Miss Davenport's New School

I would have yanked his zipper down and pulled his cock out, but Thomas was watching. I could have let Joey stick it into me in front of him, just to punish him for that morning, but I'm not that cruel.

"Not here, silly boy," I whispered. "Why do you think God made cars have back seats?"

He put his arm around me and, laughing, we walked out of the alley and into the parking lot.

The parking lot was almost as raunchy as the alley. The asphalt was buckled, full of holes and covered with litter. It was surrounded on three sides by the backs or sidewalls of buildings, which were covered in graffiti and ancient, tattered posters. I had been in too much of a hurry this morning to notice, but many of the cars in the lot seemed to be derelicts which were more abandoned than parked. The street on the far side of the lot was empty.

In fact, there was no one else around at all and, as we approached my car, I began to run my hands over Joey's well-muscled body. When we reached my little Toyota, I used the remote to unlock the doors, then suggestively opened the rear door, revealing upholstery which was well stained and worn smooth by previous automotive encounters. I turned to face him and leaned back against the trunk, pressing the palms of my hands against the cool metal, and tilted my head back, as if I expected him to kiss me, which I did.

"There's one hole you haven't tried yet," I cooed and batted my eyelashes in mock modesty, "the best one, my favorite." I didn't have to ask if he'd been serious in the alley. That wonderful bulge in his pants told me all I needed to know.

As soon as he leaned down to press his mouth against mine I threw my arms around him and spread my legs. His right hand found its way under my sweater and his left into my panties in a routine I was fast becoming very fond of.

I unzipped his pants, reached in and began stroking his amazing boner. "How about a test drive?" I whispered in his ear.

Without waiting for an answer, I slid over until the open door was behind me, dragging him with me. I unbuckled his belt and let his pants and shorts drop to his ankles. Then I climbed up on him and locked my legs around the backs of his, so that he was holding me off the ground. He pulled the crotch of my panties to one side and positioned the head of his huge, dark love-beast between my cunt lips, the tip pushing into my pussy and beginning to stretch me deliciously.

Slowly and carefully, he leaned forward and lowered me onto the back seat, gradually working his marvelous monstrosity into my tight, slippery cunt as he did so. I squirmed and writhed under him, kissing him frantically and silently begging him to make it last a long, long time. Once my back was on the smooth fabric, he slid me into the car, inch by inch, until my head was almost against the closed door on the other side, while, inch by inch, he forced his big manhood into my hot, tight love tunnel until I was completely impaled.

For several seconds we lay still, looking into each other's eyes, enjoying the intimacy, the keen ache of our lust, and the anticipation of even more intense pleasure to come. Our feet protruded awkwardly from the open door.

Finally, he broke the silence. "Not a lot of room in here," he said with a little smirk.

"You have a problem with a tight fit?" I asked, mimicking his expression.

"I'd be a lonely man if I did," he answered and began to fuck me – no, to make love to me – with a slow, tender stroke that promised me a better afternoon in the back seat of that old Toyota than I had ever had there before.

For the next hour and a half we made long, luscious, lingering love and never changed position. Gradually, deliberately, almost delicately he drove me from one orgasm to another, each more powerful, more exquisite than the last. Each time he began languorously and increased his pace as my excitement grew. Each time he reined in his own passion so that he could continue and bring me to a new and bigger climax the next time. He seemed to take immense pleasure in giving pleasure to me.

My eighth orgasm was so intense I almost passed out. He remained embedded deeply within me, moving back and forth in small, slow, gentle strokes, just enough to keep himself hard. When I'd recovered enough to talk, I kissed him and said something I thought I would never say, "Look, Sweet Stuff, I don't know if I can keep this up. I thought I was insatiable, but now I'm beginning to think that, if you keep fucking me, you're going to wear me right out. And besides, I want you to cum, too. So let's make this next one the grand finale."

And a very grand finale it was. His cock seemed to have swollen even larger and filled me more completely than I had ever been filled. He sucked tenderly on my rigid nipples. He ground his rough pubic hair against my poor, bloated clit. He stuck his tongue in my ear and nibbled all the most sensitive spots on my neck. He reached under me and teased my sphincter with his strong fingers until I begged loudly to be penetrated, and then he stuck first one finger, then another, then several, up my ass. My sharp nails dug deeply into the tight muscles of his gorgeous butt and my legs thrust in the air, jerking spastically.

My climax had already begun when I felt his cock trembling within me in preparation for its mighty discharge. The rapid rhythm of my cunt convulsions squeezed him even more tightly and he began to blast quick-fire cannonballs of white-hot cum deep inside, his eyes squeezed tightly and euphorically shut.

In the end, we had the most forceful, most profound, most pleasurable and gratifying orgasms of our lives. We bucked and jerked so violently that I unintentionally threw off my favorite spike heels and they flew though the air. I didn't see where they went, but later learned that one landed in the street, the other on the roof of a parked black Cadillac. We pressed our mouths against each other's shoulder, trying, not very successfully, to muffle our involuntary shrieks of bliss.

