Teachers Subterfuge Chapter 2
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Teacher's NightmareChapter 7 free porn video
All through my shower, I wondered what Jennifer and Heather had in mind. What more did they want from me? They made me use my mouth on them knowing I wasn't a lesbian. Heather fucked me with her dildo. Damn-it, wasn't that enough? Didn't they humiliate me enough? Why did they have to do more? And where were they taking me?
When I returned to my bedroom I immediately went for my robe. Jennifer told me not to put it on. So I sat on the side of my bed naked. I crossed my legs and hunched over, but neither girl objected to my modesty. They disappeared into the bathroom to shower. I listened to them with my face buried in my cupped hands and my head shaking in despair. I heard them giggling. At other times they were silent. I didn't want to know what they were doing to each other. I had never thought about it in the past, believing it was a lifestyle choice. Now it disgusted me.
My head slowly rose when they returned. Jennifer stared at me with her arms crossed over her flat chest while Heather rummaged through my closet. She'd select an item, hold it in front of her, shake her head, and drop it. Then she'd look for something else.
By the time she made her decision, a pile of my crumpled clothing lay at her feet, most of it having been stepped on. Heather walked up to me and threw the selected items in my face. I raised my arms as quickly as I could, but was too slow. It didn't hurt, but was humiliating. I gathered the clothing and placed it on my lap with my clasped hands resting on it. I waited.
"Get dressed," Jennifer said.
I looked at her, sighed, and pushed the clothing off my lap onto the bed. I stood and walked towards my dresser.
"I said get dressed!" Jennifer barked.
"I'm getting my underwear."
"You don't need no underwear."
Staring at her in disbelief, I said, "Please let me wear underwear."
That's what my life had become. I was begging a former student to be able to wear underwear. And she said no!
Turning back to my bed, I looked at the clothing Heather had chosen. I hadn't worn the skirt in years. I should have given it to charity a long time ago -- I had outgrown it. I picked up the black skirt and held it against my body. It was much too short. I realized that if I wasn't very careful, someone would see my panties. And then I remembered I wouldn't be wearing panties.
The light pink top was relatively new to my wardrobe, so I knew it would fit. But it was made to wear over a camisole. I had never dreamt of wearing it with nothing underneath.
I turned to my tormentors to plead for mercy, but when I saw their faces knew it would do no good. It would make it worse. They would enjoy my begging and humiliate me further. I put on the blouse and saw the shape of my breasts and dark nipples through the sheer material. Thank goodness it wasn't white. The skirt closed with only a minor tug. My waist size wasn't much larger than my high school days. I was proud of that, and maybe that's why I had kept the skirt. It was a happy reminder. But although my waist hadn't changed much, I had a growth spurt late in life. So now the skirt was just too damn short. Why didn't I throw it away! I chastised myself.
We took two cars. Jennifer drove the tan one and Heather mine, with me tugging on my short skirt in the passenger seat. Her giggling made it worse.
I looked around and saw that we were driving away from the university. I was at least thankful for that. Thoughts of Professor Rogers still haunted me. I didn't know how I was going to face him when I returned to teaching in the fall. I only prayed he didn't tell anyone else.
Heather's honking the horn brought me out of my thoughts and I turned towards her. She was waving at Jennifer who was driving in front of us. After motioning for Jennifer to pull over, the tan car guided to the curb. We stopped behind it. Jennifer opened her door and was halfway out when Heather stuck her head out the window and said, "I just want to put the top down." Jennifer smiled and got back into her car. I gasped. The tinted windows had provided some privacy.
My hands twitched as I watched Heather release the chrome clasps, and then my head tilted back as the top moved to the hum of the motor. Soon I was staring at the blue, cloudless sky. I felt as if I were sitting in a fishbowl. People don't walk the streets in the Phoenix metropolitan area as they do in New York City, but there were plenty of cars driving by. Soon we were one of them with Jennifer leading the way. I sunk low in my seat. It felt like everyone could see my breasts and how short my skirt was. I pressed my legs together so hard the bones in my knees hurt.
Stopped at a traffic light, my gurgling stomach reminded me I hadn't eaten lunch. I regretted it immediately when Heather turned to me with a contemplating look. I pressed my belly hoping it wouldn't make another sound, but it did. Heather said we'd stop at a fast food place. I told her not to bother, but she ignored me. A quick exchange of words between the girls leaning over the sides of the cars made the arrangements and soon we pulled into a McDonald's parking lot.
"Can't we use the drive-thru?" I asked.
"What's the fun in that," Heather said and laughed.
I hated her laugh; Jennifer's too. They were laughing at me. Why did I keep giving them something to laugh about? Why did I keep begging? They always said no and laughed. So why did I keep doing it? I think it was the helplessness, or maybe the hopelessness.
