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The following story
is intended for ADULTS ONLY.
It contains frank and
sexually explicit material.
If you do not want to
read of such things, or if
it
is against the laws of the area you are
in, then
please
do not read it.
Cuckold’s Choice
Sam idly surveyed
his grade eight classroom, his mind on other things. It wasn't supposed to be
this way he mused, ruefully. I'm only twenty-nine years old and I shouldn't be
impotent. Even Viagra hadn't done its job and his doctor blamed the problem on
anxiety-generated adrenalin, which was, he'd said, the enemy of erections. But
still, Shelly shouldn't be cheating on me. It just makes it worse. She should
be helping me. I feel like people can see those cuckold horns on my head.
"Uh,
Mr. Slade?
Sir? Are you OK?"
Sam looked up,
startled from his sad reverie. "Oh, Sally. Sorry. I guess I was
dreaming. What can I do for you?"
"Uh,
Sir?
Like? It's about my essay, Sir? You said you'd help me?"
"Yeah,
that's right, Sally. There were some things in it that... well... that I don't
think you want to write about. Not for school, anyway."
He looked
at the cute, petite youngster standing by his desk and he felt a stirring in
his groin. Damn! Guilt washed over him as he fought the immoral thoughts that
Sally and some of her classmates aroused in him. He couldn't get it up for his
beautiful, buxom wife but these nubile nymphets gave him an almost constant
erection while in class. "But we can't go over it here... not now...
can you come back after class?"
"Sure,
Mr. Slade.
Today?"
"Yeah...
after four thirty, Sally."
What was he thinking? Why did the young, timid ones
get to him while his aggressive, demanding wife of four years left him limp and
unable to perform?
"In my office."
The teacher reminded
Sally of her Uncle Ben, the uncle she had written about in her essay, 'My
Special Family'. Mr. Slade was bigger and better looking than Uncle Ben but he
was gentle and nice and she liked him a lot. Lots more than that awful Miss
Miller who yelled at her and never said she did good work. Why did Mr. Slade
want to talk to her about her essay? She'd been very careful to put in commas
and capitals and all that stuff.
Why was he such a
wimp? He'd known what he'd find when he went home at noon so why had he gone
unless he was prepared to do something about it? But, even though he'd
suspected that Shelly was cheating, it had been a shock to actually see it.
Sam's
underperforming organ stirred as, perversely, his libido was activated by the
memory of what he'd seen. Rick Adams wasn't much to look at and he'd been
surprised that he was Shelly's choice. Maybe he was just one of several? But
the probable reason for choosing the small, plain man became very evident when
he dismounted from the faithless wife's spread-eagled body and she mounted him.
Damn! The guy had almost ten inches. So the answer was there. He was being
long-cocked.
The schoolteacher
hadn't been concerned about size until today. His own endowment was more than
seven inches, and thick, too. He knew he was above average but he couldn't
compete with
His last class was
finished at three so, as if to rub salt into his cuckoldry wound, Sam had gone
home to see if Shelly was there. She wasn't and there was no evidence of the
lewd display he'd observed at noon. Feeling sick with jealousy and anger he'd
put on his running shorts. After his young student finished her office visit,
he'd run until he was exhausted and maybe that would help him get over the
trauma of Shelly's betrayal of their vows.
Sam heard the timid
knock at the door and looked at his watch. It would be Sally. God. Even her uncle was getting it while he, himself, couldn't
even get it up, let alone, in. He got up from the desk and opened the door,
then closed it.
"Uh, I
brought my essay, Mr. Slade. Was it? Like? Is there stuff wrong with it? I
really worked hard on it, Sir."
"No, Sally,
the grammar and punctuation are almost perfect. It's just that... well... what
you've written is sort of private? You know? Things you shouldn't tell other
people about?"
Damn! Her uncle might be an unprincipled lecher but Sam could
understand why. The girl was a beauty. Her small mouth had an indefinable
sexiness about it that was accentuated by the sultry look in her heavy-lidded
eyes. She just naturally looked like she was asking for it. And, even though
she was petite, she was shapely. And the clothes she wore showed off her cute,
round little bum and the twin, outthrust projections of her nicely developing
bust.
"But
Sir?
I... like... you said we were s'posed to talk about feelings and stuff. And
Uncle Ben gives me real good feelings. I didn't... like... use bad words or nothin' like that?"
I wonder if he has a little niece or someone
to teach stuff to? I bet he does a good job, if he has
someone.
"I know,
Sally... it's just... like... you say in your essay that it's a secret between
you and your uncle... but now it isn't a secret."
True, she hadn't said
directly that he uncle had fucked her or that she'd sucked his cock but it was
easy to read all that between the lines.
"Yeah, but
you're my teacher. You're not gonna tell are you?"
"Of course
not, Sally. But? Maybe I misread what you wrote? What
did you mean when you wrote,"
and he took the essay from
her and quickly found the quote, "Uncle Ben showed me with his hands
how I could have fun by myself like older girls?"
