Rachel 'S Shaved Pussy, No. Five


Group-Sex, Hardcore, Masturbation, Oral-Sex, School, Teen, Threesome, Young
With the swathe Kirsty and I were cutting through the schoolhouse, fucking like rabbits with a substantial nonage of the entire student body ( virile and female ) plus a teacher or two, it was only a matter of time before we got the tending of authorization. With exercise, we were pretty skillful in keeping news show contained from the inexperienced kids around us, but instructor have seen it all before and know the signs.

When I got the claim to the master's office, I have to admit that I was pretty nervous, but I determined to put a brave facial expression on and abide my ground. After all, what had we done wrong ? Everyone involved was over the age of consent, and everything had been voluntary ( that bit of coercion with Ricky aside ) throughout. Perhaps our legal action had been unlawful, but there are no rules against that.

I wasn't kept waiting long, but ushered down the corridor from the secretary's desk into the headmaster's office. There I got my first surprisal : sitting adjacent to the master Dr McPhail was Mr cristal. After hearing about Kirsty's antics with Mr XTC, I had tempted him into a bit of fooling around myself. He really was as solid and muscular as she said, and that common sense of force between my legs was a fantastic change from the male child and girls I was screwing with otherwise. Was that going to be held against me ? Or was he in worry, and I would be seen as the victim ? I doubted they would have him in the room if they thought I would impeach him of some kind of rape.

"Sit down, Rachel,"Dr McPhail began, gesturing to the rear opposite him, on the near position of the desk."Now let me set your mind at relaxation immediately : you are not in any problem. However, we have noticed your… activities, and we want to make sure you are not going to do anything you might repent. Your adolescent body will be unfamiliar to you, and new experiences may invite you not to consider the consequences…"

So it was that sort of conversation. I could handle that variety of conversation. Mr go had tried to start lecturing me after the first time, but I had cut him short with a osculation on his lip and a hand on his peter. I could predict most of what was coming, so I tuned out a bit while I assessed the all-embracing situation. Mr Adams was probably there because he had approached the master to discourse what ‘ he had done ’, and also to make it clear to me that they knew it wasn't just all about fooling around with schoolmate. I could still see the lust in his eyes, even if he was trying to cover it and depend tooshie. Mr Samuel Adams is a PE teacher, not a drama teacher, and no form of actor, so the signboard were unclutter. His adoration and desire gave me confidence that I had some power in this situation.

That's when I realized something : the headmaster had something of the Same flavour. He wanted me too ! He was hiding it skillful, so I couldn't be absolutely sure as shooting, but there definitely seemed to be something there. His eyes travelled to the gap left by my undone shirt clitoris, and the protuberance of my boob. I leaned back, tilting my physical structure to push them outward and stretch the fabric a bit more over them, and saw him respond. I had not worn a bra that forenoon, and as my dead body responded to the bearing of two horny men, the teat hardened and poked through the cotton. Dr McPhail's lips kept moving, spouting stuff about hormones and responsibility and upshot, but the turning point were turning upwards in an involuntary smile.

I could have just sat there, taken the lecture, responded penitently and left to carry on with my day, but where was the fun in that ? The answer of this meeting could be so much more gratifying if I just took action and sent them the right way.

"Have I broken any school regulation ?"I cut in sternly, interrupting the mind of the school in mid-sentence.

A flash of annoyance flickered across his feature film."Well, no…"

"Have I broken any constabulary ?"I interrupted again, leaning forwards.

"No."

"No. I am seventeen years old, and any sexual action in which I have partaken are perfectly permissible under law. Have my grades dropped ?"

"Well…"

I stood up, and pushed my hot seat back with my articulatio genus as I did so."The solvent is no again. My homework marks remain as strong as they have ever been, submitted on time and well presented. Have there been any unpleasant rumours about me among my compeer ?"

"Not that we are cognizant of, but…"

I placed my mitt on the boundary of the desk, gripping it. I leaned forward, my arms pushing my breasts together, displaying an enticing open segmentation to my teachers."There will not be any. I know how to be discreet, and make surely anyone else I am involved with is discreet too."

Then with a expand, I heaved at the bound of the desk, spinning it away to the side - the brassy wheels on which it was mounted squealed a protest at this sudden drift, but did as I had hoped anyway. The two adults were now sat awkwardly side of meat by side in the middle of the elbow room on insulate death chair, while a vibrant, nubile, teenaged military force of nature stood over them. The distinct collapsible shelter in their trouser confirmed my theory.

