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Message-ID: <37594asstr$1028027404@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Rufus Thomas <cinque_manson@yahoo.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} Summer School Footslut Part 1 by Cinque Manson (Fm, femdom, feetsex)
Date: Tue, 30 Jul 2002 07:10:04 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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"Summer School Footslut"

By Cinque Manson



Part 1




The teacher sat at her desk watching the last class of
the day file into her classroom. The day had seemed
twice as long as normal, the first day of summer
school, and she couldn't wait for it to end. All the
children were seated and the bell rang. She commenced
the lesson on cell biology. After drawing a diagram on
the blackboard, she lectured on the component parts of
cells, occasionally asking questions of the gaggle of
thirteen and fourteen year old teenagers that sat
attentively in rows before her. She glanced at the
clock hanging above the door and said,
"Alright, for the remainder of class I want you to
read pages 258 through 280 in your textbook. Then
begin the quiz at the end of the chapter. All work not
finished by end of class you will do as your
homework."
The biology teacher leaned back against her desk,
armed folded across her ample breasts, and smiled as
twenty-four teens extricated long forgotten texts from
their backpacks in forlorn unison. Ellen Hornbeck
loved the power she wielded over these young people.
She looked out the window at the cherry trees in
blossom in the soft hazy sunlight of the late spring
day.
She was authoritative and powerful, nearly six feet
tall in her bare feet, six foot three in the high heel
sandals she wore that day. Her long thick raven hair
was pinned into a french twist atop her head. She had
learned, in her dozen years of teaching, that
conservative dress elicited the proper respect from
her adolescent charges. Once, early on, she had made
the mistake of wearing a short minidress to school on
a day that broke records for heat and humidity. None
of the boys in any of her classes paid the slightest
attention to her lecture, staring candidly at her full
figure and long bare legs. She noted nearly every one
of the boys sported bulges in their pants. Althought
she found this response flattering, and certainly
arousing, it played hell with class discipline, and
she made mental note to never repeat the display.
Miss Hornbeck took stock of herself. She admired her
starched white cotton blouse, with the ruffled front,
which covered her almost industrial style wire ribbed
bra. Not a hint of nipple peaked through the layers of
stiff fabric. Her full breasts, which swayed weightily
when unleashed, topped by oversized puffy wrinkled
brown nipples, were firmly contained in their armor.
Her navy blue skirt of thin wool stopped right below
her knees. Although she was still statuesquely
beautiful at thirty-five, her outfit projected power,
not sex. The only breaches in the armor of her
rectitude were her legs, which she had not encased
that morning with her customary pantyhose, because the
tan she'd achieved over the short vacation before the
beginning of summer session had turned her snow white
skin an even golden brown and she felt it a shame to
cover it with cheap nylon. Her long tanned legs
culminated in perfectly proportioned feet, which
stretched in a perfect arch in the sleek black high
heel sandals. She wiggled her toes, admiring the nails
painted a deep red that matched her lipstick. She
wiggled her toes, remembering her  vacation, and the
wonderful pedicure she'd gotten the last day of her
trip...
She went back to the same luxury hotel every year in
the spring. Often there was still a chill in the
eveining air back home in mid-June, so it was heaven
to spend two weeks on an isle in the Gulf of Mexico.
Especially since the hotel was so sensitive to the
needs of women like her, unmarried women of a certain
age and inclination. As she remembered the warmth of
her room, the lush terry robe around her relaxed and
pampered body, she conjured up a memory of the two
boys, not much older than her students, who sat on low
stools in front of her reclining chair and took her
feet on their laps and massaged them with special
unguents. 
They knew their business, Miguel and Rigo. They worked
in unison, running their small strong thumbs along her
arch. The lotion, laced with ground cayenne, caused
her feet to tingle and burn with delicious heat. The
boys, dressed only in tiny black speedo swimsuit,
splayed her toes and worked the goo between each one.
