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Making Babies: Ola Ray 
by Geminiguy (geminiguy7.hotmail.co.uk@gmail.com)

***

My 10th "Making Babies" entry. I'd been a teacher a 
long time, but I never met a student quite like her. 
(M/f, ped, reluc, cheat, intr, celeb-parody)

***

Author's Note: I'm trying to remember if it was while 
I was finishing writing "A Thriller Reunion" or after 
I finished posting it that I came up with this story 
idea... In any case, I realized when Ola Ray was 
walking down that High School hallway; the young 
future football hero couldn't have been the only one 
to take notice of the vivacious Black girl... Which 
made me think an encounter with Ola Ray in 1974 would 
making a hot entry in my "Making Babies" story 
series. G

***

[1974]

I was new at the small St. Louis, Missouri High 
School. Not that I was new to Academics. I was 
teaching 3rd graders back in the state that I'd been 
born and raised when I met my future wife. She was 
just starting out teaching at the nearby University. 
We hit it right off. The sex was hot - still is - but 
the chemistry was hotter.
 
I proposed to her three months later.

It didn't bother me that my future wife made more 
money than I did, and she wasn't the kind of woman 
that let that be an issue in her favor either.

In any case, we both made enough to rent a nice 
enough apartment. That done, our next goal was to 
start making babies. My wife hoped for at least two. 
Two sounded like a reasonable number. I have lots of 
friends were started in their teens and now have four 
children or more. So I've seen how out of control 
THAT can be. And I made sure my wife met those 
friends so she knew as well as I did.

So we got at it a after some time she did get 
pregnant. She gave birth to a baby girl. Three years 
later our second child was a boy.

Money was just a little tight after our first child 
was born. But when our second was born my wife was 
making more money with a more stable position at the 
University.

Then when our daughter was about to start 1st grade, 
my wife received an offer she couldn't refuse. And I 
was fully supportive of her on it.

My wife was offered a higher position at a 
prestigious University near St. Louis. They wanted 
her so bad they promised her tenure in five years. In 
writing.

So we moved and put a down payment on a house in St. 
Louis with the money we'd been able to save after our 
son was born.

The Dean at the University was kind enough to let me 
know about an opening at a local High School. It 
already paid more than what I was getting but a word 
from the Dean got me even more money.

I had expected teaching High School students would be 
difficult compared to 2nd graders, but it wasn't so 
bad. And I got to focus on only one subject in class 
instead of all subjects like I'd been doing.

Most of the teachers there were a lot older than me, 
so I guess the students found me more relatable and 
we did have some things in common, like our tastes in 
Rock music.

One thing that was different at this High School was 
the cultural mix. Where I came from, everyone was 
White. Here, it was almost an equal mix of White, 
Black.

There was a good percentage of Hispanics as well.

For some reason, the Black population of the school 
seemed to be all male. At least that is until the day 
I saw her. She was the hottest female I ever saw 
[with apologies to my wife if she could read my 
thoughts].

She was maybe a foot shorter than me, with long, 
curly jet black hair, dark eyes and large breasts 
ready to burst out of her tight t-shirt.

I heard a freshman ask one of the Jocks who she was. 
I was too busy watching the hot Black girl to look at 
the students I was eavesdropping on, but I heard the 
Jock soon reply "A Freshman name Ola Ray. I heard she 
tried out for the cheerleader squad."

Right away I thought that was the sexiest name I ever 
heard in my life. As she passed I took a good look at 
her butt. It was so womanly for a fourteen year old 
girl, and looked ready to burst out of her jeans more 
than her breasts had under the t-shirt.

I had Miss Ray in one of my classes. I went out of my 
way to compliment her whenever I could.

Without the rest of the class noticing of course. 
Don't want to get complaints of favoritism.

Mostly I'd put some little extra notes on her tests 
and homework assignments letting her know how well 
she did, which she'd always thank me for later, with 
a wide smile and a little embarrassment. If the class 
was working on something [other than a test or quiz] 
and I was walking up and down the aisles to look over 
their work, I'd make sure I stopped at Miss Ray's 
desk [and other students so none would realize my 
true motive, though I'd stay over her shoulder 
longer] and make some excuse to whisper in her ear 
about what she was working on while placing my hand 
on her shoulder. She always smelled very nice, 
especially her hair.

Sometimes I'd compliment her on something she'd be 
wearing, if she was the last one out at the end of 
class. She was really eating up my compliments, 
enjoying the attention though she would still be a 
little embarrassed each time.

Miss Ray must have felt some kind of bond, because 
she'd approach me after class or at other times 
during the school day to ask or talk to me about 
something not related to the class. Of course I was 
happy to encourage her, to strengthen the bond.

There'd been a few times after school she'd approach 
me sheepishly to tell me she missed her bus and ask 
me for a ride home. She must really have trusted and 
liked me to want a ride home from me. Which I always 
gladly gave.

