"Miss Campbell, can I talk to you a few minutes?" Tommy Lanson asked as school was letting out the next day.
Susan beamed. "Why, of course, Tommy. Come on up here."
The blond-haired youth, eager but a bit bashful, walked to the front of the room while the rest of the people noisily exited.
"What is it, Tommy?" Susan smiled from behind her desk. Her eyes flicked across the modest bulge at the front of the boy's snug jeans, and a slight rosiness brightened the teacher's cheeks.
"Well, it's just… I don't quite understand that new arithmetic problem. I mean, with those percentages and all."
"Well, Tommy, I'll explain it to you. Come around here." Susan indicated that he should stand beside her chair.
The lad moved to position. He was so slim and beautiful, Susan thought. If only I could TOUCH him! REALLY TOUCH HIM!
Tommy stood very close to her as Susan began to explain the problem that had given him trouble, writing it on a piece of paper on her desk. She had difficulty concentrating on the explanation she was trying to give. She began getting hot between her legs.
Susan's sexual re-awakening of the day before – and the hands, and at the pricks, of Rusty and Chester – had, far from discouraging her interest in young boys, whetted it. Her guilt over Rusty and Chester was an important factor. It was wrong to have sex with men, her childhood impressions continued to tell her, but to be with young boys was different. That wasn't a sin, so her mother had said.
Responding to a sudden warm rush of desire Susan slipped her arm about Tommy's waist. She thrilled at this contact with the lad's firm, slim body. Tommy obviously felt something also, for he glanced quickly at his teacher and a slight blush came to his smooth cheeks.
She smiled at him. "What's the matter? You're not shy with women, are you?"
What am I SAYING? Susan wondered wildly. I shouldn't be talking to a student like that!
But nothing could stop what had been started. It was like yesterday with Rusty and Chester… but so wonderfully different! Susan was hot – so hot she could hardly stand it.
"I don't know if I'm… shy or not," Tommy said, looking at her strangely.
Though he had just turned thirteen, and had yet to experience a sexual release, the lad had frequent erotic feelings… and many hard-ons. Girls his own age excited him. Women did, also – particularly Miss Campbell.
The bolder boys in her class talked to one another about her titties and her shapely ass. Tommy listened. Sometimes he even joined in. In bed at night he would fantasize about peeping at Miss Campbell when she took her clothes off, watching those gorgeous tits of hers bob into view, and watching as she slid down her panties. Having sneaked a few peeks at girly magazines, Tommy knew what tits looked like – and what pussies looked like, also. Pussies scared him, though. He wasn't exactly sure what to do with them. He knew that guys pushed in with their pricks, but what happened after that?
His fantasies about Miss Campbell always gave him a vigorous hard-on, which he enjoyed immensely. He would writhe against the bed-sheets to provide tactile stimulation. He even would handle himself a little. But nothing ever happened, and his hard-on eventually would slump… or he would go to sleep with it and dream about other things. He wasn't yet quite a man.
"There's no reason for you to be shy with me, Tommy," his teacher said, being carried along by the force of her desire. She drew him closer to her. "You don't, uh, dislike me, do you?"
"Oh gosh no, Miss Campbell!" The boy reddened more. Susan exulted as she realized Tommy was responding to her warmth and nearness. If only she dared to…
She did dare.
Why not?
No one would know. By that time the schoolhouse was empty. The janitor wouldn't show up to make-his rounds for another hour or so.
Giddiness overwhelmed Susan. Knowing she was doing wrong, but unable to stop herself, she twisted on her chair so that she faced Tommy. Still holding him around the waist, she placed her free hand on the front of his snugly-trousered thigh. She felt a tremor pass through the lad. Susan surged. She skidded her hand to Tommy's crotch and boldly fondled his cock and balls through his jeans.
"M-Miss Campbell!" the youth yelped.
His prick instantly grew hard, pushing against the prison of his pants. His cheeks flamed. He was hot all over.
Susan was every bit as heated as he. Her steamy cunt-lips were lathering, dribbling girl-cream onto the crotch-strip of her panties. Her nipples pricked up in her bra. Her throat was tight. She was panting.
