In the hall their eyes met and held. It was all done with the eyes. A little tiny smile curled the corners of her mouth, showing dimples. "I'll have the essay for you this afternoon around 4 o'clock, Mr. Demarco," she told him as she took a half step back into a shadowy niche. They knew this spot. Distance voices in nearby rooms, and sounds of close-by lockers opening and shutting surrounded them, but no one was in the line of sight. "I'll get permission to leave play practice for a few minutes and bring it to you," she said. It was a game; they both knew. The hallway meeting: Anyone passing by would see an ordinary, seemingly innocent scene. An earnest, young, handsome teacher conferring with a beautiful, equally earnest, tenth grade student. The same scene happens a thousand times a day in schools everywhere. And he was her advisor after all, so even more reason for this hallway consultation. (He was her advisor last year, too. He made sure the arrangement continued this year). "Listen, Miranda, this can't go on. You've got to be on time with these essays." An ordinary admonition from the standard teacher playbook, also ordinary everywhere. But his face, which only she could see, was anything but serious. His right hand was in motion. "I'll be in my office," he continued, while the hand slipped under her short skirt. In one deft move he hooked his index finger around her thong and wiped his long middle finger along her moist, hot slit. She sucked in her breath and her eyes flickered but she maintained her normal stance. His roving hand emerged quickly. A wave of delight passed over her face. "I'll have to start deducting points, young lady." Another line from the standard playbook. She nodded understanding, his hand emerged, and she left. How easy for him to believe: "She's the most beautiful piece of adolescent ass in this school. No, the world!" Slender, just as she should be, but very well shaped: hips and ass and tits all very well developed; a clear and open face, long neck, slim endless legs, dimpled smile, dark hair arranged in a twist, eyes that suggest a latino background. One hundred and fifteen pounds, almost five feet eight tall. Best of all, flawless skin. Like honey. What poise, what glamour! How she holds herself! How she moves her head to look at him! When she sits she doesn't throw herself into the seat like so many others: her beautiful full ass seems to embrace the seat lovingly, erotically, slowly, sexually. She has modeled a little for magazines, but she hadn't needed any training to do so. She is 100% natural. And all the more arousing because so. Whenever Miranda is close to him he imagines he can smell her pussy, could smell and taste her ass. Actually, she is as fragrant as a flower, all sweet and spicy. Sweet, sweet Miranda. He watched the swing of her pleated, too short "catholic school" skirt as she moved down the hall, then lifted the invading finger to his nose. Even under the loose drape of the skirt you could tell she had incredible, firm ass. What a fucking hot piece of pussy, he thought in final evaluation. Where did she learn to suck cock so good? How long had she been doing it? She smelled so good. Was she doing it to other teachers? Excellent student, intramurals, debate team, social committee, a leader. How did she have the time? Sex. There was always room for sex. These kids had so much energy. This beauty, this doll, picked him upon which to bestow her sweet teenage favors was more than enough compensation for all the hassles and pressures of his job. Fringe benefit, he thought as he walked toward his office. How much would that be taxed? How much is a blow job from a hot sixteen year old worth? Was she sixteen? Maybe she was fifteen. Shit! He looked forward to writing her college recommendation. He had to be careful of course. He knew the danger. He knew what the present climate was like: hysterical. The lurid headlines. Teacher molests student. The suggestive news reports, the innuendos: Old slobbering fool with his crooked dick in the ass of some innocent child. She wasn't a child. If there was any molestation it happened long before 10th grade. Peter felt reasonably safe with her. It was the others who were dangerous: her classmates, her rivals, other teachers. In such a climate it hardly was possible to speak what he felt: hardly possible to say he simply loved young female beauty. It inspired him to teach well; it made him take the job seriously, put in extra effort. Could he help it if around such beauty his body responded as it naturally should? They weren't children, that's for sure. He couldn't censor his eyes, nor censor his heart. If he stayed in teaching would he eventually become like the old dried–out veterans? After decades of denying the obvious would he too be monk–like and eunuch–like, a self denying supporter of the administration, afraid of himself? He looked forward to this afternoon. The door opened very quietly, opening just enough to admit her slim, scrubbed body, and when