The surprising force of his eruption and the ardor of his orgasm renewed and prolonged my own, propelling me to even loftier and more passionate peaks. Then, at the height of my orgasm, the climax of my climax, something happened which had never happened before. I began sobbing uncontrollably. Tears streamed down my face. They were tears of sheer pleasure and joy.

He kept up his barrage of cum bullets for a very long time, but I continued to thrash and twist under him well after he was completely out of ammunition, ferociously at first, then fitfully as my frenzy faded slowly.

We lay there, completely spent, in the cramped back seat, basking in the warmth of our new affection and closeness.

After a few seconds, he began to ask, "Were you..." But he was interrupted by the unhurried cadence of a single person clapping loudly and deliberately in the distance. Before long, others joined in, and we realized we had an audience.

"Oh shit," he groaned as he hid his face in my sweater, pulled out of my cunt and awkwardly tried to yank his pants up to cover his cute, but very bare, ass.

A river of cum drained out of me onto the back seat. It wasn't the first time, and I certainly hoped it wouldn't be the last.

Then the hoots and calls started.

"Bravo!"

"Boo-yaaaaaaa!"

"Whooooo-Hoo!"

"New girlfriend, Joey? She be hot, really hot!"

And so forth.

Joey backed out of the car, zipping and buckling as he did so. I pointed to my bare feet and mouthed, "My shoes."

Joey looked down at the pavement by the car door, saw nothing and looked back at me with a shrug.

I pointed all around the lot with a circling motion to indicatesomewhere out there, and he grimaced.

I straightened my clothes, patted uselessly at my hair, sat up a little and tried to look out the back window while keeping my face mostly hidden. There were about a dozen people, mostly older men and women, hanging out the windows and standing on the fire escapes of the buildings which surrounded the parking lot.

Joey looked them over, spotted a teenage girl holding a school book and called out, "You'd better get back inside, Lisa Reynolds, and get back to studying. This ain't none of your damn business." She pouted and went.

Then he turned to face an old man on a rusty fire escape, "You should be careful, Mr. Jackson. With your bad heart, you don't want to be watching this kind of exciting crap." I could see him scanning the parking lot, looking for my high heels, as he spoke.

"Sheeeeit, Joey," the old man answered, "That ain't nothing compared to what I can get on the cable."

Joey smiled and began walking randomly around the lot, looking between cars. Then he stopped and looked at an overweight woman peering out a window with a flower box, but no flowers, "And you, Mrs. Lopez, what are you? Some kind of peeping Tomasa?"

"Sorry, Joey," she said sarcastically, "but you two were making too much of a racket for me to watch my soaps. Besides, you put on a better show - sort of like reality TV."

He found the one on top of the Caddy and stooped down to look underneath.

Mr. Jackson began slowly making his way down the fire escape from the third floor. "Think I'll introduce myself to your new girl, Joey," he croaked. "She just might be in the market for a man of maturity and experience, 'stead of a young pup like you."

"Don't you come down here, Mr. Jackson," Joey shouted. "I don't want to have to drag you back up that fire escape, but I will if you make me."

"Shit, Joey," he answered, "I whupped your grandfather every week for 15 years and I'll whup you if you lay one finger on me." And he continued to climb slowly toward the ground level.

"Damn, Joey," croaked a gray-haired, toothless old lady, "Is that the new high school teacher? The one who stomped those two low-lifes in the alley? I heard about her. I'd love to meet her. What do they call her? 'Denise the Beast'?"

"No ma'am, Mrs. Dyer," he answered.

A girl's voice floated from the open window where Lisa had disappeared, "Sho 'nuff looks like her."

"This here is her younger sister...ummmm.... 'Donna the Iguana'," Joey continued, "and she's got to get herself home before her mother gets mad and throws her out of the house."

"Sho sounds like her grunts and squeaks, too," wafted the voice from Lisa's window.

"Lisa Reynolds, do you actually know what Miss Davenport's grunts and squeaks sound like?" Joey challenged.

"Maybe not," the voice answered, "but I'll bet you do."

By now, Joey had spotted my shoe in the street and he was hurrying to retrieve it. Mr. Jackson had reached the pavement and was creaking toward the car from about 20 feet away.

"Sho looks like her slut shoes, too," said the voice from Lisa's window.

Joey walked quickly around to the passenger side door, just ahead of Mr. Jackson, as I scrambled between the seats to climb behind the wheel.

"Joey Jurgensen, I do believe you're a fucking liar," shouted Mrs. Dyer.

"But a damn charming one," she added, a little more quietly.

We both burst out laughing as I pulled out of the parking lot. But my mood changed quickly. " 'Donna the Iguana'?" I hissed "I remind you of a lizard?"

It felt strange driving in my bare feet. I almost never do anything without my high heels.

"Had to think of something on the spur of the moment," he shrugged. "The only other I thought of was 'Darlene the Dangerous', but that doesn't really rhyme, does it? Would you have preferred that? But if I'd had a little more time, I might have come up with something like 'Doris the Clitoris' or "Dina the Vagina'. Or,........wait a minute, how about 'Dawn the Gorgon'?"

