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My Submissive Teacher: 3 Hole Slut

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My Submissive Teacher: 3 Hole Slut

Summary: Student has best night of his life with ex-teacher in Mexico.

Note 1: This is a Summer 2015 Contest Story so please vote.

Note 2: This is dedicated to all you sweet dedicated teachers like myself who fantasize about letting out their inner slut for just one night (Well maybe two or three…LOL). It is also dedicated to all the students who have fantasized about fucking their sweet teachers into submission.

Note 3: Thanks to goamz86, Robert, and Wayne for editing.

My Submissive Teacher: 3 Hole Slut

Mrs. Harper was the nicest teacher I had in my senior year. When I say nice it isn’t really a compliment. I mean nice in the ‘you-can-easily-play-her-to-get-extensions-nice, the teacher you can easily manipulate. She never raised her voice, she never got angry or annoyed and she always, always had a smile in her face.

Her big tits, which she couldn’t even hide in her conservative attire, often had me drooling…being a tits guy. Based on her pleasing personality, I imagined her being rather similar in the bedroom…a submissive who was eager to please. At least when I jerked off to thoughts of her that was how I imagined ending up banging her.

She was cute in an I-just-turned-forty-I-had-kids-and-never-completely-lost-all-the-baby-weight sort of way. She had very pretty blue eyes, blonde hair and adorable dimples. I imagine she was very hot in her high school years.

Then three months in, rumours galore hit that Mrs. Harper caught her husband having an affair with his secretary. I knew the rumour was obviously true based on the fact that when I walked into class when she had returned a few days later. She looked sad, lost; her smile was forced and her lively energetic persona was gone.

After Christmas holidays, though, she returned a different woman. She went back to her maiden name, Ms. Champlin. She had a new hairdo, wore make-up and looked slimmer. She had shifted from sweet and cute, to sexy and hot as hell as the rest of the year progressed. I didn’t have her second semester, having passed with a 55, my usual just get by grade, but she continued to get thinner and hotter as the year went on. Her outfits got tighter, as instead of hiding her voluptuous tits, she showcased them and her skirts got shorter as her heels got higher. It was a beautiful transition.

It was three weeks into summer holidays when I first saw her in a bikini and decided I was going to fuck her.

It was all very serendipitous. I was in Mexico at an all exclusive resort for a week with two buddies I graduated with, and who is the first person I see by the pool…Ms. Champlin.

My cock hardened as I saw her long legs and voluptuous breasts in a very skimpy, looking for attention, bikini.

I said to my boys, “That’s Ms. Champlin.”

“Fuck off,” Brian said.

“Shit, she looks MILF-a-Licious,” Adam added.

“I have wanted to see those tits since junior year,” Brian added.

“Shot slut,” I called out.

“Fuck off, Brian cursed, his most common response to most things.

“I called her,” I pointed out. The rule started in high school when we decided to see who could bed the most girls. Like calling shotgun for who gets the passenger seat, ‘shot slut’ gave you first crack at a chick. But you could only call it once a day for obvious reasons.

Adam laughed, “That I would love to see.”

“Is that a challenge?” I questioned, loving a challenge. I had bedded four different cheerleaders that year (they definitely talk!); I had scored the intern teacher just a couple weeks ago, once the school year was done, and I took the virginity of the biggest nerd in our school. I wasn’t drop dead handsome, but had the bad boy look and charm that made it easy to get the ladies. The thought of scoring Ms. Champlin…a teacher…was too appetizing a challenge not to try.

“Of course,” Adam nodded, glancing over for a lengthy stare at our ex-teacher.

“Challenge accepted,” I confidently responded, although I wasn’t convinced this was one I could complete. I reminisced back to the past school year and her do-anything-for-someone personality and wondered if she was submissive. I also was curious who she was here with.

“This is going to be epic… an epic fail… Joey finally will fail,” Brian said.

“You mean like you did in Math?” I shot back, Brian not actually graduating after failing math.

“Fuck you,” he shot back.

“You’re not my type,” I quipped back.

“Well go and fuck Ms. Champlin,” Adam said slyly, clearly not believing I was going to succeed, always the one to get us back on track when things went Mano-o-Mano.

“Game on,” I nodded, turning around and looking at my former teacher sipping on a cocktail.

I went to the bar, asked the bartender what Ms. Champlin was having; he pointed me to the waiter who told me. I ordered another one for her and a rum for me and sauntered over with not much of a real plan in mind. I had casino siteleri found that pick-up lines seldom worked, but authentic conversation, on the other hand, was very effective.

