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I want you to feel how dirty, how naughty, how messy all of this is. I want you to think about what I’m doing, what you’re making me do. And I want you to know that this is exactly the point’. I knew what I had to do”.“I love being told what to do” her friend interjected. “I know, it’s great to be forced to do things”, replied my wife. “So I did as I was told. I focused on his cock, and I surprised myself wanting it to flood my pussy. I know men like to cum a lot, but it’s never something I’ve paid attention to, let alone desire. But here I was, secretly wishing for a huge load for him to clean up. I reached and fondled his balls, and I mustered enough courage to actually try to talk dirty to him”“Isn’t it intimidating?” her friend said.“It’s terrifying! But I did it. I told him that those balls better be completely full. That my little pussy wanted to be completely filled. That I wanted to be a sloppy mess. And I asked him if he knew why I wanted that. He said he did. And I replied. She slowed her pace on my cock, released my cock from her mouth and groaned as she pushed herself back to meet the pressure of my thumb, slowly easing my thumb into her asshole between her swaying round cheeks. Sherrie looked deeply into my eyes with renewed lust, and said "Mmmm, you feel sooo good in my ass!" My fingers filled Sherries gushing pussy as she slowly rocked her ass over my thumb. Her eyes seemed to grow larger as she smiled widely and then eagerly dove back down to my lap and captured my twitching wet cock against her lips. Using only her lips, she pressed my cock up against my groin and stomach, then rapidly teased her lips and tongue back and forth along the base of my shaft, before settling onto my swollen balls. She began licking and sucking voraciously over my tightening sack and balls, I began to lose control, and as I strained my hips up with the first wave of my orgasm, Sherrie suddenly turned to look into my eyes, then wrapped her hands around my throbbing.
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At Lunch time I went up to his room, I walked in to an odd smell, it was somehow familiar, a chemical I had once smelt in the chemistry lab perhaps, Mr K didn’t seem to be in the room, “Sir?” I called, he walked out of the closet; every class room had a walk in closet which the teacher kept all their books in, though Mr K’s was always surprisingly empty, except for one cardboard box. The closet had a light switch which turned on a single florescent light bulb, which lit up the whole cupboard well. “Lee told me you wanted to see me”, Sir smiled, which he doesn’t often do, walking slowly forward, “Yes, I was taking a look at some of your coursework last night, it seems that some of it was copied from another student, your sister handed in a very similar piece of work a few years ago”, the sentence didn’t sink in, so many things we’re wrong, Mr K was a very particular man, everything was always just right, my coursework folder was already laid out on the desk, right next to where he was.

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