This was delicious! As they rolled and tugged her
elegant long toes she felt a sympathetic rolling in
the center of her sex. She leaned her head back,
closed her eyes and surrendered to the lovely erotic
feelings the Mexican teens were coaxing out of her
toes. Miguel and Rigo patiently worked her arches
again, with the knuckles of their smooth brown hands.
Ellen parted her legs slightly, just enough for the
boys to peer up beneath her short white robe and sneak
glimpses at her firm thighs. Miguel pointed at the
immodest display and smiled. Both boys were sporting
compact little boy hardons which stretched the fronts
of their speedos. They lifted the gringo lady's ankles
and moved them farther apart, ostensibly to be able to
better access the top of her feet, but also because it
allowed them to gaze at the thin sheer crotch of her
panties, which displayed an undeniable wet patch at
her cunt. Ellen opened her eyes to slits, to spy on
her servants. She knew she was luricating
uncontrollably, and she knew by the looks on Miguel
and Rigo's faces that they could see right through the
soaked material of her panties. Her full wet pussy
lips shined luminous and pink, flecked by her ebony
pubic hairs. She noticed their pricks pushing the
lycra of their tiny shorts. 
She bent her knees slightly, just enough to bring the
tips of the toes on each of her feet into contact with
the boys's dicks. She raised her legs so she could
lightly caress the rock hard boydicks with her lotion
covered toes. Miguel and Rigo held her ankles lightly,
their eyes on the obscene teacher's feet in their
laps. Ellen shamelessly pushed the balls of her feet
against their twin pillars, then down to their tight
balls. Moving as one, the boys tugged the waists of
their speedos and pulled them down, exposing their
erections, hooking the waistbands beneath the tight
hard spheres of their nutsacks. Ellen was dismayed
that at the little crests of black pubic hair crowing
their groins. She liked her boys smooth. She shook her
head, and lost herself once more in the delicious
sensations welling from their laps.
Ellen groaned deep in her throat as she caught their
cocks in the crotch between her big toes and the next
and began to jack them off. Few things satisfied the
beautiful brunette than a boy's manhood beneath her
feet, and this was doubly good. Their cocks were
relatively short and slender, but Ellen found their
smallness arousing against the length of her size
eleven feet. The boys worked in measured unity,
fucking their cocks between her toes as she kept their
testicles trapped beneath her heels. 
"Ayyyyyeeeee!" cried Rigo, baring his small white
teeth as the mature woman pressed his dick roughly
into his belly. Miguel simply smiled and humped lazily
between the gorgeous American woman's squishy toes. 
Ellen lay on the bed with her legs spread, the
dressing gown open revealing her soaked panties. Her
head was down and she watched the boys squirming under
the pressure of her tan slick feet on their throbbing
dicks. She loved the way the crowns of their brown
cocks bulged purple and fat when she pinched the flesh
of their cockshafts with her toenails. She increased
the tempo of her jerking, and watched the boys thrash
under her toes as if they were being electrocuted.
Their dicks were twitching, the blue veins bulging,
and she knew they wouldn't last much longer. 
"Ahhhhh, senora," Rigo called out, "Vengo ahorita!!!" 
"Go ahead, cum for me... Cum all over me..." She
purred.
Rigo tensed his whole body, and his hard little pecker
shot out a string of pearly dollops that landed on
Ellen's toes. Miguel watched gaped-mouth at his
partner, then let loose with gobs of his own jizz,
glazing the foot grasping his stiff little prick.
Ellen smeared the boyjuice on her soles all over the
still erect penises of her pedicure boys, laughing out
loud at as they gasped. 
The emperious gringa school teacher stretched her legs
and worked the kinks out of her thighs, and then
raised her slime covered feet level with Miguel and
Rigo's mouths.
"Clean me, por favor. Limpia..."
The boys, trained well by the hotel to please their
guests, began licking and slurping their cum from her
beautiful feet. This was it, the moment that always
sent a shock through Ellen's pussy, and she came and
came in undulating waves as the boys sucked and laved.
Eventually, when the boys had made sure every trace of
their ejaculations was gone from their mistress, and
they had stuffed their pricks back into their skimpy
swimsuits, they asked,
"Algunas mas? Do you wish anything else, Senora?"
