by D. L. Savage
Her little fingers were working fast between her legs and her mouth began to open, her eyes closing, and then she took the other hand away from her breast and steadied herself against the windowsill with it, as she leant forward, her wet hair dangling, her fingers still moving fast between her legs, her back arching and the unmistakable trembles of orgasm flowing through her, as she sucked her bottom lip gently into her mouth, obviously biting down on it to stop herself from crying out in pleasure.
The sight was too much for Scott.
He felt his cock swell and jerk in his grip, and he looked down at it, grunting involuntarily, just as it sent out the biggest spurt of thick white cum he’d ever seen — as thick and white as snow. Again it jerked and spurted, jerked and spurted, pumping out squirt after squirt of hot wet cum. He heard it spattering on the branches and grass beneath him.
When Scott looked up again, his head spinning with pleasure, he saw that Heather had quickly pulled the curtains.
A stab of panic went through him.
Had she seen him?
With trembling arms and legs, he quickly climbed down from the tree and scurried out through the back garden and down the side of the house. Then, without looking back, he ran as fast as he could home.
For the next few days, Scott existed in a muddled mixture of excitement at the memory of Heather’s naked flesh, and worry at the thought that she might have seen him and told her dad or reported him as a peeping tom to the police. But no police man or angry father came knocking on Scott’s door and by Christmas Eve, he was able to breath a sigh of relief.
He swore to himself never to do anything like that ever again - because in fairness, it had been a bit of an invasion of her privacy and, furthermore, if hehad been caught, just think of the fallout! It would have ruined their family Christmas and, what’s more, there was every chance that his parents would stop paying his college tuition if they suspected their only son was a pervert, hanging around in gardens late at night, spying on teenage girls and masturbating from treetops.
No, it was a one-off event and he’d walked away lucky, and from now on, he would at least have that cherished memory of Heather’s beautiful naked body, her back arched, gently trembling from orgasm, her fingers working in that dark wet patch of hair between her legs and the dark little nipples of her small breasts hard and erect.
Late on Christmas Eve, right before the family were to go to bed, there was a ring of the doorbell. Immediately, Scott’s stomach lurched at the thought that it might be Mr Phillips or the police.
He slouched low on the couch, pretending he hadn’t heard the sound.
“I’ll get it,” Clare groaned, getting up and slouching out into the hall to the front door.
Scott heard the door open, then a pause, then the door closing again. He felt a gentle draft of cold air from outside, then heard Clare walking back into the living room.
“Weird,” she said. “There was no one there. Just a card for Scott on the doorstep.”
She dropped the bright red envelope in Scott’s lap, then slouched back over to her seat in front of the TV.
To Scott, the unfamiliar handwriting read on the front of the envelope.
He turned it over.
Do not open until Xmas day.
First thing on Christmas morning, Scott woke up with his heart pounding at the thought of the mysterious envelope. Despite his curiosity, he’d managed to keep the envelope sealed despite many urges to tear it open.
But now he tore at the paper with eager trembling fingers, wondering who it was from and just what the mysterious red envelope contained.
On the front of the card was a simple Christmas tree design. Nothing unusual there. Then Scott opened it.
Dear Scott, the feminine handwriting read. I hope you had as good a time as I did the other night. If you’d like to take things a little further, come round to mine tonight for exactly 10:00pm sharp. My dad’s favorite TV show is on for half an hour. Let yourself up to my bedroom through the back door of the house and hide in my closet. I’ll do the rest.
Yours,
Heather xxx
Scott read the message again and again. He couldn’t believe it. Surely it couldn’t be real. But there it was, clutched in his hands! He kept returning to the final line: I’ll do the rest. What did she mean?
He looked at the alarm clock on his dresser: it was ten am. He had exactly twelve hours to wait. His heart pounded at the thought of what might happen.
All through the day, Scott went around in a distracted fog. He gave out his presents, ate his lunch, wished his family a merry Christmas, but his heart and mind were elsewhere.
I’ll do the rest, Heather’s voice kept saying in his head.
What did she mean?
Finally the evening came and Scott announced that he was heading upstairs. For once, his family were too distracted with Christmas TV to pester him and ask what he was up to. He picked out fresh underwear then headed to the bathroom, where he took a long, hot, steamy shower.
He made sure to shave his large balls and trimmed all his pubic hair into a neat, cropped patch and then he washed himself thoroughly, feeling his half-erect cock thickening and stiffening further as he washed it in the soapy suds, thinking once again about Heather’s lithe young body.
I’ll do the rest …
Finally, it was 9:30pm and Scott padded downstairs and let himself quietly out of the house. He walked over to the other side of town, pacing himself so he reached Heather’s house at exactly 10pm.
Sure enough, he caught a glimpse of Mr Phillips turning on the TV with the remote, then flopping down heavily on the couch, the light from the screen flashing in his glasses.
Scott stealthily padded around to the back of the house and then, after gulping back a final flutter of nerves, he tried the handle of the back door.
It opened!
He stepped into the dark kitchen as quietly as he could, closing the door behind him, then padded through the hallway — right past the living room, where the sounds of TV and Mr Phillip laughing were both frightfully loud! — and then finally up the stairs.