When I swung my legs out of the car I couldn't keep my skirt from riding up. I hurried to a standing position and quickly smoothed it down. Heather laughed.
"What's so funny?" Jennifer asked walking up to us.
"Our teacher is what's so funny. She's still trying to keep her modesty. What a sham. We know she's really a slut."
The words hurt more than a punch in the belly, but I held my tongue. Why give them more fuel to humiliate me. I followed them into McDonald's, grateful for the hour. It was between lunch and dinner so I hoped there wouldn't be many people inside.
As soon as I entered, I felt the chill from the air conditioner. I shivered and looked down. Sure enough, my nipples had reacted as well. Erect, pushing out against the sheer fabric, they were more noticeable. I hadn't realized I had stopped walking until one of the girls shoved me from behind. I stumbled forward, catching myself with my hands slamming into the counter.
The startled Mexican boy looked at me as if I was crazy, and then his eyes dropped to my chest. Jennifer and Heather flanked me. We stood like that for a moment and then Jennifer draped her arm over my shoulders, sliding her hand into my blouse. She cupped my breast. The boy's jaw dropped. He looked over his shoulder and then quickly back to the hand on my tit. I hung my head and wished for a gigantic meteor to crash into the McDonald's and end my life. I'd be free ... at peace, I thought.
"Tell the nice man what you want," Jennifer said and squeezed my tit.
I snapped out of my deep thoughts and, without looking up, said, "A Quarter Pounder, small fries, and Coke."
The boy composed himself and rang up the order.
"Pay the man," Jennifer said.
I gasped and turned to her. "I don't have my pocketbook."
"Then how are you going to pay for your food?"
"I can't. I'm not really hungry. Please, let's go." I was begging again.
"Nonsense. We stopped just so you could eat."
"Will you loan me the money?"
"I have a better idea." Jennifer leaned over the counter and said to the boy in a hushed voice, "Can she pay for it with a handjob?"
The boy's eyes were fixed on her fingers twirling my nipple. He looked up at her face and then mine, and then back to hers. "What did you say?" His Spanish accent was thick.
"I said, can she pay for her meal by giving you a handjob?" Jennifer held up her free hand, curled her fingers, and moved it up and down.
"Um, no, she, um, has to pay. We take credit cards."
"She doesn't have no credit card or no money with her. But she gotta eat. Hey, I got an idea. What if she eats your cum?" The boy looked up from my breast to her face. "That's right. What if she jerks you off on her hamburger and then eats it. Can she pay for the meal like that?"
He looked at my face and had to see my anguish. I met his eyes, mine pleading for him to say no. But he nodded yes.
"Oh, and it's a special order," Jennifer said and chuckled. "No cheese and no ketchup or pickles or onions. No need. You'll be supplying the special sauce." She laughed again.
I stood with my head down until the food was ready. The boy turned to another employee and said something in Spanish. Then he carried the tray around the counter. After a slight nudge from Jennifer, I followed him. My heart beat fast. It was hard to breathe. My legs felt like lead as I forced one foot in front of the other. I couldn't believe this was happening to me. We walked to the back of the restaurant where he entered the men's toilet. I stopped and Jennifer bumped into me. Then she held the door open with one hand and placed her other on my back. She pushed me inside. The two girls followed me in.
I hated using public restrooms. They always seemed dirty. But I had never been inside a men's room. It was dirty. The bottoms of my shoes stuck to the floor. What do guys do, pee on the floor?
All four of us stood silently for a few moments and then the boy handed Jennifer the tray. I watched Heather flip open the Styrofoam box and remove the top bun. When I looked back at the boy his hard cock was sticking out of his fly.
I wanted to get it over with before anyone else came into the men's room. Who knew what Jennifer and Heather would make me do to them? I wrapped my fingers around the cock and pumped it.
"What's your name?" Jennifer asked him.
"Manuel."
"How old are you, Manuel?"
"Seventeen."
"Are you gonna shoot a lot of cum?"
"Si."
"Are you almost ready?"
"Si. Soon." His hips were moving now.
Heather handed me the hamburger without the top of the bun and said, "If any gets on the floor you're going to lick it up."
I took the hamburger and said to the boy, "Please tell me when you're going to cum. Please let me know."
How much lower could I sink? I was jerking off a McDonald's employee in the men's room, begging him to tell me when he was going to climax so that I could capture it all on my hamburger -- the hamburger I was going to eat.
"Si, miss. Close. Tell you when."
My fist slid up and down his hard cock. I alternated watching his face and my hand. His eyes were closed and his hips moved urgently. "Don't forget to tell me," I pleaded, holding his cock tighter to maintain control.
"Now," he said with his eyes clamped shut. "Ahorita ... right now. Now! Now!"
