The Naughty Collection

by Ruby City Books

  He peeled out of his tight football t-shirt, and my mouth and pussy both watered at the sight of him as he climbed up into bed, his broad, strapping chest, his throbbing muscles, glazed with sweat after I'd straddled him and sucked on his mouth for so long, and about to get a hell of a lot sweatier. My bathrobe, at this point, was flowing all over the place, sliding down along my glossy shoulders and bunched up behind me so that my breasts and ass were largely visible, and the robe itself seemed to be just hanging on by a thread.

  I don't know if he had it in his head that he was going to be the one in charge of this, but if that was the case, any such illusions were dispelled in mighty short order, as I laid siege to his body almost the instant he touched down against the mattress. I climbed up onto him in my state of dishevelment, invading his tight, sexy body, and went straight for the waistband of his sweatpants, his boner now pushing so fiercely through it that I thought it might rip the damn fabric.

  I began to peel him out, and his cock sprang urgently out into the open, as though it had been suffocating, dying to come out into the open, and I grinned hungrily as I studied the glossy flecks of pre-ejaculate decorating its engorged, purple tip.

  I reached up, and seized a vicious handful of his long, hard immensity. He groaned, and I slowly pushed my wrist down, down, downward, dredging the skin of his shaft toward the base of his cock until it was stretched taut, and allowing the sensations to mount. I released him, then, and pulled back the opposite direction, letting go of the tension once more. I continued in this fashion for some time, pumping, squeezing him, working my wrist until it was tired, at which point I felt it an opportune time to take my first long awaited taste of cock for the day.

  I opened my lips wide and braced myself, trying to force back my gag reflexes, and knowing that, with a man this size, doing so was no particularly easy task. But somehow, I managed it, and the next thing I knew my lips were melting around his throbbing tip, taking him in his considerable entirety. Inch by inch by agonizing inch of his long, hard cock came burrowing into the tight, wet crook of my throat, until at last I felt him touching down against the back of my neck, and I had to flare my nostrils hard to keep from choking on the tremendous thing.

  I could tell he loved it, as he shuddered and as the cheeks of his ass clenched up, and I proceeded to up this sweet, sweet torment of mine exponentially. I brought my lips up, up, up around him, sliding all the way up to his tip, and building up an immense suction. Then I snapped my lips off of him, and sank back down, swallowing him whole once again.

  I proceeded to suck in a steady, bobbing rhythm, my cheeks compressed around him and my tongue slipping and twisting around his shaft, looking up at him all the while with innocent, girlish eyes that I know devastated him, grunting and pumping with such sounds that they were like music to my ears.

  “Yeah... Yeah baby... Oh God, I love you,” he chanted in a whisper, and he noted my hair was beginning to flap against my face, so he reached down, and held it safely out of the way. Something about this turned me on harder than ever, and I tightened up my suction on his dick as a means of rewarding them.

  Finally, just when I thought I could no longer take any more of this despite my enjoyment of it, I could feel him getting ready to unload, and I decided this was a good time to stop, in order to save his load to be shot up between my legs instead.

  I pulled my lips off of him, gasping for breath, streams of saliva dribbling humiliatingly down along my chin, nostrils flaring, and my need for penetration at its highest peak. Rob wasn't looking at me, but was staring instead at his near vertical erection, which was coated with saliva at this point, and more than ready to be fallen upon. I leaned in, and spat on his tip, coating his shaft evenly with the stuff using my hand, until at last he looked good and lubed up for me.

  I tossed down the bath robe, and gave him a complete look of my wholly naked body for a moment before climbing up onto him, spreading my legs wide, and aiming my genitals just right so that they lined up properly with his own.

  And slowly, I sank myself down, down, down onto him, moaning and groaning as he sliced open the tight, pink folds of my vagina with his stiff rod, my warm, wet nook inhaling the entirety of his thick, solid dick until at last I felt him touch down deep, deep, deep inside me.

  And Jesus, I loved it...

  My whole body felt braced, trembling with sensation, and honestly I felt like crying from the satisfaction of having finally gotten my man inside me after so long of a wait.

  All of the dissatisfaction, the discontent from earlier on in the evening, seemed like it could have been imagined by me all along in the reality of this moment.

  And then, I began to slide my body around on top of him, and God, it felt so amazing... I was squirming around on him like a belly dancer, pushing my chest forward and grinding my pelvis around, smearing my pussy up against him and causing his cock to scrape through me, pushing me open, stretching me, and filling me with sensations all over.

  Something primal, carnal, and horny as hell was unleashed inside me, and I felt the sexual animal locked up deep in my body begin to rage in reaction.

  I started to bounce up on top of him, to pound him with my pussy and to drive him further, further, further up into my aching cunt. There was no stopping me now, and I was moaning out chants of ecstasy in accordance, losing complete control of myself, “Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh fuck, fuck, oh yeah, fuck me...”

