The Home-Ec Teacher
by Karen Ziegler 


FOREWORD 

While the expression, "sexual revolution", has become a nearly meaningless 
cliche since its adoption by the popular press, it is undeniably true that 
the climate of the times in regard to deviate sexual groups has altered 
considerably in recent years. The Womens' Liberation Movement is the most 
obvious manifestation of this change, having received wide coverage in all 
national and international media, but there are many other less well-known 
groups whose uphill fights against suppression and bigotry have been less 
publicized, but are nevertheless of great significance. 

Lesbians, for example, no longer need feel a necessity to hide their sexual 
proclivities behind a psychologically damaging blanket of "respectability". 
Instead, they are able to live together honestly, in .couples or in groups, 
accepted by much - though, of course, not yet all - of "normal" society. The 
same is true for prostitutes, who are fighting for their legal rights and 
have gained some measure of acceptance from the general public through such 
widely read books as The Happy Hooker. Unwed mothers, particularly in modern 
societies such as Scandinavia, are not looked upon with the horrified 
disgust which they and their innocent offspring previously encountered, and 
communal families, wife-swapping, and variations of a menage a trois 
relationship are so common as to arouse no sense of surprise even among our 
more conservative citizens. 

Although in our sexually oriented age more and more "perversions" are being 
considered "alternative life styles", there are still certain deviations 
from the norm which remain unacceptable to a large majority of the 
population. Few Americans can condone rape, animal sodomy, or child 
molestation. Unfortunately, the man on the street's quite understandable 
horror of the latter act has carried over into a blind and unreasonable 
distrust of the older woman who prefers younger boys to men of her own age. 

It is precisely this controversial dilemma which prize-winning novelist 
Karen Zeigler explores in her newest novel, The Home-Ec Teacher. Can it 
really be considered child molestation when the youngster is willing and 
eager? The perceptive reader cannot help asking himself this question upon 
finishing this hard-hitting expose of the behind-the-scenes life at a 
typical American junior high school. 

Experts tell us that there is nothing inately unnatural or unhealthy in a 
young boy discovering adult sexuality with a mature woman rather than 
experimenting among his peers. She is able to teach him to respect and enjoy 
his body as no teenage girl could possibly do, able to overcome his nervous 
timidity because she herself is confident in her own femininity. On a purely 
physical level, it is common knowledge that a woman reaches her sexual peak 
far later than a man, so that a older woman-younger boy relationship could 
be nature's answer to sexual satisfaction. 

Miss Zeigler does not presume to have all the answers, but she does pose 
some very important questions which are of importance to all 
socially-conscious Americans. Although her frank, painfully realistic style 
of writing is certainly not recommended for the emotionally immature, we, 
the publishers, sincerely believe that this story can help overcome some of 
our society's unjust prejudice against these women who harm no one - and 
help many. 

-The Publishers 

Chapter One 

"Zzzzzhhhhhmmmmm. . . zzzhhhmmm. . . " 

A fat black fly zigzagged across the scarred surface of Principal Harding's 
cluttered desk, coming to rest between a pile of dime store ledgers labeled 
"attendance records". It sniffed curiously at a brownish coffee stain, then 
moved on to inspect a red spiral notebook, its thin legs vibrating above the 
peeling "Employees" label, before it crawled off in the direction of an 
obviously brand-new textbook optimistically entitled, "The Happy Homemaker!" 

Krista Morrisson's gold-flecked brown eyes followed the insect's random 
path, half-hypnotized by the droning beat of its wings. Its somniferous 
buzz, Preston Harding's monotone Midwestern twang, and the suffocating 
closeness of the unventilated room were lulling the twenty-three year old 
blonde into a dreamy state of lethargy. 

"... happy joining our faculty family, 'Miss Morris'." 

"Morrisson," Krista roused herself to reply. 

In a determined effort to stay awake, the curvaceous teacher shook her 
shoulder-length, honey-gold curls and stifled the yawn that rose in her 
throat by twisting her mouth into a contorted grimace. Why can't they at 
least open a window? she asked herself, and as though it had heard the words 
that rang in Krista's brain, the fly ceased its lackadaisical circling of 
the shiny pink dome topping School Superintendent Andersen's balding head 
and began beating its wings against the gritty window pane. It wants to get 
out of here as badly as I do, she thought distractedly, squirming uneasily 
on her metal folding chair in futile search of a position in which the sharp 
edge would not cut into the sensitive flesh of her naked thighs. 

"Uh, Miss Morrisson, of course, of course," Principal Harding cleared his 
throat several times, then apologized. "So sorry, my dear." 

Neither of the two dark-suited men seated in the stuffy cubicle which served 
as the junior high school principal's office noticed anything peculiar about 
their newly-hired home economics instructor's facial expression, for their 
undivided attention was directed toward more interesting parts of her 
anatomy. 

While the middle-aged principal recited cliche after cliche concerning the 
merits and rewards of a career at Franklin Junior High School, he kept his 
beady brown eyes glued to the twin mounds of feminine flesh bulging above 
the provocative scoop neckline of the young teacher's white sundress. As for 
his white-haired superior, his bifocals glinted in avid admiration upon the 
shapely young woman's sun-bronzed, silk-smooth thighs. 

Dirty old men! Krista abandoned her unsuccessful efforts to concentrate on 
the pot-bellied educator's laborious proclamations as she felt the men's 
undressing eyes boring through her lightweight summer dress. Pompous old 
windbags! 

For a moment the irritated young blonde wished that she'd elected to wear 
something other than this skimpy dress with its plunging neckline and short 
flared skirt, but then she checked herself. After all, she'd put this on 
because the temperature in Pottawattamie Heights, Ohio, on this early 
September morning was 97 degrees in the shade. Didn't she have a right to be 
comfortable? Why should all men treat her so disrespectfully just because 
she had breasts and hips? She certainly wasn't about to wear a heavy wool 
suit like their ridiculous, old-fashioned getups - why, they looked like 
over-fed penguins! 

All my life it's been the same! The attractive young teacher fidgeted 
restlessly as Arnold Andersen's grizzled head bent down to assess her 
sculptured calves and slim ankles. Men are just animals - all they can think 
about is sex! I'd thought things might be different now that I'm not just 
another pretty student. .. but these men are exactly the same as all the 
others, even they're both old enough to be my father and too ugly for even a 
wife to love! 

"... don't you agree, Miss Morris - uh - Morrisson?" the principal's rasping 
voice broke through Krista's resentful reverie. 

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of the newly-hired home economics 
teacher's stomach as she realized that she'd not heard a word the men had 
said. What in God's name were they going to think of her now - even if she 
didn't like Harding or Andersen, she did want to make a good impression on 
her first employers. 

"I - I'm sorry, Mr. Harding," she began in a firm tone that effectively 
disguised her confusion, "but I don't think I fully grasp just exactly what 
you meant..." 

The corpulent white-haired man smiled - or perhaps leered would be a more 
accurate description - in the direction of the curvaceous new teacher's 
low-cut bodice. 

"Let me make myself more clear," he paused to pull a box of cheap cigars 
from his coat pocket, offering one to his older superior who accepted with a 
sycophantic smile. Both men lit up at once, and the young blonde almost 
choked as odious smoke filled the tiny office. 

"What I meant to imply," he continued, "was simply that although we 
certainly do want to continue the cooking and sewing lessons in the ninth 
grade, we also feel that a greater emphasis should be placed on subjects 
like budget planning, first aid, personal hygiene, baby care - that sort of 
thing. Maybe it's a little - uh -progressive of us," he gave a rather prissy 
chuckle as he glanced in the direction of his colleague, "but we think it's 
wise for our girls to be aware of these matters. I'm sure you agree, Miss 
Morrisson." 

Before answering, Krista abruptly stood up and threw open the small window 
behind her. The fly vanished into the open fields surrounding the new junior 
high school, and the young teacher stood watching it and taking deep breaths 
of the faintly smoke-scented air before turning to face the men. 

"I do agree - as far as it goes," her drowsiness was rapidly being conquered 
by her growing dislike for these portly, self-important bores. "But what 
about the boys? Don't they need to know about these things, too?" 

Superintendent Andersen exchanged a glance of tolerant amusement with 
Preston Harding, who was a carbon copy of his superior minus twenty years 
and about twenty pounds of fat. Both men drew in on their cigars, sending a 
trail of evil-smelling smoke spiraling past Krista's distastefully wrinkling 
nostrils before it drifted out the window. 

"Ah-ha! So we've got one of those women's libbers on our staff!" the older 
man chortled, and Preston obediently echoed his disdainful laughter. "Next 
thing we know, our boys will be running around in frilly aprons and taking 
up knitting instead of football!" 

Krista's lovely features flushed bright pink with annoyance. Were these 
crass stuffed-shirts a hundred years behind the times? Although she'd never 
been interested in joining any organized women's groups, and in fact found 
most of their literature too didactic and opinionated to finish reading, she 
firmly believed in the basic principle that males and females should have 
equal rights and opportunities. Surely every educated person felt that way - 
at least, everyone at her rather exclusive girls' college had ... 

"Nonsense!" she snapped crisply. "We live in a changing world where the 
traditional family is being broken up, and by the time these youngsters are 
adults, the men may very well need to know how to take care of children and 
prepare food. More and more mothers take outside jobs every year, and surely 
it's ridiculous to expect them to bear the full burden of the kids and the 
house, too. It's only common sense!" 

"Well . . . harumph . . . well, well," Superintendent Andersen began, but 
before he could think of a proper reply to the young blonde's onslaught of 
words, she interrupted him. 

"And as for knitting, I suppose you know that there are certain tribes in 
Lapland where only men are allowed to knit or weave. It's simply a question 
of social customs - and I hope America is more open-minded than a primitive 
tribe and can pull itself out of its old-fashioned ideas about sexual 
roles!" 

"Of course!" Preston Harding agreed heartily, not really understanding just 
what she was saying but somehow having the impression that to disagree would 
be unpatriotic. "But we aren't talking about Eskimos, are we?" he looked 
toward his superior, who nodded in support. "We're talking about Franklin 
Junior High School's ninth grade pupils." 

"My point exactly!" Krista exclaimed. 

As she watched the two men's beefy faces grow blank in incomprehension, the 
recent college graduate was tempted to giggle. With an effort, she forced 
her heart-shaped face into an expression of earnest solemnity. 

33% of the nation's high schools have co-ed Home Economics classes," she 
continued, picking a number off the top of her head. "And in higher income 
areas, the figure's 59%." 

"Is that so?" Andersen's ears perked up at the words "higher income," for 
his driving ambition in life was to have the Pottawattamie Heights school 
district - which also included the neighboring middle-class subdivision of 
Country Club Hills, and a more exclusive new development bearing the 
rhapsodic name of Arcadia - be the most prestigious school system in the 
greater Toledo area. "I hadn't realized that..." 

"Very interesting," Principal Harding's voice rose an octave to mimic the 
older man's tone of approval. "No, I didn't know it was more than a passing 
fad at some of those weirdo progressive schools." 

"Not at all!" Krista's exuded a persuasive self-assurance now that she could 
tell they were seriously considering her suggestion. "And, of course, the 
girls take shop classes, too!" 

The two men stared at one another, aghast as this new insult to their 
conservative souls. 

"Girls in shop class?" Preston Harding hedged dubiously. "I don't know what 
Rex Simmons'll have to say about that." 

Suddenly the superintendent's pudgy face broke into a broad smile. "I never 
heard Simmons complaining about being around the girls," he guffawed, then 
turned to face Krista. "I like your idea, Miss Morrisson. We'll be the first 
school district in the Toledo area to do this, and it'll be written up in 
the papers. Increase our prestige and all that. What do you say, Harding?" 

"You're entirely right, of course, sir," the middle-aged educator agreed, 
but his face was clouded with doubt as he slowly shook his thick neck and 
scattered a fresh crop of dandruff on his black suit jacket. "But. .. well.. 
. there's one more problem which-" 

"Problem?" the pretty blonde demanded. "I can't see any problem!" She paused 
to light one of the Camel Filters which she chain-smoked, then continued, 
"After all, we discussed this in my education classes at Mount St. Catherine 
College, and I know better than to antagonize the boys by treating them like 
sissies. I have all sorts of plans for making them understand that cooking 
and sewing are fun." 

"That's fine ... but I don't mean cooking and sewing . .. I'm speaking of 
the - uh - personal hygiene lessons I mentioned." 

What's he getting at now? Krista asked herself. Is personal hygiene some 
sort of euphemism for sex education? Why can't he fust say what he means? 

"I still don't see any problem," she said aloud, staring directly at the 
embarrassed principal. "Certainly you don't object to young boys learning to 
take care of their bodies in a healthy way?" 

"W-well. .. harumph ... Miss Conaway - God rest her soul - used to tell the 
girls about - uh - their monthly difficulties. She showed them a nice movie 
made by Walt Disney." 

A sudden vivid picture of herself as a skinny, pigtailed thriteen year old 
seated in a darkened room full of tittering girls watching that very same 
educational cartoon flashed before the blonde teacher's eyes. We thought it 
was silly and childish ten years ago, she asked herself. What must today's 
sophisticated pre-adolescents think of it? The young teenagers she'd 
observed hanging around the "sweetshop" and various drive-in restaurants in 
her week here in Pottawattamie Heights seemed far more mature both in body 
and actions than she herself had been at that age. 

"I am familiar with that particular film," she began, jabbing out her Camel 
with unnecessary vehemence. "But don't you think that it's a bit immature 
for ninth graders? I mean, the average girl's menstruating by the time she's 
twelve, and surely these students are interested in learning about other 
things by now." 

She'd deliberately emphasized the word "menstruating" in order to disconcert 
the prissy school principal, and was rewarded by seeing a bright red blush 
creeping up over his thick neck and long-jowled face. Lighting another 
cigarette, she continued her tirade. 

"These students aren't children any longer, you know. They're old enough to 
get in trouble if they don't know the facts about sexual matters. Unwed 
fourteen year old mothers aren't nearly as rare as they ought to be, and 
it's mostly due to simple ignorance!" 

Krista's voice rang with earnest sincerity, for she was remembering the 
unhappy situation of her own personal life. Would things have turned out so 
badly with Brian if I'd been taught something about sex? she asked herself. 
Would I be so confused... so unable to deal with men.. . ? Isn't sex at the 
root of most of my problems? 

Raising her amber eyes toward the principal's ruddy face and the 
superintendent's lickerish leer, she opened her mouth to explain herself 
further, but the older man interrupted her before she could begin. 

"Well, well, well," he chortled, winking at his colleague. "Miss Morrisson's 
certainly a very determined young lady, and I daresay she's more experienced 
in the subject than dear old Miss Conoway was." 

"Bless her soul," Harding intoned piously, even as his eyes followed 
Andersen's intent gaze toward the new teacher's proudly straining breasts. 

By God, I can see her nipples! he thought in astonishment. He was so bemused 
by the faint pink areolas peaking pertly through the thin material of the 
young blonde's smooth-cup nylon brassiere and flimsy white sundress that his 
attention strayed from the superintendent's next words. 

"I think we ought to give her a free rein and see what happens," the balding 
educator said. His beady eyes gleamed with lascivious glee as in his mind's 
eye he saw this haughty young woman reduced to tears by the crude gibes and 
snickers of the class as she tried to explain about sexual intercourse. "Why 
don't we assign room 901 to her for the first term, while 902 takes shop, 
and then switch around second semester?" 

"Wh-what was that, sir?" Preston Harding tore his eyes from the splendor of 
Miss Morrisson's full breasts with difficulty. 

"Assign room 901, in particular, was notorious for its high percentage of 
undisciplined pupils, and there was no doubt in Harding's mind but that a 
couple of hygiene sessions - not to mention cooking and sewing, which these 
young hoodlums would never accept - would cure the silly teacher of her 
audacious ideas. 

"A fine idea, sir," he nodded gravely. "Give it a try ... " 

"You'll be able to plan the new hygiene course in time for the first day of 
school, Miss Morrisson?" Andersen inquired. "Of course, we don't have any 
material on hand.. . but I suppose you have enough firsthand knowledge of 
the subject matter ..." 

As she realized the corner she'd talked herself into, the fair-skinned 
blonde's pretty face blanched, then flushed a becoming shade of pink. Oh 
God! her mind whirled. First-hand knowledge?! What does he think I am - a 
prostitute? I'm sure lots of these kids know more about sex than I do! Yet 
in spite of her acute dismay, the proud young woman's voice didn't quaver at 
all when she answered Superintendent Andersen. 

"Of course everything will be prepared for Monday," she said as though no 
doubts had ever crossed her mind. "I'm ...,looking forward to starting 
classes." 

"Good, good!" beamed the maliciously grinning older man. "We're so glad to 
have you here at Franklin Junior High." 

Deducing from the ring of finality in the elderly man's words that this was 
supposed to be her cue to exit, Krista gratefully stuffed her cigarettes 
into her purse and rose from the chair. She held out her hand to them, 
uncomfortably aware of their lingering leers at her voluptuous body. 

"So nice speaking with you," she said, shaking their hands. Anderson's palm 
was damp, the feel of a lizard; the principal's dry, but limp as a kleenex. 
Repressing a shudder of disgust, the new teacher escaped from the office. 

The two small-town educators listened to the click of Krista Morrisson's 
high heeled sandals hurrying down the corridor, and then Superintendent 
Andersen's round face broadened into a complacent grin. 

"If she can handle those loudmouthed punks in 901," he drawled, pulling his 
box of cigars from his pocket and staring contemplatively at them, "I'll eat 
my cigar!" 

Preston Harding nodded, but made no reply. The young teacher's round high 
breasts were still dancing across his eyeballs, interspersed with less 
stimulating images of his overweight, ill-tempered wife Lois, whose 
pendulous breasts were encased in a size 40-D corset. Never, not even in the 
time of his wild youth at State Teacher's College, had he so much as kissed 
a voluptuous female like the one who'd just walked out of his office. 

"Personally," he said, his flabby face slackened into a mask of pure lust, 
"I'd like to get a mouthful of Miss Morrisson's big tits!" 

Chapter Two 

The front of calm confidence which Krista had displayed before her two new 
employers remained with her until she had driven three of the four miles 
which separated the expanding suburb of Pottawattamie Heights from the three 
year old subdivision called Country Club Hills in which Krista had rented a 
one-bedroom "townhouse" apartment. 

I can't do it! a panic-stricken voice inside her mind wailed just as she was 
passing the rustic-styled buildings of Pottawattamie Emporium, a brand-new 
shopping center built to resemble an old Western trading post. I can't 
possibly teach a co-ed sex class! I have to get out of it somehow... 

The anguished young blonde's hands shook so badly on the steering wheel that 
she was forced to slow her emerald green Volkswagon to 30 mph and shift into 
second gear. Exerting every ounce of her willpower, she forced herself to 
concentrate on the heavy Labor Day weekend traffic until she reached the 
semi-detached, two-story building which she'd been calling "home" for a week 
now. The instant she walked in the door and flopped down on the imitation 
leather couch, however, the full force of her doubts and dread descended on 
her. 

By now it was late afternoon, and the row of spindly trees which the 
developer had planted in Country Club Hills' parkways cast long, thin 
shadows snaking across the yellowing crabgrass of the small front lawn. To 
the disturbed twenty-three year old teacher, the wavering silhouettes seemed 
an advancing host of taunting adolescent males who menaced her with their 
long slender penises. Shuddering with self-disgust, Krista groped nervously 
for a cigarette. 

What's the matter with you? her conscience demanded. Something's wrong with 
people who imagine perverted things like that! It's dirty . . ,sick . . . 

Drawing deeply on her Camel, the young home economics teacher scrutinized 
the flickering shadows in a futile attempt to dispel the forbidden images. A 
clock in the kitchen struck five o'clock, and the baby in the adjoining 
apartment started its chronic colicky wailing, but the young blonde teacher 
was too absorbed in her own problems to hear anything but the thudding beat 
of her own heart. 

Now that I'm teaching this awful so-called personal hygiene class, I'll 
never be able to get rid of thoughts like that, her tortured mind despaired. 
I'll never have a moment's peace from sexual filth . . . and just when I was 
hoping that this new job would help me forget about Brian and the terrible 
thing he did to me. 

A fleeting image of her ex-boyfriend's handsome face flashed before Krista's 
brown eyes, dispersing the vision of naked young boys but not having the 
least effect on her low spirits. Brian Degraff's dark eyes seemed to bore to 
the very depths of her soul, wounding her with his contempt just as they'd 
done the last time she'd seen him, and his wide, normally grinning mouth was 
twisted into a scornful sneer. 

"Brian ..." she whispered aloud, her voice whining eerily in the rather drab 
furnished apartment. 

At the sound of her soft exclamation, the troubled blonde roused her shapely 
body from the couch and stubbed out her cigarette. You're getting like a 
lonely old lady, talking to yourself this way, her conscience warned. Pull 
yourself together! 

In the past, the sensitive young woman had always found constructive action 
to be the best antidote to depression, so she now headed for the tiny 
kitchen which she'd made the most cheerful room in the flat by painting its 
formerly dirty pink walls a sunny shade of yellow. Krista enjoyed cooking, 
and for the next hour or so she busied herself with concocting a new 
casserole. 

"Lots of vitamins and protein," she murmured as she sliced onions and grated 
cheddar cheese. "Ought to make me feel better. After all, I do believe in 
educating teenagers about sex - I just don't think I'm the right one to be 
teaching them. But if I can act cool and scientific about it, maybe it won't 
be as bad as all that..." 

The home economics teacher's mood improved while she worked, but plummeted 
the moment her nutritious cauliflower au gratin was browning in the oven and 
her hands were again idle. Wandering disconsolately back into the silent 
living room, she stared out the window at the uninspiring view of a row of 
semi-detached houses exactly like her own, except that each one was painted 
a different insipid pastel shade. The sun had just set, and the figures of 
children playing some game with a ball in the street were hazy, unreal 
apparitions. 

Why did I ever think I wanted to teach? she asked herself as gloom sank over 
her. I'm so mixed up myself that I can't possibly do my pupils any good. . . 

Again, an unbidden stabbing memory of her erstwhile boyfriend, Brian 
Degraff, speared through the lonely blonde. What's he doing now? she 
wondered. Which law school did he get into? What kind of girl is he going 
with? 

Yet even as she indulged in a moment of regret for her departed pinmate of 
three years, Krista knew deep inside that she would rather be here alone in 
this solitary apartment in one of Toledo's newest bedroom subdivisions than 
living with Brian as he'd so often suggested. Certainly, it would be nicer 
to have someone to talk to in the long evenings, someone to eat dinner with 
and discuss the events of the day; but then he'd want to go to bed and . . . 
and . .. 

Stop it! the young teacher's mind commanded. Don't think about what he did 
to you again! You're starting a new life now - forget about him! 

Walking with firm, determined steps, the pretty blonde headed for the tiny 
cubbyhole which served as the dwelling's bedroom, and dug out some college 
textbooks from a suitcase in the miniscule closet. Perhaps planning the 
classes she would be starting on Tuesday - three days from now - would blot 
out these unwanted memories. 

Sighing under her breath, Krista lugged the heavy volumes back to the outer 
room and dumped them on the white, synthetic leather couch, then headed back 
into the kitchen. And some wine should cheer me up, too, she decided. I'll 
open that bottle Mother gave me. 

Mrs. Morrison, a slim, gray-haired widow in her late fifties, still lived on 
the big Virginia farm which her husband had run before his death fifteen 
years ago. Although a caretaker actually managed most of the chores and the 
large tobacco fields, the energetic mother spent much of her time and energy 
on her small vegetable garden and orchard. Her chief pride and joy was her 
grape arbor, and her homemade wines had won blue ribbons at the county fairs 
for as long as her daughter could remember. 

"Poor Mom," Krista muttered as she uncorked the bottle and poured some of 
the ruby red liquid into a tall glass. "She couldn't understand why I 
suddenly didn't want to marry Brian ... and of course I couldn't tell her 
the truth." 

The engagement had been broken in April, shortly before the young couple's 
graduation from college, and when Krista returned to the farm to spend the 
summer with her mother before moving north for her first teaching job, she 
was still in a state of depression. Although her mother hadn't nagged at her 
about Brian, the young graduate had not been able to relax as she usually 
could in the country because the questions were constantly in her mother's 
eyes, if not on her lips. 

Only once had the graying widow attempted to discuss the situation with her 
dejected daughter. 

"You know, honey," she'd begun tentatively, "I wish you'd talk to me about 
Brian. I understand a little more about men than you do. They're not like us 
- they're rough and unrestrained, even the best of them, even your father. 
They can't help it." 

Krista had looked away, blushing in discomfort. Her mother's comment had hit 
embarrassingly close to home, and she felt loathe to discuss her boyfriend's 
brutish behavior with her normally reticent parent. 

"Maybe I should have talked to you about. . . these things ... before," her 
mother began again. 

Oh no! Krista groaned inwardly. Not a discussion about the birds and the 
bees! 

Although in principle the college girl believed in the merits of sex 
education, the situation with her mother was somewhat awkward. Once, toward 
the end of a rather drunken party celebrating the marriage of one of Brian's 
cousins, she'd learned some very interesting facts about the father she 
scarcely remembered. Otto Dregraff, her boyfriend's uncle, had filled her in 
on the lurid details while he polished off half a bottle of straight 
bourbon. 

"Liked the women, your Daddy did," the intoxicated man had slurred. "And he 
liked the bottle. Wine, women, and song - that was his motto, though like 
all good Southerners his poison was bourbon. Good man, your Daddy. But like 
they say, only the good die young. And what a helluva way to go too! 
Speeding down the highway in a new Jaguar with a belly full of booze and a 
beautiful, willing dame beside you." 

Krista was never to forget how astonished she'd felt at that moment. Her 
only impression of her long-dead father, up to this point, had come from her 
mother's faithful but uncolorful comments about Arnold Morrisson's good 
character and industrious improvements on the farm. Thinking of him as a 
real person with problems and faults was difficult for the confused 
daughter. 

How could her mother act so calm and uncaring? she wondered. And suddenly a 
long-repressed picture of something that had happened when she was still too 
young to go to school flashed before her mind's eye. Early one morning, when 
she'd sneaked from her bed to investigate the dew-drenched summer garden, 
she'd peeped through the inch-wide crack in the double bedroom door and seen 
her muscular father, his face distorted with sheer animal lust, doing 
something mysteriously frightening to her futilely protesting mother. 