Reaching her, I sat beside her as she read a book, and opened, “Fancy meeting a woman like you in a place like this.”

She looked up and stammered, clearly surprised, “J-J-Joey, what are you doing here?”

“A last boy’s trip before college,” I answered. “What about you?”

“A get the hell out of Dodge trip,” she answered, surprisingly bluntly.

I handed her a drink, “I think I owe you at least one of these.”

“Oh, you owe me more than that,” she laughed.

“Fair enough,” I shrugged.

“You know students like you always drive me nuts,” she said, sipping from her drink.

“Why so?” I asked, keeping my charming smile on.

“Kids who don’t live up to their potential,” she said.

“I’m going to college,” I countered.

“On a football scholarship,” she countered back.

“That’s bad?” I asked.

“Of course not, I’m very proud of you,” she said, suddenly realizing she was critiquing me, and added, “but you were capable of so much more in my class.”

“Fair enough,” I nodded. “But enough about school. Who are you here with Ms. Champlin?”

“Just myself,” she shrugged, trying to hide her loneliness.

“Why?” I asked, knowing asking questions was a great way to build trust in women, especially in women who don’t trust you.

She shrugged, “Just wanted some time alone.” That said, her tone implied something else.

“A little self-discovery,” I asked.

“I suppose,” she said, changing the subject after downing half her drink, “So who else is here with you?”

“Brian and Adam,” I replied.

“And where are they?” She asked, looking around.

“I have no idea,” I shrugged. “We often split up.”

“Hunting for girls?” She asked, smiling. Man her smile was sexy.

“Sometimes,” I shrugged, before adding, being flirtatious for the first time, “although I like women.”

“Is that so?” She said, raising an eyebrow, sensing I was hitting on her.

“I like a woman with experience,” I replied, sensing that I had a chance based on her reactions so far.

As she finished her drink, “Well, I hope you find such a woman.”

I grabbed the suntan lotion sitting beside her and said, “You look like you need another coat.”

“Are you my cabana boy now?” she asked, her tone not one of a teacher, but of a sexy woman flirting.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” I replied, flirting right back, as I poured lotion into my hands and moved to her legs before she could tell me to stop.

She didn’t stop me, nor did she say anything. Instead, she returned to the book she was reading. I slathered we up both legs and feet and then asked, “Do you want your back done?”

She looked up at me, put her book down and asked, “What about my belly, neck and shoulders?”

My stiff cock flinched in my trunks. I think she noticed as a wide grin crossed her face.

I nodded, trying to act cool and not like the horny teenager I was, “Of course.”

I put more lube on her and did her firm belly, and front of her neck, my hands so close to her voluptuous tempting breasts.

She wordlessly moved up so I could go behind her and I did her shoulders and back of her neck. Although I generously lathered her with lotion, I also gave her a quick shoulder massage, which turned into a longer one as she moaned, ever so softly, “That feels good.”

So I continued massaging her shoulders, my cock iron stiff and ever-so-slightly poking her back.

She then laid down on her belly and suggested, “You better get the rest of my back and my legs too.”

“Yes, Ms. Champlin,” I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me.

“You can call me Ruth,” she offered, as I lotioned up her back while staring at her amazing ass covered by the thinnest of material.

I wanted to fuck her then and there. Of course, I couldn’t. I needed to play this perfectly.

I asked, “Do you want me to untie your bikini top Ruth? I’d hate for you to have a tan line there.”

“I bet you would,” she retorted, before giving me permission, “But it’s probably a good idea.”

My hands trembled as I was shocked with the permission. I undid it and the strings fell to her sides. Man I wanted to see those breasts.

But for the time being, I played it as cool as I could. I massaged lotion all over her back and right to where her bikini bottom began.

My hands lingered there for a moment, temptation an evil seductress, before I moved down to the back of her legs.

I took my time, deciding I was going to do this as long as she was going to allow me to.

I did her feet, her ankles, her calves, and up to her thighs… excitingly close to her pussy.

She finally spoke, “That’s good, Joey. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Ruth,” I complimented, resisting the urge to give a firm squeeze to her tight ass.

After a pause, I asked, “What’re you doing for supper tonight?”

She didn’t move, remaining on canlı casino her stomach, “Are you asking me out for dinner, Joey?”

“Only if the answer is yes,” I replied.

