Subject:     School Administrator
Story Codes: MF oral exhib adultery incest father daughter
Diary Date:  May 26, 2009
Author:      Kelly <pghpa_girl@yahoo.com>

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                              !!!WARNING!!!!

This file contains sexually explicit material which may include graphic 
depictions of underage, nonconsensual and unprotected sex as well as incest, 
adultery, sodomy and bestiality.  It is distributed on a website clearly 
identified as "For Adults Only".  Possession by a minor is strictly 
forbidden.  If you are not legally empowered to be in possession of such 
material, do not read it and delete it immediately.

This work is copyrighted 2012 to the author. It may be posted to non- 
commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites so long as 
no changes are made to the content and the Author information is retained.   
Any other use of this work is by written permission of the Author only.

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Summary:

Life can be like a roller-coaster sometimes, full of climbs and drops, sudden 
turns and gut-wrenching twists.  All my life I’d wanted nothing more than to 
be a teacher and then it seemed all my hopes and dreams were crushed.   When 
an opportunity arose, who could blame me for comprising my principles so long 
as it led to me doing what I’d always dreamed of - teaching. 

Table of Contents:
   Chapter 1 – Hopes Realized and Crushed
   Chapter 2 – The First Interview
   Chapter 3 – The Second Interview
   Chapter 4 -  Preparing For My Final “Interview”
   Chapter 5 – How Bad Did I Want the Job?
   Postlude


Chapter 1 – Hopes Realized and Crushed
======================================

All kids grow up thinking they know what they want to be when they grow up.  
Little boys imagine becoming a heroic figure, like a fireman, policeman, maybe 
an astronaut.  Little girls dress up as princesses, nurses, teachers, and 
beauty pageant winners.  Sadly, most of them never realize their dreams.  I 
mean, whoever gets in front of their 6th grade class to say they want to be a 
garbage man, a proctologist or a grocery store clerk?  Yet all these people 
are needed and their jobs are still important, if maybe not so glamorous.

As for me, sure there were the days I dressed up in my mother’s old clothes 
and pretended to be princess.  Like every other girl, I watched my share of 
beauty pageants and imagined it was me standing on the stage at the end with a 
crown on my head and roses cradled in my arms. 

Yet there was only one thing I truly ever dreamed about becoming – a teacher.  
I can’t really explain why, it’s just been something that I’ve always wanted.  
I guess I admired most of my teachers as I grew up.  As I got older and had 
the opportunity to work with children in various capacities at my church and 
other volunteer groups, it only strengthened my determination.  To see the joy 
in a child’s face when they learn something new is incredible and fulfilling – 
it simply cannot be forgotten.

Graduating with my teaching degree was one of the highlights of my life.  My 
goal had been to return to my old home school district and teach but it was an 
extremely competitive job market and the waiting list was incredibly long.  As 
an alumni I was hoping that I might have a bit of an edge, but in talking with 
some friends that were already teaching there, I realized that nothing would 
help me more than to get some real-world experience to go along with my 
freshly minted diploma.

After applying at a number of schools, I was fortunate to find a small 
Christian school that needed a replacement for their 4-6 grade teacher who had 
been injured.  It was one of the proudest days of my life when I stood before 
my first class, a real teacher at last.  Sure there were days when it was 
frustrating and I would go home wondering what I’d gotten myself into.  
Overall, though, it was just as rewarding and satisfying as I’d hoped it would 
be – maybe even more.  I loved the age group I was teaching.  As one teacher I 
knew use to say, “young enough to love their teacher but old enough to tie 
their shoes”. 

That may have been true more of the 4th graders than 6th grade, but at least 
it was a far cry better than the hormonal 8th graders I had when I did my 
student teaching!  Now THEY were a challenge, to say the least.  The girls all 
had the “attitude” going strong while the boys were learning about sex and it 
seemed they had perpetual erections in class as they constantly tried looking 
down my blouse or up my skirt.  If 8th grade as already that bad, I can only 
imagine what high school would be like which is why I preferred the younger 
kids.

At the same time my professional career was taking off, my personal life was 
going along great as well.  Finally I was dating a guy who looked to be “the 
one” Duane was indeed the love of my life and I could easily see myself 
accepting his marriage proposal.  To make it all the more interesting, I’d 
been getting reports of him appearing in jewelry shops looking at rings!  
Marriage, or at least an engagement, seemed imminent.  Yes, my life was 
good... good indeed!

Duane knew a LOT about me, including many of the sexual “adventures” I’d had 
since my first time at age fourteen.  Given we’d met the first time at local 
BJ party (at least so he and my friends claim, I hated to admit it but I 
didn’t remember his dick in particular), it wasn't like he thought I was some 
innocent little teenager.  In fact, not only did Duane not care that I had a 
reputation for being a slut, he actually seemed to be proud of me because of 
it.  This was especially true when he got to grin mischievously at the guys I 
was teasing, not letting them forget that HE was the one I’d be going home to 
bed with at the end.

As much as Duane THOUGHT he knew about me, the potential problem was that he 
didn’t know EVERYTHING.  The inner conflict I was having was when and how to 
tell him perhaps one of the most important aspects of my life – the incestual 
relationships between me, my dad and the rest of our family.  It’s not like it 
was something that comes up in casual conversation and I didn't exactly 
advertise it.  I never told anyone I was dating as I was afraid that when we 
broke up he would go out and blab about it to everyone – even if we didn't 
break up for that matter.  As a wide person once said, a secret is no longer a 
secret if two people know about it.

Although I knew I had to tell Duane about me before we got married, I 
procrastinated, unsure of how he would react.  Now you would THINK it would be 
just fine with him, especially since it meant he would also be able to have 
sex with my mom, aunt and cousins (AFTER we got married).  Unfortunately, some 
guys can be strange.

When it comes to jealousy and possessiveness, logic and reason pretty much go 
out the window when it comes to guys and their girlfriends.  All I had to do 
was look at my Aunt Linda’s history.  Her husband knew about everything before 
they got married but even then, once they were married he couldn't deal with 
his wife having sex with other men, even if it WAS only her father and 
brother-in-law.  Like, they were her family so of course they fucked her, what 
did he expect?  Anyway, he finally forced her to choose between him or her 
family which left her with only one viable option – divorce.  You can’t EVER 
go against your family and it was horrible for him to put her where she had to 
make such a decision.  Thus it was my goal was to be sure THAT didn’t happen 
to me!

Looking back now, my biggest mistake was that rather than commit myself and 
just tell Duane everything outright, I chickened out and decided to ease into 
it a little at a time.  To start, I let him learn about my Aunt Linda and 
Kristi first, figuring I would see what his reaction was to another case of 
mother- daughter sex before telling him about my involvement with my mom and 
dad.  OK, so it turned out to be a bad decision – VERY bad as he broke up with 
me and tried to ruin my life.  Yet in some ways it may have worked out for the 
best in that at least I learned how he felt BEFORE we got married.  Long story 
short, we broke up and to make things worse, he even said something to the 
school administrator where I taught, who happened to be a personal friend of 
his family.  

I'll never know exactly what Duane told him, but it was enough for the school 
administrator to confront me and ask for my resignation using some vague 
references, enough to scare me without any specifics.  Afraid I would make 
things even worse if I protested, I did as he asked, leaving my kids without 
so much as a tearful goodbye.  Thus in a matter of days I lost the man I 
thought I would marry AND the career I loved so dearly.  Talk about your bad 
week...

Losing my teaching position left me more than just heartbroken.  Was my new 
teaching career finished before it even got off the ground?  Any school that 
might hire me in the future would surely contact the administrator of any 
previous institution where I’d taught to ask for a reference.  Although my 
resignation letter didn't give any details, and so far as I knew there were no 
formal records of any of the accusations that were made against me, so long as 
he was around my teaching certifications weren't worth the paper they were 
printed on.

Well, as they say, God works in mysterious ways.  I’d assumed the 
administrator, an older guy but not ancient by any means, would be around for 
many more years before he retired.  Then something unexpected happened; he had 
a heart attack which left him unable to return to work, forcing him into 
retirement earlier than he had planned.  When I heard the news my emotions 
were conflicted.  Of course I felt bad for him personally, nobody should take 
joy in the suffering of another human being.  Yet at the same time my heart 
was fluttering as I wondered if it meant an opportunity had just opened for 
me?

No matter what, until a new administrator was hired I couldn't apply for 
anything since when someone resigns without notice, as I’d done, it would be 
difficult for any temporary person to make such a decision to hire someone 
like me back.  One nice thing about private schools, they don't have to go 
through all the rigmarole that public schools do when hiring someone in such a 
position.  In fact, only a month had passed before I was told by a friend that 
a new guy was already in place.  He was from another private school in the 
area and well respected, much younger than the previous administrator with a 
wife and kids in grade school.

It was like being on pins and needles as I anxiously waited a month or so for 
him to settle into his new position and then finally got the courage to go to 
his office one day and apply for my old position as I knew they hadn’t filled 
it.  Small wonder considering the pay was crap and most teachers can’t afford 
to work for what was virtually minimum wage with very few benefits.  In fact, 
I remembered in my original interview that they had spent as much time talking 
about my marriage opportunities as my credentials – obviously hoping this 
would be a ‘second job” in the family and I would have a husband’s salary and 
benefits to live on.


