Subject: School Administrator
Story Codes: MF oral exhib adultery incest father daughter
Diary Date: May 26, 2009
Author: Kelly <pghpa_girl@yahoo.com>
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!!!WARNING!!!!
This file contains sexually explicit material which may include graphic
depictions of underage, nonconsensual and unprotected sex as well as
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Summary
=======
Life can be like a roller-coaster sometimes, full of climbs and drops,
sudden turns and gut-wrenching twists. All my life I’d wanted nothing
more than to be a teacher and then it seemed all my hopes and dreams were
crushed. When an opportunity arose, who could blame me for comprising
my principles so long as it led to me doing what I’d always dreamed of -
teaching.
Table of Contents
=================
Chapter 1 – Hopes Realized and Crushed
Chapter 2 – The First Interview
Chapter 3 – The Second Interview
Chapter 4 - Preparing For My Final “Interview”
Chapter 5 – How Bad Did I Want the Job?
Postlude
Chapter 1 – Hopes Realized and Crushed
======================================
All kids grow up thinking they know what they want to be when they grow
up. Little boys imagine becoming a heroic figure, like a fireman,
policeman, maybe an astronaut. Little girls dress up as princesses,
nurses, teachers, and beauty pageant winners. Sadly, most of them never
realize their dreams. I mean, whoever gets in front of their 6th grade
class to say they want to be a garbage man, a proctologist or a grocery
store clerk? Yet all these people are needed and their jobs are still
important, if maybe not so glamorous.
As for me, sure there were the days I dressed up in my mother’s old
clothes and pretended to be princess. Like every other girl, I watched
my share of beauty pageants and imagined it was me standing on the stage
at the end with a crown on my head and roses cradled in my arms.
Yet there was only one thing I truly ever dreamed about becoming – a
teacher. I can’t really explain why, it’s just been something that I’ve
always wanted. I guess I admired most of my teachers as I grew up. As I
got older and had the opportunity to work with children in various
capacities at my church and other volunteer groups, it only strengthened
my determination. To see the joy in a child’s face when they learn
something new is incredible and fulfilling – it simply cannot be
forgotten.
Graduating with my teaching degree was one of the highlights of my life.
My goal had been to return to my old home school district and teach but
it was an extremely competitive job market and the waiting list was
incredibly long. As an alumni I was hoping that I might have a bit of an
edge, but in talking with some friends that were already teaching there,
I realized that nothing would help me more than to get some real-world
experience to go along with my freshly minted diploma.
After applying at a number of schools, I was fortunate to find a small
Christian school that needed a replacement for their 4-6 grade teacher
who had been injured. It was one of the proudest days of my life when I
stood before my first class, a real teacher at last. Sure there were
days when it was frustrating and I would go home wondering what I’d
gotten myself into. Overall, though, it was just as rewarding and
satisfying as I’d hoped it would be – maybe even more. I loved the age
group I was teaching. As one teacher I knew use to say, “young enough to
love their teacher but old enough to tie their shoes”.
That may have been true more of the 4th graders than 6th grade, but at
least it was a far cry better than the hormonal 8th graders I had when I
did my student teaching! Now THEY were a challenge, to say the least.
The girls all had the “attitude” going strong while the boys were
learning about sex and it seemed they had perpetual erections in class as
they constantly tried looking down my blouse or up my skirt. If 8th
grade as already that bad, I can only imagine what high school would be
like which is why I preferred the younger kids.
At the same time my professional career was taking off, my personal life
was going along great as well. Finally I was dating a guy who looked to
be “the one” Duane was indeed the love of my life and I could easily see
myself accepting his marriage proposal. To make it all the more
interesting, I’d been getting reports of him appearing in jewelry shops
looking at rings! Marriage, or at least an engagement, seemed imminent.
Yes, my life was good... good indeed!
Duane knew a LOT about me, including many of the sexual “adventures” I’d
had since my first time at age fourteen. Given we’d met the first time
at local BJ party (at least so he and my friends claim, I hated to admit
it but I didn’t remember his dick in particular), it wasn't like he
thought I was some innocent little teenager. In fact, not only did Duane
not care that I had a reputation for being a slut, he actually seemed to
be proud of me because of it. This was especially true when he got to
grin mischievously at the guys I was teasing, not letting them forget
that HE was the one I’d be going home to bed with at the end.
As much as Duane THOUGHT he knew about me, the potential problem was that
he didn’t know EVERYTHING. The inner conflict I was having was when and
how to tell him perhaps one of the most important aspects of my life –
the incestual relationships between me, my dad and the rest of our
family. It’s not like it was something that comes up in casual
conversation and I didn't exactly advertise it. I never told anyone I
was dating as I was afraid that when we broke up he would go out and blab
about it to everyone – even if we didn't break up for that matter. As a
wide person once said, a secret is no longer a secret if two people know
about it.
Although I knew I had to tell Duane about me before we got married, I
procrastinated, unsure of how he would react. Now you would THINK it
would be just fine with him, especially since it meant he would also be
able to have sex with my mom, aunt and cousins (AFTER we got married).
Unfortunately, some guys can be strange.
When it comes to jealousy and possessiveness, logic and reason pretty
much go out the window when it comes to guys and their girlfriends. All
I had to do was look at my Aunt Linda’s history. Her husband knew about
everything before they got married but even then, once they were married
he couldn't deal with his wife having sex with other men, even if it WAS
only her father and brother-in-law. Like, they were her family so of
course they fucked her, what did he expect? Anyway, he finally forced
her to choose between him or her family which left her with only one
viable option – divorce. You can’t EVER go against your family and it
was horrible for him to put her where she had to make such a decision.
Thus it was my goal was to be sure THAT didn’t happen to me!
Looking back now, my biggest mistake was that rather than commit myself
and just tell Duane everything outright, I chickened out and decided to
ease into it a little at a time. To start, I let him learn about my Aunt
Linda and Kristi first, figuring I would see what his reaction was to
another case of mother- daughter sex before telling him about my
involvement with my mom and dad. OK, so it turned out to be a bad
decision – VERY bad as he broke up with me and tried to ruin my life.
Yet in some ways it may have worked out for the best in that at least I
learned how he felt BEFORE we got married. Long story short, we broke up
and to make things worse, he even said something to the school
administrator where I taught, who happened to be a personal friend of his
family.
I'll never know exactly what Duane told him, but it was enough for the
school administrator to confront me and ask for my resignation using some
vague references, enough to scare me without any specifics. Afraid I
would make things even worse if I protested, I did as he asked, leaving
my kids without so much as a tearful goodbye. Thus in a matter of days I
lost the man I thought I would marry AND the career I loved so dearly.
Talk about your bad week...
Losing my teaching position left me more than just heartbroken. Was my
new teaching career finished before it even got off the ground? Any
school that might hire me in the future would surely contact the
administrator of any previous institution where I’d taught to ask for a
reference. Although my resignation letter didn't give any details, and
so far as I knew there were no formal records of any of the accusations
that were made against me, so long as he was around my teaching
certifications weren't worth the paper they were printed on.
Well, as they say, God works in mysterious ways. I’d assumed the
administrator, an older guy but not ancient by any means, would be around
for many more years before he retired. Then something unexpected
happened; he had a heart attack which left him unable to return to work,
forcing him into retirement earlier than he had planned. When I heard
the news my emotions were conflicted. Of course I felt bad for him
personally, nobody should take joy in the suffering of another human
being. Yet at the same time my heart was fluttering as I wondered if it
meant an opportunity had just opened for me?
No matter what, until a new administrator was hired I couldn't apply for
anything since when someone resigns without notice, as I’d done, it would
be difficult for any temporary person to make such a decision to hire
someone like me back. One nice thing about private schools, they don't
have to go through all the rigmarole that public schools do when hiring
someone in such a position. In fact, only a month had passed before I
was told by a friend that a new guy was already in place. He was from
another private school in the area and well respected, much younger than
the previous administrator with a wife and kids in grade school.
It was like being on pins and needles as I anxiously waited a month or so
for him to settle into his new position and then finally got the courage
to go to his office one day and apply for my old position as I knew they
hadn’t filled it. Small wonder considering the pay was crap and most
teachers can’t afford to work for what was virtually minimum wage with
very few benefits. In fact, I remembered in my original interview that
they had spent as much time talking about my marriage opportunities as my
credentials – obviously hoping this would be a ‘second job” in the family
and I would have a husband’s salary and benefits to live on.
Chapter 2 – The First Interview
===============================
The sign next to the door said, “Mr. Eisenberg, School Administrator”. I
stood resolutely in front of it, my heart pounding like a jackhammer and
my knees felt so weak I could hardly stand up. His secretary had told me
that he was waiting for me so this was it – make or break time. The mere
fact he’d even agreed to see me was a positive sign. How much, if
anything, had the previous administrator told him about me? So far as I
knew, none of the other staff members had a clue as to the real reason
I’d left. I’d told them it was a personal matter at home and they were
polite enough to leave it at that, even if I could tell they were dying
to know the details. Now here I was again, portfolio in hand. Taking a
deep breath, I twisted the door knob and walked in like I owned the
place.
