Lucy's Birthday

by RodtheRad

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, BiSexual, Fairy Tale, Humor, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Big Breasts, Teacher/Student, .

Desc: Fantasy Sex Story: A fantasy wherein the men are well endowed, aren't afraid to show it and yearn for the favors of young ladies.

Our story takes place in a fantasy world where the men are well endowed, unafraid to show it and eager to please lovely young ladies.

Lucy Stevens had gone to bed around ten that evening; after all it was a school night. However, she awoke a couple of hours later with an uncomfortable bladder. The extra bottle of water she’d used to wash down a spicy nacho dip had come back to haunt her. As she rolled out of bed, she checked the alarm clock on her nightstand. It was just past midnight. She was officially eighteen years of age.

She was a legal adult now, and she felt mostly unprepared for it. She had been a bit of an introvert growing up, shy and uncommunicative. By her mid-teens she had begun to emerge from this socially awkward phase. But then her stick thin body had blossomed with all the subtlety of a bucket of ice water over the head. Her late to bloom body had created a whole new set of problems. If you considered being blonde, beautiful and buxom a problem that is.

Lucy opened the door to her room and saw light coming from the guest bedroom down the hall. Wesley, ‘call me Wes,’ Chapman was staying the night. She’d seen him from time to time over the years. He was the son of one of her father’s friends. He was eight years older than her, and he seemed painfully shy despite the fact that he was cute, fit and obviously smart. Wes and her father had been huddled over some papers all day. In fact, they’d still been at it when she’d gone to bed.

Full of curiosity, Lucy crept down the hall in her bare feet. The door to the guestroom was sprung and closed with only great difficulty. Wes had pulled the door closed until it began to stick and then he’d let it be. Lucy eased forward until she could see into the room through the opening between the door and the doorframe.

Wes was propped up in bed against a couple of pillows. He was a nice looking guy, not quite thirty years of age, with sharp features and a mop of thick, black hair. He was wearing a pair of boxers and a black tee shirt. Beside him on the bed, was a large book. He was slowly turning a page.

The one thing that really caught Lucy’s eye however, was the enormous cock that was thrust up from the slit in his underwear. “Oh, my gosh,” she said in the faintest of whispers. The hand that wasn’t busy with the book was busy running up and down the length of his cock. Clearly, he was jacking off to something in the book. But what? When she could drag her eyes away from Wes’ massive shaft with its bulging blue veins and a cum-tube that had to be bigger than her forefinger, she recognized the book as a photo album she’d been given.

Lucy was a member of her school’s track team. The previous season, Adam Franklin, who was her history teacher, had come to a couple of meets and taken numerous pictures of the team. A week later, he had come to Lucy and said, “I printed high resolution copies of some of those pictures I took. I want you go through them and pick out a dozen or so. From those, I’ll choose which ones I want for the yearbook.” Franklin was also the faculty member in charge of the school’s yearbook.

As Lucy had slowly taken the album from his hands, she had said. “Alice is the team captain. Shouldn’t you ask her?”

Franklin had smiled and shaken his head. “If there’s such a thing as the soul of an artist, Alice doesn’t have one. Pick out the ones you like.”

Lucy had brought the album home. When she went through it, she found to her chagrin that a full quarter of the pictures were of her. And in half of the remaining pictures, she was in the background or in a group shot. She had picked out only one modest shot of herself, and then eleven of the rest of the team. After removing the pictures from the album so she could give them to Franklin, she had tossed it into a drawer in the guest room. And that was where Wes had found it.

From the guestroom, Lucy heard Wes softly murmur, “Holy shit, Lucy, your tits are amazing.”

Lucy blushed. A grown man was jacking off while ogling her breasts. She had mixed feelings about her breasts. Her mother was buxom as was her grandmother, but for a long time Lucy thought she was going to have to settle for a couple of bumps. Then around eighteen months ago they had begun to grow. For six months her tits expanded, sometimes painfully so. Now she had full D-cups on her relatively slender frame. Their sudden appearance had been both a source of pride and embarrassment. With the exception of close friends, everyone at school, it seemed, had some comment to make on her spectacular assets. Few of the comments were kind.