Chapter 2 – The First Interview
===============================

The sign next to the door said, “Mr. Eisenberg, School Administrator”.  I 
stood resolutely in front of it, my heart pounding like a jackhammer and my 
knees felt so weak I could hardly stand up.  His secretary had told me that he 
was waiting for me so this was it – make or break time.  The mere fact he’d 
even agreed to see me was a positive sign.  How much, if anything, had the 
previous administrator told him about me?  So far as I knew, none of the other 
staff members had a clue as to the real reason I’d left.  I’d told them it was 
a personal matter at home and they were polite enough to leave it at that, 
even if I could tell they were dying to know the details.  Now here I was 
again, portfolio in hand.  Taking a deep breath, I twisted the door knob and 
walked in like I owned the place.

Mr. Eisneberg was seated behind the old wooden desk – this wasn't exactly a 
state-of-the art building, not with the miniscule budget they had to operate 
under.  My first impression was he was a handsome, middle-age man, balding 
slightly at the sides although his hair was still dark.  He seemed to be of 
average build, several inches taller than me even with heels my on as he stood 
up to greet me and shake my hand.  His suit, while not expensive, was clean 
and hung on him well; off the rack, maybe Macy’s or JC Penney.  His smile 
seemed to be genuine and I felt a little bit of my apprehension fade away as 
he offered me a seat in one of the chairs lined up in front of his desk.

As I sat down and crossed my legs, Mr. Eisenberg’s eyes seemed to give me the 
once-over.  As befitting for this type of school, I was dressed quite 
conservatively, my skirt coming just below my knees but still allowing just a 
bit of thigh to show when I crossed my legs.  I had on an opaque white blouse 
with a floral vest that was left unbuttoned.  Underneath, I was even wearing a 
matching white bra and white nylon panties, so that should give you some idea 
how seriously I was taking this interview!  I made sure to tug on my skirt 
just a little to keep it from riding up too high– no need to make any wrong 
impressions.  Schools like these prided themselves on their conservatism and 
even a hint of impropriety might be enough to lose the job.

At this point I had no idea what Mr. Eisenberg was all about and the last 
thing I needed was for him to think me some type of slut.  The school was 
EXTREMELY conservative and when I’d taught here I had to buy pretty much an 
entire new wardrobe!  His eyes didn’t seem to linger too long at any point so 
there was nothing to make of it, at least not at this point.

The interview was pretty standard - a review of my college transcripts, board 
credentials, and home life.  Being a private Christian school, I was asked a 
number of questions no public school would have dared to ask – my testimony 
regarding my faith in God, my opinions on several political hot button issues 
such as abortion, and my present marital status – and intentions.  He then 
touched on my resignation and why I was returning.  Mr. Eisenberg seemed to 
accept my vague responses and unspoken plea for privacy, so long as it didn’t 
affect my credibility with regards to teaching at the school.

The entire interview lasted about an hour after which he shook my hand and 
said he would get back to me.  Typical closing words – don't call us, we’ll 
call you.  All in all, it was a completely standard interview, nothing much to 
write home about.  Actually, that in itself was encouraging.  I knew the 
school was desperate to hire someone and that applicants with my credentials 
were scarce, at least when it came to accepting what they had to offer.  
Unless something came up unexpectedly, I couldn’t see how he could afford to 
pass on me.


Chapter 3 – The Second Interview
================================

Later that week I received a phone call from Mr. Eisenberg’s secretary, asking 
me if I could come in for a follow-up interview.  That was a VERY good sign as 
it most likely meant I was someone they wanted and just had to clear up a few 
things.  It was exciting!  All I had to do was endure another hour at most, 
and the job would be mine... or so I thought.

Entering Mr. Eisenberg’s office for the second time was about the same as the 
first.  He greeted me as before, directed me to the same chair, gave me the 
same look-over and got right to the point.

“So Miss Wells, I’ve verified your credentials and talked with the staff about 
you.  I was quite impressed - everyone spoke very highly of you.”

So far so good but there was something about the look on his face that told me 
there was a “but” coming...

“But,” he said... I knew it!  

He paused, leaving me wondering what was coming, “I also called Mr. Wright to 
discuss your rather unique... shall we say... situation.”

My mind was racing a mile a minute now.  Mr. Wright was the previous 
administrator, the asshole that had fired me (or at least made me resign).  Oh 
no, what he had told Mr. Eisenberg about me?  Well, it couldn’t have been TOO 
bad or no doubt that I wouldn't have been asked in for a second interview.  
Yet somehow I couldn't imagine Mr.  Wright giving me a glowing reference 
either, not given the manner we parted ways last year.  He had made it pretty 
clear that as far as he was concerned, I would never teach again!

“You know, Mr. Wright had some every interesting things to say about you Miss 
Wells... some VERY interesting things I must say.”

I could only hope that my face didn’t betray the sick feeling that was forming 
in the pit of my stomach.  Oh my god, so the asshole HAD told Mr. Eisenberg 
about the real reason I’d left.  Even worse, I knew Mr.  Wright had not told 
me everything that Duane had told him, leaving me to squirm at the time and 
using it to hold over my head so I would resign.  What all had he told Mr. 
Eisenberg?  Yet if he had, why had I been asked in for a second interview?  
Was this some sort of sick practical joke, Mr.  Wright’s evil way at getting 
back at me for daring to apply now that he had left, his perverted way of 
showing me his vendetta against me was still on?

“So tell me Miss Wells... just how badly do you want this job?”

Now THAT was an interesting question.  Normally, you would think someone would 
ask why I wanted the job, not to explain “just how bad” I wanted it.  It was 
almost like he was asking me what would I do for it?  Now what did THAT mean?  
My gut tightened further as I imagined what it might be.

“I’m not really sure what you mean Mr. Eisenberg,” I stammered, stalling for 
time to figure out how to react to this unexpected turn of events.

“Oh I think you know Miss Wells... I think girls like you know VERY well what 
I mean.”

Hmmm, “girls like you”?  I had a pretty good idea of what he meant by that 
little slur and it didn’t bode well for me, or at least my hopes in securing 
this position.  

Knowing my history, some people might not understand why I was bothered so 
much by what was happening.  After all, I’d never been afraid to use my 
“assets” before to get a job or most anything else (even negotiating a car 
price or getting some computer help) but this was different.  This was my 
CAREER.  This was something that would be with me for the rest of my life, 
hopefully at least in that I planned to teach for a long time.  How naïve I 
had been to have assumed I could just return to my old job and someone erase 
the past.

Now what were Mr. Eisenberg’s intentions?  He certainly didn’t seem to be 
upset with me or angry.  If anything, he had this Cheshire Cat smile where his 
lips were tight together but the corners of his mouth curled up like he was 
some mischievous boy caught peeking up the skirt of a girl at school.  He 
seemed to be getting some sort of perverted kick out my discomfort.  NOT 
exactly the kind of smile you like to see on the person deciding your career’s 
future.

As for me, I wasn't accustomed to being in this situation.  After all, I was 
the one that was always in control, the one who called the shots.  Oh sure, 
sometimes I might let the guy THINK he was in control, but that was just me 
allowing him to THINK he was, not that he really was.  I has a pretty good 
idea where he was leading to so the question was how far did he intend to 
carry this out?  After all, he WAS married and he did have his own position to 
be concerned about.  Even a hint of what he had said to me so far could be 
enough to cost a man his job in this type of unyielding environment.

Well, there was one way to find out without jumping TOO far over the line.  
Staying seated in the chair, I simply uncrossed and then crossed my legs 
again, far slower than necessary and this time not tugging my skirt back down 
again but instead allowing it ride up higher than was “decent”, at least so 
far as THIS school was concerned.  It wasn't exactly a Sharon Stone moment, 
but it would have certainly been enough to get me thrown out on my cute butt 
with old Mr.  Wright!

“Well, it appears we both understand the seriousness of the situation,” Mr. 
Eisenberg said softly, putting his hands together with his fingertips pressed 
against one another as he leaned forward on his desk on his elbows to get a 
better look at me.

I twisted sideways in my chair such that the side of me with the most leg 
showing was easier for him to see.  I was rewarded by his eyes shifting to my 
bare thighs, my ass now barely concealed as I allowed the skirt to ride up 
even higher.

“Oh yes Miss Wells... I think you DO want the job, don't you?”

I just smiled at him and waited to see where he would go.  Was this enough?  
You never know with some men.  Sometimes just a tease is all they want, 
something to go home and masturbate about as they fantasize about what might 
have happened under different circumstances.  If this was all I had to do to 
prove my determination – show a little upper leg, then it would be the easiest 
I’d ever gotten out of such a situation.  Well, it WOULD have been the 
easiest...

“OK, I think you want the job, Miss Wells, but the questions is, how MUCH do  
you want it?”

Like, I’d been around the proverbial block enough times to know what THAT 
innuendo meant.  OK, if that’s how he wanted to play... I smiled demurely at 
him and slowly started to unbutton my blouse, each button seemingly almost 
impossible to undo as one by one they finally came loose, exposing a little 
more of my bra with each.  I left the blouse tucked in, allowing it to fall 
open but now as far it would have had to been loose.  Finally I had them all 
undone down to my skirt, the blouse now opening up just enough to reveal my 
white bra and plenty of cleavage.

“Hmmmmmm, very nice, Miss Wells... very nice indeed.  I see your ‘credentials’ 
are indeed flawless.”

It was all like a scene from a bad “B” movie or something.  Where things might 
have progressed to I'll never know because just then his intercom buzzed, 
practically scaring me out of my chair.  His secretary announced that his next 
appointment was waiting.  Frowning, he looked at me and then shrugged his 
shoulders, telling her that he would be done with me shortly.

