My Teacher, she's a SYT

[JEMMA]

Chloe Cunt was in trouble again at school and this time it was serious. In frustration the petite school teacher had inexplicably lashed out at one of her third formers and now she stood before the headmaster like one of those misbehaving tykes. Mr Handsome looked exasperated. "If there's one thing you can't do these days Miss Cunt, it's striking the pupils," he sighed, as if she needed reminding.

Chloe stood shamefaced, her career in tatters, her life an abject mess. Mumbled apologies went unheeded. "Come closer, Miss Cunt."





Chloe shuffled forward. She stood face to face with Mr Handsome, even though he remained seated. A towering presence in the mould of a 1950's master, he was still able to recall fondly the days when corporal punishment was encouraged. Nowadays, however, there was no excuse. Chloe knew it too, her lapse unforgivable. "It's a shame for you're a good teacher, popular with the students and the teachers.

The words cut like a scalpel. "Is there anything I can do?" she pleaded.

She knew of course that the moment the snotty nosed brat she'd backhanded squealed to his parents she was finished, but she had to cling to something. "Is there anything YOU can do, Mr Handsome?" she appealed with doe eyes.



"Oh I think it's too late for that, don't you, Miss Cunt?"

Chloe's eyes filled with tears. "There must be something you can do to help me."

The wily old headmaster rubbed at his chin. "You want me to pull a few strings to get you off the hook, Miss Cunt?"



He seemed to be coming round to her way of thinking, assisted no doubt by Chloe's pretty persuasion. She had been able to twist men around her little finger from an early age. It was a blonde thing. Chloe nodded enthusiastically as he proceeded to lecture her on how he kept a tight ship at the school, how he couldn't tolerate teachers taking the law into their own hands...blah, blah, blah...

Chloe felt like she was drowning in a sea of words, not really hearing and only rousing when the tirade ended. "Sorry?" she queried, thinking she must have heard incorrectly.

"I said come and bend yourself over my knee, Miss Cunt."



Chloe's eyed bulged. He had said those words. It was unthinkable yet she found herself obeying. Mr Handsome's lap was firm, ably supporting her belly, her toes stretched for support on the wooden floor, palms flat the other side. She could feel the old man's eyes boring into her body, surveying each aesthetic curve. A tiny whimper slipped from her pursed lips as she waited in anticipation.

A huge hand took hold of her thigh, sliding the tiny skirt up over the peachiest butt imaginable. Chloe shivered all over, breath held tight. Sure thumbs hooked inside the waistbands of her panties, shifting them down to rest on the backs of her knees. As she awaited her fate, Chloe wondered how many other girls had been in this position before, back in the days when such things were allowable – or more recently perhaps. Maybe this was what the old pervert had wanted all along.

She gasped as the warm air of the study brushed over the moistness of her pussy. "You know what happens to naughty little girls," mused Mr Handsome.

Though it was a rhetorical question, Chloe felt compelled to answer. "Yes Sir, they get punished Sir."



She flinched as the headmaster's warm hands reached beneath to her flat stomach, elevating so that the sweet young arse plumped up. Chloe held her breath in growing anticipation, a tingle deep in her loins.

SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!

"Ow-eeeeeee," she cried, biting her bottom lip. "Ow, ow, ow."



She could picture the satisfaction on the old man's face. And feel it on hers too. For in spite of the numb discomfort in the rose-blushed cheeks, the overwhelming feeling was one of arousal. It was so intense her pussy had leaked a sticky deposit on the headmaster's grey slacks...

[xetoyota]

Wonderful story bro, pls share more!

[BK4ever]

thanks for this nice story, please continue sharing ts.

[JEMMA]

The pretty teacher cried out loud, jolting up in bed as the dream replayed in a mind that had become beset with kinky musings. Thighs rubbing together, her soaking wet pussy from the dream had found its way into reality, her bald lips soaked with cunt juice. "Oh my God," she whispered.



Allowing a brief moment to let her mind un-fog, she fought to disassociate dream from reality. For once, however, her dreams were less bizarre than reality, the events of the previous day reverberating in a troubled mind. Hard to believe, but this time yesterday her life had been following a normal, dare she admit boring, path. In 24 hours everything had been turned on its head by young blackmailer Kevin Mann.



