                     A BOOK BY THE PHOENIX
                reprinted with the permission of
                      David Alexander

                        Chapter One
 
  Bert Ellis was daydreaming again.  His gaze was softly focused on
the figure of Carole Van Hoff as she jumped and gyrated at
cheerleader practice.  Bert couldn't hear the cheers extolling the
virtues of fighting for good old Walter Williams Memorial High
School, but he had a great view of the incredibly sexy girl.  Her
blond hair rocketed up and gently floated down with every graceful
leap; Bert imagined those Delft china-blue eyes fastened on him,
lust- ful and wanton.  Her firm, young tits barely swayed or
bounced. That was good.  Bert didn't like big floppy boobs.
  At least, he didn't think he did. He wasn't sure what he really
liked in a woman. He had lots of fantasies -  Carole's seduction
being primary one in his head right now - but damn little
experience.  If pressed on the issue, Bert would have to admit to
no experience at all.
  He was a virgin.
  The heartening words of some sage kept coming back in his
dream-filled existence. "Virginity is a curable perversion." He
wanted to be cured in the worst way. The only trouble was, he
didn't know how to go about it.
  He wasn't ugly or even very pimply-faced. While he wasn't the
athlete his friend Cruncher Hiatt was, he was not the  ninety-eight
pound weakling in the "before" pictures in all the magazines. He
just didn't know how to go about getting a girl to jump in bed with
him.
  But he had plans. There was a city-wide photo contest. The first
prize wasn't much, but a national magazine would print the winning
photograph. Bert was one hell of a photographer and he saw this as
a solution to a lot of his problems. If he could convince Carole
she should pose for him, and he won the contest, he'd be famous and
she'd be famous. She would have him, Bert Ellis, to thank for the
launching of a long and profitable modeling career.
  And she could thank him with that gorgeous body of hers. His eyes
never left Carole's dancing, twirling, trim figure. The tight
crimson sweater offset the cascade of blonde hair nicely, Bert
thought. And the pleated white dress that came to mid-thigh swirled
and revealed those fine, slender, shapely legs and pert, tight ass
so nicely. He could watch her all day, even if it made him
uncomfortable.
  His erection strained against his blue jeans and bulged
ominously. He hoped old battleaxe Mrs. Entwhistle didn't call on
him. It would be excruciatingly embarrassing to have to stand up in
front of the class with that telltale tenting in his pants.
  Luckily, Bert escaped the class without having to be put on
exhibit. When the bell rang to signal the end of class, the last
clang had barely died by the time Bert was outside the building and
running pell-mell through the milling students over to where Carole
and the other four cheerleaders practiced. He cast a quick,
covetous glances at the others. He had heard lots of things about
them from  Cruncher.  Cruncher claimed to have made it with all of
the cheerleaders except Carole.
  Judy was short, brunette and has a gymnast's body.  Every curve
and contour was just right for the maximum turn-on. Laura was very
short, at least six inches shorter than Bert's five foot eight, but
she made up for her height in sheer sexiness. If there was such a
thing as sex density, Laura would be one of the heaviest girls in
the world. Bert would have made a play for her, except he'd have to 
wait in line forever. There wasn't a guy in school who wasn't
drooling and panting after Laura. Redhaired  Consuela was too tall
for him, and that made him a bit uneasy. Of all the cheerleaders,
Bert knew he'd probably have the best chance with Consuela because
she earned some money doing modeling after school and on weekends.
His come-on would be perfect for her. But her height...
  Then there was Lynn. Straight black hair, a fairly good body and
great legs. Bert could barely drag his eyes away from those milky
pillars that tantalizingly disappeared up under her skirt into that
mysterious land between her legs.
  But Bert focused all his attentions on the blonde Carole. He
thought if he even said hello to any of the others, he'd lose that
momentum, that carefully nurtured nerve he had  built up to ask
Carole to pose for him.
  He wished it could be in the nude, but he knew he had  better not
spring anything like that on her. He'd just ask to shoot some
pictures of her in an artsy-craftsy motif, possibly out in the
woods. Maybe she'd be so grateful for the chance to pose for a real
live photographer, he could fuck her right then and there and
wouldn't even have to win the contest.
  Almost out of breath, he came skidding up to a halt in front of
Carole. "Gee, hi Carole!" he blurted.
  "Hello." Her voice dripped chilled water and turned to icicles in
front of his very eyes.
  "Uh, Carole you know about the picture contest? I'd sure like to
have you pose for some pictures, and I'm sure we could win, I mean
the picture would win and you'd have national publicity and I'd win
the..." His voice trailed off as he saw her looking over his
shoulder, not paying the least bit of attention to him.
  "Excuse me, Bert. Hi Tony!" She raced over to Tony diMaria, the
suave, handsome student body president. They went off together, his
arm around her waist and Carole snuggling close to him.
  Bert watched dejectedly as they disappeared in the direction of
the A&W stand. That should have been him instead of Tony going with
Carole to get a couple of root beers. He'd have to think of some
other tactic to get her to agree. Maybe if he went over to her
house later in the afternoon, he could talk to her.
  That was it. She just didn't want to seem to eager in  front of
the other cheerleaders. Bert was positive he could talk her into
posing for him if he could see her privately. With his great
photographic ability and her even better figure, he couldn't lose.
He was sure.
  He slowly made his way to Carole's house, waiting long enough
to insure that she'd be home. He wasn't quite sure what to say now
that his first request had been put aside so easily by the
gorgeous, flaxen-haired girl. He squared his shoulders and marched
up the green bisque tile walk to the front door.
  He punched to doorbell fiercely as if he could drive out all his
fears this way and, in what seemed an eternity, the portal finally
swung open. It was Carole's mother. Bert gulped once as he looked
at the woman. He was always amazed at how much she looked like her
daughter. The same platinum blonde hair, slightly taller and fuller
of figure, but that only made her look more mature. To be Carole's
mother, Robin van der Hoff didn't look old at all. Certainly not
thirty-nine years old.
  "Hello, Bert," her voice was soft and smooth it seemed to reach
out and gently caress the young photographer. He couldn't help but
eye her in appreciation. She was wearing a soft flowing, diaphanous
dressing gown. Her figure was totally hidden, but the draft from
the open door pressed the filmy green material back against her.
Robin looked like one of those models, posing for a lingerie ad,
that Bert never failed to get a hard-on looking at.
  "Uh, hi, Mrs. van der Hoff. Is Carole in? I'd like to talk to
her."
  "Come on in and I'll get her." Bert couldn't keep his eyes off
her as the older woman flowed down the hallway with an elegance and
easy grace that even her daughter lacked.
  Bert heard Mrs. van der Hoff speaking with Carole. All of the
conversation he overheard faded as one segment burned itself into
his mind. Carole had said "That creep? I'm  leaving. Tell him I'm
not home yet and you don't know when I'll be back."
  Robin returned a few minutes later to find Bert sitting numbly in
an overstuffed chair staring out into the backyard, watching crisp
gold, yellow, and orange leaves fall from the deciduous trees to
form a gentle, multi-hued carpet on the lawn.
  "Bert," Robin's voice called to him, soft, magnetic, colorful. 
For a brief instant, he managed to compare it to the picturesque
backyard. "Carole doesn't want to talk to you. Is something wrong?
Can I help?"
  Bert was in a daze of rejection. Carole had totally and
irrevocably dismissed him. "It doesn't matter, Mrs. van der Hoff.
Thanks."
  As he stood, he felt cool, long fingers on his arm restraining
him. He looked down and Robin was hanging onto his arm preventing
him from leaving. Bert's eyes slowly traced the creamy line of her
arm to the green mist of her dressing gown. He noticed it had come
untied at the throat and was now open and exposing the very tops of
her breasts. He heavily sat back down and just stared at her.
  She asked again, "Is there anything I can do?" Her azure eyes
studied him with a mixture of sympathy and understanding - and
something else Bert wasn't sure he recognized.
  Under he persuasive questioning, he finally spilled the entire
story. And somehow, he managed to tell her he was  still a virgin.
His ears burned a flaming red when he realized how much he had told
this woman about some very personal things. She seemed a sympathetic
listener and, right now, that was what Bert needed.
  "Bert, my daughter is...a bit distant. But it's for about the
same reason you're so upset now. She isn't sure of her- self, and
by building a wall around herself, she can fend off anyone she
isn't sure about. It's one way to keep from getting hurt.
  "Yeah, maybe you're right. But the wall seems to be more of an
iceberg."
  "It could just be your approach, Bert. I have an idea. Why don't
you pretend I'm Carole and ask me to pose for you? It'll give you
an opportunity to see how she'll react." Robin settled comfortably
down on the large sofa and faced Bert, her trim calves peeking out
from under her thin covering.
  Bert wasn't certain, but Robin finally convinced him to try. He
presented his case but found it difficult. The top tiestring of her
green dressing gown exposed more and more of her silky-fleshed tits
as she leaned forward.  The gentle bounce and sway of her boobs
rustled the flimsy fog-like material and excited Bert immensely. As
much as he  tried to prevent it, he found himself growing hard. In
an attempt to control his body, he quickly looked at the floor to
keep from staring at her now half-exposed breasts with the ruddy
tips peering through the fabric.
  This made his erection throb and hurt even more. The  emerald
green gown had scooted up, and now he had an unrestricted view of
Robin's legs all the way to mid-thigh. The creamy, lusciously
smooth skin stirred emotions inside him that he tried desperately
to deny. As Robin slowly, provocatively opened her legs into a wide
V, he caught the merest flash of fleecy blonde pussy peering out at
him from under the pile of nylon.
  "What's the matter, Bert? You look uncomfortable hot. Come over
here and let me take your sweater off for you." Bert felt as if he
were no longer in control of his own actions. It was someone else
controlling his legs when he rose and went to sit beside the mother
of the girl he so desperately wanted to screw. It was someone else
who allowed her to take off his sweater, shirt, and started
skinning him out of his jeans. When he was totally naked, the emo-
tional impact of what was happening slowly dissipated.
  He was still confused but no longer shocked into inactivity. His
fingers fumblingly untied another of the tiestrings on Robin's
gown. Her smile encouraged him to continue. Soon, the Brazilian
topaz-green material seemed to hang like the banks of a river, a
river of white, tantalizing flesh. Robin stood and slowly shrugged
her shoulders  and the dressing gown fell away and she stood
totally naked for Bert's now lusting examination of her body.
  As he hungrily eyed her, he almost came right then and there.
That would have been the supreme embarrassment. He managed to quiet
his churning nuts and just gaze at Carole's mother.
  She was prettier than any of his wet dreams. Blonde, beautiful,
willing. Bert didn't have the experience - yet - to really
appreciate everything being offered him. The skyblue eyes of the
woman studied Bert but always came back to linger at his seven inch
long erection.
  If Robin lusted after his man-size prong, Bert was confused as to
what to desire most.  Her boobs were a delight to behold - or hold.
They were high set, firm with just enough slackness to dance and
sway back and forth in gentle arcs when she moved. Robin moved
well, he had to admit that. Everything seemed to be perfectly
proportioned and she was as graceful as a high fashion model. She
slowly turned for him to reveal every last secret of her body. For
him! Bert couldn't understand it. He struck out with her daughter
and now Robin was trying to seduce him.
  Trying? He'd make sure this lovely creature was successful!
  As her tits wove invisible circles in the air with their
ruddy-brown tips, Robin turned her back to Bert. The smooth expanse
of flesh flared to broad, womanly hips and the best ass Bert had
ever seen.  The legs and thighs presented to him were connoisseur
material. Shapely, trim, and long.
  Tiring of posturing for the boy. Robin reached out and pulled him
down onto the soft bearskin rug in front of the fireplace. Bert
irrelevently noticed it was a fake fireplace and didn't burn real
logs. But when Robin kissed him, he knew the feeling of real fire
instantly.
  As he luxuriated in the feel of the soft fur caressing his naked
body, Robin's tongue edged into Bert's mouth and toyed with his
oral member. He almost gagged, then got the hang of positioning his
organ of taste so that Robin's delving member would stroke and
lightly glide over his. They kissed for what seemed an eternity to
Bert, and he reveled in every second of it! He couldn't believe his
good luck. His first lay!
  Panic struck him when Robin reached down and gripped his firm
cock. What if he didn't do it right? Almost as if she had a killing
touch, he felt his hard-on wilt.
  Robin didn't seem to notice. She began massaging his balls,
tweaking and delicately pinching his scrotum, gently running her
long fingers through his pubic hair.  As she breathed heavily in
his ear, hot breath exciting him, she managed to whisper, "Don't
worry about anything, darling. I'll take care of you. Just lay back
and enjoy it."
  Tongues of flames licked at his ear as her wet, warm ton- gue
flicked in and out. She gently nibbled his earlobe as she continued
her manual stroking of his penis.
  Bert was both surprised and happy when his cock began to stir and
rear its proud head again. Robin quickly grabbed its burgeoning
full length and began stroking. Her fingers felt cool, but Bert
experienced intense erotic fire burning and searing in his tool
from the base to the very tip.
  It slowly occurred to his pleasure filled mind he could be doing
something with his hands. He reached out and took both of Robin's
jugs firmly in hand. He slowly, rhythmically squeezed them and was
pleased when she emitted a low, shuddery sigh of pleasure. The
nipples seemed to expand and grow as he played with them. It
fascinated him to watch the tiny reddish-brown nubbins erupt
into hard, blood-filled little fingers pointing at him. His hands
soon became cramped and he did what came naturally. He pulled Robin
to him and began suckling at her tits. This seemed to excite her
immensely and the feeling of her breathing increase excited Bert,
too. He had to try to control himself because he could feel the
sperm and semen crouching in his balls for the long spring down his
iron-hard love pipe.
  He tongued the nipples and pushed them around in small circles,
back and forth until Robin continually moaned and once even emitted
a little shriek. It scared Bert for a second, then he figured
everything was still all right because she tightened the grip on
his cock.
  His firmly clutched manhood began to throb and jerk with ever
greater frequency. He knew he couldn't hold off much longer even
though he wanted to and experience everything  with Robin.
  "Ro...Robin, please. It's feeling so hot, and I'm going to come."
He gulped as she continued to slowly stroke up and down his length
with those agonizingly pleasurable needles of sensation leaping
from her every touch, no matter how slight.
  "Just...lie back, Bert, dear." Robin flowed up and straddled the
boy's waist. She held him captive both physically and mentally.
Bert stared down his supine length in awe as he watched the satin
thighs position themselves on each side of his body. He was totally
enthralled when Robin rose up slightly, spread her blonde,
fur-rimmed cuntal lips and dragged Bert's cock to the gates of
Eden.
  At least that's what it felt like to Bert. The moist, liquid
feeling as his glans touched her outer labia almost brought him
off. He resisted and found the effort worthwhile. He watched his
red, swollen length slowly swallowed by that golden-covered pussy
as Robin gradually lowered her body over his. Soon the blonde hairs
of her furry little triangle inter-mixed with his black pubic hair
in an erotic, living, pulsing kinectic sculpture.
  Things really got pulsing when Robin used her cuntal muscles to
squeeze down on Bert's entrapped, quivering cock. He felt hot jabs
of fire and ice leap into his loins as she clamped down on his
manly length like the jaws of a velvet-lined vice. When she began
fucking him, Bert couldn't keep from twitching and wiggling his
hips under her! In his position, he had to be content to let her
fuck herself on his impaling spike of flesh and just enjoy the
feeling of  the sensuous fur under him and the warm body of the
wanton woman against his groin.
  And fuck herself she did. Slowly at first, then faster and faster
as her passions mounted. Soon clutching her own tits and squeezing
the nipples while royally screwing herself on Bert's jutting cock.
Robin came.
  The woman's climax caused her encasing cunt to convulse and grab
wildly at Bert's rod in a giant's powerful grip. The flames that
had simmered now exploded and raced through his body, along every
nerve, overloading the pleasure centers of his brain. He was
vaguely aware of spewing forth his come into Robin's hungering
cunt, but it was secondary to the universe of sensation that had
been revealed to him. Bert tried to explore every corner of the
new, erotically filled galaxy of exploding stars and burning lust,
but all too soon it died to a smoldering ember.
  Back in the real world, feeling limp from the nervous and
physical release, he saw Robin continue wildly, wantonly fucking
herself on his still rigid dick. She got off once more then slowed
and stopped, exhausted. She finally rose and allowed Bert's limp
penis to wetly slide from her sex slash.  His once mighty pole was
covered with cunt juice and his own seed. The now flaccid organ
smeared the golden hairs of Robin's delectible enticing pussy with
the liquid sex of their fucking.
  She didn't seem to care or notice.
  "How was it, Bert? Your first time."
  He did nothing but look at her nakedness. Bert was no longer a
virgin. In a flash, it occurred to him that he couldn't have gotten
himself laid with such expertise by Carole or any of the other
girls he knew. Robin had too many years of practice behind her to
even be considered in the same league as the kids he went to school
with.
  He just nodded, wondering how he could get some more of that
beckoning, fabulous manhole of Robin's. Bert looked down between
his legs at his sleeping snake, then wondered if it was dead
forever.
  His face must have conveyed some of the message racing in his
mind because Robin laughed, then said, "Don't worry. It isn't
broken. It'll be as good as new in a little while. But you better
go now.  Carole might come back and I doubt if she'd understand."
  For the first time, what he had done impacted like a sledgehammer
blow on Bert's consciousness. "Your husband!" he explained in a
choaked voice.
  Robin donned her green dressing gown and merely said, "He's out
of town a lot. He won't be back from this sales trip for a couple
of weeks, but I don't wnat Carole to know. You'd better leave,
Bert. Now."
  Bert quickly dressed and left. Looking over his shoulder as he
went out the door, he saw Robin sitting on the sofa, a cigarette
dangling from her long fingers and the slightest touch of a smile
dancing at the corners of her mouth.
  "Goodbye, Bert."
  He qucikly closed the door behind him. Outside, he almost yelled
for all to hear, "I'm the biggest stud around!" Instead, he was
content to just go off, whistling tunelessly, secure in his
knowledge that he was now a man.

