Me: Top of the evening 2 ya Babe!
J. Doe: Good evening. I was just thinking of you.
Me: And what were u thinking?
J. Doe: Those lips, those legs, that ass!
Me: Don’t get me started, u know I’m always ready for action! In person, and on paper! :)
J. Doe: That’s just what I was hoping to hear. What do u have for me 2night?
Me: I have a ltl something for u. :) 2night I’m going to be a naughty, rebellious teenager named Alex
J. Doe: Alex? Why that name?
Me: Short for Alexis
J. Doe: Oh, I see.
Me: I was in my World Religion class having a heated debate about God, politics, and human behavior.
“If God really exists, then why the Holocaust? Slavery? 911? Genocide?... I know we can’t pray and think it’s like rubbing a magic lamp and all our troubles will be instantly solved, but come on—these were mass killings and torture to innocent people. If prayer isn’t going to prevent things like this from happening, then why pray?
“God works in mysterious ways,” my Christian, conservative classmate, Sarah, answered.
“Really? That’s your only rebuttal? That’s all you have to say about that Forest?”
“God doesn’t owe you any explanations, Alex!” her voice filled with rising agitation.
“You’re right, he doesn’t owe me one. But don’t expect me to quote tarnished King James scriptures and pray to a God that allows such awful things to happen to innocent people... and allows you to walk around wearing that sweater. You’re committing five fashion sins right now,” I joked and the class giggled at the obvious. Sarah’s face turned red and her eyes welled in embarrassment. “Go ahead and pray, Sarah. Maybe God will send a swarm of locusts to destroy me.”
“That’s enough Alex. I think you owe Sarah an apology,” my teacher, Mrs. West, mediated.
“What? If anything, her sweater owes all of us an apology. Okay, I’m sorry, Sarah,” I got up from my desk and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek—that made her even more uncomfortable. “And just to show u how sorry I am, I’m sending myself to ISS. I’ve had enough World Religion for one day. See you tomorrow, Mrs. West.”
“Enjoy detention, Alex,” Ms. West dismissed me going on with her lecture. I grabbed my backpack and walked down the empty hallways listening to the different lessons being taught. I reached the detention room and tapped on the door as I walked in.
“Guess I’m the only delinquent today, huh Mr. West?” I stated as I sat in the middle of the classroom facing Mr. West. “Does Mrs. West know you’re on detention duty today?”
“I don’t know, maybe.” he responded looking up from his book and peeking over his glasses. “Do you have any work to do?”
“I don’t know, maybe,” I mocked. He put his nose back into his book. Mr. West was a history teacher and basketball coach. If I had to make a comparison, I’d say he would put you in the mind of Will Smith-very cute. I fumbled through my bag and pulled out a notepad and a pencil to doodle with. I sat there, drawing quietly until my naughty cunt started to distract me. I tapped my pencil against my notepad and waited for Mr. West to look up at me. He must have been reading a best seller because he remained focused on his book. So I tapped harder. “Ah, there we go,” I thought to myself, after getting his attention. I was wearing a mini skirt and no panties; I did a slow Basic Instinct leg-cross. His eyes were glued to my freshly waxed, bald cunt. He nodded his head as if to say, “Don’t do that,” and quickly put his head back into his book. I knew he wouldn’t be able to focus after my display. I tossed my pencil a few feet from my desk. I waited to make sure Mr. West was watching before I went to fetch it. I slowly bent over, rubbing the back of my thigh and ass—my young, sweet pussy fully exposed. I retrieved my pencil, pulled the shades, and locked the classroom door. Mr. West had a nervous, frightened expression, but he didn’t do anything to stop me. I walked up to him, gripped the arms of his chair, and swung him towards me. I pulled the collar of my top, exposing my full, decadent breasts.
“Suck it, Mr. West,” pushing my nipple to his lips. He did exactly as I said, nothing more, nothing less. I watched from above as he twirled his tongue around my breast and gently milked it.
“Suck it harder!” I demanded, squeezing the back of his neck. “Yes, that’s it,” I patted his head in approval. A mound grew under his slacks.
“You like that Mr. West? You like the way my tits taste in your mouth?” He nodded yes, wildly sucking and licking my breasts. “Put your fingers inside me,” I directed his next move. He massaged my insides and my wetness saturated his palm. “Okay, I’m ready for you to fuck me Mr. West.” I leaned over his desk and arched my ass in the air. I heard him hustling to unfasten his belt and trousers. I finally heard him make some kind of noise—he groaned as he pushed himself inside of me. I rocked my ass rhythmically to meet Mr. West’s thick cock. “Fuck me harder Mr. West!” I kept my voice low so our sounds wouldn’t escape the room. The desk shook each time Mr. West drove himself into me, papers fell and pens dropped. We arrived at the sound of the bell. Mr. West’s cum splattered across my backside. I snatched a few Kleenexes, cleaned myself, and went to Pre-Calculus.
J. Doe: I think I’m ready to come home and bend you over my desk.
Me: Can’t wait! So that concludes my story-telling for the evening. Tell me about your day....