Her infatuation with the new world opened up to her by Karen carried Maryon through several months but, when the older girl's parents moved further out from the city, she lost touch. And somehow she couldn't quite bring herself to form another lesbian attachment. It had been… an experience; something to be remembered and put at the back of her mind somewhere. Sapphism was, after all, only a middle course between masturbation and masterbation, or so it seemed to her. Nothing seemed to work completely for her, neither self, boys, or girls. Perhaps the fall, when she would be attending Glenville High, would bring fresher contacts, more mature possibilities…?
But in her classmates at least, she was to be disappointed. Perhaps because she'd attended a nonpublic school hitherto, perhaps because of her natural inward-turning nature – whatever the reason, she found herself cut off from the mainstream of school activities and for her part regarded with some degree of contempt the somewhat unsophisticated attitudes of her peers.
Though she studied hard on her own, her results in tests were poor, and before the semester was over she was marked as bottom of her class. So it was that on a bleak, overcast December afternoon she found herself reporting to the small private office of Mister Hugh Jenner, her Room- and History-Teacher. 'Old Gelid Jenner' they called him behind his back, more from alliteration than accuracy. He was a short, balding man in his early forties, with disappointed eyes behind his rimless glasses and a tag of beard on his chin. His temper knew only two moods… sarcastic, biting humor and long-suffering, patronizing forbearance. As she stood outside his door in her newly-bought, latest-fashionable boots and brown imitation leather micro-mini-skirt, with sleeveless fringed vest to match over a bright yellow turtle-necked sweater, with her books in their strap under one arm, Maryon brushed the fall of blonde hair which she was letting grow again back off her forehead, tired after the day's studies, and wondered which of the two moods he would be in. Maybe, now that school was out and no noisy sounds ringing through the empty corridors, Jenner would be calmer, more human. She hoped so. She was in no mood herself to be upset by some trivial point, and delayed from getting home to a warm house and a hot meal. With a quick look around to see that the place was deserted, she put the books down and ran both hands quickly, strongly up her legs to smooth into place her warm pantyhose.
Bending over thus, she was surprised when Jenner's throaty voice behind her said: "Hhhrrhhmm! Miss Swelt, is it? Come in, come in."
He must have opened the door without making a noise, the quiet creep, she thought, a flush mantling her cheeks as she realized that her short skirt, hiked higher as she'd bent over, must have afforded him an excellent view of her sleek upper thighs. At least! If such views interested him, that is! She trotted dutifully behind him in her high-heeled brown boots and sat in the chair he indicated, alongside his desk. He finished straightening out some papers that lay on it, then looked at her.
"Um… Maryon, is it? Yes… well… uh, Maryon, we don't seem to be making very good progress our first semester, do we?"
Followed, to her boredom, by a recital of her marks, her attitudes as reported by her other teachers, and the areas in which she might hope to make an improvement. She let the words run past her ears, not in the least way interested, until suddenly she realized that he was interested – but in her figure rather than her marks, for he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off the knee of her swinging crossed-over leg or the bulge of her sweater-bound breasts as, when she shifted herself uneasily, they brushed aside the narrow lengths of her loose-hanging vest. Mentally she sat up and began taking notes. She knew she was smart, and didn't much care either for the rigid system of scholastic scorekeeping or the supposed value of it once she quit school and applied herself to a career. But… But! But if she could get herself upgraded through Mr. Hugh Jenner without too much degrading of herself then… why she'd make a little bit of effort to win his commendations. With, she hoped, pleasure! She waited until he'd finished then leaned forward, putting a forlorn look on her face and bridling her breasts so that they hung enticingly out from her. "But I do try, Mister Jenner… I really do. I'm not stupid, it's just that I don't seem to do too well in the tests. I know that I know all that stuff."
"Well, I think you do too, Maryon," said Jenner, the eyes behind his glasses still riveted on her heavy-breathing bust. "I think that you're a smart girl, from what I've seen of you. And I think it's a pity that it's the test marks that count."