Finally composing, she rose from the bed, immediately sensing a numb pain between her legs, courtesy of ex-boyfriend Jack's brutal assault. Tiptoeing to the bathroom she surveyed the smattering of small brown bruises that littered her inner thighs and hips. After a soothing shower, she heard the mobile phone bleep. The text message read simply: It's a hot day, dress appropriately, see you at school, K.

Riffling through the line of hanging garments Chloe searched for something suitable to please Kevin, her hand drawn magnetically to the skirt she'd last sported as a carefree teenager. Peach in colour, it was terrifyingly tiny and she shivered at the thought, wrestling with her better nature. A sheer cream blouse, almost see through, caught her attention and she wondered whether panties and bra were allowable. Locating a little frilly white set in the drawer, the teacher was prepared to face the consequences were she mistaken. Her highest heels, normally reserved for clubbing, completed the look, a look that screamed 'slut'.



The walk to school was an awkward one, not just the awkward clicky heels but on account of a belief that all eyes were on her. It ranged from the parents dropping off the really young ones at infant school, to the pubescent teens who harboured outrageous wank fantasies, to the older ones who issued lecherous grins and her fellow teachers who didn't know quite what to make of this bizarre transition from librarian to hooker.

One consolation was that her first two classes were with 11 and 12-year olds that still regarded her as an authority figure rather than a sex object. A few gave her odd looks but she could brush it off easily. Miraculously, lunchtime came around uneventfully though she did ensure to keep an eye open for Kevin Mann.

As it transpired, he'd been sitting an exam all morning, out of harm's way. Consequently her early optimism was misplaced as the headmaster summoned her to his study after lunch. What have I done now? She thought. Oh God, he wasn't going to pull her up on these clothes, was he? Chloe trudged along to the office with the previous night's dream playing heavily on her mind. Surely he wouldn't spank her, would he?

"Miss Cunt..." Mr Handsome intoned sternly and Chloe found herself almost in tears just at hearing her name. "Miss Cunt...I know you're fairly new at this school but you mustn't let the children take advantage of you."

Take advantage of her? What did he mean? She could feel her cheeks blush profusely and her underarms moisten with the sweat of fear. Oh gosh, he hadn't found about Kevin, had he? Within seconds Chloe's cheeks were radiating a deep beetroot hue.

"Your blouse, Miss Cunt."

Chloe's eyebrows elevated and her mouth formed a round tunnel. "My blouse, Sir?"

"The back of your blouse, Miss Cunt."

Twisting to try to see, Chloe's fingers groped at the buttons.

"Not here, Miss Cunt," he boomed, the words turning Chloe's cheeks even more bloodshot, if that were possible.



Excusing herself with a dainty curtsey, the pretty blonde trotted over to the staff toilet, heels click-clicking on the way. Ensuring she was alone, hastily the blouse was removed, her cute little breasts, held in place by what amounted to a band of lace around the centre, a couple of daringly cut half cups and two spaghetti straps, reflected back from the mirror.

Chloe's face clouded as the cause of the headmaster's irritation was revealed. Some little swine had inked a swastika on the back. She hadn't felt a thing and had no idea how long she'd been walking around like that on her back, the embarrassment prompting a flood of tears.

Before she'd really given the matter much thought the hot tap was steaming and the blouse was being doused, the fabric rubbed against itself vigorously as she strove to remove the offending mark. Regrettably the stain merely blotted and ran, ingrained in the thread. The best she could do was to make it look less like a swastika and more like a shapeless blob of diluted blue. Yet now, not only did she have a stained blouse but a soaking wet one. Suddenly the realisation dawned that the hand dryer was painfully slow and ineffective, little better than using one's own breath. As if to compound the situation, the bell droned to signal the start of lessons.



Miserably Chloe slipped back into the wet and diaphanous blouse that clung to her body like a second skin, revealing her bra and the cleft of her bosom quite clearly. She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. Looking left then right around the door, the corridor was thronging with pupils moving busily to lessons. She winced as the normally light blouse weighed heavily on her slender frame, the bra having absorbed the excess moisture and rubbing against her nipples, causing them to point accusingly. Memories of a drunken entry into a wet t-shirt contest in Ibiza as a teenager sprung to mind.

