It was a cheque, made out to cash, but it was the numbers on it that I just couldn’t take in, there was a five, a zero and a comma followed by another three zeros.
It took a while for it to sink in, fifty thousand pounds, no strings attached, Jesus, that much money was beyond my wildest dreams and a house with it too! “You will come with us Jill won’t you?” “That’s something I’d have to think about very hard,” said Jill.
“Well, I vote we have a barbeque down in the garden while we all talk about it.
” Mum was back to her usual bubbly self again and raring to go.
“I’ll have to wear something of yours, Polly,” said Jill, then she coloured up.
“Er, that’s if we were, well you know.
” I laughed and drew her into my arms.
“Do you mean if we’re going to get all dirty and fuck ourselves silly?” She giggled as I slid a hand beneath her skirt.
” Mum jumped to her feet, “Let’s make a deal, you wear anything I say, and you can tell me what to wear.
” “I’ve got an even better idea,” I said, “I’ll pick the clothes for both of you and then I’ll get some films for the Polaroid while you dress each other.
” Jill giggled as mum’s fingers joined mine inside her panties.
“Come on then I’m wet already.
” Yes, I’m THAT teacher.
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The one you fantasized about.
The one in the old Van Halen “Hot for Teacher” video.
The one that inspires the comment: “I wish my teachers looked like that when I was in high school.
” That teacher.
I know all the schoolboy fantasies you harbored when you were sixteen: Private after-school detentions where I draw the blinds and ride your cock on top of the lab table. Thai glasses.
Stolen moments in my closet while the rest of the class has gone to lunch.
Maybe I’ll wank you until you’re gasping for breath, shooting your cum all over my tits as they spill out of my low-cut top.
Hanging back in the locker room after gym class, where I drop to my knees and suck your dick until you tangle your fists in my hair, screaming as you cum in my mouth. Girl to fuck it now in new zealand.
I know what you wanted back then.
I know you remember those fantasies.
I know you get hard and stroke yourself while you reminisce about “that teacher,” and that turns me on too.
But there’s a lot you don’t know about me. Black men getting fucked by strap ons.
I have fantasies of my own, and sometimes I act on them in ways you wouldn’t believe.
For example, there’s the hot new basketball coach.
Yes, THAT basketball coach.
The one that all the girls whisper about, doodling on their notebooks, pairing his last name with their first name to see how it looks. Explicite art blowjob gif.
Walking the long route to class just to pass by his room, then dropping something by his door so they can bend down in front of him.