"Well, there were five of them the last time."
His eyebrows ran back over his head. "The last time? How about the first time?"
"Then it was only one… Bobo!"
"Bobo Wilder?" The eyes rose again. Goddamnit, he thought, here she's had the Wilder cock, and I've been trailing him into the john for two years trying just to catch a glimpse of his dick. Damn! "Uh, did Bobo hurt you much?"
"Yes sir! He broke my heart. That's how I got up with the other five."
"No… no! I don't mean did he hurt your feelings. I mean, did he hurt you when… uh…when he did it to you?"
"Hurt some, but once he got it in, oh, I tell you it was good!"
Whitley's droopy dick began to assert itself in his pants. He had at one time or another, probably sucked twenty dicks in his career as a teacher and principal, but he had never fucked one of the girls.
Girls didn't do too much for him, but this one might and her ass was the right shape, and she turned him
on just talking about that luscious Bobo Wilder! Whew! God, he was getting carried away.
"Come around here, Tuesday, and let me talk to you closer."
Obediently, Tuesday uncrossed her legs, again showing him a flash of white nylon crotch and rose to move around to the executive side of his desk. She leaned her buttocks against the desk within easy reach of his hands which Whitley was having problems keeping controlled in his lap. As she neared him, she noted that on the left side of his nose there grew a monstrous mole, out of which grew two bristly hairs. Tuesday was fascinated.
He pushed his cock down in his lap.
"Hummmm! Let me see now. You have had…uh…well…intercourse with Bobo Wilder and then later with… how many? Five other guys?"
"That's right. The five were all at once, too."
"How could that be?"
She explained to him in detail the way Howard, Andy, Bernie, Tony and Phil had fucked her.
Whitley became excited, and his hands trembled in his lap. His cock was hard, and his throat was dry as desert dust. When she reached the part of her story where the guys changed positions, Whitley advanced a tentative hand that slid up her left leg until his fingers disappeared under her miniskirt.
Tuesday noticed, of course, but since it Was Mr. Whitley, she did not make any objection. She
thought he was merely trying to put her at ease.
However, when his hand reached the bottom of her panties, and he began to insert his finger in the elastic, Tuesday shifted about uncomfortably.
"Here, Tuesday," he said, reaching for her with his free hand. "Come and sit on my lap while we talk. Heaven knows, you have had a terrible experience."
The sympathetic words had a magic effect on Tuesday. He did understand. In gratitude, she not only flung herself in his lap, but she wrapped her arms about his neck, and buried her embarrassed face in the hollow of his shoulder. What's more, she sat firmly on his fully erected cock, and caused sweat to break out on his face.
"I just knew you would understand," she said.
"Of course," he murmured, allowing his hand again to reach up and probe under the tight leg opening of her panties. "I wonder if you would be good enough to remove your panties? I would like to look to see if there has been any damage done to your private parts."
"Oh, no, there hasn't been."
"Perhaps not," he insisted smoothly, "but I would like to see to make sure. You don't want to take a chance of being disfigured or ruined for life."
Tuesday stood up and pulled her panties off. She placed them on his desk. How beautiful her flesh was… rose-colored in the right places. She held her skirt up around her waist so that he could see her delicate thighs, and the furred area of her cunt. On
the backside, where her legs swept upward and flared into her rosy and firm buttocks, Whitley traced the outline of her ass with a cupped hand.
"Get back up on the desk," he said hornily. "Sit upon it this time. I want to…uh…well, I must check the inside of your vagina."
"Okay," she agreed. "It was pretty sore for a long time, but it's all right now. I haven't played with it or anything since that last time. I'm trying to be a good girl."
"I know you are," he said, fastening his lecherous old eyes on the red slash of her pussy. "Just lie back there on the desk," he ordered, shoving all his papers onto the floor.
"Now, spread your legs apart. That's it… Oooooh!"
"What's the matter?" she asked anxiously.
"Nothing! Noting!" he said. "It's just fine." He pushed the pouting lips of her pussy apart and looked up into the gash as far as he could. She felt the sharpness of his fingernails against her tender cuntlips and flinched slightly.
"Tuesday," he said. "Before I give you a clean bill of health, I must check the inside of your vagina. There is only one way to be certain you are not permanently impaired. I must go into it just as the others have, but in this case, purely as an experiment to assist you to feel good again. We have to know the conditions inside."
She was horrified at the prospect, and yet, her cunt was in need. Tuesday, nevertheless, acquiesced quickly. "Yes, sir, Mr. Whitley. I'm
willing for you to do anything if you can just tell me I'm all right, and can be a nice girl again."
He stood up, and she could plainly see the imprint of his cock. Golly, he did have a big one, but it was probably not much longer than Hobo's, and no bigger around than Tony's. And best of all, he was not going to stick his prick in her in a sinful way. He was just going to check her out.