Mr. Eisneberg was seated behind the old wooden desk – this wasn't exactly
a state-of-the art building, not with the miniscule budget they had to
operate under. My first impression was he was a handsome, middle-age
man, balding slightly at the sides although his hair was still dark. He
seemed to be of average build, several inches taller than me even with
heels my on as he stood up to greet me and shake my hand. His suit,
while not expensive, was clean and hung on him well; off the rack, maybe
Macy’s or JC Penney. His smile seemed to be genuine and I felt a little
bit of my apprehension fade away as he offered me a seat in one of the
chairs lined up in front of his desk.
As I sat down and crossed my legs, Mr. Eisenberg’s eyes seemed to give me
the once-over. As befitting for this type of school, I was dressed quite
conservatively, my skirt coming just below my knees but still allowing
just a bit of thigh to show when I crossed my legs. I had on an opaque
white blouse with a floral vest that was left unbuttoned. Underneath, I
was even wearing a matching white bra and white nylon panties, so that
should give you some idea how seriously I was taking this interview! I
made sure to tug on my skirt just a little to keep it from riding up too
high– no need to make any wrong impressions. Schools like these prided
themselves on their conservatism and even a hint of impropriety might be
enough to lose the job.
At this point I had no idea what Mr. Eisenberg was all about and the last
thing I needed was for him to think me some type of slut. The school was
EXTREMELY conservative and when I’d taught here I had to buy pretty much
an entire new wardrobe! His eyes didn’t seem to linger too long at any
point so there was nothing to make of it, at least not at this point.
The interview was pretty standard - a review of my college transcripts,
board credentials, and home life. Being a private Christian school, I
was asked a number of questions no public school would have dared to ask
– my testimony regarding my faith in God, my opinions on several
political hot button issues such as abortion, and my present marital
status – and intentions. He then touched on my resignation and why I was
returning. Mr. Eisenberg seemed to accept my vague responses and
unspoken plea for privacy, so long as it didn’t affect my credibility
with regards to teaching at the school.
The entire interview lasted about an hour after which he shook my hand
and said he would get back to me. Typical closing words – don't call us,
we’ll call you. All in all, it was a completely standard interview,
nothing much to write home about. Actually, that in itself was
encouraging. I knew the school was desperate to hire someone and that
applicants with my credentials were scarce, at least when it came to
accepting what they had to offer. Unless something came up unexpectedly,
I couldn’t see how he could afford to pass on me.
Chapter 3 – The Second Interview
================================
Later that week I received a phone call from Mr. Eisenberg’s secretary,
asking me if I could come in for a follow-up interview. That was a VERY
good sign as it most likely meant I was someone they wanted and just had
to clear up a few things. It was exciting! All I had to do was endure
another hour at most, and the job would be mine... or so I thought.
Entering Mr. Eisenberg’s office for the second time was about the same as
the first. He greeted me as before, directed me to the same chair, gave
me the same look-over and got right to the point.
“So Miss Wells, I’ve verified your credentials and talked with the staff
about you. I was quite impressed - everyone spoke very highly of you.”
So far so good but there was something about the look on his face that
told me there was a “but” coming...
“But,” he said... I knew it!
He paused, leaving me wondering what was coming, “I also called Mr.
Wright to discuss your rather unique... shall we say... situation.”
My mind was racing a mile a minute now. Mr. Wright was the previous
administrator, the asshole that had fired me (or at least made me
resign). Oh no, what he had told Mr. Eisenberg about me? Well, it
couldn’t have been TOO bad or no doubt that I wouldn't have been asked in
for a second interview. Yet somehow I couldn't imagine Mr. Wright
giving me a glowing reference either, not given the manner we parted ways
last year. He had made it pretty clear that as far as he was concerned,
I would never teach again!
“You know, Mr. Wright had some every interesting things to say about you
Miss Wells... some VERY interesting things I must say.”
I could only hope that my face didn’t betray the sick feeling that was
forming in the pit of my stomach. Oh my god, so the asshole HAD told Mr.
Eisenberg about the real reason I’d left. Even worse, I knew Mr. Wright
had not told me everything that Duane had told him, leaving me to squirm
at the time and using it to hold over my head so I would resign. What
all had he told Mr. Eisenberg? Yet if he had, why had I been asked in
for a second interview? Was this some sort of sick practical joke, Mr.
Wright’s evil way at getting back at me for daring to apply now that he
had left, his perverted way of showing me his vendetta against me was
still on?
“So tell me Miss Wells... just how badly do you want this job?”
Now THAT was an interesting question. Normally, you would think someone
would ask why I wanted the job, not to explain “just how bad” I wanted
it. It was almost like he was asking me what would I do for it? Now
what did THAT mean? My gut tightened further as I imagined what it might
be.
“I’m not really sure what you mean Mr. Eisenberg,” I stammered, stalling
for time to figure out how to react to this unexpected turn of events.
“Oh I think you know Miss Wells... I think girls like you know VERY well
what I mean.”
Hmmm, “girls like you”? I had a pretty good idea of what he meant by
that little slur and it didn’t bode well for me, or at least my hopes in
securing this position.
Knowing my history, some people might not understand why I was bothered
so much by what was happening. After all, I’d never been afraid to use
my “assets” before to get a job or most anything else (even negotiating a
car price or getting some computer help) but this was different. This
was my CAREER. This was something that would be with me for the rest of
my life, hopefully at least in that I planned to teach for a long time.
How naïve I had been to have assumed I could just return to my old job
and someone erase the past.
Now what were Mr. Eisenberg’s intentions? He certainly didn’t seem to be
upset with me or angry. If anything, he had this Cheshire Cat smile
where his lips were tight together but the corners of his mouth curled up
like he was some mischievous boy caught peeking up the skirt of a girl at
school. He seemed to be getting some sort of perverted kick out my
discomfort. NOT exactly the kind of smile you like to see on the person
deciding your career’s future.
As for me, I wasn't accustomed to being in this situation. After all, I
was the one that was always in control, the one who called the shots. Oh
sure, sometimes I might let the guy THINK he was in control, but that was
just me allowing him to THINK he was, not that he really was. I has a
pretty good idea where he was leading to so the question was how far did
he intend to carry this out? After all, he WAS married and he did have
his own position to be concerned about. Even a hint of what he had said
to me so far could be enough to cost a man his job in this type of
unyielding environment.
Well, there was one way to find out without jumping TOO far over the
line. Staying seated in the chair, I simply uncrossed and then crossed
my legs again, far slower than necessary and this time not tugging my
skirt back down again but instead allowing it ride up higher than was
“decent”, at least so far as THIS school was concerned. It wasn't
exactly a Sharon Stone moment, but it would have certainly been enough to
get me thrown out on my cute butt with old Mr. Wright!
“Well, it appears we both understand the seriousness of the situation,”
Mr. Eisenberg said softly, putting his hands together with his fingertips
pressed against one another as he leaned forward on his desk on his
elbows to get a better look at me.
I twisted sideways in my chair such that the side of me with the most leg
showing was easier for him to see. I was rewarded by his eyes shifting
to my bare thighs, my ass now barely concealed as I allowed the skirt to
ride up even higher.
“Oh yes Miss Wells... I think you DO want the job, don't you?”
I just smiled at him and waited to see where he would go. Was this
enough? You never know with some men. Sometimes just a tease is all
they want, something to go home and masturbate about as they fantasize
about what might have happened under different circumstances. If this
was all I had to do to prove my determination – show a little upper leg,
then it would be the easiest I’d ever gotten out of such a situation.
Well, it WOULD have been the easiest...
“OK, I think you want the job, Miss Wells, but the questions is, how MUCH
do you want it?”
Like, I’d been around the proverbial block enough times to know what THAT
innuendo meant. OK, if that’s how he wanted to play... I smiled demurely
at him and slowly started to unbutton my blouse, each button seemingly
almost impossible to undo as one by one they finally came loose, exposing
a little more of my bra with each. I left the blouse tucked in, allowing
it to fall open but now as far it would have had to been loose. Finally
I had them all undone down to my skirt, the blouse now opening up just
enough to reveal my white bra and plenty of cleavage.
“Hmmmmmm, very nice, Miss Wells... very nice indeed. I see your
‘credentials’ are indeed flawless.”
It was all like a scene from a bad “B” movie or something. Where things
might have progressed to I'll never know because just then his intercom
buzzed, practically scaring me out of my chair. His secretary announced
that his next appointment was waiting. Frowning, he looked at me and
then shrugged his shoulders, telling her that he would be done with me
shortly.
“I’m sorry Miss Wells, I guess we’ll have to finish this interview
another time,” he apologized.
Indeed, he really DID seem sorry about it and looking at his dress pants
as he stood up, I could see why. I quickly buttoned my blouse back up,
then stood up and pulled my skirt down below my knees again. All prim
and proper once again!
