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Subject: {ASSM} Teacher Passes the Test Part Five: Kind Of Slutty For a Cheerleader... by Shakespeare_I._Aint
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Copyright (C) 1998, Shakespeare_I._Aint. ALL Rights Reserved
This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit, or on another website
without the written permission of the author. The author may be contacted by
writing mrdouble@mrdouble.com or mrdouble@ix.netcom.com.
Original posting date:
Thursday AM, December 10, 1998
A Resident Author story from MrDouble's archive,
Filename: teacher5.txt
http://www.mrdouble.com
Teacher Passes the Test,
Part 5 of 10,
Kind of Slutty for a Cheerleader
By Shakespeare_I._Aint
It was four days later, on a Tuesday, when my pent-up sexual energy spilled
over. I was sitting in my last class of the day, Calculus, when I knew I had
to have my Teacher again. It's hard to do calculus with a raging hard-on.
When the bell finally rang, I dumped my books into my locker and sought out my
teacher, Cynthia Van Horn in her Humanities class.
Cynthia had changed since I had done her last. She looked older now, more
mature. More like a twenty-nine year old schoolteacher and less like the
spoiled cunt I had rained semen onto in the backseat of her Ford Expedition.
She was more deferent to me; my opinions mattered; my essay questions perfect.
Amazing what a bit of the old ultra-violent can do.
I caught my teacher alone in her class. She froze when she saw me, like a deer
in the headlights.
"Mrs. Van Horn?"
"yes, Damien?", she whispered in fear.
"I was wondering if I could get some special tutoring this afternoon. Say, in
about twenty minutes in the upstairs Janitor's closet?"
"no..."
"yes," I whispered back.
"Damien, I've got cheerleading practice today. I don't have...I can't...not
here..."
"Practice starts in half an hour. I'll only need you for about five minutes,
if you're good. Anyway, now that you mention it, wear a cheerleader's outfit.
That might speed things up for me, if you know what I mean."
"Damien. Please. I'm begging you."
"Twenty minutes. Clock's running."
I left.
Twenty minutes later, I went upstairs to the second floor of the mostly empty
high school. When the coast was clear, I slipped into the Janitor's closet.
And found my pretty little schoolteacher already there. Already changed into
an old cheerleader's outfit; her own clothes neatly folded, for once, on a
shelf. Crying softly to herself. The Janitor's closet was a weakly-lit,
narrow, rectangular room with shelves of strong-smelling cleaning agents and
the equipment needed to keep the school looking presentable. Mops, and a low
white mop sink at the rear. A folding chair for the Janitor to sit in when he
was hiding here from the administration. And my silky, blonde, short-haired
teacher. Almost cringing away as I approached.
"Still spooked from last Friday?"
She nodded immediately.
"Don't worry about that. I was just punishing you for a transgression. It's
water under the bridge, okay?"
She nodded disbelievingly at me. Always best to go along with the insane.
"Anyway, that was punishment. This is instruction. We've got about ten
minutes, give or take, before the Janitor comes in here. Understand?"
Cynthia Van Horn's eyes widened in shock. She looked almost eager to get on
with this. So she could escape. I walked over to my backpack and removed a
nice flesh-colored buttplug. Not too big. Not too small. I walked to my
Cindy, who stood as far away from me as she could get.
"Sit down."
Cindy sat woodenly in the folding chair. She wore the ridiculous purple and
white heavy cloth cheerleading ensemble of the Clinton High School Harts. A
hart was or is apparently a large deer in England. Or was when Robin Hood was
around. Don't ask. My teacher's small body and large tits were accentuated
and hidden at the same time by that old uniform. Strange thing, cheerleader
uniforms. They're intentionally short, but at the same time, thick enough in
fabric that if you cut one into strips you could easily hang a large English
deer with one. Oddly revealing and yet bulky at the same time. And my teacher
filled it out perfectly; her large nippled breasts pushing at the thick fabric.
Mixed messages aside, my cock was throbbing in excitement. I handed her the
buttplug.
"In your mouth, then up your butt. It stays there through cheerleading
practice."
Cindy immediately took the plug and plunged it into her mouth, coating it
liberally with her saliva. In a big hurry to get me off before we were
discovered. She pulled the plug out of her mouth and spread her legs as she
sat on that folding chair. No panties. Shaved beaver. Dark pink vagina and
rosebud asshole. She wasted no time pushing the intruder into her rectum, not
even bothering to signal her discomfort with a moan. Her eyes did close with
the effort though. When it was firmly seated, she sat gingerly forward and
waited. Time for some shock therapy. I stood in front of her and stripped
naked, my cock jutting obscenely towards her face. She almost leaned forward
to engulf it, in such a hurry to leave was she. Terrified of being discovered
with a student. Even if she didn't have a choice.
"I don't want a blowjob, Mrs. Van Horn," I said quietly. "I want a handjob."
"Just a handjob?"
"Well... No. Actually there is more. But I'll get to that. Hold out your
hand."