“I’m sorry Miss Wells, I guess we’ll have to finish this interview another 
time,” he apologized.

Indeed, he really DID seem sorry about it and looking at his dress pants as he 
stood up, I could see why.  I quickly buttoned my blouse back up, then stood 
up and pulled my skirt down below my knees again.  All prim and proper once 
again!

“I'll be in touch with you soon Miss Wells,” he said, shaking my hand as if 
nothing untoward had just happened, “I would suggest that in the mean time you 
might want to think about how bad you want this job.  I might also need as 
closer look at your ‘credentials’ next time.”

God, where did he get these lines, some B-rated sex movie?  I left his office, 
smiling at the secretary as I departed.  We knew each other from when I was 
there before and she had always been very nice to me.  I wondered if she had 
any idea whatsoever what kind of man she was working for now?  Who knows, 
maybe she had to prove how bad she wanted her job as well?  Then again, she 
was about fifty so I doubted her “credentials” were as good as they use to be.

Back in the parking lot, I sat in my car and let out a long, slow breath.  Oh 
my god, what was I getting myself into?  Somehow I’d thought I would leave all 
the escorting, lingerie modeling, toy demonstrating crap behind me and start 
my teaching career anew, a new life being all prim and proper.  Sure, I’d 
always had fantasies about being the sexy school teacher and such but that’s 
ALL they were – fantasies.  Never in my craziest moments had I ever even 
imagined ever actually DOING any of the things I may have fantasized about.  
Yet here I was, not even officially hired and already I was acting like a 
slut.

In my defense, I was being given little option and it certainly wasn't MY 
idea, but did that make it OK?  Maybe I should just decline the offer to 
preserve my morals and ethics.  It may be common practice and indeed, an 
expectation to have to strip and what not for an escorting or stripper job, 
but not to be a teacher!  Yet at the same time, when would I have another 
opportunity like this one?  I had loved teaching her before and to come back 
would be a dream come true.

All I DID know was that despite all the emotional upheavals and uncertainties, 
my pussy was definitely wet as a result of all this carrying on.  Seeing Mr. 
Eisenberg’s eyes fixated on my thighs – and then on my chest, was definitely a 
turn-on, especially considering WHERE we were at the moment.  I'll be the 
first to admit that I love it when men look at me like that, even when I know 
I shouldn’t be encouraging it.  But then, how many girls would say otherwise 
if they were being honest?

I reached for my purse and keys, thinking about how good it would be to get 
home where I could strip out of these constricting clothes and masturbate.  
God I needed to do it so badly right now!  In fact, the more I thought about 
what had happened – and what MIGHT happen in the future, the hotter it made 
me.  Oh my god, I couldn't wait, I had to do something NOW.

I looked all around and noted that the parking lot was deserted.  It would be 
over an hour before school was out so nobody should be coming out for a while.  
One last look around and then I lifted my skirt up to my waist, then quickly 
pulled my panties down and over my knees, then over my heels, tossing them on 
the passenger seat next to me.  Just getting those damn things off was such a 
relief!  The warmth of the car seat felt so good on my bare ass as I leaned 
the seat back about half-way and relaxed.

God it always feels so good when I touch myself!  It was times like this when 
just the slightest touch of my finger was enough to set me off.  I gasped as 
my forefinger traced tight circles around my sensitive clit, teasing myself 
mercilessly.  Reaching lower, I could feel that my pussy was wet and my finger 
easily slid in, letting my palm rest on my clit as I moved my finger further 
inside of me.  Pulling it out quickly, I put my finger in my mouth and savored 
the fresh taste of my pussy.  God was I ever horny!  I had loved the taste of 
my pussy since the first time I “explored” myself way back when I was younger 
but it always tasted better when I was horny like I was now.

My free hand held my left breast through my blouse and bra.  I needed to get 
off – and fast, so I didn't bother undressing further.  It felt good just to 
hold my boob, pressing on it and squeezing it just enough to make it tingle.  
My wet finger was back in my pussy now, soon to be joined by a second as I 
finger- fucked myself.  Oh god... it felt incredible!  If only they were a 
real dick!

“Oh Mr. Eisenberg... fuck me... fuck me hard,” I whispered hoarsely as I 
envisioned myself underneath him as he prepared to violate me with his 
engorged cock.  “Oh yeah, deeper... all the way in me!” I cried out as I felt 
my orgasm already starting to arise within me.  Damn, it was as if my body 
couldn't wait to get off!

“Oh god, FUCK ME Mr. Eisenberg!” I cried out.

Thankfully there wasn’t anyone around as with my windows rolled down it must 
have been audible for at least a little ways.  My orgasm came crashing down on 
me, hitting me like a semi-truck broad-siding a car at an intersection, a 
massive, cataclysmic reaction!  Damn, that was quick!  It hadn’t taken hardly 
anything at all to get me off, but I was so damn horny it didn't surprise me.  
With my fingers pushed deep in me, I grabbed my hand that was in my pussy with 
the other, pressing it into me even further.  It was like being on the beach, 
the waves crashing into me one by one as my orgasm swelled and ebbed, then 
rose yet again.  Oh my, it was SO good!

Exhausted but feeling oh so much better, I collapsed in the seat, my hands 
cupping my hot pussy as I just laid there, trying to catch my breath.  It had 
hardly taken any time at all, but yet I felt like I’d just run a marathon.  My 
face felt like it was burning up and my entire body felt warm and sweaty.  
Wow, talk about needing it... I hadn’t realized just how badly I did.

Just then someone pulled into the parking lot so I straightened up my seat 
back and pulled my skirt down a bit.  I decided to leave my panties off – what 
was the point in putting them on just to drive home?  Besides, it always felt 
so much better to be bare-ass.  It only took me about twenty minutes or so to 
get back home but by the time I was there, I already had my free hand between 
my legs, ready to go for it again.  Parking the car in my favorite space, it 
was tempting to do myself again right then and there but with my apartment 
only a few steps away, why not wait another couple of minutes and do it right?

Less than five minutes layer I was undressed and laying naked on top of my 
bed, leaning back against a stack of pillows with my knees in the air, feet 
planted firmly on the bed, legs spread apart like a whore in heat.  Indeed, it 
was an apt description.  If Mr. Eisenberg wanted a whore... I would give him 
one, at least I did in my fantasies as I brought myself to another orgasm – 
and yet another before I was finally done.

The room was dark when I opened my eyes.  Wow, I must have crashed after who 
knows how long I had been masturbating.  Talk about being horny!  I giggled a 
little at myself as usually it was the GUY who fell asleep after sex but then, 
given how long I’d masturbated and how many times I’d come, I think it as safe 
to say that I’d earned it.  As I got up to take a shower, I started to think 
again about the day’s events – and my reaction to it.

Crap, what had I done?  It was bad enough that I’d gone along with the charade 
and showed off my legs and bra to him; but to masturbate in the parking later 
– and then for hours after I got home fantasizing more about it?  This wasn’t 
how this was suppose to have gone today.  Indeed, I had assumed it would be a 
short interview, a handshake congratulating me and then a triumphant call on 
the way home to my best friends trumpeting my success.  They all knew where I 
was going this afternoon so now what did I tell them?  Not that it would shock 
them but I had really hoped to impress them with my getting the job WITHOUT 
being slut.

By the time the shower was over I’d rationalized everything pretty well.  Sure 
Mr. Eisenberg had known about me but he just wanted to tease me a bit before 
giving me the job.  It was probably a favor to the old administrator.  The 
school HAD to fill the position and so far as I knew, I was the only candidate 
so he HAD to hire me sooner or later.  Most likely the next call I would get 
would be to tell me I had “passed” my final interview and then offer me the 
job.

Yep, everything was going to be alright... just the way I’d planned.


Chapter 4 - Preparing For My Final “Interview”
===============================================

It was two days before I got THE phone call.  Two days of suspense, second- 
guessing, and increasing worry.  Two days of stalling my prying friends who 
were anxious to know if I had my old job back or not.  Two days of putting off 
my dad’s repeated questions.  Two LONG days.  Two centuries it seemed.

When it finally DID come, it was a surprise because I didn’t recognize the 
number on the caller ID.  All my previous contacts had been from the school 
secretary and so I had her name and number in my address book.  As it turned 
out, it wasn't the secretary who called me but Mr. Eisenberg himself.  That 
was unusual and the alarms started to go off in my head.

“Hello Miss Wells, I was just calling to see if we could finish your final 
interview.  I apologize for the interruption last time.  Things seemed to be 
going well and I am sure with just a little more time I can make a final 
determination on your application.”

So far... so good.

“With all the interruptions at the school, I thought it might be best to meet 
somewhere else, if that’s OK with you.”

Really, what could I say?  As if I had any option other to say that is was 
fine with me.

“Great, how about lunch at the Holiday Inn across from the mall, say Sunday at 
noon?  I hear they have a great brunch on Sundays.”

That took me a little by surprise.  An interview for a Christian school 
position on a Sunday?  My church services were usually done by 11:30 so that 
wouldn't be a problem but still...Again, what choice did I have?

“Great, look forward to see in you there – a lot more of you.  I hope you’ve 
been thinking about what I suggested.”

Not exactly subtle, was he?