"Pull my zipper down," he ordered as he allowed his glasses to fall off, and suspend themselves on the ribbon about his neck. He stood up close to the desk so that Tuesday could reach his fly without raising up.
She jerked his zipper to the bottom, and fished inside to bring out his cock. It was tangled up in the old-fashioned, one-piece underwear which he wore. As Tuesday continued her effort to remove his cock, a rank and offensive odor struck her nostrils. It was the smell of unwashed and sweaty flesh.
She knew without being told that Whitley's balls were sweaty, and that he had not bathed his crotch area in perhaps weeks. Nevertheless, she persisted, fighting down her revulsion for his unclean body.
Finally, as he backed his ass away and caused his dick to free itself from the folds of his piss-stained underwear, Tuesday was able to pull his cock out into the light. God Almighty! What a horrible piece of meat it was! Not only did it exude a highly offensive odor, but it had a dangling, pendulous foreskin the likes of which Tuesday had never seen before.
As soon as she saw how indescribably ugly his
cock was, she dropped it from her hand, and without thinking, wiped the palm off on her dress.
The motion was not lost on Whitley, but he didn't take offense. He was not concerned at what she thought. All he wanted was to ram his rusty old cock into her fresh pussy and to feel the hot meat of her cunt bite down on it. He was not a great cunt lover; he preferred the throb of a cock in his mouth, but when he was aroused, he could fuck any hole.
"Now, Tuesday," he said. "Will you guide it into your vagina?"
She spread her legs, opening her pussy as wide as it would go. He walked into the opening, and Tuesday grabbed his horrible old cock again, and tried to skin it back and forth to loosen it up. Then she discovered that the foreskin was grown over the head, and that it would not skin back. More disconcerting was the fact that his cock was dry, and her pussy was not producing cooze oil.
Tuesday decided to do her best under the circumstances. She parted her pussy lips then, and guided the head of his cock into the mouth of the opening with her other hand. As soon as Whitley felt his cock in the hole, he seized the desk and began to push. He wiggled and she twisted, and they both shoved as hard as they could, but the damn cock was too big and too dry to go in.
"Maybe if you would suck me some, it would get wet and go in," Tuesday suggested.
"Please," he gasped, backing away horrified. "I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing. It's a crime against nature to put one's mouth on a vagina. We
must think of something else."
Tuesday could not think of anything else, so she remained silent.
Then Whitley, whose cock had dropped to about half-mast, clapped his hand on the desk. "If we can't get into your pussy," he said, "there is one other way."
"What?"
"Let me get Bobo Wilder here in the office." He depressed a key on his communications box, and told the girl in the outer office to send for Bobo.
While they waited for Bobo to arrive, Whitley suggested that Tuesday stroke his dick and balls until he was once again fully erected.
There was a knock on the door. Whitley sat down in his chair, hiding his nasty old, cheese-laden cock. He motioned for Tuesday to remain on the desk with her cunt bared. "Who is it?" he demanded.
"Bobo Wilder."
"Come in," Whitley ordered. "And close the door."
To say that Bobo was surprised when he saw Tuesday bare-assed on the desk would be the understatement of the century. He was struck dumb.
Mr. Whitley, inspirational leader that he was, moved to put the guy at ease.
"Come over here, Bobo," he said. "You know Tuesday Noir, I believe?"
Bobo nodded silently, as he fixed his gaze at Tuesday's exposed pussy. He was a little afraid, but since he had not had any pussy or even beat his
meat for nearly a week, he had to be interested in what he saw from a sexual standpoint. No matter how unusual or bizarre the circumstances, a monster-cocked, guy has got to be intrigued by a bare pussy.
"Tuesday tells me that you have had intercourse with her."
Bobo looked at Whitley blinking, and then for some reason, he was nodding his head truthfully.
"Well then, you know that she has been badly disturbed by it all, and she has come to me for reassurance. I am trying to ascertain if her physical well being has been disturbed. There is only one way I can be sure. I want you to get your clothes off, and probe into her vagina for me with your prick."
Bobo was scared. Goddamn, people don't fuck in a school principal's office! He stood immobile. Then he noted that Whitley was sitting in a peculiar position, and in a flash it came to him that the old son of a bitch had his own cock out. This revelation was further borne out in Bobo's mind by the smell which permeated the room. Tuesday's cunt did not smell. It had to be Whitley's cock.
What the hell was the old bastard up to? Well, it really didn't matter. Bobo knew he had to do what he was told. If he didn't, God knows what Whitley would do about his fucking Tuesday. Expel him? Send him to a reform school? Tell Tuesday's mother?
Bobo began to get his clothes off.. When he was naked from the waist down, Whitley motioned for him to come to the side of the desk where his cock
would be clearly visible. Tuesday lay back down on the desk.