  “God... Honey, Emily is asleep just on the other side of the wall!” It seemed absurd that Rob should be the one to remember to be responsible during sex, but I suddenly realized he was right, and I tried to get a hold of myself. I put one hand over my mouth to suppress my moans, and with my other I clutched on tight to one of my jiggling boobs. The end results was a series of groaning, doglike sounds swelling up deep from my throat, probably not all that much quieter than before, but at the very least less easily identifiable as being profane to a nine year old.

  I began to lose my balance soon, however, and forgetting my husband's reprimand in a heartbeat, I leaned forward to brace the wall against which our bed was stationed for support, causing the headboard to smack repeatedly up against its surface, but at this point we were both too far in to take back control of ourselves.

  “Oh yes... Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes...”

  And, BOOM!

  With that last, furious push, the two of us burst, and my screams grew louder and more disruptive than ever as I shook on top of him. Rob ejaculated, filling me up to the brim with his hot, molten cum, drenching my cunt and my thighs, and sending me spilling over the edge with an intense, bone rattling orgasm of my own. I arched my spine with pleasure, and sank my fingers into his flesh, and tightened up so hard against him that I thought I might crush him between my legs.

  And then, at last, I collapsed, my heaving body toppling off of him like a timbered tree, my breasts heaving, and the two of us panting like dogs as our heads spun from the heights of our pleasure. Still, though, I felt as though I'd missed out on something, and I leaned in to try and wring the last ounces of pleasure from his body. I sucked off the leftover portions of his fluid from his semi-flaccid prick, though this did little to help matters either, and at last he sighed, pulling back up his sweatpants, and ducking beneath the covers.

  “I love you babe,” he said, and was ready to sleep as easily as that.

  I, meanwhile, sat naked and full of him on the bedspread beside him, and it seemed as though somehow I'd just been cheated in a very real and very major way, though I couldn't really seem to put my finger on it.

  I suddenly felt like crying.

  I put my hand to my eyes in an effort to hold back what I thought was coming, squeezing hard, and somehow managing to avoid tears.

  I pulled my hand back again and sighed, shaking my head as though it was ridiculous that I'd been willing to cry over whatever the hell this was that was unexplainably bothering me.

  I rolled my body off of the bed and grabbed the bathrobe once again, no
t putting it on all the way, but just sort of draping it over my naughty bits in the event my daughter happened to be awake and attentive as I walked past her room.

  I stepped into the shower to clean myself up, and my head rang more painfully than ever with the regret of whatever the hell my life had turned into of late.

  It was going to be a long, sleepless night...

  Chapter 3

  The next day turned out to be uncannily similar to the previous one. I found myself struggling to do too many things at once, overworked, underpaid, all that jazz, and at the end of the day I knew that I didn't even have my mixed blessing of a home to look forward to returning to. It was, after all, the night of the parent teacher conference with Mr. Fellows, and I would be heading straight to the school almost immediately after the work day was over. I probably wouldn't even have the chance to grab a damn hamburger in the drive thru on the way over...

  Of course, Ron could easily have been the one to attend this conference on Emily's behalf, seeing as how his work day ended long before mine. But of course, when we'd received notification that the two of us were supposed to attend, the default assumption on his part was that I would be the parent responsible for showing up, and I'd stupidly avoided suggesting otherwise, used as I was to taking care of this shit almost all the time anyways.

  And so, once again with my head threatening to spill over into throbbing migraine territory, I found myself in the elementary school parking lot, wishing I had a shot of something in my system to get through this, but knowing that showing up to your daughter's parent teacher conference wasted was about the damn epitome of disgraceful. And anyway, if I kept on drinking myself into a good mood I was going to slowly morph into an alcoholic, and that was about the last thing I felt I needed at this point in my life.

  Sober and pissy, I stepped inside the school, ambling my way down the hallway until I found Mr. Fellows' office, and knocking on the door.

  “Come in,” said a voice, perhaps in his forties or fifties, and I stepped inside, ready to get this done and over with, and not the least bit suspecting of what was about to unfold.

  When I saw Mr. Fellows sitting there, I did have an initial impression that he was a remarkably attractive gentleman for his age- a silver fox, if you will. Not old, but more mature than myself, in his fifties probably, like I'd estimated from his voice. An athletic build, a sculpted physique, and a confident demeanor that got my fantasies flying from the moment I laid eyes on him.

  But, aside from that, there was no real pang of recognition or anything remarkable that made him stand out in my mind from any other handsome teacher in the world.

  What caught my attention, however, was when he suddenly said my full maiden name, both first and last, and it took me a moment to recognize that my maiden name was what it was he was using. He seemed astonished, disbelieving, that the person who was sitting before him was really who she was.

  “My God... I didn't even recognize you!”

  “Oh wow... Mr. Fellows! I'm so sorry, I- God! It's been such a long time! How are you?”

  Suddenly, this was very much like finding myself with a bad case of deja vu.