Yes, Mother probably did understand how I felt, she thought. But I still 
couldn't talk about it with her. I wonder if Mom guessed that I'm not a 
virgin, Krista thought now as she savored a mouthful of her mother's light, 
fruity wine. It tasted of summer, of the long sunlit hours of childhood 
she'd spent playing in the big garden, the golden afternoons of her 
adolescence spent seated in the fragrant arbor dreaming over a book of 
poetry. Suddenly the twenty-three year old felt very old and sad. 

This won't do! she lectured herself, downing the glass quickly and pouring 
herself another in the hope that it would lift her out of the doldrums. Pick 
up a book and start concentrating! 

Her slim fingers grasped the volume on top of the pile, something entitled, 
All About The Family. It was intended for high school students, she noticed, 
but probably it would be the right sort of material for the ninth graders 
she was to teach; it was never good to look down on youngsters of that age. 
Opening the book at random, she found herself staring down at a full-page 
diagram of a carefully labeled male penis. 

"Oh, God!" she exclaimed softly. "Am I supposed to draw that on the 
blackboard?" The thought was appalling, and Krista hastily flipped over the 
page only to gasp in even greater dismay. The author was still on the 
subject of male reproductive organs, and this time he'd chosen to make his 
point by inserting a photograph of a naked youth whose fully erect young 
penis pointed straight out from his athletic loins. 

In spite of her initial shock, the Home Ec teacher felt a shameful stab of 
prurient curiosity. The teenager's immature cock was so slender and smooth 
compared to Brian's enormous fleshy cudgel.. . and it made her feel none of 
the horror and panic she'd experienced that evening in her boyfriend's 
fraternity house at the University of Virginia ... 

The book slipped from Krista's lap as she shivered in reaction to her lurid, 
unwanted memories, but she made no move to retrieve it. Instead, the 
troubled blonde poured another cup of wine and let her alcohol-relaxed mind 
fall into a trance-like reverie of the past. 

There'd been absolutely no indication on Friday that the weekend would turn 
out differently from any of the many previous visits which Krista Morrisson 
had made to her boyfriend's nearby campus. In fact, as she rode the train up 
from Mount St. Catherine College to the University together with half a 
dozen other coeds who were pinned to undergraduates, she'd been feeling 
especially lighthearted - who could feel otherwise on such a glorious spring 
day? The Banks and wide fields outside the dusty train windows were 
blanketed with blossoming trees and a rainbow carpet of wild flowers, and 
the sun shone as brightly as midsummer from a cloudless, azure-blue sky. 

We were like butterflies, she thought dreamily now as she stared with 
unseeing eyes at the gathering autumn dusk and poured her fourth glass of 
homemade wine. All wearing new spring dresses, and giggling and fluttering 
around as though there was nothing else to life except having fun. It was 
only a few months ago . . . but it seems like years... 

Nothing had been abnormal that evening, either; they'd gone to a party at 
the off-campus apartment of one of Brian's fraternity brothers, dancing and 
drinking Seagrams and Seven-Up from paper cups as they usually did. Oh, the 
dark-haired pre-law student had drunk too much and tried to get fresh, but 
that was nothing new - he'd been wanting to go too far ever since they'd 
been pinned the spring before, but she'd learned to hold him at bay by 
appealing to his honor as a southern gentleman. He always complained, but he 
nevertheless drove her back to the special dormitory reserved for visiting 
females. 

It was on Saturday that the trouble began, and when she thought back on that 
fateful day, Krista realized she should have seen the storm clouds 
approaching. Everyone had gone out to a nearby forest preserve for a 
"grasser", a sort of picnic where the chief refreshments were kegs of draft 
beer and limp potato chips and Fritos. Although the innocent blonde had 
tried to keep track of how much she was drinking, Brian insisted on 
refilling her paper cup again and again. This, combined with not having 
eaten since a hamburger snack the night before, left her feeling dizzy and 
giggly by the time the sun set and the crowd loaded into their cars to head 
back to the frat house and continue the party indoors. 

All afternoon Brian had been acting more boisterous than usual, and drinking 
very heavily. 

In fact, all the guys had seemed somewhat over-elated, but it was only when 
the seven girls went back to the dorm to change out of their jeans into 
party dresses that Krista had an inkling why. 

Candy Loupe, a buxom brunette whom Krista had never particularly cared for, 
told the others about it in the communal shower room. 

"I stayed over at the house with Phillip last night," she said, obviously 
savoring the effect her statement had on the other girls. "And was it ever 
wild! You just can't imagine!" 

"What do you mean?" Maryrose Milford, another girl Krista rather disliked 
for her vulgar way of speaking, demanded in a shrill, excited voice. "Tell 
us, Candie! C'mon!" 

"Well. . .," the voluptuous dark-haired coed drawled, "I sure wouldn't want 
to offend anyone ..." 

Krista could feel the other girl's black eyes boring into her, but she 
refused to give her the satisfaction of looking up from the pink-tiled floor 
of the shower stall. 

"Well, okay," Candie giggled. "One of the guys had this movie ...," 

She paused for a tantalizing moment to whet their curiosity, feigning 
intense concentration on the task of soaping her large round breasts till 
they resembled snow-capped mounts rising proudly from the smooth golden 
plane of her suntanned belly. Krista averted her eyes. 

"Yesssss?" breathed Maryrose, and all the other girls, even those like 
Krista who pretended to be disinterested, perked up their ears. 

"Not a regular movie. . . one of those Swedish things, you know," Candie 
shrilled in an excited voice that belied her veneer of worldly 
sophistication. "I only saw a little bit of it, but it looked wild - I mean 
really wild!" 

"I saw one of those films once," Maryrose interrupted excitedly. "My cousin 
bought it in Europe, and he showed it to me. I almost died, I was so 
embarrassed!" She shivered dramatically, making her full breasts jounce like 
a topless go-go dancer's. "But I really couldn't tell what was supposed to 
be happening because it was so blurry." 

"Not this one!" Candie broke in. "You could see everything! And they've got 
lots more - some really kinky stuff, Phillip says. I think some of it even 
shocked him!" 

"I should hope so!" a petite blonde named Phyllis exclaimed. "It sounds 
absolutely disgusting!" 

Although Krista had always considered Phyllis a despicable goodie-goodie 
ever since she'd turned some girls in for skipping gym, she had to admit 
agreeing with her now. The very idea of Brian watching such filth - and 
probably imagining how he'd like to do those vile things with his girlfriend 
- gave Krista a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. How could Candie 
consider such vulgarity a joke? 

Candie tossed her dark curls disdainfully. "Don't be such a baby, Phyllis! 
It's a lotta fun . .. you'll see-" 

Her voice broke off abruptly as she remembered that the boys had made her 
promise not to tell the other girls what would be happening at the party for 
fear they'd refuse to come. 

"But wait till I tell you what happened last night!" The uninhibited 
brunette hastily changed the subject. "I was in bed with Phillip, and he was 
so horny I couldn't believe it - wanting to do all these crazy things, you 
know! And then ..." 

The other girls waited in fascination as Candie deliberately paused again, 
their nakedly glistening breasts jiggling softly beneath the cascading 
showers as their breath quickened. But Krista had had enough. Tearing her 
gaze from her ten involuntarily curling white toes, she snatched up her 
shampoo, soap and towel, and hurried out of the steaming shower room without 
even pausing to dry herself off. As she padded back to her room, the 
slapping sound of her bare wet feet on the cold tile corridor mingled with a 
faint peal of scornful feminine laughter. 

Later that night, the same cynical mocking laugh would come from the lips of 
the boy she loved . .. 

Even though five long months had passed since that never-to-be-forgotten 
Saturday night, Krista Morrisson could remember her emotions as vividly as 
though it had all happened last night. This episode had floated through her 
memory so often in the idle summer months that she knew she ought to begin 
to feel detached from it, to view it as an oft-reread book or one of those 
old films you see again and again on late night television. .. but she just 
couldn't. Her pain and sorrow were still as fresh as ever, and sometimes she 
feared that the wound might indeed never heal. 

Now, as she slumped on the couch in her darkened living room, the tortured 
young blonde felt her sensitive vaginal lips quivering in automatic reaction 
to her memories. This unwanted tingling sensation was the most horrible part 
of thinking about Brian Degraff.. .,deep inside, the young woman realized 
how sinful she really was whenever she felt these electrical fingers 
fluttering out to her nerve endings and the undeniable droplets of moisture 
dampening the crotchband of her panties. 

"Oh, God!" Krista groaned softly. "Not again! I don't want to think about 
it!" 

An image of the father she'd scarcely known passed before the guilty young 
girl's eyes, and she felt a surge of self-disgust. Am I that same sort of 
debased person? Did I inherit bad blood that made me sex-crazed? Is that why 
I can't control these evil thoughts? 

Krista poured another glass of wine, relishing the refreshing way it slid 
down her throat and soothed her jangled nerves. This is just the way I was 
feeling at that fraternity party, her thoughts drifted lazily. Before she 
knew what was happening to her, she'd slipped back into the past. 

Everyone had been slightly intoxicated from the afternoon's festivities, and 
by midnight the party had degenerated into a complete shambles. Even Krista 
had given up her initial attempts to keep Brian from downing too much 
alcohol and resisting having her own glass refilled again and again with the 
Southern Comfort she was drinking. He'd seemed so irritated by her 
cautioning words, accusing her of being a prissy old woman and a killjoy, 
that she'd not had the courage to argue. 

The last thing in the world she wanted to lose was his love. They'd known 
each other all then-lives, for their fathers had been good friends and 
they'd attended the same high school, but it wasn't until he was nineteen 
and she eighteen that he'd noticed his quiet blonde neighbor. Krista, on the 
other hand, had suffered from a severe crush on the handsome Degraff boy for 
as long as she could remember, and had longed to be one of the extroverted 
cheerleader types he'd dated in high school. Instead, she'd remained a thin, 
nondescript child until her senior year, when she'd suddenly blossomed into 
a lovely, outwardly poised young woman. When Brian returned from Europe, 
where he'd spent the year between high school and college, he'd noticed her 
at once, and they'd been going together ever since. The dark-haired law 
student was, in fact, the only male in whom Krista had taken a serious 
interest... the only one she'd allowed to kiss her. 

No, her entire world would collapse without Brian Degraff, and therefore she 
always tried to prevent arguments or other unpleasantness. There was, 
however, one point on which she stood firm - the matter of her virginity - 
so she was dismayed when, half-way through the second bottle, he began to 
harp on the sensitive subject. 

"Hell, Krista, you know I'm gonna marry you when I get through school," he 
slurred, trying unsuccessfully to plant a sloppy kiss on her unresponsive 
mouth. "So why wait just because of some crazy idea? That sort of shit died 
with Queen Victoria!" 

The blonde turned away to stare at the opposite corner of the room where 
Candie Loupe, her long black hair flailing wildly in all directions, was 
gyrating in a primitive, almost obscene rhythm to a top-volume Jimi Hendrix 
album. Since Brian had given her the same impatient arguments time and time 
before, she didn't have to pay attention to his words to know what he was 
saying. 

"You know how I feel, Brian," she sighed. "I could never respect myself 
again . .. and what would we do if I got pregnant?" 

"You could take the pill like everyone else does," the dark-haired law 
student tried once again to tug Krista toward him. "That's no problem!" 

Krista pulled saway, embarrassed by his attempt to embrace her in public. 

"Please, Brian! You know I don't like to make out in front of people. It's 
.. . it's sordid, vulgar - just like taking the pill!" 

"Oh, you're too much! Too fucking much!" the youth's handsome face clouded 
over in an angry scowl. "I don't think you really love me or you wouldn't 
drive me crazy like this. Jesus, don't you want to make love, too?" 

"Of course I love you, Brian," Krista avoided the last question. 

The truth of the matter was that, as far as she was concerned there was only 
the most tenuous connection between romantic love and the physical reality 
of going to bed with a man. Certainly, she felt warm and excited inside when 
he kissed her tenderly in private; she'd even felt an odd vibrating urgency 
deep in her belly and up between her legs when he stroked her breasts, but 
she'd repressed the sensation, pleasant though it was because it seemed 
alarmingly wicked. Yet these tendrils of arousal vanished the moment she 
thought of the pain and shame of having her boyfriend actually enter her 
most private feminine flesh with his enormous penis. He'd sometimes made her 
stroke his throbbing male hardness through his jeans, and she knew it was 
far too large to ever fit inside her vagina, but she was much too ashamed to 
discuss her fears with the man she hoped to marry. 

"If you really love me then prove it!" Brian challenged, clumsily refilling 
their glasses with the last of the Southern Comfort. "Lovers have to make 
love - it's only common sense!" 

"I don't want any more," Krista shoved the overflowing glass away. 

Maybe he's right... she thought, shaking her head to clear away the whirling 
alcoholic clouds inside her brain. I know lots of the girls at school sleep 
with their steady boyfriends. But I can't do something I know is wrong. . . 
something dirty and degrading that'll start our marriage out in a cheap way. 

A shudder wracked the intoxicated young blonde's slender figure as she saw a 
mental picture of herself lying naked on a bed in a cheap hotel room, just 
like a common slut, or perhaps sprawled in the back seat of Brian's dark 
green Mustang with her skirt and slip bunched up around her waist and the 
windows clouded over with steam. No, she could never submit to such 
humiliation... 

"You don't wanna drink, you don't wanna screw - what the hell do you wanna 
do?" Brian was growing belligerent as the alcohol heated his blood for he 
was feeling even more aroused than usual after last night's lewd performance 
by Candie Loupe. "Look at Candie - she knows how to have a good time ... and 
how to make a guy happy!" 

"I've heard all about what Candie did," Krista's voice was low and calm but 
terse with barely controlled anger, "and I don't want to hear another word. 
I was never so shocked in my life!" 

"Okay, okay, forget it," Brian sounded as though he regretted having 
mentioned the raven-haired brunette. He stared moodily at his almost empty 
glass, drained it, then glanced surreptitiously toward the end of the beg 
room where Candie, surrounded by an eagerly clapping crowd, had kicked off 
her shoes and climbed on top of a low coffee table to continue her pagan 
dance. 

"Listen, I need a refill," he gestured toward the empty Southern Comfort 
bottle. "I'll be back in a minute, okay?" 

Something about the way Brian's brooding eyes slid over Candie's 
voluptuously displayed loins made Krista feel dizzy and sick. So that was 
the way he wanted her to act! 

"I'm . . . I'm going to the washroom," she told Brian, feeling more 
miserable than ever when he nodded absently as though he'd not even heard 
her. 

There was a long line outside the fraternity house toilet, and the 
intoxicated coed began to feel so ill that she had to lean her head against 
the wall. What am I going to do? A voice inside her mind screamed so loudly 
that she didn't even hear the raucous jokes and laughter of the people 
around her. I can't be the sort of girl Brian wants... but if I'm not, I'm 
going to lose him to someone like Candie. . . I can't avoid the problem much 
longer. 

Krista stayed in the welcome privacy of the washroom for as long as 
possible, holding a towel soaked in cold water against her burning forehead, 
but soon someone began banging on the door and she made her way out into the 
hallway, still feeling giddy. From downstairs, she could hear the party 
growing more rowdy than ever, and she suddenly decided that it was time for 
her to go back to the dormitory. 

"Take it off! Take it all off!" she heard a drunken masculine voice shout as 
she headed for the bedroom where the coats were kept, and a shudder ran 
through her innocent body. Then as she pushed open the door and saw what was 
going on inside, she felt her blood turn to ice. 

There, on the big bed, right on top of everyone's coats, lay Maryrose 
Milford, as naked as she'd been in the shower earlier that evening, and 
above her loomed an equally naked male. Krista didn't recognize him in the 
dim light, but she was sure it wasn't Frank, the girl's steady boyfriend, 
because it was he who'd gone into the bathroom after her. No, her brazen 
classmate was doing something with a stranger, something so unspeakably 
nasty that the watching blonde felt as though she were going to faint. 

The girl had taken the boy's huge penis in her mouth! 

Obscene slurping noises, mingled with shameless mewls and moans, issued in a 
steady stream from Maryrose's cock-impaled lips, and Krista thought that 
she'd never heard a more repulsive sound. It was actually too dark to see 
exactly what was transpiring, and in any case the man's taut-muscled 
buttocks obstructed her view, but the blonde's imagination filled in the 
missing details. 

What does it feel like to have a cock in your mouth? her mind whirled 
wildly. How does it taste? It must be horrible - but Maryrose seems to like 
it from the sounds she's making. I always thought she was a slut... 

Yet, despite her revulsion, the naive college, girl felt a strange quivering 
sensation down between her trembling legs. The unwanted fingers of 
excitement flickered up into her churning belly and breasts, and she 
suddenly felt as though her brassiere was too tight as its lace cups rubbed 
against her tautening nipples. Shocked and humiliated by her traitorous 
body's reaction, she turned quickly away from the salacious spectacle and 
shakily made her way downstairs. 

It had seemed only the briefest second that she'd stood before the half-open 
door, but when Krista reached the fraternity house recreation room and saw 
how drastically the mood had changed, she realized with a guilty start that 
it must have been longer. The blaring hard rock music had been replaced by a 
soft, romantic album of oldies-but-goodies, and Candie had ceased her wanton 
dance to curl up in Phillip's lap, her short black lace bikini panties. The 
other couples who remained were similarly entwined on couches around the 
darkened room, all of them eagerly staring toward the end of the room where 
Brian and another fraternity brother were setting up a small movie 
projector. 

Recalling Candie Loupe's shower room conversation, Krista knew at once what 
was going on. What was happening to everyone? her thoughts ran wildly. She'd 
known this crowd of people all through college, and they'd never done 
anything like this. A lot of drinking, some off-color jokes, a little 
necking, probably some lovemaking in private ... that was all she'd ever 
seen happen until tonight. Was it because this was their last spring here at 
college - or had Brian perhaps just not taken her to the more debauched 
parties? 

Everyone was too absorbed in their drunken sexuality to pay any attention to 
Krista as she stood frozen in the doorway, watching her boyfriend fiddle 
with the focus on the rented projector. Even Brian didn't notice her silent 
presence or he surely would have changed the subject of his conversation. 

"Ya seen this one before?" the other boy was asking. "It's outtasight, man! 
Got a chick in it who looks a lot like Krista - except that I can't imagine 
your girl doin' stuff like this!" 

Brian bristled defensively, for in some oblique way he considered his girl 
friend's sexual irresponsiveness to be a slur against his own masculinity. 

"Ya don't know what you're talkin' about, man!" he said in a loud voice that 
echoed throughout the entire room. "Krista's a hot little piece if you know 
how to get her turned on!" 

"Is that so?" Candie giggled from across the room. "I always wondered if her 
prissy act was for real!" 

"She's really a good lay?" the boy beside Brian asked curiously. "Christ, 
and here I always though that great body of hers was going to waste!" 

"No way, man!" Brian jabbed at the focus of the projector so fiercely that 
the plastic attachment broke in his hand. 

"Hey, look what you've done, you asshole!" called Phillip. "Now you've 
broken the fucking thing, and we can't have a show!" 

"I'll fix it, man... I'll fix the goddamn thing," Brian began, but then his 
words trailed off as he saw Krista striding angrily toward him. 

"You're a liar!" she hissed through clenched teeth, too angry to car about 
the others in the room. "How could you say that about me? Take me home right 
now, Brian!" 

The handsome law student blushed a furious shade of red and lowered his eyes 
to avoid the preying glances of his fraternity brothers. An angry scowl 
crept over his features, and when he spoke, his voice was harsh, almost 
vicious. 

"Don't you tell me what to do, woman!" he growled. "I'll show you who's a 
liar!" 

"Don't touch me!" Krista shrieked as her enraged boyfriend lunged toward 
her. 

But there was no stopping the lust- and alcohol-maddened college man. His 
pride and reputation among his fraternity brothers were being threatened, 
and suddenly he had simply had enough of his girl friend's prudish behavior. 

At this point, Krista's memory of the evening clouded over with a protective 
blackness. Somehow, she remembered, she'd been physically forced up into one 
of the bedrooms and thrown down on a narrow, unmade bed - next morning, 
there'd been ugly bruises on her legs and finger marks branded on the tender 
flesh of her arms where Brian's angry hands had gripped her. But after he'd 
begun yanking off her clothes, the memory once again became horrifyingly 
clear. 

"You bitch! I'll show you!" he'd snarled above her as he recklessly tore off 
her blue cotton shirtwaist, scattering buttons right and left. "You've been 
making a fool of me long enough, you goddamn little cock-tease!" 

"Brian! Stop it!" Krista wailed in terror-stricken anguish. "What's the 
matter with you?" 

"Nothing's the matter with me that a good fuck won't cure," he growled, 
pushing her down on her back so hard that she lost her breath. "I'm just 
doin' what I should've done a hell of a long time ago!" 

"Noooo!" Krista wailed. "You're acting crazy! Let me out of here!" 

She again struggled to rise while his hands were busy fumbling with his 
jeans, but before she could scramble to her feet, he'd worked his Levi's 
down over his long legs and freed his thickly swollen cock. At the sight of 
the huge angry-red cudgel, the inexperienced blonde virgin's eyes widened in 
horror and her blood turned to ice in her veins. 

"You can't!" she gasped. "You can't rape me! No, Brian, NO! It's too ugly 
like this! Pleezzzee! Another time, I promise ... but NOT LIKE THIS!" 

The sex-starved male was totally unmoved by his girl friend's piteous pleas. 

"I'm sick of waiting, you bitch!" he cursed. "I don't want your goddamn 
promises - I want some action!" 

Suddenly he was kneeling on top of her, his rough hands tearing off her 
brassiere and ripping her little white panties into two ragged pieces so 
that her body was completely exposed to his hungry leer. At the sound of her 
last shred of protection being so brutally removed from her helpless body, 
the naive young virgin's eyes were blinded by hot tears. Her vulnerable sobs 
aroused a chord of sympathy in the alcohol-crazed youth, for the hands which 
grasped her sensitive breasts were a bit more gentle than before, but by now 
Krista was too upset to appreciate the subtle difference. 

"No, no, nooo!" she chanted through her sobs. "No, pleeazzee, nooo!" 

"Sssshh," the lust-frenzied male whispered, mashing his mouth against her 
reluctant lips and forcing his eager tongue between her teeth. "I'm sorry I 
treated you so rough, baby, but I just gotta fuck you now. It won't hurt - 
I'll be real careful." 

Krista tried to protest, but it was impossible to speak with his hot wet 
tongue thrusting halfway down her throat. His whiskey- and cigarette-tainted 
breath mingled with the room's dirty sock odor, symbolizing the ugliness of 
the situation for her, and Krista's body went rigid in despair as she 
realized that there was no escape from this debased humiliation. All her 
girlhood dreams of a romantic wedding night with a kind and tender husband 
carefully removing her white lace nightgown in some luxurious bridal suite 
were crashing down around her head, and she felt so much sorrow at their 
loss that for the moment her physical fears were drowned out. 

Taking Krista's silence and cessation of struggle as a sign of acquiescence, 
the passion-fired college man dropped the full weight of his muscular loins 
down upon the tearful blonde's satin-smooth flesh, pressing her so hard 
against the stained and crumpled sheets that she thought her lungs were 
being crushed. The buttons on his oxford-style shirt - which he'd not 
bothered to remove in his haste to possess the girl who had denied him for 
so long - dug into her painfully flattened breasts, sending hot arrows of 
discomfort shooting out to every nerve-ending in her helplessly impaled 
body. 

"Oooohhh!" she gasped weakly as his lust-driven hands began rummaging 
roughly between their tight-pressed flesh. "Ooohh, nooo!" 

As though he'd not even heard his girl friend's feeble wail, Brian Degraff 
tangled his fingers in the sparse baby-fine hairs of her pubic mound then 
shot his long middle finger straight downward to rub against the hotly 
quivering flesh of her never-before-touched vaginal slit. Without thought of 
fear or injury, he pistoned his stiffened linger up and down along the 
innocent virgin's cringing cuntal crevice until he located the tiny orifice 
he was seeking. 

"Christ, baby, you're so fucking tight," his alcohol-blurred voice mumbled 
into the heated cavern of Krista's mouth. "I never felt anything so good!" 

Never in her entire life would the curvaceous blonde schoolteacher forget 
the searing pain which had surged through her as Brian's insensitive middle 
finger rammed up into her unprepared vaginal passage. Her body stiffened and 
jerked as though she'd been electrocuted, and a dizzying wave of blackness 
temporarily blinded her as she involuntarily clamped her trembling thighs 
together to stop the assault. Instead of expelling the invading hand, 
however, her vain effort only succeeded in compounding her humiliating 
vulnerability; the tighter she pressed, the more deeply his finger delved 
into her fire-filled pussy. 

Just as she was feeling as though she would die - or at the very least faint 
- form the torturous pain of Brian's defiling finger, a peculiar sensation 
began developing in the pit of the abused virgin's churning belly. Knives of 
red-hot agony continued to stab through her obscenely sprawled body, but 
gradually a strange sort of unwanted excitement was blending with the pain, 
a sensation rather like the illicit thrill she's sometimes experienced when 
her boyfriend fondled her breasts - but much more intense. 

Oh, God, what's happening to me? her intoxicated mind whirled. I can't LIKE 
this - I must be so drunk I'm going crazy! 

In her panic at the threatened betrayal of her flesh, Krista renewed her 
futile struggles. Maybe she couldn't hope to escape from the 
athletically-built youth, but at least she could retain a bit of pride and 
self-respect. Furiously, desperately, her long legs kicked and squirmed 
beneath Brian's heavily pressing loins, and a stream of shrill, incoherent 
protests issued from her mouth as she tore her bruised lips away from him. 

"Oooohh, noo! Stop it! Nooo!" 

Her screams were so penetrating that Brian felt certain they were audible to 
everyone else in the thin-walled fraternity house, and this knowledge fired 
his sadistic passion to even greater intensity. 

"Uuunngghh," the tortured blonde wailed again as her boyfriend's jabbing 
finger popped from her burning vagina with a lewd sluicing sound, leaving 
her feeling strangely empty in spite of her extreme relief. 

Maybe he's come to his senses at last, she thought, struggling to rise from 
the crumpled bed. I have to get out of here before he turns into an animal 
again! 