For a moment, we were motionless and silent ; in their surprise, they were lost for language. Then, I giggled with delight and kneeled in presence of them, and placed my workforce on their stifle."I know when to go along my mouth shut. And when to open it."I raised myself up on my knee joint, my hand travelling up their second joint to their crotches."The choice is entirely mine, and I will persist in to do what I like with my free choice. My opening night are fully under my control."With a deftness that surprised me ( perhaps benefiting from Holocene epoch practice ), my fingerbreadth found their way to their flies, unzipped them simultaneously, and slipped into the gap… and all without my cool regard leaving their faces.

Mr Adams gasped as my fingertips brushed his cock through his underclothing, and he seemed about to crowd me away or stand up, but a hand on his forearm stopped him. Dr McPhail's expression betrayed nothing, but the fact that he was holding his workfellow to bide and let this continue told me everything I needed to know.

For a moment or so my fingertips trailed up and down, and I am for certain my smile as they swelled beneath my ministrations must have been a sight to behold. My digit dived into their waistcloth, gripped flesh, and pulled."I think that right now… I will spread out my mouth."

I looked down for the first time, seeing Mr cristal'familiar shaft and Dr McPhail's surprisingly large rod gripped in my girl-like clenched fist. Diving down to my left, my tongue flicked the schoolmaster's bell-end, and then made a more sustained touch, and my backtalk followed, tasting pre-cum. With the spear propped up thus, my bridge player was free to loosen the button and his trousers fell open to make way for the protruding sex Hammond organ. To my rightfield, my clenched fist began to pump Mr Adams'member.

I set to, a cock in each hand, my hot mouth bouncing up and down. I paused in jacking the muscular athletics teacher's organ to get at his trouser button, but with my eyes elsewhere I was struggling until he unfastened it himself and placed my fingers gently back onto his node. Combined with the headmaster's gentle hand on the rachis of my head, there was no dubiousness any more that permission was granted.

I went to lick with zest. For a while, the only sounds were the odd wet slurp or male grunt, nothing that could possibly be heard through the thick office room access and down the corridor to the nearest other human being, Dr McPhail's secretaire. After a few minutes, I turned round and fellated the P.E. teacher for a while, a thick coating of my tongue now easing the itinerary of my medallion up and down the veteran educator's rod in the absence seizure of my oral cavity. I could only involve the top few column inch of penis between my lips, having yet to really master the"deep pharynx"technique, but if they were at all disappointed by that, I should think they were disinclined to bet this unexpected, erotically supercharged giving horse in the, er, mouth.

Their guttural moans were getting louder, but as satisfying as my mighty position in the situation was in itself, my pussy was pulsing for attention, so I decided to take it to the next stage. Stopping and grabbing them each by the forearm, I stood up, pulling them with me. The blazonry I then manoeuvred to place a hired man at my top shirt push button and another at the zipper of my skirt. They took the message and began tenderly undressing me, kissing my teen flesh wherever they could.

When they had me naked, they stood flanking me. I did a quick twist, and even the mysterious doctor of chronicle ( his didactics subject ) could not suppress a gasp at the beauty of my smooth, pristine jackass."You male child have been very selfish. It's prison term for you to turn back the favour."I reached up and pressed down on the teetotum of their heads.

I am not for certain I entirely expected what happened next to go down without protest, but with Mr Sam Adams in front of me, nose brushing my pubic bone, Dr McPhail was at the vertebral column, his face inches from my bum. I really thought he would pull back, flex me around, stand up and osculate my sass instead, or something. But no, both of them attacked with gusto, mouths slavering at my openings.

This was really happening ! My PE teacher lapping at my pussy was remarkable enough, but this other thing was something else entirely. The caput teacher, the very symbol of control and authority within the school day that was a boastfully part of my world… was tonguing my butt-hole ! If I had felt the want, I could have shat right into his sass. In degrading himself thus, he was not just giving me a thorough rim-job, but also the most unbelievable power trip-up any schoolgirl could possibly imagine. I had a second of revelation, and once in my judgment, I could not resist bringing it to animation : in an insolent drawl, I said,"candy kiss my ass, sir."

Their similitude chuckle, muffled by link with my peel, vibrated up my body. I closed my eyes and surrendered to the sensations, my hands squeezing and massaging my small tit. The two old men - they must have both been well into their forty, and certainly considerably over double my age each - continued to slather their tongues right around and into my vagina and anus, their mentum presumably brushing each other at my perineum. Their manpower gripped my second joint, and my stage could well feature given way from the resplendent delight of it all if they had not been supporting well-nigh of my weight.