Ellen lazily reached into the pocket of her terry robe
and took out a list of services provided by the
hotel's beauty spa room service. She turned the list
to the boys, not sure she could translate the text,
pointed at an item and said,
"I think I'd like that one, the "Bikini Trim"."
"As you wish, Senora."
Miguel stood and retired to the bathroom to gather the
things he'd need, and Rigo pushed his stool forward so
that he sat between Ellen's spread thighs. 
"Por favor", he said, gingerly taking the waistband of
her panties between his fingertips. 
Ellen raised slightly, and the Mexican boy slid her
panties down her legs. Miguel returned with a tray,
and sat down next to Rigo. He took a pair of small
scissors, leaned forward, and expertly trimmed at
Ellen's pubic thatch. Rigo collected the trimmings and
disposed of them discreetly in a small container on
the tray. Rigo knitted his brow in concentration. He
snipped and clipped, combing his fingers through her
pubes, occasionally rubbing her pussy lips, but
seemingly in innocence. At last, he seemed satisfied.
Miguel then took an old-fashioned shaving brush,
flecked with foam, and dabbed it on the older woman's
mons. He followed the application of the shaving
lotion by massaging it in tight circles into her short
clipped hair. Rigo put a hand on either of her thighs
and spread them, exposing her pussy and opening her
nether lips. Miguel applied the lather to the hairs
surrounding her cunt, and followed with his talented
fingers. Ellen moved with the teen's carresses, and
felt Rigo's hands following suit. Four little hands
manipulated her labia, fingers entered her wet and
waiting pussy, palms pushed and abraded her clit.
Ellen's hips began to rut against the hands, and she
felt a steady pressure against her pussy walls. Miguel
had four fingers halfway into her, as Rigo rubbed on
either side of her clit, which was incredibly engorged
and poked a half an inch beyond the folds of her pussy
lips, with both of his slippery lathered hands. 
The lithe cabana boys guided the high school teacher
through a series of building climaxes, at the same
time carefully razored her clean, so that at the end
she had cum half a dozen times and she was completely
shaven. They rose quietly, and left the room. She lay
back in her lounge chair, spent and completely
relaxed...
Mrs. Hornbeck leaned against the desk in her
classroom, her eyes closed. Sex had started her
reverie, and sex, in the end, brought her back to
reality. It made her rub her thighs together in an
attempt to quell her excitement, and she realized the
memory of her pedicure had made her panties moist. Her
mons felt irritated and raw where her pubic stubble
had begun to grow back. This wouldn't do at all. Ellen
opened her eyes. She scanned her students, all with
their heads down scribbling in their notebooks, paying
her no attention whatsoever. Good. Wait, all except
for one, Timothy Rowe, who was staring at her with
hooded glazed eyes. 

******************************************************************

Timmy finished the reading, skimmed the quiz and
sighed. This stuff was so boring. His mind wandered,
and he looked sleepily out of the second floor window
of the classroom at the wispy clouds lazily wafting
across the azure sky. He pulled a sharp #2 pencil from
his backback and began to doodle and sketch in his
binder, pushing his tousled blond hair back from his
face. Timmy was an accomplished artist, talented far
beyond his years. While the other boys struggled to
approximate stilted drawings of hot rods and movie
monsters, Timmy drew fluid lines that gave his work a
quirky life of its own. He loved to draw more than
anything. He looked surreptitiously at Mrs. Hornbeck,
standing at the head of the class with her arms
folded. He began to draw her, just a sketch with few
details. 
Not satisfied with his initial attempt, he turned to a
fresh page and decided to work on a detail. He looked
at his teacher's tanned legs, demurely covered to the
knee, and her trim ankles and feet. He began to move
his pencil over the paper. He outlined the curve of
her heel, the indents of below her ankles. He knit his
brow as he drew the complicated lines of the straps of
her shoes. As he shaded in the shadows and crooks, his
breath quickened.