                      Chapter Two
 
  Bert should have been a broken field runner. He adeptly wiggled
his way through the crowded cafeteria with his food laden tray and
never spilled a drop of his milk or a blob of the gooey chocolate
pudding. He found an empty chair next to his friend, Cruncher
Hiatt, and sat down.
  "Hi Crunch. How's it going?"
  "Not so bad, man. In fact, real good. Me and Laura went out after
the game Saturday night, you know? That chick is really hot in bed,
let me tell you." Cruncher smirked and continued eating.
  Bert sighed. He wished he could be as suave as Cruncher. But then
he didn't yet have the experience with girls that his friend did.
And, Bert had to admit, there was a certain power aura around a guy
who could break through a defensive line and toss the quarterback
around like a sack of brass doorknobs. That game Saturday had been
a big one for Cruncher. Several college recruiters had been
watching, and he had really shined. He had thrown the Slaten High
quarterback for a total loss of almost sixty yards.
  And Bert imagined that Laura had been impressed enough to let
Cruncher score with her, too.
  "Yeah, some game Crunch. And Laura is a hell of a sexy broad,
too. Say you know all about things. What's the best approach to use
on Carole?"
  Cruncher looked like he was deep in thought as his brow furrowed.
He finally said, "Carole? The blonde cheerleader? Man, Bert, I'd
say you could do better than waste your time there. She's a real
bitch. Complete iceberg. Maybe even frigid. Bet she's got ice cubes
stuuffed up her cunt. Take my advice and lay off her. You'd just be
missing out some- place else."
  Bert continued eating his lunch in silence. He was worried.
Cruncher knew what he was talking about when it came to two
subjects, football and women. If the great make-out artist said to
forget Carole, maybe he should. Bert knew  that if a football hero,
a potential All-American offensive lineman and a really cool guy
like Hiatt couldn't give any advice on how to make it with a chick,
it might be impossible.
  "You really think it's no good, Crunch?" Bert hoped there might
be some small ray of encouragement shining through the clouds of
dispair.
  "No hope at all, Bert. Believe me, lay off her. Got to get to
class. See you later." The big tackle stood and  weaved through the
crowd, his crimson and white letter jacket finally disappearing
through the cafeteria doorway.
  Bert lost his appetite, but he continued to eat anyway. Even if
he didn't feel like it, he should have some food in his stomach. He
had to work late tonight finishing the photo layouts for the paper.
It was going to be a special edition, and he had some unique ideas
to better illustrate the school's sports program.
  The rest of the day passed in a blur of inconsequential events,
and Bert was glad when the final class of the day ended. He hurried
to the journalism room and saw Mr. Woodward just leaving.
  The journalism teacher looked up from stuffing his brief- case
with a stack of papers to be graded and greeted his  student.
"Hello, Bert. Are you going to work tonight on that special layout
for the sports edition tomorrow?"
  When Bert told him that he was, the teacher continued, "Good. But
remember that the entire thing has to be at the printer's shop
before midnight so he can burn the plates  and get it run. I'll see
you tomorrow."
  "Okay, Mr Woodward. Have a nice evening."
  "I will, Bert, I will. Jim Elliot and I are going over to Jeff
Morehead's house for a little poker game. But don't spread it
around. We school types have to keep that goodie-goodie facade at
all costs. We're not supposed to smoke or drink or gamble or fuck.
Or be human, if the school board had their way. 'Night!" With that,
the man was off.
  Bert sighed and went in the darkroom glued onto the back of the
classroom. He began setting up his developing pans and mixing the
Dektol and a fresh batch of stop bath. Bert critically surveyed the
fixer solution and decided that he could filter out some of the
silver sediment at the bottom and use the fluid again, for one more
batch of prints, at least. The youthful photographer checked out
his enlarger and made sure he had the negatives he needed. Most
were of the football team, a few were of the cheerleaders. Bert
longingly eyed a particularly good shot of Carole leaping into the
air, legs spread wide and her head thrown back in a wild cheer.
Bert sat on the large counter for several minutes looking at the
negative and thinking what it would be like to get into Carole's
pants.
  He almost jumped when a low, sultry voice demanded, "What the
hell are you doing here?"
  He turned frightened eyes to the doorway and saw Alana Montray,
the editor of the newspaper. Bert sighed in relief. He had thought
it was a guard or someone come to toss him out. He hadn't bothered
to get a pass from Woodward and he couldn't prove he hadn't broken
in to steal something.
  "Hi, Alana. I'm just getting ready to do some layout work for the
sport section tomorrow. What are you doing here?" Bert eyed the
black chick for the first time. Somehow, he had been more of a
rabbit than a man before he had fucked Robin. Now he was more
outgoing, more positive in his approach to women. And Alana could
be described as worthy of an approach.
  The girl was alluring, svelt, trim. Her frizzy Afro hairdo
accentuated the slender-boned face, the deep brown skin the color
of mocha. And her body! Bert wondered how he could have ever failed
to notice that before.
  She had moderately large tits, but the tiny waste and decidedly
feminine hips stretched her doubleknit pantsuit outfit to the
limits of endurance. If she'd had a rip in the garment, Bert
thought she'd have to mend it with a can of spray paint. The
shocking pink outfit clung to her like  a second skin. And anew,
Bert wondered how he could have missed do much. Perhaps her
constant nearness had made him overlook her.
  But he certainly couldn't overlook her now. He could see the tiny
mushrooms that were her nipples prodding against the fabric of her
blouse. Bert guessed there must be a jacket to the outfit
somewhere, but it had been cast aside to reveal the almost
see-through lacy white blouse.
  As Alana leaned against the doorjamb and crossed one leg in front
of the other, she said, "I don't know what it is with you, Bert.
Lately you seem so...different, I guess. Something happen to your
head?"
  His head? Hardly!
  "You know how it is, Alana. When you're hot, you're hot. And this
seems like a good time for me. Things have been clicking. But don't
stand there. Come on in. You said you wanted to see how we
photographers worked."
  Alana smiled, ivory teeth flashing and contrasting with her dark
skin. "Man, you have changed!" She slowly pulled  the door shut and
plunged the room into total darkness.
  Bert knew the layout of the darkroom as well as his own bedroom.
He took three rapid steps toward Alana and reached out, his hand
finding a large, marshmallowy tit. When she squealed, Bert said,
"Oh, sorry. The sudden darkness made me lose my balance."
  "Like hell it did. When I said you'd change, I was really
understating it a lot, wasn't I?" Bert felt the editor move closer
to him, reach out and grasp his other hand. She pulled it up to her
neglected tit and quietly said, "There is two of them, you know..."
  Bert didn't need any more urging. His mouth descended with
radar-like accuracy and found the black girl's to stifle any
further comment with a long, deep kiss. As his tongue penetrated
the vastness of herr oral cavern, Alana groaned and her arms
encircled bert, pulling him closer.
  Their bodies locked together, they continued a long soul kiss.
Bert didn't ever want to stop. He relished the feel of her cool
skin against his body, the feel of her hands roaming aimlessly
across his back. His hands became cramped, but he was loathe to
give up his twin handfuls of titflesh. Alana was a really stacked,
hot chick, and he didn't want to let her escape.
  Finally, they had to break apart in order to catch their breath.
Alana said in her husky, sultry voice, "Man, have  you changed!"
  "For the better?" Bert asked, as his now numble fingers began
unfastening the buttons on Alana's fragile blouse. He felt the girl
returning the favor and, soon, they were both naked to the waist.
He gripped the girl to him again, this time powerfully crushing her
body against his. The  kiss was electric. Scintillatiing current
flowed magnically between them. He felt the sharp points of her
compressed tits poking into his chest. As the girl's passion
mounted, her nipples became hareder and tried to spear holes in the
photographer's chest.
  Bert allowed one hand to wander down inside the waist band of his
editor's slacks, and he grasped a handful of black ass. Slowly,
methodically, he began massaging and kneading the globe of flesh as
he pulled her ever so closer to him. He felt the girl's mound grind
up against his hardon, then eventually begin to rotate around and
around testing his self-control to the utmost. With Alana running
a- gainst the sensitive underside, it took all of his concen-
tration to keep from ejaculating.
  But he was learning. He kept his attention focused on her lucious
mouth, her lust-hardened nipples gouging into his smooth chest, the
handful of asscheek he was playing with. He tried to ignore the
little campfire in his groin that was threatening to leap out into
a full fledged forest fire at any moment.
  Alana deserted his mouth to move her agile, flickering tongue to
his ear. Bert felt the hot, quick breath on his earlobe, thrilled
to the sensation of the snake-quick thrusts of her oral digit
plunging into his ear channel. When she began to nibble and gnaw
lightly on his ear, Bert muttered, "I need you, Alana. I want you
more than I have anyone else before."
  "No, Bert, no... I don't want to get pregnant."   
  While she was making her protestations, Bert was orally working
on her ears. It was quickly apparent this was an extremely
erogenous zone for her. The black editor could barely gasp out her
incoherent protests when Bert huskily whispered, "I can take you in
the rear. Bend over and let me get those fancy pants off you!"
  Alana was beyond being able to control her body's needs and
desires. She allowed Bert to slowly strip her in the darkroom. All
the time he was fumbling with the zippers and snaps, he kissed her
trim, slightly rounded belly. When his tongue found the deep
depression of her navel, he slowly, languorously lapped and licked
around it, leaving a trail of saliva that could have glistened had
their activities been spotlighted.
  Alana lifted her left foot, then her right, and slipped free of
her clothing to stand totally naked in front of Bert. His hands and
tongue knew she was unclothed; he wanted to see her in full naked,
gleaming blackd glory. He reached up and turned on the safelight
with a #10 Kodak filter in it. The room was immediately cast in the
dim yellow-orange light, and Bert could see Alana for the first
time.
  Really see her for the first time. The pale orange light
highlighted her black skin and made her appear even more exotic to
him. The very tips of her jugs were firm, hard, erect and
protruding in obvious lust. Bert silently thrilled knowing it was
lust for him that had brought the sexy black girl to this agitated
state. Her smooth flanks dully reflected the light and the saliva
trail he had left across her belly took on an almost phosphorescent
quality.
  "Okay, honky studman, now you get those pants of yours off!"
Alana's facile hands soon stripped Bert of his trousers, and they
both stood naked and revealed in the odd light cast by the filtered
incandescent bulb.
  Bert looked down and saw his swollen manhood jerking and
twitching in reaction to the foreplay he and Alana had been avidly
engaged in. Instead of a flesh-pink with red overtones, his cock
looked like an orange popsicle. When he mentioned this to Alana,
she laughed a throaty laugh and immediately descended.
  "Ummmm, I love orange popsicles!" Her mouth was soon stuffed with
Bert's cock which she sampled with loud, lewd slurping noises. Bert
felt Alana's saliva trickle down his length and mingle with the
hair of the little sac suspended under his prodigious cock. The
sac, containing his precious balls, slowly contracted and collapsed
into a tight, hard sphere as Alana gently massaged and toyed with
it. The entire time, her mouth slowly accepted and rejected Bert's
steely rod.
  Her mouth puckered into a tiny "O" form and started at the
purple-orange head of his cock, and she sucked her way down. Bert
felt as if she were drawing his entire gut through the end of his
prick. In reality, she was agonizingly, excruciatingly sucking his
length into her mouth, her tongue swirling and spiraling around
laving every square millimeter of manmeat she found. Soon, he felt
her lips brush against his pubic hair. She had swallowed his entire
sex-spire.
  When she began to retreat, her teeth lightly scored his captive
organ, and her tongue pushed hard against his tiny pinprick hole at
the end of his rod. To counter this, she sucked for all she was
worth.  His hands roamed through the forest of wiry Afro, guiding
her head as she gave head.
  Bert groaned, "Stop! Stop, Alana!"
  Puzzled, the black girl looked up. Bert rapidly explained, "I'm
going to lose it in a minute if you keep it up!  You are too damn
good! And I want to be in you when I blow off. So get that pert
black rear end of yours up here!"
  He pulled her to her feet and gave a swat to the firm ass that
passed near his hands. He quickly bent Alana over the counter so
that her rump would be enticingly presented for his entry. He
briefly, hesitated, dipped his finger into her flowing cunt, then
traced his way back into the hot, humid crease between her
demiglobes of flesh. His lubricated finger rapidly goaded the
tight, stingy anal muscle to relax, and he wiggled his finger
inside Alana a time or two, enjoying the way she twitched and
squealed.
  The feeling of power was heightened when he spread her legs and
moved into position behind her. The glans of his long prod touched
the prepared asshole, then plunged in with ferocious speed. Alana
screamed in agony as she was filled with a huge iron bar of solid
manmeat.
  Bert felt as if he had thrust his tool into a blast furnace. For
a few minutes, he couldn't move; he just stood there, his hands
spreading her ass cheeks and his cock buried balls deep up Alana's
rectum. He was in the tightest fitting channel he could ever have
imagined, tight and searing hot. He realized he should have
gradually entered the girl's rear door, but it was too late now. He
was already inside!
  Alana felt the tortured inner membranes slowly stretch and expand
to accomodate the huge male invader. As soon as the rectal channel
had resigned itself to the added masculine visitor in the hot,
velvet depths, it began to relax. Alana sighed with relief and
began to enjoy the fullness of Bert in her. She could sense the
slow pulsing of his cock as it jerked and danced in cadence with
his heartbeat. She even imagined her sensitive inner tissues could
detect the giant vein on top of his cock.
  Bert gazed down at the girl's back sprawled on the table top in
front of him. His hands abandoned their posts, no longer needed,
and began exploring her smooth, silky back. She sighed and moaned
constantly as he traced out each and every vertebra in her spine.
Leaning forward, he began massaging her tensed shoulder muscles. He
lovingly said, "Relax, the best is yet to come!"
  His words, as well as his powerful hands soothing her back and
shoulder muscles, had the desired effect. He could almost feel the
tenseness flow, like water through a seive, from his beautiful
editor.
  As soon as Bert felt the shuddery little moans, he slowly pulled
out of her anal canal. Slow, rhythmic pistoning pushed him in and
out, and he felt the girl tense again as he slipped and slid to and
fro in her body. But this time, it was a different tenseness. The
first had been muscular due to fright, fear of the unknown.
  This was a muscular tension, also, but far finer. This was
generated by building sexual desires, needs, the powerful urge to
have Bert wildly fuck her ass. Bert felt the stirrings in his loins
as gentle feather-light touches, almost tickling. As the frequency
and depth of penetration up Alana's carbon black posterior
increased, the sensation began to resemble an itch that could not
be scratched, an urgent need that was doomed to be unfilfilled.
  Faster and faster, he pistoned into her hot, compressed anus and
the feeling in him grew to larger and larger proportions resembling
that of having his genitals baked in a high temperature oven.  Soon
he began to lose all conscious control of his body. His hips began
to thrust wildly all by themselves, his brain was short circuited
by runaway passion and lust for his lovely, willing black partner
in this assfucking.
  Bert abandoned himself totally to the prickly feeling in his
groin. The flames of lust leaped and lapped up and down the length
of his tool until his belly caught fire. The liquid, surging napalm
of lust, exploded in his body and burned throughout his universe.
It spread in an ever widening circle, centered in his balls, until
finally his entire torso was engulfed. His brain was clouded and,
as orgasm smashed through his mind he jetted tons of his fiery jism
up Alana's ass.
  Bert rocked and bucked and wantonly ground his crotch against the
needy black rear. When Alana felt Bert climax, he was buried full
length in her. She had been passionately moaning and biting her
lower lip to keep from screaming out her desires for him.
  As orgasm seized her body and blanketed out the world ex- cept
for the flaming lance buried in her butt, she abandon- ed all
attempt to restrain her cries. She screamed loud and long and felt
the surging flood of orgasm crash through her body and impact in
her head. A brillant fireworks display ignited in her brain, and
she was completely lost int the vastness of her climaxing body.
  The winds of orgasm soon blew away, and the two were exhausted,
satiated. Bert collapsed forward onto Alana and in a few minutes
felt his cock deflate like a gush of his creamy come.
  Alana gasped out, "You are a real stud, Bert! I've never had it
up the ass before, but it was soooo good!" Her voice trailed off
dreamily.
 "I have a confession to make, Alana. I've never fucked  anyone in
the ass before." He sounded almost contrite, apologizing.
  "Hell, man, you can fuck my ass amy time you want! Now will you
kindly get off me? In case you'd forgotten, we're supposed to be
working."
  "Working? Working? That what we are supposed to be doing? I guess
I forgot when this black chick came in and wiggled her gorgeous ass
at me."
  Alana chuckled as she said, "You honkies always did go for a
piece of ass!"
  "Shut up, bitch, or I just might take the whole thing instead of
a piece!"
  "Promises, promises, promises!" she retorted.
  Bert had always wanted to be an explorer searching out
undiscovered lands. That night, with Alana, he discovered new
vistas - and ones which were very close to home.

