Sex for Grades

by maryjane

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft, ft/ft, Coercion, First, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Cream Pie, Teacher/Student, .

Desc: Sex Story: Sometimes the girl is the aggressor. But not this time. Carrie wants to stay on the Cheerleading Squad. Dr. Wild can give her a failing grade in math, but won't, if only she would...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: My brother Ric and I have collaborated on a number of postings, I writing as the female and he as the male. They've usually been written as alternating sections or chapters. In this one, we've chosen to present it mostly by reciting the thoughts going through the minds of the two major players. Instead of using something like 'he thought' and 'she thought', we decided to use italics for all thoughts, identifying the thinker by the words used. Please let us know if you like the presentation or if it gives you a headache. Thank you.

The 'she' in this story is Carolyn Melvin (Carrie), a high school senior. The 'he' is Doctor Kenneth Wild, her math teacher.

Question One: What does it mean when two sixteen year old girls stop in the middle of one of their usual wrestling matches at one of their regular sleep-overs?

Answer One: It means that they have simultaneously decided to finally go where their minds have been gradually but inexorably taking them for several months, to put a toe into that sweet pool of female surrender, of which most of them have read and/or heard, have thought about, have sometimes fantasized, and, more than you would guess, have tried. Some take to it like a fish to water, others taste it just so they can say that they did so, and many choose to alternate their lustful contacts in varying percentages between the two genders. But right now we're only talking about those two teen girls.

And so it was that Janie and Carrie, best friends since the beginning of time, were one evening wrestling in Janie's bed. By that point, Carrie was lying on her back and Janie was sitting on Carrie's stomach. Janie was trying to get Carrie's arms pinned down alongside her head, the symbol of wrestling victory. Carrie on the other hand had her arms tightly crossed over her chest, her wrists on each breast. Janie reached under Carrie's right wrist, above her left breast. As the tug-of-war proceeded, Janie's hand slipped off the wrist and her open palm cupped Carrie's breast.

Time stopped, the pendulum frozen in place. The world ceased to rotate on its axis. Birds fell silent in mid-chirp. The only sounds were the inhale and exhale of two sets of young lungs, the only movement the rise and fall of four breasts as those lungs filled and emptied. Trapeze artists hung in midair. The girls' eyes locked on one another. While neither young woman said a word, those eyes spoke volumes to each other. What are we about to do with each other? Why has it taken so long for us to get to this point? What will happen tomorrow and all the other tomorrows? Should we stop? Fuck no; Que sera, sera. (An old movie line; look it up.)

Janie removed her hand from Carrie's breast and her fingers slowly, carefully, opened the three buttons which held the two sides of Carrie's pajama top together. Two hands gently kneaded the two remarkable breasts beneath her. Two thumbs flicked two nipples as they grew and hardened.

Carrie's hands, now freed from the wrestling battle, grasped the bottom of Janie's pull-over top and slid it over her friend's head. Both now topless, it was easy to see that Janie was not quite as well endowed as Carrie. That was no news to either girl, for they had often seen each other in the buff, in dressing rooms, in locker rooms and in other totally platonic situations. Carrie lifted her head from the bed and began to nurse on Janie's left nipple.

Janie's pussy moistened as she allowed her friend to suck. But soon she removed Carrie's mouth from her tit and pushed the head back down on the bed. She lay down next to Carrie and they kissed, kisses that had once been pecks on cheeks now fastened onto lips. The kiss lasted longer than any they had ever had with one of their high school boy friends. Then quietly the kiss instinctively morphed into a duel of tongues, eyes closed, soft humming moans the new sound.

As one, they parted, jumping off on either side of the bed. Pajama bottoms were shucked and they stood naked, pussies defended only by the fuzzy growths that they had agreed to retain until both had lost their badges of innocence, their cherries. Each was aware that both were virgins, for they were so closely bound that when one of them had given in finally to those boys and their desperate blandishments, she would certainly tell the other within hours.

Carrie reached her hand across the bed. With a smile, Janie took it, stuck out her free hand to hit the light switch and they both fell onto the bed. A small night light was the only illumination. Janie had not feared the darkness since the first sleep after she had left the crib for a 'big girl bed', but her mother still insisted, as mothers from time to time are wont to do.

