Chapter 13

The start of my real slide in not taking it all seriously enough was when Alice took her top off. This was maybe early July when she left nothing but a small V of fabric between her legs. Nice tits, a real handful each, and they called to me in a way no man’s dick did. Dicks were for fucking, which was fine and very good, but they also symbolized a kind of dark violence I willingly gave myself up to.

Opening my legs to a guy and his raging boner was fun in a dark sort of way, the man’s grunts and groans of completion always sounding like some warrior announcing victory at the end of some bloody battle. Yeah, sometimes with a nice wet payoff of my own, but didn’t lessen the victor’s slap to my ass or teeth marks on my tits. In some way, with every guy I ever allowed to push into me with his dick, I was fucking the guy back, and not just out of that primal need for sex. I’d slap and pound on his back and grunt in anger and pleasure and desire, in all ways reacting to the man and the fuck as if I was in combat with a demon opponent.

Alice’s smile and breasts and, being truthful, lower lips promised something different than any wild sexual wrestling match with a random guy. Without saying a word the girl offered me peace, a soft place to lay my inner turmoil if not my head. Literally and metaphorically, soft and gentle and without the physical and mental stresses of a demanding cock.

Looking over at her pert white mounds and tiny pink areolas and nipples, all the world seemed to slow and quieten. I wondered why Ken allowed his girl to show it all off like that. She said that it didn’t matter with college guys, that they’d seen it all, and that it was kind of fun. Meaning she liked being a tease. I also found out later that it was Ken (of course), who had pushed her to drop her top, probably in hopes of attracting guys to hang out by the pool. I’m also certain that he knew I’d follow suit.

By the end of that day I did the same, showing my tits and laughing to myself as passing guys wet themselves. Other girls that showed up to hang out usually followed our lead, tanning their chests while fully aware they were driving their boyfriends and the rest of Ken’s male clients crazy. Made me think it was all a game, done for fun, and with little in the way of real world consequences. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Ken knew his clientele. Guys did come and spend, offering me and Alice free goods and offers of rides to restaurants and their own homes. Alice knew to stay at Ken’s side, so I took up the slack. My bare breasts were such good advertisements for my services that I had to start taking appointments. Seriously. I was even able to make demands of the guys, like requiring they supply their own condoms. Business became a little too good.

That growing nonchalance about my body and sex is why I think I was caught with my guard down, doing stupid things and making fateful decisions around a much older man with lusty intent.

The nuclear knockdown happened to me in late July. You see, in order to ease the number of courses I’d need for graduation, I was forced to take a summer course at my high school. Total bullshit, of course. Something didn’t transfer, some definition of “American History” got lost and retranslated, and there I was, walking across the stage at graduation knowing I’d have to take summer school. Really ticked me off.

Only six weeks but all morning and every day. Classes began in late June, and after every class I’d take the bus over to do my duty at Ken’s place. That gave me a full afternoon and early evening of warm summer side-work, easing my boredom while I had fun waging war with college guys a half-dozen years older than me.

Then, just one week before the end of my short summer session, things went sideways. I’d chosen to wear a simple sun dress to class, something that was maybe one size too small for my maturing body. Why? Because the old guy who taught the history class for the first week of the six week class suddenly dropped out of sight The last-minute replacement was a very young and very handsome young man home on break from his studies at some out of state university.

Anthony L., fresh from a year of grad study in early American history, and earning a little money babysitting some high school students for the summer. Tall, slightly dark, very handsome, and with the easy manner of a young man who was sure of himself and his place in the world. While discussing American colonialism, he had let drop that his father was from El Salvador but that his mother’s family was second generation out of Mexico. His accent was slight, and though the students in class really didn’t care, this made him just foreign enough to be considered exotic and appealing.

Normally we all wore shorts and a shirt or top, girls rarely braving the heat with a bra, and everybody in sandals or even flip-flops. When the handsome young professor took over, we girls giggled in the back corner and paid a little more attention in class, but nobody considered him as someone we’d date. Many of us dressed a little more risqué, openly teasing the poor man, but we were never serious. Fun to think or joke about, but at the end of class we all went our separate ways.

I normally wore loose shorts and a shirt to school, changing into my swimsuit (sans top) once by the side of Ken’s pool. Study in the morning, work through the afternoon, then home for a meal and sleep.