                     Chapter 3

  Bert talked with Cruncher for a few minutes after school, then
left his friend to speak to Alana when he spied the sexy black girl
coming out of the building.
  Alana spoke first, "Well, if it isn't the honkey stud with the
orange popsicle. How are you, Bert?"
  Bert smiled. Only week ago, if anyone had said something like
that to him, he would have been mortified, humiliated, and tongue
tied. No longer.
  "Still hot and hard for black ass. But what I wanted to  know was
the schedule on the paper. Did we get everything in on time...to
the printer?"
  Alana sighed, her shapely shoulders sagging the most minute
fraction in dissappointment under her yellow crushed velvet jacket.
"I was hoping you wanted to know something else...in the Biblical
sense." Bert flashed a toothy smile, and Alana continued, "To
answer the question, everything got to the printer before the
deadline. The edition should be out tomorrow with your photo layout
in it."
  Bert casually leaned against the building, then said, "Photo
layouts are fun to do. Maybe we can get together for a lay...out
sometime soon."
  "Love it!" the black editor exclaimed. "But I've got to run now.
I'll talk with you later about that...special assignment."
  "My editor's wish is my command!"
  Alana brushed Bert's arm with hers and a black hand lightly
touched his crotch as she passed him on the steps. In a flash she
was gone, leaving only a warm feeling in Bert's loins. That feeling
began to grow exponentially, and soon Bert felt as if he'd blow his
cool in public simply  from the fantasies he was building in his
brain.
  He decided that his hard-on was too good to waste. He'd go to
Carole's and see what could be done about relieving the insistent
bodily urges that were becoming more and more important to him.
  Bert sauntered to the van der Hoff household, taking his time and
deeply breathing in the fresh, crisp autumn air. Thoughts of
photographic compositions raced through his mind; the thoughts were
not on photographing scenic outlooks or falling leaves. Not unless
the scenic outlooks or the pile of leaves had a naked and
completely willing blond Carole van der Hoff spreading her legs in
wanton invitation to his throbbing cock.
  As he approached th house, Bert saw Carole racing out to get into
the snazzy sportscar driven by Tony diMaria. Bert wasn't very good
with cars or in identifying them, but he thought the school's
student body president was driving an Italian car, possible an
Alfa. Whatever it was, the car was red and small and flashy, just
the type of thing the lovely blonde who inhabited Bert's wet dreams
would really groove on.
  Bert's imprisoned cylinder of lust pressed firmly against his
trousers. It was lucky for the boy that the zipper release was on
the outside. His neddful, lusting cock might have been able to
slide the zipper down and free itself if the means had existed.
  The young photgrapher considered the dilemma. It would do not
good to see Carole. She had just left with her current paramour.
But Robin van der Hoff was something else.
  Was she ever something else!
  Carole didn't want anything to do with him - for the moment - and
he desperately needed a tight sheath of warm female flesh around
his hard, edacious organ. Robin had  been more than willing once,
she could supply the source of his gratification again.  And this
time, he would be the one to take the initiative.
  The Alfa roared along the street, the top down. Bert  watched
Carole's long, flowing locks flutter in the breeze, a golden
pennant and tribute to her femininity. He sighed, then turned his
attentions toward the front door of the house.
  A moment hesitation struck him, then he plunged ahead. Damn the
torpedoes, full speed ahead! And would he ever torpedo Robin's ship
in its snug harbor this time!
  Bert rang the doorbell and waited. When no one came to answer he
rang again and, simultaneously, Robin answered.
  She looked moemtarily surprised to see him but covered it well.
"Hello, Bert. What can I do for you?"
  The youth with a raging hard-on had to bite his tongue to keep
from answering that like he wanted. He decided to play it cool.
  "I came to see if Carole was around.  Could I speak with her?"
  A look of relief crossed Robin's fine features. "I'm  sorry,
Bert, but she's gone out, and I don't know when she will be back.
Possibly not for several hours."
  Bert glided in past the woman as he was saying, "That's all
right. I'll wait." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "I'm sure
we can think of something to do while I'm waiting."
  Robin was startled as Bert walked into the living room, and
seated himself. Her hands shook slightly, and the young
photographer noted that she was not the completely austere, haughty
woman she pretended to be. He had somehow managed to breech her
barriers of reserve.
  He was planning on breeching other, more delightful barriers
before he left the house.
  "Uh, look, Bert, I think I'd better have a talk with you about
this."
  "Certainly, Robin, dearest. Come sit here beside me." He patted
the spot next to him on the loveseat. Robin was  growing more and
more uncomfortable. Bert inwardly relished the feeling of power he
was wielding over the woman. For so long, he felt as she must be
feeling now. Uncertainly,  hesitant, even a little fearful.
  "Bert," she started to say, going to a chair on the far side of
the room.
  "Robin." His voice was flat, commanding. "Sit here." Again he
indicated the cushioned seat next to him.
  Robin swallowed, then came and sat next to Bert. Her body shook
slightly and, from Bert's point of view, delightfully. The
patterned blouse housing her twin peaks of wonderous, snowy white
titflesh could not conceal the sensous swaying. Her chest heaved in
reaction to the sudden stab of fear that she had lost control of
the boy she had made into a man.
  Bert's eyes burned with feverish intensity. And it was the
unmistakable fire of unquenchable desire that flared.
  "Bert, that time...it...it wasn't what you think. My husband is
gone so much of the time and I get...I get..."
  Robin seemed at a loss for words. Bert had no trouble supplying
them for her.
  "Horny? You get horny, isn't that it?" His brown eyes worked
upwards from the dual mounds that were her sheathed breasts until
he locked his eyes on her radioactive cobalt-blue ones. Robin's
hair had become a trifle disarrayed, and a strand of the fine
golden hair fell across her forehead and partially hindered her
view.
  Bert reached out and gently moved the wayward strand of silky
hair back into its proper place. Robin flinched involuntarily. She
had no desire to continue the one time  fling she's had with the
boy.
  "Please try to understand me, Bert. Please," she begged. "You're
a nice boy, but you're just a boy. You're young enough to be my son
for God's sake!"
  "Does that really matter, Robin? I'm not too good at remembering
things, but I saw this in my World Lit. book the other day, 'Age is
a tyrant who forbids at the penalty of life, all the pleasures of
youth'. Doesn't that seem appro- priate to you?"
  Robin shivered slightly and mumbled, "La Rouchefoucauld also said
'Few people know how to be old.' I think I should try to act my
age."
  "Bert's eyes continued to roam over her slim, girlish  figure.
The slender legs, encased in smoky nylon, protruded from under the
tight black shirt Robin wore. His eyes caressed the smooth flow of
her hips, the trim, round ass,  the delicate, almost fragile waist.
But he kept returning to the high hemline and tracing down the
length of her legs.
  Glorious, wonderous legs excited him immensely. Calves 
displaying muscle, yet not bulky or knotted muscle. Smooth, sleek,
and heartstoppingly long limbs.
  Bert loved the subtle fragrance of Robin's perfume; it drew him
as a pollen flower attracts the honey bee. He did not reply to her
protests. Instead, he slipped his hand behind her golden crowned
head and prevented her from escaping as he brought his lips to
hers.
  In spite of what Robin had said, she wanted him.  She wanted him
badly to relieve her own sexual tensions. The woman didn't want to
have an affair with a boy, but she saw it was useless to protest.
He was determined and, in a perverse way, she was glad. Robin could
let Bert take some of the initiative and, in some fashion she could
not easily determine, the boy was vastly more than he had been. No 
longer scared or unsure, he appealed to her on the most elemental
sexual level possible.
  Robin wanted Bert's long, hardened prick shoved between her legs
and up her cunt. She wanted the satisfaction a woman received only
when a man fucked her.
  The coral tip of her tongue raced around her lips a split second
before Bert's melted against hers. It was a silent invitation. A
tacit acknowledgement that she was saying one thing while her body,
her very core of being, screamed out another.
  Bert's kiss was not very adroit. He had much to learn about
properly kissing a woman. But Robin was just the person to show
him. As she warmed to the feel of his lips against hers, the woman
began to return the kiss with ferver and ill-suppressed desire.
  The youthful photographer felt the difference instantly. He
hadn't missed the tiny circuit of the lips Robin made before he
kissed her. Bert certainly couldn't miss the feel of her mouth
opening slightly, the increased pressure and the probing tongue
delving into his mouth. Although the  youth had been the one who
started the session, it was ob- viously turning into another
educational experience for Bert Ellis.
  He'd always wanted to get sex education out of the class room and
back onto the playground where it belonged!
  He continued holding Robin's head firmly pressed toward him as
she teased his tongue with her own dextrous oral digit. The taste
of her saliva was sweet, succulent and indescribably delicious. The
delicate, feather light touches of her tongue against his seemed to
ignite passions in Bert's  body that were barely controllable. Bert
felt himself growing harder, the head of his cock spreading like
the hood of a cobra preparing to strike. And, like a snake, he felt
the sinuous wiggling back and forth as his excitement grew.
  Robin reached down and pressed against the lump in her sex
partner's trousers. He would have gasped except that the woman's
tongue had completely entrapped his; he could say nothing, only
breathe harder and faster as she constricted her hand and grabbed
onto his balls.
  The teenager pulled her head back, breaking the mouth to mouth
tutoring with some reluctance. Bert managed to mumble, "Free
it...my cock feels like its going to burst open!"
   A tiny smile danced on Robin's lips. "It will, Bert, it will. I
promise."
  The rythmic squeezing of his crotch excited Robin as much as it
did the possessor of those proud, churning balls and quivering
dick. Robin descended again onto Bert's mouth, forcing his lips
apart with her darting, agile tongue. Inside his mouth once more,
she began to explore, an expert at spelunking in men's oral
caverns. This one was a real treat because Robin knew she might be
the first to ever explore the depths. The woman wasn't certain but,
for all of Bert's newfound confidence and take-commands airs, she 
guessed that he had not been on many dates and that girls were
still a wonderful mystery, if not a little bit frightening.
  If Robin could have read Bert's confused mind, her hunch would
have been confirmed. Bert was thinking that this had to be Heaven,
he must be dead and gone to his reward. Kissing Robin was nothing
like kissing Alana or Patty, his  first heartthrob in junior high.
This was something greater, a higher class, a quantum jump in
excellence and arousability. The kiss was electric, dynamite, but
it was nothing to the sprouting manhood building into a towering
spire at his groin.
  His cock was unbearably bloated with desire to be buried again in
Robin's clutching, tight, hot cunt. He wanted nothing more than to
feel the warmth of her love tunnel around his length grasping at
his rod like she had done before.
  But Robin had other plans. The woman wanted to initiate Bert into
as many of the intriacies and delights of sex as she could; she
felt like a schoolgirl again, leading a  stumbling student along
the path to satiation.
  Her hand stopped gripping at Bert's jeans. Thumb and forefinger
carefully reached out and took the zipper in a firm hold. Slowly,
with a teasing, torturous slowness, she dragged the piece of metal
down its track. Bert's eyes were  glued on the spectacle. The
slender fingers tipped with fuschia-tinted nails opened the front
of his trousers. He began to feel even more excited just thinking
of what was to come...him!
  Those agile, groping fingers dived inside the opening  that had
been created and fumbled until his fleshy rod pulsed against them.
Again between thumb and index finger, Robin grasped the sweaty,
shaking tool and pulled it out into the cool air of the living
room.
  The sight of the purpled head quaking in lust - for her! - caused
her crotch to begin to water. Robin could barely restrain herself
from ripping off her clothing and cramming that turgid tool far up
inside her and reveling in the feel of a pulsing cock beating out
an erotic tempo in her cunt.
  Bert's hands, even shaking as they were, managed to free the
buttons running down the front of Robin's blouse. The garment hung
open, and he saw for the first time the black, lacy bra that did
little to hide her tits but supported the twin demiglobes of flesh
nicely. His hand strayed and gent- ly plied the smooth, warm
expanse of her flesh, wanting to completely free those enticing
mountains of tit from their lacy encumberance. Jugs were meant to
be felt, handled,  fondled, sucked, not trapped in some conical
contrivance originally manufactured by a demented Frenchman.
  Bert managed to insinuate his clumsy hand behind Robin as he
searched for the eyes and hooks of her bra strap. His inexperience
with such things betrayed him. Or it might have been his inability
to concentrate as Robin began stroking his cock from its hairy base
to the sensitive, twitching crown. her initial stokes were soft,
gentle and barely perceptible. As the woman squeezed down, gripping
Bert's length harder, the sensations smashing through his body
increased tenfold, a hundred-fold. Lances of pure, undiluted joy
seared his nerves like acid.
  But it was pleasurable torture Carole's mother was meting out to
him. He could have rocked back on the loveseat and  allowed her to
do nothing more than give him a handjob.
  Through his lust numbed brain came other messages, the maturing
voice of sexuality from a higher plane. Bert continued to strain
and eventually managed to free the diabolical fasteners of Robin's
black, frilly bra. As if spring loaded, the bra snapped around her,
hanging only by the twin straps over her shoulders. A little bit of
maneuvering on both their parts and Bert soon had gotten the woman
out of both her blouse and brassiere.
  The sight of Robin naked to the waist sent a jab of excitement
through Bert's psyche that caused him momentarily to lose the
sexual control he was learning. The two jugs bouncing and bobbing,
tracing out invisible figure eights in the air with the ruddy
nipples were almost too much for him to bear without ejaculating.
  The woman's breasts were tributes to her femininity. The first
time he had seen them, his mind had been dulled and  blurred with
the shock of what had been happening to him. This time, although
extremely excited and desirous of fucking this woman until she was
cross-eyed, Bert retained some small vestige of objectivity.
  The teenager studied the expanse of skin revealed to him. And it
was marvelous. The slight sag in Robin's tits was the only
indication that she was nearly forty years old. She kept herself in
superb physical shape. The idle thought drifted through Bert's mind
that fucking a couple times a day might do it, keep that mysterious
glow that seemed to flush a woman's complexion after a really good
fuck.
  The tits weren't monstrous, and for that Bert was glad. He had
decided that huge, tremendously floppy tits weren't for him. If he
had looked at the small tag on Robin's discarded bra, he would have
found the notation '36C'. She had moderate size tits, boobs large
enough to pop into a mouth watering for woman-flesh, but not
grotesquely large. Any- thing more than a mouthful - or handful -
was a waste of good material.
  As Robin stroked with increasing urgency along Bert's tumescent
lust staff he dropped to suckle at one of the inviting nipples
presented to him. The fiery red nubbin of flesh pointed at him,
seemed to accuse of dereliction of duty. The youth did not want to
be guilty of failing to respond where he was desperately needed.
His lips touched the slightly bumby plain around the erectile
tissue, and then he compressed his lips until he managed to trap
only the nipple between them. Bert's tongue flashed forward, racing
full force into the tiny mound of pulsating flesh.
  Robin quivered, and he felt her breath quicken. His rough, wet
tongue laved the surface of the nipple repeatedly, each stroke
bringing forth an even more emphatic reaction from Robin. At one
point, Bert almost had to desert Robin's fantastic breast and
scream out his own passion. Her slender fingers had brutally
clamped down on his cock as if trying to milk him of his come. It
had been a reaction to the lust pounding through her body, and
involuntary sudden action.
  "Oh Bert, Bert... that's sooo niiice!" Robin moaned as the
teenager mouth her nipple anew.
  His tongue began to spiral around the nipple and engulf the
aureole. Bert decided that he liked the taste so much he would
continue until he had the entire tit firmly en- sconced in his oral
cavity. His twisting and licking motion took him around the conical
mountain of flesh and down the snowy slopes. As more and more of
Robin's breast entered his mouth, Bert found it increasingly hard
to use his ton- gue anywhere except across the nipple.
  Robin didn't mind. Hard manmeat in one hand and wet, superbly
gratifying mouth around a tit, she didn't mind at  all!
  She felt his teeth bite into the sides of her breasts as the
boy's jaws streched to take in more and more of her tit. The woman
thrust her chest forward inviting him to take all he could. It was
a carnal Garden of Eden for her. The sensations spearing into her
chest set off a delayed reaction depth charge inside her and caused
her cunt to itch and beg for occupancy. Male occupants. Long, hard,
throbbing, pow- erfully stroking male inhabitants.
  But she remembered her vow to introduce Bert to more  specialized
erotic techniques. Some oral sex satisfying her own needs.
  "Bert," she cooed, "Bert, darling, let me go for a second."
  His ears were benumbed with longing, but the youth did as she
bid. Robin still had him under her spell, she could  still dictate
to him. Not that he minded. She was the best teacher he'd ever had!
And he enjoyed the homework more  than he had ever thought
possible.
  Robin's question mouth dropped to Bert's crotch. Using  her hand,
she guided the purple hooded shaft protruding proudly from the
boy's groin into her mouth. She did not take the entire length at
first. Robin only lightly touched the sensitive glans with her
tongue, making small circuits around the periphery of his organ.
She tasted the slight secretion from the youth's seldom tried
penis. Man musk assailed her mostrils and excited her immensely.
Robin  licked out with frowning fervor at the trapped morsel nuz-
zling against her lips.
  She attempted to poke her tongue into the tiny pinprick hole at
the end of the rod and failed. But it didn't matter because the act
caused Bert to squirm and thrash with mounting ardor. When the
woman's tongue stroked and lightly caressed the underside of his
cock, Bert nearly lost his mind. Jolts of lightning blazed through
his head, shock waves of carnal intensity assaulted the fortress of
his brain and shook him to the very foundations of his being. His
body heaved, and again he had to restrain himself from coming.
  Sensing how near orgasm the boy was, Robin halted her o- ral
ministrations for a moment, electing to only stoke and feel the
jerking rod. As his passions abated slightly, her mouth engulfed
his shaft, and the woman began to take his entire length into her
awaiting oral cavity. As the youth had done with her tit, Robin now
returned the favor on his pole. Her dextrous organ of taste rotated
around and around licking and savoring every tiny portion of cock.
  The taste was wonderful and one of which Robin was in- cabable of
getting enough. She loved fucking. She loved sucking. And being the
one to introduce the teenager to the mysterious and fantastic
wonderland of sexual activity excited her beyond mere words.
  The shaft slid smoothly into her wet, salivating mouth. She bit
down, slightly, gently, so as not to harm the flesh under her
teeth. As Robin carefully gnawed on the resilient, blood-surfeited
flesh of Bert's cock, the youth broke out into a profuse sweat. He
gripped the cushion on the love- seat with ferocious intensity, his
fingers biting deeply into the soft fabric and stuffing material.
He was lost in a fairyland of bewildering reactions. Bert wasn't
sure he could sort out all the simultaneous sensations impinging on
his body and brain.
  He was furiously perspiring, but that was the result of his
arousal. And his sexual arousal was caused by...what?
  Was it the sight of Robin's naked tits and gently bounc- ing
body? The way her nipples rubbed against his legs? Was it his
mouthing of those scrumptious tits that had started it all? Or was
it her expert mouth gulping and erotically tormenting his manhood?
  Or was it all of those things plus his own fantasies come true?
  Bert couldn't have cared less. He slid back and allowed Robin to
do what she wanted with his body.
  Robin sensed the youth's burgeoning passion by the feel of his
cock. It now jerked and quivered with an accelerated pulse rate. It
expanded and grew in girth and length as more and more blood pumped
into it, making the cock a true man's sword fit for sheathing in
any woman's scabbard.
  But the fellatrix was going to deny this succulent hunk of meat
that privilege...this time. Even though the zipper was an
encumberance, both were too far gone down the road of love ferver
to bother with the metal contrivance. Robin's nose burrowed and
snuggled into the tangled mat of Bert's pubic hair as she swallowed
his seven inches. Holding it in her mouth, she raised her head
slightly, pressing the underside of his cock down hard against her
tongue, then retreated reluctantly. As Bert's tender flesh was
drawn across the slick, moist tongue, explosions wracked his body.
The de- liberate torture bent his stiff rod the slightest bit and 
added to his arousal in a magnitude he had not thought  possible
from his already hot body.
  Robin felt the teenager's prick slip across the roof of her
mouth. And a palatable dick it was, too. Tasty, a true gormet's
treat. She didn't know why her daughter didn't want to partake of
a feast like this, but Robin couldn't care. Let Carole play her
cock tease games. And Carole's mother would have all the fun - and
cocks.
  Her teeth slid to the backside of the expanded hood on the end of
the teenagers's love piston. Robin locked down the tiniest amount,
then pulled back, her teeth lightly scoring the delicate flesh.
Bert writhed and moaned in the mindless throes of passion. But
Robin admitted he was doing an admirable job in controlling
himself.
  If she had known that Bert was doing it for a greedy reason, it
would not have mattered. He knew the sucking and kissing and
licking along his cock was really turning Carole's mother on in a
big way, but it was for his own satisfaction that he kept from
jetting his load. The youth wanted this to last forever. He did not
want her eager, hungry mouth to ever leave his cock. The prickly
sensation that creeped down his cock and into his balls warmed his
body and stirred emotions he had been unaware of possessing.
  The first time he had been scared, awed. With Alana, they had
both been a bit too eager for proper foreplay, for ade- quate
arousal. This time, the first time anyone had sucked him off, was
going to be different. He was going to explore the sensations in
the greatest depth possible. The wetness of his cock as Robin
traveled his length was but one portion of the entire collage of
feelings.
  The teenager ran his fingers through the lustrous strands of her
platinum hair. Bert caressed and toyed with her  shell-like ears,
guided her head in the motion up and down his stalk. And, the musky
scent that so aroused him had to be emanating from Robin.
  The boy's fingers couldn't search for her crotch and find out for
certain, but if they could have, he would have found a veritable
rain forest of tangled pubic hair totally drenched in cunt juice.
Robin was gushing her internal lubricants out with torrential
force. The gale winds of sex blowing inside her hurled the liquids
out to dampen her nylon tricot bikini briefs and made her wish she
had on a  pair of crotchless panties.
  But then her lust-juices would have dribbled down her leg. It
didn't really matter, however. Bert knew she was hot. And Robin
knew Bert was straining to control his body. She en- joyed playing
with him, wished she could reach the hairy little compacted sac
containing his balls. A tweak or two  there would have brought the
rushing flood of his come to sear and whitewash her throat.
  As it was, Bert didn't need any expert fingering of his scrotum.
The rubbing of his balls across his rough jeans was doing an
adequate job of stimulation. He felt the juices inside him began to
boil and churn, his rocks rumbling in the stewpot of his groin. The
safety valve on his pressure cooker was being breeched against his
will; Robin's educated mouth had taught him still another lesson of
the flesh.
  Robin's cheeks went concave with the suction she applied to his
tube of joy, and he hunched his hips up thrusting his length back
into her mouth. Robin backed slightly away, forcing Bert's cock to
withdraw against the intense vacuum in her mouth. As if some Pied
Piper had begun playing on his organ pipe, the semen and sperm that
had been banging away at Bert's restraints erupted with seething,
demoniac fury. His come soared into the eagerly awaiting mouth of
the woman crouched in front of him.
  Robin swallowed the first spurt of come easily, the second almost
drowned her it came so quickly after the first onslaught. The third
and fourth filled her mouth and caused a trickle of the viscous
white jism to run down her chin.
  Bert's body was gripped in the velvet and iron of orgasm, and he
wandered through the funland of his body's intense reactions for
what seemed too short a time. He drifted back down from his sexual
high to the reality of the room, the woman in front of him, his
come whitely shining on her face.
  Bert watched in fascination as Robin's tongue slithered out and
expertly captured the runaway jism of his lust. The wet pink digit
hooked around the gooey strand and herded it back into her mouth
where she seemed to sample it like a wine connoisseur tasting a
fine vintage wine. A contented smile was on her lips, her eyelids
were half closed as she laid her down in Bert's lap.
  The teenager gently stroked her hair, smoothing it where he had
been lacing his fingers through the golden forest and disarraying
the strands.
  "Bert," Robin said, her voice low and husky, "I really shouldn't
have done that. I don't want to make love to you on a regular basis
and yet..." her voice choaked slightly.
  "And yet I'm weak. My body overcomes me, and I can't control
myself. I know you would rather be doing this with Carole than an
old woman, but I just can't help myself."
  Bert smiled a trifle. "You're not an old woman. You don't look
it, and you certainly don't make love like it. I can't even say I'd
be coming back here if it wasn't for you. Sure, I want Carole to go
out with me, but is she half the expert at lovemaking that you
are?"
  Robin gave a tiny snort. "Hardly, I don't understand her. But
that's not what I was intending to say to you, Bert."
  She lifted her head and gazed into his chocolate eyes. "I really
shouldn't lust after you, yet I do. I can't control myself. If you
could, it would be best for both of us."
  Bert's vision was firm and never wavered form those blue orbs
pleading with him. "I'm learning to control myself." The answer he
gave wasn't quite the exhortation Robin had just voiced. But she
didn't seem to notice the double meaning.
  Robin put her head back down into his lap, Bert's cock deflating
under her cheek as his sexual need for this ravishingly beautiful
woman rested - for the moment, he was content.

