tanning, but she was luxuriating in the feeling of
heat from the the alcohol and sun.  The only lines that creased her face
were tiny laugh lines at the corners of her eyes, and she wanted to keep it
that way.  She watched as Timmy emerged from the house with a pair of baggy
trunks on.  He grabbed the long handled net and started to skim the
magnolia leaves from the pool.  Debra Rowe felt a strange warmth in her
womb as she watched her son.  She licked the corner of her mouth, she could
see his cock bouncing against the loose fabric of his trunks.  Timmy
emptied the net by shaking the detritus he collected out behind a juniper
hedge.  He smiled at his mom, who was looking at him work with her eyes
shaded from the bright sun by her hand.  She was swinging one of her legs
back and forth, and Timmy found his own eyes drawn to the crotch her black
bikini.  He'd never paid much mind to his mom's body, she was his mom after
all, but after the workouts his biology teacher put him through his sexual
antennae were sensitive and alert.  His mom was kind of hot, he decided,
and then stuffed that thought deep within, where he hid his shameful stuff.
His mind began to spiral when he thought, maybe I'll draw mom later.  But
to do that, I'll have to study her a bit more.  His dick fattened and began
to bob around in his shorts.  Timmy quickly reached down and stuffed it
down his leg.  Debra Rowe noticed her son's adjustment.  It looked like a
small animal had been let loose in his trunks, and Debra knew it was
Timmy's cock in the first flush of arousal.  Oh Timmy!  She couldn't
believe how hot checking out her son's basket was making her.  At last he
walked over close to her, grabbed a towel that was spread out to dry on one
of the patio chairs, fanned it out, and lay face down on the pool deck. 
Debra sat up and folded her chair so it stayed upright.  She looked down at
her supine teenage child.  Then she grabbed a bottle of suntan lotion she
stashed beneath her chair.  "Hey, Timmy.  Could you help me with this
lotion?" "Sure, mom", he sighed sleepily.  He sat up.  Debra smiled with
satisfaction as she saw the front of his baggies tented by his full
erection.  She handed him the bottle and leaned back, her hands behind her
head, her tits thrust out.  Timmy Rowe looked at his mother, mouth agape.
Her nipples were hard and pushing out against the fabric of her black
bikini bra.  Their tips were like little thumbs.  He was getting shaky, and
asked tentatively, "Where do you want me to start?" "Oh, how about my
feet..." She scooted her chair closer to him and plopped her bare feet into
his lap, just short of his crotch.  Timmy gulped.  He turned the bottle of
lotion upside down and squirted a glop into his palm.  Then he took hold of
his mother's right foot and began to massage the lotion into the top of her
foot.  "Rub some on my soles, too, please." He squeezed more goop from the
bottle directly to her ankles, and rubbed in narrow slow circles.  He used
all his will to keep his breathing even as he used all the tricks Mrs. 
Hornbeck had taught him on his own mother.  He raked her soles lightly with
his fingernails, knowing just when to relent before he tickled his mother.
He entwined his fingers, slick with lotion, with her toes.  Debra's feet
were very warm from the sun, and they felt heavenly to her son.  "Mmmmmmm,
that's yummy, Timmy, where on earth did you learn to give such a good foot
massage..." Timmy took her big toe between his thumb and forefinger and
moved it in an oval, loosening it up.  He moved on to her other toes,
repeating his motions.  He looked longingly down, wishing he could take her
in his mouth.  Timmy wanted to give his mother the same pleasure he'd given
his teacher.  He wanted to be mom's footslut too.  He touched the secret
places his biology teacher had shown him, the accupressure spots that
corresponded to pleasure centers throughout Debra's body.  When he kneaded
the spot correlating to her sex, she moaned.  God, he was good, she tought.
Her groin flushed and her pussy lips unfolded against the crotch panel of
her bikini bottoms like a flower.  "Now the other one, Timmy." He carefully
placed the foot he'd been massaging on his lap and gently picked up the
other.  Debra arched her back in sensual approval, and when she did she
slid forward just enough to jam the foot her son held in his lap against
the hard shaft of his penis.  He flinched and tried to pull back, but Debra
pushed again, and he surrendered.  Timmy's mom mewled as her foot explored
her son's dick through his swimming trunks.  He was so big, as big as a
man, but she didn't know any men who would treat her so well, who would sit
at her feet and relax her while she felt him up with the ball of her foot.
Timmy said with a quavering voice, "I'm going to cum if you keep doing
that, mom." "I wanna see it, Timmy, pull it out for me." He scooted out of
his baggies.  Debra hummed, "Mmmmmm, Timmy, your cock is so fucking big!"