When she confessed to her mother that she didn’t know how to handle the sudden attention, her mother had said, “Look, men are prisoners of their own sexuality, ignore them. Women who make catty remarks are simply jealous of your looks. The more scathing the remark, the more they’re acknowledging your superiority.”

“Amazing, fucking amazing,” Wes said. His eyes eagerly scanned from one pic to the next.

Without thinking about it, Lucy reached between her legs and began to manipulate her clitoral hood with a middle finger. She was masturbating to the guy who was masturbating to her. She could feel her clit becoming suffused with blood. Her finger moved in circles, stimulating first one side of her clit and then the other. Could she match his excitement? Could she come when he came?

“That ass, those tits, could you be any sexier?” Wes whispered as hand flashed up and down the top half of his dick.

Lucy had to admit, she did look good in those photos Mr. Franklin had taken of her in her runner’s gear. Her legs were long and sleek. Her shorts were molded to her ass and rode low on her hips. She had a tiny waist with just a hint of abs. And then there was the center of Wes’ admiration, her breasts. At first, when she ran, the shifting weight on her chest had bothered her. She had tried a dozen combinations of multiple bras and tops, none of them satisfactory. Then she had discovered a runner’s compression top that fit wonderfully and kept everything in place. And while the top may have compressed her breasts, the thickness and placement of padding in the cups both lifted and enhanced what Mother Nature had given her. So much so that her team mates kidded her about her unfair advantage because her jutting tits crossed finish lines seemingly long before the rest of her body.

Wes stroked his cock with frantic, uneven movements. He desperately flipped back through the album. Finding a certain picture, he said in a strangled whisper, “Yes, that’s the one. Those legs. Those tits all thrusting out like that. Oh yes. Oh fucking yessss.”

Lucy whipped her finger over her bare clit as she watched a veritable column of man-cream erupted from Wes’ cum-slit. It climbed over two, maybe three feet straight up, seemed to hang there and then collapsed with a long splash onto his tee shirt. It was followed by another white stream that may have climbed even higher.

“He’s coming, he’s coming so much,” Lucy said in amazement. Her finger pressed harder on her clit and a bolt of sheer pleasure shot through her pussy. She couldn’t take her eyes off his spewing dick just like his eyes were locked on one of her pictures. Fat streams of cum fell through the air as her pussy shuddered again and again.

When the waves of orgasmic sensuality ebbed, Lucy made her way back to her room. She fell to sleep with visions of hot cum curving, looping and falling through the air. It was a couple of hours later that her bladder insisted she stop fooling around and get her business done.

Lucy was in the shower the next morning, running a soapy loofa between her breasts, when she had an epiphany. Wes had been beating off to her pictures in the album, but Mr. Franklin had made the album. He was the one who had put all those pictures of her in there. Did Mr. Franklin think of her like Wes did? Was he at home masturbating to her image everyday while ignoring his wife? That seemed unlikely, if only because she was pretty sure he was single. Still, she felt a sexy shiver run through her pussy. On another day, Lucy might have lingered in the shower and fingered herself to orgasm, but she was in a hurry today. By coincidence, she wanted to be at school early so she could have time to talk to Mr. Franklin.

A few minutes later, she stood in front of her closet, looking for something to wear. She had lots of clothing, but most of the stuff her school permitted was in the laundry pile. The dress code was: shorts or skirts, no shorter than the top of the knee, capris or slacks, not too tight, tops had to have sleeves and show no cleavage. Permissible colors were white, black tan, or navy. No graphics or designs. No headgear inside the school.

Lucy wanted to impress Mr. Franklin, so she picked a black skirt that pushed the boundaries of tightness across her butt. For a top she chose a fitted white cotton shirt. It didn’t show any cleavage, but it was clear that if a certain straining button were to let go there’d be a sight to behold. A few minutes with her hair and makeup and she was good to go.

“There’s the birthday girl,” Lucy’s mother said as she walked into the kitchen. She and Wes were sipping coffee and watching the news. Her mother was in her robe, and the empty plate in front of Wes showed that he’d eaten breakfast.