On this most important day in history, I was feeling frisky, maybe a little too daring, and chose to wear a simple sun dress with nothing underneath but a pair of panties.

I knew what I was doing. I can’t look back and claim total ignorance. The night before, I’d even done a careful shave, making doubly sure no hairs could be seen beyond the edge of my bikini briefs. With Deanna whispering into my ear, I shaved more of my labia than I was used to. My body might have been small, barely over five-one on my eighteenth birthday, but my tits were full and firm, just like my ass.

I intentionally left my bra behind, giving the whole classroom something to look at, especially when my nipples hardened and pushed through the thin fabric of my dress. But I wasn’t interested in the boys I was surrounded by. I got all the attention I needed at Ken’s. I just wanted to have some fun with Anthony, our history teacher. Not for sex or anything serious. I just wanted to flash him, to mess with his head, to give me something to laugh and feel superior about.

To me I wasn’t being all that daring, my brain having been numbed by past sexual experiences and my loose life around Ken’s pool. Lots of girls wore less, and even with my prominent place in the front row of desks, I wasn’t surprised when Anthony showed more interest in the impact of the flu spreading around the country and world in 1918 than in my burgeoning tits and outstretched legs.

I tried sitting up straight and tightening the fabric over my tits. No reaction. Then I pulled my legs in, stretching my knees wide, which caused the lower hem of the dress to pull way up. I made sure that when Anthony was in one corner of the room and pointing at the map or something on the white board, he would be able to easily see my crotch, my pink panties contrasting with the light yellow of the sun dress.

I was sure he noticed, walking to that part of the room a couple of times, his eyes flicking down but never stuttering or losing his composure. Then I went a little too far. When he turned the lights off and showed the class a ten minute PowerPoint, I used the darkness to move the inner edge of my panties to the side, allowing a good portion of my crotch, pretty much all of my nicely trimmed vulva, to be visible for any set of eyes that cared to look.

Normally I was really self-conscious about my lower regions. Not just worried about some guy seeing my panties, but even embarrassed when other girls might see me naked. I was most worried about my labia minora. Sure, normal labia on the outside, just another pair of rounded lips between my legs that I always kept partly shaven. That’s normal for most girls, but my inner lips were long, like maybe by a good inch or more beyond the edge of those outer mounds. They were long thin dark protrusions that seemed to flap back and forth when I walked if I didn’t have something to hold them in.

Alice’s lower lips were so soft and delicate, with just enough flesh to indicate her sacred feminine space. I always felt self-conscious in comparing my large dark mounds to her pretty pink slit. Of course, my guys from the past never seemed to care. Even Deanna’s brother never said much about what was between my legs. Fat twat? Nobody cared. All the college guys I was messing with were usually just focused on getting off while pushing just a little deeper inside me.

Then I threw caution to the wind, openly flashing my teacher, showing him my big fat fleshy pussy. I hadn’t planned for this, couldn’t even imagine myself doing such a nasty thing with a teacher, and yet in the heat of the moment, I pulled my panties to the side and literally let everything between my legs hang out and announce itself to Anthony’s eyes.

Lights on, teacher walking back and forth, asking questions, and then the fateful pause. Anthony had obviously seen, pausing in the middle of some statement about the rise of socialism in the early 1920s. I remember this distinctly because that’s when everything changed. Anthony saw, his glance under my skirt and between my thighs, eyes widening before giving a quick glance up from my knees to my face, and then nothing. He took a deep breath and moved on, choosing to ignore me and everything his eyes had taken in. My lower lips glowed in the warmth of me knowing that Anthony had seen, and I inwardly laughed at the wicked thoughts that were probably going through his head.

He completed his lecture, gave us a test, and released us at the given time. I smiled to myself, knowing I’d had a bit of illicit fun with the teacher, probably giving him something to fantasize about when he returned home. Sure, I wondered what he’d do, if he’d whack off while thinking about me, even wondering to myself what his dick looked like when hard, but I really didn’t think anything would come of my stupid little game.

As students streamed out of the classroom, I put my things away in my book bag, planning on a visit to the girl’s restroom to put my panties back into their proper place before going on to Ken’s. That’s when Anthony used his deepest and most serious teaching voice to call me out of the crowd of departing students.

“May. Yes, come here. I didn’t receive your end-of-week report last Friday. You know how that will affect your grade.”