“I'll be in touch with you soon Miss Wells,” he said, shaking my hand as
if nothing untoward had just happened, “I would suggest that in the mean
time you might want to think about how bad you want this job. I might
also need as closer look at your ‘credentials’ next time.”
God, where did he get these lines, some B-rated sex movie? I left his
office, smiling at the secretary as I departed. We knew each other from
when I was there before and she had always been very nice to me. I
wondered if she had any idea whatsoever what kind of man she was working
for now? Who knows, maybe she had to prove how bad she wanted her job as
well? Then again, she was about fifty so I doubted her “credentials”
were as good as they use to be.
Back in the parking lot, I sat in my car and let out a long, slow breath.
Oh my god, what was I getting myself into? Somehow I’d thought I would
leave all the escorting, lingerie modeling, toy demonstrating crap behind
me and start my teaching career anew, a new life being all prim and
proper. Sure, I’d always had fantasies about being the sexy school
teacher and such but that’s ALL they were – fantasies. Never in my
craziest moments had I ever even imagined ever actually DOING any of the
things I may have fantasized about. Yet here I was, not even officially
hired and already I was acting like a slut.
In my defense, I was being given little option and it certainly wasn't MY
idea, but did that make it OK? Maybe I should just decline the offer to
preserve my morals and ethics. It may be common practice and indeed, an
expectation to have to strip and what not for an escorting or stripper
job, but not to be a teacher! Yet at the same time, when would I have
another opportunity like this one? I had loved teaching her before and
to come back would be a dream come true.
All I DID know was that despite all the emotional upheavals and
uncertainties, my pussy was definitely wet as a result of all this
carrying on. Seeing Mr. Eisenberg’s eyes fixated on my thighs – and then
on my chest, was definitely a turn-on, especially considering WHERE we
were at the moment. I'll be the first to admit that I love it when men
look at me like that, even when I know I shouldn’t be encouraging it.
But then, how many girls would say otherwise if they were being honest?
I reached for my purse and keys, thinking about how good it would be to
get home where I could strip out of these constricting clothes and
masturbate. God I needed to do it so badly right now! In fact, the more
I thought about what had happened – and what MIGHT happen in the future,
the hotter it made me. Oh my god, I couldn't wait, I had to do something
NOW.
I looked all around and noted that the parking lot was deserted. It
would be over an hour before school was out so nobody should be coming
out for a while. One last look around and then I lifted my skirt up to
my waist, then quickly pulled my panties down and over my knees, then
over my heels, tossing them on the passenger seat next to me. Just
getting those damn things off was such a relief! The warmth of the car
seat felt so good on my bare ass as I leaned the seat back about half-way
and relaxed.
God it always feels so good when I touch myself! It was times like this
when just the slightest touch of my finger was enough to set me off. I
gasped as my forefinger traced tight circles around my sensitive clit,
teasing myself mercilessly. Reaching lower, I could feel that my pussy
was wet and my finger easily slid in, letting my palm rest on my clit as
I moved my finger further inside of me. Pulling it out quickly, I put my
finger in my mouth and savored the fresh taste of my pussy. God was I
ever horny! I had loved the taste of my pussy since the first time I
“explored” myself way back when I was younger but it always tasted better
when I was horny like I was now.
My free hand held my left breast through my blouse and bra. I needed to
get off – and fast, so I didn't bother undressing further. It felt good
just to hold my boob, pressing on it and squeezing it just enough to make
it tingle. My wet finger was back in my pussy now, soon to be joined by
a second as I finger- fucked myself. Oh god... it felt incredible! If
only they were a real dick!
“Oh Mr. Eisenberg... fuck me... fuck me hard,” I whispered hoarsely as I
envisioned myself underneath him as he prepared to violate me with his
engorged cock. “Oh yeah, deeper... all the way in me!” I cried out as I
felt my orgasm already starting to arise within me. Damn, it was as if
my body couldn't wait to get off!
“Oh god, FUCK ME Mr. Eisenberg!” I cried out.
Thankfully there wasn’t anyone around as with my windows rolled down it
must have been audible for at least a little ways. My orgasm came
crashing down on me, hitting me like a semi-truck broad-siding a car at
an intersection, a massive, cataclysmic reaction! Damn, that was quick!
It hadn’t taken hardly anything at all to get me off, but I was so damn
horny it didn't surprise me. With my fingers pushed deep in me, I
grabbed my hand that was in my pussy with the other, pressing it into me
even further. It was like being on the beach, the waves crashing into me
one by one as my orgasm swelled and ebbed, then rose yet again. Oh my,
it was SO good!
Exhausted but feeling oh so much better, I collapsed in the seat, my
hands cupping my hot pussy as I just laid there, trying to catch my
breath. It had hardly taken any time at all, but yet I felt like I’d
just run a marathon. My face felt like it was burning up and my entire
body felt warm and sweaty. Wow, talk about needing it... I hadn’t
realized just how badly I did.
Just then someone pulled into the parking lot so I straightened up my
seat back and pulled my skirt down a bit. I decided to leave my panties
off – what was the point in putting them on just to drive home? Besides,
it always felt so much better to be bare-ass. It only took me about
twenty minutes or so to get back home but by the time I was there, I
already had my free hand between my legs, ready to go for it again.
Parking the car in my favorite space, it was tempting to do myself again
right then and there but with my apartment only a few steps away, why not
wait another couple of minutes and do it right?
Less than five minutes layer I was undressed and laying naked on top of
my bed, leaning back against a stack of pillows with my knees in the air,
feet planted firmly on the bed, legs spread apart like a whore in heat.
Indeed, it was an apt description. If Mr. Eisenberg wanted a whore... I
would give him one, at least I did in my fantasies as I brought myself to
another orgasm – and yet another before I was finally done.
The room was dark when I opened my eyes. Wow, I must have crashed after
who knows how long I had been masturbating. Talk about being horny! I
giggled a little at myself as usually it was the GUY who fell asleep
after sex but then, given how long I’d masturbated and how many times I’d
come, I think it as safe to say that I’d earned it. As I got up to take
a shower, I started to think again about the day’s events – and my
reaction to it.
Crap, what had I done? It was bad enough that I’d gone along with the
charade and showed off my legs and bra to him; but to masturbate in the
parking later – and then for hours after I got home fantasizing more
about it? This wasn’t how this was suppose to have gone today. Indeed,
I had assumed it would be a short interview, a handshake congratulating
me and then a triumphant call on the way home to my best friends
trumpeting my success. They all knew where I was going this afternoon so
now what did I tell them? Not that it would shock them but I had really
hoped to impress them with my getting the job WITHOUT being slut.
By the time the shower was over I’d rationalized everything pretty well.
Sure Mr. Eisenberg had known about me but he just wanted to tease me a
bit before giving me the job. It was probably a favor to the old
administrator. The school HAD to fill the position and so far as I knew,
I was the only candidate so he HAD to hire me sooner or later. Most
likely the next call I would get would be to tell me I had “passed” my
final interview and then offer me the job.
Yep, everything was going to be alright... just the way I’d planned.
Chapter 4 - Preparing For My Final “Interview”
===============================================
It was two days before I got THE phone call. Two days of suspense,
second- guessing, and increasing worry. Two days of stalling my prying
friends who were anxious to know if I had my old job back or not. Two
days of putting off my dad’s repeated questions. Two LONG days. Two
centuries it seemed.
When it finally DID come, it was a surprise because I didn’t recognize
the number on the caller ID. All my previous contacts had been from the
school secretary and so I had her name and number in my address book. As
it turned out, it wasn't the secretary who called me but Mr. Eisenberg
himself. That was unusual and the alarms started to go off in my head.
“Hello Miss Wells, I was just calling to see if we could finish your
final interview. I apologize for the interruption last time. Things
seemed to be going well and I am sure with just a little more time I can
make a final determination on your application.”
So far... so good.
“With all the interruptions at the school, I thought it might be best to
meet somewhere else, if that’s OK with you.”
Really, what could I say? As if I had any option other to say that is
was fine with me.
“Great, how about lunch at the Holiday Inn across from the mall, say
Sunday at noon? I hear they have a great brunch on Sundays.”
That took me a little by surprise. An interview for a Christian school
position on a Sunday? My church services were usually done by 11:30 so
that wouldn't be a problem but still...Again, what choice did I have?
“Great, look forward to see in you there – a lot more of you. I hope
you’ve been thinking about what I suggested.”
Not exactly subtle, was he?
I hung up the phone and tossed it on my bed. What the heck was I getting
myself into now? Under any other circumstances it would have been like a
dream come true – meeting a married man at a hotel restaurant, knowing he
had the hots for me. But this was different. This wasn't ME making the
call. This wasn't ME luring him from his bitchy wife, pushing him and
teasing him until his willpower collapsed and he caved in to his more
primal desires. This time I was the one being played. He was holding
something near and precious to me over my head – my teaching career.
Being blackmailed somehow took the eroticism out of the situation. How
would I explain this to my father? I sort of doubted that he would be
proud of his daughter for getting her new job in this way. Sure, he was
proud of me for being a slut, but that was when it came to teasing the
guys, not professionally.