Face to face they lay. They had kissed, with tongue, they had felt breasts, they had suckled. Each knew where her own hand should next go, and yet they both hesitated. For once either set of fingers touched the wetness of the other, spread the lips which served as the gate and the entrance to a woman's special place, the die would be cast.

In the lexicon of the ages, some consider that the word 'fucking' denotes the joining of cock and cunt. But in the absence of cock, the adaptability of our language can accept the idea that whenever anything going into a cunt, it can be called 'fucking'. Some people might use modifiers, such as 'finger fucking' or 'tongue fucking' or 'vegetable fucking'. Stretching the definition, one might even eliminate the need for cunt, as in 'mouth fucking' or 'ass fucking'.

Of course, in the language of boy children, anything allowed inside any orifice of a woman amounts to a 'home run'.

I think Janie's as nervous as me. I want to touch her so badly, to feel inside of her. I am so fucking hot, I want to eat her, I want to taste her. But I like boys; I don't want to become a lesbian. Fuck it, here goes nothing.

Carrie slid two fingers inside of Janie's cunt, twisting her wrist to spread Janie's vaginal walls. As she did so, she moved her body downward fastening on her friend's nipples, and then to her stomach. Janie held Carrie's head against her, not to control it but to make sure that it didn't slip away. After a few seconds, she gently pushed down, directing Carrie's mouth to the fuzziness of her snatch.

She wants me. She wants me to push my tongue in there, into that beautiful cunt. She's like Circe, her beautiful music drawing me ever closer and closer to the shore, to the rocks that will destroy me. Yet I know, I know instinctively that the love of woman for woman is not bad, is not evil, will not destroy me. Even Mom, my shy and blessed mother, has alluded to that in her own genteel way. So spread 'em, Janie, prepare for the orgasm of your life.

Carrie's mouth took over as her brain paused for a nap. She sucked the tasty moisture from her friend's loins, but could never make her dry, for the lubrication kept flowing, a veritable Niagara of lust. Her lips fastened on her lover's clit, using it tightly like a straw, and then backing off only to allow her tongue to wash it.

I think that this is what I'm supposed to do when I'm starting to suck on a cock.

Suddenly Janie grabbed Carrie's head and rolled the two of them over. In a frenzy, she humped her pussy down against Carrie's face. It ended quickly when Janie fell forward over her friend's head and clamped her mouth onto a soft pillow to blur the sound of her screaming, squirting orgasm.

They lay silently next to each other, waiting for normal breathing to return.

I can't wait for her to go down on me the way I just did on her. And yet I can't believe that the pleasure she's going to give me can be any more than the pleasure I just got making her cum.

They made love several times a week. They continued through the end of their Junior year, over the summer and into the start of the following term. Early on Janie's mother had found them asleep, their naked bodies entwined. Her only reaction had been to hug them when they woke. Carrie then told her mother and got essentially the same reaction. Both mothers knew to knock before entering a room when the girls were together.

And then one night...

Oh jeez, I still can't believe how much I love the aroma of her pussy. And the beauty of her glistening labia. Still can't figure out why she was so reluctant to let me eat her during her period. It tastes fine; really sexy. Damn, this is so much more fun than doing math homework. Every day wouldn't be enough.

An hour later they lay side by side, thoroughly sated. Their pussies were still soaked, nipples still tender, eyes shiny, cheeks flushed. As their breathing slowed, they smiled at each other, as lovers, as friends.

"Hey Carrie, how's that new math teacher you've got?" That was her bff Janie, and they had been friends since kindergarten.

"He's a no good fuck. Too much homework, nasty in class and I know that he's going to fail me for the first section. I'll be off the cheerleaders any day now."

"But he looks like a real hunk, doesn't he?" asked Janie.

"He's a fucking eunuch. Or else he's gay. He doesn't even look when I flash some skin."

Which was true. Back in the damn second row, I can't spread my legs and show him some panty. But if I spread my legs and keep one out from under the desk, he can see my bare thigh. The fuck just doesn't look.

"It's only the first week," Janie said, studying Carrie's breasts. "Why don't you open one or two buttons when you go to class to get his attention?"

Question Two: Why would a sixteen year old blonde virgin named Paula, who was doing poorly in her math class, go to the apartment of her handsome, unmarried math teacher?

.... There is more of this story ...

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