it clicked closed she stood behind it, all shy and demure. She was play acting, they both knew. "Mister DeMarco," her voice barely above a whisper, "I have the assignment. Sorry I'm late with it. Is there anything I can do to make up for it?" Just the right emphasis on any. Her eyes flashed to his crotch and her dimples shown. She was so good at this. "Get your cute little ass over here and suck me off, if you don't want your grade to suffer." His hardon was obvious. "Yes, sir." She liked being spoken to in a commanding way. It made her pussy wet. He liked it too. "Make me come quick. We don't have much time." She threw the assignment on his desk and dropped to her knees. She was glad he'd recently taken to wearing boxer shorts: it made getting to his cock so much easier. Miranda was also grateful he was always spanking clean and his pubic hair trimmed, save for a cute small patch. He was probably twenty-six or twenty- seven she guessed. No more. He had such an athletic, good body. She always admired it. He came in her mouth in about two minutes. "My, oh my...damn!. What a little devil you are" he muttered as she stood. Mr. Peter DeMarco watched her leave. Mr. Peter DeMarco: cum laude graduate of a good ivy league college, MA in English and French literature. He thinks he's an honorable man. And he is. There's no pretence of romantic love. He made that clear to her. He liked her— he liked many of them, that was obvious—but it was her dynamite body that motivated him. All animal attraction, and that was plenty enough for both of them: sexual animals that love to fuck. Love to fuck. In his mind he replayed the start of it all. Just a few months ago. Her daddy drove her over. She was babysitting their 14 months-old son. Peter drove her home. He and his wife, Natalie, had just come from steamy movie and he was anxious to get back home to fuck her. The girl in the car next to him was his student but that didn't stop the fantasy playing in his mind. The movie was about two girls and a guy. His dick grew so rigid as he pictured his beautiful wife, 23 years old, the object of many men's admiring glances, in bed with his beautiful student Miranda. And why not? Already Miranda was the object of many men's lust; his own to be sure. How hot it would be to watch his wife and Miranda lick each other; to have both of them blow him; to fuck his wife in the ass as she ate the teenager. Just like the movie. "Did you like the movie?" Her voice startled him. How should he answer? The car was dark, but did she notice his hard on? "It was good," was all he could manage to get out. She probed: "I heard is was really hot." Yes, yes it was, baby, and I'd really like to fuck you. But what could he really say? Damn his inhibitions, damn his status in relation to her. Her house. Her turned toward her. She gazed at him and slowly put her hand on the door handle. They were so close. She didn't seem in a hurry. Her movements were languid. It was one of the things that made her attractive. She tilted her head, still holding her eyes on his. "Thank you Mr. DeMarco. Call me whenever you want it." Then, gone. "It? It?" Now why did she say that? Was it a slip of the tongue? Call me whenever you need... what?... a baby sitter?... a blow job... a fresh teenage cunt? She must know he lusts after her. All the looks. She must have noticed. Goddamn, skintight jeans all the time. Her pear shaped ass is his face. She must have noticed him looking at her in class, at her tits, her pussy pressed up tight against her jeans. She must have read his thoughts. He drove home with one hand on the steering wheel. He fucked his wife in the living room, on the floor. Then again. And still a third time. Next morning, after she settled the kid down with his first bottle, Natalie slipped into bed next to her husband. They had been married almost three years. There was still much to learn about each other. "You were so hot last night, you almost wore me out. Was it the movie?" Again, sooner than he hoped. She arrived on time. Her attire was always in the latest teen style. Boots, low rise skin tight jeans without rear pockets, thong, studded belt, all the regular paraphernalia. The whole effect was stunning. He invited her in and his eyes followed the fabulous ass, that ass he wanted so much to bury his face in. His cock began to swell in his pants as he contemplated how attractive Miranda's body and personality appeared. A one in-a-thousand type young girl that awakened lustful thoughts in grown men. He concluded Miranda's sex appeal was transcendent. It crossed all barriers. Her father: Peter wondered how hard it must be for her father, a handsome athletic type, to live in very close quarters with such a young appealing piece of ass. Most of all, he wondered why she didn't have a date. She didn't seem to have anyone in particular, although there were boys around her all the time. Miranda started sitting for them about six months ago, and as she settled herself on the couch he went to get her a