When eventually the corridor was adjudged to have thinned out sufficiently, Chloe made the daring exit. Immediately her breasts heaved, squelching together. She prayed that the walk from the toilet to the classroom would dry the blouse, yet the corridor was no heat trap, the opposite in fact. As a chill draft blew through, her nipples throbbed and expanded, threatening to erupt through the front. "Oh my God," she mouthed, fanning frantically with an open palm.



As the classroom door came into sight her stride slowed, not really wanting to arrive, yet already 5 minutes late. The hum of the fourth formers inside rose like an aeroplane's approach the nearer she crept. Stealing a huge lungful of breath, Chloe executed the entry. The class stopped chattering immediately, a rare first. All mouths were agape at their teacher's damp apparel and eye-popping boobs. "Is it raining outside, miss?" one impish boy chimed.

The entire class erupted in laughter and it was all Chloe could do to bring order. Appealing for silence as the wet blouse clasped at her boobs, she tried to wrest back control, but fighting a losing battle.

It was then, as if to save her further humiliation, that the door pushed open. All eyes turned right, bringing a semblance of relief to the red faced school teacher, no longer the focus of attention. It was a short lived relief, however, for in the doorway stood her prime nemesis Kevin Mann. He looked her up and down as if addressing a carcass before speaking: "Excuse me miss, the headmaster wants you in his office now, miss."

"Oooooooh," chorused the class.

Turning to the rabble and waving her hands agitatedly, Chloe warned: "One peep from this classroom while I'm gone and it's detention for the lot of you."

A hollow threat, even as she spoke, Chloe could feel her authority evaporating. Tottering off in the unaccustomed heels, she ducked beneath Kevin's arm, outstretched in a gentlemanly manner to hold the door open. He betrayed himself by giving her arse a good slap as she passed. "Fall in the pool, miss?"

Chloe glared. "I wouldn't mind betting you were behind this, Kevin Mann."

"Me, miss?" he replied with an outward look of innocence that belied the evil schemer within. "It seems to me, miss, that there's no one but your stupid self to blame."

Chloe held a tight lip until the corner was safely negotiated and they were out of earshot. She yearned for the blouse to dry off miraculously before the headmaster's office, but it was still sopping wet. The frustration coming to a head, she pulled up sharply. "Now look here, Kevin Mann..." she cried, prodding a finger in his face.



The sixth former brushed away the slender digit with utter disdain. At that moment it dawned on Chloe, why would the headmaster send a sixth former to collect her? But by then it was too late. The geeky sixth former jerked, forcing her inside the storeroom, slamming the door shut to swathe them in grey darkness.

"I've missed you, miss. Have you missed me?"

"Kevin, no," she pleaded as he strove to force his lips to hers.

"Don't fight me or you'll end up the loser," he threatened. "And when did I say you could stop calling me Sir?"

SLAP.



"Ow," she whimpered, more from surprise than pain, gingerly touching her cheek. "Sorry Sir. I won't do it again, Sir."

With that she let him have his kiss, cringing as the lizard like tongue darted against her lips. Consenting to open, she allowed it inside the warm welcoming mouth, startling as a hand rose to cup a breast. The blouse squelched and as Kevin's palm grazed across the outer edge of the nipple she moaned back into his mouth. Clamping his thumb and forefinger around the erect teat, Kevin rolled it back and forth. Chloe almost forgot her hatred for a moment, consumed by a weird lust. For a nerd, he seemed to know the right moves to push her buttons. But then he had been watching her long enough.

Chloe felt ready to submit her body to him, reaching to feel his cock through the denim.

Footsteps outside alerted the unholy alliance, the storeroom door suddenly pushed open to allow in a sheet of light. Quickly the pair secreted in the darkest corner, Chloe's back pressed tight to Kevin's chest, her soft arse to his crotch. She could feel the powerful erection digging in. Thankfully Kevin had one hand over his teacher's mouth, for her breathing alone would surely have given the game away. The other hand strayed dangerously close to her pussy, but no longer were Chloe's passions quite so keen, overtaken by fear.