"Uh,
like... he... you know, Mr. Slade. He played with me."
"How,
Sally? How did he play with you?"
God! Was this nubile, young creature as simple and
naïve as she seemed?
"Hee
hee... you know... don'cha have a niece or someone you hafta teach?"
"No, Sally,
I don't. So you have to show me."
What am I thinking of? Even if she'll let me, I
can't take advantage of her naiveté. "Show me exactly what he
did."
"Exactly?
Like? Do you want me to get
like I used to for Uncle Ben?"
"Yes,
Sally. That's probably the best way. How did you get for your uncle?"
"Hee
hee... I sat on his lap, Mr.
Slade. Can I sit on yours?"
I wonder if he's going to get like Uncle Ben? Maybe he's going to want me to do stuff for him, too?
The stirring in
Sam's groin became more intense as the cute teenager came behind the desk to
where he sat and, with a bit of a smile, clambered up onto his lap.
"It's not
quite the same, Mr. Slade. When Uncle Ben showed me I was ready for bed so I
dint have much on. Do you want me to... like... sorta undress?"
I know he does. I could feel
him. He's hard there like Uncle Ben got. I bet he wants to do the same stuff,
too.
"Uh... I
don't know, Sally? That may not be a good idea?"
"But I
gotta, Sir, if I'm gonna show you what he done."
And without waiting for her
teacher's OK, the petite teen slid down off his knees and quickly took off all
her clothes. "Golly... it's cold in here, Mr. Slade. You gotta hug me
to keep me warm." And the naked, young girl climbed back onto Sam's
lap and snuggled close to him.
If there'd been a
stirring in his groin before, now it was a violent agitation. The feel of the
girl's warm, bare flesh against his thighs added to the visual appeal of her
petite, shapely, nude body. He could barely restrain the impulse to cup one of
her firm, conical breasts or explore the fuzzy bulge below her little belly.
"So, Sally...
show me,"
the teacher said in a soft, lust-choked voice. "What did Uncle Ben
do?"
"Hee
hee,"
the youngster giggled
nervously. "I think you know," and she took his hand in hers
and drew it down, opening her legs to reveal the plump bulge of her young
vulva.
"Is this
what he did?"
and Sam gently pressed a finger between the girl's soft cuntlips. She
had a little crown of black, curly hair on her mons and a straggling of black
hair haloing her plump pussy. He was surprised but delighted to find, in the
narrow crease, that young Sally was wet, wet and slippery. She was sitting
sideways across his thighs and, as he probed the humid slit, she spread her
legs wider apart.
"Yeah...
like that,"
the juvenile gasped when his finger found the little bud of her clitoris.
"That's what he done!" She pulled his hand closer and began to
hump her pelvis against his finger. "It's better than when I do it to
myself."
Sam knew what to do
and, for the moment, he forgot that the girl he was fingering was so young, and
one of his students. His other hand covered the firm cone of her left breast,
feeling the way the hard nipple punched into his palm and rubbing it in the
same tempo as he stroked her little clit.
"Yeah...
hurry... yeah,"
his adolescent pupil gasped and then her thighs clamped on his wrist
and she wriggled through an obvious orgasm.
"You came,
didn't you, Sally?"
The teacher stopped titillating her clit and slowly rubbed his hand
over her soft, slippery quim.
"Yeah...
thanks Mr. Slade... it was fab,"
and the delightful youngster snuggled up to her
teacher's chest. "Was it fun for you, too? Uncle Ben useta say it was
fun... but he said it was more fun when I done him, too. Do you want me to do
you, Sir?"
"Uh... I
don't think so, Sally?"
Actually, the thought of getting a handjob from the
cute youngster sent a hot thrill through his loins but Sam doubted he could
maintain his present throbbing erection and he didn't want to embarrass himself
in front of a thirteen-year-old. "But tell me... show me... you wrote
'I like him more than Aunt Lucy does because I swallow his cream and she
don't.' What do you mean?"
"Uh... you
know..."
and she squirmed on the hard lump in her teacher's crotch.”He
likes it when I... you know... kiss it?"
"That's
what I thought you meant, Sally. Do you always swallow?"
Sam could barely restrain
his urge to force the little girl's head down into his lap and get her to wrap
those soft lips around his cock.
"Yeah... 'cept... like... lately he... you know... he puts it in
here,"
and the little teen pushed out her hips and pulled his hand harder against her
cunt.
Sam sensed that his
little student was getting hot again and he was surprised that a girl as young
as this could be so easily aroused. And then he heard sounds outside the door.
"Damn! I
forgot. They're painting the classroom tonight, Sally. We'll have to finish
talking about your essay tomorrow."
The young teen
seemed as disappointed as the teacher but she dressed quickly and Mr. Slade let
her out the side door of the adjoining classroom so the painters wouldn't get
ideas about what sort of teaching was taking place.