The answer was simple – I wouldn't tell him! I normally never kept
secrets from my father but this was one time I simply couldn't tell him
the truth. When I got the job – and I knew I would, no matter WHAT I may
have to do to get it, he would be proud of me and the issue of HOW I got
it would probably never come up.
Sunday morning arrived before I knew it and I woke up to the blaring of
my alarm clock. Dang it, I had to get going! I only had an hour to get
to my dad’s if there was going to be time for our “Sunday morning
tradition” and I had so much to get ready.
Last night I’d prepared two outfits for today, one for church and one for
my “interview”. It would have been fun to wear the second one to church
as well – a pink mini-dress with plunging cleavage and the tiniest
spaghetti straps barely keeping it over my boobs. I loved it especially
because it made my boobs look great! It wasn't the shorter dress in my
closet but it was one of the shorter ones, just long enough for me to go
without panties without having to worry about being arrested for public
exposure! Yet as much as I loved it – and I knew my dad did too, it
wouldn't have gone over well in church, at least not publicly. I’m sure
most of the men, and maybe some of the women, would have appreciated it
but odds were I would’ve been asked to leave before even getting in the
sanctuary!
So in addition to the pink dress, I picked out a longer black skirt and
white blouse, an outfit similar to the one I’d worn to my last job
interview in fact. It was still enough to draw some glares from more
than a few of the older ladies in the church, but they didn't bother me
considering the appreciative stares I got from the men!
One thing I’ve always prided myself on and that is the ability to get
myself ready quickly. I know so many girls that make it an ordeal to get
themselves ready, spending hours in the bathroom doing lord knows what.
In just 45 minutes I’d showered, shaved, done my hair and makeup, and was
looking in the mirror to check out my dress!
My pussy tingled as I imagined my dad waiting for me. We had been doing
this for years now, a quickie before church. The idea was to do it as
close to leaving for church as possible, after we had dressed and were
about to go. It wasn't a time for extensive petting and such, just a
quick fucking with him cumming inside of me. The idea was first, by
cumming in me it kept my outfit clean; and second, it also meant that
when we sat in the pews I was holding load of his fresh cum inside of me,
often times even leaking out a bit! It was what I call true wholesome
family fun – a father-daughter thing that we had turned into a sort of
tradition and it was a rare Sunday we skipped our brief time together.
Pulling into the driveway, I recognized the car at the bottom of the
driveway in front of the garage. Dang it, my Aunt Linda was already
here. For that matter, maybe she had spent the night. In recent months
she had been spending more and more time with my dad. At first I had
been a bit jealous, feeling like it was sort of a betrayal of my mother
but I realized that that my dad had needs too. Now with my mom gone I
guess it was only natural for him and Aunt Linda to be closer. After
all, they had been high school sweethearts at one time and he HAD been
fucking her ever since, even if he DID end up marrying her older sister
instead of her. Still, Sunday mornings were our special time together
and she knew that so why was she here?
I went in through the garage entry and was surprised to see my Aunt
standing there waiting for me. She gave me a smile and a hug and then
turned to me.
“Now don't worry Kelly, I know what you must be thinking. Yes, I did
spend the night but don’t worry, I know what this time means to you – and
him, so I would never DREAM of getting the way. He’s upstairs so go do
your thing.”
I kissed her on the cheek and headed upstairs. Now THAT hadn’t turned
out so bad. I checked my watch... dang it, we would have to hurry if we
were going to get to church on time! Fortunately, my dad was waiting for
me in the foyer, in his suit and all ready for church. So many people
dressed causal for church these days but my dad was still as it and tie
guy. It was his turn to look at his watch and he shook his head while
grinning at me.
“Cutting it a little close, aren’t we baby?” he chuckled as he unzipped
his pants and pulled out his dick, “You’d better get to work!”
My dad was already semi-erect which pleased me more than he may have
known. It was good to know after all these years that my dad could still
get an erection in anticipation of fucking me! I quickly got down to my
knees, the Oriental floor runner cushioning me as I knelt in front of his
dick, almost like I was praying. His dick was soon in my mouth and he
groaned as I took all of it in.
“That’s my girl... that’s my precious daughter... suck your daddy’s cock.
God you look so beautiful with my dick in your mouth.”
I looked up at him and our eyes met as I kept his dick firmly in my
mouth. My heart swelled as I saw him looking down at me, watching me
suck his dick. He looked so happy and that made me feel so good inside,
knowing I was fulfilling my duties as his daughter, pleasing my dad as
only a daughter can please her father. Sure, having any girl suck his
cock would be good, but I knew it had to be special for him to look down
and see his own daughter taking his dick in her mouth.
There wasn't a lot of time for foreplay and he seemed pretty horny so I
figured we’d better get to it. I dropped his dick from my mouth and
stood up, turning away from him towards the stairs leading to the second
floor. I balanced myself holding the railing as I raised one foot to the
first step, exposing my bare ass to him as I lifted my skirt up – no
panties of course!
“God you have such a sweet little ass!” he hissed as he reached under the
skirt to hold me by my bare hips.
Mmmmmmm, I could feel the head of his hard dick pressing against my
exposed bottom. It may not have been as little as it was back when I was
sixteen and he first started fucking me, but I was still pretty proud of
it and he knew it, always making sure to compliment me about it.
“Oh daddy... yes!” I cried out softly as I felt the wonderful sensation
of my father’s incestuous erection entering me.
I was already soaking wet with anticipation which allowed his cock head
to easily penetrate me, pushing its way all the up in me until I felt the
hairy bush of his crotch against my naked ass. There was no time to
waste and so he started pumping it in and out of me, not saying a word at
first as he concentrated on his dick inside of me, his wonderful dick
inside of his adoring daughter.
“Fuck me daddy... fuck me and show me that you really still love me,” I
repeated over and over as he huffed and puffed from the exertion. After
all, he wasn't a teenager anymore!
“Yeah baby... daddy’s gonna cum in you, daddy’s gonna fuck that tight
little cunt of yours and fill you with his cum.”
“Oh daddy, I want it... I want your cum in me..., fuck me daddy...
please fuck me more! Love me daddy!”
“Ohhhhhh!” he groaned as I felt him ram it extra hard in me and hold
himself still in me as his hips thrust into me over and over, each time
with a load of his incestuous cum spurting from him and depositing itself
inside of me.
God I loved this most of all, feeling him cumming in me, leaving a part
of himself in me. I loved knowing I was making him do it, that he lusted
for me enough to cum in me... to literally mate with his only daughter.
“That’s it daddy, give it to me,, give me your cum daddy, show me how
much you love me daddy... show me how much you love me.”
Indeed, what more can a father do to demonstrate his true love for his
daughter than to enter her and cum inside of her? It was the ultimate
act of love - and respect. Sex is the most perfect way for a father and
daughter to be together, the most natural and proper way.
Just as fast as he’d cum, it was over. When he pulled his already
dwindling dick out of me it was like there was this empty place inside of
me, like something was missing. But I smiled as I felt his incestuous
cum draining from me, serving as a memory of what he had just done to me,
a physical symbol of a father’s love for his daughter.
“We’d better get going or we’ll be late for church,” he warned me,
tucking his still almost soft cock into his pants and zipping them up.
“Dang it daddy, you really came a lot in me!” I exclaimed as I reached
down and used my fingers to wipe off some of the cum that had started to
run down my inner thigh.
Mmmmmmm, it tasted so good! Actually, I was more than a little surprised
he HAD cum so much in me. I would’ve thought he had fucked Aunt Linda
this morning but obviously they didn't do it for some reason. My heart
burst as I considered how really sweet it was of the two of them to let
him save it all for me!
All ready again, I followed my dad downstairs where Linda was waiting
impatiently, arms folded and foot tapping. She looked at her watch
melodramatically and shook her head.
“Well, looks like we’re going to be late now, I hope it was worth it.”
She was just teasing and I knew it. Grinning proudly, I pulled up my
skirt and spread my legs, then reached down and used my fingers to get
some of the cum that had drained from me as I had made my way downstairs.
“Oh my, don't you think you should wear some panties girl?” she asked me,
shaking her head, “You know, you’re getting to be as bad as your cousin!”
“Getting?” my dad laughed and we all had to laugh together at that.
We drove separately as I told my dad I had a lunch date after church. He
didn't question me as to who it was with – and I didn't volunteer so that
went over pretty easily. It WAS the truth after all, just maybe not ALL
the truth.
Sitting towards the front of church (our penalty for being late), I could
feel his cum draining from me even more. It was tempting to lift my
skirt and reach in for another taste but THAT wouldn't have been very
smart in the middle of a crowded church, especially with the pastor just
a few feet in front of us.
With my skirt being so dark I just had to hope that any wet spots
wouldn’t show through. Then again, I would be changing as soon as the
service was over anyway so who cared? It was hard to concentrate on the
service with the sensations of my freshly fucked pussy converging with
the anticipation of what might happen after church.