The instant hardness of Tommy's youthful cock, which she felt through his jeans, thrilled the long-frustrated teacher. She had to take out that beautiful prick! She had to hold it and look at it. She had to stroke it. She had to HAVE it!
She attacked Tommy's fly with sudden determination, throwing all decency to the winds.
As she pulled down his zipper, the boy became frightened. What was she going to do to him? What was he expected to do to her?
He jerked away from her, backing up on strong legs which had turned rubbery. His fly was open and, as he moved, his hard prick popped out. Responding to its sudden freedom, it soared upward, nearly touching his belt buckle. The clean, bare head swelled.
"Oh, my God!" Susan breathed hotly, and leaped up to pursue the lad.
But he backed against the blackboard and cried, "Miss Campbell, PLEASE!"
Excited though he was, he was begging her not to touch him.
He needs more stimulation. Susan thought wildly. He needs to see what I have for him. If I show it to him, he'll want it. He won't be able to resist. He's mature enough to be horny. That beautiful hard prick of his proves it!
The circumstances gave Susan no opportunity to practice finesse. Tommy was at the point of running, and if she was to bring him around she felt she must act boldly and quickly. Anyway, her own need demanded it.
She lifted her skirt.
Tommy's eyes widened as he gazed at the teacher's bare thighs above her stocking tops, and at her white panties which clung silkily to her pubic mound and gently rounded belly. A shadow of her dark triangle showed faintly through the pale nylon.
"Tommy… look!" she exclaimed, momentarily mad with lust, and stripped her panties down.
The lad's jaw dropped as he stared at his teacher's bushy, dark snatch. This was what had stimulated, yet frightened him when he had guiltily looked at pictures of it; now he was seeing it in the flesh – in the hair and flesh and it frightened him even more.
His up thrust prick quivered, then suddenly fell limp and he ran to the door, without looking back. He stuffed his penis back into his clothes and zipped up as he feverishly left the room.
Susan stood staring, with her panties around her stocking tops and her skirt obscenely elevated. At that point she could scarcely believe what had happened – what Tommy had done or what she had done, either. It was as if she had been demon-possessed and he, sensing her evil, had run from it like the innocent creature he was. She felt horribly ashamed and wicked. Worse than that, she felt frustrated as never before in her life.
She pulled up her panties and let her skirt drop.
"Hey, what happened in here, teacher? My kid brother lit out like he had a scalded tail. Don't tell me you gave him a whipping."
Susan stared, at the tall, rugged redhead who stood in the open doorway, grinning insolently, his legs planted apart, the front of his snug jeans bulging with his manly attributes.
"You look kinda funny, too," Rusty went on, squinting at her. He continued to grin. "I'll bet you were whipping the tyke!"
Susan couldn't speak. She could only stare at the crotch of Rusty's pants. Her eyes remained riveted there as he walked toward her, a fact which the man couldn't fail to notice.
"Y'know, I just stopped by to ask you out tonight," he said, his tone turning husky. "But I don't guess I'll have to do that. A girl like you don't have to be bribed with no dinner and a picture show, do you?"
Trembling, Susan dropped to her knees in front of the dominant male. She needed to do penance for what she had attempted with Tommy. And more than anything else, she needed a cock.
She clawed at the fly of Rusty's pants.
She heard him catch his breath and felt his legs grow tense. She pulled out his prick, which hung like a bulb-ended salami – not limp but not yet rigid.
Susan's brain spun with the thought of what she was about to do. She had never seriously intended to do it, but the idea had teased her many times, as it did most girls. Suddenly now she felt she had to perform the act – like it or not, even if it made her sick.
She lifted Rusty's long cock toward her lips, feeling the responsive organ stiffen in her encircling hand. She stared at Rusty's bare, rosy bulb as it grew. Her nostrils dilated as she breathed in his prick's musky fragrance.
Oh, God. I surely will be sick! she thought as she drove her mouth down onto the bulging cockhead, encompassing it completely, locking her lips into the groove behind it, feeling it compress her tongue, feeling the hard shaft stretch her lips… tasting it… smelling it… and she began to suck.
Wildly.
Rusty writhed on the balls of his feet and blindly tousled the teacher's black, silken hair. His eyes were closed, his head tilted back. He bit his lip.