"Oh, you do, Mister Jenner!?" said Maryon, sitting up straight and uncrossing her legs. "Well then, perhaps I can come to some arrangement with you. That is, if you really think that the test marks don't do me justice." She had determined on a bold course of action.
"Why, er, yes. I really think that in your case your knowledge, generally, surpasses that of most of the students, and that the system of testing shows you to unfair advantage."
"Then I propose a bargain with you, Mister Jenner," said Maryon, getting up. "Just wait a moment, please." She walked to the door, keeping her thighs close together so that her ass-action would be enhanced beneath the brief brown-leather skirt. Puzzlement was on his face, mixed with a modicum of consternation, as she returned to the desk, pulled the chair nearer to him, and sat down. She leaned an elbow on the corner and regarded him intently from out her big blue eyes. "Mister Jenner," she said, after a moment, "in your history lessons you've rapped a lot about the way the world is run. Sometimes the people want to take some power from the King or whoever's running things. Sometimes a country wants to rip off another so's to get something the others have and they don't. Lots of times more advanced countries would take over a defenseless one and make it a colony, so's they could get markets for their goods. Now, in your lessons you've made a point of saying that in all these kinds of cases it would've been much simpler if, instead of quarreling and going to war about it, people would've just sat down and discussed things, making a trade of what they wanted against what they could get. Like the people give the King the money he needs, and make him a guarantee, and in return they get some power for themselves. Or, two countries get together and set a fair price for whatever the second one has that the first one wants. And the same thing goes with the colony bit, the big country gives the colony – one some help to get on its feet, and in return they get concessions, or whatever, for oil or gold… the things they wanted to invade 'em for. Right? Bargaining is better, right? If two countries, or two people, sit down long enough they'll each find that the other has something they want, even though the thing they are giving doesn't mean that much to them. Maybe that's not too clear. What I'm trying to say is that well… say that in Vietnam they need an industry to bring money in, and give 'em employment and like that, and they decide electronics would be a good thing for them, like it is in Japan, huh? And we, America, want to get them to go along with, uh, the American Way… you know, our kind of Democracy. So, instead of getting into a war about it, we send them a few thousand electronic experts – you know, we've got a lot of 'em out of work, now – and the Government, our Government, pays them a good salary. Well, y'see… the men we send would be happy with the American Way because they're getting paid good by the Government, and so without being taught about propaganda and all that they'll just naturally be good, uh, spokesmen? And the Vietnamese are getting what they want, without a lot of official crap being laid down on 'em? And we save money 'cause we don't have all those soldiers to pay and bullets to throw away, and they save money 'cause they don't have to sell themselves to get the aid, or pay for the education of thousands of engineer students in other countries? Seems to me they both get something for nothing – whatever Mister Griswold in Physics says about the conservation of matter and energy and all that – and they get it because what they give is also a benefit to them. Right?"
Jenner was confused, obviously. But he thought for a moment, then said: "Well, Maryon, it's not quite so simple as that, of course. And I doubt that Roger would quite go along with your Physics' theory. But, yes, there is something in what you say. People should be able to exchange things, and bargain for what they want without losing pride or getting into a fight over it."
"Right on!" said Maryon, taking a deep breath. It was now or never. Perhaps after all she could make use of her rather special background. She reached forward and took his left hand as it lay beside her and, as she spoke, placed it on the warmth of her round, pantyhosed knee. "Mister Jenner, I want to get better marks and I want to try some sex with an older man. You, I kinda reckon, wouldn't mind getting it in me, if you could get away with it, and you wouldn't really think it'd be cheating to give me the marks you think I deserve. What about an exchange? Is it a bargain?"
Her blue eyes flashed and sparkled as she spoke, and she fought hard to keep the color out of her cheeks. It was the first time in her life she'd been so outspoken, and really put it on the line, to herself or anyone. Jenner in his turn went pale and pink and pale again. He swallowed hard.
"You mean… you mean, Miss Swe… Maryon, that you want me to-to…" he broke off in confusion. On her knee his fingers tightened.