Timmy often did "life studies" from pictures in the
magazines his father kept poorly hidden in a drawer in
the garage. As he faithfully rendered the centerfolds
from his father's Playboy's and Penthouse's he became
completely and fully engrossed, lost in the maddening
details of full tits and soft thighs, pouting butts
and the mystery of pussy. Timmy had never seen an
actual woman nude, and the pornographic photos of and
by themselves did not arouse him. It was only when he
drew the women in the magazines that his dick filled
with blood and uncoiled in his jeans. Drawing them
made them painfully real to him, as if his pencil were
a nerve-filled extension of himself stroking the full
bodies of the women he drew. Only when he'd finished a
picture to his satisfaction would he free his boyish
penis and jack off, teeth bared, and grace the drawing
with his sperm.
Timmy was getting the familiar feelings in his crotch
as he finished the detail of Mrs. Hornbeck's foot.
Although he was only of average size for his age, his
uncircumcised dick was nearly as big as it was going
to get, nearly seven inches long when hard, thick and
heavy. It was hard as he sat there admiring the pencil
drawing of his teacher's foot. His mind raced. He put
pencil to paper again, beginning a full figure sketch
of Mrs. Hornbeck in the same pose as his first. But
this time he drew her nude, filling in the details of
her full proud breasts and the imagined puff of pubic
hair from memories of magazine girls he especially
found hot and attractive. His cock lay like a length
of pipe down his leg, stretching the worn denim of his
favorite pair of blue jeans. He stole quick glances at
Mrs. Hornbeck, so that he could accurately capture the
features of her lovely face. He realized that the
thirty-five year old was extremely beautiful, and he
sighed deeply. 
His teacher had her limpid brown eyes closed, her
eyebrows raised slightly. Her mouth was open just
enough for her bright red lips to part, as she
breathed through them. Timmy's head was swimming, Mrs.
Hornbeck looked so sexy. He couldn't wait for the bell
so he could run home and annoint his obscene version
of his biology teacher with viscous drops of his
cum...
He was almost done. He had never felt so close to
cumming without touching himself, and hoped he could
calm down a bit so he could stand up. His dick
throbbed ominously. He stared on last time at his
teacher, to freeze her in his memory, and then she
appeared to wake up, take a quick look around the
class. Her eyes settled on him. And then dropped to
his binder. He clumsily tried to close it before she
could discern what he'd been up to, but as he
concentrated on hiding his art he heard the sharp
clip-clops of her heels on the classroom floor coming
right to him. Just then the bell rang.

***********************************************************************

"Class! Attention! Please finish the quizz tonight and
be prepared to hand them in tomorrow." 
Mrs. Hornbeck stood at Timmy's desk, her hand resting
on his closed binder as she addressed her students.
She announced,
"Alright, class dismissed!" 
The crowd of children, set free at last into the
spring afternoon, became a rowdy throng, jostling and
pushing desks out of the way on their way to the door.
Timmy tried discretely to pull his binder free, but
his biology teacher pushed hard on it and stared down
at him.
"You stay put. I'd like a word with you when the
others leave." 
Ellen needed to get to the bottom of this. She had
plainly seen the drawing of a nude woman in Timmy's
binder, and had decided on the spot she could not
brook this breakdown in discipline. She watched the
last straggling gawky adolescent leave her classroom,
walked briskly to the door and locked it. She returned
to Timmy's desk, picked up his binder and returned to
her spot in front of her desk. She lifted on her toes
and rested her bottom on her desk. She sat back,
crossed her legs, and opened her students notebook. It
opened as if by magic to the drawing he'd fabricated
in his mind of her unclothed. She gasped. This was far
worse than she thought. 
"What is the meaning of this?" She turned the spiral
notebook toward Timmy, who writhed in his seat.
"I... I... I'm sorry, Mrs. Hornbeck!" the boy
stuttered.
She flipped through the pages. She studied the detail
he'd done of her foot. A sudden evil idea jumped into
her consciousness. 
"You've a real talent, Timmy, this one is quite good."
"Thank you, Mrs. Hornbeck."