I hung up the phone and tossed it on my bed.  What the heck was I getting 
myself into now?  Under any other circumstances it would have been like a 
dream come true – meeting a married man at a hotel restaurant, knowing he had 
the hots for me.  But this was different.  This wasn't ME making the call.  
This wasn't ME luring him from his bitchy wife, pushing him and teasing him 
until his willpower collapsed and he caved in to his more primal desires.  
This time I was the one being played.  He was holding something near and 
precious to me over my head – my teaching career.  Being blackmailed somehow 
took the eroticism out of the situation.  How would I explain this to my 
father?  I sort of doubted that he would be proud of his daughter for getting 
her new job in this way.  Sure, he was proud of me for being a slut, but that 
was when it came to teasing the guys, not professionally.  

The answer was simple – I wouldn't tell him!  I normally never kept secrets 
from my father but this was one time I simply couldn't tell him the truth.  
When I got the job – and I knew I would, no matter WHAT I may have to do to 
get it, he would be proud of me and the issue of HOW I got it would probably 
never come up.

Sunday morning arrived before I knew it and I woke up to the blaring of my 
alarm clock.  Dang it, I had to get going!  I only had an hour to get to my 
dad’s if there was going to be time for our “Sunday morning tradition” and I 
had so much to get ready.

Last night I’d prepared two outfits for today, one for church and one for my 
“interview”.  It would have been fun to wear the second one to church as well 
– a pink mini-dress with plunging cleavage and the tiniest spaghetti straps 
barely keeping it over my boobs.  I loved it especially because it made my 
boobs look great!  It wasn't the shorter dress in my closet but it was one of 
the shorter ones, just long enough for me to go without panties without having 
to worry about being arrested for public exposure!  Yet as much as I loved it 
– and I knew my dad did too, it wouldn't have gone over well in church, at 
least not publicly.  I’m sure most of the men, and maybe some of the women, 
would have appreciated it but odds were I would’ve been asked to leave before 
even getting in the sanctuary!  

So in addition to the pink dress, I picked out a longer black skirt and white 
blouse, an outfit similar to the one I’d worn to my last job interview in 
fact.  It was still enough to draw some glares from more than a few of the 
older ladies in the church, but they didn't bother me considering the 
appreciative stares I got from the men!

One thing I’ve always prided myself on and that is the ability to get myself 
ready quickly.  I know so many girls that make it an ordeal to get themselves 
ready, spending hours in the bathroom doing lord knows what.  In just 45 
minutes I’d showered, shaved, done my hair and makeup, and was looking in the 
mirror to check out my dress!

My pussy tingled as I imagined my dad waiting for me.  We had been doing this 
for years now, a quickie before church.  The idea was to do it as close to 
leaving for church as possible, after we had dressed and were about to go.  It 
wasn't a time for extensive petting and such, just a quick fucking with him 
cumming inside of me.  The idea was first, by cumming in me it kept my outfit 
clean; and second, it also meant that when we sat in the pews I was holding 
load of his fresh cum inside of me, often times even leaking out a bit!  It 
was what I call true wholesome family fun – a father-daughter thing that we 
had turned into a sort of tradition and it was a rare Sunday we skipped our 
brief time together.

Pulling into the driveway, I recognized the car at the bottom of the driveway 
in front of the garage.  Dang it, my Aunt Linda was already here.  For that 
matter, maybe she had spent the night.  In recent months she had been spending 
more and more time with my dad.  At first I had been a bit jealous, feeling 
like it was sort of a betrayal of my mother but I realized that that my dad 
had needs too.  Now with my mom gone I guess it was only natural for him and 
Aunt Linda to be closer.  After all, they had been high school sweethearts at 
one time and he HAD been fucking her ever since, even if he DID end up 
marrying her older sister instead of her.  Still, Sunday mornings were our 
special time together and she knew that so why was she here?

I went in through the garage entry and was surprised to see my Aunt standing 
there waiting for me.  She gave me a smile and a hug and then turned to me.

“Now don't worry Kelly, I know what you must be thinking.  Yes, I did spend 
the night but don’t worry, I know what this time means to you – and him, so I 
would never DREAM of getting the way.  He’s upstairs so go do your thing.”

I kissed her on the cheek and headed upstairs.  Now THAT hadn’t turned out so 
bad.  I checked my watch... dang it, we would have to hurry if we were going 
to get to church on time!  Fortunately, my dad was waiting for me in the 
foyer, in his suit and all ready for church.  So many people dressed causal 
for church these days but my dad was still as it and tie guy.  It was his turn 
to look at his watch and he shook his head while grinning at me.

“Cutting it a little close, aren’t we baby?” he chuckled as he unzipped his 
pants and pulled out his dick, “You’d better get to work!”

My dad was already semi-erect which pleased me more than he may have known.  
It was good to know after all these years that my dad could still get an 
erection in anticipation of fucking me!  I quickly got down to my knees, the 
Oriental floor runner cushioning me as I knelt in front of his dick, almost 
like I was praying.  His dick was soon in my mouth and he groaned as I took 
all of it in.  

“That’s my girl... that’s my precious daughter... suck your daddy’s cock.  God 
you look so beautiful with my dick in your mouth.”

I looked up at him and our eyes met as I kept his dick firmly in my mouth.  My 
heart swelled as I saw him looking down at me, watching me suck his dick.  He 
looked so happy and that made me feel so good inside, knowing I was fulfilling 
my duties as his daughter, pleasing my dad as only a daughter can please her 
father.  Sure, having any girl suck his cock would be good, but I knew it had 
to be special for him to look down and see his own daughter taking his dick in 
her mouth.

There wasn't a lot of time for foreplay and he seemed pretty horny so I 
figured we’d better get to it.  I dropped his dick from my mouth and stood up, 
turning away from him towards the stairs leading to the second floor.  I 
balanced myself holding the railing as I raised one foot to the first step, 
exposing my bare ass to him as I lifted my skirt up – no panties of course!

“God you have such a sweet little ass!” he hissed as he reached under the 
skirt to hold me by my bare hips.

Mmmmmmm, I could feel the head of his hard dick pressing against my exposed 
bottom.  It may not have been as little as it was back when I was sixteen and 
he first started fucking me, but I was still pretty proud of it and he knew 
it, always making sure to compliment me about it.

“Oh daddy... yes!” I cried out softly as I felt the wonderful sensation of my 
father’s incestuous erection entering me.

I was already soaking wet with anticipation which allowed his cock head to 
easily penetrate me, pushing its way all the up in me until I felt the hairy 
bush of his crotch against my naked ass.  There was no time to waste and so he 
started pumping it in and out of me, not saying a word at first as he 
concentrated on his dick inside of me, his wonderful dick inside of his 
adoring daughter.

“Fuck me daddy... fuck me and show me that you really still love me,” I 
repeated over and over as he huffed and puffed from the exertion.  After all, 
he wasn't a teenager anymore!

“Yeah baby... daddy’s gonna cum in you, daddy’s gonna fuck that tight little 
cunt of yours and fill you with his cum.”

“Oh daddy, I want it... I want your cum in me..., fuck me daddy...  please 
fuck me more!  Love me daddy!”

“Ohhhhhh!” he groaned as I felt him ram it extra hard in me and hold himself 
still in me as his hips thrust into me over and over, each time with a load of 
his incestuous cum spurting from him and depositing itself inside of me. 

God I loved this most of all, feeling him cumming in me, leaving a part of 
himself in me.  I loved knowing I was making him do it, that he lusted for me 
enough to cum in me... to literally mate with his only daughter.  

“That’s it daddy, give it to me,, give me your cum daddy, show me how much you 
love me daddy... show me how much you love me.”

Indeed, what more can a father do to demonstrate his true love for his 
daughter than to enter her and cum inside of her?  It was the ultimate act of 
love - and respect.  Sex is the most perfect way for a father and daughter to 
be together, the most natural and proper way.

Just as fast as he’d cum, it was over.  When he pulled his already dwindling 
dick out of me it was like there was this empty place inside of me, like 
something was missing.  But I smiled as I felt his incestuous cum draining 
from me, serving as a memory of what he had just done to me, a physical symbol 
of a father’s love for his daughter.  

“We’d better get going or we’ll be late for church,” he warned me, tucking his 
still almost soft cock into his pants and zipping them up.

“Dang it daddy, you really came a lot in me!” I exclaimed as I reached down 
and used my fingers to wipe off some of the cum that had started to run down 
my inner thigh.  

Mmmmmmm, it tasted so good!  Actually, I was more than a little surprised he 
HAD cum so much in me.  I would’ve thought he had fucked Aunt Linda this 
morning but obviously they didn't do it for some reason.  My heart burst as I 
considered how really sweet it was of the two of them to let him save it all 
for me!

All ready again, I followed my dad downstairs where Linda was waiting 
impatiently, arms folded and foot tapping.  She looked at her watch 
melodramatically and shook her head.

“Well, looks like we’re going to be late now, I hope it was worth it.”

She was just teasing and I knew it.  Grinning proudly, I pulled up my skirt 
and spread my legs, then reached down and used my fingers to get some of the 
cum that had drained from me as I had made my way downstairs.

“Oh my, don't you think you should wear some panties girl?” she asked me, 
shaking her head, “You know, you’re getting to be as bad as your cousin!”

“Getting?” my dad laughed and we all had to laugh together at that.

We drove separately as I told my dad I had a lunch date after church.  He 
didn't question me as to who it was with – and I didn't volunteer so that went 
over pretty easily.  It WAS the truth after all, just maybe not ALL the truth.

Sitting towards the front of church (our penalty for being late), I could feel 
his cum draining from me even more.  It was tempting to lift my skirt and 
reach in for another taste but THAT wouldn't have been very smart in the 
middle of a crowded church, especially with the pastor just a few feet in 
front of us.

