Paying The Rent

Ricky's cock was fat and I tensed up when the first 7 inches were inside me. He buried the remaining inch and a half all the way in and my cunt relaxed. He pulled it out agonizingly slow, letting me feel every inch as he went, and I thrust another finger into Georgia's dripping fuckhole.

Ricky took his whole dick out of me and put just the head back in. I grabbed a handful of my round tits with my free hand and squeezed.

Ricky's hands were on my ass and he thrust his giant prick into me with force. He banged me hard with his colossal tool and I felt a monstrous orgasm inside of me crying to be let out as I licked Georgia's clit. Georgia grabbed a chunk of my flaxen hair and pulled my face tight to her pussy. I tongued it furiously and she began to cum.

"Oh fuck!!!" she bellowed.

Ricky picked up his pace and began fucking me with all his power. His big hammer punished my poor, little pussy.

"Fuck me," I implored him as the tidal wave of pleasure rolled over me.

I reached down between my legs and worked my clit while Ricky fucked me hard.

"I'm gonna cum," Ricky said.

He pulled his mighty cock out and shot cum all over my ass. The first feel of his hot, liquid love sent me over the moon and I began to come.

"Oh, fuck!!!" I cried out as the riptide of pleasure pulled me down.

I came harder than I'd ever cum before and collapsed into Georgia's arms on the couch in front of me.

"Does this mean we get to keep our apartment?" Georgia asked as I struggled to catch my breath.

Ricky just smiled.

CR

A Tease From

Sex With Teachers: Kindergarten

I hated my parents for making me go to teaching college. All I ever wanted to be growing up was a princess in a magical kingdom; married to a handsome prince whose only passion in life was satisfying me orally and taking me shopping whenever I wanted. Sure, all that dressing up and going to balls at the royal palace sounded like fun, but my prince was going to be so handsome that we'd be too busy have sex to attend any of the stuffy functions that his old fuddy-duddy parents would insist we go to. I just know they're going to hate me for it, but I wanted to be my own special kind of princess, not just another drone that spends her days curtsying to foreign dignitaries and glad-handing the public. No, I wanted to spend my time shopping in Beverley Hills and seeing the world on my terms. Instead of having lunch and pictures taken with a visiting emissary from the Republic of Palau, I wanted to do brunch with Jimmy Chu and be hounded by the paparazzi while on vacation in St. Barts. I was going to be the first princess ever to star in her own butt-kicking action movie, and maybe an x-rated feature on the side. None of that tacky home video stuff though. The lighting is never flattering in those productions, and the starlets usually come-off looking like the average mortals that they really are.

All of this is of no consequence now though I guess because, although my parents supported my dreams of being a princess while I was young, it was after my first year of high school that they decided it was time to start pissing on my parade.

"You need to start thinking about your future, Holly," were my fathers words the first day of summer break after my grade nine year had ended.

What a bummer that was. Grade nine was a big year for me. The transition to high school brought with it a whole new crowd of people that I had never known before and a new set of friends. I felt more independent and my parents started giving me more freedom. Also, I was a late bloomer all around and it was right after Christmas that year that the piddly A's on my chest became a set of full-fledged C's. I'd been boy-crazy since grade five and now thanks to my perky, new tits, boys were finally starting to notice me.

I remember the day my father first talked to me about planning for my future, because it was the day that I was supposed to go meet Bobby Green at the park late that night. I'd devised what at the time I believed to be a foolproof plan. I had told my parents that I was going to the movies with a couple of my girlfriends. A pretty sophisticated scheme don't you think? Really I was going to meet Bobby at my old elementary school. I'm sure Bobby wasn't aware of it that night, but I'd decided that that night was going to be the first time I put a cock in my mouth. Bobby and I had hooked-up a few times, but the furthest we'd ever gone was some heavy-petting and one time I'd rubbed his dick through his jeans. A couple of my friends had given hand-jobs and been fingered and I was interested to find out what it felt like to hold a hard dick in my hand, but the only opportunity I'd had was the night I rubbed Bobby's cock through his pants and he'd blown his load in his pants before I'd had the chance to get his cock out.

"I'm gonna be a princess when I grow up, Daddy. Don't worry," I'd told my father that fateful night.

"Holly," he snapped at me. "You need to forget about this fantasy you have. You will never be a princess. You need to start looking at your future practically."

I feel now, much as I did that day that my father was being a real asshole by yelling at me the day after school had ended. I was young and very recently freed from the oppressive chains of organized education. I wanted to have fun and enjoy my summer. I had big plans for the night that lay ahead; I didn't want to talk about something that was a lifetime away as far as a teenage girl is concerned. I had a date with Bobby that night and I had a million unanswered questions racing through my head. What was his dick going to taste like? Would I like giving head? Would Bobby like it? Would I be any good at it? I had more pressing matters to attend to that day; something that my father didn't seem to understand, thank God.

I must have done a good job conveying that I couldn't have given less of a shit about what my father wanted to talk about, because he grounded me for the rest of the summer when I made it painfully clear to him that I had no desire to bother with such things like his topic of conversation. A week later my father would lift my summer-long grounding thanks to the urging of my mother, but the damage had been done. Apparently a week was too long a period for Bobby Green to wait and I found out through a friend that he had hooked-up with some skanky future ninth-grader who had been more than willing to blow Bobby on their very first date. What a slut.