Maryon let herself smile intimately at him, comradely, with the suspicion of a wink. She remembered the tales of his wife that were told around the school… her dried-up sexual charge being devoted to good works and social responsibility. A childless couple, Maryon bet that it was mainly because of the woman's hang-ups. Bet also that the poor man had never had it but in the modern-conventional, strictly head-to-head, face-to-face, male-uppermost style. By the wrist she slid his hand over her knee and pushed it between her crossed lower thighs, trapping it. "You know what I mean," she said. "I'll trade my body – and eagerly, too, not like a ten-minute trickster – for your influence. Mark me higher, and do your best to get some of the other teachers to do the same, but not so's you'll screw things up, naturally. Here… I'll give you a quick sample and, whatever happens after, I'll expect at least a B on my next History paper. And don't worry about any thing, I've been on the Pill for months. See, how about this…?"
Maryon had already felt his hand growing hotter through the thin nylon and had observed, with secret amusement, how the front of his pants bulged where his gray suit jacket fell back from him. Moving herself a couple of inches forward and leaning at the same time, she made sure that his fingers were comfortably, comfortingly, snugged in the hot hidden haven of her crotch. With her own left hand she reached over the comer of the desk and spun his swivel chair a quarter to his left so that he directly faced her, then walked her slender fingers up his tight-clad gray thigh until she could flick the swelling growth at the base of his belly. She swiftly unzipped him, and, after a moment or two of struggling with the slit of his jockey shorts, managed to grip his prick and pull it out. She was inwardly delighted at its size and length. He was uncircumcised and his thin foreskin was red with a satin sheen. As she touched him there, appraisingly running a long-nailed finger down its underside and noting with approval its powerful jerk, she felt his fingers stir on her thigh, spreading to span the warm sector of nyloned flesh. His unaccustomed hard-on through his shorts made the rubbery pink-and-white sausage lean over toward the right, and when she grasped it firmly and set it straight, she felt him wince.
"Oh… that hurt you, didn't it?" she said in a soft and sympathetic voice. "Maryon'll fix that for you."
Before he could think to protest – her mind was set on overcoming him with surprise and speed so that it would later be too late to change his mind – she stood up, feeling with mounting excitement the jab of his unexpecting fingers as they were driven momentarily against her pliable young pubic hummock… slid his hand down between her close nylon thighs beneath the upridden skirt, then stepped over his sprawling legs and sat on his right knee, putting her left arm about his neck to hold herself in place. Putting his left hand again on her thigh she took hold of his prick with her right, then leaned in to kiss his astonished lips. At first he seemed to resist, but soon his right arm came about her waist and he responded, quickly opening his mouth as his nubile young instructress nimbly attacked his teeth with her tongue, demanding obvious entrance.
At the same time she ran her circled fingers down his broad length until they reached the cloth of his pants, then slid them in and underneath the material, forcing it back until she could grope through the slit of the shorts and, finally, grasp his warm and fleshy balls, using her slim wrist as a shoehorn to give him an easier purchase for his climbing cock's convenience. A groan went through him as she clutched his cocciferous cockles and gently squeezed, but he abandoned his mouth to her roving tongue and his left hand dragged higher beneath her skirt. She wriggled her butt provocatively on his leg, continuing her squeezing tactic until she felt he was near ready, then slid off and down to the floor between his legs. On this first occasion she wasn't too concerned about her own pleasuring – that could wait for all the other times she now knew were to come her way – but to give him something to do she took both his unresisting hands and, not without a lot of difficulty and squirming about, allowed him to slide them down underneath the tight neck of her sweater and so, beneath her bra, onto her breasts. It was not very comfortable and the blood mounted to her face as she half-strangled, but she didn't expect to be long in this position. Jenner's bent-forward attitude hindered her head movements, too, but she drew in a great breath and, without delay, put her mouth over the end of his prick.
At the back of her mind was the thought that this was the first male she'd ever operated on who was possessed of a regular foreskin, and it pleased her, in a quiet way, that there was something else about his cock, apart from its sheer size in that department, to intrigue her. But she didn't want to spend too much time on this occasion in rapturous investigation. In all of her sexual adventures, this one was to be entirely a job of work.