With my skirt being so dark I just had to hope that any wet spots wouldn’t 
show through.  Then again, I would be changing as soon as the service was over 
anyway so who cared?  It was hard to concentrate on the service with the 
sensations of my freshly fucked pussy converging with the anticipation of what 
might happen after church.

I wondered what the guy sitting next to me in the pew would have thought had 
he known what was going through my mind - and out my pussy, as we stood next 
to each other and sang the next hymn.  Even better, imagine if he knew WHO’S 
cum was still draining from me!

Fortunately the service finished on time and I gave my dad and Aunt Linda a 
kiss goodbye.  Rushing to my car, I actually drove back to his house, knowing 
they would be heading out for dinner before returning.  Changing in the car 
would have been crazy so I just ran inside long enough to slip on my other 
dress.  First, though, I went to the bathroom to clean off my cum-encrusted 
pussy.  All- in-all, I was pretty much a mess and the last thing I thought Mr. 
Eisenberg would like would be to see my pussy coated with another man’s cum!  
Funny thing is, without actually thinking about it I’d apparently already 
decided that he would be seeing my pussy!  Hmmm, I wonder what else I would be 
doing before the day was over?  I think I had a pretty good idea!


Chapter 4 – How Bad Did I Want the Job?
=======================================

It was a few minutes after noon when I drove up to the hotel and searched 
frantically for a parking spot.  The “after church” lunch crowd was already 
there in force and so I ended up way out in back before I finally found a 
place to squeeze into.  Turning off the ignition, as late as I was I sat there 
for a moment with both hands firmly gripping the steering wheel, eyes closed 
as I prayed and try to prepare myself for what I assumed was about to happen.

It’s funny how the same actions and events can have totally different results, 
simply because of the circumstances involved.  Had I been here to meet some 
husband from church, perhaps cheating on his wife and anxious to do about 
anything to spend the afternoon with me, I would have been excited and wet 
with anticipation.  Yet here I was, basically about to do exactly just that, 
yet somehow I felt more anxious than excited, dirty instead of slutty, 
resigned versus horny.  Definitely NOT excepted and wet.

For a girl who prided herself on being a slut, I certainly wasn't feeling very 
good about myself now.  Maybe it was because this job meant so much to me.  
I’d dreamed for most of my life of being a teacher, worked hard in school, 
sacrificed so much to achieve my goal and now, just as I was about to reach 
it, I found myself having to use my body instead of my credentials to realize 
my dream.  Had it been any other job or position I wouldn't have hesitated a 
bit to use every “asset” I had – hey, why not use what you got?  This was 
special though, this was about me becoming a teacher based on my credentials 
and skills, not my looks and sexual skills.

Yet in the end, what option did I have?  Sure, I could get all high and mighty 
and claim I was sticking to my morals.  That would mean walking away from this 
job and waiting for who knows how long before something else opened up.  The 
last thing I wanted was to spend another school year stripping and modeling 
lingerie while I watched kids going off to school, knowing I wasn't in front 
of the class teaching them.  I mean, like I was 24 now and not getting any 
younger.  It was time to get my career started.  Besides, it wasn’t like Mr. 
Eisenberg was all that bad.  He WAS pretty good looking and I was sure he 
would be extremely discreet as he had far more to lose than I did if any of 
this ever became public knowledge.

I bowed my head, said a final quick prayer, and took a deep breath.  Letting 
it out slowly, I put my head back and opened my eyes, filled with a new 
determination.  If this was what it took, a few hours of letting some pervert 
have his way with me, then what was the big deal anyway?  No matter what 
happened, by the time I ate supper it would all be over and the job would be 
mine.  If anything, on the bright side I figured my job security would be 
pretty good considering the “goods” I would have on Mr. Eisenberg after today!

Stepping out of my car, I tried to pull my hem down as my dress had ridded up 
to my waist as I drove.  It was then I noticed a family walking by, the 
parents with the standard issue two kids, a boy and girl that looked to be in 
their young teens.  I couldn't help but smile as the mother turned the boy’s 
head from me as he must have noticed my brief “flash” as I stepped out of my 
car.  Boy... if looks could kill, hers would have melted me down on the spot!  
The husband was eyeing me as well so I just grinned at him and clutched my 
purse as I followed them into the hotel lobby.  

The restaurant was off to one side and I was about to head down the hall when 
I heard someone calling my name.  I looked and there seated in the lobby, was 
Mr. Eisenberg.  He was getting to his feet and gesturing for me to come over 
to him.

“Hello Miss Wells, glad to see you showed up.  I wasn’t sure after out last 
interview if you really wanted the position or not.”

Yeah right, like there was any doubt.  His eyes were running up and down my 
body, noticeably pausing as he took in my boobs and legs.  God, what a perv!  
But then, a girl doesn't wear a dress like the one I had on unless she WANTS a 
guy to do just what he was doing!  After all, what was the point of dressing 
like a slut if nobody noticed?

“So shall we go have lunch now?” I suggested, gesturing with my hand towards 
the restaurant entrance where people were lining up to be seated.

Although I’d never eaten brunch here, I’d heard it was good and judging from 
the crowd, the rumors were apparently true.  We would probably have to wait a 
half hour or so just to be seated.

“Well... I wanted to talk to you about that,” he said slowly, barely audible 
even though I was right up next to him now.  “I’m not so sure it’s a good idea 
for the two of us to be seen together in public – especially dressed the way 
you are.  Not that I don’t like it of course.  It does a fine job of showing 
off... your ‘credentials’, you know what I mean?”

My eyes narrowed at him, as if I was surprised by what he was saying.  Sheesh, 
back to those horrible lines again.  Couldn't he say anything without using 
such tired old crappy clichés?  Actually, what WOULD have surprised me the 
most would have been if we actually DID have lunch in public like this.  Odds 
were SOMEONE would see us and then the gossip would start.  I’m sure the last 
thing he needed was someone asking his wife why he was seeing a new teacher at 
a Sunday brunch – a teacher wearing the sluttiest dress in the room.

“But I thought we were going to do my final interview?” I asked, pretending to 
not know where he was going with this.  Like, I would have to have been a 
totally idiot not to know already.

“Well, I just thought we could do it somewhere... more private,” he suggested.  
Then he finally came out with it and said, “I booked a room where we can do 
your interview without drawing too much attention.  Is that OK with you?”

Shrugging, I tried to look as if I had to make a decision but in reality, this 
was all going exactly the way I’d expected.  I mean if you think a guy invites 
you to a hotel for an interview where you are expected to show “how bad” you 
want a job just to have a discussion over lunch, then you’re too dumb to be 
teaching!

“Sounds good to me, I’m sure you’ll be impressed,” I replied with a naughty 
little smile.  It was just enough to let him know I was “in” on his plans, 
even if he hadn’t come right out and stated them.

“Great, let’s get going then.”

I followed him to the elevators as he looked around to make sure nobody was 
watching us.  For him, the was probably the most “dangerous” moment where 
someone might see him getting into the elevator with me.  It would be awfully 
hard to explain to his wife, that was for sure!  As it was, we entered the 
elevator alone and he pressed the button for our floor.  Neither of us said a 
word as it took us up and the doors opened again.  Mr. Eisenberg led me down 
the hall to the room, never even looking at me as he opened the door and 
walked in with me trailing close behind like a puppy dog.

As I stepped inside the room, I could see it was your standard issue Holiday 
Inn – two double beds, a TV mounted to the dresser with a small round table 
and two chairs next to it.  It was pretty warm and stuffy so he turned on the 
AC unit under the window.  It was pretty loud but I could feel the blast of 
cool air almost immediately.

Mr. Eisenberg turned and stood there across the room from me, both of us quiet 
as we waited for the other to make the first move.  If there was one thing I 
was sure of though, HE was going to be the one to initiate anything.  It was 
bad enough I was essentially whoring myself out for a job.  The least he could 
do is leave me with no option so I wouldn't have to wonder forever afterwards 
if I could’ve possibly gotten by without doing what I knew I would likely have 
to do.  

“Well, well Miss Wells, so here we are.”

I stood there silently, smiling at him to try to put him at ease but otherwise 
waiting for him to continue.

“I think we both know what this ‘interview’ is really all about, don't we,” he 
said quietly , more a statement than a question.  I just nodded slightly and 
waited for more.

“I just want you to know I’ve never done anything like this before,” he said, 
suddenly looking a little unsure of himself.

“So why now then?” I asked softly, “We can stop now... nothing has happened 
yet.”

Mr. Eisenberg sighed and I could see the struggle that was within him.  In a 
way, I could sympathize with him.  I’d been in similar situations before where 
it all seemed so hot and wild to talk about something and even fantasize about 
it; but when it came to the actual DOING of it, that’s when the reality sank 
in.

“Maybe we should forget about all of this,” he said, “I don't know what I was 
thinking.”

Suddenly I felt this surge of anger.  Damn him anyway.  He’d put me through 
all this and now he was going to chicken out, I just knew it.  Odds were he 
would then find some excuse not to hire me and then it would be my word 
against his as to why he’d changed his mind – and who would believe me over 
him, especially if he revealed anything about why I’d left in the first place.

“How bad do you want the job?” 

Yes, that was the question he had left me with in his office and now I was 
ready to show him.  Indeed, I wanted the job and I wanted it BAD – so bad I’d 
resigned to whoring myself to get it.  Now this idiot thought he could just 
change his mind and back out of the deal?  Noooooo, I don't think so.