Lucy greeted them and then poured a cup of coffee. As she put liberal amounts of cream and sugar in the cup she asked, “Where’s Dad?”

“He went in early,” her mother said.

Wes turned to her and said, “He’s doing some prep work for a meeting. We’re going to do a proposal later.” His eyes lingered on her for a second before he very self-consciously turned back to the TV.

“Darn,” said Lucy as she picked up a piece of toast from the breakfast table. “I wanted to get a ride to school early. I need to talk to one of my teachers.” She had an old Ford Focus, but it was at the dealership for repairs.

“Let me throw something on and I’ll take you,” her mother said.

“No, no. I’ll take her,” Wes said. “I need to get to the factory anyway.”

A few minutes later, Lucy slipped into the passenger’s side of Wes’ Corolla. The car was clean, but it had seen better days. Lucy’s skirt rode halfway up her thighs as she settled into the seat, but she didn’t try to pull it down. She pulled the shoulder belt tight between her breasts in order to give them more definition. She thought it would be fun to tease Wes.

“So what are you and Dad working one?” she asked as they began what would be about a twenty minute drive.

“Oh, gosh,” Wes said, ‘it’s all very hush, hush; burn before reading; shoot you if I told you sort of thing right now.”

Lucy laughed. “Ohhh, big secret. Okay, I get it.”

“Where are you going to college?” Wes said, sounding anxious to not end the conversation.

“I got accepted to State, but I decided to make some late applications to other places,” Lucy said.

“If you got into State, I’m sure any place would take you,” he said. “You’d think so,” Lucy said, “but the school councilor said to be sure to keep my grades up, just in case. That’s why I’m going in early to talk to one of my teachers.”

The rest of the trip was about teachers, particularly the odd ones. Lucy noticed that Wes’ lap seemed to be getting closer to the steering wheel. It seemed that she had teased him into a hard-on and she liked it. She imagined him whipping out his big dick on the drive to her father’s office and jacking off. Well, probably not as the head of his cock might be visible through the side window, and if he came his car’s interior would be liberally decorated in cum.

“Stop anywhere along here,” she said as they pulled up in front of the school. She squeezed his arm and thanked him for the ride.

“Anytime,” he said. She smiled as she exited the car. The steering wheel was definitely brushing his pants.

She waved at or said hello to some of the other early arrivals who were standing around the entrance. Once inside she made her way to a corner of the building and Mr. Franklin’s room. His door was closed, but she could see him through the slit of a narrow window pane. He was a tall thin man in his thirties. He had a towering mass of brown hair that always looked as if it needed a trim. He was in a white dress shirt and khakis, and seemed to be studying the content on a bulletin board. Lucy tapped on the glass and then opened the door. When he turned to the door she saw that he had a cup of coffee in one hand and a breakfast biscuit in the other.

“Lucy,” he said, greeting her with a warm smile. “What brings you in so early?”

“Hi, Mr. Franklin,” she said. “I was hoping I could ask a favor?”

He sipped at his coffee and said, “And what would that be?”

“We have that quiz today, and I really haven’t had time to study the material. I was hoping that, you know, I might become ill in the middle of class and miss it? I mean I expect a make-up test. You could make it even harder. I simply don’t want to risk a bad grade.”

Franklin shrugged, “It’s only a dozen multiple choice questions. It won’t have that much weight in your final grade,”

“I did the math,” Lucy said. I need to be perfect on this test in order to be comfortable about getting an A on the course.”

When Franklin hesitated, she lifted her arm in order to sweep her thick blonde hair over her shoulder and said, “Please?” A friend one time had pointed out to her that when a woman lifted her arm and moved her shoulder back her breasts were lifted and accented. It was amazing how many women did that either by intent or accident. Today, she certainly intended for Mr. Franklin to be impressed with her straining D-cups.

Franklin stared at her for several seconds and then said, “Uh, doing what you ask might set an inconvenient precedent, but I think I have a solution for you on my desk.”

He walked between a couple of rows of desks to the other end of the room where stacks of papers covered a heavy wooden desk. His eyes darted around at the papers as if he was looking for something. When Lucy joined him he straightened and said, “Oh, silly me, it’s in my pocket.”