I was flustered, taking Anthony seriously and trying to argue about there being a mistake. “Oh. But I did, Mr. L. It was on the Gilded Age. I know I turned it in. It’s on my computer at home. I can email you a copy if you need it.”

“May. You know why I held you back today.” I looked around, saw that all the other students had left, and my brain finally started working again. Anthony had seen, maybe seen everything, and he was calling me on it. I blushed and looked at the ground, nodding my head and wondering what I had gotten myself into.

“You know such displays are a sign of great disrespect toward me.” I nodded. “And you know full well that I could have forced you to leave the class, or possibly even called in the vice-principal, or even your parents.” I nodded again, biting my lip. “In fact, according to the handbook, when a student disrupts class, an instructor may either have a private consultation with the student and come to an agreement on how to ameliorate the situation, or the instructor may call in other parties, such as the student’s parents. Which would you prefer?”

My mind was confused, and all I could really think of was not including my father in this. “Just don’t tell anybody else. Don’t call my parents.”

“So, you want to work this out between the two of us? Fine. Come to the back office and we’ll discuss what you’ve done and how to repair the situation.”

This back office was nothing more than a work space that separated two classrooms. A flimsy door in the cheap partition led to a dark area with book shelves and a couple of desks. Anthony told me to sit in a chair but then backed off, standing and looking down at me.

“Very good. Now do it again. Do what you know so bothered me earlier in class.”

I thought of playing dumb but found it easier to admit to my guilt and play along. I scooted down in the chair, spread my knees, and pulled my dress up a bit. The young man had a frontal view of my naked crotch, the thin floss of my panties still pulled to the side and hiding no part of my very fleshy lower lips from the young man’s eyes.

“Very nice. You’re a very beautiful girl, May. But you know what kind of an effect this has on a man. Don’t you?”

I nodded and bit my lip, knowing absolutely how this would all end.

“Well, I think you had pulled your dress up even further. I remember it being quite high. Go ahead. Do what you’d done earlier in class.”

I pulled my dress up my thighs another few inches, almost even with my crotch. Then he told me to push my ass further out over the edge of the seat. My crotch was already uncovered, my panties still pulled to the side, my inner lips hanging out so much that I blush even now to think about it. That’s when he told me to completely remove my panties. That shocked me, but under Anthony’s stern eyes, I did as he ordered. My whole body was shaking, and when I held my panties out for Anthony, my hand was shaking so badly I could hardly hold on to them.

Then my jaw dropped when Anthony unzipped his slacks and pulled out a fully erect cock. It took him a few seconds, having to pull the rigid length of flesh from where it had been forced to hide, and as he took a step towards me, his pole pointing at the ceiling, I almost slipped off the chair.

“You see this, May? This is what comes of you playing at things you obviously don’t fully comprehend.”

Anthony was tall, a bit over six foot, and the long curving length of mottled brown flesh he held in one hand was in perfect proportion to his height. As he took a couple of steps toward me, I couldn’t take my eyes off the curving length of manly flesh and the fat hairy sac that hung prominently beneath it.

Sure, I’d had lots of experience before, seen a lot of guys, emptying the balls and swallowing the semen of an easy half dozen college men just the prior weekend. Yet this was a whole new setting, a different context, and with a man I had no control over. When Anthony pulled out his pole, my eyes went wide and my face flushed, the heat in my face quickly running down my body to meet the warmth emanating from between my legs.

I was most mesmerized by the tip of his cock, looking completely different from the standard pink or black poles I had to deal with. Anthony’s oddly colored length had dark blue veins running around it, the shape itself looking textured, almost rough. More amazing was that as the thing rose up from between his legs it throbbed, as though calling to me.

I was also amazed at how the top flared out but was slightly flattened. Rather than the mini-missile of some or the simple puffed-out hoods of most of the college guys, Anthony’s length of manhood looked more like an oddly shaped hammer. The inherent violence of the man’s sexual instrument was immediately apparent and I was both attracted to and fearful of what it meant for me. My jaw dropped, my eyes focused on his crotch, and it took the sound of his stern voice to bring me back to reality.

“What do you think I should do, May? You tell me. You started this. How should we finish it?”

I couldn’t answer. My mouth was open, gasping for air, knowing the outcome, but unable to give voice. I just shook my head, my eyes still locked on what Anthony presented to my face.