He had never experienced such a thrill in his life. Not that he hadn't had his cock sucked before, but never by a don't-touch-me girl who pretended to be so proper and suddenly went wild at the touch, or today just the sight, of a man. The fact that it had happened without advance notice made it all the more thrilling.
A passionate groan escaped Rusty's mouth, and he began to drive his cock forward and back between Susan's lips. She was sucking so hard that his urethra burned. Her tautly stretched lips were like a wide rubber band around his big dick. Her teeth dragged across his corona, giving excruciating stimulation.
To Susan the act was wildly exciting because it was forbidden and, she thought, nasty. Part of her response was due to a need she felt for degradation, and this act surely degraded her. But then she began to appreciate the act for itself. She found that having a big, stiff cock in her mouth furnished some surprising sensual delights – the hardness of the shaft between her lips, the fullness of the glans which stimulated her tongue and palate with its pressure, but most of all the smell and taste of it. It was wild dirty, maybe – but strangely good. And getting better.
What Susan didn't like was the way Rusty was ramming at her. She was forced to pull back with his thrusts, to keep herself from gagging and perhaps to save her throat from being ruptured. She made inarticulate protesting sounds against the man's mouth-filling meat.
Rusty finally brought himself under control and stroked more gently, with short, teasing motions. Susan liked that. His horny ridge slipping back and forth between her lips was stimulating.
"Don't suck so… Goddamn hard!" Rusty panted.
Susan hadn't realized how hard she had been drawing on his prick. She hadn't sucked at anything so earnestly since she had-given up her mother's titty. She sucked more gently and moved her tongue against the underside of Rusty's dong.
"Ooooooh!" the man finally groaned, "I'm… going to…"
He pulled his prick out of Susan's mouth, and the wet, stiff organ whipped in the air.
"…SHOOT!" Rusty cried in desperation.
He let go with a blast that struck Susan full in the face. The goo splattered over her nose and lips and came close to her eyes, but didn't quite get into them. Startled and frustrated by the sudden abortion of the titillating oral intercourse, she fell to the side just in time to avoid Rusty's follow-up blast, which struck the front of the teacher's desk and dribbled down. He was clutching his cock by then, aiming it downward as far as he could, and his third and fourth spurts hit the floor.
Susan crouched and panted, staring at his excitement being dissipated while her pussy burned. She tasted his cum which was on her lips.
God damn him! she thought. Oh, damn him to hell!
It's your own fault, girl, for sucking his cock, an inner voice told her. But didn't it taste good? Didn't you DIG it?
No! Susan told her other self firmly. I DIDN'T dig it! And it tasted nasty! I'll never going to do it again.
But it didn't make you sick, did it? her other voice taunted.
It probably will. My stomach feels funny.
Actually it wasn't her stomach that was bothering Susan, but her cunt. Her hot, yearning cunt. What in God's name was she going to do with it? Rusty's cock was now too soft to help her.
She wiped her face on a hanky she carried in a little pocket of her skirt, then rose to her feet while Rusty stuffed his limp prick into his pants. He grinned.
"That's how it goes sometimes, baby," he said, apparently not embarrassed in the least. "Sometimes we both get our rocks off, sometimes just…"
"I certainly won't go out with you!" Susan sniffed. "And before you leave, will you kindly clean up the mess you made on my desk and the floor?"
"Oh. Sure." Rusty glanced about.
"There's some Kleenex in my right-hand bottom drawer," Susan said, and left the room. She didn't feel like bothering with books or paper.
Where did a young woman go when she needed to be serviced?
It was too bad, Susan thought wickedly, that there weren't houses of prostitution that women could frequent when they were hard-up for a prick. Perhaps there were in some cities, she speculated, but surely not in Poplar Gap.
There were bars, however.
Susan had done two daring things already that day – things she had never thought herself capable of – and the third came easy. With her warm thighs grinding moistly on the sopped silken strip of her panties, she walked down the street toward Main. The bar she was headed for was right around the corner. It was dark, she had noted before in passing by. The darkness might afford her some anonymity, she hoped, though she wasn't overly concerned about that right then. Her sensual need was more important.
"Sorry, we don't serve unescorted ladies," the bartender said as Susan walked in.