Lucy’s eyes went to Mr. Franklin’s pants. The bulging outline of his hard cock was evident. “What’s in your pocket?” she asked in all innocence.

“The answer key to the quiz. You might as well have it. We both know you’d ace the quiz, given the chance to study.” He gestured with his hands which were still holding his breakfast. “Would you pull it out for me? I don’t want to lay this stuff down on my papers.”

Lucy felt an erotic thrill as she slid her petite fingers into the front pocket of Franklin’s khakis. There were a few coins at the bottom, but of course the shaft of his cock was what she was really there for. Through the material of his pants and underwear, she ran her hand along its length, squeezing here, pressing and rubbing there. “Is this the key?” she asked.

“Darling,” he said, “with your looks and body, it can be the key to a lot of things. Why don’t you pull it out?”

Lucy felt a shiver of erotic excitement as she unbuckled Franklin’s pants. A moment later his big dick was hovering in the air between them. “Nice,” she said. His cock must have been at least a foot long. It was a streamlined beauty without angry bulging veins. She moved her palm along its length, adding a twist when she got to the head.

“Lucy, that’s amazing,” Franklin moaned.

Lucy stroked more and began to be rewarded with a flow of pre-cum. She used it to lubricate his throbbing shaft. Soon, she was using both hands and squeezing as if she was massaging a stiff muscle.

“Lucy, Lucy,” Franklin said in a strangled voice. “It’s too much. Oh shit. Oh shit, Lucy!”

A long stream of cum shot forcefully into Lucy’s sternum. Her hands shook and the next stream slammed into her left breast. She squealed and tried to move out of the way, but she was hemmed in by the desk. Her hands were still locked onto his slippery shaft, and every move she made seemed to trigger another creamy blast from Franklin’s cum-slit. His eyes were closed as his hips thrust back and forth. He was unaware that he was coating one of his students in rivers of semen. Lucy stopped struggling with Franklin’s surging beast and allowed his explosive cum-shots to play themselves out against her tummy. At least her breasts were blocking any splashes from messing her face and hair.

Franklin came down from his orgasmic high. As he opened his eyes he said, “Lucy, you were fantas ... oh dear.” Her clothes were dripping with cum, and her looks were a mixture of angry and forlorn. He grabbed his wilting cock in one hand and his pants in the other. He waddled to a nearby supply closet which held cleaning supplies as well as things for class. He took a roll of paper towels off a shelf. “Here you go,” he said as he tossed the roll in her direction.

Lucy caught the roll and pulled off a string of a half-dozen sheets. For three solid minutes, she soaked up cum, blotted cum and rubbed at cum. The plastic lined trashcan next to Franklin’s desk was filling with cum soaked paper towels. She pulled off a string of sheets that emptied the roll, but then simply stopped. She looked at Franklin and said, “There’s no point. I can’t go to class like this. I need to change my clothes.”

Franklin had put away his wilted cock, straightened his clothing and looked as if nothing had happened. “Yes, of course,” he said. He opened a drawer of his desk and took out a pad of forms. He scribbled on it for several seconds and said, “Here is a pass. Take whatever time you need to go home and change, just show it in the office when you return. You can, uh, you can go out the door on the west wing. If anyone sees you simply say Mr. Franklin is an idiot and he spilled – I don’t know, something or another on you.”

Lucy felt frustration mixed with a tinge of anger overlaid with a sense of triumph that her handsome teacher’s mighty cock had erupted because of her. Very calmly she said, “I don’t have my car. I caught a ride to school today,”

“Oh, right, okay,” Franklin said, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a car key and its attendant electronic fob. He nodded toward the outside wall of the room. “Take my car. It’s in the faculty lot. It’s the blue one.”

Lucy took the key without comment. She went to the door of the classroom and peeked out. There were a couple of students down the hall, but they’d be behind her. She hurried to the outside door and exited the building. Turning right, she went down a flight of concrete stairs into the faculty parking.