One thing about this pink dress, it not only didn't hide very much, but it 
barely stayed on me so when I wanted to take it off, all it took was a quick 
shake of my upper body to let the straps fall off my shoulders and the whole 
thing would slip down to the floor.  That’s exactly what I did now – a little 
shake and the next thing he knew I was standing there totally naked in front 
of him.  Well, not TOTALLY if you count my jewelry and heels but close enough.  
His eyes bugged out and his mouth dropped open like a fish out of water before 
he caught himself and took a deep breath.

“Now Mr. Eisenberg, you told me in your office that you wanted me to prove how 
much I wanted the position... so what do you think?”

“Miss Well...” he stammered, “please put your dress back on.  I’m serious... 
please stop right now.”

“Oh come now Mr. Eisenberg,” I purred as I put one bare leg up on the bed and 
cupped my naked crotch with my hand, “I saw how you looked at me.  I bet 
you’ve been dreaming all week of seeing me like this, haven’t you?”

It was like he was frozen place, unable to move.  I knew his brain was telling 
him to leave the room, FAST, before he did something he could never undo.  At 
the same time, I saw the unmistakable signs of an erection starting to form 
under his suit pants and I knew what was happening.  It was a classic struggle 
between the big head and little head.  I knew well that as the little head 
grew in size and strength, it would soon overwhelm the big head.

It was like I was a mercenary supplying arms to the resistance.  All I had to 
do was help his dick gain control and he would be mine.  It was just too easy, 
like shooting fish in a barrel as I knew exactly what to do.

“My pussy’s so hot right now... it’s soooooo wet,” I teased him naughtily, “It 
wants YOU Mr. Eisenberg... don’t you want it?”

Oh he wanted it, that was obvious.  Like what man wouldn’t want a 24 year-old 
pussy as the girl played with herself in front of him?  From the family 
pictures I’d seen in his office, it wasn’t like his wife was all that frumpy, 
but I bet she’d never looked like I did right now and odds were she never 
masturbated in front of him either – as I started to do for him.  

“Mmmmmmm, it’s so wet Mr. Eisenberg, I’ve been thinking all week about you... 
about you and me... about you fucking me.”

He visibly winced when I said “fucking me”, as if I’d exposed his secret 
desires.  I WAS wet - and getting wetter by the minute, but it wasn’t so much 
my finger that I now had pressed inside my pussy that was turning me on..  it 
was his eyes fixated on my bare crotch as I did it that had me going.  Oh 
yeah, he wanted me... he wanted me bad.  It was time to get him involved a 
little more...

Putting my leg back down, I put my finger that had been in m pussy up to my 
mouth and licked my pussy wetness from it before putting it in my mouth and 
sucking the rest off.  He looked so turned on and I knew he was ready for the 
next thing I had in mind for him.  Moving up close to him, I reached down and 
started unbuckling his belt.  His hands instantly went over mine, trying to 
stop me with a half-hearted effort.

“This has to stop now Miss Wells... now!” he burst out.

The fervor of his words weren't exactly matched by the strength in his hands.  
As big as he was compared to me, he could have easily stopped me had he REALLY 
wanted to but instead I was able to push him aside and soon his belt was 
undone.  Next was the button and the zipper as his hands hung limply to his 
side, making no further effort to stop me.  I pulled his pants down, together 
with his white jockey shorts, to his ankles.  His dick was maybe half to 
three-quarters erect by now and it stuck out past the tails of his dress 
shirt, the head poking out like a gopher checking out the area before emerging 
from his hole.

I kneeled in front of him and grabbed his dick with my hand.  Mmmmmmm, it felt 
so warm!  He wasn't exactly steel rod hard yet but the promise of near-future 
stiffness was definitely there.  I looked up at him and our eyes met.

“You asked me how much I wanted the job Mr. Eisenberg,” I told him in a husky 
whisper, “Now I’m going to show you...  and then you’re going to give me the 
job.”

He looked like he wanted to say something, maybe protest a little but it was 
too late for him now, he was mine My hand on his dick may as well have been 
around his neck.  He knew I was about to suck his dick and at this moment 
there was nothing more in the world that he wanted other than to feel my lips 
caressing his cock, my tongue playing over his shaft as I took his stiff cock 
in my mouth.

“Oh my god,” he whimpered, almost choking on his words as I took his dick in 
my mouth and began to work on it with my lips and tongue, “That feels 
incredible... so good.”

His words were like music to my ears.  If there’s one thing I love to do, it’s 
suck dick and to hear a man tell me how much he enjoys it, how good I am at 
sucking him... well who doesn’t like to be complimented on their skills?  
Actually, he seemed even more appreciative than I would have expected this 
early on and suddenly a thought struck me!

“Doesn’t your wife suck your dick Mr. Eisenberg?” I asked, stroking his now 
wet dick as I looked up at him quizzically.

“Hell no, she never has... she says oral sex is dirty, sinful,” he gasped.  
His hips were making little mini-thrusts, as if he was trying to hint at me to 
take it back in my mouth again.

“So you’ve NEVER had a BJ before?” I asked in incredulously.  He just shook 
his head as if he was too embarrassed to answer.  Wow, a BJ virgin!  Now this 
I hadn’t expected.

Back to his dick I went with a renewed determination to make his first blowjob 
a memorable one – as if it wouldn't be no matter HOW I sucked him.  It amazed 
me in this day and age that a man his age had never had his dick sucked, not 
even as a teenager.  Like, there are so many different parties these days 
where girls do BJs for fun that I don't see how any boy can NOT get blown if 
he really wants it.

Although Mr. Eisenberg wasn’t THAT old, I wasn't sure what his recovery time 
would be so I didn’t want him to cum after just a BJ.  Yet at the same time, I 
wanted him to enjoy it as much as possible.  I wanted him to see what a good 
BJ I could give.  Who knows, maybe someday he might get another and I didn’t 
want him to think it was better than mine!

His dick was full grown now, as stiff as it was going to get.  His crotch had 
this thick musky odor that a man gets when he is really horny and turned on.  
My hand cupped his hairy balls, softly rolling them between my fingers as my 
other hand rubbed my pussy.  I always loved to touch myself while I blew a 
cock – like getting a “two-fer”.

As I said, as much as I enjoyed sucking his dick, I didn’t want to spend all 
afternoon waiting for it to get hard again so I stopped short of him cumming.  
When I dropped his dick out of my mouth and stood up, he seemed almost heart- 
broken as no doubt he had been imagining himself cumming in my mouth.  Well, 
not today – at least not yet.  His sadness melted, though, when he heard my 
next words.

“So your wife hates oral sex, huh?”

He just nodded with a frown on his face.  

“So you’ve never tasted a pussy before?”

“Well, not directly,” he stuttered.  I figured that meant he must have tasted 
it on his fingers or something like that after he’d touched her pussy.

“Didn't any of the other girls you dated suck your dick?”

My wife and I saved ourselves for marriage,” he replied, a note of pride 
seeping into his voice.

Why people felt proud about foregoing sex before marriage was beyond me but 
hey, it that’s what he wanted then I respected him for it.  Still, that meant 
I was only the second girl he’d had sex with!  Cool!

“Well, I want you to lick my pussy now Mr. Eisenberg,” I said in a soft but 
demanding tone, “I want to feel your tongue on my hot wet cunt.”

Much as I usually steer away from the “c” word, it seemed to turn him on for 
me to be a little more “dirty” for him.  No doubt his wife never even called 
hers a pussy in front of him, let alone a cunt.

He didn't say a word as I stepped back to the bed.  I pulled off the comforter 
(who knows WHAT I son those filthy things!) and laid back against the pillows, 
lifting my knees so my feet were flat on the bed with my feet spread far apart 
do my pussy was on full display for him.  He just stood at the edge of the 
bed, staring at me as I started to play with myself again for him.

“You like my little pussy Mr. Eisenberg?” I asked him in my best “little girl” 
voice.  “I bet it’s tighter than your wife’s.  Does she shave her pussy like 
mine?”

He didn't answer, instead he just watched as I used both hand to touch myself, 
opening my pussy, spreading my lips apart as I toyed with my clit and used two 
fingers inside of me to masturbate for him.  God, I was so damn horny by now!  
Really, I would’ve much rather he just got down and fucked me now instead of 
an amateurish pussy licking but then whole point of doing all this was to 
demonstrate to him how bad I wanted the job, not my own personal satisfaction.  
Hopefully he liked the look of my “credentials”!

“Lick my cunt Mr. Eisenberg,” I invited him.  Mmmmmmm, I was so close to 
having my own orgasm by now that it wouldn't take much to set me off now - 
even a first- timer would be enough.  Now if he would just hurry and get to 
it!

Mr. Eisenberg was still half-dressed so first he took off his shoes and socks, 
followed by his blue tie, white dress shirt and white cotton t-shirt.  Now he 
was nude and I have to say, not bad looking... not bad at all!  The thing that 
most interested me, his dick, was still ramrod hard as it pointed upward 
without any assistance.  God was he horny as well!  Working his way onto the 
bed, Mr. Eisenberg got between my legs and laid down on his elbows with his 
lower legs and feet hanging off the end of the bed.  He started to caress my 
inner thighs, a part of me that LOVES to be softly touched!

“You have the most sensational legs Miss Wells,” he complimented me.

By now I’d had enough of this “Miss Wells” thing so I corrected him, telling 
him to call me Kelly.  

“That’s my wife’s name – Miss Kelly,” he explained, his eyes suddenly looking 
up as if he was worried something would come down from heaven and strike him 
down.