In stepped the headmaster, three quarters of the storeroom lit by the artificial light of the corridor. The pair were concealed but only just. Blissfully unaware of their presence, Mr Handsome scanned the shelves as if looking for something in particular. Chloe grimaced as Kevin adjusted slightly, his hard cock prodding deeper into the crack of her bum.

Gratefully the headmaster found what he was looking for quickly, turning to exit. As the door closed and restored the semi-dark, Chloe pushed away both of Kevin's hands before exhaling loudly, a massive sigh of relief.

"Wasn't that exciting?" observed Kevin nonchalantly, but then he had nowhere near as much to lose.

Chloe shook her head silently, willing the ordeal to end. It was then that she heard a key turn outside and the storeroom door lock shut. "Oh my God!" she cried. "We're trapped."



"Mmm, alone with your favourite student and all the time in the world. Shame I've lost my enthusiasm."

Chloe wasn't tempted in the least to reach down to find out. "You may be finished for the day, Sir, but I've a group of fourth formers without a teacher. Do you really want me to get fired, Sir?"

She heard him rub his chin thoughtfully in the semi-dark.

"Please help me, Sir."

Kevin mulled things over for a minute. "Okay, this might help in the short term. Why don't you phone Mr Anal? I'm sure he'll cover the lesson for you until we can get out. Here, use my phone."

Jeff Anal was the games teacher, a thickset rugby enthusiast who'd made it patently clear he wanted Chloe. Though the feeling wasn't mutual, understandably she'd used the situation to her advantage, winning favours with her feminine wiles whilst keeping him at arm's length. Now she needed a massive favour. As the phone unfolded, it lit up the room like Christmas.

Chloe lapsed easily into her finest little-girl-lost voice. "Hello Jeff, it's Chloe...hi. My mum's been taken ill and I have to dash off. Please, please, please could you keep an eye on my fourth formers in room 8?"

Grudgingly the games teacher accepted, with the proviso that she owed him a big drink, after which Chloe sat down to ponder. They could be stuck here for hours. 5 minutes passed, then 5 more.

Suddenly Kevin sprang up, mounting a shelf and scrambling up. Above his head a feint dusty square of light hung in the air. Chloe heard the air vent being removed and saw a square passageway open. "No way, Sir...nooooooo way."

"You want to get out, don't you? Or do you want to get found in the storeroom with one of your pupils?"

He had a point. Dejectedly she stood.

Kevin helped her up, wasting no opportunity to paw at her bum as the agile school teacher squeezed into the recess. Chloe spluttered as a face full of dust blew up. Shimmying through on her belly, she prayed there were no rats. A short yet exhausting snake-like crawl, marvellously there was light at the end of the tunnel.

Looking through the slats into the corridor, the coast seemed clear. Lowering the vent she climbed out, quickly joined by Kevin who issued a sadistic smile. His dark clothes and jeans brushed down easily but Chloe's cream blouse and peach skirt were caked in muck. With her hands and cheeks charcoal black, she looked like a chimney sweep. "Oh dear miss, what a mess you seem to have made of yourself."



Chloe sprinted for the exit, unable to escape the school quickly enough, furtive glances around like a truant. At least off-site there was less chance of encountering those that knew her, though the strangers she passed on the jog home offered quizzical looks at the once respectable woman who now resembled a Victorian street urchin. To make matters worse, a huge shower of rain fell. Frankly though Chloe was past caring and it was with immense relief that the door finally closed and she was able to savour the sanctuary of the shower.

[FleshAlong]

Very good share TS, thanks!

[sponge05]

great to see your sharing TS, do continue updating this story.

[smoky7]

Very nice story, keep it coming

[rawboy83]

nice story, please share more updates ts.

[JEMMA]

Dear Bros....in this chapter, there may not be any explicit pictures available....just the story itself can leave exaggerate your most harden fantasies .... ....just enjoy..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At 4.30 Chloe received a text message: Hope your mum's ok, Jeff."

Guiltily she returned a text of thanks, met by the words: I'm just finishing up here, how about that drink? Meet me in the sports hall.

It seemed as much a command as a request, but how could she possibly refuse? In fact, right now she needed an ally more than anything else in the world.