“Shit,” she muttered. There were three blue cars that she could see. She should have asked Mr. Franklin what make of car he drove. She squeezed the unlock button on the key fob and was rewarded with a chirp emanating from behind a van. She walked toward the sound and found her blue car alright. It was a perfectly cleaned and waxed late model Corvette. “Suits you Mr. F.” she said as she lowered herself into the car. Out of sheer reflex, she had been carrying the last dozen or so sheets of paper towel. She put them in the passenger’s seat, and then proceeded to move the driver’s seat and mirrors to her satisfaction. When Lucy turned the key in the ignition, the big v-eight roared to life and immediately settled down to a soft rumble. Lucy was intimidated by the car. She drove home slowly and safely.

Alone at home, she removed her skirt and blouse. None of Franklin’s thick cum had made it through her clothing. Her soft pink matching bra and panties were unstained. Standing in front of her closet, she saw that she didn’t have much to choose from. She was way behind in dealing with her laundry. She settled on a black pleated skirt. For a top, the only thing available was a simple, tan cotton crew neck. She had purchased it when her boobs hadn’t fully matured, so now the material stretched and dipped between her breasts. The fashion police at school might not like it. “But it’ll have to do,” she muttered to herself.

When Lucy settled back into the Corvette, she saw that she had a comfortable amount of time to make her second period class. She was halfway to the school when she heard the whoop of a siren and saw flashing blue lights on the car behind her. “Oh man,” she whined. “Now what?” She pulled off the road into the parking lot of a mostly abandoned old strip mall that was empty except for a couple of cars at a laundromat. The police cruiser stopped between the Corvette and the highway. The cop who emerged from the car looked to be in his mid-thirties. He was only of average height, but he obviously worked out as evidenced by his bulging biceps and well defined chest. Lucy lowered her window at his approach. He had to bend over to look in the car.

“Can I see your license?” he asked.

“Sure,” Lucy said. As she pulled her driver’s license from her pocket, she could practically feel his gaze running up and down her body. She handed him the license and said, “Why did you pull me over?”

The cop looked from the license to her and then back again a couple of times. “You were doing forty-seven miles per hour in a forty-five zone,” he said.

Lucy bit back some harsh words. Who the hell got pulled over for being two miles over the limit? Especially as the cop had to have seen a dozen cars pass her doing fifty or fifty-five. It didn’t make sense ... oh. She wasn’t sitting here because she had been speeding. She was here because she had been caught being blonde and beautiful in a Corvette.

She smiled at the cop and said, “Gee, I really can’t afford a ticket, and I’m just trying to make my next class at school. Is there any way we can resolve this right here?”

“I’m not sure,” the cop said. He straightened and stepped so close the ‘Vette that his crotch filled the car window.

Lucy saw the cock-bulge in his pants. She knew that she should be disgusted, but what the hell, give the man a thrill. She pulled down his zipper, but she couldn’t unbuckle his pants without undoing his duty belt. She doubted the man would stand for his weapon and equipment hitting the ground. Perhaps he was soft enough to pull his cock out through the slit. Her fingers slid into the opening. She pushed at the material of his pants and pulled on his cock-shaft until the thing popped into view. No, his dick wasn’t soft at all. In fact, it was thoroughly hard. The only reason she’d been able to pull it through his fly though, was that it merely six – perhaps generously seven inches long.

“Ohhh,” she said so softly the officer couldn’t possibly hear, “look at you. You’re so tiny and cute.” And slim, she could wrap her fingers all the way around his shaft. She stroked him a couple of times and was rewarded with a drop of pre-cum as it oozed out. Her tongue darted out and caught the drop. It tasted like a salty tear. The bulging head looked so inviting; she engulfed it with her mouth and gave it a good tongue lashing. This sort of thing was impossible with ordinary guys. She’d heard of women who’d dislocated their jaws trying it.

The cop’s dick put her in mind of a boy she’d dated, Tommy Fells. He’d been small too. That had been a couple of years ago. She hoped Tommy had grown for his sake. Anyway, she had decided to make Tommy her first lover. She had assumed that his would be a good starter cock, something that wouldn’t hurt when he penetrated her pussy. To her surprise and despite his furious humping and bumping, Lucy hadn’t been sure that he was in her their first time. For certain, he’d done nothing to excite her. She had to fake an orgasm during all three of their couplings. Then they’d had an argument and she had taken the opportunity to drop him like a hot potato.