The teachers continued to devour both my nether holes, drenching my stallion genitalia with saliva, and I swayed back and forth, enjoying the thorough tending. I could have gone on like that for hours, but I wanted more. I grabbed them both by the dorsum of their neckband and lifted, and they rose obediently, their rigid members bouncing slightly with the front."Fuck me,"I instructed firmly. `` Both of you. have intercourse me rectify now."

Mr disco biscuit sighed happily."I've always dreamt of double-teaming a nubile teen girl. It's a huge fantasy of mine. But I knew it could never happen, so I resigned myself long ago to front, don't jot, and fantasise on my own clock time. And now I can !"

"Shut up, Mr hug drug, and do as the immature lady says,"Dr McPhail replied calmly. I felt his pommel slide up my bum-crack, re-wetting itself on the saliva there, and then contract slowly into the opening. When the bulbous head teacher penetrated my slopped sphincter with an almost audible pop, I gasped. He started pressing in and out, pushing slightly deep every sentence, and his deep breaths were hot on my ear. Meanwhile, Mr Adams watched me for a moment, getting a full vision of the Loretta Young beauty in front of him, stark naked, everything on appearance, heart widening at this astonishing invasion of my bowels. Then he pressed forward, and their middle-aged bodies sandwiched me, their slightly rounded bellies pressing against my tight, blench white tegument. Again, they were lifting me off my feet, and my arms went around the chest in front of me. His did the same, enveloping my shoulders, while the headmaster grabbed my shank. Reaching around, Adam'script pushed my jaw upwards, and his mouth pressed mine.

The notion of two fat penis stretching the paries of my cunt and rectum to their very limits, prodding nerves that had never experienced the like, was literally breathtaking. Their rock-hard hammer ( and don't think I didn't acknowledge the compliment on my amativeness that their rigidness represented ) seemed to crowd all the way into my consistency, pressing all my Hammond organ upward and restricting my lungs. That's not to say I was choking, just that every breathing spell ended with a heightened sense of being impaled, filled, by rods of intuitive pleasure that penetrated to my Congress of Racial Equality. In here and now when the centripetal overload eased enough to allow make out thoughts, I promised myself I would find more opportunities to do this double-penetration thing.

Having said that, my two middle-aged lovers must ingest been exercising much more skill than could ever be expected from the teenagers who constituted most of my serail. Like some kind of complicated steam-age equipage clock pendulum, they set up a cycle of insight that somehow eliminated awkward fumblings while simultaneously maintaining their balance upright and carrying my intact weight, a large part of which must cause been easing back and Forth River on their pecker. After a while ( there was no way I was keeping running of clip in my circumstance ), they even withdrew, cross me around and, just as cold air was sweeping into the cavum, filled them again with hot, throbbing man-meat, then carried on just as before. My anal retentive sphincter was now clutching at the PE teacher's pistoning phallus, while his genus Bos bred their little pupil in the traditional manner from the front.

The dream, although destined to be repeated in early ways as soon as I could finagle, could only stopping point so long this once. Completing the set, Dr McPhail kissed me deeply, his knife forcing down my pharynx and seeming to make full it with writhing muscle almost as thoroughly as my vagina and anus were. The urgency of their pumping increased, and then Mr XTC let out a half-growl, half-groan, like an Olympic weight-lifter heaving a seemingly impossible load from the ground. And with that, he indeed achieved something I would not throw believed possible a few minute before, in filling my tooth decay even more. With a final examination thrust, he delivered his thick, creamy semen into the astuteness of my anus. So did Dr McPhail, firing jism deep into my nubile womb. And my world exploded.

In the after-echoes of what was a colossal orgasm, all other mavin dimmed. I faintly felt myself lowered to the reason, and I lay there, my thorax heaving with the deep breaths that followed great exertion, my subdivision up to either side of my head, fingertips resting in my wide-strewn, hunky-dory bleak hair, ramification akimbo, my crotch a mess of slick reproductive juices.

I slowly regained perception of the world outside my shaking body, and realized that both teachers were standing at my fundament, speech sound out and pointed at me, their dick slowly softening and shrinking."May we ?"asked the headmaster, as if he were a tourist asking to take the picture of a local dressed in olde worlde regional costume.

Smiling absently, I nodded slightly."You've earned it,"I murmured.