But the moment the frightened blonde virgin scrambled to a sitting position, 
her hopes of escape were rudely dashed. Brian's cruel fingers gripped the 
tender flesh of her breasts, pinning her back down against the mattress, and 
his strong knees wrenched between her helplessly thrashing legs so that her 
pussy was spread wide open to attack. Eyes glazed with horror, Krista gaped 
at the huge cudgel of male flesh waiting only inches away from her fearfully 
cringing vagina. 

"Noooo!" she shrieked again. "It's too biggg! It'll kill me! Stop it, you 
dirty animal!" 

The lust-demented law student paid absolutely no attention to his girl 
friend's piteous cries. Growling low in his throat like the animal she'd 
accused him of being, he flicked his powerful hips forward and rammed his 
angry-red penis hard against the tightly resisting orifice of her virginal 
pussy. 

Until this evening, the innocent girl had never seen a man's erect penis, 
much less felt one, and even through humiliated despair, she felt a twinge 
of surprise at its heated rubbery texture and the unexpected way the 
smooth-skinned cock-head pulsated against her tender flesh as though with a 
life of its own. Then as Brian lurched forward again, everything faded from 
her mind but wave after wave of blinding pain. 

"Aaarrgghh!" he bellowed in the tone of a conquering caveman. "Gonna fuck ya 
- fuck ya good!" 

Although Krista tried with all her might to clench her vaginal muscles 
together and prevent the defiling penetration of her long-guarded vagina, it 
was a wasted effort which only succeeded in heightening her anguish. His 
blunt-nosed cock-head shoved insistently against her tiny cuntal orifice 
until at last she gave way beneath the brutal pressure and allowed his 
blood-engorged hardness to spear several inches up into the weeping blonde's 
fear-quivering cuntal channel. 

I tried to stop him - I did try! the overwrought schoolteacher told herself 
as the scene now replayed itself before her tortured eyes many months later. 
And I did think I loved him! If only he'd been kind and gentle, I wouldn't 
still be thinking about how his penis ached and burned inside me. I wouldn't 
have this fear.. . 

The drunken college boy had pushed with all his might into her cringing 
vagina, ignoring her piteous wails of pain. She would never forget the 
shattering fire that pierced every cell in her cruelly impaled loins as his 
rampaging penis ripped through the thin membrane of her maidenhood, nor the 
shame which had been almost more unbearable than the pain. 

For several minutes he'd pounded his thick virility into her, slamming all 
the way to her sensitive cervix and pulling her sensitive inner flesh out 
again as he withdrew. Before she'd even begun to grow accustomed to the huge 
object throbbing inside her inexperienced vagina, she'd been startled to 
feel hot liquid splashing against the burning passage. 

"Oh, no! No! It was so ugly!" she muttered to herself now, feeling the 
remembered sensation so vividly that, without thinking, she dropped her hand 
between her trembling thighs to see if she could feel the same horrible 
sticky moisture. As her fingers grazed her vaginal slit, a powerful jolt of 
excitement shot through her loins, and the shame-filled teacher quickly 
jerked her hand away. 

Her boyfriend's spent penis had slipped from her ravished cunt with a lewd 
wet sucking sound which still echoed in her dreams after all this time. 
She'd risen shakily from the strange bed when he was finished, clutching for 
her clothes without even looking at him, hot tears pricking behind her 
eyelids. 

"You're the most horrible monster I ever met," she'd said as she edged 
toward the door, still fastening her clothing. "I never, never want to see 
you again!" Ripping her fraternity pin from its place of honor above one 
proudly lifted breast, she'd flung it across the room at him. 

"What makes you think I'd ever want to see you, either?" his face had 
hardened into the well-remembered sneer of dislike. "You're about as much 
use in bed as a five-buck whore - just lying there like a sack of potatoes. 
No, you're worse, cause you gotta moan and cry about it." 

Unable to bear another word, the weeping coed had run from the room, his 
last insults echoing after him as she fled down the hallway. 

"I'm gonna find me a real woman who knows something about loving," he'd 
shouted so loud that surely the other people in the fraternity house must 
have heard him. "Good-bye and good luck, you cold bitch!" 

"Cold bitch... cold bitch..." Krista murmured unhappily to the four walls of 
her tiny apartment. "Am I?" 

Rising shakily to her feet, she headed for her lonely bed, her lovely face a 
mask of desolation and longing. 

Chapter Three 

"All right, class," Krista smiled at the room full of eight grade boys and 
girls who were busily washing pots and pans and tidying the cooking room 
after their first lesson in Mexican cooking. "You handled those tortillas 
just fine! If you keep going this way, we'll be ready for that barbeque I 
promised you by next weekend." 

The class broke into loud cheers, their shrill young voices almost drowning 
out the blaring bell which indicated the end of the class period. As they 
streamed out of the large room, waving and grinning at their pretty young 
teacher as they hurried to the cafeteria, she felt a justified pang of 
pride. Despite Principal Harding's doubts, the coed Home-Ec classes had 
worked out better than even Krista herself had expected. After a day or two 
of rowdy jokes every time they looked at one another seated at a sewing 
machine or standing behind a stove, the boys had begun to show more 
enthusiasm than the girls. 

The secret is to let them learn while they're doing something they enjoy 
doing, the attractive schoolteacher told herself as she fastened her golden 
hair more securely at the nape of her neck and smoothed down her plaid 
skirt. Of course thirteen year olds don't want to sew aprons and potholders 
- they'd rather learn American Indian crafts and sew costumes for the school 
musical. And the eight graders certainly can't complain if we learn to cook 
things that are good to eat and have parties. 

"Gee, Miss Morrisson," Phillip Larsen, a thin blond eight-grader with 
adoring Cocker Spaniel eyes, had said to her just this morning. "My sister 
took Home-Ec from old Miss Conoway three years ago and all she learned to 
cook was cream sauce and tapioca pudding. But we're making real food!" 

Krista smiled at the memory as she locked her desk and headed out into the 
corridor in the direction of the faculty lunchroom, but her contented 
expression faded when the boys' washroom door was flung open and two tall, 
well-built adolescents came sauntering straight toward her. Both youths were 
students in her afternoon ninth grade Home-Economics class, and in the two 
weeks she'd been teaching at Franklin Junior High she'd learned to dread the 
very sight of them and their little band of unruly friends. Lewd smirks lit 
their handsome faces as they moved toward her, their eyes boring through her 
short plaid skirt and tight turtleneck pullover so that she felt completely 
naked, but she managed to force her mouth into a cool and confident smile 
which she hoped betrayed none of her inner turmoil. 

"Good afternoon, Robbie," she said in a carefully modulated neutral tone as 
she came face to face with the two good-looking youths. "Good afternoon, 
Charlie." 

Neither boy moved or spoke. They remained standing directly in front of her, 
thumbs hooked in the wide leather belts of their low-slung Levi's, 
scrutinizing her with their brazen eyes until Krista felt her cheeks flaming 
in spite of her valiant efforts to keep calm. From the smell of tobacco that 
clung to their clothing, she surmised that they'd been smoking forbidden 
cigarettes in the washroom, but she felt so disconcerted by their 
disrespectful behavior that she hesitated to say anything about it. 

"Christ, Charlie, it's our sex teacher!" Robbie Blair, the dark-haired 
instigator of much of the trouble in room 901, exclaimed in a tone of mock 
surprise. "She looked so sexy I didn't recognize her!" 

Suddenly Krista had taken as much as she could stand of the boys' rudeness. 
What business of theirs was it what she wore? How dare they speak to her 
this way! 

"Maybe you don't recognize me, Robbie," she snapped, "but I recognize you. 
And I also see that you've been disobeying the school rules again by smoking 
cigarettes. I ought to report you to Principal Harding!" 

"Oh yeah?" Robbie's deep brown eyes were far more cynical than any fourteen 
year old's Krista had ever seen before. "So how come you're not gonna?" 

He says that as if he knows exactly why I can't bear talking to Preston 
Harding! the astonished teacher thought, as if he knows how that dirty old 
man upsets me by staring at my breasts and legs with those beady eyes of 
his. . . 

"This is your first warning," she said crisply, surprised at the firmness of 
her own voice. "Next time I catch you at it, it's straight down to the 
principal's office with you. I mean it, boys!" 

"Prissy Preston!" the dark-haired youth sneered. "I'm terrified, aren't you, 
Charlie?" "Sure thing, Robbie!" the other echoed, Krista stared intently at 
the two young teenagers. Their muscular bodies were incased in skin-tight 
bell-bottom Levi's and black T-shirts emblazoned with hand-drawn psychedelic 
designs, and their neatly combed dark hair hung a scant centimeter longer 
than school regulations permitted. Identical sneers graced their smooth 
young faces, but whereas Charlie's hazel eyes were wide with admiration for 
his friend's boldness, Robbie's brooding brown eyes reflected bitterness and 
a strange, indescribable expression which so unnerved their pretty teacher 
that she turned and started to brush past the boys. 

As she hastened down the silent corridor toward the faculty lunchroom, she 
could feel the youths' gazes boring into her back, hear their derisive 
snorts of laughter. Although the curvaceous blonde tried to hold her body 
stiff and straight as a ramrod, her acute awareness of the swaying 
undulation of her hips and buttocks beneath her short plaid kilt sent an 
involuntary blush creeping up over her cheeks. 

I won't look back at them, she vowed, gritting her teeth and clutching her 
pocketbook so fiercely her knuckles turned white. I won't give them that 
satisfaction! 

Yet as she rounded the corner, her head, driven by some inexplicable force, 
swung around to glance at the two youngsters. Even from this distance, the 
intensity of the Blair boy's fervent gaze disturbed her, and as Krista 
entered the pushed through the door marked "faculty only", she realized her 
knees were shaking like the yellowing leaves on the tall elm outside the 
window. 

The small lounge was crowded and thick with smoke as almost every teacher in 
Franklin Junior High lit up the cigarettes they were unable to smoke during 
class periods. After taking her plate of fish sticks, instant mashed 
potatoes, and weeping cherry jello, Krista's dark eyes roved worriedly 
around the four tables searching for an empty seat. At Principal Harding's 
table - he sat in the same place each day, surrounded by a few of the older 
faculty members with whom he seemed to have established a rapport of sorts, 
his dowdy secretary, and several other unfortunate latecomers - there were 
two free chairs, but today the young blonde just didn't feel equal to 
Preston's piercing eyes glued to her breasts as she choked down her lunch. 

Luckily, the seat at the far table beside Rex Simmons, the shop teacher, was 
also empty. Although she found the sandy-haired man's clean-cut 
self-confidence and inane male chauvinist jokes about the "gals" in his 
classes almost as appetite-suppressing as the principal's lewd stares, it 
seemed the less objectionable of the two alternatives. 

"Well, hello there, stranger," Simmons grinned at Krista over a heaping 
spoonful of mashed potatoes. "Long time no see . . . " 

The shapely blonde flinched as the man's booming voice resounded across the 
long table. It was true she'd been avoiding any confrontation with her 
burly, freckle-faced co-worker since she'd turned down his invitation to 
accompany him on a "night out in Toledo", but there was no reason why 
everyone else need know this. Through the corner of her eye, she saw the 
spinsterish geography instructor, Belinda Blanche, raise her straggly 
eyebrows toward the two girls' gym teachers. 

"So much work..." Krista murmured unconvincingly, taking a cautious forkful 
of her tepid fish sticks. 

The tasteless food stuck in her throat like thick cotton wool, but Krista 
chewed resolutely until the curious glances of the other teachers had 
refocused upon their lunch trays and their conversation had resumed. Only 
Rex Simmons' intent gaze remained cemented to her body, his eyes drilling 
through her form-fitting sweater in a most disconcerting way. 

"How's it going, Kris?" Rex leaned so close to the embarrassed blonde that 
she could smell his aftershave lotion. He wore English Leather, a scent she 
particularly loathed. 

"Just fine, Mr. Simmons." 

The blonde's voice was deliberately cool and non-committal, for although the 
shop teacher seemed a perfectly nice man - though not especially intelligent 
or sensitive - she had absolutely no desire to get involved in a personal 
relationship with any male just now. Still, it was nice to have someone to 
talk to during lunch rather than spending the hour chewing and smoking in 
stoic silence as she normally did, so she made an effort to continue the 
conversation. 

"And how are your classes going?" she inquired politely, abandoning her fish 
as inedible and picking up her carton of milk instead. "Making progress with 
the girls?" In their last conversation, he'd complained that they were 
afraid to hammer a nail. 

"Matter of fact, I am," the sandy-haired teacher grinned. "Maybe you womens' 
libbers haven't got it all wrong after all. I gotta admit there's not nearly 
so much horsing around now the gals are there." 

It made Krista feel better to hear him say that, even though he was staring 
at her lips sucking her straw in a way that brought back repugnant memories 
of the shameful act she'd observed Maryrose Milford performing at the 
long-ago fraternity party. Perhaps, she reflected, suppressing the lurid 
images inside her head, Mr. Simmons might have some suggestions about 
handling those awful boys in room 901. . . especially Robbie Blair. 

Trying her best to ignore the spark of obvious interest in the husky man's 
pale blue eyes, she turned to face him. 

"Mr. Simmons, I wonder ..." 

"Rex, please!" 

"All right, Rex," Krista relented. "I wonder if you ... I mean, I've been 
having some difficulties with the ninth grade boys, and .. . well, do you 
know Robbie Blair?" 

"You bet I do - the spoiled brat! Everyone knows that Blair kid, ever since 
he got expelled the first week of seventh grade for setting off a bomb 
scare. They had to let him back in school 'cause his old man's got a lot of 
pull with Superintendent Andersen, but we'd all have been better off if he'd 
been shipped off to military school then and there!" 

"He's such a strange child," Krista mused, a vivid image of the youth's 
handsome but sneering face flashing before her mind's eye. "His eyes look so 
sad . . . and I really don't think he's as unintelligent as he pretends to 
be." 

"Well, I don't know about that. Far as I'm concerned, the kid's a 
natural-born hell-raiser, but from what I hear about his family there's 
reason enough for him to be messed up. Old man's some kind of wheeler-dealer 
type who's never at home, and Rhoda Blairs earned herself a reputation you 
can smell a mile away with her goings on while her husband's out of town. I 
could tell you some stories about her, all right," he paused, glancing 
around the table, "but let's save them until we've got some privacy. 

Krista squirmed uneasily on the edge of her folding chair and lit a Camel. 
Please don't let him ask me for another date! she pleaded silently. How can 
I make him understand for once and for all that I'm just NOT INTERESTED! 

"The poor boy ..." she said aloud. 

"Got an older sister who takes after the mother," Rex continued. "Out 
drinking and screwing every night from the time she was fourteen till she 
finally got knocked up at sixteen. Went to Chicago to get rid of it, and 
never came back. They say she's got some job, but your guess is as good as 
mine as to what sort of work she's doing. Nope, the Blairs aren't exactly 
the American Dream, even though they've got money coming out of their ears!" 

Such strong pangs of pity washed over Krista Morrisson that they drowned her 
dislike for the fawning man beside her. No wonder the boy's such a 
troublemaker, she thought. What else could you expect with a home background 
like that? It's exactly what we learned in college - behind every behaviour 
and learning difficulty there lies an emotional problem, and it's a 
teacher's duty to help resolve her pupils' conflicts. It's about time 
someone took an interest in Robbie! 

Rex glanced down at his wrist watch and downed the rest of his Coke. "Gee, 
it's been nice talking to you, Kris," he said in a low, significant voice. 
"We ought to get together more often!" 

Still absorbed in her concern for her handsome fourteen year old student, 
the attractive young blonde nodded absently, not really concentrating on 
what Simmons was saying. 

"How about tomorrow night - Saturday," he continued, grinning from ear to 
ear. At last the standoffish Home-Ec teacher seemed to be responding to his 
advances! "We could catch the new flick in Pottawattamie hills - it's 
something by Sam Peckimpah, or else go into the big city if you want some 
more action. What'ya say, Kris?" 

Krista's honey-gold head snapped upright, her eyes widening in alarm as she 
murmured, "I-I'm so s-sorry . . . but I have . . . other plans." 

"Another time, then?" Simmons sounded puzzled, disappointed. 

The good-looking extrovert had never had trouble getting dates before, and 
since as far as he knew Krista didn't have another boyfriend, he couldn't 
understand why she seemed so disturbed over the prospect of going out with 
him. Why should a sexy chick like that want to sit home alone nights when 
they could be having a good time together instead? It just didn't make 
sense! 

"How 'bout next weekend?" he persisted. "Maybe we could drive down to 
Circleville, where they've got this Pumpkin Show. Pumpkin-burgers . . . the 
whole bit. . . should be good for a few laughs." 

To the nervous blonde's vast relief, the piercing bell signaling the end of 
the lunch hour chimed just at that moment. Quickly jamming her cigarettes 
and lighter into her purse, she stepped to her feet and smiled stiffly down 
at the tall red-haired man without looking him in the eye. 

"M-maybe," she stammered in a most unenthusiastic manner. "So much work ..." 

Rex shook his head as he watched the fair-haired woman hurrying back toward 
her classroom. 

"I don't get it," he mumbled under his breath. "I don't fucking understand 
that chick!" 

Krista stayed at Franklin Junior High for an hour or so after classes ended 
that Friday afternoon, typing desperate letters to the film departments of 
the state universities pleading for sex education movies explaining the act 
of intercourse. Already having requested such material from the state 
library and having received only the weary old Walt Disney effort on 
menstruation and an even more imsipid film on the same subject produced by 
some new tampon company, she was now in a real panic. In the first two weeks 
she'd instructed the class in the changes that occur in an adolescent's 
body, stretching out this relatively inoffensive subject as long as humanly 
possible, but even if she could divert the students for another week or so 
on the history of birth control methods, the time was fast approaching when 
she would be forced to mention the connubial relations between man and wife. 

"And I simply can't stand up there in front of those awful boys and tell 
them how a man puts his erect penis inside a woman's vagina - I can't!" the 
troubled young blonde murmured to herself as she sealed the last envelope. 
"At least if I can show a movie, it'll be too dark for them to stare at me 
in that disgusting way." 

A faraway look gleamed in her amber eyes as Krista remembered the rude 
stares Robbie Blair had lavished on her tight sweater all during today's 
class period. They'd merely been discussing the subject of nutrition for 
growing young people, a relatively innocuous topic which was all she felt 
she could handle by the end of the week, but his piercing eyes and crude 
comments had managed to completely disrupt the class. 

"If Katie Morgan eats the same vitamins and proteins as you do, Miss 
Morrisson," he'd inquired after she'd explained the method for computing how 
many of each nutrient an individual's body required, based on height, 
weight, and age, "will she have tits as big as yours?" 

It had been a cruel jibe, for Katie Morgan's chest was flat as a washboard 
and she was a shy, sensitive little girl who acted younger than her fourteen 
years. Although Krista had been angry, at the same time a disconcerting 
tingling in her own breasts had diverted her indignation. Also, she was 
still feeling sympathetic toward the unhappy boy after her conversation with 
Rex Simmons during lunch. 

"The correct word is breasts, not tits," she'd reprimanded less harshly than 
Robbie's malicious comment deserved. "And apparently you've not understood 
what I've been explaining for the past forty minutes. Katie is smaller and 
younger than I am, so of course her vitamin requirements are somewhat 
different. Perhaps we shall have to go over this lesson again on Monday." 

At least that would prevent commencing on a more embarrassing topic . .. 

"Hey teach!" Charlie, Robbie's sidekick, had called out, "when do we get 
into the hardcore stuff, huh?" 

As Krista's thoughts ran back over that disastrous class period, she 
collapsed on the desk with her throbbing head buried in her hands. I can't 
bear to think about it any longer, her troubled mind groaned. Now it's the 
weekend, and I'm only going to think of pleasant things for the next two 
days. 

But what pleasant things? Her lonely, shabby little flat out in Country Club 
Hills subdivision where the neighbors were all involved in a tight little 
clique of newly-marrieds and young parents. She'd been invited to one 
backyard barbecue out of politeness, but finding nothing to contribute to 
the conversations about morning sickness and the obstinate nature of two 
year olds, had refused the second invitation. She'd never been asked to join 
them again . .. 

Well, I really ought to write to Mother, Krista thought rather desolately as 
she gathered up her pile of envelopes and left the classroom. And my college 
girlfriends, too. .. 

But what did her former classmates know or care of her present life? When 
they wrote bright little notes on their pastel stationery, they chirped 
about weddings and babies and engagement diamonds. Surely they couldn't care 
less about Krista's problems with homeroom 901, nor about the bitter ache 
which still burned inside her at the thought of her former fiance, Brian 
Degraff. No, those young women inhabited another world . .. 

On the way home, the curvaceous teacher stopped at the drugstore to buy a 
bottle of aspirins to cure the headache that had begun to pound behind her 
temples. 

After purchasing her giant-size bottle of aspirin, Krista lingered for a few 
moments before the magazine rack. She extracted the lone edition of 
Scientific American from the piles of glossy mens' magazines, confession 
magazines, and Good Housekeeping, and was just starting to skim through an 
interesting articie on vitamin deficiencies in American schoolchildren when 
her eyes caught sight of a tall, arrogant youth sauntering through the 
drugstore doorway. Suddenly, her knees began shaking like a schoolgirl's. 

Krista's first impulse was to drop the magazine and sidle into the phone 
booth before Robbie Blair saw her, but in a split second she changed her 
mind. Hadn't she promised herself to help the boy before he turned into a 
full-fledged juvenile delinquent? And anyway, she'd never before spoken to 
him alone; perhaps, out of the company of his admiring companions, he would 
be less defensive, less unapproachable. 

"Hello, Robbie," she greeted the handsome youth in a firm, cheerful voice. 

The sullen teenager tossed his long hair back from his forehead and fixed 
his large dark eyes upon his teacher, sending an involuntary shiver 
flickering along her spine. Goodness! she marveled, he really is a beautiful 
young man - he's built like those Greek statues that are supposed to show 
the perfect human form! Yes, I MUST do my best to help him! 

"Hi," Robbie muttered at last, then moved toward the prescription medicine 
counter at the other end of the pharmacy. 

From that one terse word, Krista realized that the instinctive voice which 
had told her he'd be different away from his gang had been entirely correct. 
He'd not gone so far as to smile at her, but at least he'd not sneered .. . 
and his tone had been almost shy. Keeping his slim figure in sight through 
the corner of her eye, she continued to leaf through Scientific American. 

Just as she'd hoped, the good-looking teenager strolled over toward the 
magazine rack to thumb through the new editions of Playboy and Penthouse. 
Embarrassed by the wanton pictures, Krista turned to stare at the package in 
his other hand, a large bottle of diet-tranquilizer pills about which she 
had just read a most alarming article. 

Oh God! her mind whirled. Is Robbie in as bad shape as that? Is he one of 
those kids who've gotten themselves hooked on 'downers'? It's my duty to at 
least warn him of the danger, to make sure the poor boy doesn't turn into a 
drug addict. 

Screwing up her courage, the twenty-three year old schoolteacher looked 
directly into the fourteen year old's face. Although she was not a short 
woman at five foot six, she had to tilt her chin slightly to stare into 
Robbie's fathomless brown eyes, and again she felt her knees grow weak from 
the intensity of his gaze. 

"How about a ride home, Robbie?" she inquired in a deliberately casual tone. 
"I've got my car just outside, and it looks like rain." Indeed, the bright 
blue skies of the lingering midwestern summer had faded, just since 
yesterday, to the threatening grey of oncoming winter. 

Robbie hesitated for a second, then shrugged his shoulders. "Sure, why not?" 
he agreed. 

They paid for their magazines, the young boy breaking a fifty dollar bill to 
pay for his October Penthouse. 

How could his parents be stupid enough to supply a child of his age with 
that kind of money? Krista asked herself. Perhaps they hoped to compensate 
for the love and attention they weren't giving their son, but all they were 
doing was paving his way toward the traps of dangerous narcotics and 
mind-warping obscenity! 

"This is a nice little car," Robbie remarked as they got into the 
Volkswagon, and once again Krista sensed that he was trying to make a 
friendly overture. "I like small cars. My Dad's got a Lincoln Continental, 
and my Mom's got a big Buick, but I think they're crazy. Those things use up 
gas like it grows on trees or something, but my folks don't give a damn 
about anything but showing off how much bread they got." 

Krista glanced at the boy in surprise. The last thing she'd have suspected 
him of having was a social conscience, and the unexpected insight made her 
feel more hopeful of convincing the precocious ninth grader to stop using 
dangerous barbituates. 

"That's just the way I feel about cars," Krista agreed, grasping onto the 
common thread. "With gas so scarce these days, we all should do our part. 
Now tell me where you live, Robbie." 

For some unexplained reason, the blonde home economics teacher found herself 
gripped with a nervous excitement as she followed Robbie's directions toward 
the exclusive subdivision of Arcadia. Much as she wanted to speak with the 
boy, she was perturbed by the close proximity of his body. Surely he was 
sitting far closer to her than necessary - was he going to make another 
crack about her tight sweater and short skirt? 

Don't be ridiculous! she told herself firmly. It's a small car - of course 
he's sitting near you. And why should it bother you, anyway? 

A sudden ray of sunlight burst through the clouds clinging to the horizon, 
momentarily blinding Krista as she turned under the turreted billboard 
announcing the entrance to Arcadia. Squinting in the sudden glare, she 
slowed down to navigate the winding lanes far back from which lay large 
modern split-levels or sham Tudor structures on large, well-landscaped 
lawns. 

"Robbie," she began at last, just as the glittering pencil of sunshine 
dissolved and the afternoon faded into evening. "I wanted to speak with you 
..." 

"About what?" he bristled, instantly defensive. 

Krista didn't want to antagonize the sensitive youth; she wanted to show him 
that she wasn't too old to understand his problems, that she wanted to be 
his friend in the fullest sense of the word. But she did feel a 
responsibility to comment on the dangerous drug he'd bought, even if it made 
her sound like the rest of the nagging adults he so abjectly resented and 
ignored. 

"Those - those pills ..." she said. "Do you have any idea how much damage 
they do to your body? You're young, Robbie - you have your whole life ahead 
of you, and it can be a good life, if you want it to be. But it can be a 
living hell, if you get addicted to drugs at your age. Please believe me!" 

