"Pretending" to Make Out

"Is it?" Was it just me, or was there a dangerous gleam in his eye? His thumbs were hot along the points of my hips. "You're sure?"

"Maybe I should look, you know, more disheveled? Like, my hair..." I raised my arms to muss my heavy curls, and in the process my tits jiggled right in front of his nose. "My shirt," I suggested in a murmur, and he looked from my face to my cleavage at least three times before he got the message, his hands leaving my flesh cool and goosebumped as soon as he moved them up to begin unbuttoning me.

Fuck. My hips were rolling.

I stopped that shit at once. It was what I always did when I got into a man's lap, but I had to control myself this time. I held myself rigidly still, my hair whipping and my shirt coming slowly open; Mr Norlin had the look of a man who can't believe his luck, but is willing to push it as far as possible anyway. "Good enough," I murmured lazily, the rich purple lace of my bra staring him in the face. I dragged my eyes up to his. "What do you think of the color, Senor? They tell me I look sexy in purple."

"Oh, it's great." His hands flew back to my waist at mach three, and this time he was caressing, stroking, tickling just that slightest bit. I grinned. "Like I said, Heidi, you're a really attractive young lady." He said it ironically, and I rested my hands back onto him now, lower, over his belly.

"Bullshit," I winked. "I'm a wicked sexy little bitch, is what I am."

"That's another way of saying it," he agreed, and he was arching upward, trying to get back at me, his lips parting in that slack, passionate way, and I took his face between my fingers and attacked him, and I'd imagine both of us knew we weren't rehearsing for shit anymore. Or I knew it, at least. He just kissed too well, my mouth melting into his, and all of a sudden he wasn't the one whose arousal I was worried about, the buzz in my ears and the growing ache in my nipples sending frantic warnings to my brain.

Or what was left of it, anyway, ravaged by hormones and lust and the nagging reminder, never far away, that my pussy was empty. I was gasping into his mouth, and my hands were skittering underneath the buttons of his shirt, and those damn hips were rolling again, rolling like a coked-up Amsterdam whore.

I was becoming aware that this was all getting out of hand, and quickly; his fingers were apparently on autopilot, grazing along the tops of my thighs now, his thumbs drifting into the gap between in rhythm to the surging of my tongue in his mouth. It felt awesome and I let him know with a breathy, chuckly gasp into his mouth as his hands got naughtier, and then my eyes flew open.

Okay then. It seemed there was at least one thing that wasn't out of hand, and literally: my vagina, which now filled his hot, eager palm like someone had glued it there.

Holy shit. He was cupping my pussy! Just two deep, slippery minutes of kissing, and he was already heading for Vaginatown. I jerked back, astonished, far more amazed than offended, only to see a cynical sneer and a weird light in his eyes; those fingers, I saw at once, weren't going anywhere. And my red lizard sex-brain took about a second and a half to decide I didn't want them to.

Well, that's not quite true. I wanted them to go inside me.

Even before that evil, reptilian core of my mind had made its choice, my body was already in motion, my hips scooting lewdly up his thighs. I couldn't help it, driving my pussy hard against his clawed fingers, the yoga pants and the thong beneath stretching up into my snatch under the driving pressure of his fingertips. I blew a sharp, eager snicker into his face and then I goddamn assaulted his mouth again, just absolutely fucking sucked his tongue right back between my teeth, both of us groaning as our pelvises flailed and our hands wandered, and Beth was suddenly far away from my consciousness.

I glanced down through the lust-haze in my head, expecting to see a tent in his pants and not surprised it was there. What did give me a shock, even as I squirmed on top of his knuckles, was the size of the tent.

His cock was the fucking Pyramid of Giza in his pants, prodding eagerly up toward my pussy; that was as expected, given the depth of my tongue in his mouth and his fingers in my body, but to be honest it felt... well, pretty fucking huge. I batted his hand away from me and worked my hips experimentally across his lap to make sure I wasn't hallucinating, and then my mouth came off his in an explosion of saliva. It felt like I was straddling a doorknob. "Well now," I purred, catching my breath. "Feels like you're enjoying this."

"Jesus Christ," he grated, his pupils massive. He was gripping me tightly at hip and thigh, both our bodies trembling with excitement. This shit had gone from zero to sixty in record time, even by my standards. I tried to remind myself that he wasn't even that hot. But get me going, and I tend to lose control quickly.

Mr Norlin was about to find that out.