Games master Jeff Anal herded the players inside the changing rooms with congratulatory words and pats on the shoulders for both teams. That away team was a big bunch of bastards for 18 and 19-year olds, he mused, after they'd trounced his boys. Heading to his office, he failed to notice that someone had broken in and used his mobile phone. Of course, Kevin Mann was careful to delete all trace of his actions, hovering out of sight and waiting for the fun to begin.

As Chloe Cunt arrived, the last of the rugby players was filtering inside to the changing rooms. Following on, she looked in the sports hall for Jeff. Strangely there was no sign. Wandering back out, she went to remove her mobile phone to text him when she barged into a hefty prop. She just about retained her balance, glaring back. "Excu-u-use me," she said a little sarcastically, waiting hands on hips for the apology.



The prop just gave a snort. "You should look where you're going, darling."

Darling? Chloe felt her blood boil. After all the indignity served up that day she wasn't going to be spoken to like that from some jumped-up teenager, how ever big he was. Crossing her arms, she fronted out the Goliath. "Well, are you going to say sorry or am I going to put you on detention, young man?"



The rugby player chuckled. Little did this bitch of a teacher know he was from the opposing school, or what he did to stuck-up butches like her. "I'll show you how sorry I am," he mouthed, thrusting forward to pin her up against the wall.

[JEMMA]

Chloe screamed a fearful sound before a huge hand covered her mouth. Gathering up the petite teacher in his powerful arms, the prop wrestled her into the away team's changing room where a mob of heavily built, mud splattered brutes of triple-X proportions glanced up in various states of undress. A collective grin ran around the sweat-ridden congregation. "Looks like the post-match entertainment has arrived," enthused a man mountain with a huge round shaved head, cauliflower ears and a flat nose, sporting the captain's armband.



Quick to take charge, a set of banana-sized fingers wrapped around Chloe's waist and she was pulled into the captain's lap. "Shush, now there's a good girl."

"I think she's one of the teachers at this piss-hole school," another giant with a crew cut observed.

Suddenly it dawned on the fearful blonde that these weren't her pupils, her jurisdiction useless. Nonetheless she still enjoyed a position of power – didn't she? "Yes I am a teacher," Chloe confirmed. "Lay another finger on me and you boys are in so much trouble."

"Wooooooo-hooooooo," rang out the sarcastic response.



"And how exactly does a female teacher go about explaining how she came to be naked in a male changing room?"

"Naked...I'm not..."



A rip and her blouse came away all too easily like crepe paper, its flimsiness no match for a pair of strong, rough hands, buttons flying around like shrapnel. Her bra presented a tougher proposition, its tiny clasp too fiddly for those thick sausage fingers. In frustration, the captain bit his way through the lace as another pair of brutes wrestled down her cords and thong. Tossed to the ground, the hapless teacher squirmed naked in a film of liquefied mud, surrounded by a wall of muscle and sinew. Like a pack of lions closing in on its prey they moved in, shorts loosened around their waists to reveal cocks of varying degrees of size and readiness.



The captain stepped closest, lifting Chloe's chin and pressing his stubby cock to her lips. "Who's in charge here?"

A token defiance, clenching tight, was resolved with a carefully aimed slap on the cheek. "WHO'S IN CHARGE?"



"You are," she whined, miserably opening to receive the insistent organ.

It failed to tickle her throat but boy did stretch her lips wide.

The 14 others looked on, clapping and chanting in unison, issuing the occasional slap to Chloe's bobbling bum as she sucked and licked and did all she could to make him cum as quick as possible. The captain groaned, telling her what a filthy little fucking cocksucker she was, taking a firm grip of her hair and starting to pound her face like it was a hot cunt.



Two other bulky forwards beside him, watching the scene unravel, were unable to contain their urges. Taking hold of their hard cocks, they wanked furiously. Chloe's eyes bulged like a goldfish. The outcome was a 3-way tidal wave of cum, pumped into the pretty school teacher's face. She swallowed all she could so as not to choke, the remainder sliding down her cheeks and chin. Little time to catch a breath, quickly the warm accommodating mouth was filled once more.