To her surprise, the fourteen year old let out a bitter snort of laughter. 

"Tell me about it!" he said, and the contempt in his voice could not 
entirely disguise his unhappiness. "I got an older sister, ya know, and when 
I went through Chicago last summer, I stopped to see her. Some of her 
boyfriends keep her well supplied with this stuff, and she's living in 
another world. And my Mom, too - that's who these are for. She takes pills 
to sleep at night, and then pills to get through the day." 

He paused, his handsome young face black as a thundercloud, his hands 
gripping the bottle and magazine in his lap so forcefully that his fingers 
trembled. It was as though he felt he'd said too much and wished to retreat 
from his vulnerable position back to the anonymity of his normal delinquent 
image. 

"I'm sorry ..." Krista said softly. There was much more she wanted to 
communicate to the disturbed student, but she was afraid of sounding too 
much like the teacher she was and incurring his hostility. 

"Me, I don't fool around with that shit," Robbie finally continued. "Sure, I 
like to smoke grass, drink booze . . . but I've seen what these weird pills 
do to you and I don't want anything to do with it." 

"I'm proud of you, Robbie!" Krista exclaimed impulsively. "And I want to 
apologize for thinking the worst about you." 

"Yeah ..." 

Although the handsome adolescent didn't look up from his lap, Krista felt 
sure that he appreciated her comment. Heartened, she decided to speak to him 
about the chaos he incited in the room 901 "personal hygiene classes" - the 
boy certainly seemed intelligent enough to understand. 

"One other thing," she said softly. "Why do you keep egging everyone on in 
my class? Why do you want to turn the lessons into a complete shambles? I 
really believe that talking about these things can help you all, but when 
you're turning all the kids against me I can't accomplish anything 
positive." 

"I dunno," the dark-haired youth muttered, looking rather embarrassed. 
"There - that's where you've gotta turn - that's my street." 

Krista deftly pulled her small green car to a stop before a shrub-hidden 
house with the name Blair inscribed in medieval lettering on a sign beside 
the postbox. Turning toward the boy, she stared deeply into his dark eyes 
and once again felt a peculiar shiver coursing along her backbone. 

"I'm serious, Robbie! You and I both know how dangerous it is to be ignorant 
about - uh - sexual matters. I'm talking to you as an adult when I ask you 
please to make the boys behave. They all seem to do what you say." 

Robbie grinned proudly. "Sure they do!" he proclaimed. "I'm the leader. The 
rest of 'em gotta do just what I tell 'em to!" 

It sounded suspiciously like a gang to Krista, and she wanted to get to the 
bottom of this, because to her the word "gang" carried a sordid aura of 
slum-style violence. 

"Would you mind if I came in for a few minutes?" she asked the boy before 
taking time to reconsider her request. "I'd like to meet your mother..." 

Robbie's troubled eyes roved quickly down the tree-lined driveway and peered 
into the three-car garage at the end. No cars were in sight, so he presumed 
his mother was with one of her innumerable "men friends" and would not 
disturb them. There was certainly nothing he'd like better than to spend a 
bit more time with his sexy Home-Ec teacher, who was acting so friendly and 
talking to him in a way no adult had spoken before now. Not only did Miss 
Morrisson have a body that rivaled anything in his Penthouse magazine, she 
also treated him like a human being instead of some sort of repulsive 
reptile. Having her really care about him moved him far more than he was 
ready to admit to himself. 

"Sure," he said easily, then imitated a phrase he'd often heard his mother 
use. "Come on in and have a drink." 

It sounded just right in his ears - smooth, sophisticated. Mom always means 
something else when she says that, he meditated as they walked together 
through the garden, stepping around neat piles of fallen leaves which the 
gardener would gather and burn tomorrow. Does this teacher want some fun and 
games, too? She doesn't seem like the same type, but Jesus, I'd like to get 
my hands on those big tits of hers! Wouldn't the guys fall over when I told 
them that! 

If Robbie Blair was refusing to acknowledge to himself that he was deeply 
flattered by his attractive teacher's interest in him as a person, Krista 
was deluding herself in the opposite direction. 

If I can meet his mother, I'll be able to make more progress helping him 
with his problems, she told herself as they climbed the broad steps of the 
Blairs' old-English style two-story brick residence. I can see exactly how 
she's not providing the right stimulants for him to develop into a happy, 
healthy young man. 

But these brave inner rationalizations did not take into account the 
compelling voice deep inside her soul which was loath to take leave of the 
young boy for other reasons entirely. 

The spacious living room was silent, the house apparently deserted. Krista 
balanced gingerly on the edge of an expensive brown leather couch as Robbie, 
going through the motions of a person far older than he was, expertly mixed 
two dry martinis and handed one to his teacher. His face bore a proud half 
smile, and she refrained from making any comment about his being far under 
the legal drinking age for fear of offending him and breaking the fragile 
cord of communication that was being established between them. Besides, she 
needed a drink! 

"You like martinis?" he asked as he sprawled on a velvet-upholstered 
armchair across from the couch, kicking his dirty tennis shoes against the 
luxurious fabric as only the children of the affluent would dare. "Mom and 
Dad always have them before dinner." 

"Yes, thank you, Robbie," Krista said, though in fact she never drank gin. 
"You have a - a very nice house." 

"Ain't my house - it's my parents'," the youth replied, the habitual sullen 
sneer sliding back over his handsome face. "I hate all this old-fashioned 
garbage. It's as bad as the cars ... all flash!" 

There was a moment of silence. The air seemed strangely charged with an 
electrical excitement which made Krista feel ill at ease. 

"I ... I guess your mother's out..." the pretty teacher said at last. She'd 
sipped her martini too quickly in her nervousness, and as she'd eaten almost 
no lunch, it was already making her feel rather dizzy. 

"Yeah," Robbie sighed, as though he couldn't have cared less. He stood up 
and moved toward the stereo, put on a hard rock album which Krista 
remembered from the fraternity parties with her ex-fiance, then he flopped 
back down in his chair and took a long swallow of his drink. 

Another long silence. 

"About the personal hygiene classes ..." the uncomfortable blonde began at 
last, but the young boy interrupted her. 

"Look, we don't want to learn that shit," he said in a belligerent voice. "I 
know more about crap like that than any damn book, and so do the rest of the 
guys! At least, we know about the things that matter, and we don't wanna 
know about all that vitamin shit!" 

"Maybe your friends know all about - uh - their bodies," Krista's face was 
flushed from embarrassment at Robbie's language and the delicate subject 
matter, but she was determined to make her point, "but I'm sure lots of the 
others don't. You're being selfish - just think about it! Statistics show 
that many unwanted pregnancies could be prevented by proper education 
beforehand." 

The blonde teacher was thinking of what the shop instructor had told her 
about Robbie's older sister, and from the expression on his handsome face, 
she suspected that he was, too. 

"Yeah," he muttered after a brief moment. "Yeah, okay, maybe that's right. I 
never thought of that." 

"Will you speak to your friends?" Krista's melodic voice had dropped to a 
near whisper. "Ask them to stop disrupting the class? Will you do that for 
me?" 

The adolescent's dark head was bent as he stared in deep concentration at 
his shoes which were fashioned of very expensive leather and formed a 
ludicrous contrast to his faded Levi's. At last he raised his face to his 
teacher's, his large brown eyes staring at her with that look which sent her 
blood racing through her veins. 

"Yeah, okay," he agreed, a little smile twisting over his expressive mouth. 
"Yeah, I'll talk to 'em. But let me tell you one thing, Miss Morrisson - I'm 
only gonna do it because you asked me nice. Nobody bosses Robbie Blair 
around!" 

"I'm not trying to 'boss you around,' Robbie," Krista exclaimed. "I want to 
be your friend." 

"Yeah . . . ?" the youth sounded suspicious, curious. 

Impulsively, the curvaceous teacher reached out one slender hand to touch 
the boy's bare arm. A sudden bolt of electrifying excitement shot through 
her body like molten liquid lightning at the contact, and she quickly 
snatched her hand back, but from the look in Robbie's wide-eyed face she 
knew he'd felt something, too. 

"Yes, really," she murmured quietly. 

What's going on inside me? she questioned herself as she sipped her martini. 
Of course it's thrilling to have made a real communication with this 
troubled child, but why does my body feel so peculiar? Perhaps it's the 
martini - never did like gin very much . . . 

Deep inside her soul, Krista realized that the sensation churning in her 
belly was of emotional, not physical, origin, and that it was closely akin 
to the way she's occasionally felt with her boyfriend in college. Her 
conscious mind, however, refused to accept the disturbing reality so she 
quickly changed the topic of conversation in order to break the suspect 
intensity surging between herself and her student. 

"That's a good album you put on," she remarked brightly, though in fact she 
hated it because of its association with Brian Degraff. "Do you like the 
Pink Floyd?" 

Robbie was pleased and surprised to find a grown-up - and a schoolteacher at 
that -interested in rock music. Somehow, after talking to Miss Morrisson 
today, he felt as though the nine years difference in their ages had 
shrunken considerably. She was just like a normal person - a sexy, 
warm-hearted woman in contrast to the giggling girls in his classes. Wow, 
what wouldn't he give for a girl friend like her! 

"Yeah, they're the greatest!" he exclaimed, jumping up and putting on 
another LP as he spoke. "This is one of their old albums - it's really 
outtasight!" 

The music which flooded the luxurious living room was soft at first then 
shaded into strange chords which reminded the listening blonde of a quiet 
stream and the sounds of birds. Krista began to relax under the spell of the 
serene song, but suddenly she stiffened and jerked as a discordant wail 
interrupted the melody. 

"That sounds terrible!" she exclaimed. "Now why would they want to spoil a 
lovely song by putting in a sound like that?" 

She glanced sharply toward her young pupil, wondering why his smooth 
forehead was wrinkled in such a worried frown and why his head was cocked 
toward the arched doorway which led from the cathedral-ceilinged living room 
toward a broad curving staircase. Then the shrill cry echoed through the 
pleasant strains of the Procol Harum album a second time, and Krista 
abruptly recognized that the half-human shriek was coming from upstairs, not 
from the elaborate stereo set. 

"What's that?" she whispered, her brain whirling with scrambled images of 
bloody injured animals or - much worse - some innocent maid being attached 
by a fiendish thief. Surely this was just the sort of house that would 
attract a robber... or a murderous rapist! 

Robbie jolted to his feet as the eerie wail resounded yet another time, 
louder than before, then faded into a groan of undeniably human anguish. 

"Oh, God!" the blonde teacher's quavering hand rose toward her throat in a 
classic gesture of terror as she watched the young boy move swiftly and 
stealthily toward the wide stairway. "Be careful!" she hissed. "Don't go up 
there, Robbie! It might be dangerous ..." 

"Shhhh!" he cautioned. "I'll see what it is ... " 

Actually, the adolescent had a fairly accurate idea of what was transpiring 
upstairs. Mrs. Blair was not what one could call discreet about her numerous 
liaisons, and he had often returned from school to find her locked in 
illicit embrace with one or another of her lovers. Being a normal teenager 
with a full share of the rampant sexual curiosity typical of his age, he'd 
frequently spied on his amoral parent and had gained some very enlightening 
insights into the techniques of lovemaking. 

Today, driven by an instinctive force which he did not attempt to analyze, 
he felt compelled to let this sexy Miss Morrisson see a glimpse of the 
obscene performance he was certain his mother was putting on in the guest 
room. Guest room because his mother never culminated her extra-marital 
affairs in the large double bedroom she shared with her seldom-seen husband. 

Maybe she'll get turned on when she see's Mom going at it! The 
half-formulated thought glided through the back of Robbie's brain like an 
unfelt breeze which somehow ripples the water, and by the time he was 
halfway up the long staircase, his potent young penis was lurching 
uncomfortably inside his skin-tight 

Levi's. That's what happened with Ginny Bromley. .. 

Fifteen year old Ginny who lived just three doors away from the Blairs' home 
in a pseudo-Mediterranean villa flanked by fake Grecian pillars, had 
happened over one late afternoon to sell him one of her older brother's term 
papers. As they'd watched the salacious spectacle from the hallway, the 
brazen blonde tenth grader had hitched up her miniskirt and allowed Robbie 
to ejaculate his eager adolescent sperm inside her sparse-haired pussy. Now, 
though, she was always hinting that she'd like a repeat of the erotic 
session, Robbie couldn't care less. She was nothing but an easy lay whom 
every guy in the neighborhood had screwed, a virtual whore just like his 
mother and older sister Lynda. 

But the voluptuous Home Ec teacher, whom he could hear tiptoeing up the 
carpeted stairs behind him, was quite another matter. Although her every 
gesture and the curving lines of her cock-stirring figure exuded a warm aura 
of femininity, she possessed none of the sluttish qualities he so detested. 

By the time they'd reached the upper landing, the occasional wails had grown 
to a continuous chorus of gasps and groans punctuated by uncontrolled 
whimpers of excitement. All at once the innocent blonde realized what was 
transpiring, and although she was loath to move any closer to the obscene 
sounds, her footsteps quickened as she hurried after her favorite student. 

Robbie mustn't see this ugly thing! her mind cried. It could scar him 
emotionally for the rest of his life! I have to stop him! 

But by the time Krista caught up with the boy, he was already peering 
eagerly through the half-open door, his expressive dark eyes wide with 
interest. Even without looking inside, the horrified teacher's worst 
suspicions were confirmed as a whiff of the pungent, unmistakable odor of 
naked flesh and hot sperm assaulted her distastefully wrinkling nostrils. 

"Robbie!" she breathed urgently into his ear. "Get away from here! Come back 
downstairs with me!" 

Instead of obeying his teacher's instructions, the lust-driven adolescent 
draped one strong arm around Miss Morrisson's slender back and pulled her 
into a position where she could not fail to see the salacious spectacle. 
Through the thin wool of her pullover, his tight-pressing fingers explored 
the contours of her warm flesh, and his virile teenage penis throbbed in 
automatic response. Suddenly, the force of his longing for his lovely 
teacher hit Robbie full force, and he lost all reservations and inhibitions. 

"Whaddya think of that?" his low voice hummed in her ear. "That's my Mom 
..." 

Shock and sympathy for her good-looking young pupil merged in Krista's 
confused mind to an overwhelming degree, and his insistently pinching 
fingers on her back only increased her inner turmoil. She stared at the 
shocking scene before her eyes with the same feeling one experiences in 
overly violent films - an instinctive revulsion mingled with some strange 
curiosity. In fact, the debauchery was such that she could scarcely 
comprehend its reality. 

Rhoda Blair, her ripely curvaceous body positioned so that her son and his 
schoolteacher received a licentious view of her well-rounded ivory-white 
buttocks and sculpted legs, was lying on her side with her scarlet-smeared 
lips ovalled around the turgid stiffness of her lover's penis. At the same 
time, the man was fiercely pushing an ivory dildo into her dark-fringed 
vaginal orifice. 

"Yeeaahh," she wailed, her loins undulating in rhythmic response to the 
frantic thrusts of the phallic instrument. "Do it to me . . . give it to me 
. . . yeeeaaahhh . . . oohh, yeeeaahh . . . punish me, lover ... harder, 
harder . . . yeeeaahh!" 

Krista Morrisson, her widened brown eyes glued to the shameless display, 
fought back a rush of nausea. This was even worse than that dreadful 
fraternity party! And the most horrifying part of it was that this innocent 
child was observing his own naked mother's perverted performance. 

Oh, God, how can I help Robbie? her tortured mind grieved. How can I help 
him face this obscene devastation of his family security? Rex Simmons was 
right about his mother. 

While Krista labored under her misconceptions, her precocious pupil was 
inwardly gloating at the expression on his teacher's heart-shaped face. She 
was shocked, that much was obvious, but he thought he could also detect a 
glimmer of forbidden arousal in her amber-flecked eyes. 

"Whaddya think!" he whispered again, almost imperceptibly running his tongue 
along her earlobe, which he'd been told was one of the nerve-filled "erotic 
centers" of the body. 

The blonde teacher shivered at the sensuous tickling sensation, but she 
scarcely realized what had caused it. Her attention had temporarily wavered 
from the boy by her side to the lascivious act being performed on the large 
bed in front of her, and she was staring as though mesmerized at the older 
woman's crimson-painted fingernails smoothly stroking the naked man's 
jouncing testicles. Deep in her own vagina she felt an unwanted responsive 
tingling, but although she clamped her full-fleshed thighs together in acute 
shame, the forbidden feeling refused to vanish. 

No, no! her conscience shouted. You can't be feeling excited by this 
ugliness! It's sick! 

Clenching her eyes to blot out the lurid details of Robbie's mother's 
debauched cock-sucking, she started to back away from the half-open doorway. 
It was only then that she became fully conscious of her handsome young 
pupil's tightly circling arm. 

Krista's hand swiveled sharply to stare at the boy in astonishment, but his 
gaze was fixed upon the rumpled red velveteen bed. Little rivulets of 
perspiration had formed on his forehead and he acted as though he didn't 
feel his teacher's body trying to pull away. In fact, his grip around her 
straining back grew more forceful than ever. 

"Come on, Robbie, please!" Krista urged. "Don't watch them - come 
downstairs!" 

"Shhhh!" the youth turned from the salacious scene for a brief instant, and 
his teacher saw that his dark eyes gleamed with a strange wild light. 
"They'll hear us and-" 

The rest of the boy's sentence was drowned out by a hoarse grunt from the 
man on the bed. 

"Suck it, you whore!" he cried as he rammed the thick ivory phallus to the 
hilt between the curling black tendrils of Rhoda Blair's down-thrusting 
pubic mound. "Uuuugghh! that's it! All the way down that hot little throat! 
Yeah! YEAH!" 

Krista's horror-widened brown eyes flew for the first time toward the man 
sprawled beneath the shameless mother's slavishly kneeling body. He appeared 
to be about forty-five or fifty with thinning dun-colored hair and the pot 
belly typical of a heavy beer drinker. The innocent teacher wondered 
fleetingly what Robbie's attractive brunette mother saw in this unattractive 
specimen - somehow it made the whole affair even more sordid and defiling 
that her illicit lover wasn't even handsome. 

"Uuuumm . . . aaahhh! Uuuuuhhh ..." the lewd, incomprehensible sounds 
spilled from Rhoda Blair's lipstick-smeared mouth in a steady stream in 
obscene tempo with the jouncing of her unnaturally impaled pussy and the 
straining contortions of her mouth. Krista's eyes bugged from their sockets 
as she watched the experienced woman suck the thickly throbbing cock-shaft 
so deep into her mouth that only a few inches of angry-red male flesh 
remained visible. 

"Oh, no!" she gasped under her breath, suddenly feeling so faint that she 
would have toppled over if it hadn't been for the young boy's restraining 
arm around her waist. 

"Shhhhhh!" hissed Robbie for the second time. 

Krista focused her vision on his smooth young face, noticing that his cheeks 
were feverishly flushed and that his breath was coming in rapid gasps. He 
seemed completely unaware of her presence as his dark eyes darted first to 
his mother's artificially filled vagina then to her saliva-slickened scarlet 
lips, but in fact he was very conscious of the trembling blonde beside him 
... so conscious that his potent young penis swelled longer and thicker than 
ever until it tented out from his jeans so noticeably that only a naive 
person like the young teacher could have failed to observe it. 

"AAAHHH!" screamed the brunette adulteress, and she began bucking her 
voluptuous loins more furiously than before. 

Robbie could sense that his mother was nearing her climax, and while part of 
him hated her wanton vulgarity, he did not try to deny that her uninhibited 
lovemaking was lewdly arousing. An intense erotic elation was transforming 
the blood in his veins to liquid fire as he spontaneously pulled his 
voluptuous teacher a little closer to him. 

Christ, I don't believe this! his passion-stupefied mind exulted. What'll 
the guys say when I tell them I had my arm around sexy Miss Morrisson, and 
she didn't even try to stop me! I just don't get it... she always acted so 
uptight before. . . 

The fair-haired teacher was even more bewildered than her fourteen year old 
student as to why she didn't put an end to this scandalous situation, but 
she felt as though she were paralyzed. Of course she had no business letting 
one of her young male pupils touch her in this way, but under the 
circumstances there seemed no way to move away from Robbie without causing a 
commotion and alerting the obscenely copulating couple within, and that 
would embarrass him more than ever. 

That's the main thing - to do what's best for Robbie, she rationalized, 
refusing to admit how strangely exciting it felt standing encircled in his 
clasping arms. Right now he needs comfort, needs to know that someone 
believes in him, has confidence in his worth as a person in spite of his 
horrible mother. 

If only he would move away from the torrid tableau of his own accord, then 
everything would be all right. They could have a long discussion about what 
true love should be, and she would assure him that physical relations need 
not be ugly and degrading. Strangely enough, although she'd been quite 
unsure of this herself after the experience with Brian, she now felt a warm 
certainty that love could be a beautiful and honest thing, an act of giving 
and receiving that benefitted both man and woman. Not like Mrs. Blair's 
self-destructive depravity, no . . . more like the happiness she herself 
felt being near Robbie and knowing he trusted her as he'd never before 
trusted an adult . . . 

The young blonde gritted her teeth and closed her brown eyes tight to shut 
out the lewd sight of the strange man's swollen hardness ramming up into 
Mrs. Blair's wide-stretched red lips. She would stay with the troubled boy 
because he needed her, but she didn't have to watch the degrading display. 

"Christ, you fucking bitch!" the man's hoarse voice exclaimed. "I'm gonna 
cum right in your mouth! Cum all over ya!" 

His shameless cry was followed by an acceleration in the lewd sluicing noise 
which Krista knew was caused by the madly thrusting dildo, and then a 
strangled groan of pure animal passion erupted from the abandoned mother. 
With a low sigh of despair, the innocent teacher allowed her eyelids to 
slide open; it was no use trying to shut out reality, for her imagination 
supplied vivid images to accompany each obscene sound. 

Robbie's left hand - quite involuntarily, his naive teacher felt sure - had 
somehow drifted down along her spine to settle on the firm-fleshed mounds of 
her kilt-covered buttocks, and this overly intimate contact made Krista feel 
more uncomfortable than ever. Unwanted shivers of sensation flickered from 
the spot where his hand grasped her ass-cheek to every nerve-ending in her 
trembling body, disturbing her almost more than the inhumanly contorted 
faces and spasming bodies of the lust-frenzied couple inside the bedroom. 

"You fantastic bitch . . . you fuck me so good with your mouth . . . make me 
cum, damnit!" the man ranted, shoving the eight inch ivory dildo in and out 
of Rhoda Blair's hungrily accepting cunt with such force that Krista's own 
almost virginal vagina cringed in sympathy. 

Glistening droplets of milk-white vaginal secretions were oozing from the 
ecstatically moaning brunette's artificially ravished pussy, soaking her 
sparsely curling pubic hair and even dribbling down her snow-white thighs 
and onto the red velveteen bedspread. Much to her dismay, the disconcerted 
schoolteacher could feel her own involuntary cuntal secretions moistening 
the crotchband of her modest white nylon panties, and she clamped her 
quivering thighs together in an attempt to stop the embarrassing flow. This 
well-meaning effort, of course, only succeeded in heightening the strange, 
unwanted vibrations surging all through her tight-squeezing upper legs and 
churning belly. 

Oh, God! her mind wailed in feverish agony. Please make this torture end! 
Please make Robbie come to his senses and get away from here! 

Yet although she told herself that she couldn't bear another instant of this 
corruption, the young blonde's eyes remained as tightly glued to the 
thrashing couple's violently climaxing bodies as did those of her fourteen 
year old student. She watched, incredulous, as the older woman's cock-filled 
cheeks bulged around the man's fleshy staff, felt her own throat tighten as 
the dark-haired woman's Adam's apple bobbed up and down in her frantic 
effort to swallow every drop of the stranger's wildly spurting semen. And 
although she was sincerely revolted by the way Robbie's immoral mother 
continued to squirm against the upthrusting imitation penis, her traitorous 
vaginal muscles began to dilate and contract in automatic arousal. 

"Uuuuggg . . . AHHHHH!" the wantonly bucking woman wailed, and suddenly the 
two wide-eyed watchers saw her voluptuous body stiffen and jerk as she 
writhed in the throes of an extravagant orgasm along with her 
still-ejaculating lover. 

The sticky wet dildo slipped unnoticed from her fulfilled cuntal depths with 
a lewd, sluicing sound and, untended, rolled off the heaving mattress. 
Robbie saw that Miss Morrisson's consternated eyes followed the indecent 
object's path as it inched in their direction, and he felt a telltale 
quivering in her softly fleshed buttocks. 

"C'mon, let's get outta here!" he hissed in her ear. 

Once again, he gave her velvet-smooth earlobe an imperceptible caress with 
his tongue, but as before she did not seem to notice his bold overture. Her 
lovely face looked wooden and dazed, and it was hard for her desire-blinded 
student to be sure exactly what she was thinking as she followed him 
robot-like back down the stairway and into the living room. 

The stereo was still blaring out to the empty room, the automatic record 
change mechanism having dropped down the Beatles' Sergeant Pepper album. 

"Ohhh, I get by with a little help from my friends," wailed the musicians, 
and suddenly, Krista's pent-up tension got the better of her. Hot tears, 
triggered by the song's poignant refrain, brimmed up in the corners of her 
large, amber-flecked eyes, and she impulsively reached toward her handsome 
teenager student and grasped both his hands in her own as they stood in the 
hallway. 

"Oh, Robbie," she said in a soft, emotion-charged voice, "I'm so sorry you 
had to see an ugly thing like that! Try to forget it, darling." 

The endearment slipped from between her lips before she had a chance to 
think about what she was saying, and the troubled teacher grew terribly 
flustered as the word resounded above the pounding rhythm of the loud rock 
music. 

What's the matter with me? she chastened herself, attempting to pull her 
hands away from the boy's. That's the wrong way to talk to a teenager - 
he'll think you're treating him like a baby . . . Why on earth did you say 
"darling" to him, anyway? 

But Robbie's reaction was totally unexpected. Quite the opposite from taking 
his teacher's affectionate word as an insult on his maturity, he considered 
that she really thought of him as a man ... a sexually desirable man. Too 
excited to even notice that she was trying to disentangle her hands, he 
tugged her toward him with all the considerable force in his muscular young 
loins. 