I grinned down at him, my body moving like a snake in one of those Indian movies, with the charmers playing flute. I bent sideways and nipped at his ear. "Wouldn't it be a great prank," I whispered, my spit running onto his earlobe, "if Beth came in and I was blowing you?"

"What the fuck?" He jerked his head sharply sideways and then looked at me with real fear in his eyes, the kind of fear a man gets when he can see himself getting fired. "You're insane. No, Heidi, it wouldn't be a great prank."

Ah, but his body was betraying him. Mine too, in fairness; his dick wedging solidly against my slit by now, the smells of sweat and spit and the funk of two aroused people, all of it was driving me crazy. I felt my face split open in a massive, slack-mouthed grin. "Oh, come on Mr Norlin," I scoffed. "I'm as into this as you are. Who are we fooling here? Just let me suck your dick."

"Absolutely not," but it came out as a needy groan, and there was no way I was taking no for an answer. I licked wet and slimy at his ear, and then thrust myself hard against his lumped trousers. He gasped.

"Oh? What's going to stop me?" I muttered. "Not you, I'll bet," and before the sentence was even finished I had my hands at his waist, working at his belt with cool efficiency in spite of the red lust in my brain; I'd done this kind of thing many times before. His cock gave off heat and energy, vibrating beneath my fingers through the pants. It waited for me, quivering, rock-hard for my body, and I wanted it.

"What... this isn't a prank anymore," Mr Norlin muttered, confused, hesitant, on fire, with one hand now reaching around toward my ass and the other one creeping into my shirt. I'm telling you, autopilot!"

"That's the understatement of the century," I grated back, hearing my husky voice through the buzz inside my head, and his fly fell aside like the halves of a lightning-struck tree. He had a pair of ridiculous green-themed boxers underneath, and the little opening in the front emitted nothing but a glimpse of firm dark-red skin and a spray of pubic hair. It felt like opening a toaster oven set on low, my hand recoiling for a moment from his body. "Beth's going to shit a brick when she sees this."

"Beth's going to wind up being right about us," he snapped, his voice full of wonder, and then he exhaled a sharply mint-scented gust as I plunged my fingers into his boxers through the hole, grabbing, squeezing, pulling at the greasy flesh inside. "Oh my God," he whispered, his head slapping against the back of his seat.

I got his cock out after a few more moments of tugging, letting loose a triumphant little whoop as I dragged it into the daylight within my clutching, trembling hand. It was huge and brutal. It wasn't the largest cock I'd ever seen, but it was a lot more than I'd been expecting. And I'm afraid that, in my shock, I used just about the worst expression I could have. "Whoa! Fuck me!"

I didn't say it like a woman who really wanted the guy to fuck her; I said it like you'd say "holy shit" or "motherfucker!" or something like that, and under the circumstances either of those would have been a far better choice. He was looking at me, suddenly, with that feral look of hunger, that look I'd seen in other men, that look I knew was on my own face now, too. I swallowed hard, trying to recover my cool. My nipples shouted for attention. "Shit, Mr N. That's a pretty nice penis you've got."

"Wait, wait," he panted. He was writhing underneath me, kicking his legs to get his trousers lower on his hairy legs, and he had a shit-eating sneer on his face. Every man likes having his erection praised, and he had to know it was a pretty big one. "Rewind, Heidi. What was that you said? Earlier?"

I batted my eyes, knowing exactly what he was listening for, my tits on fire and my underwear soaked. I smiled craftily, backing away, studying the cock waving between us. "What?" I asked, all innocence. "When I said it was a pretty nice penis?" I flicked it gently with my forefinger. "It is." The thing was branding-iron hot, lumpy and veiny and dead-straight and fucking mouthwatering. I worked slowly and contentedly now, stuffing his dick back into the hole so that I could ease his boxers off.

"No." His voice was harsh. I felt his hands, gripping at my ass, pulling at my bra. "Before that."

I let my smile grow, lazily, confidently. I squinted, as if I was thinking hard. "Like, when I was threatening to blow you?" I made a kissy face, and his dick shuddered visibly. The boxers fell, and I rose on my knees to slide them down.

"Oh no." He was leaning back, unbuttoning the shirt over his pale belly. "Right after you got my dick out."

"Watch your mouth, Mr Norlin," I giggled, but I was ready to give him what he wanted. I leaned down, my bra a prison around my ribs. "I think I said," I whispered, my face close enough to smell his breath, "fuck me."