Ahhhhhh... so THAT was why he kept calling me that.  It was one thing to have 
sex with another women for the first time, but to have it with a girl whose 
name was the same as his wife’s was undoubtedly a little weird for him.  Well, 
at least he didn’t have to worry about calling out my name should he fantasize 
about me the next time he and his wife had sex!  Guess it also made it easy 
for him to keep track of the names of the girls he had fucked.

Without further discussion, he lowered his head to my crotch and tentatively 
reached out with his tongue to touch my pussy.  Fortunately, he manage to hit 
my hyper-sensitive clit dead-on the first time, making me jump just a little 
as it sent out a jolt of electricity throughout my body.

“Ohhhhhh,” I moaned, no pretending required.  Indeed, there is nothing better 
on my clit than a warm wet tongue.

As it turned out, he really wasn't all that bad at licking me, especially 
considering he’d never done it before.  Of course, it didn’t hurt that I’d 
worked myself up so well ahead of time that he could’ve done just about 
anything and I would’ve gotten off.  Indeed, when he had his tongue just 
inside of my pussy, his nose pressed against my clit, I DID have my first 
orgasm of the afternoon.  My hips thrust up against this face as I wrapped my 
legs around his head, pulling him into me, not wanting his tongue to stop 
touching me.

“Oh fuck I’m cumming Mr. Eisenberg,” I panted, barely able to say the words as 
my orgasm overwhelmed me, “You’re making me cum so good!  You make me feel so 
good!”

God... I wanted him to fuck me.  Heck, I NEEDED him to fuck me.

My orgasm was slowly dwindling but I couldn’t wait any longer.  It was no 
longer a question of “demonstrating how much I wanted the job” or proving my 
“credentials” or any of that crap.  It had nothing to do with his sweet wife 
sitting at home, unaware of her husband’s adulterous acts with me.  No, this 
was for ME.  It was like I felt I would just die if his dick wasn't in me – 
and in me as fast as possible.  My pussy was almost cramping with the 
anticipation of a warm dick inside and all I knew was I desperate to feel him 
fuck me, fuck me hard and then cum inside of me.

“Fuck me Mr. Eisenberg!” I begged him.  

There was nothing fake about it, nothing for a show, nothing to get him off.  
It was all me wanting it now.  

“PLEASE fuck me,” I pleaded, wanting him in me so badly.  

God, why wouldn't he fuck me?

Finally he mounted me missionary style, probably the only position he’d ever 
fucked his wife.  His face was wet with my pussy cum and his eyes had that 
look of lust that appears when a man is at that state where the only option is 
sex.  Indeed, he didn't hesitate for even a second.  Not for a moment did he 
question what he was doing, the seriousness of the act he was about to commit.  

If it bothered the jerk to commit adultery for the first time in his life, you 
would have been hard-pressed to know it.  At this moment, I imagined about the 
last thing on his mind was the other Kelly in his life, his wife and life-
partner.  His vows to her were forgotten.  Mmmmmmm, I knew at this moment he 
wanted to fuck ME - and only ME.

“That’s it, put it in me,” I gasped as I felt the head of his dick trying to 
find it’s place at the entrance to my pussy.

Once he was there I knew all it would take was one big push from him and he 
would be in me, fucking me like he’d never fucked another girl before.  He 
fumbled with his dick, obviously nervous and anxious at the same time, 
unwittingly driving me insane as my pussy craved the feeling of his cock.  
Damn, find it for god’s sake!  It’s not like I was all dry and shrunken and 
hard to fuck.  My pussy was soaking wet and ready, as ready as it ever would 
be.  Fuck!  Would he EVER fuck me?

FINALLY!

I felt the tip of his dick slip barely into me, the mere suggestion of his 
cock at the entrance to my slutty pussy enough to practically make me cum 
again.  What the hell was taking him so damn long?  Surely he wanted to fuck 
me as bad I wanted him too.  Why didn’t he just fuck me and get it over with?  
Any thoughts of why I was there vanished, any feelings of guilt or remorse had 
long since evaporated.  The truth of the matter was that I didn't give a damn 
about him anymore at this point.  All I could think about, all my mind could 
comprehend, was the feeling of that cock just barely in ME, about ME wanting 
it all the way, all the way inside of ME.  Damn I needed to be fucked SO bad!  
Fuck ME damn it!

“OH YES!” I cried out as without warning his dick suddenly rammed it’s way 
deep inside of my cunt.

Once he finally had it right he simply grunted as he pushed hard and forced 
his wonderfully hard dick all the way into me in one fast movement.  Mmmmmmm, 
it felt SO much better to feel him in me, like I was now complete, like a 
missing part of me was had returned and taken its rightful place.  The 
prodigal son had returned and my pussy was putting on a party for him to 
celebrate!

“Damn, you’re so fucking tight!” he whispered between heavy breaths as he 
started to pump me like an oil rig.

Now that was music to any girl’s ears!  I may not be sixteen anymore and more 
than a few dicks had pummeled by pussy over the years, but I’m still tighter 
than most girls years younger than me (or so I’m told) and I knew I HAD to be 
a hell of a lot tighter than his wife after the kids.

“That’s it Mr. Eisenberg, faster... fuck me faster... oh fuck me harder!” I 
moaned over and over as he rocked back and forth over me.

My boobs were bouncing up and down as he literally shoved me backwards against 
the pillows with each pounding thrust, then backing out of me slowly only to 
be followed by another rapid thrust, driving his dick rapidly up inside of me.  
Then he would hold himself there, buried to the hilt for a few sensational 
seconds, his pubic hair mashed against my bare pussy, just throbbing inside of 
me.  Then without a word, he drew it back slowly again, like an archer drawing 
back an arrow on his bow, only to thrust it wildly into me yet again like the 
archer releasing his arrow.

I was cumming again... oh my god was I cumming again!  It was like the first 
time had been just a warm-up, just a preview of things yet to cum as my orgasm 
swelled within me.  My exploding pussy clamped down on his dick like a vise, 
gripping him and holding him inside of me, never wanting to release him.

“OH I’M CUMMING!” I cried even louder this time.  Fortunately it was just 
after lunch and odds were nobody was in the rooms next to us.  Even if they 
had been, so what?  Why else would anyone be locked away in a hotel room on a 
day like today other than to have sex?

My legs wrapped around his ass as I tried to pull him even deeper into me.  My 
boobs felt like they were about to explode with pleasure as my orgasm ebbed 
and flowed, like waves in a tidal pool swishing back and forth over every inch 
of my body.  It had been a while since I’d cum this hard and I wanted to enjoy 
every second of it.  He was just holding himself still over me, letting my 
pussy grip his cock and gush over it, listening to me babble to him about how 
good it felt and how bad I wanted him to keep fucking me.  He was about to 
start pumping me again when I had another idea instead.

“Over...” was all I said, more of a grunt but as I twisted my body he seemed 
to get the idea.

He laid down tight against me and we rolled as one, barely avoiding falling 
off the edge of the double bed in the process but once he was on the bottom he 
scooted over towards the center again, leaving me perched on his dick like a 
marshmallow on a stick.  I was on top now with his dick still in me – nice 
move considering I doubted he’d ever done that maneuver before.

“You wife ever ride you like this?” I panted, the final throes of my orgasm 
still pulsing in me as I put my hands on his chest as I rose up on my knees, 
keeping his dick barely in me.

“Never... only one way with her,” he managed to finally get out, trying to 
catch his breath.

I started to pump my ass up and down on his cock, not really bobbing up and 
down with my entire body but doing 90% of the work with just my hips and butt, 
like a hula dancer doing her thing while mounted on his dick.  I loved the 
control, to be the one to determine how fast he went in and out, how deep he 
fucked me, everything about it.  Sometimes I would just sit down on his 
crotch, putting my full weight down on my pussy, pushing him as deep up in me 
as I could.  I looked down between my legs and smiled as all that was visible 
of his dick was a patch of his curly pubic hair between him and me, the rest 
of him had disappeared deep in me – as if that wonderful feeling I get when a 
man is in me didn't already tell me.

He seemed to be enjoying it as much as me.  First he had his hands on my bare 
hips, helping me to rise up and down on his dick and then he moved to my boobs 
as I leaned forward just a bit to make it easier for him or grasp them.  I 
lowered myself further until my nipples were in his face and he hungrily 
sucked on one and then the other like he was starving to eat them.  Mmmmmmm, 
it felt so good to feel him suck hard on my sensitive nipples as I wiggled my 
ass around his cock!

“Ever fuck a girl doggie before?” I asked him after fucking him on top for a 
while.

I was 99.9% sure what the answer would be and the look on his face told me 
that I had been too cautious in my earlier estimate.  Oh well, why not let him 
try as many new things as possible?  I rose up on his dick but before he could 
get up I was leaning over his crotch, taking his dick in my mouth yet again.  
Mmmmmmm, I LOVE the taste of a dick right after it’s been in me when I cum.  
The taste of my pussy was strong on his cock and the only thing better would 
be if his cum was mixed in as well.

After the fucking he had given me I only sucked his dick for a few minutes or 
else I’m sure he would have erupted.  I got on all fours, my ass facing me 
with my knees apart to give him a good view of my pussy and asshole.

“Like my ass Mr. Eisenberg?”

Like he was going to say “no”?  I wasn't expecting a response and I didn't get 
one, at least not verbally.  Instead, Mr. Eisenberg got on his knees and with 
one hand stroking his dick, he quickly worked his way between my legs until I 
felt his dick against my asshole.  Well, sorry but THAT was one fantasy he 
would just have to masturbate about later.