As Krista felt her body falling against the youth's broad chest, she was so 
surprised that she lost her balance entirely and collapsed against Robbie 
with her long honey-blonde hair sweeping down over his shoulder and her 
burning face pressed against the smooth warmth of his neck. Unlike many of 
the boys in his class, his skin was unblemished, and for one unthinking 
moment the sheer sensory pleasure of his silken flesh was so overwhelming 
that she forgot where she was and what she was allowing to happen. Then as 
his pulsating virility pressed up against her thigh, she jerked away in 
shocked confusion. 

"R-Robbie!" she stammered. "Wh-What are you-" 

Before she could finish her question, the impetuous fourteen year old had 
pulled her back against his body and mashed his warm lips up against her 
half-open mouth. His moistly quivering tongue shot between her teeth at 
once, muffling her cry of protest, and again she felt his potent young penis 
lurching against her trembling upper leg. 

"I've wanted to do this ever since I first saw you!" the lust-maddened 
adolescent mumbled into her futilely resisting mouth. 

This, though he'd never admitted it even to himself until now, was 
completely true. Even when he'd delighted in tormenting the nervous new Home 
Ec teacher and made crude jokes about her magnificent body behind her back, 
he'd wanted her. He'd known inside that, although Miss Morrisson was the 
sort of female he'd never really had experience with, she was the opposite 
of his unfaithful mother and sluttish sister Lynda . . . she was the naked 
Venus who glided through his most secret daydreams. 

"You've treated me better than anyone else ever did," he said now in a burst 
of passion-inspired honesty. "I think I really love you, Miss Morrisson!" 

"ROBBIE!" Krista cried, twisting her mouth away from him at last. "Don't be 
ridiculous!" 

This is insane! her brain whirled in a crazy carousel of confusion. What in 
God's name have I gotten myself into? 

Her eyes roved wildly around her, staring at everything else but the 
youngster whose close-hugging loins gave her such a strange, unwanted sense 
of excitement. 

"But I mean it, Miss Morrisson!" Robbie insisted. His voice sounded hurt, 
defensive. "I thought you said you wanted to be my friend..." 

"Oh, but I do, Robbie - I do!" Krista tried to speak in her normal 
schoolteacher tone, but a tremulous quaver gave her away. "I am your friend 
. . . but. . . but-" 

"But what?" Robbie whispered, and then his crushing lips were once more 
preventing any discussion and his hungry tongue was nuzzling against the 
walls of her traitorously accepting mouth. 

Krista tried one last time to break away from the forbidden embrace, but by 
this point she was so confused by the contradictory impulses surging through 
her healthy young body that she didn't really put any heart into her 
protest. Somehow, the straining muscles of Robbie's eager young body - yes, 
even the frantically throbbing hardness which had filled her with such fear 
and dread in older men - suffused her with an uncontrollable desire. 

I WANT him to kiss me! she realized, and although the shocking 
self-knowledge stabbed at her conscience like a well-honed dagger, she 
realized that her tongue was involuntarily thrusting back against Robbie's. 

What in God's name is wrong with me? Guilty recriminations flooded the young 
blonde's brain, yet still she made no real effort to end the illegal 
embrace. I never let anyone but Brian kiss me this way before - and I didn't 
feel this way when he did it, either. Maybe. . . maybe it's because Robbie 
needs me so much. 

This neat bit of rationalization restored Krista's composure to the extent 
that she pulled her flushed face away and said firmly, "I think we should 
have a talk, Robbie." 

From upstairs came the dim sound of running water and a low peal of amorous 
laughter and vile memories of what she'd just witnessed surged through 
Krista's mind. Disentangling herself from her young student's passionate 
gaze and resolutely ignoring his woebegone expression, she moved toward the 
living room. Although she'd much preferred to have left the house at once 
and avoid an encounter with the unprincipled mother, she refused to desert 
the unhappy boy until she'd tried to console him. 

But I mustn't touch him again, she vowed, seating herself primly on the same 
leather sofa they'd vacated fifteen minutes before. Of course, it's not 
surprising for a boy his age to have a crush on his teacher, but I mustn't 
encourage it. The main thing is to help him understand that what he saw 
upstairs isn't all there is to love and marriage. . . to make him realize 
all women aren't like his mother. 

The thought of Mrs. Blair so enraged the pretty blonde schoolteacher that 
she forgot her new-made promise and reached for Robbie's hand. He'd sat down 
next to her, a scowl darkening his handsome face, but his hand gripped hers 
eagerly. 

"I do want to be your friend, Robbie," Krista began, "but - uh - hugging and 
kissing are something you save for someone you love in another way. For 
someone you marry ..." 

"Oh, yeah?" the boy muttered resentfully. "What about Mom, then? She sure 
ain't married to that guy and they were doing a hell of a lot more than 
hugging and kissing." 

Krista wished that the fourteen year old wouldn't swear so much, but this 
didn't seem the appropriate time to criticize his language. 

"That's exactly what I want to talk with you about, Robbie," she replied. 
"The reason your mother does ugly things is because she doesn't understand 
the true meaning of love. She doesn't realized that it's caring for the 
other person as much as you care about yourself, so-" 

"But that's how I feel about you, Miss Morrisson!" interrupted the aroused 
youngster, and suddenly his arms were around his teacher again. "So why 
don't you want me to show it? I bet you don't really care about me at all, 
that's what!" 

What on earth am I supposed to do now? Krista's mind whirled in wild search 
for some way out of this dilemma, but the strange tingling excitement was 
once again rushing through her bloodstream and making clear thought 
impossible. 

"R-Robbie ..." she tried to speak, but her voice trailed off helplessly as 
the dark-haired teenager's head pressed up against her throbbing breasts. 

"I just love your breasts, Miss Morrisson," he whispered. "I always wanted 
to touch them like this!" 

Then he was kissing her again, more urgently than before, and his strong 
hands were massaging the twin mounds through her thin wool sweater. Since 
she wore only the lightest sort of stretchy nylon brassiere, her tautened 
nipples peaked through the red pullover like two tiny ripe berries, thinly 
covered and sensitive to his touch. As the aroused youth rolled them between 
his fingers, violent surges of heat-lightning careened throughout her body. 

"No . . . you m-mustn't ..." she managed to gasp. 

Robbie didn't appear to have heard her. "You're so beautiful! And you really 
care! I think you're just outtasight, Miss Morrisson, no kidding!" 

Before Krista could say anything, there was a sound of footsteps on the 
stairs, followed by a raucous burst of laughter. Although the schoolteacher 
jerked away from her young male student instantaneously, his raven-haired 
mother and her lover had already seen their embrace. 

"Well, if it isn't Robbie." Mrs. Blair whose voluptuous figure was 
emphasized rather than hidden by her opaque rose-pink dressing gown, 
tottered unsteadily toward them. "Doesn't he look cute kissing his little 
girl friend, Jake? Just precious!" 

The man called Jake who looked rather more presentable in his well-cut suit 
than he had when naked, laughed mirthlessly. His eyes slid toward his watch. 

"Oh, don't eat and run!" Rhoda Blair giggled and the balding man guffawed. 
"Let's have a little drinkie. I'm not supposed to after taking those pills, 
but what the hell! Live dangerously, that's my motto!" 

Dangerously, all right, Krista thought angrily. Dangerous for her innocent 
son! She's absolutely disgusting! An unfit mother for an intelligent, 
sensitive boy like Robbie. . . but it's a good thing she's too drunk to see 
that I'm far too old to be her son's girl friend. 

In fact, the dark-haired mother hadn't touched a drop of anything except 
strong black coffee today; she'd taken a couple of her favorite little red 
pills before her session with Jake - they made her extra responsive, she'd 
explained to her casual lover with a provocative smirk - and she was feeling 
giddily self-confident but rather uncoordinated. 

"I hope you weren't too busy with your little friend to remember my pills?" 
she demanded to her sullen son. 

"I got 'em." 

"Well, then, pour us some martinis, can't you?" Rhoda was suddenly 
irritated. The pills made her moods fluctuate for no apparent reason. 

Suddenly Krista stood up, feeling thankful that the overcast sky had faded 
into an early dusk and that she'd happened to be wearing this schoolgirlish 
kilt and pullover instead of her usual conservative dresses. But even if 
they did notice her age, she couldn't bear to stay in this room another 
instant. 

"I have to get home," she said, instinctively twisting her face into the 
self-conscious smile she'd worn when visiting friends' homes in her high 
school days. "It was nice meeting you." 

To the blonde teacher's relief, Robbie came with her toward the door and out 
into the darkening front yard. Long shadows from the trees and shrubbery 
were rapidly melting into solid blackness, and a desolate wind was whipping 
the neatly raked leaves all across the lawn. 

"Good night, Robbie," Krista said softly. Her heart was overflowing with 
sympathy for the handsome teenager, but though she wanted to express this to 
him, the words stuck in her throat. Smiling rather tremulously, she held out 
her hand. 

Before the inexperienced twenty-three year old knew what was happening, she 
felt herself once again pressed tightly against her well-built student's 
muscular chest. His heated lips meshed against her mouth, causing her to 
gasp for breath, and although she fully recognized how dangerous this 
illicit physical contact was, she couldn't pull away from his ardent 
embrace. 

The poor unhappy child, she thought distractedly, trying without much 
success to ignore the flaming fingers of arousal that fanned from her 
crushed breasts to every nerve-ending in her trembling body. How can I deny 
him the affection he needs so badly? 

"You know, I wish you were really my girl friend! Robbie murmured into the 
soft cavern of his lovely teacher's mouth. "What's your name, anyway? Your 
first name, I mean." 

Krista fought to regain her self-control, but in spite of herself she was 
trembling from head to toe. 

"You . . . you mustn't say things like that, Robbie," she stammered, trying 
unsuccessfully to pull her thighs away from the pulsating hardness bulging 
from her fourteen year old student's tight jeans. My God! she thought in 
dismay, the boy's got an erection! Things are really getting out of hand! 

"How come? I mean it... " he frowned at her suspiciously. Are you just like 
the rest of the grown-ups who're always saying 'tell the truth,' and then 
biting your head off if you do?" 

The young teacher tried to laugh, but the strangled sound that wrenched from 
her constricted throat bore more resemblance to a sob. 

"But surely you have a nice girl friend in your own class?" she choked out. 
"A good-looking boy like you ..." 

"Aw they're just dumb kids," Robbie shrugged contemptuously. "All they wanna 
do is giggle with their girl friends down at the sweet shop or something. 
They act like they're mentally retarded!" 

"B-but I-I" Krista faltered, "I'm your teacher, R-Robbie, and . . . and ..." 

"Then teach me!" the impetuous boy demanded. "You say my mother thinks about 
love the wrong way - well, you show me the right way! Please!" 

"B-But, Robbie . . . b-but..." 

Her voice faded away as she suddenly realized that her young pupil's eagerly 
throbbing penis was rubbing in an obscene undulating motion just below her 
involuntarily dampening vagina. Of course he didn't mean to do it - after 
reading over a dozen research books on adolescent sexuality in preparation 
for her detested personal hygiene lessons, she was well aware of the 
uncontrolled physical needs of pubescent males - but she must find some way 
to stop him without wounding his sensitive ego. 

But the crimson-faced young teacher couldn't make herself move! Her 
traitorous loins, acting as though with a mind of their own, refused to 
relinquish the exquisite pleasure which was invading every inch of her 
fire-filled flesh. Although she was overcome with guilt at her own 
wickedness, she could not hold back the obscene gasp of ecstasy which 
slipped from her lips as his boyishly burgeoning cock pressured right up 
against her skirt and panty-protected pussy. 

At the sound of the older woman's low whimper, Robbie's potently protruding 
penis swelled so thick and iron-hard that he thought it would rip through 
his thick denim jeans. 

Jeez! he thought frantically. If I don't move I'm gonna shoot my load all 
over Miss Morrisson's clothes, and she'll be so mad she'll never talk to me 
again. 

It was an impossible dilemma; Robbie's frustrated adolescent body was even 
less able to obey the commands of his conscience than was that of his 
teacher. Telling himself that in another minute he would put an end to this 
dangerous titillation, he hugged the blonde woman to him with all the 
strength in his healthy young loins. 

"Tell me your name," he insisted in a lust-distorted voice. "Please! Or else 
we aren't really friends." 

The flaxen-haired teacher's bewildered brain was whirling with black clouds 
of confusion as she stared at her young student. Neither of them noticed 
that cold drops of rain had begun to splatter down on their passionately 
entwined bodies. 

"My name's Krista," she whispered. 

It's like those tribes we learned about in college, her mind whirled wildly. 
They only told their real names to someone they trusted enough to feel 
vulnerable with . . . 

"Krista ..." Robbie sounded as though he were savoring a mouthful of some 
new and exotic food. "Krista ..." 

Suddenly all coherent thought was wiped from the trembling schoolteacher's 
consciousness as the handsome teenager began bucking violently against her 
unwillingly excited vagina. A galvanizing bolt of pure passion charged 
through her bloodstream, and she abruptly abandoned all pretense of modesty 
and began a wanton rotation of her own fire-filled loins in eager response 
to his lust. 

"Ohhhh," she gasped in helpless delight. 

For a long blissful instant, everything vanished from Krista's mind but 
sheer wonderment at the never-before-experienced sensations surging through 
her frustrated body. Then, as the moaning teenager stiffened and jerked 
against her and a shamefully sticky moisture began seeping from his wildly 
lurching penis onto her plaid skirt, she was jolted abruptly back into the 
chill horror of reality. 

"NO!" she cried, yanking herself away from Robbie Blair with such sudden 
force that he nearly toppled onto the grass in the throes of his orgasm. 
"You - you bad boy!" 

It was a stupid thing to say, and the shuddering young teacher realized it 
the instant the words left her lips. It's you who's bad! her guilt-ridden 
conscience shouted. You let this happen! He's only an innocent child - but 
you 're a sick pervert! 

Yet, strangely enough, the knowledge of her own moral turpitude only roused 
Krista's undeserved anger against the bewildered youth. As though some 
devious portion of her brain believed that by lashing out at him she could 
restore her own self-respect, the trembling blonde began scolding the boy in 
a hysteria-tinged schoolteacher voice. 

"You bad, bad boy!" she exclaimed again, staring in disgust at the growing 
dark patch on his jeans. "How could you do such a thing?" 

And then, to her surprise, she began to weep. As she half-ran, half-stumbled 
across the darkened lawn toward her car, the stinging teardrops mingled with 
cold rain upon her flaming cheeks, and her choking sobs were wafted away by 
the suddenly icy wind. 

Chapter Four 

One bright Sunday morning, two weeks after the shameful episode with young 
Robbie Blair, Krista Morrisson stood biting her fingernails and staring 
desolately out her rather smudged picture window at a troupe of toddlers on 
tricycles and a worried-looking young husband mowing his patch of crabgrass. 
The weather had unexpectedly turned warm again, but despite the bright 
sunlight and glorious autumn colors, the pretty schoolteacher's mood was one 
of nervous agitation. 

Poor Robbie! she agonized for the millionth time since that afternoon when 
she'd visited his home. I've made him feel so unhappy - and that was the 
last thing on the earth that I wanted to do. .. 

A vivid image of his handsome young face staring up at her in 
uncomprehending misery from the rows of desks in homeroom 901 flashed before 
her eyes, and she gave her thumbnail such a vicious gnaw that an unnoticed 
spot of blood appeared. The poor youngster was obviously perplexed by her 
unwillingness to be with him alone, but what could she do? Risking another 
incident like the one two weeks ago was simply too dangerous. 

Krista sighed and turned away from the incongrously cheerful tableau outside 
her dusty window. If she'd been in her normal energetic high spirits, she'd 
probably have started polishing windows and doing the mending, but today she 
felt too depressed to do anything but flop down on the sagging imitation 
leather couch and light another cigarette. 

Moving to Country Club Hills had been a mistake, she recognized now, because 
every time she observed the newly married couples and their army of 
preschool offspring, she felt again the impossibility of ever being able to 
play their game. It was the same feeling she'd had last night on the date 
she'd finally accepted with Rex Simmons, the shop teacher ... a feeling of 
not belonging, of being unable to cope with the normal behavior patterns. 

As she recalled the way he'd tried to kiss her in his new Mustang after 
their evening of dancing and drinking at The Bavarian Barn, a 
Munich-inspired beer hall stationed on the expressway leading into Toledo, 
Krista's hand rose involuntarily to her mouth as if to wipe away the taste 
of the sandy-haired man's insistent lips. All she'd been able to think of, 
as he pressed his hard mouth to hers and mumbled inanities about how pretty 
she looked, was how much more beautiful and meaningful it had been kissing 
Robbie Blair. 

"Damnit it all, anyway!" she muttered rebelliously. Swearing wasn't one of 
the well-bred young woman's vices, but this morning it suited her downcast 
mood. "I won't think about anything today. I'll take a nice drive in the 
country and forget my troubles. Rex Simmons said there's lots of nice lakes 
a little north of here - I'll drive up there. After all, if I'm living in 
this part of the country, I should at least get to know something except 
Pottawattamie Heights." 

Yet when Krista - who for some inexplicable reason had changed from her 
faded blue jeans and unironed shirt to a figure-flattering slacks and 
sweater ensemble in a shade of rusty orange which set off her amber-flecked 
eyes and pale golden hair - got into her car, she found herself heading 
toward the exclusive subdivision of Arcadia instead of directly for the 
freeway. Without consciously having made any decision, she found herself 
cruising along the winding street on which the Blairs' imitation Tudor home 
was located, and her left foot automatically pressed on the brake as she 
neared their driveway. 

What in God's name am I doing here? she asked herself. 

Then, as a slim, well-built young figure in tight jeans appeared from behind 
the lilac bushes in the corner of the front yard, her question was 
immediately answered. The attractive adolescent's eyes turned in aimless 
curiosity toward the slowing car, then lighted up in excitement as he 
recognized his teacher's green Volks wagon. 

Drive on! Krista lectured herself sternly. You're only asking for trouble! 
But it was no use - one foot remained cemented to the brake even as she 
pressed on the gas pedal, stalling the car. 

Robbie bounded eagerly toward the automobile, coming to a standstill a scant 
foot away from the driver's seat as the perturbed blonde teacher fumbled 
nervously with the ignition. 

"Hi, M-Miss Morrisson," he stammered, suddenly shy. "C-can I help out?" 

"Why, hello, Robbie." The pretty blonde tried to speak lightly, but her 
high-pitched voice rang artifical even in her own ears. "I just happened to 
be passing ... on my way to the country . . . such a lovely day ..." 

As she fiddled with the ignition, the car's motor turned over and began to 
purr again in the normal way. 

"Well, everything seems all right now," she remarked brightly. "I guess I'll 
get going ..." 

"Miss Morrisson!" Robbie exclaimed. "Wait a sec!" 

"Yes?" Krista's voice sounded fairly steady now, but her legs were still 
trembling. 

The unhappy adolescent stared at his teacher's face, obviously trying to 
speak but unable to utter a syllable, and suddenly she heard herself saying, 
"Would you like to come along? I was going up to the lakes." 

Immediately, the youth's troubled expression transformed to a look of 
rapture, and within seconds he'd jumped into the seat beside her. 

"Great!" he exclaimed. "I know some really super places up there." 

It took about an hour to reach the particular little lake which Robbie 
recommended, and all during that time Krista managed to keep the 
conversation strictly general. They spoke of the scenery, the fine weather, 
and New York where Mrs. Blair had gone for the weekend with her latest 
boyfriend and where Krista had once been on a school excursion. 

They were still discussing the various sightseeing spots in New York City 
when they parked the car in a shady picnic spot and started crunching down a 
narrow leaf-covered footpath through the forest, but within minutes Krista's 
confidently casual tone faded away. Somehow, now that she was without the 
crutch of maneuveruring the automobile, she was too aware of Robbie's 
burning gaze to continue her flow of artificial conversation. 

"I ... I really appreciate the way you've made the class behave during the - 
the hygiene lessons," she began hesitantly. "It's made things much easier 
for me." 

Robbie felt a rush of pride; he'd made a rather strenuous effort to curb his 
friends' tendancy to torment their obviously embarrassed sex-education 
teacher, and had been sorely disappointed when she'd failed to compliment 
him before. Now, gazing deeply into her long-lashed brown eyes, he felt an 
egoistic surge of triumph. 

"Yeah," he shrugged, shuffling his expensive leather shoes in. the dry brown 
leaves more vigorously than necessary. "They all do what I say - and I 
wanted to help you out." 

"Well, thank you . . . " 

Much to the flustered teacher's relief, their path suddenly came to an end 
at the bank of a small, totally deserted lake. Tall pines and robust oaks 
surrounded the crescent-shaped azure-blue pool, and the cries from the ducks 
and other birds were so loud that it seemed unnecessary to continue the 
rather disconcerting conversation. 

"C'mon," Robbie said at last, taking hold of Krista's hand and tugging her 
after him as he spoke, "I wanna show you a really neat place!" 

Krista's pulse quickened as the boy's warm fingers gripped around her own, 
and her hopes of keeping this afternoon outing a strictly platonic affair 
vanished. Willpower! she silently commanded herself. Control! But even as 
the words rang in her brain, that unwanted tingling sensation was pulsing up 
between her legs and in her belly, and beneath her snug turtleneck sweater 
her full breasts were swelling with an ominous inner heat. 

In an effort to block the intensity of her sinfully rising emotions, the 
young blonde turned her attention to the beauty of the landscape. She found 
it surprising, but extremely endearing, that "Robbie should take such an 
intense pleasure in sunlit glades filled with goldenrod and the clear brook 
that rippled its willow-edged way down to the lake. Who would believe that 
this was the same boy who'd been known as the school troublemaker only two 
short weeks ago? 

"Here we are!" he cried enthusiastically as the path led them to a sandy 
beach beside which tumbled a small waterfall. "Do you like it?" 

"Oh, it's lovely! It's just perfect!" Krista gave her student's hand an 
impulsive squeeze. "I'm so glad you brought me here." 

Indeed, it was a beautiful spot, the sort of scene whose almost magical 
quality cannot help but fill those who stumble upon it with a serene joy in 
being alive. Graceful ferns and velvet-soft moss grew all around the 
brightly cascading water, their fresh green color providing a vivid contrast 
to the scarlet leaves and sapphire blue water, and overhanging willow 
branches and ivory-white water lilies gave a sense of Oriental mystique. 
Isolated in this pastoral paradise, it was all too easy to forget the 
restrictions and responsibilities of the everyday world. 

Inevitably, teacher and student found themselves groping for one another's 
feverishly responsive bodies, their eager lips meeting in a long drawn-out 
kiss which took their breath away. Everything vanished, for one ecstatic 
moment, save the delirious bliss of their mutual desire. 

This is the way it should have felt with Brian, Krista's dizzy mind whirled. 
A shiver of surprise ran down her spine as she realized that her thoughts 
had scarcely dwelt upon her ex-fiance at all during the past couple weeks - 
she'd been too absorbed in Robbie to worry about the bitter past. 

"Oh Miss Morrisson..." Robbie groaned under his breath. 

The lust-maddened adolescent's virile penis felt even longer and thicker 
against Krista's thigh than it had the first time he'd embraced his Home-Ec 
teacher's voluptuous figure, and he was desperately afraid that he might cum 
in his jeans in the same humiliating manner as before. If only she would let 
him put his painfully throbbing cock inside her and teach him how it felt to 
make love to a real woman - or at least massage his aching hardness in her 
soft white hands. Did he dare ask her? She'd certainly been acting as though 
she liked him today, as though she wasn't mad about what happened the other 
time... 

Before Robbie could summon up the courage to make any overture, however, the 
twenty-three year old teacher came to her senses. With a tormented gasp of 
guilt, she snapped her neck back to break the forbidden kiss and stared at 
the handsome teenager in wide-eyed despair. 

"No, Robbie, no," she said softly, twisting her slender fingers together 
nervously. "Please ... we mustn't..." 

"How come?" the dark-haired youth insisted. 

Robbie was an intelligent, intuitive boy who'd learned at an early age to 
protect himself against his unstable family by distinguishing between what 
adults said and what they really meant. Now, although Miss Morrisson's "no" 
was firm, he immediately perceived the indecision in her voice. Even more 
importantly, he realized that she'd never have allowed any physical contact 
between them unless she herself secretly longed for him. 

"It's like I said before," he continued. "I think I love you - and I want to 
learn about love in a good way. It's normal to want to express your emotions 
with your body!" 

Krista winced as she heard the boy parroting exactly what she'd told the 
students in her personal hygiene classes just last Wednesday. Any argument 
she advanced now would make her look like a hypocrite in Robbie's eyes and 
destroy all the improvements she'd observed in his personality in the past 
couple weeks. 

"But Robbie," she began weakly, "I was speaking about people who are the 
same age. I mean ..." 

"What the hell does age have to do with it?" A resentful frown clouded his 
handsome young face. "It's how you feel that counts, if you're being honest. 
How could you say you want to be my friend when you really only want to be a 
teacher? Why'd you lie to me?" 

Stinging tears pricked at Krista's eyes at this accusation, and without 
thinking what she was doing she reached out to stroke Robbie's flushed face. 

"I do want to be your friend, and I wasn't lying to you!" she whispered. 
"Please believe me, Robbie. Please!" 

The ardent teenager, encouraged by his teacher's emotion-charged words and 
further aroused by the urgent lurchings of his eager young penis, once more 
reached out and drew Krista's voluptuous body into his arms. The slacks and 
sweater she wore were so tight-fitting that he could distinguish every curve 
of her lust-inspiring figure, and his desire flamed to a raging furnace of 
implacable passion. 

"Shit, Miss Morrisson!" he gasped into the softness of her flaxen curls. 
"You make me feel better than I ever did before. Honest!" 

The young teacher shivered as irresolvable questions whirled through her 
brain. One part of her mind urged her to put an end to this illicit 
relationship at once, but a far stronger impulse so forcefully challenged 
this that she remained paralyzed in indecision. I'm damned if I do, and 
damned if I don't! she thought wildly. Maybe a little kiss doesn't hurt 
anything, but who knows where it'll lead? Remember the last time. . . 

"Oh, God!" she moaned helplessly, remembering the feel of her young 
student's potently pulsating penis from the time before. He was pressing 
closer and closer . . . any minute now she'd once again feel that wonderful 
boyish hardness rubbing against her trembling thighs. Each second that she 
allowed him to stimulate her was only making it more difficult to consider 
the situation rationally, and she could feel every nerve in her frustrated 
body screaming for release from the tension that consumed her. 