I wondered what the guy sitting next to me in the pew would have thought
had he known what was going through my mind - and out my pussy, as we
stood next to each other and sang the next hymn. Even better, imagine if
he knew WHO’S cum was still draining from me!
Fortunately the service finished on time and I gave my dad and Aunt Linda
a kiss goodbye. Rushing to my car, I actually drove back to his house,
knowing they would be heading out for dinner before returning. Changing
in the car would have been crazy so I just ran inside long enough to slip
on my other dress. First, though, I went to the bathroom to clean off my
cum-encrusted pussy. All- in-all, I was pretty much a mess and the last
thing I thought Mr. Eisenberg would like would be to see my pussy coated
with another man’s cum! Funny thing is, without actually thinking about
it I’d apparently already decided that he would be seeing my pussy!
Hmmm, I wonder what else I would be doing before the day was over? I
think I had a pretty good idea!
Chapter 4 – How Bad Did I Want the Job?
=======================================
It was a few minutes after noon when I drove up to the hotel and searched
frantically for a parking spot. The “after church” lunch crowd was
already there in force and so I ended up way out in back before I finally
found a place to squeeze into. Turning off the ignition, as late as I
was I sat there for a moment with both hands firmly gripping the steering
wheel, eyes closed as I prayed and try to prepare myself for what I
assumed was about to happen.
It’s funny how the same actions and events can have totally different
results, simply because of the circumstances involved. Had I been here
to meet some husband from church, perhaps cheating on his wife and
anxious to do about anything to spend the afternoon with me, I would have
been excited and wet with anticipation. Yet here I was, basically about
to do exactly just that, yet somehow I felt more anxious than excited,
dirty instead of slutty, resigned versus horny. Definitely NOT excepted
and wet.
For a girl who prided herself on being a slut, I certainly wasn't feeling
very good about myself now. Maybe it was because this job meant so much
to me. I’d dreamed for most of my life of being a teacher, worked hard
in school, sacrificed so much to achieve my goal and now, just as I was
about to reach it, I found myself having to use my body instead of my
credentials to realize my dream. Had it been any other job or position I
wouldn't have hesitated a bit to use every “asset” I had – hey, why not
use what you got? This was special though, this was about me becoming a
teacher based on my credentials and skills, not my looks and sexual
skills.
Yet in the end, what option did I have? Sure, I could get all high and
mighty and claim I was sticking to my morals. That would mean walking
away from this job and waiting for who knows how long before something
else opened up. The last thing I wanted was to spend another school year
stripping and modeling lingerie while I watched kids going off to school,
knowing I wasn't in front of the class teaching them. I mean, like I was
24 now and not getting any younger. It was time to get my career
started. Besides, it wasn’t like Mr. Eisenberg was all that bad. He WAS
pretty good looking and I was sure he would be extremely discreet as he
had far more to lose than I did if any of this ever became public
knowledge.
I bowed my head, said a final quick prayer, and took a deep breath.
Letting it out slowly, I put my head back and opened my eyes, filled with
a new determination. If this was what it took, a few hours of letting
some pervert have his way with me, then what was the big deal anyway? No
matter what happened, by the time I ate supper it would all be over and
the job would be mine. If anything, on the bright side I figured my job
security would be pretty good considering the “goods” I would have on Mr.
Eisenberg after today!
Stepping out of my car, I tried to pull my hem down as my dress had
ridded up to my waist as I drove. It was then I noticed a family walking
by, the parents with the standard issue two kids, a boy and girl that
looked to be in their young teens. I couldn't help but smile as the
mother turned the boy’s head from me as he must have noticed my brief
“flash” as I stepped out of my car. Boy... if looks could kill, hers
would have melted me down on the spot! The husband was eyeing me as well
so I just grinned at him and clutched my purse as I followed them into
the hotel lobby.
The restaurant was off to one side and I was about to head down the hall
when I heard someone calling my name. I looked and there seated in the
lobby, was Mr. Eisenberg. He was getting to his feet and gesturing for
me to come over to him.
“Hello Miss Wells, glad to see you showed up. I wasn’t sure after out
last interview if you really wanted the position or not.”
Yeah right, like there was any doubt. His eyes were running up and down
my body, noticeably pausing as he took in my boobs and legs. God, what a
perv! But then, a girl doesn't wear a dress like the one I had on unless
she WANTS a guy to do just what he was doing! After all, what was the
point of dressing like a slut if nobody noticed?
“So shall we go have lunch now?” I suggested, gesturing with my hand
towards the restaurant entrance where people were lining up to be seated.
Although I’d never eaten brunch here, I’d heard it was good and judging
from the crowd, the rumors were apparently true. We would probably have
to wait a half hour or so just to be seated.
“Well... I wanted to talk to you about that,” he said slowly, barely
audible even though I was right up next to him now. “I’m not so sure
it’s a good idea for the two of us to be seen together in public –
especially dressed the way you are. Not that I don’t like it of course.
It does a fine job of showing off... your ‘credentials’, you know what I
mean?”
My eyes narrowed at him, as if I was surprised by what he was saying.
Sheesh, back to those horrible lines again. Couldn't he say anything
without using such tired old crappy clichés? Actually, what WOULD have
surprised me the most would have been if we actually DID have lunch in
public like this. Odds were SOMEONE would see us and then the gossip
would start. I’m sure the last thing he needed was someone asking his
wife why he was seeing a new teacher at a Sunday brunch – a teacher
wearing the sluttiest dress in the room.
“But I thought we were going to do my final interview?” I asked,
pretending to not know where he was going with this. Like, I would have
to have been a totally idiot not to know already.
“Well, I just thought we could do it somewhere... more private,” he
suggested. Then he finally came out with it and said, “I booked a room
where we can do your interview without drawing too much attention. Is
that OK with you?”
Shrugging, I tried to look as if I had to make a decision but in reality,
this was all going exactly the way I’d expected. I mean if you think a
guy invites you to a hotel for an interview where you are expected to
show “how bad” you want a job just to have a discussion over lunch, then
you’re too dumb to be teaching!
“Sounds good to me, I’m sure you’ll be impressed,” I replied with a
naughty little smile. It was just enough to let him know I was “in” on
his plans, even if he hadn’t come right out and stated them.
“Great, let’s get going then.”
I followed him to the elevators as he looked around to make sure nobody
was watching us. For him, the was probably the most “dangerous” moment
where someone might see him getting into the elevator with me. It would
be awfully hard to explain to his wife, that was for sure! As it was, we
entered the elevator alone and he pressed the button for our floor.
Neither of us said a word as it took us up and the doors opened again.
Mr. Eisenberg led me down the hall to the room, never even looking at me
as he opened the door and walked in with me trailing close behind like a
puppy dog.
As I stepped inside the room, I could see it was your standard issue
Holiday Inn – two double beds, a TV mounted to the dresser with a small
round table and two chairs next to it. It was pretty warm and stuffy so
he turned on the AC unit under the window. It was pretty loud but I
could feel the blast of cool air almost immediately.
Mr. Eisenberg turned and stood there across the room from me, both of us
quiet as we waited for the other to make the first move. If there was
one thing I was sure of though, HE was going to be the one to initiate
anything. It was bad enough I was essentially whoring myself out for a
job. The least he could do is leave me with no option so I wouldn't have
to wonder forever afterwards if I could’ve possibly gotten by without
doing what I knew I would likely have to do.
“Well, well Miss Wells, so here we are.”
I stood there silently, smiling at him to try to put him at ease but
otherwise waiting for him to continue.
“I think we both know what this ‘interview’ is really all about, don't
we,” he said quietly , more a statement than a question. I just nodded
slightly and waited for more.
“I just want you to know I’ve never done anything like this before,” he
said, suddenly looking a little unsure of himself.
“So why now then?” I asked softly, “We can stop now... nothing has
happened yet.”
Mr. Eisenberg sighed and I could see the struggle that was within him.
In a way, I could sympathize with him. I’d been in similar situations
before where it all seemed so hot and wild to talk about something and
even fantasize about it; but when it came to the actual DOING of it,
that’s when the reality sank in.
“Maybe we should forget about all of this,” he said, “I don't know what I
was thinking.”
Suddenly I felt this surge of anger. Damn him anyway. He’d put me
through all this and now he was going to chicken out, I just knew it.
Odds were he would then find some excuse not to hire me and then it would
be my word against his as to why he’d changed his mind – and who would
believe me over him, especially if he revealed anything about why I’d
left in the first place.
“How bad do you want the job?”
Yes, that was the question he had left me with in his office and now I
was ready to show him. Indeed, I wanted the job and I wanted it BAD – so
bad I’d resigned to whoring myself to get it. Now this idiot thought he
could just change his mind and back out of the deal? Noooooo, I don't
think so.