                   Chapter Four
 
  The algebra class was a boring as usual.  Bert didn't really
enjoy math all that much, though he had to admit to a certain
fascination in seeing the way numbers could be  fit together, taken
apart and reassembled to give answers to seemingly impossible
problems.
  His real enjoyment of the class came from the teacher. Miss Munoz
was easily the most sexy teacher he had. She was only twenty-three
or so, just out of college and still veneered with the enthusiasm
for teaching.
  Bert didn't care about the teaching part; math wasn't his bag.
But, he was growing more and more aware of the turn his daydreaming
took in class. He had started out the semester thinking of Miss
Munoz - he didn't even know her first name - making overtures to
him. Sexual overtures.
  He had heard the grapevine rumors that Miss Munoz and the physics
teacher had a thing going, but it was only a rumor. Bert couldn't
see how that could possibly be true.  Mr. Theodore was hardly a
handsome man, and he was probably ten years older than Miss Munoz.
Bert didn't know much about the physics teacher, but his friend,
Chuck Farley did and he said that Theodore was a bit on the dense
side.
  Bert's daydreams metamorphosized into him seducing the algebra
teacher. Why not? Hadn't he done just about everything now? Oral
sex and anal sex and plain old wonderful fucking. He was getting to
be a man about town and confident of himself for the very first
time in his life. Let Crucher go after the teeny-boopers...he was
a man and men go for women.
  There was no denying that Miss Munoz was a woman. None at all.
His lusting eyes studied her trim figure. She wasn't very tall,
perhaps only five-three or five-four, but she packed one hell of a
lot of sheer sexiness into that diminutive height. The youth did
some quick calculations in the margin of his notebook - not on
quadratic equations which were today's topic - but on estimates of
Miss Munoz's figure. Perhaps 35-25-35. Bert solemnly nodded. Those
looked like good figures to him.
  One damn good figure, to be sure. He scribbled a bit more and
came out with 89-56-89. Somehow, the metric equivalent in
centimeters didn't seem to convey the proper respect for such a
fine body. The numbers were too large, too gross for a fine-boned,
perfectly formed woman.
  Even though it wasn't all that hot in the classroom and school
board members frowned on it, Miss Munoz's blouse was unbuttoned not
the regulation top button, but the top three buttons were undone.
The shadowed valley between her tawny fleshed breasts was daringly
revealed - daringly for a teacher, at any rate.
  The skirt she wore was tight and seemed to be sprayed onto her
ass and upper legs. The bored math student became an avid one as
Miss Munoz moved from behind her desk and began to pace back and
forth in front of the class. Her thighs  were flashing out from
under her miniskirt and Bert was certain that her very appearance
was another school board prohibition. Teachers were required to be
staid, maidenly, even old maids with morals to match.
  This fiery latin beauty could have easily played the seductress
in any of a dozen spy movies the teenager had seen. A spy like Mata
Hari, seducing men and getting state secrets from them using her
body.
  If Miss Munoz had tried that on him, Bert would have revealed
anything she wanted to know!
  But that was his old fantasy. Bert's new one had him  boldly
walking up to the sexy teacher and asking for some private
tutoring, after school, at her house. Then, once there, the
pretense of learning algebra could be discarded, and they could
begin to learn all about each other's bodies. The symmetry of his
teacher's body, the geometry of her curves, the trigonometry of her
pubic triangle, the linear algebra of his straight prong thrusting
into her wanton cunt, those were the kinds of maths he wanted to 
learn firsthand.
  Bert shook his head to clear away his illusions when he heard his
named called. Even her voice was low, husky, and incredibly sexy.
But cold panic clutched at his heart. What had she asked him?
  His attention riveted on her words instead of her body, he heard,
"Bert pay attention! I asked you what the dis- criminant of the
problem was."
  Bert glanced a the board and the answer popped instantly into his
mind.
  "Its twice the quantity you have labelled A."
  Twin black arches rose as Miss Munoz showed her surprise. "That's
right. I'm sorry I thought you were goofing-off, Bert. Now Carl,
what would the root of this equation be?"
  Bert went back to his daydreaming. It had shocked him as much as
Miss Munoz that he'd gotten the answer right. Maybe keeping his
mind on sex sharpened his wits, improved his intellect. With a
sudden resolve, he knew what he was going to do after class.
  The rest of the period flowed by as sluggishly as molas- ses
racing uphill on a winter day. The instant the bell rang signalling
the end of class, the room evaculated with a speed that would have
astonished most track coaches.
  Bert lingered until one or two other students questioned Miss
Munoz and then left to go to their next class. He stood, gathered
his books and courage, and went up to his lovely algebra teacher.
She tossed her coal black mane of hair back and stared at him with
warm, appealing eyes.
  "Bert...I must admit I'm a bit surprised to see you come up like
this. You've never done it before, and students usually fall into
habits early in the semester.!
  Bert placed his books on the edge of the desk before say- ing, "I
felt as if I didn't really understand today's material, Miss
Munoz."
  She lookded at him and leaned back in her chair. The action moved
her shoulder back and revealed more of the  smooth, coppery skin
between her ample breasts. She knew his eyes were irresistably
drawn to the deep valley with its fleeting shadows but she didn't
mind. Quite the contrary, she enjoyed his obvious attentions.
  "You've been doing passing work. And you surprised me to- day. I
thought you were daydreaming and not paying attention."
  "Well, Miss Munoz," Bert started, "I really was doing  both. I
was paying attention but not to the lesson." His eyes locked on
hers and rapid, silent communication passed between the pair.
  "And what were you paying attention to, Bert?" She  smoothed out
her miniskirt before crossing her legs, giving Bert merest hint of
the delights that lay hidden under the skirt.
  "I've been afraid I wasn't pleasing you enough. I'd really like
a chance to show you I can...do more than I have been doing in
class."
  A smile danced on the teacher's lips as she said, "I'm certain
you are capable of doing doing more, even in math." She added
seemingly as an afterthought.
  "I'd love the opportunity for some private tutoring, Miss Munoz. 
I know it would hard."
  "What will be hard, Bert?"
  "Why, the tutoring. I'm sure you're not one for a quick lesson. 
It would be long and hard."
  "You interest me, Bert. Not many students would care for added
responsibilities like this. Here's my address. Why don't you stop
by after school today, and we can start on a lesson? A long and
hard one, but I think everything will fall into place before it's
over."
  She handed him her address, and Bert smiled. "Thanks, Miss Munoz.
I'm sure we will both get great satisfaction from this. See you
around four?"
  A wave of coal black hair drifted down over her left eye as she
nodded assent. Bert broadly grinned, then left the classroom. He
was exuberant. This had worked out better than the youth could have
ever hoped.
  The day seemed filled with inconsequential events, all robbing
Bert of his proper anticipatory mood. A brief interlude with Alana
made the day a bit cherrier. Then school was over for the day. He
raced home, ditched his books, then split.
  All the way to Miss Munoz's apartment, he wondered what it would
be like. She was really a sexy chick, not all that much older than
he was - only six or seven years. Almost an older sister. But she
had to be really experienced sexually. She'd gone to college and
all and, if the grapevine was right, she had been more intent of
having a good time than book learning. Bert was inclined to
discount that due to the sources. They just might be jealous of the
muliebritous woman, the only teacher in the school who wasn't over
thir- ty and going on ugly.
  The teenager stopped short when he saw the apartment complex in
which Miss Munoz lived. It very definitly was not a staid,
school-teacher residence. It was one of the swinging single places
where anything could happen and did.
  Bert Ellis knew then that he might have struck a real goldmine.
And all because he had merely gotten up the courage to ask. He
filed that away for future reference...ask and thou shalt receive.
  He wandered through the bewildering maze of apartments, ogling
the chicks out by the heated pool. The chill autumn air didn't seem
to prevent them from wearing the skimpiest string bikinis he'd ever
seen. Some were so small they were little more than strings with
postage stamps glued on at appropriate spots.
  Bert found the apartment he wanted, rang the bell and waited. In
less than a minute, Miss Munoz opened the door. She smiled, a smile
that reflected a trace of irony as she said, "You continually
surprise me, Bert. I would have bet you would chicken out at the
last minute. Come on in."
  She quickly stood back and let him in. He surveyed the apartment
and found it to be tastefully decorated. But the thing he noticed
first was the sweet, aromatic odor that clung in the air. Bert
recognized the pungent smell of  grass. Miss Munoz seemed to be the
exception rather than the rule amoung school teachers. Or was she?
  "Why? Did you think I wouldn't come? To see you?" Bert  was fully
aware of the double meanings he placed in the conversation. It was
turning him on verbally sparring with his lovely teacher.
  "High schools are notorius for producing boys, not men. And it
takes a certain rare courage to confront me as you did, proposition
me and then actually show up with intentions of seducing me. You do
plan to seduce me, don't you?" Again the smile played across her
lips.
  Bert sat down on the sofa. He said, "I think you have the entire
thing wrong, Miss Munoz. I'm not seducing you, you are seducing me.
Who would believe a pimply faced sixteen year old would proposition
his math teacher, then go to her apartment with the intention of
fucking her?"
  "And what have I done to seduce you?" Curiosity had replaced the
slightly ironic tone in her voice.
  "Why Miss Munoz," Bert replied, his voice as ingenuous and naive
as he could make it sound, "Simply by being so gut wrenchingly
lovely. Every time I look at you, I feel myself getting harder and
harder. Barely able to restrain through class, wanting to jerk off
because you are so seductive."
  The teacher laughed heartily, "That is one of the most unique
lines I've heard in years. And one of the most flattering, I might
add. Call me Julia. That Miss Munoz jazz is all right for class but
not for...private tutoring. Would you like a drink?"
  Bert hesitated. His experience with liquor was mostly restricted
to beer that the other guys managed to pilfer. But what the hell?
Why not take her up on her offer?"
  "Seven Up, please...with some vodka added. Maybe a lime?"
  "You are a source of continual wonderment." She went to the small
bar and began fixing the drinks. In a quieter voice, she said, "I
just hope you continue to surprise me with your performance."
  She thrust out the drink, then sat beside him, pressed close to
the boy's side. Julia Munoz was obviously still taking this to be
a game. Bert was becoming more determined than ever to make sure it
was a game whose final score she did not forget for a long time.
  Bert took a long sip from his drink, peering at Julia over the
top of the glass while he swallowed the liquor. The taste was not
as strong as he had anticipated. But he knew better than to
chugalug the entire glass; he had seen what happened to his friends
who thought they could handle their liquor simply because it took
twenty minutes or so for the effects to catch up with them.
  He put his glass down on the coffee table and turned his
attentions to back to Julia. She had already placed her glass on
the end table and turned back to face him. Bert noticed that Julia
had unbuttoned enough buttons on her blouse to allow him an
unobstructed view of her chest all the way to her naval. He noticed
that she wore a bra, and he silently cursed. The youth remembered
the problems he had encountered unfastening Robin's. The damned
manufacturers seemed to have something against quick disengage
bras.
  Why Miss Munoz...Julia...aren't you going to start the lesson?"
  "Certainly, Bert. I think the Pythagorean Theorem would be a nice
place to start, but I need some props to demonstrate." Her hand
roved down to his jeans and unfastened his belt and zipper with
quick, agile actions.
  His own hands were not still. "Since the classroom is so hot, let
me take care of that for you." He stood and faced Julia to allow
her better access to the snaps on his jeans, and Bert began undoing
the remaining buttons on his teachers blouse. He slipped it over
her shoulders and at the same time she managed to free him from his
pants.
  Bert was learning the intricacies of women's clothing. Julia's
bra landed on top of his shorts a bare second after his shorts
landed on the floor. Her tawny skin reflected up to him, and he
involuntarily caught his breath. Julia Munoz was even prettier
undressed than she was clothed.
  Her breasts were youthful and firm with slightly upturned
nipples. The tiny mushrooms of flesh cresting each tit  pointed up
in wanton invitation at him. The brown of her  skin occluded the
ruddy plain of her aureole, but the nipple took on the aroused red
he had come to associate with arousal in his sex partners. Bert
hadn't been able to check out Alana in the safelight illuminated
darkroom, but Robin's nipples always seemed to glow and radiate
with an inner heat of their own.
  So did Julia's.
  He stripped off his shirt, kicked off his shoes and socks and
stood naked before his half-naked teacher. She nuzzled her face
into his crotch. To aid her, he knelt, placing a knee on either
side of her body, as she leaned back on the couch. Julia began to
kiss and lick his still limp penis. The slumbering giant began to
stiffen, grow larger and more manly under the juicy oral
attentions.
  In a matter of minutes, Bert's hard-on jerked out at a thirty
degree angle from his stomach.
  Julia said, in a professional voice, "The Pythagorean Theorem
states that the angle of the dangle is equal to the square of the
heat of the meat added to..."
  He cut her off by finishing"...the secant?"
  She stared up, mind fogged with thougts of sex.  "Secant? Oh, see
cunt..." Julia reached down and unbuttoned her short skirt and
kicked free from it. Panty hose and incredibly brief panties
followed.
  Bert remained on his knees straddling his now mother-naked
teacher. His view of her cunt was nice. And the boy couldn't help
but see that it was sluggishly flowing out its lust for him on the
sofa. A finger descended experimentally and glided along Julia's
sex slash. Wettened, Bert thrust the finger up into the woman's
cunt.
  She wiggled and moaned, "Oh, more, do it some mooore, Bert!"
  He added another finger and continued to stir her bubbling
cauldron of carnality.
  Julia reached out, grabbed two handfuls of his ass and pulled his
crotch close to her mouth. In doing this, Bert couldn't keep his
fingers surging into and around inside her cunt.
  He moved his hands to her upjutting tits. With powerful squeezing
motions, he compressed the already firm flesh and elicited a long,
heartfelt moan of sheer pleasure from his teacher's lips. She
abandoned all attempts at shoving his prick into her mouth. Julia
was too intent on the incredible feelings surging into her chest
from where Bert manipulated her tits.
  Bert used his twin handholds to pull Julia forward. His hairy
thighs conveniently placed, he massaged the nipples by dragging
them up and down along the top of his thighs. The feeling of skin
to skin friction coupled with the hair tickling and stimulating her
sensitive nubbins of flesh caused Julia to cry, "Fuck me, Bert, oh
please, my cunt needs you! FUCK MEEEEEE!"
  Bert relished the feel of power over his Latin beauty. As passion
flared across her features, Julia Munoz became even more beautiful.
She just may have been the most georgous creature he had ever seen,
aroused and arousing. his cock began to strain and throb with
increased vigor, desperately needing to be encased in her tight
love tunnel.
  The erstwhile photographer slipped off the sofa and stood to
survey the scene. Julia reached up and grabbed his cock as if to
insure that he wouldn't run off. As if he wanted to!
  The only logical place he could see to take Julia was on the
coffee table. Bert quickly swept the litter of magazines and his
drink from the smooth glassy surface, then guided her over to the
table. His teacher went without a word of protest. She positioned
herself so that her ass was barely on the table. When julia opened
her legs, her gushing cunt was fully exposed to his granite hard
rod.
  Bert continued his attentions to Julia's fabulous tits. He began
to rotate them, acting as if he would tear them  from her body. One
he rotated in counter-clockwise direction, the other he moved
clockwise. Julia bucked and continuously groaned as the carnal
waves surged through her body, tormenting her and forcing pursed
lips to beg for more, ever more.
  "Get in me, Bert. Fuck me!"
  She had regained her grip on his prick. Using this, Julia pulled
him to her gated of desire. Feeling the blood warmed head of his
prick push against her libia triggered an orgasm in the passionate
woman. She was a hot one, to hot for some to handle.
  Bert could stick in there with the best of them and would! He did
not rush forward, blindly ramming his cock into her boiling hot
channel. He advanced a millimeter at a time, his entry gradual and
excruciating torture for the or gasm racked woman. As she drifted
down from her first or- gasm, Bert brushed his cock against her
clit and set off a- nother shuddery, shaking climax in her body.
  Only the head of Bert's cock rested inside the scalloped pink
inner lips of her cunt. But the head seared and chared him until he
was sure that he'd be possesser of a melted cock when this fiery
lovemaking was over and done.
  But it wasn't over and done yet. He wanted to make Julia come
again. He reveled in the feeling of power over the woman, how he
controlled her. And above all, the wonderous feelings in his own
body granted by sex made him want to prolong the session as long as
possible.
  He bent forward and kissed the slightly domed belly hea- ving up
and down on the coffee table. Julia's passions were running wild
now; she could not control her body at all. Her eyes were opened
but glazed with the intense lust that flooded her senses.
Incoherant moans and phrases gushed from her mouth and Bert knew
that Julia could be ignited again and again. Here was one chick
that could run through any number of orgasms and beg for more.
  Her legs seemed to bonelessly snake out and lock around his waist
in an attempt to pull him fully into her body. Bert resisted. He
would not be rushed. He was possessing her body at his own speed.
The teenager slid another inch up her twat and felt the luscious
liquids bathe his cock. He initiated a rotary motion in his hips
and began screwing into Julia's flaming interior.
  She shreaked as his pubic hair ground into her clitoris. Another
orgasm vaulted through her body.
  With the suddenness of a lightning bolt, Bert slammed  himself to
the hilt into Julia's steaming sex slash. He felt his groin impact
against the tender outer lips of Julia's sex, his rod buried full
length up the steaming, impossibly tight interior.
  If someone had alternatively branded his cock, then  plunged it
into ice water, the shocks reverberating down his length could not
have been greater.  Julia's manhole was tight, tighter than Alana's
ass. His teacher's stomach muscles contracted causing her vagina to
grip ever tighter on his prick. Feeling charred, compressed, and
totally a- roused, Bert screamed out his own passions.
  He quieted slightly and then began to concentrate. The tightness
in his balls grew and signalled that he was not far from an orgams
of his own. Bert felt greedy. He wanted more. Ever more of the
delictible school teacher. He wanted to fuck so hard she'd never
forget it.
  Bert wanted her to compare his lovemaking to every other that
followed. And he wanted her to rate him tops.
  His breath came in spasmodic pants, but he forced himself to take
longer, deeper draughts of air into his lungs. This quieted the
boy's pounding heart slightly, allowed him to concentrate on
pistoning in and out of the volcanic interior of this continually
erupting woman.
  Slender as her legs were, they restricted Bert's hip movements.
He needed more freedom. With more strength than Bert thought he
would have to expend, he managed to pry the lust-locked legs apart.
Unsure of what to do now, he dropped one so that Julia's petite
foot rested on the soft carpeting. The woman obviously thought Bert
had something in mind and aided him. She lifted her other leg and
draped it over his right shoulder.
  In this position, Bert found that he could thrust with  immense
power and penetrate deeper into Julia's belly than he'd thought
possible. She used the foot braced on the  floor for leverage and
thrust up to meet his mighty heaves into her body. As the youth
leaned forward, clutching the sides of the coffee table, he bent
her double, Julia's leg sticking up in the air over his shoulder.
  His teacher's cunt was opened even more fully to his increasingly
mindless probes. Bert's mind was fogging with lust, and he was
finding it harder and harder to do anything but surrender to the
primal urges driving through his body. He felt the sensitive tip of
his glans smash into Julia's cervix. She moaned and convulsively
tightened her muscles around her length.
  When Bert attempted to withdraw, it was against a powerful
suction. The lewd sucking noise as he slipped free seem to drive
the woman into a frenzy. Her wild bucking and  humping prompted him
to drive himself into her hole again and again.
  Her pussy attracted him the way a magnet seizes iron. Fast inside
her belly, Bert felt cock expanding, throbing and burning. A sudden
pulse like a jolt of electricity exploded and raced down his length
and detonated in his trapped balls.
  The jism he had been selfishly hoarding was not to be denied
release. The boy's whitewash blew out of his fleshy nozzle and
painted the inside of Julia's cunt. A multihued curtain was drawn
across his brain. His heart seemed to skip a beat so intent was his
body on orgamsic indulgence. Locked together at the gentials, the
student and his tea- cher soared and glided and dived through the
oceans of eternal passion.
  They both drowned and bathed in the liquid love that passed
between them, relished the feel that they momentarily shared, then
surfaced and stared at one another, the  lust slowly fading from
their brains.
  Julia's leg was still draped undecorously over Bert's shoulder.
He shrugged slightly and allowed the limb to drop to the floor. He
supported himself on his arms and gazed down into her limpid clear
eyes, then kissed her with unabated passion. He wiggled his hips a
bit and stirred his still rigid rod until it began to die, to turn
into a slumbering worm.
  Julia smiled, this smile was one of great satisfaction. "You're
a great student Bert, a really great one!"
  "And you're not so bad as a teacher either."