She began to move her soft red lips slithering from side to side about the outer covering of him, at the same time reaching out with her teeth until she could grip him just around the distended slot which her inquisitive tongue had found for her. She now drove her tongue into that slot, narrowing its point and probing as if she were putting a finger into a glove, feeling him give quick little jerks against her right hand. Encouragingly she squeezed his balls delicately with her left. She let the air come whistling in through the sides of her mouth about him and sucked juicily through her own saliva so that the sound would further stimulate him to quick action. Feeling the veins along the length of his cock beginning to stand out from its rubbery flesh, she kept her dainty white teeth close to the dome and pushed her head down, so that the loose skin of his cock-hood rode up against them and was pushed down from the slick surface beneath as neatly as a peeled banana. A riper, more cheesier taste crept into her mouth, a little over-strong, but gamely she pressed on, letting her long tongue lick and lave about his flesh so that the end of his prick floated around her mouth against the restraining guards of her teeth, propelled by the flat of her twisting little taster. In the cup of her left palm she felt his testicles harden and begin to draw themselves up from the bottom of his pouch and so, opening her jaws to their widest extent, she dropped her head downward until she could palpitate her throat muscles about his naked cock-head.
Under the confines of her bra and sweater, Jenner's hands clutched at her breasts as though he were trying to hold a half-dozen of eggs in each, but so much was this an intellectual exercise with Maryon that her nipples were hardly stirred by his clumsy endeavors.
She started to gulp and chew at him, pulling in her cheeks, grinding her lower jaw-bone, using the whole mechanism of her mouth on him like a horse in a hay-bag, using the suction of her strangled throat to draw him off. After a few seconds of hold-back during which she could sense his conscious mind trying to will him not to impregnate the fresh-faced flush-cheeked golden head buried in his belly like a sophomore succubus, his gray-suited ass sank a little lower in his chair and his rampant cock blew off in her as strong as a sounding whale. A thick and viscous scalding stream broke its force fiercely at the back of her throat and she silently gasped and gulped as he involuntarily snatched one hand from her trapped tit and spanned the top of her head so that she was forced to further engulf his dick and swallow his long-pent load. His prick strained and locked and surgingly swelled in the sudden, shock-shriven salivalessness of her mouth and the steady, relentless pumping of his semen-shed stones pulsated between her hand and her chin.
After a while she felt his prick beginning to go limp in her, the hand on her head relaxed, and against her forehead his breathing was radiated through his belly, ragged and uneven. Jerkily, awkwardly, slowly-quickly the history teacher withdrew his other hand from her breast and she sat back on her heels, head down, getting her breath back, holding his laces for support. A quick look at his face showed him to be in horrified shock so, putting her own feelings aside, she thrust herself to her feet, plunked herself down across his legs, threw both arms about his neck, and passionately began to kiss him, making sure that some of his just-spent cum was painted around the inner walls of his mouth to clench the ceremony. She finally managed to drive conscience and caution from him so that he responded to her lavish, lascivious embraces with the unheeding hotness of a horny hermit.
Maryon had won the battle and the war with one masterly stroke and many mistressly ones.
Though in no way did his conduct in the classroom betray it, Jenner was infatuated with this fantasy girl. So surely, indeed, was his secret erotic imagination inflamed that he made no attempt to take their various encounters out of the context of the 'staying-after-school' situation that had started them, for which Maryon gave many thanks. No pretense of 'love'… no shame-faced offers of money, or gifts, or motel-meetings… no brazen 'let-me-take-you-home-and-introduce-you-to-my-wife' or 'I-have-to-attend-a-seminar-up-State-why-don't-you-come-along-with-me' madnesses.
Maryon deliberately catered to his long-frustrated fantasies, play-acting sometimes the role of little-girl-student, sometimes the bizarre mistress of his imagination. Before long she had him perfectly trained to be her perfect lover to her perfected requirements and satisfaction. She made sure, to receive full benefit from his side of their bargain, that whether their fond fornications were frenzied or frivolous, they were inevitably frequent and full of lingering flavor.