"You're not trying very hard, Sweetie," I said, pretending to be angry. "How difficult would it have been to come up with 'Devon from Heaven'? And why does it have to rhyme? I like the sound of 'Didi the Delicious', for example. But you seem to be 'Joey the Slowey'."

And we both laughed at how lamethat was.

"Actually, I do have a new name for you, but I can't tell you quite yet," he said mysteriously.

I raised my eyebrows dramatically, but decided not to press the issue.

"Where to?" I asked as we stopped at the intersection with the main street.

"Make a right and drop me off back at school. I forgot my calculus book. I'll walk to Jamal's from there," he answered.

"School's locked up. How will you get in?" I asked.

"I know about five ways to sneak in. Sneak out, too," Joey responded. "Or Mr. Mac will let me in. He does it all the time."

"Won't he ask you what I was mad about?" I wondered, as I made the turn.

"I'll just tell him the truth," Joey answered.

"That you and your friends gang-fucked me on the floor of the boys' room, sprayed me with your spunk eight times, inside and out, and kept me squirming and cumming like a cheap whore on Spanish fly?" I asked.

"Well, no, notthat part of the truth," he replied. "I'll just tell him that you heard me fucking Anjellika, came in, gave her a lecture and sent her off. There's nothing more deceitful than a little bit of the truth."

"Won't Anjellika mind?" I said.

"No, of course not," he answered. "McKinnon's fucked her in there plenty of times himself. She practically lives there."

"What, not in the boys' locker room?" I asked.

"Well, there too, of course," he answered.

"And speaking of Anjellika," he continued, "you'd better make up with her. Don't let her looks fool you. She's a pretty smart girl, and I'm sure she knows exactly what happened after she left. And I'm also sure that she's really pissed, and that if you don't make up with her, she's going to tell everyone all about it."

I pulled up in front of the school. "How do you know she's not blabbing about already, you know, at Jamal's party," I asked.

"'Cause that's not her style," he answered. "She'll plan real carefully, first. Then she'll do it in a way that maximizes the damage she inflicts. She'll ruin your life if she can. She can be a little vindictive like that."

"Uh oh, so how do I make up?"

He thought for a second. "I guess you could join our study group," he suggested.

"Study group?" I asked, surprised. "What kind of study group? Who's in it?"

"Just me, and Robert, Anjellika, of course, Cedric, Denzel, and a few other guys I think you could learn to like.

And what, exactly, do you study?" I asked.

"Oh, you know, anatomy, mechanical engineering, stuff like that."

"Mechanical engineering?" I asked, knowing full well that Joey had set me up to provide him with a straight line.

"Yeah, like how to fit a very large peg into a very small, tight hole, stuff like that," came the punch line.

"Stuff like that, huh?" I said.

"Yeah, stuff like that," he answered. "We meet a few time a week. Sometimes we use an abandoned building over on Oak Street. And sometimes we sneak into the school and use the Teachers' Lounge while Mr. Mac is taking his nightly nap."

I opened my mouth and raised my eyebrows in mock horror.

"So won't Anjellika resent my joining your study group," I asked.

"At first she will, but she won't tell people what happened in the boys' room because she wouldn't do anything to hurt a member of the group. She's loyal that way. And eventually, she'll get to like you when she realizes how similar the two of you are."

"Lust conquers all," I responded in my best Pollyanna voice.

I knew right away I'd join, but told Joey I'd think about it. I decided to wait until the next day to accept his invitation. After all, I didn't want him to think I was that easy.

He gave me a long, wet kiss and got out of the car. I drove home.

The next morning, I was at school early, before any of the kids. But again, "Miss Davenport" had been erased from the greeting on the blackboard. This time, however, it was replaced with "DENISE-THE-PIECE". I decided to leave it there.

Next to it was a haiku, which read:

Fresh and juicy apple

Meets mature and tangy cheese.

What could be better?

It wasn't hard to guess who'd been playing with the chalk. I went to the information I had on my homeroom students and looked Joey up. As I suspected, he wasn't taking calculus.

I sat down behind my desk and decided that maybe it was okay to break the rules sometimes, as long as you were careful about where and when you did it, and especially, who you did it with. And I decided that coming to War Memorial High was probably the best decision of my life.

Later, as the students arrived for homeroom, Anjellika sat on Joey's lap. He had one arm wrapped around her shoulder, the other hand on her bare thigh, threatening to sneak up under her short skirt. He looked at me and smiled. She noticed where he was looking and turned to me with a scowl. He distracted her by squeezing her tightly and whispering something in her ear. She laughed loudly and flicked her tongue provocatively at Denzel.

Joey's right. She really is just like me, I thought.

Watching them, I could feel my clit stiffening. I thought about the fact that, beginning today, Joey and his friends would be going to football practice right after classes. I wondered when the first meeting of the study group would be.Not soon enough, I decided.Today's going to be a good day to get to know Mr. McKinnon a little better.