On the upstairs hallway, he saw a bedroom door ajar, and heard movement behind another door, which he guessed was the bathroom. He stuck his head around the slightly opened door and sure enough, it was Heather’s room - the light was on and the room was empty and Scott saw that the closet door was also standing open, waiting for him.
So he made his way into the room, looking around for Heather (she was nowhere to be seen), and then, his stomach fluttering, he stepped into the dark, slightly dusty-smelling closet, pushing the hanging clothes apart to make space for himself, and pulled the door closed. He was in almost complete darkness at first. But after a moment he realized that if he stood slightly on tiptoes, he could see out through a thin gap in the slats of the closet door, back out into the bedroom.
Just then, the door to Heather’s bedroom opened, and she stepped into the room, once again dressed in a bathrobe, but this time with a silly novelty Santa hat perched on her head, too. And when she threw off the robe a moment later, instead of being naked, Scott saw that she was dressed in a sexy red bra and stockings, the racy outfit completed by an incredibly short, tartan skirt.
Scott gulped, feeling his cock stiffen and press hard once more against his pants. He was bundled up against the back of the small closet, jackets and dresses draped around his shoulders, and the slatted wooden door was but inches from his nose. It was a tight squeeze and he felt the warmth of his own heavy breath around his face as he watched Heather pad sexily into the room.
She closed the bedroom door behind her, then turned and looked straight towards him, her eyes meeting his even though he was hidden in the closet. He felt a little foolish, wondering if he should perhaps step out of there, but then he remembered her note: I’ll do the rest.
“Merry Christmas,” she whispered, giving him a little cheeky wink.
The she turned her back to him, pressing play on her s
tereo, the room filling with the sexy sultry sounds of an r’n’b song.
Next she began to dance, moving her hips and ass in time to the beat, and Scott could occasionally glimpse the bare curves of her buttocks flashing beneath the hem of her incredibly short skirt.
She bent forward a little more, the skirt slipping up now, so that almost her whole ass was on display, a silky red thong running tightly between her butt cheeks and disappearing between her legs. Scott could just about make out the swollen lips of her pussy; two soft bulges beneath the slinky red fabric of the thong, and then, in time with the beat, Heather squatted down, the skirt bunching up around her waist, as she spread her legs wide, her hand disappearing between her legs for a moment, then she pulled herself to her feet once again, turning, reaching behind her back and unclipping the bra, letting it fall to the floor in one smooth motion as she strode straight towards the closet door. She unzipped her skirt too, so it slid down her legs and she stepped out of it gracefully.
She was dressed only in the red panties and stockings now, and Scott noted that her little nipples were once again hard and stiff, pointing out prominently from her small pert breasts in tight, swollen buds.
His cock felt so painfully stiff against his jeans that he let out an involuntary moan, hoping that soon it, too, might be free.
Luckily, Scott’s Christmas wish was granted.
As if able to read his horny mind, Heather dropped to her knees, right in front of the still-closed closet door. She reached out and pressed gently at the few slats of the door nearest to Scott’s groin and a surprising thing happened: the wood panels were only fitted loosely and as Heather pressed on them, they came away, falling around by Scott’s feet, leaving a gap of about six inches or so, right where Scott’s bulging crotch was.
Heather reached through into the closet and began fumbling with Scott’s belt and jeans. Realizing what was happening, he too reached down, quickly opening his pants and freeing up his hot, swollen, throbbing cock and balls.
Heather gasped when she saw it, rocking back on her heels. It was so big and hard that, even though she’d moved her head a little away from it, it was still only centimeters from her lips.
“Oh, wow!” she whispered, her pretty eyes widening and a mischievous grin spreading across her small but full, moist lips.
Scott’s cock was so big and purple and veiny, it looked almost as big as Heather’s whole head and he wondered for a moment if she’d even be able to fit the end of it inside her pretty little mouth.
She opened her lips wide, taking the shaft in her hand, her fingers not even gripping halfway round its girth, then began sucking on the very tip of his dick. She parted her mouth wider and Scott felt the whole of his cock head slide into the delicious warmth of her mouth.
Heather groaned quietly, her eyes closing in pleasure and delight as she began to suck, bobbing her head gently backwards and forwards, working her lips back and forth over the throbbing swollen head of Scott’s dick, the fingers of her left hand stroking and pumping his shaft, her other hand moving first to her breast, toying her rock-hard little nipple for a moment, before sliding down further, over her silky red panties.
From the closet, Scott watched Heather tug the gusset of her red thong to one side, giving him a brief flash of her dark pubic hair and swollen pink pussy lips, which were so wet with her own juices they were glittering and shiny, and then her fingers began to work at her pussy and clit, toying her wet cleft in tight little circles as she groaned with animal pleasure, her breath shivering and trembling in delighted little gasps as she continued to suck and nuzzle on Scott’s huge throbbing cock.