I aimed his cock downward, placing the tip against the hamburger. He grabbed my shoulder. His fingers dug into my flesh. He was ready. I loosened my grip and let his cock slide through my fist as his hips moved faster. I made sure the tip was pointing at the hamburger. I didn't doubt Heather's threat and, as bad as what I was about to do, licking the sticky floor was unfathomable. He grunted. I tightened my grip. His cock throbbed in my fist. I concentrated intently on aiming his cock. I waited. And then white gooey semen blasted onto the hamburger, spreading out in a milky pool. I held his cock steady, and then a second glob came out, followed by several more. I moved my fist and squeezed his cock, milking the last of his sperm like a dairy farmer would a cow.
I stood there, in a McDonald's men's toilet, holding the 17-year-old Mexican employee's cock in one hand and a hamburger covered in his sperm in the other.
"Gracias. Thank you," he said when his eyes opened.
I placed the hamburger back into the Styrofoam box on the tray Jennifer was holding. Heather picked up a French fry and stuffed it into her mouth. Then she picked up another, dipping it into the creamy pool of semen atop the hamburger. I was surprised until she brought the French fry to my lips. I opened my mouth and she placed the sperm-covered French fry onto my tongue. The boy's eyes were huge as he watched me chew and swallow.
"Give the nice young man a thank-you kiss for all his help," Jennifer said.
I leaned forward, but the boy pulled his head back. After what I had put inside my mouth, I didn't blame him.
"Not on the lips, stupid," Jennifer said and giggled.
I was about to ask her what she meant when her hand pushed down on my shoulder. I didn't want to kneel on the sticky floor so I bent at the waist. I was still holding the cock so it was easy to bring it to my lips. I saw a dollop of semen at the tip and assumed that's what Jennifer had in mind. Pursing my lips around the tip of his cock, I sucked the last of the sperm out.
I hadn't expected Manuel to grab my head and thrust his hips forward. His cock entered my throat. I gagged. Reaching up, I tore his hands off my head and stood up, coughing and dry-heaving.
"Maybe some other time, Manuel," Jennifer said. "We don't have time for that now." She turned to me. "Time for you to eat your lunch. Let's go."
Heather placed the top of the bun onto the hamburger and tapped it. I saw sperm ooze out the sides. The three of us went back into the restaurant with Manuel trailing slightly behind. Jennifer led us to a high table with barstool-like chairs. She looked around and noticed a man sitting in a regular table across from it. She indicated the chair I was to sit on; the one across from the man.
I tried to keep my short skirt down while climbing onto the tall chair to no avail. Glancing at the man, I saw him holding his hamburger in both hands in front of his face with his elbows on the table. He intently peered over his burger, under my table. When I swung my leg over the chair, his eyes got real wide. I'm sure he saw my pussy.
I fidgeted on the chair with my legs pressed together, tugging on my skirt. Heather and Jennifer took the chairs on either side of me. And then Jennifer flipped the top of the Styrofoam box open.
I looked around as if everyone in the restaurant knew the hamburger was covered in semen. I spotted Manuel leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, staring at me. Glancing down, I saw the lump in his pants. When I looked up again, he smiled. My eyes darted away, landing on the man sitting across from me. He was now slouching down in his seat and his eyes were fixed on my legs. I pressed them together harder.
A noise caused me to look to my left. A woman entered the restaurant with a young girl in tow. She was around six years old, wearing tan shorts and a white tee-shirt with yellow and red flowers on it. She was whining and tried to break her mother's hold, but was dragged to the counter.
"Spread your legs for the man," Jennifer said.
I turned towards her and almost said, "Why?" but bit my tongue. She had given me the answer in my house -- "Because we can." I looked at the man. He hadn't moved. I sighed once and slowly parted my legs. The intensity of the man's stare increased and I saw Jennifer look at him. He slouched down more.
Jennifer bent over and glanced under the table. "Open them more. Give the guy a good show."
I looked around the restaurant. The little girl pulled on her mother's hand; the Mexican boy stared at me; the man looked between my legs; Jennifer and Heather watched my face. My heart beat fast. My palms were sweaty. I hated Jennifer and Heather. I hated my life. I hated being weak.
I opened my legs more, so much so that I felt the cool air on my pussy.
The man put his hamburger down and leaned forward, resting on a forearm. His stare was intense. His shoulder moved, and then I noticed his arm moving. At my higher viewpoint, I couldn't see under his table, but I was sure he was rubbing his cock.
"Now eat your hamburger," Jennifer said.
I lifted it out of the box. The top of the bun slid requiring two hands to hold it in place. Glancing at Manuel, I saw him staring at me, his eyes fixed on the hamburger in my hands. When I brought it closer to my mouth he pushed away from the wall and stood still. I opened my mouth, placed the end of the hamburger between my lips, and closed my mouth. My teeth cut through the bread and meat. I chewed, hoping the food and seasoning would overpower the semen. It didn't. I tasted Manuel's sperm. Like the man, he was now rubbing his cock through his pants.
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