The officer’s hips had been pushing against the window opening. Now his thrusts became urgent. He was about to come. It struck Lucy that the man was about to coat the interior of Mr. Franklin’s car, not to mention her clothing, with a shower of cum. She thought of shoving him aside so he would spew his semen on the ground, but no, that wouldn’t work. She was strong but not that strong. Her eye caught sight of the wad of paper towels on the passenger’s seat. Thank goodness, she thought as she grabbed it up and shoved it against the officer’s cock-head.

That seemed to trigger his orgasm. His body shuddered and she felt his cock jump in her fingers. A couple of seconds passed. Lucy froze in place. Surely he wasn’t done. That little tremor had to be some sort of prelude to his real orgasm. His body relaxed and she could feel his cock-shaft softening. That really was all he had. She turned the paper towels and looked. There was an ounce, maybe two, of watery, yellowish cum. The poor man was veritably impotent.

Lucy wadded the towels into a ball and tossed it back onto the seat as the officer put away his wilted cock. He took a step away from the Corvette and bent down. “This is someone else’s car, isn’t it?” he said as he handed back her driver’s license.

“Yes, it is,” she said. She didn’t feel like explaining any further.

“No, girls like you don’t have to pay for cars like this,” he said as if someone bemoaning the ways of the world. As he turned to walk away he said, “You have a nice day.”

Lucy made sure her window was rolled up before she said, “Gee, what an asshole. You don’t know me.” She got the Corvette straight in the road and punched it. Needle-dick was going to make her late for class.

Lucy parked the Corvette in the space she’d found it and ran to the main entrance of the school. At the school office, she showed her pass to a pimply faced office assistant. He noted the time she’d arrived on the pass, initialed it and handed it back. “Show – show this to your teacher,” he stammered as he spoke to her chest.

Lucy took a calming breath as she went to her second period. She was already a few minutes late, and besides, it wasn’t as if this was a real class. Most seniors had a period during the day when they assisted a teacher or simply had study hall. Lucy worked as a librarian’s assistant. She entered the library through its double doors and crossed to Ms. Dale’s desk where the librarian was seated. She put the pass on the desk. Ms. Dale looked at the pass, looked at the time on the computer she was using, and then tossed the pass into a drawer, all without glancing at Lucy.

Lucy crossed the library to where the assistant’s desk was located. She was relieved when she saw that none of the students in attendance were coming to ask for help. There were plenty of books in the library, but there were plenty of computers too. Contrary to the belief that all kids know everything about all computers, Lucy often had to help students with document handling, research and what programs to apply to student goals and projects.

She signed into the computer on her desk. While waiting for it to load her personal preferences, Lucy contemplated Ms. Olivia Dale. The woman had cute, elfin looks complete with dark hair that was cut short and appeared perpetually uncombed. Lucy could see that was an affectation. Her hair had many artfully planned layers to it and probably cost a pretty penny to maintain. There was a rumor at school that she was a lesbian. Word was that she had been seen going into a GLBT bar wearing stilettos, sheer black stockings and a black leather skirt that barely covered her butt.

Lucy wondered what it would be like to be with a girl. She wasn’t repulsed by the idea of kissing another girl. That was sort of a thing now. Girls kissed their friends or total strangers in a video, and then put it on the Internet. She typed “girls kissing girls” in her browser. She was surprised to see her screen fill with pictures of girls kissing and links to videos. Apparently, the school’s filtering software didn’t consider kissing, even same-sex kissing, to be porn. She clicked on an icon and was linked to a video of a whole series of girls getting their kiss on.

A new couple flashed onto the screen every thirty seconds or so. The novelty of girl on girl action quickly wore off, and she began to critique each couple as to style, intensity and passion. Clearly, most of the girls were mugging for the camera. They’d mash their mouths together so hard it looked painful. Some giggled their way through their video. There were professional videos of young women who were perfectly made up and perfectly lit. And then there were the couples who seemed genuinely into their passion. Some kissed tenderly and affectionately, others left no doubt that there was more exciting action to come. They...

“What are you watching?” hissed a voice practically inside her ear.