Chloe moaned onto the rampant cock as a hand lifted her underbelly, elevating her buttocks. She glanced back momentarily, witnessing the prop that had instigated everything ready to make the first venture inside that hot shaven cunt. Amid a triumphant exhalation, his cock tip entered the pink moist slit with purpose. Adjusting position, he thrust deep into the tormented teacher's pussy and banged her cervix. A dozen raking strokes threatened to pierce her womb before the prop came with a mighty roar, his spunk flooding her box.



Soon he was replaced, another series of frenzied thrusts and another load despatched deep into her belly. And then that one was replaced. None lasted any particular length of time, such was the joy conferred by banging that tight wet pussy, yet each came with a grunt of sheer joy. The motion from behind of one particularly large boy forced Chloe forward so hard that she almost swallowed the cock she was sucking. The result of the deepthroating was another explosion and a stream of cum sprayed straight into her throat. Thrashing around in the muddy puddle, truly she became the dirty slut.



One after another they took turns, using her body until she was too exhausted to remain upright. Flipping the delicious blonde onto her back, the last few took her missionary style. Dwarfing the petite blonde, just her raised knees were visible as buttocks bounced. Her head was angled to take more cock, though her mouth was numb. Not until every player had been satisfied both vaginally and orally did the assault relent. Warning off those that harboured lingering urges, the captain lifted Chloe in his strong arms, conveying her to the showers. The water felt good as it washed away the dirt and cum.



Two hours of relentless fucking and Chloe had still to cum. Gathering up a ball of lather, she coated the captain's cock with foam and begged him to shove it inside her. Ever willing to oblige, he lifted her to the shower wall, stretching her pussy with that short fat cock whilst sucking on her neck. Despite cumming twice, he was as hard as ever for the sexy blonde, buttocks pumping back and forth. The orgasm when finally it arrived was earth shattering, Chloe's whole body tingling.



Each of the team took a turn towelling her dry, apologies whispered if they'd been a little rough. Chloe thanked each with a soft kiss.

Glancing around, she searched for her discarded clothes. In the battle to remove them, every item had been torn to shreds. As the boys went on their way, all that remained was a forgotten rugby top. Chloe put it on tentatively, smelling the aroma of sweat and toil. Sucking in air and sore as hell, the bottom of the shirt barely reached mid thigh. However, she couldn't really walk home looking like this. It was then that Kevin Mann appeared with a sneer. "Nice show, slut."

Chloe's eyes slanted. "Were you watching that, Sir?"

"Yes."

"Then why didn't you help me like a good master?"

Kevin grinned at the irony: his puny body against 15 giants. "You looked like you were enjoying yourself too much."

Chloe said nothing.

"Come on you dirty whore, I'll give you a lift home."

Chloe's face brightened.

It clouded again when she saw Kevin's pushbike propped up outside. She tugged at the tail of the top and it stretched, but then it rode back up again, revealing a hint of shaven pussy. It was going to be a long ride home. Try as she might, flashing at passers-by was unavoidable, the day's humiliation complete. Kevin pulled up outside his house.



"Are you looking forward to the weekend, miss? I certainly am."

He winked and Chloe whimpered. It couldn't get any worse for her, could it?

[basfreak]

I like this story TS, shall wait here for more installments of it.

[JustANewbie]

Thanks so much for sharing this nice story, camping here for more updates.

[JEMMA]

Chloe Cunt awoke on Saturday morning, her head swirling and body aching. Had she really been fucked by an entire rugby team or was it just another one of her dreams? No, it had been real enough, validated by the feelings in her body. In comparison, the dreams had now become pale imitations of that couple of hours in the changing room.



Limping across the landing, the pretty school teacher ran a long hot bath, generously doused with bubble bath, stepping in tentatively and standing for a minute whilst growing accustomed to the heat. Sucking in the steamy air she eased down onto her backside, submerging in the bubbles that puffed up like a giant meringue. Head only above water, the undercurrent stroked at her battered pussy like hot fingers. Oh that felt so good.



Reaching down Chloe spread the soft lips wide, submitting to the water's urgings, groaning in a mix of pain and pleasure as its warmth entered her inner sanctum. Gathering up a ball of foam in her fingers and arching her back upwards, she brought instant relief, literally cleansing away the soreness inside. No permanent damage, it seemed, she teased the clit until it throbbed. At the same time, Chloe cupped each pert breast, wincing at the pain from the bite marks that had been inflicted by Jack two nights earlier and which remained as a reminder. After the events of the previous night, it seemed an eternity. Oh how she wanted Jack back and for her life to return to normal. Taking the plunge she submerged fully, the blonde mane straggling like jellyfish tentacles at the surface.



