All the way to school she thought about how she had enjoyed what she and Frank had done in the bathroom.
"Golly, he was even fuckin' me on the floor," she whispered to herself, as she climbed the steps into the schoolhouse.
She knew Frank had to leave, that he'd be gone when she returned from school that day. She wondered if she'd ever complete the fucking that he'd started with her.
"Oh, shit," Amy whispered. She walked down the hall of Ryder High. "I'm so hot. I never thought I could be so hot about sex and stuff."
But she was. Her young, mind turned over and over the scene in the bathroom. She went to her first class, her pussy wet and juicy, very cummy in her panties.
She couldn't concentrate on the lecture, on the lesson. She just kept thinking of Frank's big prick, his finger-fucking, how good she had felt.
She sat so delightedly sedate in her school desk, her blue skirt a sexy swirl of pleats on her luscious tanned legs. Her popcorn-ball tits pushed out her tight pink sweater. She sat in the last desk in the first row.
And even though beautiful Amy looked as though she were taking notes, she was simply scribbling jottings, and her pussy was itching and gooshing the crotch of her pink panties.
The bell rang and she went to her English class. Since school had just started, it was Amy's first time with Mr. Lane. He wore tight jeans that were faded, clinging to his long, muscular legs, a blue button-down shirt, striped tie, and a brown tweed sports jacket. He had light-brown hair, wore shaded glasses, brown shoes, and he was handsome.
Amy took her seat, finding the last seat in the first row again, and sat down. How old is he? she thought. Must be about Uncle Frank's age.
Actually Mr. Lane was fifty, but he looked more like forty.
"We will start with Shakespeare in this literature class," he said. "And we will begin with Julius Caesar."
He handed out the play.
Amy watched his cat-like walk. His jeans bulged out at his crotch. When he came to her desk, she smelled the pungent aroma of his after-shave lotion.
She looked up at the handsome teacher. He smiled and it seemed to Amy that he simply drank her in. His eyes gazed hotly at her tits, her waist, her legs.
She smiled bashfully.
During Mr. Lane's lecture, Amy thought he was looking at her a lot, and she liked his attention. It was her first experience in a classroom where the teacher glanced at her so often, his eyes admiring and appreciative.
I think he likes me, she thought.
He indeed did like the darling lass.
Who wouldn't have liked Amy? She was such a young beauty, so luscious and curvy. Her face looked as though it had been sculptured to perfection. Her thick, young lips were pouty, pink.
The bell rang and she got up to leave.
Mr. Lane sat back in his chair behind the desk at the front of the classroom. He watched the students file out.
Amy passed his desk and he smiled at her. He returned the smile, and she trembled. After school, Amy went to the football field with the other girls trying out for cheerleader and went through the routines. She wore blue shorts, a white T-shirt, white tennis shoes.
She looked good, bending, dancing, swinging her hips. She wanted so much to be a cheerleader. Maybe it was because she had never had a father, but she wanted male attention, needed it, sometimes craved it.
When she returned home, she found a note from her mother that she would be late.
I have a date with Carl. Be home late.
Love, Mom.
Her mother had been dating Carl for about six months. He was president of a large trucking company. Janet, Amy's mother, was very interested in Carl.
"Although I have a good job, we have lots of expenses, Amy," she had said one time. "I can't keep you in private schools, send you to college, buy clothes, all that, unless we have help. Maybe Carl will want to marry me. He is rich, Amy. Very rich."
Amy studied, then went to bed. She woke up late, around one o'clock, after a dream. She heard voices down in the living room. She got out of bed and went down the hall to the bathroom.
She looked over the banister of the stairs and saw her mother and Carl on the couch.
Janet had Carl's hard cock in her hand. She played with it. Carl had Janet's skirt up over yellow panties. He rubbed on the crotch.
"Jeez!" Amy whispered.
She hid herself behind the railing and watched.
Her mother bent over and kissed Carl's cock.
"Oh, yesssss!" Carl moaned.
Janet kissed lightly, then lifted off.
"No, that's enough. You were a bad boy tonight. You don't deserve to have me suck you off."
"Oh, please!"
"No," Janet said sternly.
"Oh, but Mrs. Cosgrove! Please!"
Amy's mother stood up. She swayed in front of Carl, teasing him.
"You must take all your clothes off," she said.
Carl stripped quickly.
"Gosh." Amy whispered to herself.
His cock was rock-hard, long, throbbing. The prick looked like it was bigger than Frank's.
He clutched his cock-stalk.
"How dare you!" Janet barked. "You are way out of line, playin' with yourself like that."
"But…"
"Let your prick alone!" Janet commanded.
"Yes, okay, yes!" he whimpered.
Amy was so hot. She wore pink pajamas. She stuck her hand down into her pussy and rubbed. Her finger slicked into the wet goo.
"You just sit there and watch, appreciate my beauty," Janet said.
And Janet was beautiful. She had big tits, a slim waist, plush hips, good legs, and a face that resembled her pretty daughter, but was more mature and womanly. Janet was thirty-seven.
Janet did a slow strip. Carl boiled with passion. Amy fucked her finger into her pussy.
Carl's cock stuck up like a watchtower.
Amy could tell he wanted to grab it, because his hand kept going to the stalk.
"No, don't you dare touch it!" Janet yipped.
Janet had stripped down to yellow panties and bra, a black garter belt, dark nylons, and yellow high heels. She thumbed her panties, pulled them down and showed off her bushy brown cunt.
Carl moaned like a dog. His cock thumped and spat out a hunk of cum.
Janet swayed before him, teasing, tempting him with her beauty. She plopped her big tits out over her bra.
Carl gasped.
His cock demanded, attention. He grabbed it and jerked wildly. His body stiffened and he came.
A shower of hot cum spewed out at Janet. Amy gasped and finger-fucked herself furiously.
"Shit!" she murmured.
"That's sooooo naughty, Carl!" Janet reprimanded.
But he was lost in his climax and his cock shot hot cream.
Amy came with him. She slicked her finger at her pussy, let the hot flare of orgasm tingle her to a delicious plane of pleasure.
"You'll pay for this, Carl. You'll have to be spanked," Amy heard her mother growl.
Carl's cock kept spitting. "I'm sorry, sorry, Janet!"
"Mrs. Cosgrove," Janet countered. "Yes, I'm sorry, Mrs. Cosgrove."
"You'll pay for this, Carl," she warned. "Oh, yeah, yes. I'll pay for this," he echoed.
Amy rushed to her room. She didn't understand what kind of game they were playing down there. Was it a game? What was the deal?
One thing she did know – she was still hot. She slipped under the covers of her bed and masturbated her pussy.