He could feel his own orgasm building inside him but he tried to keep it back as long as he could, as he realized that Heather’s too was coming; she was working herself up slowly but surely into a frenzy, squatting there in front of the closet: her sucking and breathing becoming quicker and more intense, the little fingers of her left hand sliding up and down the pulsing shaft of Scott’s cock, which was now just as wet and slick and shiny with Heather’s saliva as her pussy was with her juices.
He felt her strain and stiffen for a moment on her haunches, her thighs tensing and parting a little further, and then, with her lips still wrapped tightly around his engorged cock head, she let out a muffled whimper through her nose, her fingers working her pussy faster than ever. Scott looked down between Heather’s legs, unable to keep his orgasm back any longer and just as he felt his cock begin to unload squirt after squirt of thick hot cum into Heather’s eager mouth, he noted with astonishment that her pussy was actually squirting too!
He’d never seen anything like it.
Clear jets of liquid were hissing in hard little jets from her swollen pink pussy lips and spattering against the carpet, soaking it an even darker shade of pink than before.
And then, the very moment that Scott and Heather had both finished cumming, there came a stern rap at the bedroom door.
Heather’s eyes widened with shock and surprise and Scott felt his stomach turn over on itself. It could be only one person: Mr Phillips. Shit!
“Heather?” the stern voice came from the landing.
Quick as a flash, Heather jumped to her feet. She grabbed the bathrobe from the hook behind her bedroom door and flung it around her shoulders, holding it loosely to her chest. She whipped the silly Santa hat off her head and flung it over Scott’s still-hard, dripping cock which jutted out through the gap in the closet slats.
And then finally, after swallowing the brimming mouthful of Scott’s cum that she’d been ever so carefully holding her mouth, she said in the sweetest, most angelic voice she could muster, “Yes, Daddy?”
She opened the door and there, standing sternly in the doorway, was Mr Phillips.
“Turn this freaking racket down!” he said, nodding angrily towards the stereo, which was still pumping out its sexy r’n’b into the room. “Couldn’t you hear me down there? I was shouting up the stairs at you for five full minutes! I’m watching my favorite show down there!”
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Heather said, sweetly.
He turned and headed back down the stairs and Heather closed the door once more.
She padded back over to the closet and pulled open the door, and faced Scott properly for the first time, her eyes twinkling with naughty Christmas glee.
Scott couldn’t keep the smile off his face.
“Hi, Heather,” he said, relishing the feeling of being able to speak to a girl for the first time without all his words getting jumbled up and tangled in his throat.
“Hi, Scott,” Heather replied, her mouth too spreading into a wide grin, her lips glossy with Scott’s cum.
She looked down at Scott’s crotch, then pulled off the Santa hat, revealing his huge pink cock, which had already stiffened to full size once more.
“We’ve still got twenty-five minutes,” she said with a wink. “What do you want to do next?”
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15
Oral Academy
Chapter One: The Basics
I remember when I first got the letter of acceptance. It was bright and early on a Saturday morning and I was still dressed in my favorite pink p.j.s. I tore open the official-looking envelope and read the letter eagerly:
Dear Suzanne,
We are delighted to offer you a full scholarship to Oral Academy. Your classes will begin first thing on Monday morning. We look forward to seeing you soon.
Sincerely,
Mrs D. Chalmers (B.J.E.)
I squealed with excitement, then turned and raced up the stairs to my bedroom to pack my things, ready for my very first semester atOral Academy.
I arrived on campus first thing on Monday morning and looked around me in disbelief. The academy was even bigger and more beautiful than the pictures in the brochure! The grand old buildings looked like something out of a Harry Potter movie, and the whole place was busy with students hustling and bustling around the grounds, their folde
rs and books clutched tightly to their chests.
Just then the big clock above the central courtyard rang out 9 am and I looked around in panic, still unable to make sense of the small campus map I’d been given on arrival.
“Hey!” a friendly voice said from behind me, “you looking for room 6a too?”
I span round to face a smiling blonde girl in pig tails. She had big blue eyes and big pink lips and was chewing away on some bubble gum.
“Yeah!” I said.
“Cool!” she said. “Me too!”
And she grabbed my arm and led me through the campus on the way to our classroom.
“I’m Sukie,” she said as we hurried along, “Sukie Green. What’s your name?”
“Suzanne,” I told her. “Suzanne Mills.”
“Pleased to meet you, Suzanne!” she grinned, before blowing a huge pink bubble.
And then before we knew it, we were standing in front of the large imposing door to classroom 6a, and from behind it we could hear the day’s class, already in progress. I felt butterflies fluttering in my tummy. With a shaky hand, I knocked on the door.
“Come in!” a strict, British-sounding voice commanded.
I pushed open the door and we stepped inside.
The room was set out like a normal classroom, and there were about thirty girls all around the same age as me, sat at rows of old-fashioned wooden desks. And there, stood at the front of of the class was the large, imposing figure of a redheaded woman dressed in a black leather pantsuit.
“Green and Mills?” she said, sternly.
Sukie and I nodded.
“You’re late. Take your seats at the back of the class and try your best to catch up.”
We eagerly took our seats and looked down at the large blackboard, on which was written in chalk: MRS CHALMERS.