soda. Then his wife Natalie arrived with white wine: one for herself and one for him. The three made small talk for awhile. As soon as Miranda finished her soda his wife, with a impish grin and a wink at her husband, offered wine to the adolescent. It was risky, Peter thought: Alcohol, underage, student. They could both be fired if Miranda was the type to brag: it would be all over school quickly. But the thought shortly fled him. There was something about the girl's easy manner that reassured him. The way she sat, the way she moved, the subtle way she seemed to transmit her sexuality, as if to say, "I know that the rules are only rules. Breaking them is so much fun!" It wasn't so much Miranda who worried him as some rival of hers; he knew how jealous and vindictive and envious teenage girls could be. Already he'd heard stories and hints from colleagues about teachers who mysteriously disappeared following rumors. They made a lot more small talk. Time passed. Natalie refilled their glasses. Ordinarily his wife moved by the clock but now she seemed in no hurry to leave for the movie. Gradually Peter realized they were going to miss the movie, at least the first showing, and didn't care. Everyone became more comfortable, more settled and open. The conversation gradually got around to relationships, and that led to talk of sex. It was very warm in the house. Miranda was glowing with charm and interest. Her radiant skin was flawless, her tits firm and high and showing their nipples. Were they hard? Now Peter was bold enough to ask directly why she didn't have a date this night; why she seemed not to have a steady. "Boys my age aren't all that great" was all she said, and after a pause, turned the conversation toward them. "How did you two come together? I mean, what especially attracted you to each other?" "It was his face..." Natalie answered, and after some hesitation added, brazenly: "his cock too ... he sure knew how to use it... still does." Peter was alarmed and scared: too far. It was one thing to offer wine to the kid, something that could perhaps be overlooked and maybe minimized if it became known at school. But this kind of talk? It was too blatant. Such language couldn't be explained away. Now what? "And you know what attracted Peter to me?" she asked the girl, another impish grin on her lips. The young teacher lifted her palms to her firm lovely tits and said: "These. When we were in college he couldn't suck them enough." Before Peter could say a word Natalie's quick hand crossed the short distance between herself and the student. She started to caress one of Miranda's beautiful breasts. Her voice was husky and full of arousal when she asked her husband "wouldn't you like to suck these, Peter? They're soo beautiful, like when I was her age." Peter said nothing. She turned her full attention to Miranda, lifted the girl's jersey top, purring. There was no resistance. Just a big smile. The sheer, wispy bra was unsnapped. She continued, both hands on the stunning orbs, lightly arousing them. "I've sucked them, Peter. Her nipples get very hard and long, just like mine. Watch us!" she hissed. She placed her mouth over Miranda's left tit. "Shit!" thought Peter. It was instantly clear: His wife had been fucking with the girl. His wife was hot for the girl. Just like him. She lusted after Miranda as much as he did! And the little devil, his wife, had beat him to it! When and where did she seduce the kid? Son of a bitch! His cock was very hard and wet. Oh, my oh my, we're all gonna fuck! Screw the movies, screw the school, screw the principal. Screw the world. He watched them together: better than any movie. Natalie had aroused the girl so that both were kissing, and a deep moan from Natalie—the undeniable sound of lust—filled the room. He could see his wife's hand move between the girl's legs. Miranda slouched forward and opened wider. Yeah, they had done this before, no question. Eventually, his wife and the girl wound up on the floor, stretched across the deep soft carpet. One by one they shed articles of their clothing, and he, on the pretext of helping, slipped off his student's white thong and hid it, undetected, in his pocket. Peter contemplated what fun he would have with the little garment later. Their warm smooth bodies: his hands explored every crack and crevice and fold. How beautiful nature's design of women and girls! Soft and shapely. He spent so many hours admiring his girls in class, their charming faces, full firm inviting tits, flared hips, their tempting asses. Now, thanks to his wife, he could touch one—by far the best of his students even among the stunning collection of girls he had in daily, close contact. Miranda, teenage slender, was as angelic naked as he'd imagined her. It didn't surprise him too much his wife was doing this. Always, in the back of his mind he knew something like this would happen: that their sex together would turn kinky. His wife was so libidinous, so horny for sex all the time. They fucked in every