Needless to say, that episode with Bobby introduced me to a world of not wanting to trust boys much, if at all. I finally gave-in to my father in grade eleven and tossed aside my dreams of being a princess and settled for a future in teaching. There was never a fire in me to teach people, or be a babysitter, but it's what the guidance counselor at my school said I would be best at, so I started down the path towards a teaching degree.

I hated it. While my girlfriends were out with their boyfriends, I was volunteering at the local library because my father said it would look good on my resume when I was done school. I'd be talking to a girlfriend on the phone and she'd tell me that she'd just got back from giving her boyfriend a blowjob in a crowded movie theatre. I heard tales of late-night sex on the hood of a car at the end of some dirt road. I wanted to be the girl bent over the hood of her sexy boyfriend's car, his throbbing cock driving in and out of my pussy, but I was at the library putting Everybody Poops back on the shelf and cutting up those little scraps of paper you find beside the computers. I wanted to be the girl who people listened to having sex in the bathroom at some house-party; instead I was visiting lonely seniors at a nursing home on weekends to further pad my credentials as a good human being.

I don't mind telling you that I did my fair share of masturbating during those days. My girlfriends mostly had hot boyfriends and I thought about them while caressing my swollen clit in bed alone. I felt the occasional pang of guilt for doing this because they were my girlfriends, but they were the ones having the hot, sweaty sex that I could only dream about, so I eventually became okay with it.

College wasn't much better. Father insisted that I take some other general interest courses just in case teaching didn't pan-out and I needed to get another degree. I was getting desperate to have a sexual relationship by the time I got to college. Sure, I'd had a few dalliances with guys near the end of my high school career, but giving three blowjobs and having quick and unsatisfying sex twice hardly constituted a good sexual history.

There were no shortage of hot guys in my teaching classes, but in the extra classes I took, the pickings were slim. I found one halfway decent guy in my Spanish history class and we had sex in his room one night while his roommate slept in the bed beside us. The sex was okay, but he kept trying to talk me into letting him fuck me in the ass and I just wasn't into it.

College all around was a disappointment when it came to acquiring carnal knowledge of the opposite sex and I wasn't looking forward to striking out into the work force after I'd graduated and was qualified to become a teacher. There weren't an overabundance of teaching positions available, trust me, I looked. There was an opening for a kindergarten teacher, but since I wasn't a grandmother yet, I passed it up. I settled for a job as an assistant in the library department that a catholic elementary school had to fill quickly when the previous assistant had been killed in a car crash. It looks like my father had been right about volunteering at the library in high school. Sure, the volunteering got me the job later on, but it also helped create the sexually-frustrated, young woman I had become.

Stacking books and shushing fourth graders all day is just about as unglamorous as one may expect. The girls that I'd kept in touch with after high school weren't faring that well either. A couple of them had popped out kids shortly after high school and were stay at home moms. One had gone to Milan to pursue a fashion career that I knew she would fail miserably at and I found myself feeling jealous of her for chasing her dream despite the fact that everyone knew she'd be returning a qualified failure a year later. I heard a tale about a girl I had somewhat known in high school who had entered the porn industry and was doing quite well. I found her online and e-mailed her. We exchanged e-mails for a little while. Mostly it was me lying and trying to convince her that working in a library at a catholic elementary school was actually not that boring. She told me about the hot guys and girls she got to have sex with everyday, the fabulous parties she went to every night and the mountains of money she was making. I thought about quitting the library job and going to visit her in California. I'd go live with her and get into the industry myself. I was anything but ugly and I thought I'd do great on-screen, but this only made me more aware of my lack of experience with guys, hot or not.

What was I going to do when the director yells action and there was a ten inch cock in my face? I could count the number of blowjobs I'd given without taking off my socks and I'd never been on top of a guy while having sex. I all around was suffering from a lack of sexual history and it felt rotten. I tabled the idea to go be a pornstar in California and started buying my new friends videos so I could live vicariously through her. Her videos were top quality, not like some of the other stuff I'd seen on the internet. Her stories had dialogue, plot and a vast selection of thick cocks. Seeing all the big, beautiful dongs in the video made me long to be fucked by something so glorious. My experience with men was limited, as I've stated and I'd never experienced a dick the likes of which I saw in my friend's videos, or even a guy that knew anything about pleasing me. I watched a new video almost every night in bed and I loved it. I was becoming more comfortable with my body and even left my curtains open a few times so the nerdy guy who lived in the apartment across from me would get a show.

I felt like a teenage boy, sex was on my mind all the time. I couldn't stop thinking about it and I started imaging what a guys cock looked like under his pants while I talked to him. I started going to bars on the weekend, but after a few drunken hook-ups I decided that bar-sex wasn't the way to go about getting satisfaction. Anyone could go out to a bar, get drunk and go home and fuck some random stranger. I needed something naughtier. I needed a sexual project.

The idea came to me when I picked up my pornstar friend's newest movie. It was called, Fucking the Alphabet. The movie revolved around a group of guys that were on a mission to have sex with a girl for each letter of the alphabet. I'll admit that the movie itself was weak and they only had sex with fifteen different girls or so; sometimes two or three at a time, but the idea was intriguing to me. I thought about doing the same thing, but wasn't ready to commit to being that much of a whore right out of the gates. I needed a more reasonable number; the alphabet was just too much. I thought about the days of the month, but didn't think my tiny little pussy could stand-up to being pounded every day of the month despite how wet the idea made me.

It wasn't until the first time the kindergarteners came into the library that school year that I decided how I was going to go about acquiring the sexual experience I had been lacking.

Jim Monroe was a kindergarten teacher at my new school and anything but a grandmother.

CR