She began to slowly swing her leg back and forth,
secretly rubbing her thighs together, and watched with
satisfaction as her student's eyes followed her
movements. She caught the back strap of her high heel
sandal with the toe of her other shoe and pushed it
over her heel. The slight shoe dropped so it dangles
from her tan long toes. 
"I'm going to have to give you detention, Timmy.
Please stand up."
"You're not going to tell my parents, Mrs. Hornbeck.
Please..."
The boy stood up and slid out of his desk chair. Ellen
frowned when she noticed the outline of his mansize
cock on his boy thin thigh. Oh God, she thought, I
shouldn't be doing this. But she also knew she held
the power in this situation. Her student stood before
her, mortally afraid she was going to tell his
parents, shifting from foot to foot, his boner poking
down his leg completely beyond his control. The lusty
biology teacher looked to the small window in the door
to her class, and knew what she must do.
"No, Timmy, I won't tell anyone about this." She
pointed to the binder in her lap. "I'm actually a bit
flattered. Do you find me attractive?"
The change in direction of his teacher's conversation
confused the boy.
"Yes, ma'am."
"You seem to know a lot about female anatomy... This
sketch if very accurate in a general sense. But it's
not very accurate in the details."
"I... I... I like to do studies..." He looked in
agony. His hardon raged unabated.
"Would you like to draw me from life sometime, Timmy?"
"C... c... could I?"
"Perhaps. I'll have to think about it. First, there's
the matter of your punishment."
Timmy waited to hear what horrible repititious
assignment his teacher would hand down to him.
Instead, Ellen stood up and walked behind her desk and
stood next to her chair. She pointed down to her feet.

"Come here, young man, I want you to get in here."
Timmy limped clumsily over and followed her direction.
He bent down and crawled into the dark well between
the columns of drawers that held his teacher's desk. A
panel of plywood covered the front, and although it
was a large desk, he felt cramped in there. His
teacher leaned over and nodded. 
"Can you lay down in there?'
He could, on his side, bent in an "S" shape with his
knees bent back and his shoulders hunched forward.
Mrs. Hornbeck sat in her rolling chair and scooted
into her desk. She said,
"I'm going to grade papers for a while, Timmy. As I do
that I want you to massage my poor tired feet, since
they seem to fascinate you so much."
There seemed no space at all under the desk when Mrs.
Hornbeck's legs filled what little void there'd been
after Timmy had climbed in. Her right leg straightened
and she rested the heel of her sandal on his hip,
while the sole of her left shoe pressed his cheek.
This was the shoe she'd loosened a moment before, and
she caught the heel on his ear, dropping her shoe
behind his head. Her pink sole came to rest on the
teenage boy's face. It had been a long day, and her
foot was very fragrant. 
Ellen took quick stock. If someone looked in on her
from the hallway they would see her at her desk,
grading papers with a red pencil. She smiled, and
ground her sole on Timmy's nose. She spread her legs,
getting more comfortable.
Beneath the desk, in the close cubicle, Timmy wondered
how he was supposed to massage his teacher's feet when
one of his hands was caught beneath him and the other
was essentially useless, bent at an uncomfortable
angle behind his head.
"What do you want me to do, Mrs. Hornbeck?"
Ellen drifted her foot up and down her student's face.
Timmy's breath caught as he sniffed her smell. God, it
was kind of stinky, but it was somehow sexy. He found
it intoxicating, and inhaled her deeply. 
"Massage my foot. I'm very tired today, I've been
standing up all day, while beastly little boys like
you fantasize about my body." Ellen spread her toes
and ground them into the thirteen year old's fresh
smooth features. She traced his forehead, his nose,
and then drew her big toe over his pliant lips. She
felt the tip of his tongue shyly exploring from the
tight crack of his lips, and said,
"That's right, Timmy, lick my poor tired feet. You've
been a naughty, smutty little pig, and you deserve to
have my smelly old foot in your face."
She pushed her toe firmly into the boy's mouth.
