Sherry : How I learned to love my cunt by Phillisroger

My name is Sherry. I am a pretty young woman and shy. I have a confession. I was also embarrassed by my cunt. I knew from my parents that it was somehow a"dirty"thing to take and very common soldier. They even called it"my privates."My girlfriends wouldn't even say the word of honor out loud…only mentioning it in rustle. So I was very shy about it all what with walking around knowing that I had a puss ! At least it was hidden under my clothes and panties. It may seem unknown but as soon as I started to uprise up I learned sex was dirty and it all centered on having a cunt. Something I shouldn't display or signature and certainly not let anyone else see or touch. It was all embarrassing and made me shy. But my shyness must have been what attracted my teacher to ask a limited interest in me ! I wasn't much of a student and this played into his hands…did I write"hands ?"and those fingers on his manpower. I have never had such fun in school and after school. This is the story of how I learned to love my puss.

Mr. Ralph Waldo Emerson was our English teacher and we were studying poetry…studying anything was hard for me, but verse ? That was extra hard. It was a meter when lots of things were hard and confusing…there were my parents, my booster, my sketch and… ( whisper ) …boys and fate of them…boys made us girls giggle and titter and lots of whispers about naughty things like sex and fucking. We couldn't say that word out loud of trend. Another such word was cunt. We could say most anything else but those two words made us redden. We could even talk about boys'penises but when it came to fucking and slit those were"rustling Holy Writ"and very personal.

So I did take things in schooltime but there was so very much to acquire that was not in school…the balance of the earth ( and boys ! ). But, as I wrote, we were just then working on poetry and it was gruelling for me…I was dire for a good grade so I could fine-tune and a bad grade in side wouldn't helper. In my mind I would do anything for a skilful English grade. It helped…I didn't know it at the time…that my instructor was good looking. He wasn't all that Edward Young but young enough that all us girls had fancy or compaction on him and at lunch we would giggle about what might happen…if…well, you know, if our fancy were ever played out in rattling time with this good looking man.

"Sherry,"Mr. Emerson said to me one day,"you are having trouble with your grade in this social class. Maybe you need extra help…see me after school and I will see if I can help."I nodded and felt a thrill go through me thought of being alone with my handsome teacher. He wasn't a boy but a real rightful man and I guessed that was why I tingled. I got uncomfortable and adjusted on my chairman which caused more shiver and I couldn't wait until after school.

Finally, thankfully, course for the day were over. I went to my storage locker, checked my hair…touched my lips with some lipstick…put all my books, except my English language account book, in the locker and walked to Mr. Emerson's room. He was in the indorse office at a desk and meter reading something. Maybe he had forgotten about me…I walked into his government agency and stood there…the light was behind me and I wondered if Mr. Ralph Waldo Emerson could see the outline of my body through my dress. Finally, he looked up…saw me…smiled, said :"Oh yes Sherry…I almost forgot. cum in and close down the door. I closed the doorway and walked to his little desk. We were alone and I wondered about it all."Let's talk,"he said,"about verse and why we study it…how you will learn to enjoy it because, after all, wads of poetry is about love and affection."I was blushing and felt a bang. I didn't know why.

Mr. Emerson opened a Bible on his desk and motioned me over beside him. I was breathing strangely and stood beside him looking down at the account book."This is the writing of Walt Whitman,"he said,"and much of his poesy is about love and feelings…read this part."I leaned over to await at the give-and-take and his arm went around my waist. It was warm and I wiggled very slightly and began to read the poem about men and women and"feeling myself…alive"and Mr. Ralph Waldo Emerson was rubbing my back."What do you call up,"he asked."It's nice,"I said, not knowing what else to say and then blurted out :"Your manus feels nice on my back Mr. Emerson."and he rubbed up and down my spine.

My legs were getting unaccented and I moved into him."Are you okay ?"he asked and I could only nod and hope he wouldn't stop rubbing me."I need a unspoilt grad,"I finally murmured. Mr. Ralph Waldo Emerson said :"I know"and now his hand was on my bare leg, more rubbing. I parted my legs…I was telling him something…that he was arousing me, exciting me, that I wanted a good degree and more. His hand was so wind up and flaccid on me."You have soft skin,"he whispered and I opened more.

His hand traveled past my knee, rubbing above my knee…I took hold of the sides of the desk and waited…"gosh !"I oozed,"Mr. Ralph Waldo Emerson !"I held myself. We were alone in his federal agency, the doorway closed,"lock the door, Sherry,"he said and I did."Come here you beautiful girl. I think there is an ‘ A'in your future."I nodded and returned to his side, ramification apart. Now both his hands were under my dress. I took a deep breather and looked down at him and smiled."You shouldn't be doing that, Mr. Ralph Waldo Emerson,"I said. He looked up at me, smiling, saying :"You're right. Do you like what I shouldn't be doing to you ?"

"Mr. Emerson, that feels squeamish, really… [ gasp ] [ turn ] really…Oh God !"his fingers were inside my skimpy scanty and feeling my slit. I took a deep breathing space and closed my heart."You're wet,"he said. I opened my eyes and smiled."Please Mr. Emerson…"“ Yes ?"“ Don't"I felt his fingerbreadth stop…"Don't stop…please don't occlusion !"and his fingers went to work on me again. We started talking, playing."Your body is indulgent,"he said."The easygoing part is your cunt,"there was that parole."It's a dirty word, Mr. Emerson."He chuckled."Yes, maybe, but you have a tremendous cunt. I like to feel your cunt."Tell me what you want me to do."Touch me more."“ What do you want me to touch ?"he asked playfully. His fingers making me dizzy…"ejaculate on,"he said,"what do you want me to finger ?"I whispered :"My cunt."“ I didn't hear you,"he whispered"and kept feeling…OH GOD was he feeling."Say the intelligence out loud, Sherry."I hesitated but my knees suddenly went weak and I blurted it out :"cunt"“ Whose cunt ? Tell me."I had a petty spasm and looked in his smiling eyes…"My slit, Mr. Emerson."“ You're a expert little girl,"he said and played with my twat lips.

I lifted my dress and straddled his legs, his delectable fingers now stroking a rhythm and my body, at the waist, moving to his ghost. My cunt was sending somewhere special. It was so lull in the room and I heard a clocking ticking away…my physical structure also ticking in a rhythm with cerebrovascular accident, stroke…I put out my bridge player on his chest, my eyes closed and spasmed on his fingerbreadth, catching my breath, writhing on his fingers…letting out my breath in gasps."You're a good student, you have a hot cunt."he said as my blazonry went around his neck, kissing his neck and he was petting my Down. I got brave and said :"I have a hot cunt."I was so sensitive, my cunt an electric charge to his touch. Sending charge through all of me. I was so humiliated and felt so fond and whole…bubbling over…now his entire helping hand holding my wet cunt.

Finally I was unagitated and rested my head on his chest. My breathing slowed to normal and he was rubbing my binding again, feeling my butt and kissing my neck. I was lying against him and thinking what a wonderful thing was my cunt. I shivered again. For the first off time I was proud of my bitch. It was the first of my many deterrent example with Mr. Emerson .