Chapter 2

Kerri's eyes snapped open, free of sleep. She felt awake, alive, as though she was inhabiting her own body for the first time. The pain in her joints had subsided, and felt suffused with a new energy. Smiling, she removed her sticky fingers from her still-wet pussy, a thrill of pleasure shooting through her as she deliberately ran a finger over her clitoris. Surprisingly, it didn't feel chafed or raw at all, unlike her previous marathon masturbations.

Drawing her hand up out from underneath the sheets, she noticed the heady aroma of sex in the air... sweet, musky, alluring. Bringing her glistening fingers upwards, the aroma became stronger, more compelling. Tentatively, Kerri lapped at her own index finger, pink tongue flicking out like a cat's. Then again. And again. Soon, both her index and middle fingers were well-within her mouth as she sucked every last iota of sweet cunt-cream from them.

"Yum!" She thought. "Pussy tastes goo-ood. Well, mine does, anyway." Pulling her fingers out with an audible pop! she proceeded to give each a long, loving slurp from top to bottom before noticing that they looked much more youthful than before, and certainly better than a pair of fingers that had spent so much time in the wetness of her cunt. The skin looked taut and smooth; hell, that scar on her ring finger from when she tore her wedding ring off before hurling it at her good-for-nothing ex had vanished!

Curious, Kerri swung herself out of bed. Her limbs moved with a kind of catlike grace, each movement liquid, deliberate. She felt powerful, predatory, and stalked across the room, walking naturally on her toes, not making a noise.

Approaching the mirror, she found herself almost at a loss to recognize the face staring back at her. The features were still recognizeably Kerri's, but her eyes shone with blue heat, and her lips looked as if they had recieved a subtle collagen enhancement - just that little bit plumper that she'd always wanted, perfectly pink pillows for kissing, or wrapping around a throbbing cock. The kind of lips that would give any dick a wet, cushioned ride. The kind of lips that begged to be painted in semen. Her skin glowed golden, free of imperfection. Though the ravages of time had been erased, one could still tell that here stood a mature woman; an experienced sex- goddess. If her eyes were blue flame, then her curly mane was the full campfire spectrum, from crimson all the way to gold.

On a sudden impulse, the school teacher and mother pulled the flannels up and over her head. The revelation of her body elicited an audible gasp from Kerri's new cocksucker mouth.

Not even in the rosiest blush of youth had she ever looked so... so... so fuckably delicious. Her body was the image of toned female flesh, taut, firm, and silky smooth to the touch, and touch she did, running her hands over her torso in fascination. She cupped her breasts, perfect handfuls of titflesh, riding high on her chest; rosy nipples, with dollar-sized aureolae stiffened at the first touch of her fingertips, and sent a delicious shiver through her body. Kerri played with her tits for a while, almost entranced by the sounds of pleasure which burst forth from her own lips and the sight of her own body. The subtle muscles in her abdomen rippled with each gasp, and the juices from her pussy flowed freely from between hairless labia, down, down, down over long, firm thighs, the curve of her calves, to pool between her suckable little toes.

Kerri had never cum from having her tits played with, but she was well on her way to orgasm now. Which is why when she stopped, it came as a complete surprise; it was as if some voice, some deep, dark, sexy voice from the bottom of her soul had shouted up to her to save it, to wait, to simmer until the time was right.

"I've got more important things to do today, anyway," she said to herself, recovering quickly. "It's only eleven. I can get back to work before the lunch period is over, save half a sick-day for when I really need it."

She sauntered off to the shower, muscular ass cutting figure-eights through the air, never seeing the tattoo that had appeared just below her tailbone. The pointed tail curved down between her buttocks, an invitation to any and all who were lucky enough to see.

Coming back from lunch, room 215 was in a state of genial chaos. The lads of Ms. Strauss' Fourth Period English class had already heard that their teacher was out today, and were looking forward to the opportunity to torture a substitute for the hour. After all, a bunch of pubescent 14-year-olds in an all-boys school had a lot of energy to burn off.

St. Chrysosome's was one of the last single-sex schools in the region, and they were all painfully aware of the lack of female presence in their lives, except for a few teachers, most of whom were beyond ancient, insofar as the adolescent mind was concerned. Ms. Strauss was one of the "new guard" at the school, which meant that she could count the number of decades that her life spanned on one hand without having to use her thumb. As such, she was already the object of several confused sexual fantasies of her students; most of them, who knew sex only in a purely theoretical form, knew that they wanted to do *something* with the still-pretty red-head, but couldn't quite figure out what. Of course, some of them, a touch more advanced in education than the rest (thanks in no small part to the internet and lax parenting), had a few fairly specific fantasies.

They were throwing around one of Leon Kolodny's gym shoes like a football, playing keep-away while the smaller boy danced from one boy to another, begging them to give it up; they almost didn't even notice when the classroom door opened. Almost.

A wave of silence spread from the open door all the way back to the corner where a knot of lads had Leon leaping for his shoe like a dog after a sausage.

"Afternoon, boys," Kerri said, coming in. Her generous lips were curved in a wicked smile at the surprise registering on the young faces before her.

Her suit was an old one, but it looked like new, wrapped lovingly around her curves. It was light blue, of a fabric that swished as the flared hem of the skirt floated just above her knees; Kerri was giving the lads brief glimpses of her thighs as she walked in a deliberate, hip-swinging motion, placing one high-heeled foot directly in front of the other, striding with the confidence of a runway model.

There was an odour in the air that tasted delicious to her; it was fresh, it was light, it was a touch musky. It smelled like innocence, an entire room full of innocence, just waiting to be devoured.

Devoured? The new thought caused her a moment of concern, though it didn't show as she strutted towards her desk, allowing her boys to get a look at the luscious globes of her ass tightly gripped by her skirt, the smooth lines unmarred by any evidence of panties.

Why would she want to devour anything? To consume their innocence? To take these fresh-faced boys, and corrupt them beyond recognition? To take Arnold over there, the soccer player, and fulfill his fantasy of having one or several fingers shoved up his ass while he fucked his homeroom teacher? To drink deep of his untainted soul?