"What's the matter," Robbie's low voice hissed in her ear. His tongue darted 
out to wetly caress her sensitive earlobe, and then he added, "You feel 
good, too, don't you? Don't you?" 

"Ohhhhh," the confused schoolteacher whimpered, and then suddenly the 
barriers which for years had held back the expression of her deepest, most 
vulnerable emotions began to crumble. "Ohhh yes! YES! It's good, Robbie! God 
forgive me, but it's wonderful!" 

From Krista's earliest years, her hard-working, God-fearing mother had 
instilled certain ideas in her daughter's subconscious. Women must be 
strong, self-reliant; they must never allow themselves to become vulnerable; 
and above all, they must not degrade themselves by expressing uncontrolled 
emotions. By the age of nine or ten, the sensitive young blonde had learned 
to repress all outward display of joy or despair, and the passion that 
surged through her now gave her an extraordinary sense of emancipation. 

Perhaps, she reflected in a sudded flash of insight, I'm not only helping 
Robbie. . . he's helping me understand about the fullfillment of love, too. 
I feel so much for him - and I want to express it. 

As Krista stood pondering these newly formulated ideas, her innately 
sensuous body relaxed against her young student's pressuring loins. His 
throbbing male thickness thrust against the tight crotchband of her 
rust-colored slacks, but, as before, she felt none of the repugnant fear 
she'd experienced during her brutal defloration. 

I don't care if it's wrong, her lust-bewildered mind cried as the well-built 
teenager gently pushed her limp, unprotesting form down onto the soft 
lakeside grass. I want to feel his little boy penis inside me. I'm happier 
right now than I've ever been - and I won't even think about tomorrow. 

"I want to love you, Robbie," she cried impetuously. "Oh, God - I want you! 
I need you." 

Robbie's heart leapt in excitement at his teacher's wanton words, and he 
suddenly lost all sense of restriction. As his eager adolescent hands 
clutched frantically at the older woman's ripened breasts, a fleeting 
remembrance of one of his mother's lewd performances flickered across his 
brain. He'd hated his mother as he watched her groan beneath some strange 
man's ravishing tongue, but he knew that when he transformed Krista 
Morrisson into a similar mass of vulnerably pleading feminine flesh, it 
would be a beautiful rather than an ugly scene. 

I'll show her I'm a man, he thought. A real man! His impatient, 
inexperienced fingers tore at the complicated fastenings of her tailored 
trousers, then, acknowledging defeat, began rummaging up underneath her 
sweater. 

"Oh, shit!" he exclaimed in shamed frustration. 

Suddenly, as much to Krista's astonishment as to her young pupil's, the 
voluptuous young woman rose to her feet and began to pull up her sweater. A 
provocative smile appeared on her normally innocent face as she inched the 
tight turtleneck up over her proudly straining breasts and off over her 
involuntarily crimsoning face. With a defiant tug, she wrenched her sweater 
away and tossed it on the grass. 

"There you are, little lover," she murmured in a husky, sensuous tone that 
rang grotesquely in her own ears. "Do you like my breasts . .. take them in 
your mouth . . . kiss them ... kiss my nipples!" 

Robbie hesitated a brief second, so shocked by Miss Morrisson's sudden 
transformation into a nakedly provocative sex goddess that he could hardly 
believe this was real. His wondering dark eyes bugged from their sockets as 
he gaped up at his voluptuous teacher, and his turgid young penis lurched 
with alarming impatience. 

When the youth failed to respond at once to her wantonly erotic invitation, 
Krista, correctly ascertaining that her bold overture had overwhelmed him, 
knelt down on the cool grassy bank. The twin mounds of her proudly uplifted 
breasts, cream-white in vivid contrast to her sun-tanned shoulders and 
torso, danced mere inches before his incredulous eyes, and without waiting 
another moment he thrust out his pink tongue and tasted, for the first time 
in his fourteen years, the satin-smooth elasticity of a woman's breast. 
Encouraged by her shiver of excitement, he licked experimentally over the 
pale brown areola surrounding his teacher's rose-pink nipple, then carefully 
planted a moist kiss on the quivering bud itself. 

"Ooohhhhh," whimpered the half-naked blonde. "Oh yes, Robbie, yesssss!" 

His initial timidity conquered, Robbie Blair began tonguing first one 
perfectly rounded breast, then the other, till both nerve-filled nipples 
stiffened and hardened into two bright red berries. Unable now to control or 
disguise her shameful delight, the pleasure-tormented blonde moaned under 
her breath and tangled her fingers in the eagerly sucking youngster's soft 
hair. 

"Wow, Miss Morrisson," Robbie peered up at his teacher's lust-contorted face 
from between her two heaving breasts, his own expression strangely altered 
by his passion. "I never touched a woman's breasts before - they feel so 
wonderful!" 

"Really?" Krista sounded surprised. From the wild tales with which the boy 
had entertained room 901 during the first few weeks of school, she'd thought 
for sure that his sexual experience was considerable and of the most basic 
sort. "This is the first time . .. ?" 

"No kidding," Robbie's voice was muffled as he licked almost reverently at 
the warm resiliency of the kneeling woman's flesh. "Oh, sure, I've squeezed 
Ginny Bromley a few times, but she's just got little tits, not as big as 
yours. And I've seen my mother..." His tone grew suddenly contemptuous. "But 
hers are so big they flop all over the place. She wants to go to some dumb 
place in L.A. so they won't sag any more. Costs nine hundred bucks. That's 
all she talks about anymore." 

"Oh, Robbie, Robbie," Krista murmured compassionately. She bent over to kiss 
her favorite student's wavy dark brown hair, once again oversome with pity 
for his unwholesome home life. 

"But you're different," the teenager continued, growing unexpectedly honest 
in the throes of his intense passion. "You're prettier than any of the 
pictures in those magazines. I wish I could see you without any clothes on . 
. . see your legs ..." 

It's insane! Krista's confused thoughts churned wildly. I can't allow it! 

But even as the warning resounded through her lust-befuddled brain, she'd 
moved from the boy's erotically titillating mouth and slowly begun to unzip 
her wool trousers. Fiery fingers of sensual excitement flickered from the 
top of her head to her involuntarily curling toes as she eased her 
well-rounded hips and sculpted legs out of the orange pants and kicked off 
her fashionable Swedish clogs. Although she shuddered with horror at her 
wanton performance, it was simply too late to stop. 

I know I'm committing a terrible sin, her mind cried. But I don't care! The 
only thing that matters is that Robbie feels happy, understands about love 
in a good way. And that I act honest with him . . . honest with myself.. . 

"Here you are, Robbie," she said proudly, a sudden spurt of rebellious 
triumph against all the precedents of her ultra-proper upbringing rushing 
through her bloodstream. "Here's my body - all for you!" 

Sinking her bikini panty-clad body back down onto the soft lakeside grass in 
a deliberately wanton spreadeagled position, Krista thought, I'm free! I'm 
doing exactly what I want to do. . . making Robbie happy, and expressing my 
own emotion in a way I never could before. And it's good - it's good because 
he needs me, and I need him - and we really care! 

The newly awakened twenty-three year old's eyelids flickered shut as she 
felt her teenage lover's warm lips tremulously caressing her naked breasts 
again, then gliding down over the flat plane of her belly till he reached 
the barrier of her modest white cotton panties. His wetly flicking tongue 
caused her tautened stomach to churn with a never-before-experienced carnal 
craving, and she opened her eyes again in a sudden reckless urge to watch 
the full extent of her depravity. 

Robbie's tousled dark head raised from his teacher's naked loins to meet her 
gaze. From the prurient gleam of lust in his large brown eyes, the 
understood that he yearned to remove her panties, but was afraid to offend 
her. Oh God! her mind wailed. If I take off my panties, will he want to kiss 
me down there? 

Although she'd learned from her extensive sexual research of the past month 
that there was nothing unsanitary or abnormal about cunnilingus or even 
fellatio, long years of conditioning made it difficult for the inexperienced 
blonde to regard oral sex as anything but dirty and perverted. Yet despite 
her repugnance, a seed of salacious curiosity was rapidly blossoming inside 
her lust-aching loins. 

If I don't let him, he'll think that a woman's vagina is disgusting instead 
of beautiful, she agonized. I have no right to afflict him with my own 
hang-ups! 

"Do you want to take off my panties, Robbie?" she finally asked in a voice 
that was barely audible against a background chorus of chirping crickets and 
birdsong. "Do you want to see my pussy?" 

"Do I wanna?" the desire-dazed adolescent breathed. "Oh, wow - do I ever!" 

His fingers trembled and his breath came in hoarse gasps as he slid the 
flimsy white material down over his teacher's full-fleshed white buttocks, 
but he never faltered. For a brief second he stared eagerly at the gold 
cornsilk strands of Krista's curling pussy hair, and then, hurriedly tugging 
the panties down over her long smooth legs and tossing them away, he 
impulsively reached out to stroke the sparsely-fleeced "vee" between her 
thighs. 

The discarded panties caught on the brambles of a nearby blackberry bush to 
wave in the breeze like a flag of victory, but neither Krista nor her young 
lover noticed. By now, both were so caught up in the whirling vortex of 
their mutual passion that they were aware of nothing but the thudding beats 
of their hearts and the exquisite erotic fire scorching through their veins. 
As Robbie's tongue timidly snaked out to taste the coral-pink flesh of his 
teacher's shamelessly proffered pussy, he gave a low gasp of delight. 

"Jesus!" he cried excitedly. "You taste so good! I'm so turned on I can't 
stand it!" 

The young blonde quivered at the electrifying contact of the youngster's 
warmly prodding tongue, but she was still enough in control of herself to be 
aware of his bulging penis pressing impatiently against her naked leg. He 
mustn't ejaculate in his jeans again, her mind raced deliriously. It'll 
embarrass him too much . . . wound his sensitive ego. 

"Wait, Robbie!" she gasped suddenly. "Stop!" 

"What's wrong?" Robbie's handsome face clouded in fear that she'd changed 
her mind and didn't want him to suck her pussy after all. None of the guys 
in his gang had ever done this, although they talked about it endlessly, and 
he was loathe to relinquish his unexpected opportunity. "Please let me! 
Don't you like it? Am I doing it wrong?" 

Krista choked back a half-hysterical laugh - the teenager's expression was 
so woebegone. 

"You're doing everything just right, Robbie, darling," she reassured him. 
"And I do like it... " Her voice trailed off as she realized in a sudden 
moment of self-knowledge that she did indeed like the feeling of his moist 
tongue lapping at her most intimate flesh. Little by little, her inhibitions 
were miraculously disappearing. 

"But I want you to be naked, too," she continued, feeling strangely excited 
by the sound of her own lewd words. "I want to see your body too ... I want 
to see your long hard penis!" 

Before the teacher's words had left her mouth, the eager adolescent had 
sprung to his feet and was ripping down his fly. He wore no undershorts - 
underwear being considered childish in his particular crowd - so his swollen 
angry-red hardness thrust immediately from his sparse-haired loins in relief 
at escaping from the torturously tight Levi's. In another thirty seconds 
he'd yanked the pants over his feet, kicked off his loafers, and pulled his 
T-shirt over his head. Suddenly redfaced, he stood diffidently before the 
spread-eagled older blonde as though unsure quite what to do next. 

"You've got a beautiful body, Robbie!" Krista spoke sincerely, but she also 
realized that this was what the adolescent needed to hear. "You already look 
like a man! Now, do you want to kiss me - uh - down there again?" 

With a gutteral groan, the lust-crazed youth dropped to his knees between 
the ivory-white thighs of his provocatively positioned teacher. His lips 
played for a moment against the tantalizing softness of her baby-fine pubic 
hairs, and then his hungry tongue once again sought the delicious pinkness 
of her fresh-scented vagina. 

"Ohhhhh yeesssss!" the blonde cooed, temporarily abandoning all lingering 
vestiges of reluctance as an intense spasm of delight coursed through her 
long-frustrated loins. "Good, Robbie!" 

Encouraged, the fourteen year old began to experiment. He knew, from spying 
on his mother's extramarital activities, the basic principles of 
tongue-fucking, but observing and actually accomplishing it himself were too 
entirely different matters. The bittersweet pungency of Miss Morrisson's 
ever moistening cuntal flesh was dizzyingly distracting, and the silken 
warmth of her resilient breasts further overburdened his senses. Half-crazed 
with excitement, he brushed along her delicately quivering cuntal lips in 
search of her clitoris. 

"Go for her clit, man," he recalled being told by Ginny Bromley's older 
brother. "Once you start sucking on that, you've got it made!" 

"Yeah, sure," Robbie had replied, deliberately offhand as he filed this 
useful tidbit of information away for future reference. "Shit, everyone 
knows that!" 

"Yeah, man," the older teenager had sighed, obviously thinking of some 
recent conquest. "The most up-tight chicks go crazy when you go for that 
little button." 

Little button, Robbie's mind thought frantically now as he greedily lapped 
up Krista's copious feminine secretions. He'd been trying to move very 
gently for fear of hurting his teacher and having her put an end to this 
ecstatically erotic act, but as his emotions surged out of control and his 
tongue sank accidentally into the inviting orifice of her tightly clasping 
vagina, he heard a muffled moan of pleasure. 

"Oooohhhhh, darling! That's good . . . sooooo goooddddd!" 

Spurred on by the older woman's obvious enthusiasm, Robbie speared his 
tongue deeper into the damply clinging channel. As he did so, his nose 
inadvertently grazed against his teacher's warmly pulsing clitoris. The 
gasping blonde yelped in ecstatic pleasure, and the boy knew he'd discovered 
his target. 

While trying to control the desperate pulsation of his rampant young penis 
by pressing its swollen length against the older woman's jerking leg, he 
stabbed further into the velvet-soft confines of Krista's vagina, then 
massaged her tautly quivering clitoris with his tingling tongue. The woman's 
voluptuous figure jerked and bucked beneath his lewd ministrations, feeding 
his self-confidence, and his hands rose simultaneously to knead the 
resilient mounds of her heaving breasts. 

"Ahhhh . . . ahhhhhh . . . ahhhhhh..." Krista chanted. 

The hitherto righteously modest blonde was speedily discovering that the 
vagina which she'd so shamefully ignored could be the source of unimagined 
bliss. As Robbie's slaving tongue jabbed first into her throbbing cuntal 
channel, then circled her stiffly erected clitoris, she felt as though she 
were about to explode from the maddening pressure. Deep inside her churning 
belly, a chord of arousal was strumming a pagan drumbeat of passion, and her 
lust-trembling legs slid further apart to allow the adolescent easier access 
to her fire-filled pussy. 

"Aaaahhhh ... oh, God . . . 

AAAAHHHHHH!" she wailed again as her hips began an instinctive undulating 
movement up toward her young student's working mouth. 

It's going to happen! her pleasure-glutted brain screamed as Robbie's 
smoothly spearing tongue sank so deeply into her spasming pussy that his 
nose tantalizingly grazed the nerve-filled nub of her sensitive clitoris. 
I'm going to climax. . . and it's going to be a million times better than 
when I've rubbed my legs together in bed. It's going to be so wonderful that 
I don't know if I can bear it! 

Then, just as Krista felt the first waves of impending orgasm gathering 
force deep within her churning belly, her young student gave a loud, inhuman 
groan and pulled his damply flushed face out from between her weakly 
quivering thighs. At the same time, he relaxed his talon-like grip on her 
straining breasts, leaving her limp and trembling on the grass. 

"Oh no!" she whimpered. "Don't stop, darling! Please don't stop!" 

Robbie rose to his knees, a delirious sense of power surging through him as 
the older woman's helpless entreaty echoed through the peaceful lakeside 
meadow. He'd often been here in this idyllic spot before, dreaming of how he 
would someday ravish a beautiful female - now he was actually doing it! At 
first, he'd felt rather uncomfortably awkward, like a little boy ... but now 
she was begging him! He was really a man! 

"I'm not stopping," he grunted through gritted teeth. "Dontcha worry 'bout 
that." 

"Ohhhhh ... but ... but ... " Krista moaned, opening her gold-flecked brown 
eyes to stare in shameless appeal at her teenage lover. She'd never 
suspected that her traitorous body could be reduced to such a humiliating 
mass of yearning flesh ... 

"Now I'm gonna screw you!" Robbie boldly proclaimed, brandishing his rigidly 
swollen cock-shaft in one had as he eased himself backward into position. 

The boy's obscene cry echoed through the desire-heated blonde's confused 
brain for a moment before its meaning truly registered, but when she finally 
realized how far she'd let things go, a cold sweat broke out all over her 
naked loins. A vivid remembrance of the pain and degradation which Brian 
Degraff's brutally impaling penis had brought her mingled in her brain with 
a sharp reminder of her role as this boy's teacher. It was unheard of to 
make love to one's innocent junior high school pupils - it was even illegal! 

"No. .. w-wait a minute, Robbie!" she gasped in a hoarse voice. "Please . . 
. let's be sensible ..." 

Yet despite her words of protest, the deepest part of Krista's soul knew 
that she would not try to stop Robbie Blair. His sudden metamorphosis into 
manhood had sent her passion swelling to new heights, and her faithless 
loins were demanding release from the erotic yearning that burned through 
them after the boy'd lewd tongue-fucking. Even the unpleasant recollection 
of her cruel defloration was not enough to still the ever-accelerating lust 
that surged like liquid lightning through her veins. 

But it's wrong! she tried to convince herself. Even if it does feel good, 
it's still sinful, immoral! 

"No, pleeeeezzzzzeeee!" she wailed softly as Robbie, too excited to be 
stopped by her protests by now, pressed his throbbing hot penis directly up 
against the well-lubricated mouth of her vaginal opening. "Pleeeezzzzeeee 
..." 

The ardent adolescent paid no heed to his teacher's unconvincing objections. 
He'd held back for as long as possible, relishing the feeling of power he 
achieved as the older blonde writhed beneath his wildly thrusting tongue, 
and also feeling uncertain of her reaction to the final indignity of 
intercourse. Now it was impossible to wait another moment, for his potent 
penis was about to explode. This time, he was bound and determined he would 
be fucking deep into his sensuous Home Ec teacher's enticing little cunt 
when this happened. 

"NOW!" His guttural cry rang out so loudly that a flock of wild ducks 
circling over the small lake sped away startled into the cloudless sky. 
"Gotta do it now!" 

Partly in response to the urgency in her favorite pupil's voice, but just as 
much for the satisfaction of her own compelling lust, Krista unexpectedly 
reached out her arms and pulled the crouching youth's face close against her 
own. 

"All right, darling," she whispered before kissing him. "Make love to me ... 
I want you to do it!" 

The obscene invitation floated back to her own ears as though she were 
dreaming, and she repeated it silently as the groaning adolescent's blunt 
hard cock-head stabbed against her involuntarily tensing cuntal orifice. I 
want you to make love to me. . . it's right that we make love because we 
care about each other.. . I want to feel your little boy cock inside me. .. 

Opening her big brown eyes to give Robbie a tremulous smile, Krista started 
in surprise at the dramatic change that had taken place in his face. His 
eyes gleamed from underneath the disarray of his long dark hair with a wild 
intensity that reminded her again of her erstwhile boyfriend, but instead of 
feeling fear, she was aware only of an implacable excitation. 

"Ohhhhh, Miss Morrisson!" the fourteen year old wailed suddenly as his 
boyish hardness failed to penetrate her tiny cuntal opening. "You're too 
tight! I can't get it in!" 

Krista heard the despair in the sensitive adolescent's outcry, and her own 
fears and doubts vanished completely in the face of his boyish insecurity. 
Maybe I don't know much more about lovemaking than Robbie does, she vowed, 
but I'm going to do my best to make this a beautiful experience for him. 

"Of course you can, Robbie!" she said, her voice much more assured than her 
emotions. His penis, boyishly slender as it was, felt far too large to enter 
her virtually virginal vagina. "Let me help you ..." 

As she spoke, the young teacher reached one trembling hand down between 
their tight-pressed loins to grasp hold of his lustfully stiffened 
thickness. It pulsated against her palm as though with a life of its own, 
momentarily disconcerting the inexperienced blonde, but after a second its 
warm smoothness began to seem sensuous rather than alarming. 

"Your penis feels so good, Robbie," she heard herself whisper. "I want to 
feel it thick and hard inside me." 

Guiding the turgid cock-head toward her unprotected cuntal orifice, Krista 
cautiously inched her pelvis up to meet it. "Come on, darling," she urged, 
despite her own fearful misgivings. "You can doit!" 

Robbie required no further impetus. His self-confidence restored by his 
teacher's encouragement, he glued his mouth to her soft pink lips and 
flicked his muscular hips forward with all the strength in his healthy young 
body. There was an obscene little popping sound as the blood-filled head 
sank an inch into the older woman's straining vagina, and the teenager's 
fingers grasped Krista's firm breasts for support as he continued to press 
downward. 

"Aaaaarrrrrggggghhhhhh," the twenty-three year old blonde winced as her 
pupil's potent penis slid another couple of inches into her torturously 
stretched cuntal passage. 

Yet despite her cry of pain, wisps of dizzying desire were once again 
dancing through her veins. Her abruptly terminated orgasm had left her 
over-stimulated and eager for further erotic attentions, almost as though 
her muscles were striving with a will of their own for climactic release. 

Above the naked schoolteacher, Robbie was grunting and gasping as he forced 
his angry-red rod of flesh inch by inch up into the gradually accepting pink 
folds of her hair-fringed pussy. His eyes bugged from their sockets in 
disbelieving excitement as he watched the tiny orifice sucking in his 
thickly swollen penis - he'd never had an erection this large before! - and 
the pinkly glistening lips of her vagina clasping around him like a flower 
folding up its petals at sunset. 

"Ooohhhh . . . uuuuhhhhh . . . ugggghhhhh ..." he groaned happily. "Ooohhhh 
yeah!" 

Lunging forward one final time just as Krista's ivory-white hips cautiously 
bucked up to meet his impaling penis, Robbie plunged his turgid manhood all 
the way up to the hilt. His blunt-headed cock scraped against his teacher's 
spongy cervix as she winced in agony, then lay pulsating for a moment of 
triumph inside the warm, butter-soft confines of her clinging cuntal 
passage. 

Although tears of pain sprang up in Krista's blindly staring brown eyes, she 
stifled her scream of pain. I must be built wrong, her tortured mind 
despaired, if I'm too tight to take even a young boy's erect penis. But I 
mustn't let him know how I'm suffering, or he'll get the wrong idea about 
lovemaking. 

Robbie hadn't an inkling of the martyred efforts his teacher was making on 
his behalf. As far as he was concerned, this was the most momentous occasion 
of his life, and the heat of his passion blinded him to the anguished 
expression on the blonde's face as she gritted her teeth and clenched her 
eyes shut. This was so different from his first two attempts at fucking a 
female that he could scarcely believe the evidence of his senses. 

"Oh, God, you make me feel so good!" he babbled in a hoarse, strangled tone 
that sounded unfamiliar in his own ears. "So damn good! It's fantastic!" 

When he'd screwed Ginny Bromley standing up in the hallway outside his 
mother's bedroom door, it had happened so quickly that he'd never been quite 
sure whether or not he'd really gotten all the way inside her. The other 
experience had taken place with a buxom eighteen year old counselor at the 
ritzy camp in the Upper Peninsula where his parents shipped him every 
summer. The girl - whose name he'd not even known - had lain limply on the 
sand with her chunky thighs spread wide apart while a queue of preadolescent 
campers spewed their pent-up semen into her cum-flooded vagina. The Blair 
boy had been fourth in line, and by the time he shot his eager load into her 
unresponsive cunt she'd been disgustingly sticky and so stretched that he'd 
remarked afterward, "If that's what fucking's about, I'd rather jerk off." 
Out of some misplaced conception of modesty, the plump counselor had even 
refused to remove her bikini top. 

Not only had those girls' lacked the exquisite elasticity of his Home 
Economics teacher's vagina, which now clasped his pulsating penis like a 
second skin, but - more importantly - he'd known that he was nothing to them 
but another cock. With Krista Morrisson, there was an explosive element 
which he would have called "love" if he'd been pressed to give it a label, 
and this added immeasurably to the intensity of his passion for her 
voluptuous body. She was a real woman, neither nymphomaniac schoolgirl nor a 
mindless whore like his mother, and he felt himself a real man as he let his 
eager virility throb inside her velvet-soft cuntal passage. 

"Is it good for you, too?" he demanded. "Is it? Is it?" Suddenly this was 
very important to him as the fleeting memories of his first sexual escapades 
danced before his eyes. 

"Oh, yes! Yes, Robbie," Krista managed to gasp, though stabbing arrows of 
white-hot flame were searing blistering trails of agony from her violated 
vagina to each and every nerve-ending in her helplessly impaled body. 
Blackness punctuated by flashing red sparks whirled before her tight-shut 
eyes, but she nevertheless felt sincerely gratified by the young boy's 
erotic ecstasy. 

Robbie let out a cry reminiscent of a conquering caveman, wrenched his 
throbbing thickness almost all the way out of the older woman's cock-stuffed 
pussy, then rammed back down with all his might. As her quivering cuntal 
muscles contracted around his spearing hardness, he could feel every vein 
and wrinkle in her deliciously squeezing vagina. Again, groaning in 
triumphant delight, he withdrew and then stroked back down to the hilt so 
that his blood-engorged testicles jounced against her resilient ass-cheeks. 

"Ooohhhhh!" Krista yelped as, to her immense relief, a powerful wave of 
rapture obliterated her initial agony. 

The fear-tensed muscles of her vagina, taut as finely tuned violin strings 
at first, had involuntarily relaxed as she compassionately assured her young 
lover that he was bringing her happiness. Gradually her physical craving for 
the orgasm she'd nearly reached from Robbie's sensuously sucking lips and 
tongue was overcoming her pain, and the unbearable ache inside her 
cock-impaled pussy faded to a dull throb of pleasure-pain. 

"Ooohhhh, Robbie!" she moaned, thrilled to the roots of her being as his 
slender teenage penis adjusted itself to a smooth, age-old fucking rhythm 
which stimulated the flow of her feminine lubricating fluids. "Oh, my 
wonderful little lover! That's the way! Ohhhh, God! YESSSS!" 