“In my pussy,” I simply said, not trying to break the mood by being too harsh 
on him.

What is it with men and assholes anyway?  Here I was with a dripping wet pussy 
dying for him to fuck, and he wants to use my asshole instead?  Sheesh, what’s 
wrong with this picture?

He didn't argue and it wasn't long before he was back in me again.  As wet and 
freshly fucked as I was, my pussy must have been an easy target for him this 
time!  I didn't care at this point, not so long as he was back in me as soon 
as possible.  With his hands on my waist, he started to pump me again, 
slapping his crotch into my butt as he pushed and pulled me in sync with his 
thrusts.  I loved this position as it seems that it is the best for getting a 
dick as deep in me as possible and he was definitely in me – no doubt about 
THAT.

My boobs felt like pendulums, swaying back and forth as he fucked me faster 
and harder.  I dropped to my elbows, elevating my ass even more to make it 
easier for him to fuck me from behind, not to mention my arms were getting 
tired.  He HAD to be about to cum by now and I was right, he was reaching the 
brink.  The question now was, WHERE?

Nine times out of ten, the answer would have been simple.  Given the choice, I 
love a man to cum inside of my pussy.  Besides the obvious point that it 
simply FEELS good, in a case like Mr. Eisenberg, it also signifies that final 
betrayal of his wedding vows, to not just FUCK me, but to MATE me as well.  Of 
course I had zero desire to get pregnant with him, it was the symbolism that 
mattered more to me.  In this particular case, though, I was looking for 
something more dramatic, something more for him to remember me by every time 
he saw me in the hall at school.  I wanted him to think about this moment 
every time he said hello to me in school, every time his wife was next to him 
at a conference or other school event.  Every time he fucked his wife for the 
rest of his life I wanted him to remember me.

From the speed and frantic way he was starting to fuck me, I knew he was about 
to cum and I wanted to catch him before that happened so to his surprise, I 
leaned forward and crawled away from him, leaving him kneeling there with his 
pussy-juice covered dick glistening in the sunlight.  Before he could say 
anything though, I’d twisted around so I was kneeling and facing him, then I 
took his swelling dick in my mouth yet again and sucked him as well as I knew 
how with just one goal – to drive him to an orgasm as quickly as possible.

Mr. Eisenberg had his hands on my head now, pushing and pulling me in and out 
of his crotch as he thrust himself into my mouth in time with the rocking I 
was doing on the bed.  He was close... very close... VERY close.  I dropped 
him from my mouth and started stroking his dick with both hands, twisting and 
turning them on his dick as I forced him into that final point of no return.  
Like a cat eying a mouse, I watched the tip of his dick without hardly 
blinking, not wanting to miss that first spurt of cum when it erupted from 
him.

“Cum on my face... I want you to cover my face with cum Mr. Eisenberg,” I said 
to him quickly, not wanting to be caught talking when he exploded.  

“Oh yeah, you would like that, wouldn't you Kelly... you fucking slut... 
little whore.:

Wow, I was a little surprised at his words as he had mostly been quiet while 
we had fucked, generally just groaning and moaning as he fucked me.  I took 
his words as those of a man being driven by his lust, without any rational 
thought or control over what he said so it didn’t bother me that he called me 
a whore.  In a way though, wasn't that exactly what I was right now?  Wasn't I 
getting “paid” with a new job for letting him fucking me?

“Here it cums!” he announced as sure enough, I saw the first rope of milky 
sperm emerge from his dick and strike me on the forehead.  Usually that first 
shot is the strongest and it wouldn't have totally surprised me if it had gone 
over my head (and it wouldn't have been the first time for me either).  The 
second hit my on the tongue and I could immediately taste the strong cum, even 
as third shot landed next to the second.  The rest was sort of everywhere – my 
cheeks, neck, boobs, and so forth.  Damn, he had a LOT of cum!

When his final load had been shot, I lifted my head and stuck out my tongue so 
he could see his cum puddle there, as well as the mess I must have had all 
over my face.  At least it felt that way.  He grinned a the sight of his cum 
in my mouth and so I closed my mouth and made a dramatic show of swallowing 
it, then opening my mouth again to show it was all gone except for a slimy 
film on my tongue.  It would take a good toothbrush and some mouthwash to 
clear THAT off, not to mention the aftertaste.

“Mmmmmmm, I bet your wife never swallowed your cum before, has she?” I asked 
naughtily as I used his dick like a squeegee to wipe some of the cum on my 
cheeks over to my mouth where I licked it off and swallowed it as well.  

“Oh god, I never thought I would ever see that,” he gasped, his eye wide open 
as he stared at his cum all over me.  “That was incredible Kelly... fucking 
incredible.”

I quickly bounced off the bed and ran to the bathroom, returning with a towel 
which I then used to wipe the cum off me as best as I could.  Fortunately, I 
didn't think he had gotten any in my hair which made it a lot easier.  THEN I 
would have HAD to take a shower.  Although it could be erotic sometimes to go 
out in public with cum on me, I didn't feel today was quite the appropriate 
time or place.

“Soooooo, Mr. Eisenberg, do I get the job?” I asked as I rubbed some more cum 
off my boobs I had missed the first time around.

God, that stuff is SUCH a pain to get off.  And people wonder why I say I 
prefer it in my pussy or mouth.

Mr. Eisenberg had laid back, flat on his back with his spent dick now hanging 
limply to the side.  Even as it got softer, it still looked tempting and I 
probably wouldn’t have minded if he had wanted to for seconds but it seemed he 
was satisfied with my “demonstration”.  His eyes were closed and for a moment 
I thought he had fallen asleep but the lids cracked open and he smiled up at 
me as I sat back on my heels next to him.

“Well, you definitely showed me you want the job,” he teased me.  “Let me 
think about it some more.  It may require another ‘interview’ or even more, 
you know how complicated these decisions can be.”

Bastard, how dare he even suggest such a thing.  Suddenly any feelings about 
wanting him to fuck me or to suck his dick disappeared, replaced by the most 
intense anger and disgust.  He laid his head back with his eyes closed again, 
ignoring me.  Well, we’d see about that!  I grabbed my dress, slipped it over 
my head and dropped it into place.  Not only did it come OFF easily, but it 
went ON just as easy.  With no bra or panties, that left just my heels which I 
slipped on and was ready to go in less than thirty seconds.

Grabbing my purse, I walked to the side of the bed and reached out to grab his 
dick firmly in my fist, squeezing it hard enough to make his eyes pop open and 
look at me with surprise.  

“What the...” he stammered but I didn’t let him finish.

“OK, now let’s get this straight, MR. Eisenberg,” I said sternly, without even 
the slightest hint of tease or naughtiness, “You WILL give the board your 
highest recommendation.  I WILL be teaching this fall or you can say goodbye 
to THIS!”

“Hey, you can’t make any demands, I know too much about you,” he countered, 
suddenly all serious but looking a little dismayed as well.  

“Oh give me a break... most people know I’m a slut, haven’t you asked around?  
But what would your precious wife say if she found that YOU had fucked me too?  
I bet the school board would love to hear all the juicy details of the blowjob 
I just gave you, not to mention how much you enjoyed fucking me afterwards.”

“You can’t prove anything,” he blustered.

“Do I NEED to?” I shot back, “I think I know enough ‘personal’ things about 
you that I could convince enough people, especially your wife, that I was 
telling the truth.”

He shut up then, mulling things over apparently.  He wasn’t a stupid man.  The 
idiot had just reacted the way most men would given the opportunity.  Probably 
figured after talking to the old administrator that this was a once-in-a- 
lifetime chance to fulfill some fantasy of his, never thinking it through to 
what might happen afterwards.  Idiot.

“Alright... you win, you get the job,” he said, looking somewhat chagrined.  

Then he brightened up saying, “But at least I made you fuck me to get it.”

Yeah, as IF that was some sort of “win’ on his part.  Other than the fact I 
hated getting my first teaching position this way, actually I’d rather enjoyed 
it.  My anger began to dissipate as I noticed his cock was starting to stir 
again.  Hmm, maybe he wasn't going to take that long recovering as I’d feared!

What the hell... why not?  “In for a penny, in for a pound” an old college 
professor of mine use to say.  My dress dropped to the floor yet again...

As I laid there sucking his dick again, feeling it slowly grow back to its 
previous glory in my mouth, I couldn't help but smile at myself.  So what if I 
fucked my way into this job?  Like, was it so bad that I had the school 
administrator in my back pocket, so to speak?  I remembered from the last time 
I’d taught a the school how horny I would get sometimes and all that I could 
do was disappear to the restroom in the teacher’s lounge for a quick round of 
masturbation.  

Hmmm, maybe I might have to have some special meetings each week with the 
school administrator... some VERY special meetings...

Postlude
========

It’s only June as I write this and so school is still over a couple of months 
away.  After leaving Mr. Eisenberg I did a lot of thinking about what I’d done 
and the possible ramifications.  In the end, I believe I did what I had to do 
and so I don't regret any of it.  It’s a tough job market out there and so 
what if I have to rely on more than just my academic credentials to get what I 
want?  My sexual skills are just as much as part of me as my academic ones, so 
why try to separate them from one another?

The bottom line is... I’m going to be a teacher again!  Who cares HOW I got 
the job, just that I got it – right?

THE END

  

20090526 School Administrator - MF oral exhib adultery