My pretty little schoolteacher held out her small hand, and I squirted a
generous dollop of lubricant into her palm. Then with a smile and a flourish,
I made a nice pirouette, my ass in her face. I bent over and grabbed my
cheeks, spreading them, offering myself for her inspection.
"Toss my salad, Cindy."
"what?" she whispered, unbelievingly.
"Toss my salad. You know. Lick my asshole."
"oh no... i can't... oh no..."
"We've got about eight minutes left. Would you like to talk for awhile?"
"oh please... anything.... i'll blow you..."
"Time's a-wasting. And I've got something else for you when this is done. So
I wouldn't waste a whole lot of time on this one act if I were you."
I waited expectantly, my ass hanging in mid-air in front of my horrified
schoolteacher's gaze. I waited. And then I felt the warm satin wetness of her
tongue washing my anus. I leaned back slightly and her tongue entered me.
Heaven. I luxuriated in the feel of her tongue up my ass. Then it withdrew.
I heard my little schoolteacher gagging and sobbing quietly as she worked.
"Wash me."
Her unwilling tongue bathed my sensitive anus. I spread my legs for more
balance.
"Now put your hand through my legs and stroke my cock, Mrs. Van Horn. Hurry,
you've only got about six minutes."
Her hand reached through my legs. And she milked me as she laved my butthole.
And it was good. All too soon, I felt my semen well up and erupt onto her hand
and down to the floor. I gasped with the pure relief of four days of pent-up
seed. My asshole spasmed on her tongue. I stood frozen in place as my cock
shrank. Cindy's tongue left my backside and her hand dropped off my cock. I
wheeled around on her.
"That was great. I can't tell you how much I loved that. Anyway, one little
thing and then we're done."
I grabbed the underside of her chair and leaned her back against the low-slung
mop sink. The back of Cindy's neck rested on the front rim. Her eyes stared
at me in fear. I straddled her body, my cock dangling in front of her face. I
waited.
"I'd say we have about four minutes left, Cindy. Last Friday, I gave you a
beautiful facial. Today, I'll work on your hair. I think you need an
astringent to balance the P.H. level in your hair. You'll have a few minutes
left, hopefully, to towel or blow dry your hair. But don't wash your hair
until you get home, understand?"
I arranged my pretty little teacher's short blonde tresses over the sink and
did some multiplication tables in my head. Within a minute, the first drops of
my urine made a landing on her scalp. Having secured the beach head, the rest
of my medium yellow piss followed, showering her head and falling down toward
the drain. I jetted my liquid love onto my teacher's hair. She lay there and
took it; her eyes tightly closed as I bathed her in my affection. Her mouth
pursed closed tightly, breathing gagging, rasping, sobs through her nose. I
wetted her head thoroughly. She looked so beautiful. I held my final squirts.
The ones that clear the plumbing.
"Open."
Cindy obediently opened her mouth. I dropped my penis into her mouth and
squeezed my muscles, sending the clearing jets of urine into her mouth.
Cindy's response was immediate. She whirled from a sitting position under me,
damn near throwing me off her. The chair went skittering crazily off. My
little schoolteacher knelt in front of the mops sink and ejected my offering.
She spit my piss into the sink. Oh well. Can't say as I blamed her. I backed
off and dressed hurriedly. Cynthia Van Horn lay kneeling before the mop sink
crying and gagging softly.
"Two minutes."
She stood up shakily and dropped the cheerleader skirt to the floor. Pulling
the heavy top off, she quickly dressed in her school marm clothes. I tossed a
comb to her. She caught it and ran it through her hair, careful to run the
comb back through her hair to keep my fluids as far from her face as she could.
"I want to thank you for a lovely time, Cindy. Remember, you keep the piss
hair and the buttplug until you get home. God, I love you."
She nodded tiredly, brushing past me, blotting her hair with the cheerleader
outfit. She left. I followed at my leisure, knowing the Janitor wouldn't be
coming to this second floor closet. After all, I knew that he would stay
hidden in the first floor closet until everyone had left the school. He
couldn't stand to do his job with his betters watching him. And he had that
first floor closet set up like a small apartment. Probably why that one was
always locked and this one wasn't...
The End of Teacher Passes the Test, Part 5 of 10, Kind of Slutty for a
Cheerleader, by Shakespeare_I._Aint
In part six of Teacher Passes the Test, Spare the Rod and Spoil the Teacher,
our anti-hero puts his pretty little schoolteacher on the cross he made her
husband build.
======================================================================
Teacher Passes the Test Parts 1-10 by Shakespeare_I._Aint
Part One: It Was Worth Breaking In
Part Two: Mr. Teacher's Wild Ride
Part Three: Who Sleeps On The Wet Spot?
Part Four: Nothing Like a Facial to Tighten up those Pores
Part Five: Kind Of Slutty For a Cheerleader...
Part Six: Spare The Rod And Spoil the Teacher
Part Seven: What Have You Been Eating?
Part Eight: Now That's Entertainment!
Part Nine: Walk This Way
Part Ten: All Good Things Have To Come Up Your End
=====================================================================
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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