Timmy's eyes bugged out. He felt ashamed, and strange,
but also curiously resolved. He'd been bad, he'd done
something shameful, and this seemed fitting
punishment. His teacher's toe filled his mouth, and he
began to suck on it. He rested his front teeth her
hard toe nail, and swirled his tongue around it. She
jerked slightly, and he pulled back, letting her foot
drop to the floor in front of his head.
"Am I doing alright, Mrs. Hornbeck?" 
Ellen replaced her foot on his face, roughly jammed
her big toe back in his mouth and said,
"Don't you stop until I tell you. From now on you're
my little homeroom foot slut, you understand?"
Timmy hummed,"Mmmhmmm", in assent. He sighed deeply
and bobbed his head up and down on his teacher's toe. 
Despite her stern tone, she was delighted. Timmy was a
natural foot slave. He suctioned and licked her toe,
obviously excited. She noted the slight tremors in his
body traveling up the foot resting on his hip. She
reached down beneath the desk and pulled her skirt up
a couple of inches, allowing her legs more freedom to
move about. 
Timmy had been ministering to Mrs. Hornbeck with his
eyes closed, but he opened them now and his hungry
eyes traveled up her long legs to her firm thighs. She
shifted and he could see what seemed to be miles of
tanned flesh, all the way up into the shadows of her
crotch. He allowed her big toe to slip from his mouth,
and sticking his tongue out of his wide open mouth he
began to slobber and lick between her toes. She
splayed her foot, and smeared the saliva he left back
on his adoring face. He moved his head about, tracing
the faint lines on Mrs. Hornbeck's soles in adoration.

Ellen dug in the heel of the shoe that used the boy's
hip as a footstool until the sandal slipped off. She
rubbed her sweaty sole on her student's levis, and
dropped it down until the length of it pressed on the
banana shaped bulge of his cock. Timmy gasped. She
pushed and relaxed, pushed and relaxed, and thrilled
at the size of the boy's dick. It was so thick, like a
man's. She wanted to see it, to feel it uncovered by
layers of denim. She said, in a falsely casual tone,
"Undo your jeans, Timmy. I want to rub my smelly old
foot on your penis..."
Timmy fidgeted and squirmed, clumsily unbuttoning his
jeans. His teacher kept him busy with the foot she
continued to push it into his face, while her other
trapped his dick. He finally got his pants over his
ass and pushed them to his bent knees. It was as far
as they would go as long as he was stuck under her
desk.
Ellen luxuriated in the silky hardness of the boy'
naked cock under her feet. She was lubricating freely
into her panties, and she knew her cunt lips were fat
and loose beneath the cotton crotch panel. She pushed
Timmy's dick against his thigh, bending it away from
his body although she could feet the tension trying to
bring it to its more natural position pointing up
toward his belly. She stared at the sketch of her
naked. She said,
"You know, Timmy, this picture you drew of me is not
anatomically correct. Let me show you..."
She tucked her feet together, reached beneath her
skirt, and quickly plucked her panties off, letting
the fall behind the crouching student. She spread her
legs, drawing her chair in so her stomach pressed into
the front of the desk, and pulled her skirt up her
thighs.
"Can you see, Timmy? I don't have an ugly patch of
hair on my pussy like you've given me. I'm sleek and
smooth... Can you see?"
Timmy could see. In the tangle of his body and his
teacher's legs his head was only inches from her sex.
It was like a huge pink peach, shining white beyond
that tan line that cut her waist. Mrs. Hornbeck spread
her thighs wantonly, and the cleft of her peach opened
to Timmy, her fat pussy lips glistening wet and
abalone pink. His nostrils filled with her perfume,
musk and the hint of lemon. At the top of the folds of
her cunt a bulb stood out, and Tommy was amazed how
much it reminded him of a little dick. He looked up to
see Mrs. Hornbeck gazing down at him, a smile on her
ruby red lips.
"See, Timmy? Much different than the brutish bush you
gave me." 
She rolled her chair so her pussy was suddenly pushed
into the boy's beardless face. His surprise gave way
to curiosity and lust, and he kissed her sex. 
"That's right, boy, kiss me. Use your tongue... Ahhhh,
yesssss. That bit at the top is my clit, suck it like
you did my big toe, you little footslut..."