His ears burned.  His mom was sitting there admiring his weiner.  She
reached behind her and untied her bikini bra, letting her heavy full rosy
tits fall out.  Debra was a bit on the heavy side, but this only served to
accentuate her curves.  Timmy had never seen a sexier woman than his
mother. "Move back, Timmy, give your mom some room on that towel." She got
up out of the lounge chair, and shucked her bikini bottom off.  She sat on
the towel on the pool deck facing her son, her knees up, and began to run
both of her feet, slick with lotion, over her son's bright red penis. 
Debra used a walking motion, starting one foot at the bulbous head then
sliding down to his hard balls.  By the time one foot had reached his nuts,
she'd started again with her other.  Timmy's hissed.  Mrs.  Hornbeck had
never done this, and he was going wild.  "Does that feel good, Timmy?  Tell
your mom how good her feet feel on your big hard cock." Debra's hand
churned her clit, and she loved the nasty thrill it gave her as her son
stared goggle eyed as she masterbated.  "Do you like to watch me play with
my pussy, Timmy?  I like you watching, it makes me sooooo wet." "Oooooooh
mommmmm, yessssssssss!" He leaned back and his hips pumped against her
feet. Debra felt the tensing in his nuts and in his dick and she bent
toward him.  She brought both of the balls of her feet down on his nuts,
mercilessly pushing them into the towel.  Her son's cock pulsed wildly back
and forth, and then he came, in a thick string that shot out and hit the
corrugated rosey tip of her nipple and hung there in a nasty drip.  Another
rope erupted from the peehole of Timmy's distended prick and rose in a
heavy arch to land in Debra's trim pubes.  A last spasm dribbled out of
him, coating his cock and oozing down to her toes.  Timmy's mom fell back
as her own climax hit her, her fingers working feverishly in the fleshy
fold of her cunt.  They both lay back, panting.  Debra straightened her
full pneumatic legs and draped her thighs on top of her son's.  Timmy
followed suit, working a charley horse out of his calf.  Debra stared into
the clear turquoise summer sky, and said, "Timmy, sit up please." He
clambered up, and found that when he did his dick, which had the youthful
ability to stay rock hard after cumming, was sticking straight up with the
underside rasped by his mother's bikini-trimmed pubic hair.  He looked at
her pussy, drenched in his jizz, and gulped loudly.  "You've gotten your
cum all over me, Timmy." She reached down and put her left hand, which
still wore the wedding band despite the divorce, on the top of Timmy's
thick veined cock.  She pushed it down so that it spread the fat pink lips
of her cunt.  She felt him jerking in her hand as she cocked her hips so
her clit rubbed against the ridge along the underside of her thirteen year
old boy's erection.  Debra took her free hand and dipped her fingers in the
puddle of sperm that lay on the flushed skin in the deep crevass between
her swaying tits.  She rubbed the boyjuice into her decolletage, then to
the dark round aureole, finally twiddling the slime into her baby finger
sized nipple.  It was so thick, her son's seed, when she took her fingers
away a string of it clung between her long scarlet fingernail and the
distended erect nipple.  She pulled away until the thread of spunk broke
and dropped to her rounded belly.  Putting her fingers on Timmy's lips, she
forced them apart and watched in ecstacy as he licked and sucked, taking to
his own sperm as it were chocolate sauce.  Debra was pushing the limits,
going for the whole fantasy she'd created when she'd found her son's
personal jack-off art collection that morning.  She knew he'd do anything
she asked at this point, and planned to spend the rest of the summer giving
him dirty tasks to fulfill.  She took back her fingers, and watched a
reverse string of Timmy's cock sauce pull from his lips.  Debra ground her
splayed cunt against her son's outrageously hard boner as she cupped her
huge breast and raised it to her son's mouth.  "Suck the cum off my
titties, Timmy..." Her son stuck the tip of his tongue out and moved it
around and around her wrinkled dusty rose colored nipple.  She pulled his
head into her breast, and cried out as Timmy opened his mouth wide to take
it in.  He washed her clean of his boycum, and then was offered her other
breast.  As Timmy nibbled and sucked her teat Debra remembered the secret
excitement she'd felt as he'd breast fed from her as a baby.  She loved to
feed him her milk engorged tits, even in the dead of night awakened from a
deep sleep, because as he fussed and sucked she always came in sharp little
waves unlike any other orgasms she'd ever had.  These same pangs shuddered
through her as her big boy Timmy sucked her nipples so hard they tingled.