She always tried to surprise him, making no commitment in advance as to exactly when their next clandestine cockunted caper would be. Once she shocked him when, waiting till school was out, she went to the rest room, stripped to her boots, put her clothes in a bag, tightly belted her white trench coat about her, then went to him in his room, immediately dropping the coat so that for the first time he saw her completely nude. Pulling him to his feet, she pulled his clothes off, then rubbed and stroked his dick until at last, unable to resist his impulses, he forced her backward across his desk and ravished her against her pretended remonstrances, her boots kicking him wildly on his backside until at last, carried away, she dug her heels into the crack of his fleshy ass and pulled his cock into her gaping loins.
On another long-remembered occasion, she brought to school her old St. Joan's uniform, now at least three sizes too small for her well-developed figure and, changing into this in the rest room, came to him in the guise of a naive, acquiescent and unknowingly nymphomaniacal schoolgirl about to be punished for her supposed sins. The only change she'd made in her former much-accustomed costume was that she'd ripped off for the occasion a pair of Lois' fancy high-heeled black shoes. The straining height these gave her, together with the shortness of her brown, blue-checked skirt, thrust her smooth, creamy, light-tanned legs into unwonted prominence, while her bra-less breasts stretched the sheer, thin silk of her ruffle-fronted blouse until the buttons were about to burst off it, which fact her neat-knotted brown-and-blue striped tie helped to conceal. Her white, ribbed knee stockings now only just covered her calves and the skirt was tight about her hips, forcing her jaunty honeydew melon-halves of ass enticingly together so that, as she walked to his room, Maryon was automanipulated to randy readiness by the satiny overlapping of her inner thighs. Beneath it the brown panties hugged her as close as rinds to fruit and tingled her breathlessly at waist and crotch by the time-tightened tourniquets of elastic. She'd let her silky blonde hair hang down, with a pair of eye-matching blue clips behind her ears to show them off beneath the wide-brimmed hat that now sat back on her head with its strap beneath her chin, and touched up her lips with a Chinese red stick to make of them a harlot's parody of cherub-like charm. Her blue blazer necessarily unbuttoned, she stood before her Master in simulated submission.
Occasionally she had to step aside from her role so as to guide him in his poverty of perversion. For instance it was only when she remembered her initiation rites and the pleasure that she received from her spanking that she re-realized the pleasure it must afford to the spanker, and so was able to suggest to Jenner that this might be a suitable 'punishment' for her as a wrong-doing school-girl. He needed no more than the hint to get him going.
After berating her for a number of imagined 'crimes', during which monologue she stood with eyes dutifully cast down, he pretended to find a new offense, in that she wasn't conforming to the dress-code of the school. Swiveling his chair sideways, he told her to stand in front of him, parting his legs so that she was between his ankles. "I do believe that, wretched little girl that you are, you're not wearing a brassiere!" he declared. "Show me whether I'm wrong or not, Maryon!"
With fingers that really were trembling, though more from a morbid excitement arising from shivery shame at what she was doing than from actual fear of the consequences, the demure-eyed blonde loosened the knot of her tie slightly, then began to unbutton her frilly-fronted white blouse from the top down, halting every now and then as though asking whether any further. But always an impatient nod of his head would drive her to the next button until finally she must draw the garment out of her tight waistband, undo the last button, and let the thing rest on her heaving bosom. While she stood with hands behind her, he took hold of the blouse's edges and pulled them apart, so that her bare and beautiful breasts in their creamy-white glorious wealth were open to his gaze and touch. "You see!" he said, indicating her bounty in such a way that his fingers stroked her nipples to full and expectant erection. "Since you seem to be shameless I will try to shock you into some sense of shame. Come closer!"
When her bare knees were touching the edge of his seat and she could feel the warmth of his calves against hers, Jenner took hold of the blouse-hem, fastened the lowermost button, and tucked the thing into her skirt again – not forbearing to tickle her flanks and fondle her snug-pantied rear end – but this time in such a way that the frilled white edges circled outside her breasts, pressuring them closer to each other and forming a perfect frame that ran in a diamond shape from the straining top button and tie-knot to follow the curves of her breast's outer contours, run slightly, tightly, under their blossoming overlap, to meet at her waistline, her cute little hole of a navel lending a shadowed period to the erotic design. Maryon's pulse began to race as he pretended to arrange her more shamelessly, jiggling her boobs on his warm palms as he pushed them up and apart with his thumbs caressing the satiny skin on their inner sides.