Bobo's cock was a beautiful thing compared to the gnarled old stink pole concealed in Whitley's lap. Bobo's legs were firm and well muscled, and his balls were symmetrical. Whitley licked his lips in appreciation of a fine cock. But it was not hard.
In fact, Tuesday began to wonder. She had never seen Bobo's dick soft. Golly, it had a certain helpless quality about it which made her pussy juice at the sight. No! No! She must not let herself be aroused. Bobo had caused her enough trouble.
"Will you please get your tool erected?" Whitley was saying to Bobo. "You cannot probe her vagina with it dangling there as it is!"
Bobo reached for his cock and began to flop it about. He was not turned on by the situation, but he thought he might be if Tuesday would play with him until he got a hard-on. Wordlessly, he placed his prick in her hand, and she began to jerk it as she had on so many previous occasions. She had not pulled his cock more than a dozen times before Bobo was as hard as he was likely to get. A small droplet of oil had appeared at the eye of his cock.
Bobo was hot and had almost forgotten about Mr. Whitley. His eyes gazed as he looked at Tuesday's open pussy. God, how good the thing looked. Oh, he would be glad to probe her snatch!
Bobo walked between Tuesday's legs, guiding his prick into the mouth of her snatch. With a deft shove, he slammed his cock to its full depth.
Tuesday gasped, and reached out with her hands to take him about the body. She also tried to lock her feet behind his back, but Whitley prevented her from doing so. He wanted her to allow her legs to dangle as Bobo fucked her.
And fuck her he did! He poured the meat into her hole, and the two of them were in great passion when Whitley leaped into the act. He stood up, and jerked oh his cock until he extracted a wad of pre-coital jizm from the mouth.
As Bobo was busy pumping the prick into Tuesday, he was suddenly disconcerted when he felt a hot cock ramming into his asshole.
Goddamnit! Nobody had ever put a dick in Bobo Wilder!
"Wait a fucking minute," he said, turning his head, but keeping his cock in Tuesday. "Whatcha doing, you old fart?"
"You mind what you're doing," Whitley said fiercely. "And keep the cheeks of your ass relaxed."
Bobo hesitated, and then went on fucking Tuesday.
It was difficult going. Bobo was thrashing about fucking wildly, and what's more his asshole was slammed tightly shut. But Whitley was resourceful. He was, of course, opposed in principle to the licking or lapping of a pussy, but he had no such qualms about tonguing a male asshole. But, when he found the entrance to Bob's tailpipe bared, without hesitation he fell to his knees. He forced the cheeks of the guy's ass apart, and he shoved his
mole-bearing nose up there and licked the brown hole with great vigor.
Bobo was only human. With his cock in a cunt and a tongue on his asshole, he was getting hotter. The more wildly he fucked, the greater became Tuesday's passion, and as Whitley licked Bobo's asshole, he was beating his meat with maniacal fury. Jesus, wouldn't the school board shit?
When Bobo got ready to come he slammed his cock to the right, then to the left, and then with a great ball-bearing plunge, he drove it all the way home down the middle, and exploded his load as he hit bottom. Tuesday reached climax at the same moment, and as they locked in coming embrace, Whitley was forced out of Bobo's ass, but he did not slacken the pace of his own masturbation. He was about to come too, and he didn't want to miss it. But he did want to enhance it.
He dropped his cock for a moment and pulled an amazed Bobo off Tuesday. By the sheer surprise of his attack he was able to bend the teen backward over the desk. Bobo's come-spewing cock was flopping about, and Whitley caught it in his mouth and sucked with his full strength as he resumed his cock flopping under the desk. Bobo's cock was so sensitive after coming inside Tuesday that he had been ready to scream, when Whitley shot his smelly old load on the floor, releasing Bobo's cock from his mouth as quickly as he had taken it.
God, what a scene it was in the office! Come all over everything. The desk was soaked with pussy drippings, and the three of them were embarrassed.
Tuesday was beside herself. How could old
Whitley be such an asshole? Oh, she could kill him. He was sitting stupidly in his chair with his cock draining on his pants, looking at Bobo's declining cock as the teen put his clothes on again.
"I guess I better get back to class," Bobo said lamely, and all but ran out the door.
"You seem to be all right, Tuesday," Whitley said, stuffing his prick into his soiled underwear. "Uh, just go ahead, and forget all about the things which have happened, particularly today. It was just an experiment which turned out well. You are all right!"
"You're a dirty old man!" she said, getting her panties on again. "I know you. You're a queer and a son of a bitch! I'll tell my mother!"
"Do that," he said sneering. "And I'll send you and Bobo both to the training school. Best you forget it all, and go ahead. You'll be fucking the rest of your life anyhow, so why worry about it?"