---Teacher's Pet--- She was all around him. Her legs wrapped tightly around his head, nylon soled feet pressed into his back. Her musk was thick enough to coat his face, to fill his nostrils. Wet tendrils of sweetly smelling sweat and perfume slide down her inner thighs and pooled where her flesh met the black lace of her stockings. Close proximity turns any enclosed space into a jungle. Recycled air gets re-breathed, swelling heavily in the lungs while presperation soaks everything in a fine mist. There's a humid oppression to it that surrounds and presses against your chest. Then there's the smell, the smell of your own sweat and the smell of someone else's. Bodies, held close together, sticking to one another as heat melds flesh together. It was a hellish mix of uncomfortable closeness and arousal. Her body was pressed so close. Her muscles were soft, inviting and powerful as calves pulled his face deeper against her center. She was all encompassing and in the darkness of his cloistered cubby hole underneath her desk... her very presence threatened to devour him. And of course there was also her dick sunk nearly halfway down his throat. Who would have ever thought that their sultry, feminine teacher would be so damn big? A great meaty, heated shaft of flesh throbbed happily between his lips. The engorged purple head pulsated in place, it's opening aimed directly into his stomach. Every now and then, some move of hers or his would send a thick glob of excited precum to land in a burbling splash in his tummy. At those moments, she'd curl satin clad toes and dig fabric covered nails into his back and let out a pleased little sigh. That's usually when his own cock swelled and threatened to rebel against his blue jeans. What he wouldn't give to touch those toes to his own skin. Anyplace would do, someplace warm and private would do nicely. But she always regained her composure and continued on with her lessons. He wondered what it was like outside. Did any of his school chums miss him? Did they actually think he had skipped her class? NOBODY skipped her class. He could just picture her, a seemingly endless stretch of dangerous curves. His teacher topped most of the males she knew in height, add in a pair of high heels and even Coach Benson slouched around her. Of course, that wasn't the size most of the boys in her class were interested in. Her voluptuous body peaked at her chest in ways that simple genetics dictate as impossible. You couldn't have a waist like that and expect to carry those.. those.. heavenly bodies around. Her white blouse would be straining against them, like neolithic mammals trying to stem a glacier. It would groan in a fabricy sort of way as she leaned back in her chair. Button number two would stretch while button number three hung on by a thread. Adolescent pubertory physics demanded that such pressure be released. Like a twin volcano, sooner or later they'd just HAVE to burst forth and spill creamy bosom for all the world to see. Only it never quite happened. They stayed in place, jiggling at the slightest provocation and somehow seemingly independent of their feminine carrier. They'd stay in place as she sauntered down the hall or sash-shayed her way through the classroom. Other round and yet well-muscled bits of her would sway, each to their own rhythmic rhumba. High heels would click on tile as she slid up to and then settled down on top of her desk, explaining the lesson and infuriating the educational process. Most times, she'd slip one leg over the other, the gartered edges of her lace stockings just peeking beyond the hem of her skirt. Eyes would leave books, doodles and the odd comic book and fixate on her long, supple form and she'd unconsciously dangle a black high-heel on one foot. All of them, wherever their personal tastes lay, whatever bit of her anatomy demanded the most personal and studious attention.. would in turn shoot hopeful glances between her legs. Faith told them that one day there'd be a slip. It was the most devout of all religions. Her legs wouldn't cross quite fast enough or some nylon would snag on some harness and reveal the secret treasure between her thighs. The boy under he desk and pressed against her nether regions could have told them their goddess' secret. The serpent didn't just temp in her garden, it was the very forbidden fruit itself. He knew all right. He knew it's flavor, he knew it's smell, and given her instructions for staying after class today, he had a good idea he'd soon know what it felt like when pressed against something tight and wiggling. Nnnnngg! Had she read his mind? The teacher that enveloped him in her secret darkness was groaning. He knew her pearly whites were likely biting deep into a puffy, full bottom lip. The cock between his lips was growing now, swelling and he found it even harder to breath. Good goddess, she was strong. Thighs melted from softness to hard muscles as they pulled him flush against her pelvis. A hand reached down and long red fingernails dug into the back of his head while they entangled in his hair. The enormity of the cock inside his mouth suddenly overwhelmed him. It HAD gotten bigger and .. and deeper too. He could feel it blocking off all air, all escape, his throat desperately trying to swallow this intruder down like it would any overly sized piece of meat. Of course that only encouraged it. As oxygen left him, panic rushed in to take it's place. He flailed around as best he could while legs held him down like a vise. Toes curled tightly, pulling up his shirt. Hosiery and nails dug into the meat of his back as he let out what gurgles he could. At the moment he didn't care what any of the students might think if they knew he was down there, and apparently neither did she. With a moaning shudder she leaned back, angling her volcanic spear deeper still down the young man's throat. Their bodies locked, his own pinned and completely overwhelmed through lack of air and simple inferior musculature. Finally he felt an agonized throb shudder through the cock that impaled him. Then it came. And came. And came. It came like forty days of cleansing. It came like fiery sulphur on the wicked. It came in great, thick, heated strands of white. Molten ivory slammed directly into the young man's stomach and burbled there wetly forming bubbles as it strained against its meager prison. As the young man slowly slid under, his body filling with everything except the air he needed to survive; he felt something warm and wet, repeating itself in his pants. "Wake up dear, the bell has rung as your schoolmates have fled, fearing fiery reprisal in the form of an extra chapter's worth of homework." The voice slid from throat to tongue and past lips with all the sweet stick of honey on flapjacks. There was even an uncharacteristic giggle. "I am betting there will be wild rumors of how Miss Futanari came to school with a vibrator between her legs. Perhaps next time I should simply have my little one hum for me." "Wha.. what happened?" The young man groaned and looked around bleary-eyed. Something internal gurgled and grumped. He never felt so full in all his life and his throat and mouth didn't quite want to work. He wondered if this was what a dog fed peanut butter went through. Najya smiled, coohing a bit and running long red nails just under the boy's shirt and scritching a slightly swollen belly. She was still sitting in her chair but he had been given the freedom of the classroom, laid out on his back on her desk. "I'm sorry dear. I should have warned you how.. carried away one can get. I'm afraid you're going to be in for some tummy trouble this evening, to say nothing of a cramped jaw." Running his own fingers through his hair, he closed his eyes and simply nodded, enjoying both the slight relax of his teacher's scratching and the wonder that was unrestricted oxygen flow. "Was it worth it dear? You asked what it took to be teacher's pet. Are you still so sure that's worth the effort?" She coohed softly, leaning closer, letting her warm breath add to the soothe of her fingers. The young man kept his eyes shut, a flush tinting his cheeks rose-red. Finally, in a very sticky voice he replied, "I.. I said anything and I meant it. That was," he gulped down a bit of leftover fluids, "the best lesson ever." The Amazonian teacher smiled with just the hint of an evil smirk as she slid from her chair and along her desk. "Oh dear, you haven't done 'anything' yet. Trust me, the 'anything' is yet to cum." Strong hands slid up the young man's body, teasing, taunting and eventually un-fastening. In moments he was freed of the restrictive confines of denim. Full, wet lips placed a warm kiss just inside his inner thigh and fingers reached around and gripped his ankles tightly. He bit his bottom lip, tried to gather some sort of control over his suddenly very much awake shaft and to relax as best he could. He had a good idea what 'anything' might entail. Honestly, he couldn't wait. ---End---