Forgetting himself for a moment, he lowered his mouth to their centers and excitingly sucked and scraped at her hard red nipples' length and tips so that she was soon eager for him to continue her harassment.
Presently, adopting a 'this'll-hurt-me-more-than-you' tone, he cleared the top of his desk and personally laid her out to his satisfaction. Getting her to face one comer of it, he went around the other side and, taking her cool hands, pulled her forward until, slowly, her aroused nipples touched the cold leather of the top. He made her jostle there a while, knowing this would add to her randiness, making sure they scraped the surface, then lower she was brought until she felt her breasts flattening against the chilled desk. He pulled at her wrists until she could just grasp the far side of the desk, which position lifted her lower body until she was on straining tip-toe, while the comer of the wood pressed pleasurably-painfully on the front of her pelvic girdle, sending sweetly sick shocks up through her belly and into her breathless breasts.
Now he went around behind her and stood for a moment, and she knew he was surveying the pert upward thrust of her posterior, the drawn-up short brown skirt that almost revealed it, and the long, slender length of her legs as they ran childishly out of the high-stretched white socks and enticingly, palely, into the shadows of the skirt's peak. To add to his pleasure, she wriggled her ass… and found to her pleased surprise that this sent fresh waves of arousing anticipation through her slim frame. Deliberately, taking his time, Jenner caught hold of the hem of her skirt and lifted it up over her back, for the first time seeing the curvaceous casing her old brown school panties gave his victim's buttocks, cutting into the deep valley between her cheeks and revealing in every last intimate detail their dimples and rack-stretched planes and hollows on their otherwise perfectly symmetrical globes. He left her like this for a minute and she was about to turn her anxious head to see or ask what he was doing when she felt him up close to her again, and realized with a fresh thrill that he'd stripped, at least part way, for his bare legs were against hers and a soft-heavy truncheon was bouncing against her butt. Then his hands were up under her skirt and his fingers hooked into the top of her panties, pulling slowly down so that again she grew excited as the tight elastic slid between her belly and the skirt and reluctantly left her chubby cheeks to the caress of the air. As the panties were pulled down past her pubic mound where it rested so excruciatingly delightfully on the desk's corner she moaned softly, already manipulated to the point where she thought that a mere touch would send her into orgasm. But she contained herself and let him continue.
The brown panties were now swiftly drawn down her aching legs and over her feet, and now her bare ass was fully exposed in all its vulnerable, up-and-outhrust whiteness beneath the rim of brown skirt. Maryon flinched at the thought of the expected blows on her trembling cheeks… and flinched again for a moment as the first open-handed slap descended an her and drove her thinly-covered clitoral concavity against the hard and pointed corner of the desk. But then, as wonderful waves of weirdly oooohh! – oooohh! – oooohh! – bringing sensation swam powerfully through her stretched body, she began to relax and enjoy. There was something strangely intoxicating about being so wantonly exhibited in this way, for she knew that between her legs the wet and widening red lips of her cunt must be presented to Jenner's view, and the tight brown hole of her ass had to be staring at him with its winking, wrinkle-edged little eye.
She was momentarily disappointed when, after only a dozen or so stinging slaps to her ready rump, he ceased, but then a feverish shiver of exultation flashed throughout her straining torso and lit her moist blue eyes as she felt her ankles firmly grasped and raised so that her knees bumped against the desk's edge. He slid her creased thighs a little along that same edge until her cuntish arena was free of the top altogether, then walked his fingers along the underside of her legs from knee to hip-bone, moving in closer to her until she felt his hot cock tip titillatingly against her lower lips, anxiously pressing for entrance into her. Obligingly she jerked her white little bunny-fanny up and drew her knees apart to pull her languishing labia into a more easily penetrable portal. At the same time his hand slid down and around her smooth thigh to grasp his dick and immediately she quivered as his first inward assault began.