Combined with the delightful friction of her son's cock against her hard
engorged clit, Debra was panting through clenched teeth.  Debra pulled her
breast from Timmy's mouth, leaned back a bit, and pushed his thick cock
down, spreading her cleft.  She aimed him right at her center, and raised
her ass just enough that when she moved closer to him once more she felt
his vein ribbed boner sink deep inside her.  She hooked her ankles around
his back, holding him still.  "Don't move, Timmy, don't you move." She
positioned herself so clit rubbed against Timmy's hairless groin.  The
fullness of her son's cock inside her and the soft but insistent friction
on her clit put her over the edge.  She moved her hips in tight circles,
grunting into Timmy's ear.  Timmy couldn't believe the sensations inside
his mother's pussy.  Without moving a muscle he clung to his mom as her
turbulent orgasms made the ribbed walls of her cunt grip and relax him so
strongly it almost hurt too much to bear.  His natural reaction to this
onslaught was to retreat and protect his sensitive manhood, somewhat raw
from the incomparable footjob his mom had given him earlier, but her strong
legs held him in a tight clench.  Timmy was almost crying in pain, in
pleasure, in the two inexorable and inextricably woven together.  Debra
felt him enlarge, in amazement she felt the crown of her son's dick inside
her throbbing and growing.  She had passed the crest of her last batch of
orgasms, and now wanted to change the pace.  Unlocking the hold of her
legs,Debra pushed her son Timmy on his back without releasing his prick
from her sex.  She dug her heels into the towel next to his elbows, and
used the leverage of her plump silky legs to bounce up and down on him. 
She held herself up by her hands and feet, touching him only with her
pussy. Debra pulled up so that he almost fell out, then slid down his pole
until she once more bumped her clit on his pubic bone.  She repeated this
move, over and over, giving herself a steady long-dicking.  Debra speedened
her thrusts, she wanted to feel her son's cock burst inside her.  "Cum for
mommy, cum inside my big old pussy, Timmy, fill me up with your fuck
juice..." She chanted obscenities to her son, enflaming him.  He was
lifting his ass to meet her strokes, violently thrashing and thrusting, his
calves and thighs taut as iron bars.  He was entranced, by his mother's
filthy mouth, by her big bouncing tits, but most of all by her pussy,
framed by short trimmed blond hair and hot as an oven around his stiff sore
dick.  Ungh...  ungh...  ungh...  I'm...  I'm...  Cummmmmming...." He cried
out.  And he did, so hard and so fast if he hadn't been nestled deep in the
folds of his mother's cunt he felt he would have shot jizz over the roof of
the house.  The velocity and force of his cum burned his urethra.  He
bucked wildly and nearly threw his mom off onto the cement of the pool
deck, but she brutally ground her cunt down on him, forcing him back to the
ground.  Debra felt the cum building in Timmy's prick, but it surprised her
with its power.  It sprayed out of the tip of his cock and splashed against
her uterus, as if someone had jammed a garden hose up her.  She held him
with a tight pussy monkey grip as his pulsed and spumed. 
"OOooooooooooohhhhhh Gooooooooodddd!" She heard the voice and only after
the cry quietened did she realize it had been her own voice.  She fell
back, exhausted, her ass resting between Timmy's thighs.  They were still
joined by their genitals, Timmy was still hard and held tight in her
vagina. Now it was her turn to pull back from the overly sensitive
sensation.  She slid her son out of her.  His chafed and chastened cock
snapped up and slapped against his belly.  Debra gazed at it thirstily,
then thought better of it.  Plenty of time for that.  Timmy was now her sex
slave, and she let vague and wild plans dance through her head as she
looked at his adolescent form sprawled on the ground between her thighs. 
She delightedly bounced her knees together a few times and smiled.  She
felt her son's discharge begin to seep out of her blood filled labia, and
decided to do something about it.  She rolled forward, sat on Timmy's
thighs, and then crawled up his body, leaving a trail of cunt lube and boy
splooge from his hip to his chest.  Debra planted a knee on either side of
her son's ears, and said, "Open wide, baby, mommy has something for you."
As Timmy opened his eyes and blinked at the sight of his mother's
cum-filled cunt lowering down on his face, he silently thanked his biology
teacher, Mrs.  Hornbeck, who'd patiently taught him everything he knew
about pleasing a woman.  He kissed his mother's wide open sex and worked to
swallow the copious load of his own cum mixed with pussy juice and nearly
wept for joy.



   The end