I'd make sure to accidentally place my hand on her 
upper thigh in her tight jeans. I even gave it a 
squeeze once, it felt so firm. Miss Ray giggled and 
gently removed my hand.

After several rides, she started thanking me with a 
hug, pressing her large breast into me. Once I 
slipped her a kiss, on the cheek. She looked slightly 
uncomfortable, but only smiled after.

The next time she hugged me I kissed her on the lips. 
Miss Ray looked more uncomfortable but again didn't 
say a thing.

But when I groped one of her large breasts the 
following time as I kissed her she got upset.

"No... Please don't do that..." Miss Ray said, 
turning her head away from my kiss and pulling my 
hand off of her breast. She leaped out of the car and 
ran into her house.

That was last Friday. Today the High School was 
closed but the University wasn't, so my wife had her 
classes nor was our daughter's school closed. I could 
have sent our son to the daycare and enjoy my day off 
but decided to spend some time with him.

The doorbell rang unexpectedly. I had assumed if 
something was wrong with my wife or daughter I'd get 
a call, so I wondered who it could be...

I went and answered the door, carrying my son with 
me.

"Miss Ray," I said in surprise. "Good morning!"

"Good morning, Mr. Geminelli," She said shyly, hands 
in her back pockets, causing her large breasts to 
thrust out more.

"Call me Jim. We're not at school," I smiled.

"I guess you can call me Ola," She said shyly. "Since 
we're not at school and all..."

"Do you want to come in, Ola?" I invited.

"Thank you," She smiled as she slipped in and I 
closed the door.

"You're married," She blurted out. Then she looked 
embarrassed again and looked away.

"I am," I replied. "Let me put him down for a nap."

Ola followed me as I headed to the living room where 
the playpen was and laid my son in it. He yawned and 
closed his eyes quietly.

We slipped out of the room and I lead her back to my 
study, closing the door behind us. I motioned to the 
seat leather sofa in one corner.

"Thank you," Ola said, sitting in the middle. I sat 
down beside her and she moved away from me.

"You're very welcome," I smiled. "So what can I help 
you with?"

"If you're married why are you interested in me?" She 
blurted out again.

"Is that why you came here?"

Ola looked more embarrassed and very uncomfortable, 
moving further away from me.

"No, it's not that! Well, not exactly," Ola began, 
hesitating. Then, "I didn't even know you were 
married until I came here!"

"It's all right, Ola," I said, placing my hand on her 
shoulder.

She started to pull away but instead through herself 
into my arms and started crying heavily.

I wasn't sure what brought that on, so I just held 
her, patting her back. Ola sagged against me as she 
let it all out.

Finally the flow of tears slowed and she seemed to be 
calming down.

"Do want some tea or something?" I asked, starting to 
get up. "I can -"

"J - just hold me!" She choked, breathing heavy after 
all that crying.

"All right," I said.

"I'm sorry," She said.

"What for?"

"For putting all this on you," She sniffed.

I chuckled. "Putting what on me?" I asked.

Ola looked up at me. "I wasn't sure why I felt I had 
to come here. I was so confused by your attention to 
me, and I trust you and had to talk to SOMEONE about 
what's been troubling me. And now to find out you're 
married..."

"Slow down," I said softly. "Why does my being 
married bother you?"

"Because I can tell you want me! But you're married, 
Mr. Geminelli...Jim..."

"So?" I asked.

"I admit, I've never cheated on my wife before, never 
mind thought about another woman. But the day I saw 
you..."

Ola smiled. "Th-thank you..."

"You're so welcome, sweetie," I answered, kissing her 
forehead. "So why are you confused about my attention 
towards you?"

Ola seemed to hesitate. Then she took a deep breath. 
"It's because of what happened to me before..."

I didn't ask what happened. I didn't want to rush 
Ola. Let her tell me when she's ready.

Finally she said "When I was nine I had an uncle I 
loved and trusted. I thought he was the greatest man 
alive. Then... Then he r - raped me. He was so 
vicious and monstrous. I thought he loved me too. He 
was just a pervert who lusted after my young body..."

"I am so sorry, Ola..." I said softly, shocked to 
hear it.

"He kept on raping me whenever he could get me alone. 
He told me I could never tell anyone. He said people 
would say I was a little slut, a little whore, and I 
wanted him to fuck me like that, teasing him with my 
early-developed breasts and butt.

He said my family would hate me, and through me out 
onto the street, disown me. And I believed everything 
he said. Every word of it. So I never told. And let 
him do it again and again.

And then he was killed in a terrible car crash with a 
drunk driver. The drunk driver lived and got away, 
and everyone was angry at home. But I wasn't. I was 
glad he killed that perverted bastard! I was glad he 
was fucking dead!"

Ola started crying again and I pulled her face 
against my chest, patting it.