One thing about this pink dress, it not only didn't hide very much, but
it barely stayed on me so when I wanted to take it off, all it took was a
quick shake of my upper body to let the straps fall off my shoulders and
the whole thing would slip down to the floor. That’s exactly what I did
now – a little shake and the next thing he knew I was standing there
totally naked in front of him. Well, not TOTALLY if you count my jewelry
and heels but close enough. His eyes bugged out and his mouth dropped
open like a fish out of water before he caught himself and took a deep
breath.
“Now Mr. Eisenberg, you told me in your office that you wanted me to
prove how much I wanted the position... so what do you think?”
“Miss Well...” he stammered, “please put your dress back on. I’m
serious... please stop right now.”
“Oh come now Mr. Eisenberg,” I purred as I put one bare leg up on the bed
and cupped my naked crotch with my hand, “I saw how you looked at me. I
bet you’ve been dreaming all week of seeing me like this, haven’t you?”
It was like he was frozen place, unable to move. I knew his brain was
telling him to leave the room, FAST, before he did something he could
never undo. At the same time, I saw the unmistakable signs of an
erection starting to form under his suit pants and I knew what was
happening. It was a classic struggle between the big head and little
head. I knew well that as the little head grew in size and strength, it
would soon overwhelm the big head.
It was like I was a mercenary supplying arms to the resistance. All I
had to do was help his dick gain control and he would be mine. It was
just too easy, like shooting fish in a barrel as I knew exactly what to
do.
“My pussy’s so hot right now... it’s soooooo wet,” I teased him
naughtily, “It wants YOU Mr. Eisenberg... don’t you want it?”
Oh he wanted it, that was obvious. Like what man wouldn’t want a 24
year-old pussy as the girl played with herself in front of him? From the
family pictures I’d seen in his office, it wasn’t like his wife was all
that frumpy, but I bet she’d never looked like I did right now and odds
were she never masturbated in front of him either – as I started to do
for him.
“Mmmmmmm, it’s so wet Mr. Eisenberg, I’ve been thinking all week about
you... about you and me... about you fucking me.”
He visibly winced when I said “fucking me”, as if I’d exposed his secret
desires. I WAS wet - and getting wetter by the minute, but it wasn’t so
much my finger that I now had pressed inside my pussy that was turning me
on.. it was his eyes fixated on my bare crotch as I did it that had me
going. Oh yeah, he wanted me... he wanted me bad. It was time to get
him involved a little more...
Putting my leg back down, I put my finger that had been in m pussy up to
my mouth and licked my pussy wetness from it before putting it in my
mouth and sucking off the rest. He looked so turned on and I knew he was
ready for the next thing I had in mind for him. Moving up close to him,
I reached down and started unbuckling his belt. His hands instantly went
over mine, trying to stop me with a half-hearted effort.
“This has to stop now Miss Wells... now!” he burst out.
The fervor of his words weren't exactly matched by the strength in his
hands. As big as he was compared to me, he could have easily stopped me
had he REALLY wanted to but instead I was able to push him aside and soon
his belt was undone. Next was the button and the zipper as his hands
hung limply to his side, making no further effort to stop me. I pulled
his pants down, together with his white jockey shorts, to his ankles.
His dick was maybe half to three-quarters erect by now and it stuck out
past the tails of his dress shirt, the head poking out like a gopher
checking out the area before emerging from his hole.
I kneeled in front of him and grabbed his dick with my hand. Mmmmmmm, it
felt so warm! He wasn't exactly steel rod hard yet but the promise of
near-future stiffness was definitely there. I looked up at him and our
eyes met.
“You asked me how much I wanted the job Mr. Eisenberg,” I told him in a
husky whisper, “Now I’m going to show you... and then you’re going to
give me the job.”
He looked like he wanted to say something, maybe protest a little but it
was too late for him now, he was mine My hand on his dick may as well
have been around his neck. He knew I was about to suck his dick and at
this moment there was nothing more in the world that he wanted other than
to feel my lips caressing his cock, my tongue playing over his shaft as I
took his stiff cock in my mouth.
“Oh my god,” he whimpered, almost choking on his words as I took his dick
in my mouth and began to work on it with my lips and tongue, “That feels
incredible... so good.”
His words were like music to my ears. If there’s one thing I love to do,
it’s suck dick and to hear a man tell me how much he enjoys it, how good
I am at sucking him... well who doesn’t like to be complimented on their
skills? Actually, he seemed even more appreciative than I would have
expected this early on and suddenly a thought struck me!
“Doesn’t your wife suck your dick Mr. Eisenberg?” I asked, stroking his
now wet dick as I looked up at him quizzically.
“Hell no, she never has... she says oral sex is dirty, sinful,” he
gasped. His hips were making little mini-thrusts, as if he was trying to
hint at me to take it back in my mouth again.
“So you’ve NEVER had a BJ before?” I asked in incredulously. He just
shook his head as if he was too embarrassed to answer. Wow, a BJ virgin!
Now this I hadn’t expected.
Back to his dick I went with a renewed determination to make his first
blowjob a memorable one – as if it wouldn't be no matter HOW I sucked
him. It amazed me in this day and age that a man his age had never had
his dick sucked, not even as a teenager. Like, there are so many
different parties these days where girls do BJs for fun that I don't see
how any boy can NOT get blown if he really wants it.
Although Mr. Eisenberg wasn’t THAT old, I wasn't sure what his recovery
time would be so I didn’t want him to cum after just a BJ. Yet at the
same time, I wanted him to enjoy it as much as possible. I wanted him to
see what a good BJ I could give. Who knows, maybe someday he might get
another and I didn’t want him to think it was better than mine!
His dick was full grown now, as stiff as it was going to get. His crotch
had this thick musky odor that a man gets when he is really horny and
turned on. My hand cupped his hairy balls, softly rolling them between
my fingers as my other hand rubbed my pussy. I always loved to touch
myself while I blew a cock – like getting a “two-fer”.
As I said, as much as I enjoyed sucking his dick, I didn’t want to spend
all afternoon waiting for it to get hard again so I stopped short of him
cumming. When I dropped his dick out of my mouth and stood up, he seemed
almost heart- broken as no doubt he had been imagining himself cumming in
my mouth. Well, not today – at least not yet. His sadness melted,
though, when he heard my next words.
“So your wife hates oral sex, huh?”
He just nodded with a frown on his face.
“So you’ve never tasted a pussy before?”
“Well, not directly,” he stuttered. I figured that meant he must have
tasted it on his fingers or something like that after he’d touched her
pussy.
“Didn't any of the other girls you dated suck your dick?”
My wife and I saved ourselves for marriage,” he replied, a note of pride
seeping into his voice.
Why people felt proud about foregoing sex before marriage was beyond me
but hey, it that’s what he wanted then I respected him for it. Still,
that meant I was only the second girl he’d had sex with! Cool!
“Well, I want you to lick my pussy now Mr. Eisenberg,” I said in a soft
but demanding tone, “I want to feel your tongue on my hot wet cunt.”
Much as I usually steer away from the “c” word, it seemed to turn him on
for me to be a little more “dirty” for him. No doubt his wife never even
called hers a pussy in front of him, let alone a cunt.
He didn't say a word as I stepped back to the bed. I pulled off the
comforter (who knows WHAT I son those filthy things!) and laid back
against the pillows, lifting my knees so my feet were flat on the bed
with my feet spread far apart do my pussy was on full display for him.
He just stood at the edge of the bed, staring at me as I started to play
with myself again for him.
“You like my little pussy Mr. Eisenberg?” I asked him in my best “little
girl” voice. “I bet it’s tighter than your wife’s. Does she shave her
pussy like mine?”
He didn't answer, instead he just watched as I used both hand to touch
myself, opening my pussy, spreading my lips apart as I toyed with my clit
and used two fingers inside of me to masturbate for him. God, I was so
damn horny by now! Really, I would’ve much rather he just got down and
fucked me now instead of an amateurish pussy licking but then whole point
of doing all this was to demonstrate to him how bad I wanted the job, not
my own personal satisfaction. Hopefully he liked the look of my
“credentials”!
“Lick my cunt Mr. Eisenberg,” I invited him. Mmmmmmm, I was so close to
having my own orgasm by now that it wouldn't take much to set me off now
- even a first- timer would be enough. Now if he would just hurry and
get to it!
Mr. Eisenberg was still half-dressed so first he took off his shoes and
socks, followed by his blue tie, white dress shirt and white cotton t-
shirt. Now he was nude and I have to say, not bad looking... not bad at
all! The thing that most interested me, his dick, was still ramrod hard
as it pointed upward without any assistance. God was he horny as well!
Working his way onto the bed, Mr. Eisenberg got between my legs and laid
down on his elbows with his lower legs and feet hanging off the end of
the bed. He started to caress my inner thighs, a part of me that LOVES
to be softly touched!
“You have the most sensational legs Miss Wells,” he complimented me.
By now I’d had enough of this “Miss Wells” thing so I corrected him,
telling him to call me Kelly.
“That’s my wife’s name – Miss Kelly,” he explained, his eyes suddenly
looking up as if he was worried something would come down from heaven and
strike him down.