                        Chapter 5
 
  "And neither of you seem to have anything to complain about. Just
lil' ole me, I suppose."
  Bert's eyes snapped up to the doorway. In the open space,
doorknob in hand, stood a young woman staring at them. Bert
suddenly felt small, inadequate. But he repressed the idiotic urge
to cover his groin with his hands. Whoever she was, the spy in the
door had already seen a lot. A bit more wasn't going to change
things one way of the other.
  Bert glanced down at his once proud cock. It had collapsed and
slithered out of Julia's come-filled orifice. Her own slippery
juices as well as his creamy seed covered his penis and his
teacher's pussy. There was no hiding that from anyone.
  Besides an idiot could have told what they had been doing.
  Bert spoke, his voice almost casual. "Who, might I ask, are you?"
  "Oh, nobody, nobody at all. I just live here." The woman came
into the room, jerked her key from the lock, then closed the door
behind her.
  Bert studied her intently and decided he liked what he saw. He
may have been embarrased and bare-ass naked, but he managed to
retain some aplomb, rare in a boy only in his mid-teens.
  Bert was rapidly becoming quite sophisticated and able to handle
all sorts of peculiar situations.
  The woman dumped a load of books onto the table. That  meant she
was a student, but from the size and type of books, Bert guessed
she was a college student. She wasn't young enough to be a high
schooler. And would Julia actually room with a high school student?
The thought seemed preposterous.
  Her roommate was as stunning as Julia, in her own way. She was
moderately tall, about five foot seven and auburn hair that was
pulled back and held by a jeweled band. Blue- grey, intelligent
eyes seemed to laugh at some joke. Bert suspected that it might
have been directed at Julia being caught as much as anything else.
Supple, trim body, the smooth muscles of an athlete ruppling under
the expsoed skin. A real knockout, even in jeans and a baggy blouse
that fell staight down from the tops of her jugs. The boy suspected
a superlative figure lurked under the shapeless clothing; her
figure would have to match the rest of her or there was simply no
justice in the world.
  Julia spoke for the first time. "Bert, could you sort of let me
up?  As long as you are leaning on the table, you've got me pinned
here."
  Bert looked longingly back into those jet black eyes. "Do you
want to go anywhere? I don't! I sort of like it here." He couldn't
imagine a nicer location than between Julia's widespread legs, him
looking down at her body that would make a beauty queen turn green
with envy.
  "Bert." Julia voice held the slight snap of command, "Get up."
  The youth reluctantly did so. He slid back to sit cross- legged
on the soft rug as he watched Julia Munoz rise, grace in even such
as awkward maneuver. Anew, he drank in the beauty of her form, the
perfectly formed tits, the wasp waist, the flaring hips and
luscious legs. Her skin tone was a uniform tawny russet that made
him think that one of Cellini's famous bronzes had been endowed
with life.
  "Hi Barbara."
  "Hi Julia. Ummmm, giving one of your students a little
extracurricular activity?"
  Julia glared at Barbara, then said, "You might say that."
  Barbara tch-tch-tched. "And here you were the one bitching about
being forced into chaperoning student dances. Julia dear, I'm sure
the students, male ones at least, would love you to chaperone them.
It's obvious this one does."
  Barbara's blue-grey eyes studied Bert as if he were a bug under
a microscope. As she worked her way down his body and found his
groin, the clinical inspection became less and less objective and
more subjective. The boy could sense the lust mounting in Julia's
roommate as surely as the girl had openly voiced it.
  She wanted a crack at him too!
  The old Bert would have been panic sticken. But then, the old
Bert Ellis would never have gotten the ultimate fucking of his life
from one of the hottest chicks he'd ever seen. He decided to play
this for all it was worth, and he might end up getting Julia and
her roommate at the end of his prong.
  "Did I pass disection?"
  Barbara quickly corrected, "You mean inspection."
  "I meant what I said. You've been eyeing me like I'm a bug in a
box." Bert turned to Julia who had retrieved her drink and sat
naked and unconcerned on the sofa. "Doesn't she look like she wants
to cut me apart?"
  Julia took a sip from her glass, then said, "More likely, she
wants to eat you. Voracious bitch, that Barbara."
  Bert looked up at the coed, casually perched on the bar. A brief
instant of - lust? - flashed across her face, then she became
impassive, judical again. As if passing sentence, she declared, "I
doubt if you could really do much to satisfy me, little boy."
  Bert quaked inside. He was being put down. Inwardly he rebelled.
This wasn't going to get to him. He was not going to loose his
temper.  Bert would be the one to put her down, and make her beg
for more!
  "You're probably right. I doubt if I could satisfy you. Your cunt
is probably so enlarged, it would take a telephone pole to..."
  He had to refrain from laughing at Barbara's reaction. It was
precisely what he had expected. Barbara furiously exploded."
  "Goddamn! What do you know...? her voice trailed off as she heard
Julia quietly chuckling.
  Julia looked up at Barbara. "Roommate of mine, you're the one
who's supposed to be the psychology major. Who just lost that
round?"
  Barbara looked away and leaned back against the bar with her arms
defensively crossed. "You couldn't possibly satisfy me."
  Bert reclined of the floor hoping that the sight of his balls
would excite Barbara. "I don't really know what I could bet on
that. You've told me that I don't have anything you want..."
  "Barbara, I think he's scoring points against you again. And
you're wrong. Bert's one hell of a good lay. He's even better than
Teddy."
  Barbara snorted. "Teddy Bear may have a ten inch dong, but if you
ask me, he's a creep. I'll stick with Jeff. He's not as long, but
he's a lot better at balling than your freak."
  Bert said nothing. It finally surfaced why Julia hung around with
Mr. Theodore. The guy was a fucking monstrosity with a ten inch
cock. That explained why he always wore baggy trousers. If he had
them any tighter, he could be cutting off his circulation. The
brief thought tickled Bert's fancy. He could envision Mr.
Theodore's prick fall- ing off from lack of blood.
  Julia shrugged her bare shoulders. "I'll get tired of Teddy one
of these days. It might even be today." She gazed lovingly at Bert.
His heart raced at the thought that she got off more balling him
that a guy with a ten inch prod. The boy swelled with pride and
surprised himself when he saw his own prod beginning to swell
again. It hadn't been ten minutes and already he was getting hard
again!
  These two chicks were too sexy for him to remain flacid long.
  Barbara was the first to notice the rising spire of flesh. "He
doesn't have anything to be me, but how about you, Julia? A month's
rent on your schoolboy. If he can get me off, I'll pay all the rent
next month. If he doesn't, you  pay."
  Julia never hesitated. "It's a bet. But I'm not going to let you
hog him. I get his cock. You can jolly well feel his tongue rooting
around inside you!"
  Bert's cock flipped erect like the blade of an opening
switchblade. His teacher showed an incredible amount of faith in
him. And he'd never eaten a pussy out before!
  "Get those duds off, lady, and get your sweet ass over here!"
said Julia, putting her glass back on the table and dropping down
to the carpet beside Bert. "I think I'm going to really get off
this time. Just lie back and hang on, baby cuz we're going to take
you for the ride of your short life!"
  Julia straddled Bert's waist and reached down to grab burgeoning
cock. She guided his manhood to her cunt with cool, firm fingers.
Her fingers may have been cool, but the oozing slash of her sex
wasn't. Bert gasped when Julia shoved his tool into the blast
furnace of her interior.
  In spite of multiple orgasms, she was just as hot and tight as
she had been when they had started their initail lovemaking. Bert's
mind spun crazy and his vision momentarily blurred with the shock
of being plunged back into the woman's frothing cockpit. He vaguely
wondered if she was a nymphomaniac and could keep up this hectic
pace forever or if she was merely a really hot chick who just
didn't get very much.
  Looking through slowly focusing eyes at Julia's lush figure, her
georgeous face and incredibly seductive manner, he doubted if she
had any trouble getting all the cock she wanted. Unless she was
truly a nympho. Bert imagined himself a worn-out, smoking ruin by
the time he graduated high school.
  But what a way to go!
  As the math teacher attempted to force his cock into figure
eights using only her cuntal muscles, Barbara finished stripping
off her blouse and jeans. She advanced cautiously as if unsure of
herself.
  Bert had a full view of Julia's roommate. She had no  right to be
unsure of herself. If his cock hadn't been trapped inside the
churning, velvety passage to his math teacher's belly, he'd have
been advancing on her as fast as he could. She was a vision so
lovely that Bert wondered if he was hallucinating this entire
encounter.
  He had to argue with himself. He couldn't be hallucinating
because his mind had never been able to conjure up so enchanting a
vision, even in his most erotic wet dreams. Barbara's body wasn't
the perfection that was Julia's, but it came damn close.
  She had larger jugs. Bert fancied himself an expert on boobs now,
38D was his professional estimate. But Barbara had a shoulder
developement to carry the larger mammaries without appearing to be
overburdened with a lot of floppy flesh. Her waist was trim,
muscled and confirmed his earlier guess that she must be an
athlete. Possibly a swimmer with the long, smooth muscles in her
arms and legs.
  Her ass was tight and a round, compact demiglobe. No sagging flab
there. Twin pillars of leg spread slightly to betray the shadowy
region of her divine triangle, that fleecy mound just above the
Gates of Eden. Bert couldn't see Barbara's cuntal lips, but he
could imagine what they'd be like.
  Blushing pink, suffusing with blood at the thought of  having his
lips caressing them. Possessing a slight glitering sheen from the
growing secretions from the tiny Bartholin's glands buried just
inside the doorway to her body.
  Bert managed to choke out, "What's the matter, Barb? Afraid
you'll lose your bet? Get on over here!"
  The girl looked guilty. A quick glance at Julia, however, seemed
to convince her. Julia was ardently going up and down on Bert's
length, not quite letting the purpled arrowhead slide out of her
twat before dropping to his groin. She was methodically screwing
herself and was lost in a wonderland of lust.
  Barbara was increasingly aware of how much she wanted to share
that sexual El Dorado with her friend. With alacrity, she glided
across the floor and stood over Bert.
  He grinned lewdly at her. Staring straight up at her  spread
legs, he could see his earlier guess was right. The light
reflecting off those twin protals to her cunt were soggy with lust.
Bringing her off wouldn't be as hard as he first thought.
  Barbara suddenly crouched, cramming her pussy down onto Bert's
face. One instant he was sniffing the heady fragrance of lingering
dope in the air, the next he was inhaling huge gulps of the woman's
musk. The youth decided he preferred the latter. It was more
exciting.
  When Barbara descended, she faced Julia. Bert could dimly see
Barbara reach out and grasp each of Julia's nipples between a thumb
and forefinger. As her roommate began squeezing and rolling the
aroused mushrooms of flesh, Julia's mo-tion up and down on Bert's
dick became more frantic. He groaned as he felt the telltale
convulsive force of her vaginal walls clamp down on his length.
  Julia had had another orgasm. But that barely slowed her frenetic
pace. She poled up and down, and Bert thought he detected another,
lesser, orgasm flutter through her body.
  As exciting as the feel of her cunt around his prick was, the
teenager was faced - literally - with a new and diffenent
adventure. Barbara's turgid cuntal lips were within  easy reach of
his lips. He wetly kissed her. As he felt a tremblor quake through
the girl's body, he knew this was the right thing to do. He
continued to kiss and lick the blood-filled flaps until the salty
tang of her internal lubricants gushed out to deluge his face. The
elixir that greeted his tastebuds was totally different from any
other liquid Bert had ever tasted before.
  He decided he liked woman-wine. Immensely.
  The young photographer began to slurp up the tasty fluid with
increasing ardor. His tongue looped out and pulled in load after
load of Barbara's cunt juices. She began to shake and quiver in
reaction as Bert inadverently found her pleasure button.
  The boy wasn't sure what the meek little spike of flesh was, but
he decided, from the way it was hooded, and protected, it must be
important. Bert turned all his attentions to that miniscule chunk
of erectile tissue. His reward was the gasp of unadulterated
pleasure that escaped from Barbara's lips.
  Feeling such a resplendent response, Bert began licking and
sucking on Barbara's clit with renewed vigor. She wantonly ground
her hips in circular motions, crammed her gushing pussy forcefully
down into his face begging for more of the fine tonguing he was
granting her. Bert obliged. His organ of taste leaped out of his
mouth, started at the woman's sensitive perineum, then wiggled
forward across her oozing sex slit. She writhed and moaned in
un-fettered passion at the wet, rough feel of the boy's tongue on
her vaginal lips.
  Satisfied that she knew where he was, Bert's quick tongue darted
into Barbara's cunt for a sampling of the pooled juices lurking
just inside, then continued the journey forward to that mysterious
go-button that seemed to turn the girl into a wild woman. The youth
raked his teeth along the clitoral length, then quickly laved the
tortured organ with his saliva.
  He then sucked off all the lubricant and left the pillar of flesh
dry as a bone. To alleviate this sorry condition, Bert's tongue
slipped back to the coed's cunt, loaded up  with fresh cargo of
cunt juice, then painted the clitoris with the vicous fluid.
  Bert's vision was impaired, but he could see Julia jerk in
response to his tonguing. He was very pleased at the at the chain
reaction he had initiated. He lapped and sucked at Barbara's lust
button, she tweaked hard on Julia's nipples. His math teacher's
frenetic fucking would trigger still another orgasm in her ardent
body, and her cunt would jerk hard along his length. As he felt the
erotic pressure on his cock, his balls tightened even more, and he
gasped for air which required him to breath hotly on Barbara's
expised genitalia. That would trigge another round of 
passion-inciting adventures and inevitably push them all higher and
higher up the peak to orgasmic fulfullment.
  Bert knew that Julia was repeatedly getting off fucking herself
of his long dick. He didn't worry about her. He worried about
himself. He didn't want to come before Barbara. It was a simple
matter of pride. Julia was doing her damnedest to get her rocks
off, but the bet was vaguely remembered, buried at the back of his
mind.
  He had to get Barbara to come or Julia would lose.
  There could be no denying that Barbara was close to climax, but
his mouthings of her clitoris and excursions into her cunt were not
enough. There had to be something more he could do to titillate
her.
  At the thought of titillation, he knew that little extra touch
would be.
  Bert reached up and back, searching across Barbara's trim belly,
then moved his hands upward until he came to her solidly fleshed
tits. Hands groping blindly, he finally succeeded in finding the
rounded protuberances of her nipples. They were partially filled
with blood, slightly distended. That gave him the clue. He began to
tweak and knead the tiny buttons cresting her snowny tit mountains.
  Barbara was assailed in two different directions with carnal
feelings. Bert's tongue rammed icy stabs of delight into her belly.
Coupled with the sensation of a red hot tingling jabbing through
her breasts. As the teenager manipulated her nipples, she knew
she'd lost the bet. He had unerringly found her two most erogenous
zones and, when stimulated together, she could never prevent a
climax.
  Her body became rigid with lust and hurled up and down on the
see-saw created by Bert's agile hands and dextrous tongue. He would
spear deeply into her well-lubricated love tunnel, roll around and
frolic in that carnal playground, then retreat past the delicate
inner lips. As his oral member slipped out, his hands would clamp
down on Barbara's tits. Tweaking the senstive erectile tissue,
pushing in hard against the marshmallowy underpinnings for the tiny
mushroom buttons, rotating the firm mounds with deliberate,
powerful motions.
  As the pressure on her jugs lessenedm the boy's tongue would lash
out and duel with her clit. The coed was being driven mad with the
push-pull technique Bert employed to fully arouse her. She couldn't
escape, she couldn't concentrate on some other protion of her body.
  Barbara's lust-fogged brain soon decided that the bet was
rediculous. All she wanted was the cataclysmic orgasm she felt
building deep inside her lions.
  The earthshaking climax did not take long to pounce and devour
her entire luscious body. Barbara shivered and shook and seemed
possessed by some wonderfully erotic form of palsy. She did not
scream out her lust. Rather, she bit her lower lip, but Julia did
all the screaming for her. As  Barbara came and the physical rictus
locked her muscles, she clamped down powerfully and painfully on
her roommate's blood engorged nipples.
  When Barbara's body was seized by orgasm she detonated another in
Julia.
  Bert grimly held on and allowed the waves of sex to wash across
his body. It wasn't easy, but it luxuriously enjoyable. Barbara
came and dumped gallons of her inner oils onto the high school
student's face. He gleefully licked off the tasty treat and was
remorseful when the coed fell away from his face and collapsed
against the wall, sated and exhausted.
  She mumbled, "That was one hell of a tongue job, kid. You really
know how to eat pussy."
  With his mouth freed Bert started to tell Barbara to shut up but
lust started to grip him and he began to concentrate on his sexy
teacher.
  And Julia was going strong! Her body seemed as if it was made of
iron. But Bert would be the first to gainsay that allegation. She
was very much flesh and blood, vibrant and alive.
  True, her crenulated love tunnul walls seemed to be something
more than simple tissue when they cranked down hard on his tool,
but he wasn't complaining. It was the most erotically stimulating,
hottest and tightest hole he had ever rammed into.
  Julia's eyes were screwed shut as she bounced up and down on
Bert's length. She reached down and fingered her own clit to give
herself added stimulation in her fucking. Bert gulped at the
pressure on his shaft, then decided to go for broke. Julia would
keep this up all day or until she wore him out.
  Or wore his dick off!
  As she rocketed up squirting his cock from her body with
peristaltic action of her cuntal muscles, Bert lay quiescent. As
Julia began her plummeting descent, Bert heaved his hips upward,
arching his back. They smashed together at the gentials. Both
gasped in reaction to the powerful interaction.
  As Bert continued his upward thrusts, he tried to reach Julia's
tits but was unable to do so. The woman had leaned slighly
backwards removing her milky white breasts from his reach and
bending his cock away from its normal angle of response. Julia
placed her hands on the floor as she leaned back. Bert instintively
brought his knees up and planted his feet firmly on the floor. In
this position, Julia could rest against his upper thighs.
  With his cock bent to an angle of forty-five degrees from the
floor and still firmly inside Julia's cunt, Bert felt as if he were
being ripped asunder at the groin.
  Yet it was sweet torture. His teacher rubbed her back up and down
his legs, luxuriating in the hairy feel against her tingling spine
as well as the throbbing and jerking cock buried between her legs.
Julia came again, another in a seemingly endless string of orgasms.
  But this time, Bert couldn't restrain himself. The acute angle
his cock was pulled into, the feel of Julia's smooth back against
his legs, her twin demiglobes of companulate assflesh pressing
tightly into his crotch, the intense con- striction along his
length, the very humid hotness of his cock's berth all conspired
against the boy.
  He came. He came with the explosion of a thousand A-bombs. His
mind swirled and churned and was buried under tons of sensations as
his cock squirted and blew forth his load. Once expended, Bert's
triphammering heart took several minutes to quiet.
  Bert watched in fascination as Julia experienced two more orgasms
in quick succession. He had never seen a woman who could get off so
many times in such rapid fashion. The young man wondered if this
was normal or if his math teacher was some sort of sex freak. It
hardly mattered. Bert just wished that, if Julia Munoz was
something unusual, he could find others like her. It might wear him
out, but it was an exciting and incredibly sexy way to wear out his
organ!
  Julia finally came out of her sexual daze and looked down at
Bert, her jet eyes filled with warmth and ill-suppressed lust. She
said, "Thank you, Bert, I don't think you really needed all that
much tutoring."
  Barbara quickly chimed in, "He sure didn't! And I'm mad at you,
Julia! You pulled a ringer on me!"
  Julia slipped off Bert's hips and languorously stretched out on
the carpet like a contented feline. "What do you mean?"
  "Hell, he's no high school kid. He must be a ninety year old
Cassanova who's kept on looking like he's sixteen by screwing every
available chick from here to Paris and back."
  Bert chuckled. He loved listening to these gorgeous women saying
things like that about him. The teenager felt more and more like
the big time stud. In reply, he said, "I'm afraid I'll have to
disappoint you, Barbara." He paused a moment for empahsis, then
continued, "I'm missed one chick in London. It was in Chelsea back
in '03. She managed to elude me somewhere around Trafalgar and
I..."
  He was cut off when Barbara tossed a convient pillow off sofa
over his face.
  "Liar! But I don't care. When'll you be ready for a rematch?"
  Bert shifted the pillow to a more confortable position under his
head. When would he be ready again? He glanced furtively at his
depleted organ. He wasn't sure if it would ever be ready again, not
after the incredible fuckings Julia had demanded. And his nervous
energy reserves were used up, too. It wasn't easy watching a chick
get off a  dozen - or more? - times while your dick was coursing up
and down inside her. And eating another out at the same time...
  Bert answered, "Not for at least ten minutes or so..."
  He surprised both himself and the two roommates. It was closer to
thirty than ten, but it still surprised them all. Pleasantly.