There were two young bucks seated at the neat end of the bar. They grinned at Susan, and one of them said, "She ain't unescorted. She's with us. Ain't you, babe?"
He reached and grabbed her by the arm. Trembling, Susan let herself be drawn to a bar-stool between the farmhands, the other having moved down one place to make room for her.
"What's your name, baby?" the first man asked, ogling her tits.
"Sue," she replied, hoping this might distinguish her from teacher Susan Campbell, whom more of the town's grownups knew by name than by sight.
"I'm Chuck," the more forward of the two men said. He was fleshy faced, in his early twenties, and had light hair. "That there's Fred," he added, indicating the taller, dark-haired male at Susan's opposite side. Fred had a steely look and seemed a bit older, though perhaps he wasn't. Silent, serious people always seemed older than their years.
"What are you drinking, Sue?" Fred asked. His voice was low-pitched and had a hard edge like his gaze.
"I… I'll have a beer," Susan said, thinking that sounded better than ordering hard liquor. She doubted that the bartender knew how to make a decent martini.
"One beer for the lady," Chuck loudly told the barman, "and give my buddy and me another round of bourbon, huh?"
The bartender winked and went about it.
Susan felt out of place. She didn't like Chuck and his friend, and she didn't enjoy sitting at the bar with them. She wondered if anyone deeper inside the darkness of the place had recognized her. She didn't want to look around for fear that might facilitate recognition.
Her beer arrived, and she sipped it. She hoped it would steady her nerves. At least, it was cold, and it satisfied the thirst she had developed.
It also took the taste of Rusty's cock out of her mouth. She wasn't sure whether she was happy about that or not.
You wicked person! she scolded herself. What's happened to you?
"You're pretty cute," Chuck said as he eyed her. "You live around here?"
"I, uh, am just passing through," Susan said, and sipped some more beer.
"Checkin' out the local joints, huh?" Fred suggested.
Susan gave him a barbed look. "I felt thirsty and wanted a beer. Is there anything wrong with that?"
"Hell no, baby," Fred said, and toasted her with his shot glass. He knocked the bourbon down.
"Well, uuuh, what you got planned?" Chuck inquired, his fingers doodling along her bare arm. They gave Susan little shivers.
"Nothing really."
"Then how about us makin' it?" Chuck boldly suggested.
There it was – what Susan had wanted. The only trouble was, she wasn't sure she wanted it any longer. Perhaps a warm bath would serve her just as well, she speculated. And she could always play with herself a little.
A hot jolt went through her as Chuck's hand landed on her thigh. He squeezed the firm, tapering column.
"Come on, baby," he said, snuggling close.
"Both Fred and me are free tonight."
"B-both of you…?" Susan murmured, a new naughtiness insinuating itself into her mind.
"Yeah," Fred spoke up. "That is, if we can get a bargain rate."
Susan stared at him.
"Two for the price of one, so to speak," he added gazing at her with his flinty eyes.
"I'm not a…" Susan began angrily, in a loud tone. She caught herself at the last moment and lowered her voice. "…prostitute," she completed.
"You mean you don't charge for it?" Fred asked incredulously.
Chuck was playing with the hem of her skirt, under the edge of the bar. "You dumb-ass farmer!" he said. "Of course, she don't charge for it. She's just a sweet young gal lookin' for a little fun. Right, baby?"
He slid his hand all the way up her leg and pinched the wet crotch of her panties. Susan's head turned light. Her mouth flopped open.
Chuck was staring at her, close up. But he spoke to Fred, softly, "Holy Christ, man, you oughta feel what I'm feelin'."
"Yeah, what's that?" Fred asked, as Susan continued to thrill to Chuck's pinching, probing fingers.
"Her pussy's wet as a swamp," he said. "I mean, she's achin' for it."
"Well shit, then, let's give it to her," Fred said, and slid off the stool.
"N-no… I mean…" Susan stammered. She was thinking, two of them! TWO of them!
"Just what do you mean, baby?" Chuck purred, his whiskey breath striking her in the face as he hooked her panties aside and stuck his finger up her hot, oily cunt.
"OOH!" Susan exclaimed, and nearly fell off the bar-stool.
Chuck was circling his stiff finger inside her, driving her wild. "Ready to go?" he asked.