It was then that something happened that took her breath away – quite literally. The bathroom door barged open and in crashed a shadowy figure. Chloe's head re-emerged through the surface, face masked in terror and about to scream when a large hand stretched to cover her face and push it back down again before water. The resultant cry was muffled, a line of staccato bubbles pumping upward from her lips.



Chloe thrashed from side to side, trying to break free of the strong grip, the water crashing in waves around her. She watched through the glazed surface as her assailant's free hand reached down to find its way between her legs. Three thick fingers parted the labia, making a bee-line for her swollen clit. Straining to see, she made out the face of Charlie, her milkman. A chirpy type of chap given to flirting on the doorstep, he'd asked her out hundreds of times to no avail. All that pent-up lust had now manifest itself in this violent liaison. "You've had your chances, Chloe dear," he averred, the words wavy.



The milkman's fingers bent to rub her clit purposefully, sending more air bubbles to the surface like machine-gun fire. As the air drained from her lungs, the heady feeling was like nothing Chloe had ever experienced before. She came hard as the last helpless trail of air bubbles burst on the surface...

[JEMMA]

Chloe awoke from the dream with a fearsome jerk, alone in the bathroom. Suddenly the water felt cold around her body and she shivered markedly. Outside in the street, the milk float rattled a lonely furrow sending an even bigger shiver down her spine. An intense dream, the squirt from the resultant orgasm had left a cloudy seam of pussy juice in one of the clumps of foam. Rising quickly, the pretty blonde groped for the towel, its warmth and downy feel bringing welcome relief.

As she dried, a knock on the front door startled her. Easing aside the curtains to peek out, Chloe saw the milk float parked obliquely outside and heard Charlie the milkman whistling on the porch. Damn, it was Saturday and he'd come to collect. She swallowed hard, a frightening thought. The knock came louder, more insistent, and Chloe was forced to wrap the towel around to go to answer, peering around the edge of the door. Charlie's eyebrows elevated as he spotted the matted clump of wet hair and a glimpse of bare damp shoulder. He tried to catch a look around the door, giving Chloe a big early morning smile and causing her heart to race. "Keep the change," she stated, thrusting the note into his hand to curtail the embarrassment.

As she did so, the door opened a few more inches, just as the towel slipped ever so slightly, revealing the briefest hint of nipple. Charlie issued a salacious parting glance, his features etched indelibly on her brain. Closing the door, she leaned back upon it, breathing like an asthmatic. It was then that she realised she'd wet herself, a warm stream trickling seductively down her inner thigh. She jumped as the door rattled once more, face a picture of fear. Oh God, was Charlie coming back to finish the job like in the dream?



Composing herself, despite standing in a warm puddle of pee, Chloe opened the door a crack. It was not Charlie but Kevin's father Frank Mann that stood on the step. An overbearing older man, Chloe seemed to be surrounded by them.

Then a thought struck her hard like a head on smash, stealing her breath. Frank had seen the CCTV tape, hadn't he? Oh God, he must have done. Why else would he be at her front door? Was this nightmare ever going to cease? Chloe quaked inwardly, waiting for the accusation to fall. Shuffling uncomfortably, her pee-hole quivered once more and a warm gush tickled her pubes, running down her thighs.

"The wife and I are going away for the weekend," began Mr Mann. "Could you keep an eye on Kevin, make sure he doesn't throw any wild parties?"

Ironic words, Kevin was the least likely person capable of throwing a wild party. Chloe nodded her head vigorously, unable to shut the door quickly enough. Again she leaned back against the door, fighting to control the tears. Even at the weekend her ordeal remained. Stepping over the warm puddle, she eased off the towel, naked in the hallway. On hands and knees she mopped up her mess, feeling worthless.



A precious half an hour snuggled into the sofa was interrupted by the bleep of the mobile phone, sending her heart racing.


Kevin's message was simple: Next door, one hour......

[NastyThaiboy]

this is a nice story!             

setting up my tent here to wait for more.