  I knew this bastard's name had sounded familiar! I hadn't remembered until precisely this moment, but this was not at all the first time I'd encountered Mr. Fellows in his capacity as a teacher.

  I'd had him, in high school, as a geometry teacher. And tragically, as I looked at him now, the absolute first thing that came to mind was that, as an eighteen year old girl sitting in his class, I had had the most unspeakable of crushes on the man, phasing out the lessons he was trying to teach me and instead fantasizing about staying after class, and him instructing me in the art of riding his long hard cock for him...

  Of course, a lot of girls from our school had had a crush on this man- we wondered why the hell he was in a small town teaching high school math classes with looks like his, when he could be posing in his underwear for Calvin Klein or posing as the damn centerfold in Playgirl. And I was thrilled to see that, even in his forties or fifties, he was every bit the handsome devil that he'd been back in the day.

  Although, admittedly, being put in a situation that, for me, was suddenly so overtly sexual, was hardly the thing I needed to be able to get through this meeting intact, as now thoughts of being bent over the desk by my daughter's grade school teacher were now making me cough and blush, and completely effing up my concentration.

  Somehow, to my credit, I managed to get a handle on myself and focused on the task at hand, telling myself that surely, even as a sexy young woman, alone at night with a perfectly capable specimen of masculinity in an empty school building, his intentions for me were purely in a professional capacity, and that any fantasies I had needed to be kept to myself.

  We shot the breeze for a while, catching up with one another's lives, as though we'd always had some close relationship that was suddenly be rekindled. He marveled at the fact that I was Emily's mother, and said that although he really shouldn't play favorites, he considered her one of the brightest and most talented students in all of his classes. I'm not really sure why, but I blushed at this for some reason. I mean, it was Emily he was complimenting, not me... But then again, whose vagina had Emily come out of, after all? Mine. And so, by the transitive property, it could clearly be inferred that his compliments on my daughter's academic performance were, in fact, compliments on my vagina.

  God, was I losing it...

  At any rate, he told me that, for the most part, these conferences tended to be more of a formality than anything. They were helpful for students who maybe weren't excelling quite to the extent that my Emily was, but that in her case, it was just a chance to touch base with parents, and to compliment them on displaying such an investment in their child's potential. Emily, he told me, was outgoing and popular with the other kids, but that she didn't let this interfere with her work, and was at the top of the class as far as her grades went.

  I continued to beam at this, as every compliment he paid to my daughter came off as an advance toward me in my mind, and I wondered, vaguely, whether I was still somehow drunk or something from the night before.

  I was really, really enjoying the hell out of this...

  Before either of us knew it, the two of us had been sitting there for about an hour, having lost track of time with laughing and telling stories, and learning a lot more about one another than I'm sure we ever did in the years I had him as a teacher myself. He told me about how he'd made the transition from high school teacher to elementary school, asked me about old classmates of mine who I'd not seen in as long as he had, and after a while, it began to feel almost more like a date than a conference.

  Finally, though, there was a pause in the conversation, and suddenly he took a look at his watch.

  “Oh, God! I had no idea it was getting this late... You were my last meeting for the evening, but I should really let you get going, shouldn't I?”

  “It's fine,” I said, smiling cordially and continuing to blush at him, this time brushing a strand of hair flirtatiously back behind my ear without really meaning to, nervous as I was and my body seeming to act on impulse.

  He smiled back at me, with eyes that I thought seemed to wish they could do a hell of a lot more to me than just stare. He didn't let this show in any other way, though, and said finally, “Well, you and I are the last one's here, so why don't we walk each other to our cars?”

  I smiled, and agreed, feeling my body heat up almost unspeakably for this man.

  We stepped out into the parking lot, and the scene for me seemed strangely like a parallel of last night at the office. This time, however, there were only two cars in the lot, his and my own and, embarrassingly, they were parked right next to one another. The lot had been fuller when I'd arrived, and I'd had no real way of knowing that it was his car I was parking next to, nor that the evening would have taken the unexpected turn that it had.

  I took my first step down from the curb, and almost immediat
ely my foot slid slightly on the surface. “Woah! God... Was it this slippery when I came in?”

  Mr. Fellows laughed. “No, the parking lot's been getting really icy at night lately. If you'd like, you can take my arm. I've gotten pretty used to navigating it by this point.”

  A shiver ran up along my spine suddenly, and I knew full well that it wasn't from the cold. But, in spite of my anxiety at the prospect and where it might lead, I reached out an arm for him to take, and allowed myself to be led, arm and arm, across the parking lot.

  I actually did quite a bit of sliding along as the two of us progressed, not falling, exactly, but managing a hell of a lot less stability than the hot teacher walking beside me was doing. He seemed to move across the slick asphalt with perfect poise, and I began to feel like a real graceless klutz for being unable to imitate him.

  It wasn't until the two of us arrived between our respective cars and he walked me up to the door that I suddenly lost my footing, and everything seemed to take a very shocking turn.