Timmy's ears burned. His heart raced and his mouth
became dry, but not for long. When he pressed his open
mouth on Mrs. Hornbeck's gaping cunt she filled his
dry gullet with a steady ooze of pussy nectar. He
swallowed and licked. Timmy shook his head back and
forth, amazed as his teacher's sex opened up for me.
His whole face became slick and wet from her hole.
Using his lustfilled imagination he pretended his
tongue was his cock, and drove it as far as he could
up the velvety flesh ribbed tunnel of her pussy. She
moaned, and caught his hair with a hand, cruelly
pulling him into her.
"You do that nice, boy. Teacher's going to cum all
over your face... Ahhh... Unhhhh..."
Suddenly Ellen's thighs clenched around Timmy's head,
and he felt as if he'd been caught in a vice. Then her
pussy unleashed a torrent of sex ichor into his
waiting mouth. Then Mrs. Hornbeck 
pushed her student away from her, back into the cubby
hole beneath her desk. She gasped, breathing through
her mouth, and brought her feet together in Timmy's
lap
She caught his dick between the soles of her perfect
feet. She commenced a steady persistent rhythm, and
was delighted when his hips bucked in concert with her
efforts.
"I want you to cum now, Timmy, cum all over teacher's
feet..."
"Yes, yes, yes..."
Timmy was out of his mind. The sensation of Mrs.
Hornbeck's soft soles rubbing and tormenting his dick
was better than any handjob he'd ever given himself.
He'd never felt so hard, so horny. His nasty teacher
had let him taste her pussy, had smashed his face into
it, and now she was fucking him with her perfect feet.
He was in heaven. His eyes rolled into his lolling
head and he pumped against her with complete abandon. 
Ellen had pushed back a bit from the desk, she had to
watch. Her golden brown arches dwarfed the boy's cock,
big as it was, and she jacked him from its hairless
base to the bulging crown, which shined hard and
purple like a plum. She dropped one foot to the floor
beneath his balls, pressing him into his belly with
the other. She mercilessly rubbed the shaft of his
dick beneath the head while running the tops of the
toes of her other feet roughly into his nutsack. She
sought the sensitive spot right behind his balls,
massaging his prostrate. The teacher stretched until
she felt her toe against his puckered asshole, and she
pushed against it until she felt it yield under her
pressure. She jammed her toe in Timmy's tight rectum,
and felt it gather and pulse around her. 
"I... I... I...." He never finished the sentence. His
boydick stiffened and shot a string of white cum
straight into the air, and Ellen jacked him between
her toes, coaxing five more spurts out of him as he
shuddered under her. She continued to rub him, even
though she knew this was torment for him in his
oversensitive post orgasmic state. He began to soften,
and he would have pulled away but the alcove that was
his prison gave him no route to escape. 
Ellen turned the ankle of the foot that brought the
boy off this way and that, admiring the thick coat of
spunk he put there. His cum began to ooze and slide
off the outside of her sole, but she quickly caught it
with her other foot,and rubbed the boyjuice into the
skin of her soles. Timmy just stared at this display,
his dick half hard and jerking. 
"Now, Timmy, I want you to clean my feet with your
mouth. Do you understand?"
He did, and the instruction left him queasy. Eating
his own spunk, this was too nasty. But he gulped, and
she brought her feet up to his mouth together, toes
pointed. I big drip of his sperm began to form at the
end of her toes, and Ellen gasped when she saw Timmy
dip his head so he could catch it with the tip of his
extended tongue. 
The salacious teacher let him clean her for ten
minutes, then had him hand her her panties. Yes, he
was a natural little foot slut. As he straightened
himself out, and crawled out from under her desk,
Ellen Hornbeck's inventive filthy mind had shifted
into overdrive with plots and schemes for Timmy's
future use and employment. She handed him his binder,
excused him, unlocking the door to let him slink out,
and then sat down at her desk and ruminated on the
afternoon's events with her hand buried in her pussy.

End of Part 1

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