After a couple more min, I recovered my strength and sat up, looking for my clothing. The two men who had so recently ravished me were calmly donning their pant, but I took pride in the fact that only I would know the ground for their cheery smile. I too reclothed myself, and regretfully wiped my politic crotch down with some tissue from a box the headteacher conveniently supplied.

Without another give-and-take, I made my way to the door, trying to unbend out my base on balls : as much as it would have been more comfortable, I did not want to raise dubiousness by emerging from the office bow-legged.

As I opened the door, I heard a filing cabinet subject."This, Mr Adams, is word form A7, a Student-Teacher Meeting paper. You will fill up it out precisely as follows…"

~ # ~

It was not long after that, that I started receiving regular additional tuition fee from Dr McPhail at his home. And I do mean factual tuition, not just sex-visits. Although… well, let me explicate it fully.

I would arrive at his domicile ( where he lives alone ) a short while after school. Sometimes I would still be wearing school uniform, sometimes normal clothes, but either way, nobody would be capable to tell from my mood of wearing apparel that anything was out of the ordinary bicycle. I would tap on the room access, he would let me in without much preamble, and I turned around in the hall while he closed the door again.

Then we were in each other's arms, lingua wrestling, spittle mixing, hands fumbling fervently at release and vigour. He lifted me up, or backed me up, to the kitchen board, where he laid me down, face up or confront down. Then he entered me.

The shag that followed was generally short but hard. He ploughed my pussy ( or occasionally my ass ) with free energy and ebullience, like a man starved of sex for months on end, and my whole body shook from the force of it. When he climaxed, usually inside me, I came with him, and we both crumpled to the table for a couple of hour, gasping from the strenuous exercise.

Once I had my breather back, I stripped off any remaining clothes ( after the firstly couple of times, I did it without instruction ), placed them neatly in my bag, pulled a notebook computer out from it, and sat down at the mesa on a quiet plastic professorship. From that mo until the time came to leave, I did not wear a thread of wearable. Then he began to lecture.

That continued for the relief of the eventide. A perfectly average tutoring academic session, except the student was completely naked. Oh, and once every half-an-hour to 45 minute, he would move over to my side, force his engorged dick out, and originate jacking off.

Sometimes I would rick my face and contract him in my mouth, or replace his hired hand with mine and buck his hammer myself. However, there were also times when I just carried on writing, maybe just leaning back a little, seemingly oblivious, until the warm white goo struck my face or bureau. He seemed to like that : this aphrodisiacal little teenage goddess in his own home base, blissfully unaware of the rearing erotic wolf mere inches away, like an illicit peep display but upgraded from a rotten 1990s portable TV to a huge 4K widescreen home cinema.

Usually, he carried on talking about the subject of the lesson even while he pleasured himself, or I pleasured him, and I did my unspoilt to keep up the note-taking with my early hand or without seeing the paper. Only right near the end, he would break off and groan ecstatically,"Yes, oh, fiddling Rachel. Beautiful Rachel ! Oh God, yes, my young woman. Oh, little Rachel ! AAAH !"and his penis pulsed, his cum anointing the beautiful little girl's pale skin.

Then he would wipe his softening dick off on my berm or buttock, sometimes pat me on the headway, zip himself up and acquit straight on where he had left off lecturing. The lone indication he would hand of what had just happened would be to give up me if I did anything whatsoever to strip myself up. If a significant-sized gobbet of semen fell from my cheek onto the book, I was allowed to bat it up and then carry a tissue to dab the muffle spot, but otherwise I sat there, middle on my work, while his semen slowly cooled and slid down my cheek, nipple and belly, pooling on the chair, my vagina backtalk resting on a growing pool. There the semen mixed with the poppycock leaking from my pussy - both his deposit at the end of that first rearing rutting and the considerable succus of my own constant arousal. If some of it hit my eye, or slid down there from my forehead or eyebrow, then so be it, I would have to ferment one-eyed until it cleared, although I think he went to at least some feat not to completely dim me with his following warhead, aiming it instead at my cervix or chest.

It may vocalise disgusting to you, degrading even. Covered in this white slime that was cooling on my skin, matting my hair, dripping off my pap or into the street corner of my mouth, even smelling kinda funny. I can see why you would be horrified at the medical prognosis of it happening to you… but right then and there, that wasn't the way I saw it at all. To me, every cumshot seemed like the ultimate compliment, the most visceral, direct way a man could evidence the powerful, erotic effect I had on him. As he approached flood tide, he would praise my beauty, my perfection. His onanism was almost like an act of worship, and his semen an offering to the goddess. In that private environs, separated from the public and its preordained values, who wouldn't want to weary that as a badge of honour ?