room, every which way. Their sexual activity had to grow. How pleased he was it grew in this direction He snapped one picture, then a dozen more. Oh Natalie, you beautiful slut! How lucky I am to have you! There you are, your cute face buried between the legs of this sexy teenage girl, lapping her pussy, making her squirm, making her beg. Eat her good! Keep your ass up, baby! That ass was the first thing about you I fell in love with! I'm going to fuck it just they way you always like, my dick, hard and long, between the cheeks of your ass. He got on his hands and knees behind his wife. His tongue went to work on her hot ass. She made welcoming animal sounds, her face still pressed into the girl's sweet cunt. Then his cock. He pushed very slowly into her and remembered, when the were dating, maybe only the second or third time in bed, how she insisted on getting it in the ass, surprising him a little. No wonder she liked it: later Natalie told him her 17 year old brother used to fuck her like that when she was 15, and they did it that way for over a year. How could he tell his colleagues about this? How could he casually pass around these pictures at the lunch table while watching with satisfaction their astounding reactions. Frustrating: this would have to be bottled up. If only he could boast about this little exploit his status would leap upward and, no doubt, arouse great envy too. It must all remain in the dark. Peter pressed his dick into her a fraction of an inch at a time. He wanted to maximize his pleasure, feel every little tingle, every squeeze of her tight hole grab his hardon firmly. She was amazingly tight considering how many times her brother and her husband had done it in the back. Soon they came. His wife and the girl, then a moment later Peter into his wife's ass. How beautiful they looked together, slim and sleek and athletic, all tangled together on the carpet. Their tanned bodies glowed in the low orange light of the living room lamps. No regrets. It was just sex. They tidied up and snacked on junk food, all the while admiring each other's bodies, casually touching and kissing. Peter demanded to know in detail how it started, how his wife seduce his beautiful student. "Me?" cried Natalie. "It was this little fox! Always in tight jeans in class with her legs spread; her tight tops. Her looks. She seduced me." He learned it all started innocently enough: looking. It started with the eyes. His wife noticed how Miranda fixed her eyes on her teacher, how when they spoke together the student's eyes held her in a deep gaze. And Natalie responded. Gradually, over a period of some time, they seemed to have developed a secret channel of communication between them, right there in class, right in school—all by looks alone. Natalie had had her own share of lesbian experiences when she was a teenager with a number of girls her age, and several women. The women were the same age she herself was now, so it was easy for her to imagine how pleasurable it would be to nestle her face between the firm warm thighs of the girl, to lick her and taste her and fuck her. Soon, she was fantasizing about the girl all the time, and the girl, she later learned, was masturbating in bed at night about her teacher. It was only a matter of time. Then, they were both alone in the school's fitness gym. His wife was on a stationary bike; the lovely, lithe Miranda, on a yoga mat not far away. The room was warm and softly lit, a room in which the body was displayed and appreciated, a place where an undertone of sex always seemed to drift in the atmosphere. They were aware they were watching each other more than casually. The gleam of the shiny grey spandex tights of the student revealed every slight movement, every twitch and crevasse. His wife felt an arousal building. "Shit!" thought Natalie, "I was just as hot a little cock tease when I was her age." Miranda sensed the teacher's desire. She made her yoga movements more explicit, more sexual, pointing her ass at the teacher lewdly in the downward dog position, and otherwise moving so that the crease of her pussy was unmistakably presented for admiration. A friendly smirk was on her face, but her eyes were lowered. "Then you know what this hot little number did?" she asked her husband. He was barely in a condition to respond as he feasted his eyes with undisguised lust on the girl next to his wife. "She rubbed her pussy! She rubbed her pussy for me to notice." "Show him how you did it, Miranda. Go on. He's dying over there. Look how hot he is for you, honey. His dick is so hard!" You bet I want it, Natalie. I love you and your body and the sex we have together, but shit... sixteen years old. Not every day do you find one that wants to play like this. Hot, you bet I'm hot: I want to put my face between those beautiful teenage legs." Miranda moved toward Peter. She positioned herself in front of his chair, hands on her hips. She planted her feet wide apart. Then her right hand slid around her tummy very