                     Chapter 6 
         
  Bert and Cruncher were sitting in the cafeteria trying
vainly to digest the rotten fare that had been passed off
as food that day.  Cruncher had a way with words, could be
excruciatingly descriptive when the mood moved him. Looking
at the creamed corn puddled on his tray, he had grumbled
"Dog vomit" and pretty well killed anyone else's enjoyment
of the food, if there had been anyone else at the table
with an iron stomach who could have eaten and enjoyed such
a poor meal. When he had almost finished his meal, leaving
the creamed corn, Cruncher loudly proclaimed, "This is the
only goddamn place I know where they buy army-surplus can-
ned leftovers.
  Bert hadn't been able to eat much, a combination of lack
of appetite and no great desire to get sick on the food.
  He said, "Hey, Crunch, could we talk for a couple of min-
utes? In private?"
  "Sure, kid. Always glad to help you out."
  The giant shoved his chair back, and Bert trailed after
his letterjacket clad friend. They went outside and sat
down on the ridiculous fountain made from four thousand
beer cans and coat hangers that the previous year's senior
class had given the school.
  "What can I do for you?"
  "It's about Carole." Bert took a deep breath and contin-
ued before he lost his courage. "I'm still hung up on that
chick. I've found some really dynamite foxes, but it's
Carole that I want. It's an obsession. I just can't kick
it."
  Cruncher looked at his friend, edged away slightly as if
he were afraid Bert would do him bodily harm and said, "I
got a confession Bert. I told you all that about Carole be-
cause I was trying to get in her pants. You know? I didn't
want you cutting in on my territory." He looked repentant.
  Bert only looked stunned. "Cut in on your territory? Me?
The zero in the equation when it comes to girls?"
  Cruncher shook his head. "Zero, my ass! Alana keeps
dropping hints all over the place about what you two did in
the darkroom, and I'm not blind. You've got something BIG
going with Miss Munoz. No chick looks at a guy like she
looks at you without something heavy going on. With Alana
on the hook and Miss Munoz chasing after your tender 
young bod, why worry about Carole? Hell, take the best you
can get and forget about Miss Iceberg."
  "I'm not putting you on. This is the gospel truth. I did
everything I could think of, and I couldn't get to first
base with her. She's even dumped Tony. I don't know what
kind of trip she's on. Seems absolutely frigid. Won't put
out for anybody, makes the guys come begging to her. And
then she only picks the suckers with lots of bread or tons
of prestige."
  "And...?" Bert was curious to see what Cruncher's ap-
praisal of the girl was. He had noticed the same thing.
Carole would go after someone with lots of prestige or
money - or both - then drop them suddenly without any warn-
ing. And, although quite a few had bragged about actually
fucking her, there was a ring of bravado and maschismo to
the tales that didn't ring true.
  "To tell you the truth, Bert, she's a cock teaser. She
gets he jollies stringing a guy along, getting him hot and
primed, then pulls the rug from under him. She'll walk off,
leaving the sap with a hard-on and laughing at how easy it
was to humiliate him."
  Crunch shrugged his massive shoulders. "My advice, Bert.
Leave her alone. She didn't think a football jock was worth
her trouble - I doubt she'd ever consider a  high school
newspaper photographer would be worth the trouble. And even
if she did go out with you, it would be heartbreak hotel
time. You know what I mean?"
  Bert nodded. Carole van der Hoff did fit into the classic
pattern of a cock teaser and he had heard the rumors of
what she did to her dates but there was an elemental at-
traction.  Bert refused to give up on the frigid chick and
besides, he had plan.
  "Thanks, Crunch. I've still got the hots for her, though.
But I've an idea which'll maybe get me a date."
  Cruncher Hiatt smirked. "What ya gonna do, ball her old
lady?" He laughed uproariously at the idea. He laughed e-
ven harder when he heard Bert's reply.
  "That's not such a bad idea, Crunch. Not bad at all."
  Bert wasted no time after school. He hurried over to the
van der Hoff residence. He knew Carole wasn't there because
this was the night she stayed late at the school for cheer-
leader practice. Bert walked up the steps to the front door
and started to ring, then changed his mind. He tried the
doorknob and found it securely locked. On impulse, he went
around to the back yard and checked th sliding glass door.
  It was open. With the way clear, Bert crept into the
house. The record player was blaring out a Linda Ronstadt
album. Bert would have stayed to listen to the dulcet,
melodic tones of "Love Has No Pride" but he had bigger
things on his mind...and in his pants.
  The hissing of water from the bathroom indicated that 
Robin was busily taking a shower. Bert quickly checked
through the house, just on general principles. He didn't
want to get caught with this little act, not that it mat-
tered that much to him. To his future with Carole, yes, it
did matter, but otherwise, he had nothing to lose.
  He opened the bathroom door slightly and looked into the
steamy interior. The mirrors were fogged from the high
humidity in the small room. Perfect. He quickly discarded
his clothes and dumped them in the hall, then slipped
quietly through the door. The heat and water droplets sus-
pended in the air assailed the youth instantly. The subtle
fragrances of the shampoo Robin used took a few seconds to
insinuate themselves into his overloaded queue of sensory
inputs.

  He opened the bathroom door slightly and looked into the
steamy interior. The mirrors were fogged from the high
humidity in the small room. Perfect. He quickly discarded
his clothes and dumped them in the hall, then slipped
quietly through the door. The heat and water droplets sus-
pended in the air assailed the youth instantly. The subtle
fragrances of the shampoo Robin used took a few seconds to
insinuate themselves into his overloaded queue of sensory
inputs.
  The translucent shower door prevented Bert from a good,
clear view, but the partially obscurred view was far more
exciting. It left a lot to his imagination, and he let that
run rampant. The plastic in the door was a ripply sea green
duplicating the ocean waves thundering against the beach.
Bert could picture the scene; the color was perfect, the
sound of the water hissing inside the stall fitted
beautifully.
  But that wasn't the beautiful fit Bert truly desired. He
wanted the fit of Robin's man trap around his cock. The on-
ly way he could get that flashing figure wrapped around his
was to climb into the stall with her. Standing in the moist
atmosphere of the room and just looking wouldn't do it for
him.
  He yanked the door open and jumped inside before much of
the water jetting down from the nozzle could find its way
onto the floor outside the shower. Robin was looked glori-
ous naked and totally wet. She appeared to Bert as some
form of water nymph come alive from the dry, dusty mytholo-
gy books.
  "BERT!" she shrieked. "What are you...I mean...wha...?"
The woman was confused and tried to back away, an impossi-
bility in the narrow confines of the stall. With an ages
old reflex, she tried to cover her snatch with one hand,
her glistening boobs with the other.
  "Hi, Robin. Fancy meeting you here. I was just passing
by and thought I'd drop in."
  "Get the hell out of here!" The woman's initial shock was
replaced with fury.
  "Why? I thought you might like some company. Terribly
lonely in these tropical countries. No one speaks the
language, and all you have to eat are bananas."
  "Bert!" she snapped. "Get out of my shower."
  "Sure, Robin. Eventually." His hands had reached out and
grasped her around the waist. Slippery with soap, his
caresses became liquid and lightning fast. Bert applied
more pressure to offset the lack of friction. He liked the
feel of naked skin under his fingers, ever wet skin as long
as it was female.
  He edged closer and pressed his body to hers. Robin 
attempted to shove him away but rapidly discovered what the
boy already had. Wet skin is incredibly slippery. She suc-
ceeded in wrapping her arms about his body and nothing
else.
  Bert availed himself of two convient handholds. He reach-
ed behind Robin and grabbed her silky cheeks and inserted
his fingers deep in the crease of her buttocks.  Using this
leverage to his advantage, the youth pulled the older woman
to his body and kissed he deeply.
  Robin's protests died instantly. She felt the inch by
inch rise of his prick between her damp legs as his excite-
ment grew. Bert's tongue slipped between her lips and began
frolicking in her mouth, teasing and taunting her tongue,
playing hide and seek, drawing it out. Her lassitude began
to evaporate and, in spite of herself, she found that her
crotch was becoming wet. Not from the stinging rain hammer-
ing down from the showerhead but from her own lust.
  Prick sticking up into her loins, nudging gently at her
portals, tongue lolling inside her mouth and a wiggly fin-
ger insistently moving up her anus, Robin found herself im-
paled three different ways. She couldn't escape if she 
wanter to do such a silly thing. Why pass up such an erot-
ically interesting encounter?
  The woman began to respond to the deep, long kiss that
Bert had been lavishing on her. Robin's slender oral digit
of taste chased Bert's back into his mouth and the hide and
seek game continued, in both mouths this time instead of
just one.
  Holding the woman close to his body, Bert felt the twin
points of her breasts begin to poke harder and harder into
his naked chest. As Robin's need for him flourished, the
tiny cherry beacons mounted on her snow white tits hardened
into tiny pebbles.
  The photographer pulled Robin even closer, using his
fleshy handholds to good effect. He tried to get a second
finger up her asshole but failed. He had to be content with
the one already reposing there, wiggling and tickling the
woman's interior tissue.
  Robin's feet slipped apart slightly on the wet tile floor
and exposed her golden matted snatch. Bert twisted slightly
on the wet tile, bent his knees and leaned against the wall
the nozzle squirting out water over his shoulder. The feel
of warm water was sensuous, made his skin tingle and feel
more alive than it ever had. He saw instantly that between
his threefold ministrations and the spray of water, Robin
was really getting turned on.
  Bert slid his feet between Robin's legs, checked to make
sure he was firmly braced, then pulled the woman toward his
stiff rod. Guiding her with the finger he had embedded in
her ass, he moved her forward and lifted. Carole's mother
spread slightly wider and impaled herself on Bert's already
wet spike of flesh jutting upward from his loins. As she 
she settled down with a contented sigh, Bert felt an in-
tense pressure against his legs and shoulders.
  He had to support the weight of both their bodies, not
that he minded in the least! At first, Robin's twitching
and bouncing on his manstalk was uncomfortable. The water
deprived her natural lubricants of their oily properties,
but Robin was so lost in the throes of fucking that her
cunt fountained out almost as much liquid as did the raging
showerhead.
  She was soon properly lubricated and was sliding up
and down on Bert's pole with little resistance. With the
water tumbling around them, drenching them and making their
naked skin gleam and glisten. He wished he had his camera.
  What a shot this would make!
  The warm waterfalls trickled down his body and seemed to
return him to a prenatal condition. He was buried in a wo-
man's belly attempting to shove his dick all the way to her
womb, he was surrounded by warm, amniotic fluid, and he was
sensually rocked on the waves of passion that flooded his
body.
  Bert was content to remained propped in the stall, wiggle
his finger in its tight glove-like slot, feel the friction
mount on his staff and just let the water engulf him.
  It was a peaceful, yet paradoxically exciting situation.
  For Robin, it was totally arousing. The finger in her
rectum was driving her wild. She pumped furiously up and
down on Bert's manly cock, taking as much into her hunger-
ing interior as she could. All she had to do was lift 
slightly on her toes and then drop full force into his
groin. The water needling into her breasts rounded out the
wave of sensations.
  The woman needed stimulation in several erogenous zones.
She had never before had stimulation in three all at the
same time. Her innards felt like the flaming heart of a
crucible in a blast furnace. The belly she so desperately
attempted to fill with Bert's huge cock cried for satiation.
Acid seared the nerves throughout her hind quaters every
time the boy repositioned his finger. And it seemed as if
electrodes had been attached to her nipples.
  The hot water smashed into those aroused buttons of e-
rectile tissue and volted savage lightning blasts through-
out her chest. Her heart skipped a beat when a vagrant,
overly warm spray hit her chest, Bert stroked in and out
with his finger and she descended taking his entire length
into her cunt.
  "Chriiiist!" she screamed, her cries drowned by the rush
of water.
  Bert smiled, tossed his head slightly to one side to rid
his eyebrows of the water that had accumulated there and
threatened to drip into his eyes. He loved the sight of the
aroused woman fucking herself on his prick. He had to admit
that the feeling of power he had over her with his finger
up her ass thrilled him, also. He was becoming more and
more dominant and demanding. He was finding out what he
wanted and learning how to get it.
  Women were merely a mystery that needed solving. He was
amazed at far he had come to unlocking the door into that
secret and wonderous world. And all in a few short weeks.
He had Robin to thank for his introduction to this world
but now it was time for him to become the teacher.
  The tight fit around his index finger made him think of
Alana, with tight black ass, who bragged around school that
she had made it with him.  But Alana was just the first,
even the not too bright Cruncher realized that something
special had transpired between Bert Ellis, student, and
Julia Munoz, super hot math teacher. If the true story e-
ver came out and anyone discovered he had made it with her
not once but several times and with her luscious roommate
at the same time, it would mean Miss Munoz' job and proba-
bly prison for him (he guessed).
  The transformation had been miraculous. And all Bert had
now that he did not posess earlier, was confidence. It took
an immense amount of confidence (and guts) to walk up to
your teacher and openly proposition her. Then carry through
with it.
  It tooks tons of confidence to walk into the home of a
potential girlfriend, find her mother in the shower, strip,
and then ball her. And all to get her to agree to arrange
a date.
  That was confidence, that was outright gall!
  Looking back at the trackrecord he had run up, Bert didn't
think it was all that unusual. He was just a simple guy,
not too attractive, not too sharp - his advantage was over-
coming his shyness and radiating an aura that woman couldn't
refuse. Confidence was definitly his ace in the hole.
  "Berrrt! Fuck me! Fuck me quiiick! I can't stand it any
mooore!" Robin's passions had soared until she was at the
brink of orgasm.
  Bert knew that the next move was his. Did he play with
her for a while or did he trigger off the orgasm she begged
for?
  He decided the best course of action was to give her what
she cried out for.