Ahhhhhh... so THAT was why he kept calling me that. It was one thing to
have sex with another women for the first time, but to have it with a
girl whose name was the same as his wife’s was undoubtedly a little weird
for him. Well, at least he didn’t have to worry about calling out my
name should he fantasize about me the next time he and his wife had sex!
Guess it also made it easy for him to keep track of the names of the
girls he had fucked.
Without further discussion, he lowered his head to my crotch and
tentatively reached out with his tongue to touch my pussy. Fortunately,
he manage to hit my hyper-sensitive clit dead-on the first time, making
me jump just a little as it sent out a jolt of electricity throughout my
body.
“Ohhhhhh,” I moaned, no pretending required. Indeed, there is nothing
better on my clit than a warm wet tongue.
As it turned out, he really wasn't all that bad at licking me, especially
considering he’d never done it before. Of course, it didn’t hurt that
I’d worked myself up so well ahead of time that he could’ve done just
about anything and I would’ve gotten off. Indeed, when he had his tongue
just inside of my pussy, his nose pressed against my clit, I DID have my
first orgasm of the afternoon. My hips thrust up against this face as I
wrapped my legs around his head, pulling him into me, not wanting his
tongue to stop touching me.
“Oh fuck I’m cumming Mr. Eisenberg,” I panted, barely able to say the
words as my orgasm overwhelmed me, “You’re making me cum so good! You
make me feel so good!”
God... I wanted him to fuck me. Heck, I NEEDED him to fuck me.
My orgasm was slowly dwindling but I couldn’t wait any longer. It was no
longer a question of “demonstrating how much I wanted the job” or proving
my “credentials” or any of that crap. It had nothing to do with his
sweet wife sitting at home, unaware of her husband’s adulterous acts with
me. No, this was for ME. It was like I felt I would just die if his
dick wasn't in me – and in me as fast as possible. My pussy was almost
cramping with the anticipation of a warm dick inside and all I knew was I
desperate to feel him fuck me, fuck me hard and then cum inside of me.
“Fuck me Mr. Eisenberg!” I begged him.
There was nothing fake about it, nothing for a show, nothing to get him
off. It was all me wanting it now.
“PLEASE fuck me,” I pleaded, wanting him in me so badly.
God, why wouldn't he fuck me?
Finally he mounted me missionary style, probably the only position he’d
ever fucked his wife. His face was wet with my pussy cum and his eyes
had that look of lust that appears when a man is at that state where the
only option is sex. Indeed, he didn't hesitate for even a second. Not
for a moment did he question what he was doing, the seriousness of the
act he was about to commit.
If it bothered the jerk to commit adultery for the first time in his
life, you would have been hard-pressed to know it. At this moment, I
imagined about the last thing on his mind was the other Kelly in his
life, his wife and life-partner. His vows to her were forgotten.
Mmmmmmm, I knew at this moment he wanted to fuck ME - and only ME.
“That’s it, put it in me,” I gasped as I felt the head of his dick trying
to find it’s place at the entrance to my pussy.
Once he was there I knew all it would take was one big push from him and
he would be in me, fucking me like he’d never fucked another girl before.
He fumbled with his dick, obviously nervous and anxious at the same time,
unwittingly driving me insane as my pussy craved the feeling of his cock.
Damn, find it for god’s sake! It’s not like I was all dry and shrunken
and hard to fuck. My pussy was soaking wet and ready, as ready as it
ever would be. Fuck! Would he EVER fuck me?
FINALLY!
I felt the tip of his dick slip barely into me, the mere suggestion of
his cock at the entrance to my slutty pussy enough to practically make me
cum again. What the hell was taking him so damn long? Surely he wanted
to fuck me as bad I wanted him too. Why didn’t he just fuck me and get
it over with? Any thoughts of why I was there vanished, any feelings of
guilt or remorse had long since evaporated. The truth of the matter was
that I didn't give a damn about him anymore at this point. All I could
think about, all my mind could comprehend, was the feeling of that cock
just barely in ME, about ME wanting it all the way, all the way inside of
ME. Damn I needed to be fucked SO bad! Fuck ME damn it!
“OH YES!” I cried out as without warning his dick suddenly rammed it’s
way deep inside of my cunt.
Once he finally had it right he simply grunted as he pushed hard and
forced his wonderfully hard dick all the way into me in one fast
movement. Mmmmmmm, it felt SO much better to feel him in me, like I was
now complete, like a missing part of me was had returned and taken its
rightful place. The prodigal son had returned and my pussy was putting
on a party for him to celebrate!
“Damn, you’re so fucking tight!” he whispered between heavy breaths as he
started to pump me like an oil rig.
Now that was music to any girl’s ears! I may not be sixteen any more and
more than a few dicks had pummeled by pussy over the years, but I’m still
tighter than most girls years younger than me (or so I’m told) and I knew
I HAD to be a hell of a lot tighter than his wife after the kids.
“That’s it Mr. Eisenberg, faster... fuck me faster... oh fuck me harder!”
I moaned over and over as he rocked back and forth over me.
My boobs were bouncing up and down as he literally shoved me backwards
against the pillows with each pounding thrust, then backing out of me
slowly only to be followed by another rapid thrust, driving his dick
rapidly up inside of me. Then he would hold himself there, buried to the
hilt for a few sensational seconds, his pubic hair mashed against my bare
pussy, just throbbing inside of me. Then without a word, he drew it back
slowly again, like an archer drawing back an arrow on his bow, only to
thrust it wildly into me yet again like the archer releasing his arrow.
I was cumming again... oh my god was I cumming again! It was like the
first time had been just a warm-up, just a preview of things yet to cum
as my orgasm swelled within me. My exploding pussy clamped down on his
dick like a vise, gripping him and holding him inside of me, never
wanting to release him.
“OH I’M CUMMING!” I cried even louder this time. Fortunately it was just
after lunch and odds were nobody was in the rooms next to us. Even if
they had been, so what? Why else would anyone be locked away in a hotel
room on a day like today other than to have sex?
My legs wrapped around his ass as I tried to pull him even deeper into
me. My boobs felt like they were about to explode with pleasure as my
orgasm ebbed and flowed, like waves in a tidal pool swishing back and
forth over every inch of my body. It had been a while since I’d cum this
hard and I wanted to enjoy every second of it. He was just holding
himself still over me, letting my pussy grip his cock and gush over it,
listening to me babble to him about how good it felt and how bad I wanted
him to keep fucking me. He was about to start pumping me again when I
had another idea instead.
“Over...” was all I said, more of a grunt but as I twisted my body he
seemed to get the idea.
He laid down tight against me and we rolled as one, barely avoiding
falling off the edge of the double bed in the process but once he was on
the bottom he scooted over towards the center again, leaving me perched
on his dick like a marshmallow on a stick. I was on top now with his
dick still in me – nice move considering I doubted he’d ever done that
maneuver before.
“You wife ever ride you like this?” I panted, the final throes of my
orgasm still pulsing in me as I put my hands on his chest as I rose up on
my knees, keeping his dick barely in me.
“Never... only one way with her,” he managed to finally get out, trying
to catch his breath.
I started to pump my ass up and down on his cock, not really bobbing up
and down with my entire body but doing 90% of the work with just my hips
and butt, like a hula dancer doing her thing while mounted on his dick.
I loved the control, to be the one to determine how fast he went in and
out, how deep he fucked me, everything about it. Sometimes I would just
sit down on his crotch, putting my full weight down on my pussy, pushing
him as deep up in me as I could. I looked down between my legs and
smiled as all that was visible of his dick was a patch of his curly pubic
hair between him and me, the rest of him had disappeared deep in me – as
if that wonderful feeling I get when a man is in me didn't already tell
me.
He seemed to be enjoying it as much as me. First he had his hands on my
bare hips, helping me to rise up and down on his dick and then he moved
to my boobs as I leaned forward just a bit to make it easier for him or
grasp them. I lowered myself further until my nipples were in his face
and he hungrily sucked on one and then the other like he was starving to
eat them. Mmmmmmm, it felt so good to feel him suck hard on my sensitive
nipples as I wiggled my ass around his cock!
“Ever fuck a girl doggie before?” I asked him after fucking him on top
for a while.
I was 99.9% sure what the answer would be and the look on his face told
me that I had been too cautious in my earlier estimate. Oh well, why not
let him try as many new things as possible? I rose up on his dick but
before he could get up I was leaning over his crotch, taking his dick in
my mouth yet again. Mmmmmmm, I LOVE the taste of a dick right after it’s
been in me when I cum. The taste of my pussy was strong on his cock and
the only thing better would be if his cum was mixed in as well.
After the fucking he had given me I only sucked his dick for a few
minutes or else I’m sure he would have erupted. I got on all fours, my
ass facing me with my knees apart to give him a good view of my pussy and
asshole.
“Like my ass Mr. Eisenberg?”
Like he was going to say “no”? I wasn't expecting a response and I
didn't get one, at least not verbally. Instead, Mr. Eisenberg got on his
knees and with one hand stroking his dick, he quickly worked his way
between my legs until I felt his dick against my asshole. Well, sorry
but THAT was one fantasy he would just have to masturbate about later.