slowly, then down very provocatively until at last her long supple fingers arrived at her pussy. His eyes fixed to her hand at the "v' of her legs. His wife rose from the couch and placed herself behind the girl, encircling the student's slender waist with her arms. Natalie's hands slid upward toward the student's firm, hard breasts and tweaked her nipples. Miranda's subtle fingers continued to massage her own pussy, making it hotter and wetter. He saw those fingers in class innocently wrapped around her pen, doing one of his lessons. "Go ahead, Peter," encouraged his wife, "don't you want her?" she asked. "She tells me you always look at her tits and pussy in class. She'd so much like you to eat her. That's what she thinks about while you lecture. I don't blame her; I'd do the same if you were my teacher. Eat her like you eat me. Like you did when we were dating." The girl was becoming delirious and could hardly emit anything more than a few breathless sounds. Below, Peter gently removed Miranda's hands from her pussy and replaced them with his face. He could smell her sweet arousal, and waves of strong contractions passed over his groin. Slow down, slow down. You'll loose it in your pants... Want her to swallow it... My dream. The three were locked now in an triple embrace of desire and inhibitions that may have lingered now melted away. Behind the girl, Natalie slowly slipped to the floor, and from this position was able to admire close up that gorgeous teenage ass that had so often tempted her. Now she would have it, would have as much of it as her greedy libido desired. She kissed and caressed both beautiful globes for a long time. Her husband's hot tongue meanwhile was at work on the other side, working far up into the girl. Moans and groans of deep sexual satisfaction arose from three throats. As Natalie parted the cheeks with her thumbs she thought back to the time when she was this girl's age, the times when her father used to stimulate her with his fingers and his tongue, just as she was doing now. Secret little games she had played with Daddy since she was small. Just like Daddy: I like to lick young girl ass. Poor Miranda! If a girl could be tortured with pleasure it was happening to her. In this center of her body, in this nerve center of sexual stimulation, a hundred thousand neurons were alive with delight. She was experiencing a bliss far beyond anything imagined in her young life. Alone and masturbating she would create scenes like this one, but it never was as real as it needed to be. But now here was her fantasy life coming true! God, those fantasy scenes: teachers, students, members of her family, young actors, that guy at the record store, his sixteen year old sister, that dude in the Speedos at the beach last summer. So many guys and girls stimulated her churning libido and forced her to seek relief with her fingers. Now these two adults were lifting her out of mere masturbation into a whole new realm of sensuality. God, you taste so good. This sucking went on for sometime and Miranda would have orgasmed wildly if the two adults hadn't moved their attention from her genitals to her whole sweet body, careful to cover every inch of it with their fingers and tongues. She closed her eyes and swam in the delicious sensations. The result was that soon Miranda's skin itself became eroticized, became another kind of sexual organ. She felt as she did as a little child when a new blanket, or pair soft of pjs set her skin tingling with crazy excitement. Her determined lovers licked every curve and every crevice, every fold, and every bulge and nook they could find. The sensation was so strong, so different and so overwhelming for her that she begged Peter and Natalie to stop. She broke away. She flung herself back on the couch, exhausted, panting for breath, her legs parted, eyes closed, so sweetly vulnerable to the couple. They let her rest. They all enjoyed another snack. The young couple kept telling Miranda how beautiful and sexy she appeared, declaring she was the most desirable girl in the school, hands down. And it was true. She accepted all the praise with thanks and modesty, as if she were being praised for scoring a perfect mark on a difficult test. But Miranda already knew she was sexy. Miranda knew her attractiveness to others. People always complimented her looks and her figure. Her father had been telling her so for years. Her father, the handsome man, had been licking her pussy since she was twelve. She'd been playing with his hard dick since that age, and began sucking him when she was fourteen. She began masturbating with girls in the sixth grade, and in the seventh she and a few special friends taught each other how to lick pussy. People always looked at her. It really came as no surprise to her that one of her teachers, and now two teachers, wanted sex with her. They moved to the bedroom. Ever since having sex with the girl in the teacher's car, Natalie had wanted to give her a proper fucking. The cramped confines