  As he sank his balls deep into her frothy cunt, he pre-
vented the woman from bouncing back up by pressuring her
body with the finger in her ass. Through the delicate in-
ternal membrane, he stroked his own cock with his index
finger. His hands pulled and kneaded the ass cheeks and a
deliberate rotary motion was imparted to his hips, though
the strain was great from the position he was forced into.
  Robin moaned incoherently. Bert knew the feeling inside
her must be mounting. The fuse had been lit. He awaited the
enormous explosion of ectasy as his captive climaxed.
  The teenager was not disappointed. Robin's body wrenched
and twirled, twisted and attempted to escape the insistent
prodding he was giving her insides. Failing to be able to 
bounce and wildly fuck herself, Robin rammed her hips down
as hard as she could. Bert felt the fleeting, featherlight
touch of his glans against her deeply hidden cervix, then
all he felt was the velvet vise along his blood engorged
tool.
  Robin screamed, got water in her mouth, choked and con-
tinued writhing about the twin spikes of Bert's body that
held her prisoner as the orgasmic winds of ectasy tossed
her about. As she rocked back and forth, her cuntal con-
tractions became more violent and Bert found himself un-
able to retain control.
  His balls, which had been quivering and begging for car-
nal release, virtually exploded, creaming the voluptous
woman's vaginal walls with his seed.
  The burning shock wave raced along his cock and would
eventully echo through his entire body.  Bert rocked up and
down slightly, his finger in Robin's ass slipped out en-
tirely. It didn't matter to the youth. He was caught up in
his own oasis of passion.
  Together, they came down from the sexual high that they
had shared.
  Robin chuckled and looked at Bert's deflating prong. It
was covered with dewdrops of cunt juice and his own come.
"Here, Bert," she said seductively, "let me clean that for
you!"
  Robin greedily licked the come off his flacid dick. Bert
enjoyed the tingly feelings nudging his balls, but knew
that it was impossible for him to get another hard-on this
otherwise exciting activity. He gently smoothed the soaked
blond hair and pulled it back from the woman's face.
  "That's what I call a first rate job, Robin. You're too
good. Let me do some of the chores now!" He took the con-
vient bar of soap and soon they were laughingly soaping and
washing each other, the water showering away the lather
they might have developed.
  "Enough, enough I say!" Bert cried as Robin grabbed wild-
ly for his balls again. Having licked them clean, then 
washed them four times was too much, even for a stud, first
class.
  Bert stumbled out of the shower and grabbed the fluffly
towel he found dangling from a nearby rack. With a quick
snap, he landed it firmly against Robin's pert ass. A vague
pink spot appeared, and she yelped, more from surprise than
from pain.
  "You little bastard! Give me that towel!" They fought
playfully for the material and ended up on the bathmat,
kissing and fondling one another.
  Robin stared down into Bert's brown eyes. She quietly
said, "Bert, fuck me again. I need you so badly..."
  This was the payoff. Now or never.
  Bert said, his tone obviously brooking no argument, "All
right. But only if you can get me a date with Carole."
  Robin tried to pull away, but Bert looped the towel a-
round her back and prevented her retreat by pulling firmly
down on each end of the fluffy strip.
  "Bert! How can you ask that of me? After we've..we've.."
  "Say it, Robin. After we've fucked. Not once but several
times. And if you want to continue our little liaison, you
will talk Carole into a date with me. I don't really care
what you tell her."
  Robin's nostrils flared slightly with anger, her lips
were set in a thin line. "I was just you pawn to get to my
daughter. is that it?"
  "No, dammit! You've got a conveniently short memory. Who
seduced whom? You're the one who fucked me. You're the one
that introduced the virgin to the wonders of fantastic sex.
Now I want a chance at your daughter.  And you won't have
to do anything beyond getting me that first date. If she re-
fuses a second date, it's over. I won't even talk to her
again and anything between us can go on. Your're so damned
good at fucking, I could spend a lifetime with you and ne-
ver come close to learning all your tricks.
  "But you still want a date with Carole." She read the an-
swer in his eyes. "And if I agree, you'll stick this lovely
cock inside of me again?" She reached between them and
stroked the cock that was lengthening little by little.
  "Yep. All afternoon ling, all night long. Until you beg
me to stop. If that is what you want. What about it?"
  "I'll think about it." Then she kissed him and cut off
further discussions.