Lucy gasped and almost leapt off her chair. Students in the library looked up at her in amusement or curiosity. She looked over her shoulder to see Ms. Dale standing there. Lucy had been so engrossed in the video, she hadn’t notice the librarian. “I ... I just ... uh came across this,” Lucy stammered.

“Turn that off and come with me,” Dale said.

Lucy dutifully shut the browser and followed Ms. Dale to a second room of the library. This one was totally devoted to bookshelves. At its rear was a door with a sign that limited access. Dale opened the door and ushered Lucy inside. The construction of Lucy’s school predated the Internet so this slice of the library had been partitioned off to hold computer equipment. There were numerous steel racks fastened to the walls filled with routers and such. Neatly bundled wires connected everything together. In the center of the narrow room was a break in the racks where an old desk was jammed against a wall. Lucy went to the desk and turned to await Ms. Dale.

Dale stood across from Lucy, glowering. She was wearing a black, calf-length full skirt, white button up shirt and a black blazer with gold buttons. Its sleeves were pushed up to the elbows. The woman had almost no figure. With her short hair and seen from a distance, anyone would think she was a boy. Dale jammed her hands into the pockets of the blazer and said, “Are you mocking me? What was I supposed to make of that display out there?”

Lucy wondered what in the hell the woman was talking about. She felt her ire begin to rise. “Mock you?” she snapped. “I barely know who you are. You gave me my duties on the first day of school and haven’t said a dozen words to me since. The question should be what’s your problem with me?”

Emotions chased themselves across Dale’s face. She looked surprised, then questioning and then settled on determination. After an awkward silence, she said, “I’ll tell you what my problem with you is. You come in here with your perfect mane of blonde hair, your deep blue eyes and your perfect face. I have a problem with your tits all jutting out all big and bold and sexy as hell, and the fact that I could almost put my hands around your waist. I have a problem with your bubble butt and your sleek, perfectly shaped, long legs.”

As she spoke, Olivia moved slowly toward Lucy. Lucy tried to step back, but that only forced her to sit on the desk. She could feel the librarian’s fresh breath on her cheek as she spoke. Olivia’s face was merely an inch from hers. “And I really, really,” Olivia said in the most intimate of whispers, “have a problem with your pouty, kissable lips.” Olivia kissed her in a series of light, lingering kisses that grew firmer and longer. Her tongue brushed Lucy’s lips and then parted them and withdrew. Lucy felt her vagina fill with hot blood. This was daring and forbidden and erotic. She sucked on the tip of Olivia’s tongue and flicked it with her own. She felt Olivia’s hand on her knee and a second later it had moved under her skirt. This was no tickle with her finger tips, Olivia meant business. Her hand pressed onward, forcing Lucy’s legs apart. With astonishing ease, Olivia swept aside the crotch band of Lucy’s panties and forced her fingers into Lucy’s cunt.

“Oh-my-god,” Lucy moaned as Olivia’s thumb pressed onto her clit. She finger-fucked Lucy hard and fast. Somehow her thumb was able to whip back and forth on Lucy’s hard clit with every stroke. Lucy’s back arched even as she bent at the waist to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her pussy.

Olivia’s eyes stared intently at Lucy’s face as if to gage her handiwork. She looked determined to make the beautiful blonde orgasm. “Yesss,” she hissed. “That’s it.”

Lucy was no stranger to masturbation and orgasms. She’d probably fingered her clit until she came a few thousand times now. But she’d never assaulted her pussy like Olivia was doing now. The woman was relentless. Her hand plunged in and out of Lucy’s pussy with a near savage intensity. Her thumb banged into Lucy’s clit relentlessly.