“In my pussy,” I simply said, not trying to break the mood by being too
harsh on him.
What is it with men and assholes anyway? Here I was with a dripping wet
pussy dying for him to fuck, and he wants to use my asshole instead?
Sheesh, what’s wrong with this picture?
He didn't argue and it wasn't long before he was back in me again. As
wet and freshly fucked as I was, my pussy must have been an easy target
for him this time! I didn't care at this point, not so long as he was
back in me as soon as possible. With his hands on my waist, he started
to pump me again, slapping his crotch into my butt as he pushed and
pulled me in sync with his thrusts. I loved this position as it seems
that it is the best for getting a dick as deep in me as possible and he
was definitely in me – no doubt about THAT.
My boobs felt like pendulums, swaying back and forth as he fucked me
faster and harder. I dropped to my elbows, elevating my ass even more to
make it easier for him to fuck me from behind, not to mention my arms
were getting tired. He HAD to be about to cum by now and I was right, he
was reaching the brink. The question now was, WHERE?
Nine times out of ten, the answer would have been simple. Given the
choice, I love a man to cum inside of my pussy. Besides the obvious
point that it simply FEELS good, in a case like Mr. Eisenberg, it also
signifies that final betrayal of his wedding vows, to not just FUCK me,
but to MATE me as well. Of course I had zero desire to get pregnant with
him, it was the symbolism that mattered more to me. In this particular
case, though, I was looking for something more dramatic, something more
for him to remember me by every time he saw me in the hall at school. I
wanted him to think about this moment every time he said hello to me in
school, every time his wife was next to him at a conference or other
school event. Every time he fucked his wife for the rest of his life I
wanted him to remember me.
From the speed and frantic way he was starting to fuck me, I knew he was
about to cum and I wanted to catch him before that happened so to his
surprise, I leaned forward and crawled away from him, leaving him
kneeling there with his pussy-juice covered dick glistening in the
sunlight. Before he could say anything though, I’d twisted around so I
was kneeling and facing him, then I took his swelling dick in my mouth
yet again and sucked him as well as I knew how with just one goal – to
drive him to an orgasm as quickly as possible.
Mr. Eisenberg had his hands on my head now, pushing and pulling me in and
out of his crotch as he thrust himself into my mouth in time with the
rocking I was doing on the bed. He was close... very close... VERY
close. I dropped him from my mouth and started stroking his dick with
both hands, twisting and turning them on his dick as I forced him into
that final point of no return. Like a cat eying a mouse, I watched the
tip of his dick without hardly blinking, not wanting to miss that first
spurt of cum when it erupted from him.
“Cum on my face... I want you to cover my face with cum Mr. Eisenberg,” I
said to him quickly, not wanting to be caught talking when he exploded.
“Oh yeah, you would like that, wouldn't you Kelly... you fucking slut...
little whore.:
Wow, I was a little surprised at his words as he had mostly been quiet
while we had fucked, generally just groaning and moaning as he fucked me.
I took his words as those of a man being driven by his lust, without any
rational thought or control over what he said so it didn’t bother me that
he called me a whore. In a way though, wasn't that exactly what I was
right now? Wasn't I getting “paid” with a new job for letting him
fucking me?
“Here it cums!” he announced as sure enough, I saw the first rope of
milky sperm emerge from his dick and strike me on the forehead. Usually
that first shot is the strongest and it wouldn't have totally surprised
me if it had gone over my head (and it wouldn't have been the first time
for me either). The second hit my on the tongue and I could immediately
taste the strong cum, even as third shot landed next to the second. The
rest was sort of everywhere – my cheeks, neck, boobs, and so forth.
Damn, he had a LOT of cum!
When his final load had been shot, I lifted my head and stuck out my
tongue so he could see his cum puddle there, as well as the mess I must
have had all over my face. At least it felt that way. He grinned at the
sight of his cum in my mouth and so I closed my mouth and made a dramatic
show of swallowing it, then opening my mouth again to show it was all
gone except for a slimy film on my tongue. It would take a good
toothbrush and some mouthwash to clear THAT off, not to mention the
aftertaste.
“Mmmmmmm, I bet your wife never swallowed your cum before, has she?” I
asked naughtily as I used his dick like a squeegee to wipe some of the
cum on my cheeks over to my mouth where I licked it off and swallowed it
as well.
“Oh god, I never thought I would ever see that,” he gasped, his eye wide
open as he stared at his cum all over me. “That was incredible Kelly...
fucking incredible.”
I quickly bounced off the bed and ran to the bathroom, returning with a
towel which I then used to wipe the cum off me as best as I could.
Fortunately, I didn't think he had gotten any in my hair which made it a
lot easier. THEN I would have HAD to take a shower. Although it could
be erotic sometimes to go out in public with cum on me, I didn't feel
today was quite the appropriate time or place.
“Soooooo, Mr. Eisenberg, do I get the job?” I asked as I rubbed some more
cum off my boobs I had missed the first time around.
God, that stuff is SUCH a pain to get off. And people wonder why I say I
prefer it in my pussy or mouth.
Mr. Eisenberg had laid back, flat on his back with his spent dick now
hanging limply to the side. Even as it got softer, it still looked
tempting and I probably wouldn’t have minded if he had wanted to for
seconds but it seemed he was satisfied with my “demonstration”. His eyes
were closed and for a moment I thought he had fallen asleep but the lids
cracked open and he smiled up at me as I sat back on my heels next to
him.
“Well, you definitely showed me you want the job,” he teased me. “Let me
think about it some more. It may require another ‘interview’ or even
more, you know how complicated these decisions can be.”
Bastard, how dare he even suggest such a thing. Suddenly any feelings
about wanting him to fuck me or to suck his dick disappeared, replaced by
the most intense anger and disgust. He laid his head back with his eyes
closed again, ignoring me. Well, we’d see about that! I grabbed my
dress, slipped it over my head and dropped it into place. Not only did
it come OFF easily, but it went ON just as easy. With no bra or panties,
that left just my heels which I slipped on and was ready to go in less
than thirty seconds.
Grabbing my purse, I walked to the side of the bed and reached out to
grab his dick firmly in my fist, squeezing it hard enough to make his
eyes pop open and look at me with surprise.
“What the...” he stammered but I didn’t let him finish.
“OK, now let’s get this straight, MR. Eisenberg,” I said sternly, without
even the slightest hint of tease or naughtiness, “You WILL give the board
your highest recommendation. I WILL be teaching this fall or you can say
goodbye to THIS!”
“Hey, you can’t make any demands, I know too much about you,” he
countered, suddenly all serious but looking a little dismayed as well.
“Oh give me a break... most people know I’m a slut, haven’t you asked
around? But what would your precious wife say if she found that YOU had
fucked me too? I bet the school board would love to hear all the juicy
details of the blowjob I just gave you, not to mention how much you
enjoyed fucking me afterwards.”
“You can’t prove anything,” he blustered.
“Do I NEED to?” I shot back, “I think I know enough ‘personal’ things
about you that I could convince enough people, especially your wife, that
I was telling the truth.”
He shut up then, mulling things over apparently. He wasn’t a stupid man.
The idiot had just reacted the way most men would given the opportunity.
Probably figured after talking to the old administrator that this was a
once-in-a- lifetime chance to fulfill some fantasy of his, never thinking
it through to what might happen afterwards. Idiot.
“Alright... you win, you get the job,” he said, looking somewhat
chagrined.
Then he brightened up saying, “But at least I made you fuck me to get
it.”
Yeah, as IF that was some sort of “win’ on his part. Other than the fact
I hated getting my first teaching position this way, actually I’d rather
enjoyed it. My anger began to dissipate as I noticed his cock was
starting to stir again. Hmm, maybe he wasn't going to take that long
recovering as I’d feared!
What the hell... why not? “In for a penny, in for a pound” an old
college professor of mine use to say. My dress dropped to the floor yet
again...
As I laid there sucking his dick again, feeling it slowly grow back to
its previous glory in my mouth, I couldn't help but smile at myself. So
what if I fucked my way into this job? Like, was it so bad that I had
the school administrator in my back pocket, so to speak? I remembered
from the last time I’d taught at the school how horny I would get
sometimes and all that I could do was disappear to the restroom in the
teacher’s lounge for a quick round of masturbation.
Hmmm, maybe I might have to have some special meetings each week with the
school administrator... some VERY special meetings...
Postlude
========
It’s only June as I write this and so school is still over a couple of
months away. After leaving Mr. Eisenberg I did a lot of thinking about
what I’d done and the possible ramifications. In the end, I believe I
did what I had to do and so I don't regret any of it. It’s a tough job
market out there and so what if I have to rely on more than just my
academic credentials to get what I want? My sexual skills are just as
much as part of me as my academic ones, so why try to separate them from
one another?
The bottom line is... I’m going to be a teacher again! Who cares HOW I
got the job, just that I got it – right?
THE END