"Hmm..." He smiled a quick, fiendish smile, the kind I'd never seen from him. "You shouldn't say things like that in school."

"Ooh. I know, right?" I giggled. His body was getting nuder and nuder by the second, and I needed to get things moving. My clothes gripped at my overheated skin. "I'm being bad. This might not have been the best idea for a prank." I sent a hand down into the humid valley between his thighs, jiggling his balls. "Or, I don't know; maybe it's a good idea."

"Oh, it's not." He'd had enough of my bra, which was fine because I had too. I leaned against his chest so that he could get his hands up my back, to where the clasp was. His naked dick pressed against my body. "I can't believe this."

I just smiled, and this time the kiss was slow, smoldering, with spit oozing everywhere. I gasped with relief when I felt the bra come free, and then I was backing away, sliding off his legs to stand there before him.

He was, now, just another sex-crazed man, and I knew what to do with one of those. His dick was rampant, impossibly hard for me, shuddering as if it was alive, and his eyes widened when my shirt and bra landed on the floor. He was loving me like this, and why the fuck shouldn't he? I was firm and perfect like only a naked young woman can be, my boobs high and fine, their pale nipples begging to be sucked. I quickly decided there was no point to keeping the yoga pants on either, so when I finally went to my knees between his legs I did it in nothing but a purple thong.

I was losing it. "Actually, Mr Norlin," I gulped, "I think you're right. This is inappropriate."

I looked up into a greedy face framed by sandy hair, the eyes shining wide and vivid behind his ridiculously foreshortened cock. I felt my eyes cross for a moment as I focused on the whole pulsing, purplish thing, seeing the big veins and tendons prominent all the way along its fat, sweaty length. His balls hung hairy and wrinkled below, looking massive at this range. I couldn't believe I was this close to Mr Norlin's penis, close enough to be suffocated by its rich, gamy scent, and all my thoughts were focused on getting it into me. The whole area already stank of sex. I licked my lips, feeling my breasts swing free. "Want a titfuck?" I asked, my voice gravelly.

"Jesus. No," he managed, and I knew I wasn't the only one in the room who wanted that dick in my mouth. I grabbed it hard, my hand already sliding up and down, the shaft actually vibrating in my fingers. Shit, he was hard! "If you're going to suck it, suck it," he clarified, his voice tight and urgent.

I sighed, my breath ruffling his pubic hair, relieved. I didn't like titfucks. The guys on the hockey team were always asking for them, probably because they looked good on video, but my fellow cheerleaders and I were always perplexed. There's no way, we told ourselves, that a pair of boobs feels better than a pussy. Or, more to the point, a mouth. I smiled, my jaw slack. "I'm sure Beth will be here soon," I muttered, and then I was diving over his cockhead like a refugee attacking a food ration.

I can't believe it myself sometimes when I think about the sheer quantity of dick I've sucked, and I didn't get many complaints; practice makes perfect. With Mr Norlin, I decided to work my way up from bottom to top, saving the tip for last. I shoved his legs apart, and his whole body shook when my tongue made contact with the dark, acrid underside of his scrotum. It tasted, frankly, like ass, but that's just what I was expecting, what turned me on.

He was groaning the whole time as I suckled on his balls, swirling them around in my mouth, spitting them out and then sucking them back in; I was playing. The whole time I had my hand high, stroking him delicately, just reminding him that the shaft was next. I worked my way up there, shoving my tongue along the root of his cock, ignoring the hair in my teeth as I nibbled up the sides, and now I was making eye contact with him. Guys love that, but not as much as girls; the eyes tell us how well we're doing, how much you want to fuck us.

Mr Norlin's eyes told me I'd be taking his hard dick straight up my snatch. Soon.

First, though, I'd let him enjoy my mouth. I stopped gnawing as I reached the bottom of his head. "Hey," I managed, my voice thick, "what time is it?"

"Huh?" He glanced reluctantly at the wall clock. "Shit. Like five minutes til four."

"She's going to have a heart attack," I decided, and then I was sucking hard at his cockhead, my tongue dancing along his salty little slit while I jacked him below. I was up high by now, arching my back, and he couldn't keep his hands off my tits; within a few seconds he was rolling my nipples between his fingers, burying his hands in my flesh, all while my lips smacked against his skin and the saliva rolled freely down his cock.