For the first time in her repressed twenty-three years, the curvaceous 
blonde schoolteacher understood why lovemaking was regarded as one of life's 
most beautiful experiences. Up until this moment, her underlying fears and 
conditioned moral standards had only allowed herself to accept her seduction 
of her attractive ninth-grade pupil by telling herself it was for his own 
good, but now she recognized that her own long-frustrated erotic need was 
the main impetus behind it all. This insight, rather than shocking the 
no-longer-innocent teacher, strangely exhilarated her. 

"Oh, Jesus!" Robbie cried, excited by the older woman's uninhibited 
admission of passion. "You like the way I'm fucking you, teacher? You like 
my cock in your cunt?" 

The boy dimly realized that he was saying things he might regret on Monday 
morning, but he no longer cared. His swollen testicles were churning with an 
implacable fury as they bounced against Miss Morrisson's crazily undulating 
buttocks, and his immediate interest was only in holding back his 
approaching orgasm for as long as humanly possible. 

She's gotta cum, too, his lust-maddened brain whirled. I gotta see her 
screaming and begging for my cock - I just gotta! 

As if in answer to his unspoken plea, the shamelessly writhing blonde began 
to chant in incoherent delight, then let out a wail as her hands gripped his 
tousled hair and pulled his face close to her own. 

"Oh, God, yes! Fuck me hard, little boy! Harder! Harder! God, I love your 
cock! Oh, make me cum! MAKE MEEEE CUUUMMMMMMM!" 

At the sound of his formerly reserved teacher's keening cry of lust, Robbie 
knew he could hold back no longer. Blood boiled impatiently in his 
adolescent testicles, and blackness swam before his eyes as he grew nearer 
to what he knew would be the most powerful orgasm he'd ever experienced. Yet 
even in the midst of the madly whirling maelstrom which careened through his 
young body, he still remembered that he wanted the voluptuous blonde to 
climax along with him. 

"Can't wait. . . can't wait..." he choked out inaudibly. 

Suddenly his lust-frenzied brain recalled the way his sensual teacher had 
nearly cum when he'd kissed her sensitive clitoris, and in the last moment 
before his overpowering release, he roughly shoved one hand between their 
perspiration-slickened loins to madly tweak and tease at the tiny 
nerve-filled button nestled between her silken-haired pussy lips. 
Simultaneously, he continued his savage thrusts into her dilating cuntal 
passage. 

"Ahhh . . . ohhhhhhh. . . aaaahhhhh Krista babbled in mindless arousal as 
the double stimulation triggered a volcanic wave of sensation deep within 
her insanely thrashing loins. 

This is what life's all about! was the young school teacher's last clear 
thought before the billowing waves of ecstasy which had been building inside 
her merged to a tidal wave which crashed inside her cock-filled vagina. Her 
body seemed to splinter into a thousand rainbow-hued fragments which floated 
weightlessly out above the clouds like some unearthly firework display, 
cascaded back down onto the earth, then rocketed up again as her spasming 
cunt was suddenly drenched in a hot flood of male sperm. 

Student and teacher cried out together in a delirium of passion, their 
shrill voices echoing eerily across the placid waters of the small, 
uninhabited lake. For several timeless minutes their almost inhuman chorus 
of lustful groans shattered the silence of the quiet woods, till finally 
they lay panting in exhaustion in each other's arms. 

Feeling as though she were in the midst of a dream from which she never 
wished to awaken, Krista clung to Robbie's sweat-streaked young body. His 
boyish penis gradually deflated inside her blissfully sated vagina, slipping 
at last out of her sperm-soaked passage with a wetly obscene sluicing sound 
to lie uselessly limp upon her cum-splashed thigh. She never noticed, for by 
this time, they had both fallen into a peaceful post-orgasmic slumber, their 
naked bodies soothed by the unseasonably warm rays of the sinking autumn 
sun. 

An hour or so later, when the shadows were lengthening and the air had grown 
chill, the lovingly entwined couple regained consciousness. For a long 
moment teacher and student gazed into each other's eyes, not required words 
to express their mutual happiness. The dreamlike quality which had colored 
the entire afternoon prevailed as, laughing softly, they gathered together 
their scattered clothing and made their way back down the narrow forest path 
toward the car. 

This joyous mood continued all the way until they reached the cloverleaf 
where the expressways leading to Toledo, Detroit, Ann Arbor and Jackson met 
in a surrealistic tangle of cement. For this first part of the drive, their 
serenely smiling faces kept meeting in a glance of mutual pleasure as each 
reflected on how the other had subtly changed. Krista's lovely features 
seemed to have acquired a warm, womanly maturity within these short hours, 
as though at long last she recognized and accepted her own feminine 
sensuality; and the hitherto rebelliously negative youngster's features 
seemed to have relaxed into a new expression of confident self-assurance. 

Probably, had they not chanced to meet a familiar well-polished Chevrolet 
with a faulty muffler which they immediately recognized as belonging to 
Principal Preston Harding, this almost magical aura of self-discovery would 
have accompanied them all the way back to Pottawattamie Hills. As it was, 
however, Krista grew tight-lipped and silent after waving and grinning 
woodenly at her superior, while Robbie squirmed in increasing discomfort in 
response to her sudden change in mood. 

"Well, see you Monday, Robbie," the guilty teacher said with false 
brightness as she pulled up before the Blair's dark and silent pseudo-Tudor 
home. The large, obviously empty house looked forbiddingly lonely in the 
gathering dusk, with the tall trees casting ominous shadows across the 
spic-and-span lawn. A brisk wind had sprung up; Indian summer was over for 
this year. But if the pretty blonde schoolteacher was aware of the desolate 
atmosphere, she didn't allow herself to give any indication of it. 

"Uh, g-good night," the teenager stammered uncertainly. 

What had gone wrong? One minute they'd been lovers . . . and the next, she'd 
suddenly changed back into an up-tight adult. 

"Th-thanks for a nice afternoon," he tried again, and then was furious with 
himself for having mouthed a phrase he'd been taught to recite after 
kindergarten birthday parties. 

Krista continued to stare resolutely in front of her, as though the silent 
road ahead held something of immense interest. Her expression was so firmly 
indifferent that the young boy's words strangled in his throat. There was so 
much he wanted - needed! - to say, but somehow speech was impossible. 
Flinging a despairing glance over his shoulder, he sprang across the dark 
lawn as though fleeing from life-sapping Furies, phantoms of death. 

Chapter Five 

"... therefore, the School Board has requested that we all do our part by 
speaking to our pupils about the irresponsibility of vandalism and 
hooliganism this Halloween." 

Krista Morrisson shifted uncomfortably on her metal folding chair and 
stifled a yawn. Why must Principal Harding schedule faculty meetings for 
Friday afternoons? For the past few weeks, ever since that sinfully 
shameless Sunday with Robbie Blair, it had been all she could manage to get 
through the normal work week acting calm and confident. By the last hour of 
the last day of the week, she wanted only to escape from Franklin Junior 
High . . . certainly not sit in a stuffy meeting together with the principal 
whose every glance told her that he knew or at least suspected what had 
transpired that afternoon beside the lake. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Rex Simmons, the shop teacher and 
her one-time ardent suitor leaning unnecessarily close to the substitute 
French teacher as he whispered something into her ear. At least that problem 
seemed to have solved itself, for petite Mile. Delacrois appeared 
inordinately flattered by the sandy-haired Simmons' attention. 

But what about the rest of my problems? she asked herself as the principal 
droned on. My loneliness? My frustration? And poor miserable Robbie Blair? 

"... harrassment of our most respected citizens, not to mention destruction 
of property! Any suggestions from the floor?" 

Oh, God, why doesn't he shut up so we can all go home.' Krista thought 
irritably. But she kept her eyes fixed upon the pot-bellied educator in an 
expression of avid attentivity, for her paranoia was such that she didn't 
dare appear disinterested in his little sermon. 

For the past two weeks or so she'd been uncomfortably aware of his 
speculative gaze - not just leering at her breasts, although he continued to 
do that too - but another sort of look that aroused all the guilt in her 
tortured conscience. When Superintendent Andersen had made his monthly visit 
to Franklin Junior High's classrooms last Thursday, he'd also affixed her 
with the same disturbing stare. 

They all going amazingly smoothly, even room 901, she told herself for the 
hundredth time. They must have heard some awful rumor . . . must suspect my 
perverted tendencies.. . 

Suddenly aware that the room was deathly still and that Harding's beady gaze 
was focused upon her, she heard herself offering a suggestion. 

"Maybe if we - the faculty - offered alternative entertainments to the 
students, they wouldn't feel it necessary to squirt windows with shaving 
cream and smash pumpkins in the streets." 

The nervous young blonde was so surprised at the forceful tone in her own 
voice that she scarcely heard the rest of the discussion. At last, to her 
relief, she saw the other teachers rise and head for the parking lot. 

"Will they never stop coming?" Krista muttered rather irritably as, for at 
least the hundredth time that evening, piping voices outside her front door 
shouted, "Trick or treat!" After about a dozen Camels, three drinks and four 
record albums, Krista was bored to death with Halloween, depressed and 
unhappy at being alone. And with youngsters of every age coming to the door, 
she couldn't get Robbie Blair out of her mind. 

Oh, Robbie! Krista cried in silent despair. 

A vivid image of her handsome young student's darkly sorrowful eyes flashed 
across her brain. The sensitive youngster obviously couldn't understand why 
she had vigorously ignored him ever since that magical Sunday afternoon down 
by the lake when they'd discovered such bliss in each other's bodies. 
Several times he'd even come around to her house, once carrying a large 
bouquet of red roses, but she'd refused to open the door. After he'd seen 
her peeping from behind the curtain, he'd not returned - but each day in 
room 901 he stared at her, his eyes dark pools of bthomless misery, until 
she thought she would scream from frustration. 

"But what else can I do?" she wondered aloud, draining her rum and heading a 
little unsteadily toward the kitchen for another. She had to fall asleep to 
turn off these unbearable thoughts! 

Already she was positive the principal and superintendent suspected her - 
herself from a small town, she knew all too well how rumors got around. Even 
Rex Simmons was giving her peculiar sidelong glances when he wasn't busy 
peering down the front of the new French teacher's frilly blouses. To risk 
another indiscretion was sheer madness, no matter how she yearned to 
recapture the wonderful joy of that reckless afternoon. 

As she moved back toward the living room there was a loud knock on the door 
and a muffled cry of, "Trick or treat!" 

"Not again!" she muttered, flinging open the door as she reached for the 
last of the Mar's Bars. What were their parents thinking of, anyway, to 
allow their children out on the streets this late? 

To her surprise, the sheet-draped figure - who was even taller than she - 
slipped through the door with the alacrity of a World Book salesman. As she 
gaped at the ghost, he suddenly yanked off his white disguise and stood 
smiling impishly at her. 

"Robbie!" she gasped. "Oh, no ... " 

"Yep!" he grinned. "Fooled you that time, didn't I?" Then his voice sobered. 
"I-I brought you something," he said, extracting a large box of expensive 
chocolates from a deceptive orange and black trick or treat bag. "It's Dutch 
chocolate - it's really good. I th-thought you should get some Halloween 
candy instead of always giving it away." 

"Th-that was thoughtful of you, Robbie," Krista stammered, backing away and 
eyeing the lavishly beribboned box as though it were a letter bomb. "But I 
certainly can't accept it. And you must leave - right away. Please!" 

"Why, Miss Morrisson? Why?" the Blaire boy's handsome face wrinkled in a 
frown of acute distress as he took a step toward his voluptuous teacher. 
"Why don't you like me anymore? I-I thought we were friends. . . and I 
thought you had a good time that day we-" 

"Please, Robbie," Krista interrupted. "It's not that I don't like you, but 
we simply can't go on like this. It's too dangerous!" 

"Dangerous?" the teenager seemed genuinely puzzled. 

"Yes, dangerous!" the wretched blonde schoolteacher repeated. "How come?" 

"Oh, God!" Krista cried in despair, throwing up her hands. Although she was 
trying with all her might to suppress her emotions, an undeniable tingling 
sensation had arisen down between her thighs, and her breasts felt suddenly 
swollen. "People are bound to find out!" 

"Who?" Robbie sounded as though he didn't believe a word the older woman was 
saying, and his resentful expression indicated that he felt she was trying 
to get him out of her hair because she disliked him. "Who's gonna know 
unless we tell them?" 

"Somebody . . . anybody . . . everybody ..." 

"Well, so what if they do?" 

He really doesn't understand, Krista thought frantically as she backed 
another step away and stumbled against the wall. How can I explain? 

"I'll lose my job, Robbie," she said in a voice that trembled despite her 
efforts to remain calm. "And I'll not be able to get another. And you'll 
probably be kicked out of school, too. You see? It's simply too risky 
to-to-" 

"Aw, don't worry about that," Robbie's tone was one of utmost confidence. 
"My Dad wouldn't let that happen. Shit, he got me outta bad trouble once 
before, and he can do it again. The State Director of Education owes him a 
favor or something." 

"But, Robbie!" A thin edge of hysteria crept into Krista's melodic voice as 
she felt her panty crotch band involuntarily dampening. "There's a 
difference between a schoolboy prank and breaking the state law, you know." 

"Well, I don't give a damn," the boy insisted. "I know I love you, and 
that's the only thing that matters to me!" 

"Oh, I love you, too!" the agitated blonde teacher cried impulsively, "but-" 

Suddenly, her voice faded away as she realized what she'd admitted, and she 
looked down to the ragged carpet with her cheeks flaming in embarrassment. 
Oh God! What have I said? her tortured mind screamed. I knew I shouldn't 
have drunk so much hot buttered rum! I have to get him out of here fast 
before I lost all my self-control! 

But it was too late! Flinging the ten dollar box of candy onto the telephone 
stand, Robbie reached out and pulled his voluptuous teacher's limply 
trembling figure toward him. For an endless moment they stood staring mutely 
at one another, their eyes glowing with reciprocal desire, and then the 
impetuous adolescent mashed his mouth against his quivering teacher's pink 
lips. 

Just one kiss, Krista's brain rationalized as she responded passionately to 
the boy's obscenely plunging tongue. Then I have to tell him to leave. . . 
Oh God, but I feel good with Robbie, she told herself. Why should I be 
forced to deny it? Perhaps he's right, and I'm all wrong for worrying about 
idiots like Principal Harding when I should be rejoicing in having 
discovered love at last. 

"Listen!" Robbie whispered into the warm receptive cavern of the blonde 
schoolteacher's soft mouth. "That's what I wanna say, but that song says it 
better than I ever could . .. 

"Now I know why I've found the answer for myself What a day it would be to 
share To share your love. . . 

They both listened intently to the music for a minute, their fire-filled 
loins pressed together in urgent desire. In this moment of what Krista 
considered perfect communication, she :emporarily overlooked the ludicrous - 
at least in the eyes of Pottawattamie Hills' conservative society - 
discrepancy in their ages and positions. 

Have I found the answer? she asked herself, but it was merely a rhetorical 
question which her passion-yearning body had already decided for her. 

"This is an outtasight album," the teenager murmured indistinctly as he ran 
his tongue along the older woman's pearl-white teeth. "I got it at home, 
too. It's great that we dig the same music, don'tcha think?" 

Yes, Krista did indeed think so, but at the moment she was too overcome with 
the immensity of the choice she'd made that she was unable to utter a sound. 
An awesome sense of relief shuddered through her desire-aroused loins as she 
vowed that, evil though she might appear in the eyes of others, she was 
going to be true to herself. 

The joyously embracing young couple was so caught up in their intimate 
romantic reconciliation that they failed to hear the crackling noises 
outside the uncurtained picture window, even when one of the three 
astonished teenagers crouching there clumsily tripped over his long white 
sheet and tumbled into a neatly raked pile of rustling oak and elm leaves. 
Picking himself up in time to see the voluptuous blonde leading their friend 
toward the couch and unbuttoning her silky white blouse, he gaped at the 
others in wide-eyed amazement. 

"So that's how come Robbie's been acting so weird tonight," Charlie 
Cartwright adjusted the eyeholes of his sheet to better observe the 
salacious spectacle. "Jeez! Who'd ever have thought Blair had a thing going 
with sexy Miss Morrisson? Unreal!" 

"Lookit that!" Tow-headed Phillip Larsen shoved his look-alike brother Glen 
in the ribs. "Shit! I don't believe it!" 

"Shut up!" Glenn hissed. "Don't let 'em hear you, you dope! I wanna get a 
good look at this!" 

The younger boy glared resentfully at his brother, wishing as he often had 
in the past that he'd had the good fortune to be eighteen months older and 
two inches taller than his sibling. Nevertheless, he fell quiet, perhaps 
more eager than the rest to see what would transpire, for his secret cross 
was that he was still a virgin. 

Kneeling rather awkwardly among the dead leaves, the three sheet-draped 
teenagers stared in wide-eyed envy as their curvaceous Home Ec teacher, now 
clad only in a sheer white lace brassiere and matching bikini panties, knelt 
down on the rug beside the sofa and removed their still-seated friend's 
jeans and pullover sweater. 

"Ooooh," Phillip couldn't help gasping in grudging arousal as Robbie Blair's 
almost man-sized erection jutted from his sparse-haired loins. 

If only mine were that big. . . he thought wistfully. 

Immature as it was, his eager penis - like those of his brother's and their 
friend Charlie's - instantly began to swell and throb at the sight of 
Krista's magnificent feminine figure. The youngest boy had never before seen 
a flesh and blood naked female, and the other two had only seen Robbie's 
mother. Although they were not technically virgins, thanks to the always 
compliant Ginny Bromley who'd dropped her little panties and raised her 
miniskirt for them in the Larsen's backyard treehouse one summer afternoon, 
neither of them really had the slightest inkling what sex was all about. 

Completely forgetting that they'd planned to smash every pumpkin they could 
get their hands on in Superintendent Andersen's well tended garden, the 
three sex-obsessed adolescents watched in mounting excitement as their Home 
Economics instructor provocatively stripped off her brassiere and panties 
and then pulled their equally naked friend down beside her on the floor. 
Three prominent protrusions appeared in the front of their improvised ghost 
costumes, and their harsh breathing could be heard even above the blustering 
gusts of autumn wind. 

"Wow!" Phillip exclaimed as, after a tender exchange of words interspersed 
with ardent kisses, the schoolteacher positioned herself so that her 
pink-fleshed vagina was glistening directly above her young lover's eager 
face. Her own lush red hps were poised in obvious intent over the youth's 
upthrusting cock-shaft, and there was a gleam of aniticpatory excitement in 
her wide brown eyes. 

"Shut up, you asshole!" Phillip's older brother hissed in a strangely choked 
voice. 

Phillip never even felt Glen's vicious kick on his shins, for his entire 
attention was devoted to the erotic tableau taking place mere feet from 
where they crouched. He'd heard about such sexual practices - they all had, 
of course - but the passionate frenzy with which the naked couple licked and 
sucked at each other's most intimate flesh filled the watching teenager with 
jealous awe. Robbie Blair, they each decided separately, was a real bastard 
for not even telling them about his surprising secret sex life. 

By the time the sweat-slick bodies of the older woman and adolescent male 
had begun spasming and jerking in the throes of violent orgasm, the hotly 
aroused teenagers outside the window were half-insane with desire. As little 
rivulets of his best friend's sticky white sperm started trickling from the 
corners of Miss Morrisson's cock-bloated cheeks and their ecstatic moans 
grew so loud they could be heard through the double glass of the storm 
window, Charlie Cartwright jumped to his feet. 

"It's not fair!" he exclaimed, too excited now to care whether or not he was 
overheard. "Blair's a motherfucking bastard, that's what he is! How could he 
be screwing the sexiest teacher in the school and not even tell us?" 

Glen Larsen nodded in fervent agreement. "Yeah, what's the point of being a 
gang if you keep secrets like that? It's really rotten of him!" 

The three youths, together with two other ninth graders whose more 
surveillant parents had refused to let their sons out of the house, had been 
members of a tight-knit group for over five years now. They trusted each 
other implicitly and shared every scrap of lurid sexual knowledge they 
happened across. Robbie, though the tacitly acknowledged leader of the gang, 
was certainly not exempt from their ideals of total honesty and unilateral 
togetherness. 

"It's unjust!" Charlie sputtered, sounding for all the world like his 
father, a prominent Toledo attorney. "I think it's time we put a stop to 
this. Either we all get to screw Miss Morrisson, or he hasn't got any right 
to!" 

The dark-haired fourteen year old strutted determinedly toward the 
schoolteacher's front door, his white ghost costume flowing ludicrously 
behind him in the brisk night breeze. Without a moment's hesitation, Glen 
Larsen followed suit, and after a last lingering glance at the lust-sated 
bodies collapsed on the floor inside the living room, his bemused younger 
brother scurried after them. 

The apartment door was unlatched, for Krista, having been brought up in 
Virginia farm country where neighbors were virtually part of the family, had 
never even paused to consider that any danger might lurk in Country Club 
Hills' suburban streets. Buoyed up with their righteous indignation and an 
overwhelming sexual appetite which blurred the normal boundaries of 
student-teacher relationships, the sheet-draped adolescents strode without a 
single qualm into the dimly-lit little living room. They stood side by side, 
menacing the blissfully unaware couple like three solemnly accusing Roman 
Senators. 

"Oooohh, that was lovely, darling," the newly uninhibited schoolteacher was 
cooing as she massaged Robbie Blair's deflated cock with both slender white 
hands. "Now, do you want to put it in my pussy?" 

Suddenly the front door, which the angry youths had accidentally left open, 
slammed shut in a burst of wind which sent a flurry of dry brown leaves 
scattering over the worn carpet. 

Krista's head jerked up from her young lover's exhausted loins in shocked 
surprise, but she was still so dazed from the miraculous discovery of 
cock-sucking and from her own stupendous orgasm that her only initial 
thought was, Oh, yes, it's Halloween, isn't it? 

It took another thirty seconds for the bewildered twenty-three year old 
blonde's head to clear enough for her to wonder why on earth the trick or 
treaters had entered her home uninvited. And I'm stark staring naked! she 
was suddenly panic-stricken. And Robbie, too! Oh, my God in heaven! What 
will these innocent children tell their parents? 

"Robbie!" she gasped. "Oh, Robbie! Look! LOOK!" 

He gaped up at her, his wide, startled eyes still glazed with blindly 
mindless lust. In the same instant, she realized that the ghost-costumed 
figures were far too tall and burly to be neighborhood kids and that crying 
out to Robbie for help was incongruously ridiculous. She was responsible for 
allowing them both to fall into this bizarre situation, and she alone would 
have to do the explaining to the authorities. In her extreme paranoia, the 
guilty teacher believed the unrecognizable sheet-draped figures to be those 
of the principal and superintendent. . . and perhaps Rex Simmons whose 
amorous attentions she'd rudely rebuffed ... or maybe an irate parent... 

"Huh?" Robbie's tousled brown head raised itself from his teacher's sperm 
and saliva streaked vagina with obvious reluctance. When he saw his three 
friends - whom he recognized instantly - his naked body froze in anger. 

"What the fuck are you guys doing her?" he demanded. This was his scene - 
the best thing that had ever happened to him in his entire fourteen years - 
and they had no right to come barging in like this! 

"We figured," said Charlie Cartwright, coolly confident, "that if we were 
really pals like we've always said, you'd have let us have a piece of the 
action. Since you were too much of a shithead to do that, we're here to 
claim what's due us." 

For one crazy moment, Krista was so relieved to discover that the intruding 
apparitions were Robbie's friends rather than her employers that she was 
tempted to giggle. The three of them looked so absurd as they squinted 
through the jagged holes in their grass and dirt stained sheets! Then, as 
her eyes caught sight of the thickly throbbing bulges down where their 
energetic adolescent erections lurched against their makeshift costumes, her 
mirth abruptly vanished. 

Oh, no! the horrified schoolteacher wailed in silent shame. What a shocking 
spectacle I've made of myself! How can I ever show my face in Franklin 
Junior High after this? 

"Get the hell outta here!" Robbie commanded in an arrogant voice as the 
blonde woman beside him scrambled frantically for her scattered clothing. 
"This ain't none of your damn business!" 

"Oh, yeah?" Charlie bristled belligerently at his best friend's disdainful 
tone. "Well, I'm making it my business now!" 

The dark-haired adolescent suddenly tore off his grubby sheet, and the 
teacher couldn't repress a gasp of dismay as she saw the bestial rage etched 
on his round freckled face. By now, her fingers were shaking so nervously 
that she couldn't fasten the metal hooks and eyes of her lacy brassiere. 

"I'm the leader!" came Robbie's angry retort. "And I say, piss off! Miss 
Morrisson and I have better things to do than talk to you kids!" 

"Like screwing?" Glen Larsen guffawed, tugging off his own sheet. 

"And who the hell says you're the leader?" Charlie sneered. "I'm as big as 
you are - bigger where it really counts! 

For the five years in which Robbie and Charlie had been close friends, the 
shorter, plumper boy had ardently admired his more daringly rebellious 
companion. Recently, however, the freckled boy's baby-fat had hardened into 
manly muscles, and he'd shot up six inches in as many months. Most 
importantly, as far as the boy was concerned, Charlie Cartwright was now the 
proud possesser of the longest and thickest cock in the entire ninth grade. 
His resentment against Blair, which had been smoldering for months, had 
exploded at last. No one was going to boss him around anymore, especially 
not his best buddy! 

"Bug off, motherfucker!" Robbie shouted, leaping to his feet. The last 
insult had hit too close to home, and he was really furious. Fists clenched 
at his sides, he glared at his freckle-faced friend. 

"We're not going nowhere till we get what we came for!" Cartwright stood his 
ground. 

"Ya wanna fight or something?" Robbie's challenge ran out loud, but his 
teacher could see from the nervous way his eyes flickered over the three 
other boys that he knew perfectly well he was outnumbered. The Larsen 
brothers, trained by their violent quarrels between themselves, had the 
reputation for being excellent fighters. 

Krista's heart ached with pity for her young lover. Still continuing her 
futile attempts to fasten her brassiere, she rose shakily to her feet to 
stand beside him. 

"Boys, boys," she urged. "Let's be sensible about this. Why don't we - uh - 
get dressed and - and - I'll make some cider, and we can - uh - talk about 
things ..." 