“That’s very generous at an all-inclusive hotel,” she said slyly.

“You deserve the best,” I joked, sitting on the edge of the lawn chair.

“My husband sure didn’t think that,” she sarcastically responded.

“He was obviously an idiot,” I replied, and meaning it, before deciding to put my left hand on her ass.

As I hoped, she didn’t demand I move it, instead she asked, “Do you always put your hand on your teacher’s ass?”

“You’d be the first,” I admitted, before I added, “And now we are both consenting adults.”

“So I should be flattered?” She questioned, ignoring the ‘consenting adults’ comment.

“You’re a very beautiful woman,” I replied.

“And old enough to be your mother,” she countered.

“I told you,” I continued, my cock dying for release, in awe that the conversation was going this way. I gave her ass a firm squeeze and added, “I like my women older.”

She didn’t say anything and for a minute there was silence. She then asked, “Could you please do my straps back up?”

“Sure,” I nodded, wondering if I had somehow gone too far, even though I didn’t think I had.

I did it back up, although a little loose.

She sat up and I asked, trying to keep the momentum going, “So, dinner – is it a yes?”

She reached down, grabbed her bag, and stood up.

Fuck, I blew it.

I stood up too.

She looked directly at me, looking teacher serious, and asked, “Were you thinking sausage for me and fish for you?”

I gasped.

She continued, “I do like a nice thick long sausage,” as she slyly reached forward and squeezed my throbbing dick. She purred, moving her hand away just as quickly, “Mmmmmmm, nice sausage.”

I was speechless, which was new for me.

“I want a date for salsa dancing tonight at a club in town,” she continued, “and I’m told it’s not safe for a pretty woman to be going out and about alone. Do you want to go with me?”

“Y-y-yeah,” I nodded, barely able to speak, even though my plan was working.

“Good,” she nodded, “come to my room at 7:00. We’ll have a late dinner and then go out.”

“Sounds good,” I agreed, trying to sound casual, even though my voice actually broke a bit.

She smiled, “Room 1212.”

“Got it,” I nodded.

“By the way, I don’t fuck on the first date. She then leaned in, squeezing my cock again, added, “But I definitely suck on the first date.” She tugged on my ear, my whole body quivering at her touch.

She moved away and said, “See you tonight, Joey,” and walked away.

I didn’t move as I watched her walk away from behind, my cock pointing directly at her through my trunks.

Once she was out of view, I smiled. My plan had worked. I had a date with her.

As I went to find the boys, it occurred to me to wonder, ‘Had I played her, or had she just played me?’

…..

When I found my buddies a few minutes later, Adam said, “Looks like you did better than we anticipated.”

“I’m taking her salsa dancing tonight,” I replied, still in awe of what just happened.

“So you’re in,” Adam said.

“Like Flynn,” Brian added, a joke we had been using throughout our senior year.

“I think so,” I nodded, distracted.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asked, “You got your in?”

The truth was, something had changed during our brief flirtation. I couldn’t explain what it was, but I felt a strange connection to Ruth, unlike I did to all the teen girls or MILF’s I had fucked.

Sex had become a game where I just tallied up notches on a bedpost, but somehow this seemed different. Yet, it shouldn’t be. She was twice my age, and a teacher, it wasn’t like we were going to be in a relationship.

I nodded, trying to be my normal self. “Yeah, I’m in and I’m going to be all in tonight.”

Brian laughed, high fiving me, “Yeah, you are.”

Oddly, even though we all competed for the ladies and the most pussies, we also lived vicariously through each other’s triumphs… a sexual band of brothers.

We bullshitted some more, mostly in awe of how I was going to ‘bang’, their words, Ms. Champlin, as I told an abridged version of our conversation.

Anyway, that night I went to her room, which was on the top floor, dressed to the nines, a mixture of excitement and trepidation coursing through me.

I knocked on the door and my already stiff cock flinched in my trousers as she opened the door and was dressed showcasing every asset she had. She was in a super sexy, super tight black and red Mexican dress that didn’t remotely hide her voluptuous breasts or her firm legs which were encased in shiny beige pantyhose. Her hair was down, her lips were bright red and her entire look said, “Fuck me now!”

I complimented, “You look beautiful.”

“You look handsome yourself,” she greeted back, as she slid into red high heels that looked to be four inches high.

“Are you going to be able to dance in those?” I asked.

“I kaçak casino can do anything in these,” she replied, although her sultry tone implied sex.