"It's all right now," I said soothingly. "You're safe 
now, he's long gone."

"I know..." Ola said as she cried.

"He lied to you," I said. "No one would have blamed 
you. They'd have blamed him. He'd have gone to jail 
for a long, long time, unless someone was angry 
enough to kill him instead. No one would have stopped 
loving you, Ola. Your family would have shown you 
more love and compassion than ever."

"Thank you," Ola said, smiling up at me through her 
tears. "I needed to hear that. Somehow...somehow I 
did know all that.

But I was afraid to believe myself. I needed someone 
to tell me."

Ola pulled herself up and kissed me on the lips. That 
surprised me a lot.

"Can I tell you something?" She whispered.

"You told me so much already, why not?" I smiled.

"Now I think you're the greatest man alive," Ola 
admitted. "And sometimes it scares me..."

"Ola... Ola, I would never rape you. I would never 
force myself on you," I said softly. "I could never 
hurt you ever."

"I know," She smiled kissing me again. "I really 
trust you. More than I ever trusted him. I'm not some 
naive little girl. I've learned from my experience. I 
feel things about you I never did in my uncle. I know 
you're different, I know you really care about me."

"Then why are you scared, Ola?"

"I... I can't stop thinking about the horrible things 
he did to me! They scare the shit out of me! I feel 
like I'm scarred for life..."

"Ola..." I began, looking down at the beautiful girl. 
"You just need a good experience to help start 
diminishing that one."

I leaned down and kissed her. Ola kissed me back 
needily.

"Mmmm, yes... Give me something to make me forget!" 
Ola moaned.

I pulled her up to her feet and began to undress her. 
She let me. When she was naked, I moved back to 
admire her young body. I couldn't help rubbing my 
cock through my jeans. Ola giggled.

She had an amazing body... Her large breasts were 
high and firm, her black areolae large, her nipples 
stiff. Her belly was flat and firm, not muscular but 
tone. Her thighs had just a little jiggle in them, 
and between them her pussy was masked by a vast 
forest of black curls. She took my breath away...

I began to undress myself. Ola admired my athletic 
body.

"My uncle, he was out of shape and fat. And his cock 
wasn't handsome and big like yours," She said, 
reaching out and taking it in her hand.

I felt my face grow hot.

I pulled her into my arms, exploring her large, firm 
butt as I kissed Ola and she started stroking my 
cock.

It throbbed in her hand and began to leak pre-cum.

"I want you know..." She moaned.

"T - take me now!"

I lifted her up. Ola wrapped her legs around my 
waist. I carried her to the couch and laid her on it. 
She was still holding my cock and guided it to her 
wet hole. I sank into it.

Ola head rolled back and she gasped. I slowly pushed 
forward. Her hot, wet pussy enveloped me, inch-by-
inch. I hit the back of her pussy before I got my 
whole cock into her.

I started to move in and out of Ola slowly and 
carefully.

"Faster," She finally said impatiently.

I increased my speed.

"Mmmm, yes... Fuck me! Fuck all those bad thoughts 
out of me! Ohhhhh!"

It wasn't long before Ola was orgasming around my 
cock, her body thrashing under me.

"OHHHH! That bastard never made me feel like this! I 
don't want it to stop!"

I fucked her harder and faster, so Ola could cum over 
and over. I wanted my Black girl to enjoy this and 
never ever forget it.

Ola clung to me tightly as I fucked her, my cock 
slamming in and out of her tight pussy, which just 
grew wetter and wetter.

I lost track of how many times Ola had cum. I held 
back for as long as I could. I finally lost it 
thirty-five minutes later. I grunted and began 
pumping bolt after bolt of hot jizz into Ola's young 
pussy. She clung to me tighter, kissing me as I spurt 
into her eight or nine time.

Finally spent, I lay there in her embrace, both of us 
sweaty and exhausted, out of breath.

She smiled up at me brilliantly.

"How do you feel?" I asked, kissing her.

"Better than I have in a long time," Ola admitted. "I 
think I'm ready to tell my mom what happened to me 
five years ago..."

"Good for you," I said.

The two of us spent the rest of the day fucking up a 
storm. Ola loved sex.

She did tell her mom. And told her of our 
conversation [most of it at least...] but not about 
the fucking thankfully. Her mother had to come by and 
thank me for helping her daughter.

Ola and I continued our affair until her family moved 
away. I never forgot Ola, and I'll always love. I 
never cheated on my wife again. 
 
 
If anything, the whole experience made our sex life 
even hotter.
I never cheated on her again because there was never 
another Ola. She was one of a kind, my soulmate. 
Wherever you are, Ola, I love you... 

THE END

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The author does not condone child abuse, this story 
is meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything
in real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in 
"real life" can look forward to many unproductive 
years getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in 
their local prison system.
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Kristen's collection - Celebrity Parody Archive