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Robin's cheeks went concave with the suction she applied to his tube of joy, and he hunched his hips up thrusting his length back into her mouth. Robin backed slightly away, forcing Bert's cock to withdraw against the intense vacuum in her mouth. As if some Pied Piper had begun playing on his organ pipe, the semen and sperm that had been banging away at Bert's restraints erupted with seething, demoniac fury. His come soared into the eagerly awaiting mouth of the woman crouched in front of him.

Robin swallowed the first spurt of come easily, the second almost drowned her it came so quickly after the first onslaught. The third and fourth filled her mouth and caused a trickle of the viscous white jism to run down her chin.

Bert's body was gripped in the velvet and iron of orgasm, and he wandered through the funland of his body's intense reactions for what seemed too short a time. He drifted back down from his sexual high to the reality of the room, the woman in front of him, his come whitely shining on her face.

Bert watched in fascination as Robin's tongue slithered out and expertly captured the runaway jism of his lust. The wet pink digit hooked around the gooey strand and herded it back into her mouth where she seemed to sample it like a wine connoisseur tasting a fine vintage wine. A contented smile was on her lips, her eyelids were half closed as she laid her down in Bert's lap.

The teenager gently stroked her hair, smoothing it where he had been lacing his fingers through the golden forest and disarraying the strands.

"Bert," Robin said, her voice low and husky, "I really shouldn't have done that. I don't want to make love to you on a regular basis and yet…" her voice choaked slightly.

"And yet I'm weak. My body overcomes me, and I can't control myself. I know you would rather be doing this with Carole than an old woman, but I just can't help myself."

Bert smiled a trifle. "You're not an old woman. You don't look it, and you certainly don't make love like it. I can't even say I'd be coming back here if it wasn't for you. Sure, I want Carole to go out with me, but is she half the expert at lovemaking that you are?"

Robin gave a tiny snort. "Hardly. I don't understand her. But that's not what I was intending to say to you, Bert."

She lifted her head and gazed into his chocolate eyes. "I really shouldn't lust after you, yet I do. I can't control myself. If you could, it would be best for both of us."

Bert's vision was firm and never wavered form those blue orbs pleading with him. "I'm learning to control myself." The answer he gave wasn't quite the exhortation Robin had just voiced. But she didn't seem to notice the double meaning.

Robin put her head back down into his lap, Bert's cock deflating under her cheek as his sexual need for this ravishingly beautiful woman rested – for the moment, he was content.

Chapter Four

The algebra class was a boring as usual. Bert didn't really enjoy math all that much, though he had to admit to a certain fascination in seeing the way numbers could be fit together, taken apart and reassembled to give answers to seemingly impossible problems.

His real enjoyment of the class came from the teacher. Miss Munoz was easily the most sexy teacher he had. She was only twenty-three or so, just out of college and still veneered with the enthusiasm for teaching.

Bert didn't care about the teaching part; math wasn't his bag. But, he was growing more and more aware of the turn his daydreaming took in class. He had started out the semester thinking of Miss Munoz – he didn't even know her first name – making overtures to him. Sexual overtures.

He had heard the grapevine rumors that Miss Munoz and the physics teacher had a thing going, but it was only a rumor. Bert couldn't see how that could possibly be true. Mr. Theodore was hardly a handsome man, and he was probably ten years older than Miss Munoz. Bert didn't know much about the physics teacher, but his friend, Chuck Farley did and he said that Theodore was a bit on the dense side.

Bert's daydreams metamorphosized into him seducing the algebra teacher. Why not? Hadn't he done just about everything now? Oral sex and anal sex and plain old wonderful fucking. He was getting to be a man about town and confident of himself for the very first time in his life. Let Crucher go after the teeny-boopers…he was a man and men go for women.

There was no denying that Miss Munoz was a woman. None at all. His lusting eyes studied her trim figure. She wasn't very tall, perhaps only five-three or five-four, but she packed one hell of a lot of sheer sexiness into that diminutive height. The youth did some quick calculations in the margin of his notebook – not on quadratic equations which were today's topic – but on estimates of Miss Munoz's figure. Perhaps 35-25-35. Bert solemnly nodded. Those looked like good figures to him.

One damn good figure, to be sure. He scribbled a bit more and came out with 89-56-89. Somehow, the metric equivalent in centimeters didn't seem to convey the proper respect for such a fine body. The numbers were too large, too gross for a fine-boned, perfectly formed woman.

Even though it wasn't all that hot in the classroom and school board members frowned on it, Miss Munoz's blouse was unbuttoned not the regulation top button, but the top three buttons were undone. The shadowed valley between her tawny fleshed breasts was daringly revealed – daringly for a teacher, at any rate.

The skirt she wore was tight and seemed to be sprayed onto her ass and upper legs. The bored math student became an avid one as Miss Munoz moved from behind her desk and began to pace back and forth in front of the class. Her thighs were flashing out from under her miniskirt and Bert was certain that her very appearance was another school board prohibition. Teachers were required to be staid, maidenly, even old maids with morals to match.

This fiery latin beauty could have easily played the seductress in any of a dozen spy movies the teenager had seen. A spy like Mata Hari, seducing men and getting state secrets from them using her body.

If Miss Munoz had tried that on him, Bert would have revealed anything she wanted to know!

But that was his old fantasy. Bert's new one had him boldly walking up to the sexy teacher and asking for some private tutoring, after school, at her house. Then, once there, the pretense of learning algebra could be discarded, and they could begin to learn all about each other's bodies. The symmetry of his teacher's body, the geometry of her curves, the trigonometry of her pubic triangle, the linear algebra of his straight prong thrusting into her wanton cunt, those were the kinds of maths he wanted to learn firsthand.

Bert shook his head to clear away his illusions when he heard his named called. Even her voice was low, husky, and incredibly sexy. But cold panic clutched at his heart. What had she asked him?

His attention riveted on her words instead of her body, he heard, "Bert pay attention! I asked you what the discriminant of the problem was."

Bert glanced a the board and the answer popped instantly into his mind.

"Its twice the quantity you have labelled A."

Twin black arches rose as Miss Munoz showed her surprise. "That's right. I'm sorry I thought you were goofing off, Bert. Now, Carl, what would the root of this equation be?"

Bert went back to his daydreaming. It had shocked him as much as Miss Munoz that he'd gotten the answer right. Maybe keeping his mind on sex sharpened his wits, improved his intellect. With a sudden resolve, he knew what he was going to do after class.

The rest of the period flowed by as sluggishly as molasses racing uphill on a winter day. The instant the bell rang signalling the end of class, the room evaculated with a speed that would have astonished most track coaches.

Bert lingered until one or two other students questioned Miss Munoz and then left to go to their next class. He stood, gathered his books and courage, and went up to his lovely algebra teacher. She tossed her coal black mane of hair back and stared at him with warm, appealing eyes.