“Nothing? Well, then I think we both know what’s going to happen.”

And of course, that’s exactly what happened. Anthony kneeled before me, pushing my legs out wide, then slowly moving forward on his knees. I was sure he was going to shove his thick cudgel into me and I closed my eyes, waiting for him to stretch my poor little pussy open and begin a hard passionate fuck.

But no. Instead, I felt his hands reach out and pull down the shoulder straps of my dress, and then came the feel of Anthony’s mouth sucking in my left tit. I opened my eyes and gasped when he nibbled on my nipple, his tongue twirling around and lapping at my stiff dark brown nipple as he continued a nice long suck.

When he moved to my other nipple, I lifted one hand to hold his head, my eyes closing as I gave out a long moan. He used one hand to massage my other bare breast, his mouth doing wonderful things to the other, and I was like a girl who had discovered the secret to life and love and happiness. Forget money and fame and all that nonsense. Anthony and his magic mouth had everything I ever wanted.

Spoiler alert here, but for all the wonderful wild and over the top fucking Anthony pulled me into over our short illicit relationship, the memories I love to go back and relive are of what he could do with his mouth. His lips and teeth and tongue were instruments of torture and pleasure. In my book he remains right up there with Treyvon. Five minutes of him attacking my tits, then lower between my legs for his tongue to excite my clit and bring me to orgasm, made me willing to do anything else the man wanted. Sure, some really good fucking, but on following weeks and months, when I laid back at night and fantasized myself into a happy place, I most often thought of the wonderful things Anthony was able to do with his mouth.

Jeez. I’m getting wet just thinking about it, so you can imagine how wet I was getting when I first experienced Anthony sucking in on my tits. It was only after a couple of minutes of loving what a man could do with his mouth that I realized what he was doing down below.

Anthony’s one hand was massaging and keeping warm my one breast, his fingers keeping my nipple tingling and erect, but his other hand was below, pulling in on my ass to the point that I was about to slip off the edge of the chair. My eyes flew open when I realized what Anthony was doing with that fat-knobbed dick he had between his legs. While the man almost brought me to an orgasm just by sucking on my tits, he was also dry-humping my slit, pushing his fat fleshy length up and back through the length of my labia.

Dry-humping? Not really. I was leaking, wet and ready, and every time the fat tip of his cock passed over my clit, an electric jolt ran through my brain and another dribble of my home-made secretions slid down my thighs. This went on for a couple of torturous minutes, Anthony devoting his oral skills to my naked upper half, ending with a long tonguing kiss I was happy to return, and all while his cock continued to remind my twat what was soon to come.

Then it happened. I felt Anthony’s cock pull back, it’s tip resting within my flaring labia, my lower lips engorged and ready for the man’s assault. He pushed in just a little, that fat knob pressing against the entrance to my vagina. I kind of panicked, my hands pushing against his shoulders as though to push him away and keep me out of danger. Just the opposite happened. I pushed on the man’s shoulders and leaned back, but this forced my hips and open thighs in his direction. I essentially pushed my pussy hard against his cock, forcing my vaginal gates to open and welcome Anthony’s battering ram inside.

One simple thrust in by Anthony’s hips and that fat knob of his was enveloped inside of me. I tried to pull back, yelping and kicking my feet out and trying to turn away, but he had one hand under my ass, preventing me from escaping his assault. Then his other hand came up and wrapped around my throat. I tried to shout when the hood of the man’s cock stretched my poor vagina out to what at the time seemed an unnatural width, but with Anthony’s hand pushing against my windpipe I could only give out a short grunt. Anthony moaned, leaning down to bite my nipple, his mouth pressing into my tit while his lower hand pulled my ass in, forcing ever more of his cock inside of me.

Then he pushed in with his hips, the leading hood slipping deeper into me. And let me tell you, I could feel every inch, my twat feeling like I was being reamed by an ear of corn. This is when he finally released my nipple, raising his head up to give a quick kiss to my cheek before saying, “Oh god, that’s fine.”

He leaned in to give me a real kiss, lips to lips, just a little tongue, before pulling his hips back, only then to push in another two inches. All I could do is grunt in surprise, followed by a moan, my hands reaching out to his shoulders just as my knees convulsed, pushing in against his hips and trying to close.