of a car at the far end of the dark school parking lot had not afforded much chance for anything other than quick finger fucking and brief tit sucking, which they did as often as once a week. But now Natalie had the leisure to do what she had longed to do almost from the first meeting with the girl. Her husband helped her strap the rubber cock in place. It was a familiar toy to them. Natalie had acquired one in college and she and her roommate had used it on each other often. It came along with her marriage to her husband and Natalie would sometimes recall for him how she fucked her college lover and was fucked by her. In bed when they fantasized how she would fuck women and students they both found attractive, Peter suspected that his wife wanted him to submit also, to lie face down while she slowly worked the dick up between the cheeks of his tight ass. Well, maybe some day he would. But right now he wasn't sure he wanted this reversal of roles. Not that he hadn't been fucked in the ass ever. It happened the first time when he was fourteen, but that was with another boy and they traded the favors and that seemed ok and a masculine thing to do. And maybe a dozen times after that with attractive boys in high school and college, but always trading evenly, keeping the books balanced, so to speak. He got the camera again and came back in time to see his wife rubbing the cock with baby oil, getting it well lubricated. Then she told Miranda to get down on the floor on all fours, she was going to fuck her doggy style. The dildo slid in easily, for Miranda had been fucked perhaps two dozen times already—by her father. Peter took twenty or thirty pictures and imagined casually posting them in the faculty lounge and enjoying the shock they would cause. But then the camera was put aside. His large, rigid cock stood out from his between his legs and he could feel it leading him toward Miranda and Natalie. He didn't care which orifice it entered so long as it buried itself deep and strong into one of them. He rubbed its mauve, fleshly head along neck, arm, thigh, face and ass, seeking an entry. God, this was better than anything he'd fantasized. Two sweet pussies fucking each other. It was as if they'd become one and he could have any choice piece of it he wanted. Natalie understood his need and arranged her body and the student's so to be more receptive to his tool. They moved to the bed. His wife sprawled on her back, the girl instructed to ride her with all seven inches of the dark plastic cock up her adolescent pussy. Up and down, up and down —long and slow. The girl was a natural. Peter's cock soon found its place deep in the girl's warm ass. It was heaven. Not only had he often dreamed of fucking her between the cheeks of her tight ass, to feel the grip of her young body on his rigid tool, but she was obviously loving it tremendously, moaning and crying out sounds of lust and great pleasure. And more: his wife was fucking her too. Deep inside the girl's warm ass he could feel the hard staff of the dildo. He rubbed against it and came quickly, large strong jets of semen exploded again and again until he felt the most complete satisfaction, felt drained of the very last measure of physical desire. He rolled off in exhaustion. The girl and his wife lasted much longer. They paced themselves and seemed completely synchronized into each other's rhythm working together as one aimed at complete release. Peter lifted his head to watch the finish. God, how beautiful they were together! The teacher composed himself, zipped up his pants, clasped his hands behind his head, and leaned back into his swivel chair, his legs wide apart. It was such a good feeling to disperse the tension of the day with a strong orgasm. especially if you let it go into the mouth of one of your beautiful students. Yes, he mused, the job was way harder than the pay justified, but with a fringe benefit like Miranda there were compensations. Caution, though. Caution had to be exercised. It was a dangerous game. Just one slip could bring everything down. What if she suddenly had a change of heart? What if she suddenly turned all moral on him and his wife? What if she bragged to a jealous girl friend? He contemplated these thoughts, and others like them, with half-closed, dreamy eyes. Her assignment was waiting on his desk. It was late. Of course she was going to get an A. Did she expect anything less? Did he think he was going to give her anything less? He considered whether he should bother to read it. Time to go home to fuck Natalie and describe the student's blow job. Just then there was a quiet knock. The door opened slightly. Leaning through the opening, just his head and shoulders visible, was Paul, the young history teacher from the next office. Peter was startled because he believed no one was down at his end of the corridor. For a moment or two neither of them spoke. Then the history teacher, a shit-eating stupid grin on his reddened face, said flatly: "I want some of that too."