This was raw, brutal, nasty, the oral ministrations of a certified slut. He'd never, ever had it this good, and I knew that with perfect clarity; I'm a woman who knows her talents. Then there was the tongue stud, which I'd gotten just after Christmas; Chip told me it felt better since then. Mr Norlin was in heaven. He'd explode when he felt my pussy; he'd be my servant for life. I was gobbling him, choking, gasping, his dick glistening with my saliva, looking like it was coated with varnish.

"This is fucking amazing," he said faintly, still staring hard at me, still latched onto my boobs.

"Just wait, Mr N," I whispered back, taking a break, and then there was time for one final, tasty lick, balls to tip, my eyes telling him everything he'd need to know. "I want to fuck you now."

"Okay," he agreed, mesmerized as I stood gracefully up. His chest heaved. "Um. We're not still, like, rehearsing, are we?"

"Ha. Such a jokester," I murmured, peeling my useless thong off my shining pussy. His eyes went impossibly wide as I did, because men are slaves to vaginas. Absolute slaves. "Anything I should know about? Like, you don't have syphilis or anything, right?" I stepped naked out of my thong, licked my fingers, and swiped them between my legs.

"Nope." He was struggling to get his unbuttoned shirt off, way behind, and I wasn't waiting for him. He plainly thought he was hallucinating as I spread for him, crab-walking up his legs, the tendons taut on my inner thighs. My pussy was bright red and swollen. "I'm clean."

I shrugged, then tickled at his cockhead with the fingers I'd just run along my pussy lips. I was totally ready for this monster. I nodded at him, my whole body tingling, all short of breath like I always get when I fuck. I waggled him against my dark, trimmed bush, teasing. "Wanna do it?" I drawled. I like dirty talk. "Como se dice, fuck? Isn't it chinga or some shit?" I was running his big dickhead along my slit, both of us shivering. His eyes were glued to where I was letting him penetrate me, just a little bit.

Probably, I understood on some distant plane of my mind, I should lock the door... But no, that would have meant taking his penis away from me, and I wasn't about to waste time with that shit.

"Yeah, chingar," he swallowed, and his voice was as thick as mine. "And the answer is yes," he added, his adam's apple bobbing like a sewing machine as his head parted me. "I want to fuck you."

"Mmm..." I always love this part, the part where you're not fucking yet, but you know you're about to; I savor it. With some men, this part lasts longer than the actual sex. "You're sure we should do this?"

"No, actually." He was right, too; this was the worst of my many bad ideas, objectively. But my pussy has never cared much for objectivity.

"Ah. So, I should hop off, get dressed, and head on home then?" I let myself drop, suddenly, taking him in by two inches or so, and his quivering breath told me all I needed to know. Hell, so did mine! "Ah, motherfucker! You're big."

"Sorry." His hands were clutching at my tits, rolling them around. Fine by me.

"I'm not." I cranked down again, until it started to burn; I was soaked, but he was thick. I backed off, but not for long; I'm no quitter, and it only took me two more humps, my body twisting like an eel, before my pubes were tangling with his, his whole big cock packing my hole. I exhaled slowly. "Fuck yeah," I said quietly.

"I can't believe this." He gave my tits another squeeze, and then it was my ass' turn. His hands were firm as they cupped me there. "You're incredible."

I rose slowly, both of us staring at the dripping cock coming out of my body, and then sank back down, comfortable on my knees. "Thanks." I ground myself against him then, back and forth, my hips moving in little circles. "I've never fucked a teacher before."

His eyes flashed, his fingers tightened, and I felt him hunch upward. "Oh, you like that?" I started moving faster. "You like that little reminder, that little nudge, that you're balls-deep in your own student?" I was whispering urgently, my breasts swinging easily over his chest; I'm not very loud during sex.

"You're probably getting an A after this," he told me frankly, his breath starting to make it difficult to talk. "I swear, this feels amazing."

"Hell yeah, baby." I was in full swing now, my body thrashing, and he was matching my rhythm. The chair would never be the same. I laughed viciously with the sheer excitement, because by then it was all feeling very, very good, like sex is supposed to. I was going to cum off my teacher's cock, probably more than once; it was insane.

My whole body was hot and tingly, like when your foot falls asleep, and wow. That cock. It was built just right for my slit, hitting all the right spots, like a violin bow. I saw sweat beading up on Mr Norlin's chest, and I could only assume mine was doing the same, but I was feeling too fucking good to check. And him? My partner in this prank, or whatever it had become? He grimaced up at me, probably trying to think about cats or billiards or something, anything to keep this going.