Subject: School Administrator (MF, oral, exhib)
By: Kelly <pghkelly@yahoo.com>
Diary Date: MAY 26, 2009

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                                   !!!WARNING!!!!
This file is a work of fiction containing sexually explicit material which may 
include depictions of underage, nonconsensual and unprotected sex as well as 
incest and adultery. It is not intended to implicate any person or action by 
them or me, nor advocate such practices. If you can't separate fantasy from 
reality, get professional help - FAST!

The material is distributed as "For Adults Only" and possession by a minor is 
strictly forbidden.  If you are not legally empowered to be in possession of 
this material, do not read it and delete it immediately.

This work is copyrighted to the author ©2010. It may be posted to non-commercial 
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites so long as no changes 
are made AND the author information is retained.
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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, who 
ever 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 mothers 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 andfulfilling – 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 cold 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... 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 bad 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 a girl like you knows VERY well what 
I mean.”

Hmmm, a “girl 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.

“Hmmmm, 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 another 
look at your ‘credentials’ again.”

God, where did he get these lines?  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 cold 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 as 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 marring 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!”  He 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.”

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.  Mmmmm, 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 him enter 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,” 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!”

“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 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.  Mmmmm, 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 
though 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 crap?  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.  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 Miss Wells, 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 about, don't we,” he said, 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 had 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 was 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.”

“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.... so 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. 

“Mmmmm, it’s so wet Mr. Eisenberg, I’ve been thinking all week about you... 
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.  Mmmmm, 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...”

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 feel so good.... 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.  Mmmmm, 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!

He 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.  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.

“Ohhhh,” 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 him 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.  Mmmmm, 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.  Mmmmm, 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 it’s 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.  Mmmmm, 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% 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.  
Mmmmm, 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.

“Mmmmm, 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.

“Sooooo, 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’, you know how 
complicated these decision 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?  I 
bet the school board would love to hear all the details of the blowjob I just 
gave you.”

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

“Do I NEED to?” I came 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 it’s 
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... 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