"Ohhhhh fuck! Ohhhhh fuck, I'm coming!" Janet squirmed and twisted under Cammy's body. Her big tits bobbed and Cammy felt her blood-swollen nipples pressing against her own hard little nubs. The leather straps dug deeper into her ass-cheeks as she fucked Janet's pussy.
"Yeah, that's it!" Janet cried, making the mattress thump with her frantic movements.
Cammy was coming too. The quivering waves, shivering sensations, around her cunt had grown so powerful that she couldn't stop squirming. Her clit was being rubbed and mashed by the end of the dildo, and when she shoved it into Janet's pussy one last time, they cried out together and kissed. The bed rocked with their pumping, rubbing movements. Cammy felt Janet's heart pounding, felt he cunt sucking at the dildo. The exquisite tremors of coming continued to pulse through Camilla's body as she tightened the muscles of her ass and rubbed her small, hard tits against her best friend's big tits.
"That was far out!" Cammy said when she'd gotten her breath.
"Maybe I should put that cock on and do it to you."
"No, I don't think so. I feel strange enough already."
Janet pushed herself up on an elbow. "And you've got the real thing, right? You don't need a rubber cock to get a thrill."
"That's one way of looking at it."
"Don't blame you. I wish I could have some of the real stuff. It's been a longtime since a guy has given me a ride."
Cammy swung her legs off the bed and began to unfasten the straps of the dildo. "You'd better make sure your folks don't find this. They'd never believe it belongs to your aunt."
"I know. And they wouldn't want to believe what I've been doing with it!"
When they'd dressed, Janet came downstairs with Cammy and slipped an arm around her waist at the front door.
"Thanks for helping me out. I was in bad shape."
"I suppose we've committed some awful sin," Cammy replied, "but I don't feel so bad about it."
"Neither do I."
"You know something's been bothering me."
"About what we did?"
"No. It's something about that guy I told you about."
"You didn't tell me much. Except that he has a big prick."
"His name is Blake." Cammy gave Janet a warning look. "Promise you won't breathe a word of this."
"Okay, so what bothers you about Blake?"
"He doesn't really talk like a teacher. He seemed to know his math and all, but there was something funny about him. He just didn't fit what I expected a bookish math teacher to be like."
Janet laughed. "Who cares. He knows how to put it in and pull it out, doesn't he?"
Cammy let her eyes go dreamy. "Does he ever."
"Then don't worry about his credentials."
"Maybe you're right." But Cammy was still bothered.
By the time Friday afternoon rolled around, Cammy was feeling a slew of contradicting emotions. She knew that her math teacher would be waiting for her at his apartment and she wasn't afraid of seeing him, but she was beginning to wonder about her own motives. Was she a curious adolescent, or a nymphomaniac? Maybe she was both. During classes that day she found herself daydreaming about Blake's big cock, and when Ralph had waved at her in the hall, she'd lured him into the library where she found a quiet spot in the stacks. Then she'd let him rub against her and kiss her until his jeans were so tight he could hardly walk.
During math class, Mr. Anderson had tried hard to act as if nothing out of the ordinary was on his mind, but she caught him looking at her at least three times. They weren't the sort of looks a teacher was supposed to be giving one of his students.
Now she was on her way down the street where Mr. Anderson's apartment was. Her heart pounded and her palms were wet. She wondered if he'd be able to smell her when she got there. She knew her panties were damp and her cunt-lips swollen. Why couldn't she think of anything but sex? Despite her condition she wasn't even sure she was going to let Mr. Anderson touch her. After fucking Blake, her teacher was no longer that exciting.
"Ah, Camilla!" Mr. Anderson said, opening the door. He acted surprised, as if he'd forgotten their appointment. It didn't fool Cammy. She came into the apartment, dropped her books on the dining room table, and looked around.
"You don't have anything to drink, do you?"
"Some water or juice perhaps?"
"I'd rather have beer." She couldn't believe she'd said it, but Mr. Anderson didn't come unglued like she'd thought.
"I'm not sure I approve of students drinking. Especially not while they are at my apartment getting help with lessons."
"If it bugs you, that's okay. I'll have water."
"But maybe I could find a beer. Maybe I'll even have one with you." Mr. Anderson laughed as he went to rummage in the refrigerator. Cammy skinned off her sweater and tossed it on the sofa. Then she kicked off her shoes and spread her bare toes deep in the carpet. Mr. Anderson watched her from the kitchen. When he came over with her beer, she thought his hand was shaking.
"Since we're going to be working together, Camilla, why don't you forget all that Mr. Anderson stuff and just call me Bob."
"Okay." Cammy took a big slug of beer. "You know you could have gotten into a lot of trouble for doing what you did to me that day after class."
"Yes, I know. You've been kind not to mention it to anyone."
"Most people would tell me I'm crazy to come here to your apartment alone."
Bob Anderson took a long pull on his beer. "I hope you don't feel threatened. I only want what's good for you, Camilla."
Cammy looked down at the lump in his pants. "That's what you want to give me, isn't, it? Wouldn't you like to pull off my skirt and top and then jerk down my panties and run your hands over my body?"
She drank some more and looked up to see Bob's reaction.
"Normally I'd like to slap the face of anyone who spoke to me like that."
"But you don't want to slap mine?" Cammy turned and pushed herself against him. Her small tits pressed into his chest and her upturned mouth was soft, lips slightly parted. Bob Anderson swallowed hard…
"You'd like to do something else to me, wouldn't you?"
"I… I think I need something to go with this beer." Mr. Anderson turned to a small cabinet and jerked it open. With trembling fingers he poured four fingers of scotch into a glass and tossed it off neat. Camilla undid the first two buttons of her blouse and came to stand beside him. As he chased the scotch with a drink of beer, Bob Anderson peered down at her exposed tits.
"I haven't been able to get you off my mind," he said, the words coming fast and hard. "I dream about you. When I manage to sleep at all. I think of your hands and the smell of your cunt."
Cammy hadn't expected anything like this. At first she thought Mr. Anderson might be making fun of her, but the look in his eyes was crazy. He reached a hand out and gently took her long, blonde braid in his fingers.
"Mr. Anderson… I mean, Bob. Bob, I'm here because my math grades aren't good as good as my parents would like. If I don't make good math grades, I won't get into Yale. I don't know what you have in mind, but if I don't start bringing my grades up…"
"Forget about your damned grades." Bob Anderson waved a hand. "You'll have straight A's from now on. If you'll only… only…"
"If I'll only what?"
Bob buried his face in her hair. "Cammy, I've got to fuck you. I can't live without fucking you."
Cammy twisted out of his embrace and walked to the window. Bob's place was three stories up and the view across a nearby park was pretty. She could feel his eyes on her.
"I could get in a lot of trouble," she said, taking another mouthful of beer. She couldn't let him know how nervous she was.
"I know that. We both could get in trouble. But if you'll…"
"If there was some way you could show me you really cared for me. Then I'd know you wouldn't hurt me. I'd feel safer." She turned and gave him a soft smile. "Do you understand what I mean?"