She'd never been taken quite like this, she thought, as she discovered a fresh thrill in having his fleshy belly repeatedly touch the trembling spheres of her spank-flushed buttocks. And when he leaned in over her and slid his hands under her breasts, she went wild with purely selfish sensation which set her to wriggling and writhing and bucking and bumping beneath his welcome weight although, from the stronger strokings of his ravaging rod, he probably thought she was doing it for his benefit. Her chaotic thoughts could not clearly sort the various new diversions this posture offered her, but above all she appreciated most the running rub of his bounding bludgeon as it rode lovingly against the top of her vaginal sheath instead of its lower, more usual layers.
In an ecstasy of exhilaration, Maryon clamped her legs tightly about his naked waist and pumped them like a frog's in water, dragging him into her clenching, grinding orifice until at last he was driving his very roots hard against her firm-fleshed vulva with every frantic thrust. Her nipples were being exuberantly tweaked in the scissoring forks of his frenzied fingers and her breasts moved, expertly controlled by her mammary muscles, to roll and throb sweatily in his hot and fervid embrace. The small crisp sea-anemone at the inner end of her volatile vagina extruded its tendrils of sensation to excite them both and she droned droolingly against the leather-topped desk as his dick thundered dully at the door of her womb. In one sudden, swift, and completely coordinated though unconsidered move, the screw-happy schoolgirl moved her hands back and down to grasp the sides of the desk and began to hurl herself with strong and powerful heaves back against the thrusting hips of her enthusiastically invited invader so that as her rampaging rump rode whompingly up into his soft belly and the tender skin of her breath-ballooning breasts stretched and cushioned on the hard heels of his hands, the very desk creaked and groaned in seeming unison with their redoubled exertions and trembled beneath them as though it, too, were approaching some monumental climax.
As air began to pump damply burping from her uncontrollably lusty cunt, Maryon erupted like a suddenly ruptured pipeline, a glorious fountain of scalding liquid force-flooding her vitals while fiery red and purple and golden rocket-trails exploded in pyrotechnic panoply in the galaxy of her eyes. In automatic, unmindful response, her palpitating belly bounced her rapidly upon the desk top in jello-y quavers that bobbed her bare butt smackingly upon the man's pitapatating stomach, initiating in him the chain reaction that sent ripples of rope riding round his pressure-pent prick. Reaching with her aaw! aaw! aaw!-ingly distended vulva as though her cunt was a hot and horny clam, Maryon, feeling as though her guts would run out of her with the strain her sphincter muscles imposed with their auctioning pull, took his throbbing cock by the roots and ran her vaginal fingers firmly but artfully about and around the entire swelling length until his dick was stretched to its ultimate extent within the moist confines of her quaggy quim. A last masterful manipulatory munch on his tenderized cock-head and… and… and… Maryon's cunt was reamed by flushing flashes of roiling boiling ichorous liquid that replaced the marrow in her melting bones and filled every last crevice in her crumbling skin, inflating her with fumes that crowded out of her gold-capped cranium all thought save that of its own impact and implication.
She was fucked to utter fulfillment, as Jenner seemed to be fucking to first fruition, and together their complementary convulsions lingered them in lusty lostness which wound down only when both were completely exhausted, with her contracting cunt slackening as rapidly as his tabescing tupper.
Their breathing was harsh and ragged as they lay there, each recapturing mentally the recent glories of their mutual experience. Jenner was first to get up, pulling his limp prick stickily from her slit so that Maryon could feel the cold cum congealing in her cleft. The air in the room was chill on her sweat-cooled goose-bumped flaccid ass, but she made no move to rise or even cover herself for some time. She heard the rustling of his dressing, the hesitant clearing of his throat, the inherent embarrassment of the short pause that followed, then the quiet unlocking of the office door and its sluthering shutting. A quick cold draft cut at her bare buttocks and that, finally, drove her to pull herself together, pick up her discarded panties, and sneak tight-thighed to the rest room in her rumpled parody of a schoolgirl's costume.
This was the best, but not the last, of their clandestine copulations.