For Lucy, the erotic assault was so pleasurable it was painfully intense. Her orgasm didn’t come at the end of a buildup of mounting waves of sensuality; it exploded in her pussy. Her back arched and her eyes rolled back in her head. Her entire body jerked and vibrated uncontrollably. When Lucy regained her senses, Olivia was standing there with a box of tissues in hand. “Here,” the librarian said, you’ll want to clean up.” Lucy plucked a half dozen tissues and Olivia turned sideways to give her a modicum of privacy. “Obviously, my problem with you is that I find you so attractive. I’ve been dreaming about seeing your O-face ever since the first of the school year.” She turned back to Lucy and took the soiled tissues from her hand. Holding them to her nose, she breathed in the aroma. “My god, even your pussy juice is sweet and perfect.” She wrapped the tissues in some fresh ones and tossed them in a trashcan. She smiled at Lucy. “Now you know some of the pleasures a woman can give you. In the right setting, my lips and tongue can have you sweating on bedsheets for hours at a time.” She brushed her lips on Lucy’s. “All you have to do is ask.”

Lucy’s math class was her next period. The teacher rarely asked for her students to interact, and Lucy was glad to have the fifty minutes to get her bearings. Was she bisexual now? Maybe. The thought of having Oliva Dale’s face planted between her legs wasn’t repulsive. Not that she was eager to do it anytime soon, or ever. She was still contemplating the state of her sexuality when the bell rang. Thank goodness, she thought. It was lunch time and she was ravenous.

Lucy’s school could afford a chef who could make nutritious food desirable to a bunch of finicky teenagers. Lucy piled her plate high and joined some of her friends from the track team at their usual table in the cafeteria. As she finished practically inhaling her lunch, one of the office helpers appeared at her side. “Principal Young wants to see you when you’ve finished eating,” the pimply faced girl said.

“Oh, okay, sure,” Lucy said.

“Oooo, Lucy has a date with Mr. Young,” one of her friends said in a singsong voice.

The school’s principal, Bill Young, was a hunk. Slightly above average height, he had broad shoulders and always looked fit. He had short, sandy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He could be disarmingly charming, and he could also cut wrongdoers in half with his scathing wit. Rarely were students summoned to his office for the charming part.

Lucy disposed of her lunch tray and headed for the office. On her way she stepped into a restroom. There were a few girls there sucking away on their e-cigs. Lucy ignored them and checked her look in the mirror. She ran a comb through her hair, checked her teeth for food bits and touched up her lip gloss. She sighed at her reflection. Any more primping and she’d just be stalling. What could the principal want with her?

Lucy entered the school’s office which was more than a little noisy with teachers and students doing their thing during the free time of a lunch period. She pulled open the heavy glass door of the principal’s outer office and stepped in. The noise went away as the door closed with a hydraulic sigh. Ms. Buckland, an attractive young woman who had been a student at the school not long ago and was now Young’s executive assistant, was at her desk. Lucy was about to sit in one of the visitor’s chairs when Buckland said, “Go right in, Lucy.”

Lucy nodded her thanks and stepped through the open door. It was the nicely appointed office of a school for rich kids. Thick carpeting was under foot. There was a sitting area at one end, with a leather sofa and chairs. There were dozens of framed photographs and documents of the schools certification hung on the walls. At the other end of the room was Mr. Young’s desk with its chairs for guests. The desk was massive, made of cherry and always looked as if it had been recently polished.

“Lucy, please come in,” Young said from behind the desk.

Lucy turned to her right and was startled to see Adam Franklin arise from one of the chairs in front of Young’s desk. He smiled at her and gestured for her to take his place. “Hi,” she said uncertainly and took the chair. She heard the office door close and then Franklin joined them by taking the other guest chair.

Principal Young leaned forward and interlaced his fingers on top of his desk. “I understand you came to see Mr. Franklin before classes this morning. Want to tell me about that?”

Lucy glanced at Franklin, but he was staring vacantly into space. “Uh, it’s simple enough,” Lucy said. “I’ve made late admissions to some colleges and I want to be sure my grades are as good as they can be. But I’ve been so busy lately, I wasn’t able to study for my history quiz. I asked Mr. Franklin if I could take a makeup test later.”

“And what did he say?” Young asked.

Lucy shrugged and steeled herself to not look at Franklin. “I thought we were about to come an arrangement when he spilled something on my clothes. I had to run home to change and missed the test anyway,” she said.

“Ironically enough,” Young said with a smile. He put a pen on top of a sheet of paper and pushed it across his desk. “I think we can settle this. If you’ll just print your name on top of this answer sheet?”

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