“Good to know,” I nodded, desperately trying to be casual.

She asked, “Would you like a quick cocktail before we leave?”

“Sure,” I nodded, the surreal evening overwhelming me.

I expected her to go and grab a drink in the massive room she had, but she instead dropped to her knees and fished out my cock.

I gasped… paralyzed.

She asked, her hand on my completely stiff rod, “Is this hard because of me?”

“Y-y-yes,” I stammered, in complete awe of what was happening.

“Very impressive,” she nodded, as she opened her mouth and took my cock in between her beautiful, red lips.

I groaned, “Holy shit,” as she began bobbing on my seven inch cock.

Unlike most girls who sucked me, she didn’t go slow or take breaks every few seconds. No, she bobbed hungrily on my cock taking all seven inches in her mouth. Only one MILF, who I met at a bar I got into while underage, had ever taken all my cock in her mouth before today.

I just watched and enjoyed the amazing pleasure my former teacher gave me.

Not surprisingly, in only a couple of minutes, I was near eruption. I warned, “I’m going to come soon, Ms. Champlin.”

She kept sucking, somehow even faster, and I deposited my load down her throat a few bobs later. Only a few girls had swallowed and only a couple willingly, so this too was amazing.

She milked every last drop out of my cock, before finally allowing my cock to slip out of her mouth. She stood back up and smiled, “Very yummy,” before leaning forward and kissing me.

When she broke the kiss, I said, likely sounding like the teen I was, “That was the most amazing blow job I have ever had.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls who blow you,” she smiled, turning around and grabbing her purse.

I noticed then that her pantyhose had seams going up the back of them that made her outfit even hotter.

I replied, “True, but this time I mean it.”

“Just wanted to get the awkward ‘is this going to end in sex or not out’ of the way,” she smiled, before adding, “you probably should put that away before we leave.”

As I put my dick back in my pants, she added, “So that was date one, now we are on date two.”

I asked, my confidence swelling after the blow job, “And what do you do on date two?”

“Anything you want,” she answered, as she walked by me and left me standing there bewildered.

Holy fuck! I had hit the mother load!

I followed after her, closing the door, and took her hand in mine.

She asked, “Do you want to be seen with a woman twice your age in public holding hands? There will be a lot of young Mexican skanks out and about willing and ready to devour you whole.”

I smiled, as I gave her hand a squeeze, “Tonight, I only have eyes for you.”

“Keep saying things like that and you are going to get very, very lucky tonight,” she replied.

“I’m already very lucky,” I replied. Always being good at turning on the charm.

“Oh, you have no idea just how lucky you may still get,” she said back, just as the elevator opened.

Once inside, the door closed, she asked, “Are you a tits guy?”

“I’m an everything guy,” I replied, which was true. I loved everything about women. I loved tits, pussy, ass and legs. But I also loved their smiles, eyes and moans.

“Did you ever fantasize about these tits in my class?” She asked, pulling down her dress to reveal the huge tits that were apparently not being held up by a bra.

“Oh, God,” I gasped, staring at the round perfection.

“Is that a yes?” She asked, as she pulled her dress back over her breasts and very erect nipples.

“A million times yes,” I replied, moving my gaze reluctantly back to her eyes, like a gentleman would do.

“I’ve always wondered what horny teenage boys thought of me,” she said.

“They all wanted to suck on your breasts,” I answered.

“Anything else?” She asked, as the elevator slowed down.

“Your legs are amazing too,” I said, before adding, “especially in nylons.”

“My loser of an ex-husband loved nylons on me,” she replied, as we got out of the elevator. “And now I wear them to showcase my legs to men.”

“My win,” I nodded, as we walked out to one of the already waiting taxis.

“After you,” I offered.

“Such a gentleman,” she smiled.

Deciding it was my turn to shock. I quipped, “Until I shoot a load all over your face.”

She didn’t miss a beat as she challenged, “Promises, promises.”

During the short taxi ride, she leaned into me, her hand on my leg.

At the restaurant, Ruth was very blunt as we chatted during our meal.

I learned that she married her high school sweetheart, and that she was pregnant by nineteen and by twenty-one she had already had both their children.

She didn’t get her degree until she was twenty-nine and although she was furious about being cheated on, she considered it a blessing in disguise.

Both her children were in college. Her daughter Suzanne going into her third year at Oxford in the fall and her son, who I vaguely knew because he was in my graduating class but we didn’t hang in the same circles, was going to MIT for computer programming.

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