Besides, there was something about the smooth, slick feel of it on my cutis that I rather liked too. As it cooled, I got goose bump, contrasting greatly with the previous quick flak. That olfactory perception, that taste… My senses were all being stimulated at once.

And maybe he was dominating me, but that was exquisitely too. I had enough experience as a top-dog to my slight schoolboy squawk that changing positions and being the sub was a gracious change. When he took bursting charge, I could relax into his power, the resistless force of a personality who knew exactly what he wanted and exactly how to get it. I could set aside the burden of having a say : he wanted to see a sexy seventeen-year-old schoolgirl covered in his jizz, and in his planetary house, that meant that it would happen. That was all there was to it.

When I think about it, his sex drive was unbelievable, to cum 7 or 8 metre in one evening. Even separated by a recovery full stop, his balls must have been working on overuse to generate that a lot semen. It's strange to call back of such a seemingly upstanding flesh of respect secretly being a rampant sex monster, and I can only wonder how he coped before settling on this scheme. One affair is certain : I was not the first pretty young girl he brought discreetly into his animation to gorge his carnal needs.

The tutoring was, I have to say, incredibly beneficial to my studies, setting aside the intimate element. Dr McPhail's setting is in humanities, so that was the most common stress, but he had decade of experience as a instructor, and knew how to apply his knowledge to other subjects. I learnt physics through the chronicle of scientific discipline, the work of N and Robert Hooke and Boyle, and historic context of use improved my workplace on English people literature essays and art projects. I learnt the sinister economic realism of the mining industry, grounded in the working of minelaying and ore-processing chemistry. The carbon and atomic number 7 cycles, which I had struggled to follow in science class, made much more horse sense in the context of physical geographics. I was free to ask question whenever I wished about the work, and his answers were always affected role, pertinent, informative and illuminating. I was spending a lot of my unfreeze time fucking, yet my grades were only going up, and it seemed to me that I had Dr McPhail to thank for that.

At the end of the evening, he would withdraw my notebook computer, signalling that we were done. Then I lay on my cover on the table, and he penetrated me again. This time, it was slower, more take. He would stare in wonder at me as his hips moved back and Forth like a pendulum, and his hands smeared his cum around my physical structure, massaging sperm cell slowly into my look, neck, berm, chest ( oh yes, especially there ), belly, crotch and thigh. I sometimes felt as if he were trying to get an even finishing, as if he could thereby envelop me in an embrace all the larger with his seminal fluid as a part of his consistency by proxy.

Or maybe he just loved the tactility of it, the smoothness of young peel under his digit, lubricated to even cracking eloquence. In this view, I got the most orchestrate look at him of the entire eventide, and saw the nude seventh heaven and joy he took in fucking me this way, and indeed every other way. It never took me a groovy effort to distance myself from my collaborator, to stay fresh the separation between even the most exciting, passionate sex and romanticistic attachment, but looking at the pure happiness I was bringing to him as we orgasmed once more together, I think I might take come as close I ever did to falling in love, if only for a few moments.

I realized once that there was something deeply metaphorical about what he was doing here, and I mentioned this to him. If sperm was symbolic of the creative, procreative act, the very stuff of inheritance and passing on your animation force to a new generation, then he was focusing his energies on his pupil rather than any tiddler of his own. It also cast this dedication to education as more of a selfish act than the wonted perceptual experience of selflessness.

He smiled and complimented me on my insight, and pointed out that there were precedents for this line of thinking. We discussed Freud, Jung and Nabokov in terms of the psychiatrical underpinnings, and also the philosophical implications. We covered ancient Greek doctrine, including some of its Thomas More shocking pattern. In some style, that conversation was as stimulating intellectually as any of the sexual bit were physically, and I came away with my oral sex buzzing with new ideas and conception I couldn't wait to consider.

#

At the end of it all, with his spend inside me and on me, I took myself off to the shower. Often, he would join me, but he would almost never bring himself off yet again. Instead, he kneeled in forepart of me, tonguing my bozo as the piddle cascaded down my body, washing all the semen, sudor and other filth down onto his upraised face.

Finally, I would dress again and leave quietly, only a bit of dampness in my hair suggesting that anything more unusual than an supernumerary study sitting had occurred…
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