                     Chapter 7

  Bert eventually convinced Robin that she should intervene in his
behalf and try to arrange a date with Carole. The older woman had
apparently been successful because Bert had managed to creep up
behind Carole in the hallway between classes.
  He studied her curves as he surreptitously approached her. The
youth was not certain of his reception, and it did seem that Carole
had been pointedly avoiding him since the episode with Robin in the
shower. Her mother had promptly twisted her arm to go out with
Bert. The boy was almost certain that this was the rationale behind
Carole's reluctance to meet him face to face. If she did, she would
be forced to accept the date. If she could avoid him, the girl
could alibi off by saying he had never asked.
  Bert's determination to make it with Carole was unabated, but he
had been considering everything that Cruncher and several others
had said. He had even checked a book out of the library...the
public library, not the school library. He wasn't sure the staid
and aged school librarian would have wanted a copy of Krafft-Ebing
around. That had given him a couple of ideas that would certainly
be worth trying with Carole. The usual approaches to her seemed to
be fraught with nothing but dicouragement. Perhaps the unusual
would work.
  He certainly couldn't lose by trying. She was truly a sight that
made him stiff. That lovely, flowing blonde hair, just the right
shade, and natural. No bleach bottle for Carole. And her body was
a gourmet's delight. Carole managed to dress for the full impact on
the male libido, whether she realized it or not.
  From his readings, Bert didn't think she realized what she was
doing. A classic case of approach avoidance. She made herself
irresistable to a male, then did every possible thing she could, at
the last moment, to avoid getting involved. A cock teaser.
  Bert hoped that his assesment of Carole's attitude was correct.
He also hoped that he had understood what he had read. If so, soon
Carole would be eating out of his hand and he would be eating out
another part of Carole's anatomy.
  But he had to get that all important first date. Then he could
try out his scheme and see it it worked. He quietly stalked his
quarry, her back to him as he advanced. Bert reached out and laid
a gentle hand on Carole's shoulder. For a brief second, both
reacted identically.
  Bert was treated to a breathtaking vista of Carole's barely
fettered breasts from her unbuttoned blouse. The top three buttons
were unfastened in direct violation of the school dress code, but
none of the male instructors would dare mention it to her. The few
female crones that might, Carole scrupulously avoided. Bert's eyes
dived like a bathyscape into the Marianas Trench of her twin peaks,
studying the terrain of the deep valley between her boobs. If
anything, she was better endowed than her mother.
  Carole's reaction was different. She had been trapped by the very
guy she most wanted to avoid.
  Bert didn't give her a chance to bolt and run. "Glad I finally
found you, Carole. I wanted to ask you to the school dance Friday.
Your mother says you do not have a date yet." Bert added the last
to drive home the point that Carole had a duty to go on at least
one date with him.
  "Oh, well, Bert, I don't know." Her brillant blue eyes drifted
toward the floor as she furiously thougth of some lie she could
tell that would get her off the hook.
  "Sure you can, Carole. No cheerleaders practice, no tests or
homework due the next day - and you don't have a date." In front of
her friends, that latter statement would carry the most pressure.
Carole hated that her girlfriends had heard she had not gotten a
date to the dance.
  The girl's eyes elevated upward until she stared into Bert's
ingenuous brown ones. "All right, Bert. I suppose I can make it."
  He flashed his smile and said, "Great. Pick you up at seven. See
you Friday." He waved jauntily as he went to class.
  Bert exhaled a long, pent up breath in relief. So far so good.
Now for Friday night.
  The week spurted by in odd patterns of molasses and greased
lightning. The interminably long parts were in class. The ones that
fled by far to fast were occasional after school tutoring lessons
with Julia, sometimes both Julia and Barbara and one long, long
session with Alana in the darkroom. He had spent two hours getting
the table in the darkroom cleaned and scrubbed of all noxious
chemicals. Screwing on a formica surface wasn't the best of all
possible places, but the darkroom did afford a little bit of
privacy, a door that could be locked, reason for being gone for an
hour or two at a time and did not cause people to ask embarrassing
questions.
  That aspect no longer bothered Bert. Let them hint and ask all
the questions they wanted. he could toss off a jocular answer that
may or may not be pertinent to what the inquisitor wanted to know.
  Mr. Woodard, for instance, had inquired as to the progress Bert
was making on the next photo assignment for the school newspaper.
Bert had replied, "I'm still working on the basic layout with
Alana."
  "Yeah," his instructor had answered, "I know that, but how is the
project coming?"
  "Coming hard and fast, sir."
  Woodward shot him a look that combine curiosity and complete
amusement.
  Bert added, "Things are developing nicely."
  Woodward sighed. "Just be sure to get everything into the stop
before you fix it good. Some things don't wash off, you know."
  "And some things don't run off either!" Bert replied.
  Woodward had laughed at that. "You lucky son of a bitch. Get out
of here!" The man shook his head in amusement when Bert left. He
wondered what woman (women?) had changed this mousy teenager into
a real tiger.
  Friday classes seemed to be drenched in glue. Every second was an
hour, every hour an eternity. Even Miss Munoz class was something
of a drag. Miss Munoz had dressed like a nun, all in black which
could have been ultra-sexy but wasn't. Bert knew Miss Munoz and Mr.
Theodore (of the ten inch dong) had a confrontation and their
relationship was on the skids. Not that he cared, in fact, it might
mean that he would have more opportunitues to get into Miss Munoz'
pants but he was concerned about the time it might take. Right when
he needed every second he could muster into seducing Carole.
  Bert Ellis decided he would cross that bridge when he got
to it.
  Friday's last class vanished and Bert raced home. He had been
studying his closet for three days choosing the exact sartorial
elegance to don and most impress Carole. He had finally decided
that his gray and black checked shirt with black pants, black shoes
with tiny buckles and black socks would be the most effective.
  He pivoted in front of his dresser mirror and studied him- self
with a critical eye. Bert had to admit that his garb was sinister,
made him seem a trifle aloof, and yet no one could say anything was
ususual about his dress.
  Carole's subconscious would register the full effect, even if her
conscious mind did not. And right now, he had to work on her at an
elemental level, then work up, hopefully along her legs to her
golden furred snatch.
  Bert combed his hair and sprayed it with some abominable smelling
stuff that was suppposed to keep it from flopping all over the
place whenever a light wind blew. The dance tonight would require
a bit of moving around, and he didn't want to continually have to
drag a comb through his hair. It would detract from the cool, suave
and slightly bored attitude he wanted to convey.
  He left his house at seven o'clock on the dot knowing it would
take a minimum of fifteen minutes to arrive at the van derr Hoff
house. The youth wanted to be intentially late. All part of his
act, his seeming ennui with the whole evening.
  The teenager pulled up in front of Carole's house twenty minutes
late. He casually walked up the path to the door, knowing Carole
was probably watching his every move and seething inside, angry as
hell!
  The chime had barely died when the door was swung open by Robin.
The look on her face was something of a mixture of anger and
confusion. In a low voice she said, "Bert! I thought you'd never
get here. Carole's been ready for ten minutes. Do you want to go
out with her or not?"
  Bert smiled ingratiatingly and said in a normal tone, "Good
evening, Mrs. van der Hoff. Is Carole ready yet?"
  Robin shot him a venomous look, then motioned him in. He
immediately took his place on the loveseat as Robin said, "She'll
be ready in a couple of minutes." The civilation-old make the mail
wait routine, seemed a bit trite and useless since he had turned
the tables so neatly. It no longer appeared he was the eager
stallion trotting after the filly, but rather that the filly was
slightly stupid not being ready after an inexcusable delay.
  Carole appeared in a few minutes, and Bert had to re- strain a
gasp. She was dazzling. Her very radiance brightened the room
immensely. She had obviously dressed to impress him to the utmost.
The turquoise dress seemed to float about her body, clinging here,
flowing there. All the heres and theres were strategically placed
for maximum effect on any red blooded male.
  The decolletage of the dress was as improbable as it was heart
wrenching. The sharp V notch of the neckline plunged far down past
the bottom of Carole's compact melon-sized breats. Umbra danced and
masked vital portions of her partially exposed tits in a cunningly
designed fashion. Bert allowed a slight smile to creep across his
lips as he said, "Good evening, Carole. Ready to go or do you need
a few more minutes to get dressed?"
  The teenager started to duck as Carole picked up her purse. He
was certain she would fling it at him in rage at his implied
insult. Instead, her face fell into a wooden mask that smiled
mechanically.
  "I'm ready. Let's go." Ice dribbled from every word.
  Bert carefully studied anew. The hemline of her dress was perfect
for what he had in mind for the main event later in the evening. It
came to mid-thigh. The photographer thanked his lucky stars that
Carole had not chosen to wear stockings. That would have
complicated things to the point of idiocy on his part.
  Who knew? It might be nothing but stupidity that he planned. But
he would soon know.
  "I want to say good-bye to your mother." Bert turned his back to
Carole and went into the kitchen where Robin was stuffing the
dinner dishes into the dishwasher.
  "I just wanted to tell you, Mrs. van der Hoff, that I'll have
Carole back before midnight. We'll be at the school dance - it's in
the gym - and we'll probably to to Dan's Den for a hamburger
afterwards."
  Robin's lips compressed into a tight line. "I don't know what
game you're playing, Bert, but you'd better watch yourself. I'll
see you burn in hell if you..."
  "Good night, Mrs. van der Hoff," he said, cutting off her low
voiced tirade.
  Bert returned to the fuming Carole and said, "Let's go now. I
wanted your mother to know where we'd be."
  As they walked to the car, Carole asked, a note of curiosity
creeping into her soft voice, "And what did you tell her?"
  "I told her that you wanted to fuck me, and we'd be going to a
motel. What did you expect me to tell her?" Bert slammed the door
behind Carole with a trifle more force than necessary.
  He went around and got in behind the wheel. He keyed the car to
life and took off.
  "Did you really tell Mom that?"
  "You know I didn't since you were listening through the door! 
Don't try to be coy or more dense than you have be, OK? I just want
to have a good time tonight, and you asking silly questions isn't
going to make it."
  Carole promptly crumpled in the seat, clutching at the door
handle as if she planned to leap out at the next street light. She
retreated into a shell of silence and uttered not a single word
until they arrived at the high school gym.
  They passed be the hideous statue of Walter Williams, after whom
the school had been named. Carole idly remarked, "I wonder why they
cast him with his mouth open like that?"
  Bert snorted. "He probably wouldn't stop screaming when they
poured the bronze around him."
  Carole spun in amazement, her mouth half open in surprise. She
quickly clamped it shut when she saw Bert didn't appear to be
kidding. His tone and face said that he was dead serious. His mouth
had a slight smile.
  She shivered slightly although the evening was still and warm.
What kind of a warpo had she mistakenly allowed to have a date with
her? In spite of herself, however, the thougth was a bit ludicrous,
and she was silently amused. But Bert Ellis was definitely not her
type, not the way he had been treating her so far. It was as if she
were...beneath his notice!
  She, Carole van der Hoff, head cheerleader, most popular girl in
school, man killer, was being ignored as if she simply was not
important. She'd show that stupid bastard what it meant to be with
a real woman!
  Bert, when he was in plain view of anyone else, was the perfect
gentleman. He opened the door for Carole, made the rounds
introducing her to various friends of her that she didn't know. He
even introduced her to Cruncher.
  "...and this is Carole. I suppose you two already know each
other...since Crucher told me so much about you. After all, you two
do see each other all the time..on the field...so to speak."
  Carole didn't know whether to be insulted or not. Was Bert merely
being tongue-tied and obtuse?  Was he implying that she knew this
neanderthal football player intimately?
  She decided she would turn the tables on him, turn on her charms
full blast and let this Cruncher be the lucky recipient. "I've
always admired the way you just smash right on through and take out
all those big guys intent on running over the quarterback."
  "Well sometimes I play the defensive line, too. I sort of enjoy
being the one to dump the quarterback."
  "Oh that's marvelous!" Carole squealed in glee, almost to the
point of jumping up and down and clapping her hands in cheerleader
fashion.
  Bert took her elbow and maneuvered her away before she realized
what was happening. "Over here is the school paper's editor. You
know Alana, I guess. You cheerleader types seem to know everyone."
  Alana's reception was markedly different from Cruncher's. The big
tackle had been turning on the charm as much as Carole had been.
Carole was met with pure, unadulterated hatred here. And Bert
seemed intent on lingering, making lewd innuendoes with this black
bitch and talking about trivial matters.
  The band blared out its first song, but still Bert talked on with
Alana. Just as Cruncher started over, his intent obvious, Bert
grabbed Carole by the arm and guided her out to the dance floor.
"Enough talk for now. Let's dance."
  The girl couldn't get into the flow of the music, and her
movements were those of a poorly coordinated marionette. Bert
flowed and glided with easy grace. Soon, Carole was beginning to
feel completely out of synch with everything going on around her,
a new and disquieting feeling. She normally dug these dances. They
gave her a chance to flaunt her multitudimous charms, bedazzle male
onlookers and generally have a fine time.
  Tonight, nothing was going right. Her dancing, normally sinuous
and vaguely lewd and suggestive, was clumsy. It was Bert who shone,
who had the envious eyes of both sexes on him.
  Carole didn't understand that. Not completely. The male admirers
were to be expected. He had a date with her. But the feminine
attraction to this zilch of a photographer was inexplicable. Carole
wracked her brain and failed to find the answer. He treated her
like dirt. Polite, well mannered, but disinterested. And yet all
the other girls cast envious eyes on him.
  There was a suavity, an assured air about him that seemed
preternaturally embodied in his actions. Carole was both attracted
and repulsed. She couldn't decide if she hated him or not.
  "Bert, let's leave here and get something to eat. I'm feeling
hungry." She wasn't the least bit famished, but it was an excuse to
allow her to escape from the myriad of eyes focused on them. She
had long ago learned that, in the middle of an embarrassing
situation, it paid to cut it as short as possible. Leaving now was
the best thing she could do.
  She was half-afraid Bert would refuse to leave. He sur- prised
her when he rapidly assented. "Okay, let's go on out to the car.
And if we get to the hambuger joint early, it won't be crowded."
  Carole breathed a sigh of relief as they left the gym. The cool
night air quickly evaporated some the sw%at that had trickled down
the deep crevice of her bosom and made her feel uncomfortable.
Outside, alone, she decided she might be able to turn the tables on
her escort. Using tricks she had long since perfected might just
make Bert Ellis as uncomfortable as he had made her all night long.
  She moved closer to the boy, took his arm and hung on like a
drowning person gripping a life preserver. "Bert," she cooed, "do
we really have to go and get something to eat first? I'd rather
just drive around. Maybe we could... park and...look at the
lights." Her voice was low and seductive. And when Carole tried,
she could be very seductive.
  Bert turned to her and put both arms around her, looked down into
her icy blue eyes and softly responded, "You don't want anything to
eat? What a pity." Bert's next movement was lightning fast. His
arms still encircled her, but his hands flashed underneath her
skirt, found the elastic band of her panties and quickly pulled
them down her slender legs.
  It took an instant for the girl to realize the liberty he was
taking with her. Carole tried to kick him. That was a mistake. It
allowed Bert to slip the blue silk panties off one foot, then the
other. He stood, holding the telltale underwear just beyond her
grasp.
  "Dammit, give me those back!" she cried.
   Bert kept his voice low. "I wouldn't want to cause a scene if I
were you. If you scream, you'll have a lot of people out here. And
then you'd have to explain to all of them how I just happened to
get you panties and...stuff them into my pants pocket." He tucked
the last tiny slip of the silk into his front pocket. "They'd be
asking you questions, not me."
  The blonde's mind furiously raced. Bert was right, damn him! He
had treated her politely in front of the others; it was she who had
the reputation for putting men into embaressing situations. Who'd
believe that he had managed to get her undies off so slickly?
  A trembling note crept into her voice. "What do you want?" She
was truely fightened now. There was no limit to what she would do
to get those panties back.
  "Let's go get something to eat. Dan's Den is as good as any."
Bert turned to go to his car.
  Incensed, in spite of herself, Carole indignantly exclaim- ed,
"Is that all!" She couldn't believe her ears.
  "That's all. Let's go."
  At the restaurant, Bert insisted on going inside to eat. Carole
refused to sit next to her date and steadfastly dropped into the
seat opposite Bert's. He smiled broadly as if expecting her to do
exactly as she had done. That elusive smile made Carole feel funny
inside, like she'd made a mistake and didn't know exactly what it
was.
  Bert ordered and sat talking about inconsequential things.
School, teachers, even the weather. All the time, he intently
watched her. Carole knew what was going through his mind. He knew
she didn't have any panties on and that damned short skirt dress
kept riding up due to the smooth vinyl seat.
  The blonde wiggled to arrange her dress so that it would not hike
up and expose her nakedness. The more she squirmed, the more Bert
smiled. Carole was rapidly becoming furious with him. Bert Ellis
was toying with her, making her jump through hoops whenever he
snapped his fingers, and she did not like it. Not one bit.
  Carole was just ready to declare it a night when she felt a cold
presence between her tightly clenched thighs. With a firm
insistence it pushed up until it reached her snatch. The girl
reached under the table and found Bert's foot ed- ging toward her
pussy.
  Frightened eyes fastened on Bert's cool, composed face. He said
in a level voice, "Put your hands on the table and don't resist.
You'd never be able to explain it, not with the crowd coming in."
  Carole cast a frightened glance behind her and saw sever- al of
her friends coming in. The dance must have reached a point of
boredom where more left than stayed. And they had all come to the
favorite hangout of the Walter Williams Memorial High School crowd.
  The girl jumped slightly as Bert's big toe wiggled its way into
her cunt. Her eyes widened in horror as she realized what he was
doing to her. He was actually thrusting his big toe in and out of
her cunt as if he were fucking her! And she couldn't do or say a
thing about it. Not in public. Who would ever believe her?
  Who could honestly believe that she had allowed him to take off
her panties without a struggle? That she would agree to go into a
public place without any undies? That she would let him diddle her
with his big toe? She'd gone too far already not to let him
continue!
  Bert continued his impassive, almost monotone speech. But he knew
what was going through the blonde's cock-teasing mind as surely as
if he were a telepath. Even more to the point, he could feel the
thin juices of her lust oozing from her pussy to trickle around his
toes.
  He felt the soft inner thigh of Carole's leg against the arch of
his foot. It seemed perfectly moulded for this odd fornication in
public. This mock copulation that he did not reveal and she could
not.
  Carole panicked. She could feel herself getting moist in the
crotch where the boy's toe gently stroked back and forth. He would
start on the vinly, trace his toe along her perineum and then
caress her cuntal lips. The inner fluids she leaked out frightened
her. Without meaning to, she was egging him on, giving him a reason
to further humiliate her. And yet, who but she knew what was
happening?
  She looked around and saw her friends, snuggling close to
boyfriends, hands fluttering under the tables groping for various
portions of the other's anatomy. Carole and Bert appeared to be
distant, even polar toward each other. He spoke quietly, a monotone
that would put most people to sleep. And she sat across the table
from him, continually pulling her dress down like a sedate young
lady.
  Could she carry out the charade? Could she keep from  showing the
emotion she felt? Carole began tearing the napkin into tiny strips
to alleviate the nervous tension building in her body. As Bert's
toe stroked up and down her sex, lances of fire leaped up into her
belly and destroyed her normally composed behavior.
  She must not show any unusual emotion!
  As the wandering digit prodded against her fully erect clitoris,
Carole almost came. She clenched down hard on her napkin, bit her
lower lip and looked out the window beside thier booth.
  The waitress placed the greasy hamburgers in front of the pair,
then solicitously asked, "You all right, honey? You look like
you're, uh..." her voice lowered as she continued "...you're having
a hot flash."
  The waitress glanced at Bert, embarrassed that she'd been so
forward in front of her date.
  Bert suavely said, "That's quite all right, She's just having a
momentary hunger pang. Isn't that so, Carole?" He punctuated his
question with another long, wiggly excursion into her love hole.
  Carole's blonde head bobbed up and down. "He's right I... I'm
ff..ffeeling weak from...hunger."
  The waitress looked skeptical but said nothing else. She had ten
other tables to serve and didn't have time to waste with one chick
in the middle of her period.
  Bert said, "You did that very nicely. My, doesn't this hamberger
look good?" Carole's blue eyes, slightly glazed from the diddling
he continued to force on her tormented twat, didn't fail to notice
that he piled on all the onions he could.
  "Eat up, Carole. Although we've plenty of time, I would like to
get you home earlier than I promised your mother." It was only nine
o'clock.
  Carole could not finish her hamburger. The toe that cours- ed up
and down her slash tortured her to an unbelievable extent. She
experienced an orgasm and had to camouflage it as a coughing fit.
Bert looked on, a clinical observer studying a patient. His face
betrayed none of the gloating he felt. He, Bertram Ellis, had
broken through the iceberg's exterior!
  Without having to be told, he knew he could have anything he
wanted after they left the restaurant.
  "Excuse me, Bert. I..I..." she swallowed hard as he turn- ed his
foot sideways and plied all of his toes along her sex slit, "I
want...go...ttto tthe lladies room." She finished her statement in
a rush.
  Bert only shook his head in negation. He continued to eat his
hamburger, chewing carefully before swallowing.
  "Please!" she cried out. Carole was instantly aware of three
dozen pairs of eyes on her.
  "Better keep your voice down, Carole. People are staring at you."
  "You beast!" she sobbed, The itch in her genitals was un-
bearable. She had to have surcease. She had to get him to stop
playing with her using his foot.
  She wanted...wanted...his hard, throbbing cock in her!
  Carole felt the growing urgency in her cunt again as another
toe-triggered orgasm built up. She had totally ripped apart four
napkins and was bending the fork. Lances of agony/ectasy jolted
her. She wanted him to stop. She wanted him to continue.
  Carole van der Hoff wanted him!
  Suddenly, the teasing array of toes disappeared from her cunt.
She started to straighten her dress and decided against it. She
would have to lift her butt off the vinly and that might flash bare
shin. The girl had to be satisfied with pulling her dress down over
her legs without feeling the material trapped under her.
  "Let's go." Bert stood and walked to pay the check. In amazement,
she looked down and saw he had somehow managed to get his sock and
shoe back on without reaching under the table. Her lust numbed
brain couldn't figure out how the acrobatic feat had been
accomplished.
  All she really cared about was leaving. In a hurry. Without
talking to any of her friends. She had been stupid enough to choose
a short dress. Now she didn't near any tables, less the occupants
look up and see he pink lipped, golden furred nakedness underneath.
They would all smirk. They would all start whispering about her.
  Carole couldn't bear the thought.
  She rushed out, past table after table, her arms locked firmly at
her sides to prevent her dress from swaying.
  Bert casually walked out, bidding a couple of friends good night,
then sauntered after the girl.
  He caught a fragment of conversation from a table near the door.
"Did you see that, Al? Damned if Carole didn't rush out of here
looking like she'd just been fucked in public and Bert Ellis is as
cool as a cucumber!"
  Carole was already in the car, hands firmly gripping the hem of
her dress. As Bert go in, she said in a voice of cold rage, "I hate
you! I hate you, Bert Ellis, like I've never hated before! I could
kill you! OOOOHHHH!"
  Bert started the engine and didn't say a word until they were out
on the street. "What do you hate me for? No one knew what was
happening back there. Except you and me. And are you telling me you
didn't enjoy it? I think you'd be lying if you said you didn't get
off on the entire scene."
   Carole sat rigidly for a moment, doing some soul searching.
"Bert. Fuck me. I want you to stuff your cock up where you had your
toes."
  Bert did not immediately respond. He turned a sharp corner and
drove to a favorite lover's lane that overlooked the city. The
lights were spectacular but few ever saw them, except before or
after the reason they made the drive.
  "Bert," Carole asked, plaintively, "will you?"
  Bert turned off the ignition and lounged back in the seat. "Why
should I? You've never given me the time of day before. Why should
I do anything at all for you?  You would not even be here if it
were not for your mother."
  Carole's temper flared. "You make it sound like you'd be doing me
a big favor! Such gall!"
  The quiet words that answered unnerved her more than any- thing
else he had done to her all night long.
  "I would be doing you a favor."
  Long minutes of silence dragged between them, then Carole said,
"Bert, please. My...my crotch is burning. It feels like it's filled
with ants or something. Please!"
  "You're begging for my cock? Come, come, you can be more orginal
than that! Surely you have heard some good stories about why I
should fuck you.  Better yet, what are you willing to do for my
cock?"
  Carole's eyes glowed luminously with lust and hate in the dim
light. "What do you mean?"
  "I mean you've got to earn it. What'll you do to earn my cock?"
  Carole thought for a few seconds, her hands rubbing her crotch
through the thin fabric of her dress. "I'll pose for you for that
silly contest. How's that?"
  Bert shook his head. "No good. I've already got someone else
lined up," he lied. "Besides, it's my cock you want. You have to do
something for it."
  "Like what?" Her voice betrayed her soaring emotions.
  "Suck on it." His voice was absolutely level. He could have been
giving a weather report rather than ordering her to give him a blow
job. Yet they both realized this was exactly what he was doing.
Bert wasn't stating an alternative he was giving a command, and
order that Carole would eventually give in to.
  A timid little girl voice, so unlike her normally husky, sultry
tones came, "Okay."
  Bert unzipped his fly but didn't move from his seat. "Go on, Suck
for all you're worth. If you know how!" The final challenge he
hurled at Carole almost yanked the girl across the car.
  Her mouth encircled Bert's cock and licked and lapped with an
avidity that reflected just how hot she'd gotten back at the
restaurant. Carole paid no attention to the fact that her short
dress hiked up and displayed the rounded twin globes of her
buttocks. In the faint moonlight, they gleamed a pearlescent white.
Bert gazed at them wanting to reach out and take them into his
lusting grip. But he knew that, as much as he desired to take them -
and Carole - he couldn't.
  Net yet. But soon.
  Her naked ass did more to harden Bert's cock than the in- expert
cocksucking that Carole was giving out. Bert just relaxed as much
as he could and stared out across the city. Tiny jewels strewn from
the hand of a drunken giant. Beacons in the night guiding him on
his way to a sexual Nirvana. All that and more as Carole tongued
his now fully erect pole of manhood.
  Bert didn't touch her. He longed to caress her golden, shimmering
hair, to guide her motion up and down his shaft. The youth
refrained. He wanted nothing more than to reach around and stuff a
few fingers up her steaming twat. He didn't.
  He just let her continue her oral assault on his organ.
  Carole couldn't understand Bert's passiveness. There was no way
she could even guess he was playing a bigger game than just one
fucking. That he was going for broke. Either he hooked her into a
long string of lovemaking or he lost everything. Starting with
nothing, he had everything to gain and nothing to lose.
  The blonde continued pulling at his prong, licking it with her
tongue and rubbing the blood-engorged head against the roof of her
mouth. Carole was at a loss to understand why Bert didn't ejaculate
instantly. Every other guy she'd sucked off had shot his load in a
few brief seconds. She disliked stuffing a prick into her mouth. It
was distasteful to the girl but sometimes it was the only way to
cool a date off and prevent outright rape.
  She was an expert at dragging a guy along, then dumping him hard
and leave him lusting after her body.
  Now that she had found someone impervious to her charms, she
didn't know how to handle it. Carole had decided that sucking Bert
off as quickly as possible would take care of him. That would force
him to betray his lust for her, and she could regain a semblance of
the dignity she had lost earlier in the evening.
  Even that escape value for her pride seemed to be denied her. She
sucked, she tongued, she gently gnawed on his resilient rod and
only managed to get a slight movement of his hips and a tiny moan
from his lips. She knew he wasn't a corpse, not with that warm,
throbbing, living tool that she lovingly held in her mouth.
  The only explanation was that she wasn't as good as others he'd
gone with. The thought chilled Carole. Then a grim resolution
filled her. She'd bring him off in such a big way, he'd never
forget it.
  Carole began to suck in earnest now. Her cheeks went concave
under the force, and the girl became slightly dizzy from her
restricted breathing patterns. The fluffy forest of his pubic hair
assailed her nose, made her want to laugh and sneeze at the same
time. Her wet lips glided up and down the rigid, pulsating shaft.
The big blue vein throbbed on top of his penis and Carole kissed
it.
  Turning her attentions to the sensitive head, the cock- teaser
showed how to tease a cock. A light, fleeting kiss, a gentle nip,
a long rough wet lick with her tongue. Then the "O" of her ruby
lipped mouth encircled the cylinder of his passion and plied over
the purpled arrowhead until a crick formed in the girl's contorted
neck.
  Bert said, his voice muffled, "I'm getting tired. Do you want me
to come?"
  Carole couldn't believe her ears. He was getting tired! Did she
want him to ejaculate!
  She increased the suction on the very tip of his cock, her tongue
moving in figure eight patterns on the delicate underside. Again
Bert asked if she was ready for him to come but this time added
that he was getting bored. Ego totally shattered, Carole shook her
head affirmative while sucking on his cock. Carole felt the cock
stiffen even more, begin to expand with an added complement of
blood. Then, with a gush like a rocket launching, his come jetted
into her mouth.
  The blonde tried to back off but found powerful hands holding her
head over his length. She had no choice but to take the entire
stream, swallow, then take the next spurt as it erupted from his
tube.
  Bert heaved a big sigh as the last of his jism trickled from his
cock. It had been one hell of a battle to keep from letting the
girl know how turned on he was and how close to coming he was
before he had asked her if she wanted him to come.
  This was one of his biggest and most recurring wet dreams being
sucked off by Carole van der Hoff. And he had enjoyed it to the
utmost, but he couldn't tell her that. If he did, he'd lose her
instantly.
  He reflected back on everything that had happened. He had pegged
her exactly. She was a cockteaser, all right, but  Bert had figured
out a way to stop her almost-love-em-and- leave-em ways. Everything
he did put her down. He treated her like trash. Not overtly,
nothing she could complain about and have anyone believe. But she
knew he was interested, but in a distant way. He didn't consider
her God's gift to mankind, and that piqued her interest in him,
strenghtened her resolve to get even. If he played his cards right,
she'd come back for more and more humiliation, and he could get her
to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.
  Bert shoved her away as he said, "Time to get you back home."
  Carole looked up, opalescent come dripping down her chin. "That's
all you have to say?"
  "Yeah. I've had better blowjobs. By the way, here're your
panties." He tossed them to the girl.
  "But...but...aren't you going to...?" She was dumbfounded. She
had obviously expected him to fuck her then and there.
  "You mean you actually expect me to ball you? Well," he said,
making it sound like he was making a painful decision, "maybe some
other time."
  Carole was struck speechless.