Her voice trailed off as she heard how ludicrous her own words sounded. This 
can't be happening! she thought wildly, once again wishing she'd not downed 
so many hot buttered rums so that at least she'd be able to think clearly. 

"We don't want no cider - we want sex!" Charlie was feeling so egoistical by 
this point that all his usual restraints vanished. "And we don't want you to 
get dressed - take off that bra again!" 

"Shut up!" Robbie cried. "Don't talk to Miss Morrisson like that!" 

"Look, I'm horny, man. You got your kicks - and now it's our turn to get 
ours." His long cock pulsed painfully against his Levi's, adding vehemence 
to his next words. "And if I don't get a chance to screw our teacher," he 
affixed Krista with a level-eyed stare that made her wince in sudden panic, 
"then everybody in town's gonna know 'bout this by Monday morning. And 
that's a promise!" 

"Yeah! Screw!" the younger Larsen boy picked up the only word of Charlie's 
threat that made any difference to him. Ripping off his sheet at last, he 
stared at his voluptuous Home Ec teacher's voluptuously exposed body in avid 
hunger. "This sure beats smashing pumpkins!" 

"Shut up, ya punk!" his brother flung over his shoulder. "Whadda you know 
about fucking?" 

"More'n you do, I bet!" the twelve year old lied bravely. 

Krista paid no attention to the siblings' quarrelsome interchange. She stood 
frozen in fear, her unfastened white brassiere dangling loosely from her 
sloping shoulders, her hands crossed in a useless gesture of modesty over 
the honey-gold curls of her pubic mound. As Charlie's hard words echoed 
again and again through her bewildered mind, alcoholic clouds swirled like a 
rose-tinted kaleidoscope before her dazed eyes. 

I have to find some way out of this mess! she told herself frantically. Some 
way that'll save my reputation and salvage Robbie's pride. . . 

Her troubled brown eyes turned toward her favorite pupil, noting that 
despite the proud thrust of his naked shoulders, his face was shadowed with 
crestfallen hurt as both his friends and the purity of his first real love 
fell by the wayside. Every sweat-slickened muscle of his classically 
sculpted male figure was tensed in barely controlled rage . . . except his 
previously potent penis, which now dangled uselessly between his 
sparse-haired thighs. 

"All right boys," she began, the words flowing from her lips before she'd 
actually decided what she should say. "We're all friends, right?" 

Charlie and Robbie glowered at each other resentfully, but she ignored them. 
Her head was so full of madly churning emotions that for the moment it was 
impossible to consider anything but some escape from this intolerable 
situation. I can't possibly make love to these strange boys, she agonized, 
ignoring the fluttering fingers of excitement that crawled up her spine at 
the obscene idea. It's too perverted! Being with Robbie in private was 
excusable because we love each other - but imagine doing it in front of 
others! It's horrifying enough that I'm naked like this! 

Yet, when she spoke, the distressed young blonde's words were in direct 
contradiction to her silent reservations. Staring intently into each boy's 
eyes, she slowly and provocatively removed her brassiere to display her 
vulnerable, yet nevertheless proudly held nakedness to their admiring gaze. 

"We're all friends here," she repeated, "and I want us to stay that way. 
Now, if you boys really want to make love to me that badly . . . well ... I 
think Robbie will understand ..." 

Krista's gaze focused on the naked youngster beside her, inwardly begging 
him to understand that her feeling for him was special, and that what was 
transpiring now was only due to dire necessity. Or was it? Undeniable pangs 
of wanton arousal surged through her veins at the mere thought of the 
forbidden act she was suggesting, and a tiny droplet of feminine fluid 
seeped down into her already matted cuntal curls. 

Am I one of those perverted exhibitionists? she worried. Some sort of kinky 
sex freak? No! I won't think of it in that ugly way. I'll try to believe 
that I'm sharing what I have to give as a woman with these innocent boys. . 
. maybe that way I can bear the humiliation. God! I hope Robbie understands. 

"I'd like to - to teach you boys about making love," she said suddenly, 
surprising even herself. 

And teach myself about giving love. . . she pondered, closing her eyes as 
her mind began once again to spin in crazy configurations of color. Only 
when the ominous metallic sound of a zipper being pulled down invaded her 
bewildered consciousness did she open her eyes to see Charlie Cartwright, 
naked as the day he was born, advancing toward her. Once again, she shot a 
chagrined glance toward Robbie, but his scowling gaze was glued to a worn 
spot on the flowered carpet. 

When the well-built youngster who intended to degrade her in front of his 
classmates had drawn so close that his boyish odor of fresh earth and dog 
hair faintly tinged with Ivory soap teased at her wrinkling nostrils, the 
nervous teacher's eyes pivoted toward him. Completely naked save for a thin 
string of multi-colored beads around his neck and an expensive wrist watch 
on one arm, he moved so near that his jutting, angry-red cock-head grazed 
against her churning white belly. In the background, she was dimly aware of 
the other boys' quickened breathing. 

God! The teenager's penis looked enormous! Surely it was even bigger than 
her old boyfriend Brian's punishing rod of flesh, or at least it appeared so 
in contrast to Charlie's still immature physique. Her pretty face turned 
bright red as the rubbery heat of Charlie's swollen head touched her naked 
flesh, and she shuddered as arrows of electric intensity shot up and down 
her spine. 

"Do you like it?" the freckle-faced teenager leered. I heard ya tell Robbie 
you were still hot for a cock in your cunt - think this'll do the job?" 

The fair-haired schoolteacher flinched at her pupil's obscenely insulting 
words, but she was suddenly aware that behind the tall teenager's facade of 
bravado, he was really seeking reassurance. His precociously developed penis 
was a symbol of his budding manhood, and she instinctively sensed that by 
admiring them she would be giving his adolescent ego a much-needed boost. 

"It's certainly a very nice penis, Charlie," she said rather primly. "So 
long and thick ..." 

The youngster's face lit up with pride, and to Krista's astonishment she saw 
her own hand reaching out to gently caress the hardened male thickness. The 
smoothly pulsating flesh felt heavy and warm in her palm, and to her 
surprise, she felt that her initial shameful trepidation being rapidly 
overpowered by a curiously compelling desire. 

I'll take him in my mouth, just like I did with Robbie, she decided, pleased 
with her plan. In some peculiar way, the degradation of sucking one little 
boy's turgid cock while she could still taste his best friend's drying sperm 
on her lips filled her with an obscene excitement. This way, too, she would 
not have to suffer the agony of having that enormous flesh cudgel ramming 
into her tight, scarcely used vagina, and Robbie would have the satisfaction 
of knowing that he still was the only one who'd actually entered her. 

And the other two probably just wanted to watch, she told herself in a burst 
of misguided optimism. 

Giving the teenager's burgeoning cock a gentle squeeze and staring directly 
into his lust-sparking hazel eyes, she spoke to him in a voice which had 
unintentionally sunk an octave to become a husky, seductive purr. 

"Do you want me to suck your nice hard penis, Charlie? Would you like that?" 

The Cartwright boy felt as though his potent young cock was going to explode 
right here and now beneath Miss Morrisson's softly caressing fingers which 
would severely damage his newly forming reputation. With an effort, he 
pulled away from the lovely naked blonde and stood staring first at her 
invitingly smiling pink lips then at his best friend. Robbie, who'd slumped 
down on the couch in defeat as Charlie began pulling off his Levi's, was 
obviously furiously jealous despite his efforts to appear nonchalant. 

Serves him right, the bastard! Charlie gloated. 

Although he was loathe to relinquish this rare opportunity to have his 
painfully pulsating penis sucked, his longing to impress the friend who'd 
betrayed him was even more intense. He was going to fuck the Home Ec 
teacher's enticing blonde-fringed pussy, something he felt certain no other 
male in Franklin Junior High had ever done. 

"Nah," he said to the provocatively poised teacher. "Cock-sucking's okay, 
but I'm gonna stick it in where a man's cock really belongs - in your 
pussy!" 

Out of the corner of his eye, Charlie could see his dark-haired friend's 
naked body stiffen and jerk in anger. It annoyed him very much to see his 
best buddy's loyalty to the gang vanish just because of some broad, 
especially when adults had been their sworn enemies ever since they'd been 
old enough to see which way the wind was blowing. Now, Robbie was acting 
like he was in love or some sappy thing like that. As far as the 
freckle-faced schoolboy was concerned, screwing was one thing - and a pretty 
super thing at that - but getting all starry-eyed like the stupid 
old-fashioned poems they had to read for literature class was quite another. 

"Oh!" Miss Morrisson's low gasp interrupted the youth's irritated reverie. 
"Oh, no, I-I don't th-think that's a very g-good idea, Charlie." 

Anger at his friend and the impatient ache in his proudly jutting penis 
caused the husky teenager to reply more sharply than he'd ordinarily have 
dared. 

"I'm the one who says what we do!" he announced. "Now lie down, teacher, or 
else I'm gonna do what I said before and tell everyone in Pottawattamie 
Hills that you're making it with Robbie Blair. And my Dad says it's against 
the law until you're sixteen, so there!" 

Krista knew that the state legal age of consent had recently been lowered to 
fifteen, but it didn't seem the right moment to correct her student's 
information. All of them are fourteen or even less, anyway, she thought 
dully as she obediently sank down on her well-worn carpet. She's fallen onto 
her stomach, unconsciously wanting to hide her shame-flushed face from the 
four pairs of young eyes, but a moment later she realized she'd made a grave 
tactical error. 

Charlie, after one hungry look at his Home Ec teacher's ripely rounded 
buttocks jutting pertly toward him, sank to his knees and dug his eager 
fingers into the resilient softness of the twin mounds. Jees! He couldn't 
believe he was actually touching his teacher's firmly rounded white 
ass-cheeks! 

"Oh, no! No! I can't!" Krista moaned into the rug, suddenly panic-stricken 
at the thought of Charlie Cartwright's man-sized phallus. "It's too big! 
Please!" 

The teenager gave a triumphant grunt of triumph, and his wantonly sprawled 
teacher suddenly realized that he'd taken her plea as a compliment. 
Sympathetic compassion surged through her, obscuring physical fears and 
shame, as she considered what a precious gift she could give the handsome 
youngster. By hiding her agony and pretending to enjoy his lovemaking, she 
had the power to ease him into self-confident maturity. 

"Whatcha doin', Charlie?" Phillip Larsen queried in a shrill voice. Both he 
and his older brother had advanced toward the lewdly positioned couple to 
better observe the salacious spectacle, and Glen's right hand was massaging 
the protruding bulge in his denim jeans. 

"Gonna fuck her dog-fashion!" boasted the naked teenager. "That's what this 
beautiful ass deserves. I read in Penthouse that your prick goes in deeper 
this way." 

"No kidding ..." Phillip's boyish exclamation died away into a low gasp of 
disbelieving excitement as he saw his older friend's hugely swollen erection 
ease its way up between the billowing mounds of his teacher's full-fleshed 
ass-cheeks. The boy's purplish-red cock-shaft, a vivid contrast to Miss 
Morrisson's snow-white skin, pushed its way inward until several inches were 
hidden from the Larsen brothers' fascinated gaze. 

This is impossible! Krista's mind whirled as she felt the heated male weapon 
pushing awkwardly between her trembling thighs. I must be the most wicked, 
perverted woman in the world to allow it to happen! 

Her wide amber eyes popped open to gaze in sudden masochistic arousal at her 
reflected image in the uncurtained picture window. God! What an obscene 
picture she and the naked boy made! Suddenly, beyond all rational reason, 
she knew that she wanted this debased ravishment more than she could ever 
admit, even to herself. She also realized, in a moment of instinctive 
feminine knowledge, that despite the boy's self-confident attitude, he knew 
very little about a woman's anatomy and even less about the techniques of 
mutually satisfying sex. 

Pushing herself up onto her elbows and thereby jutting her perfectly rounded 
buttocks high in the air, Krista reached one trembling hand underneath her 
uplifted loins to clasp Charlie's excitedly but misdirectedly thrusting 
thickness. Overwhelmed by her own audacity, she guided the pulsating flesh 
rod toward the cringing orifice of her vagina. Then muscles tautened in 
dread of the pain which she feared would tear her apart, she held her breath 
and waited for the thick ramrod of flesh to enter her. 

Excited by his teacher's bold gesture, Charlie Cartwright dug his fingers 
into her quivering white ass-cheeks for support and flicked his muscular 
young hips forward with all the pent-up sexual energy in his frustrated 
adolescent loins. Immediately, his fully erect cock speared into Miss 
Morrisson's clasping hot vagina, and for a few seconds he held completely 
still, savoring the wonderful tightness of her firm-muscled cuntal passage. 

"Jesus Christ!" he groaned in ecstasy. "Teacher, your cunt feels so good! I 
never felt nothing so super in my whole life! Does my prick feel good inside 
you?" 

"Uuunnggg," the schoolteacher whimpered, unable to reply. 

Although she was tempted to wail out her anguish, to beg him to remove his 
iron-hard penis from her stretched and burning vagina, Krista instead 
gritted her teeth and vowed to withstand the pain. Actually, although the 
teenager's oversized cock-shaft filled her so completely that she could feel 
every wrinkle and throbbing vein pressing against the walls of her 
fire-filled pussy, the anguish was less than she'd anticipated. Robbie's 
energetic tongue-fucking and her resultant climax a few minutes ago had left 
her cunt well-lubricated and relaxed, easing Charlie's unhesitant entry. 

Half out of his mind now with erotic passion, the freckle-faced teenager 
began a frenzied in and out stroking motion which elicited a low yelp of 
pain from the impaled blonde beneath him. He was pounding into her aching 
cuntal depths like a jackhammer, obviously without giving a thought to the 
woman's pleasure or comfort, in his urgent need to satisfy the burning ache 
in his own fire-filled penis, and his tortured teacher thought she would 
faint as his hard-hitting thickness smashed against her sensitive cervix 
deep inside. 

God, he's going to kill me! her pain-dazed mind shrieked. But he probably 
doesn't know any better. . . 

"Slow down, Charlie!" she gasped. "Slower . . . smoother ..." Though the 
red-hot agony increased as she bucked back to meet his pummeling penis, she 
forced herself to undulate her hips in the sensual rhythmic movement which 
she wanted him to imitate. 

To the cock-impaled teacher's acute relief, the intelligent Cartwright boy 
almost immediately sensed what she wanted him to do. His rock-hard length 
still lunged all the way to the hilt between her responsively churning 
buttocks, but now his strokes were measured, sure. At once the unbearable 
agony in Krista's ravished vaginal passage faded to a rippling throb of 
pleasure-pain. 

"Good, Charlie," she moaned, delighting in the velvet-soft texture of his 
lust-bloated testicles as they slapped in tantalizing tempo against her 
nerve-filled clitoris. "You're fucking me sooo goooddd!" 

The schoolteacher's newfound pleasure in her student's energetic adolescent 
penis had temporarily blinded her to the presence of the two tow-headed 
brothers and her first young lover. When Glen Larsen's voice suddenly rose 
above the lewd chorus of blissful grunts and flesh slapping against flesh, 
her head jerked up in astonishment. 

"I can't stand it!" the husky ninth grader blurted out. His hands suddenly 
began clawing at the zipper of his jeans, and a long, slender penis, fully 
erect and throbbing eagerly, thrust out at a ninety-degree angle from his 
muscular loins. "Can't you suck me off while Charlie screws you, Miss 
Morrisson? Suck my cock like you did Robbie's before?" 

The blond youth's excitement-cracking voice filtered through Krista's 
consciousness as though in a dream, but her reply was a long time in coming. 
When she raised her eyes from the faded flowers of the carpet, the face of 
young Robbie Blair blurred, then refocused before her lust-dazed gaze. 

What does my young lover think of me now? she worried, even as her 
ass-cheeks rotated in wanton circles around the other boy's 
ever-intensifying strokes. Does he consider me a whore like his brother and 
sister? He just has to understand that, even though I love Charlie 
Cartwright's big hard cock pounding into my pussy, the feeling I have for 
him is something special. I can't bear to have him think I'm a hypocritical 
slut. 

Teacher's and student's eyes locked for a long, intense moment, and then 
Krista parted her lush red lips in a loving smile which she hoped against 
hope conveyed her emotions. To her consolation, he flashed her a hesitant 
grin in return. 

"Yeah, Miss Morrisson," he said suddenly. "Suck Glen's prick! Nobody ever 
did that to him before . . . show him how good it feels." 

Her heart singing with joyful relief, Krista turned toward the now-naked 
blond teenager. Running her tongue over her lips in a provocative gesture 
that flooded her with masochistic rapture at her own wantoness, she caressed 
the teenager's boyishly slender penis with hungry eyes. 

"Come over here, Glen," she purred. "Come and kneel in front of me. 

The sex-starved adolescent needed no further urging. Within seconds his 
youthful virility was pulsing an inch away from his teacher's receptively 
parted pink hps, a pearlescent droplet of pre-cum lubrication fluid 
glistening like a precious jewel in the narrow slit of his glans. Awed by 
the delight she was experiencing in her own depravity, the cock-impaled 
blonde darted out her tongue to lap up the pungent-tasting liquid. 

"Ummmm," she murmured huskily. "You taste so gooodd." 

As he watched the older woman's smooth lips ovalling around his turgid 
cock-head to tease at the sensitive foreskin, Glen felt so excited that he 
feared for one dreadful instant that he would cum immediately without having 
enjoyed the feel of a woman's mouth around his almost virginal penis. Only 
the thought of his younger brother's derisive comments gave him the 
willpower to hold back his wildly churning cum. 

"Shit!" he breathed in reverent delight as the rose pink lips slid further 
and further along his fully erect penis. "It feels so good I can't stand it! 

As the boy's hands tangled frantically in the tousled blonde curls of his 
teacher, she sucked the heated cock-shaft so far into her throat that not 
one half inch of angry-red penile flesh was visible to the wide-eyed youth. 
His blood-filled testicles slapped softly against her chin in obscene rhythm 
with the virile thickness ravaging her pleasure-glutted vagina, and her 
cheeks began to hollow and squeeze around the iron-hard rod as she 
uninhibitedly strove to bring the naive youngster to mind-blowing orgasm. 

Look at me! the teacher's brain cried in masochistic delight. Lying naked on 
the floor with teenage boys fucking my cunt and my mouth at the same time! 
And I love it! What if Brian Degraff could see me now? 

"What about me?" a piping voice broke through Krista's obscene thoughts. 
"I'm so horny I'm gonna die! What can I do, teacher?" 

The pathos in the slightly built youth's voice stung at the kind-hearted 
teacher's heart, but she could not answer his urgent question. She tried to 
pull her mouth away from his brother's deeply imbedded cock to murmur, 
"Later, Phillip, darling," but Glen groaned in anguish and roughly yanked 
her head back down against his thickly throbbing penis. 

"Don't stop now!" he wailed. "I'm gonna cum any minute!" 

Once again, Robbie took control of the situation. 

"Get down by your brother, Phil!" he commanded. Krista looked up at her 
favorite pupil with shock-widened eyes, wondering what on earth he had in 
mind. His lovely, long penis, she noticed dazedly was once again throbbing 
stiffly from his loins. 

"Wh-what?" Phillip sounded as perplexed as his teacher felt. 

"Kneel down, I said. Miss Morrisson can suck two cocks at once! Why not?" 

Oh no! Krista thought wildly. This is really going too far! 

Yet despite her misgivings, the sensual blonde schoolteacher found herself 
caught up in the maelstrom of erotic madness. Gripped by an uncontrollable 
masochistic appetite, she began frantically sucking first on Glen Larsen's 
turgid thickness, then on his brother's more slender but also impatiently 
pulsing penis. At the same time she continued thrusting her hips back to 
meet the powerful thrusts of Charlie's relentlessly lunging cock, her wanton 
undulations growing more and more wild as she felt an awesome orgasm 
gathering force deep inside her. 

"Ooooh . . . aahhh . .. ooohhh ..." she chanted in a delirium of bliss as 
the waves of oncoming release broke faster and forcefully over her straining 
flesh. 

"Trick or treat!" called voices from the dorstep, but the only one who heard 
them was Robbie Blair. 

Wisely choosing to ignore them, he turned his full attention back to the 
salacious spectacle of his triple-impaled young teacher wailing and writhing 
in undisguised enjoyment. The last traced of his initial jealousy had 
vanished in his mounting lust, and he'd begun massaging his once again 
erected penis. 

Somehow - Krista never remembered exactly how, when she recalled the 
debauchery of that never-to-be-forgotten Halloween night - both brothers' 
slender young cocks were simultaneously invading her bruised and aching 
mouth. Though the two boys' penises were underdeveloped in comparison to the 
man-like weapon spearing in and out of her spasming pussy, their 
simultaneous penetration stretched her cheeks and lips to the most painful 
limits of endurance. Yet, despite the choking discomfort, the teacher grew 
more aroused than ever by the unspeakable obscenity of the act she was 
performing. 

"AAARRGGHH!" 

Charlie Cartwright's wild shout and the powerful shudder that wracked his 
madly plunging loins told Krista that he was approaching his climax. 

Cum! she thought in passion-crazed bliss. Oceans and oceans of hot little 
boy cum flooding all over me! 

Bucking her perspiration-glistening hips back as hard as she could so that 
the youngster's softly jouncing balls would stimulate her tautly trembling 
clitoris, she prayed that the explosive orgasm building inside her would not 
elude her. Almost unconsciously, she suctioned and squeezed at the two 
pulsating penises in her mouth, employing muscles she'd never before known 
she possessed. 

"Cum in my cunt!" she gasped as she withdrew from the Larsen brothers for 
one brief second to take a deep breath of air. "Cum in my mouth!" Then her 
lewdly ovalled lips plunged back down on their stiffly throbbing young 
cock-shafts. 

The two tow-headed young brothers stared in shocked fascination as their 
teacher, her head still bobbing madly up and down over their inthrusting 
cocks, arched up as though her back were breaking and began to rock like a 
devil-possessed madwoman upon their friend's thickly spewing penis. At the 
lurid sight of his white sperm gushing back out onto the golden cuntal hairs 
between Miss Morrisson's wildly thrashing white thighs, they simultaneously 
released hot floods of long pent-up semen into the wantonly wailing woman's 
gulping throat. 

"I'm cuuummiinngg!" Krista groaned, mindlessly swallowing every possible 
drop of the brothers' heated cum even as she whipped her exploding loins 
back and forth over Charlie's still-ejaculating member. 

"Ohhh, shhhiitt!" The fourteen year old Cartwright boy's bellow blended with 
his teacher's moans of ecstasy and the Larsen brothers' uncontrolled grunts 
and gasps. Her fiercely spasming cuntal muscles were milking his potent 
young penis of every last drop of life-giving seed and rocketing him into 
another reality where there was nothing but throbbing, thrashing flesh and 
an everlasting bittersweet physical fulfillment. 

Krista's eyes bugged from her lust-contorted face as she wallowed in the 
indescribable bliss of her perversely obtained orgasm. With Robbie, her 
release had been tender and beautiful. . . but now that three strange little 
boy cocks were ravishing her at the same time, she'd lost herself entirely 
and become nothing more than a pleasure-maddened receptacle for their fresh 
teenage sperm. 

The passion-submerged teacher was unconscious of anything except the 
blinding waves of joy which broke again and again over her shuddering body 
that she'd entirely forgotten about Robbie Blair. When his boiling hot sperm 
suddenly jetted from the tip of his hand-held penis onto her bucking back, 
she was too far removed from the reality of guilt and morality to feel 
anything but another wanton surge of ecstasy. 

Even later, after the five orgiasts had finally pulled their cum and sweat 
stained bodies from the floor and collected their discarded clothing, Krista 
was unable to feel the slightest twinge of remorse. Her amber eyes locked in 
a glance of loving understanding as the three rather dazed-looking 
youngsters stood by the front door, and she noted with pleasure that after 
their communal ravishment of her willingly offered body, her favorite 
student seemed to have regained his former status with his best friends. 

"C-can we come to see you again, Miss Morrisson?" 

Krista turned her head away from the dark-haired Blair boy to smile tenderly 
down at little Phillip Larsen. 

"Of course, darlings ..." she murmured. 

"And can Jeff and Mark come, too?" Robbie asked. "They shoulda come tonight, 
really, 'cause they're part of the gang." 

"Oh, no!" Krista's mind suddenly cleared enough to remember that she was 
their schoolteacher. If too many youngsters found out about her illicit 
extracurricular activities, the results would be disastrous. 

"I think it's better if - if we keep our little secret to ourselves," she 
continued in a rather desperate voice. 

"But they're part of the gang!" Robbie insisted, and Charlie nodded in 
solemn agreement. "It's not fair if they can't come, too." 

"But boys, boys," the suddenly agitated schoolteacher looked at the four 
handsome youngsters with pleading eyes. "If everyone hears about - about 
tonight - I'll lose my job and . .. and ..." 

"Don't worry!" Robbie reassured his blonde lover, kissing her gently on the 
cheek. "We've been a gang for five years, and we know how to keep a secret. 
Honest!" 

"Well, all right," Krista relented as she felt his warm lips caress her own. 
"Why don't you all come next Friday and we'll have a party. Okay?" 

Grinning and laughing, the teenagers trooped out into the icy cold night. To 
the paranoid woman's vast relief, they tiptoed in absolute silence away from 
her home. Only when they were back on the front sidewalk did the contented 
junior high instructor hear a sound from her four young lovers. 

"Hey, lookit all them pumpkins," a shrill voice, unmistakably Phillip 
Larsen's, drifted back in a chilling blast of wind. "Why don't we smash 'em 
like we said we were gonna do?" 

"Shut up, moron!" his brother's lower tones reached Krista's ears. "Messing 
'round with jack o'lanterns is for little kids ... and we're men now!" 

Smiling softly, the Home Ec teacher shut her front door and headed for the 
bedroom. 

Yes, they 're men now.. . or at least on the road to becoming men, she 
thought drowsily as she laid her exhausted body down beneath the blankets. 
And I've shown them the right way... 

For the first time in months, the curvaceous twenty-three year old enjoyed a 
deep, truly restful sleep. The recurring nightmare in which Brian Degraff, 
naked save for a white Klu Klux Klan hat, a large fraternity ring and an 
erection the size of a baseball bat, chased her across a barren field 
covered with surrealistically barbed brambles, did not haunt her tonight. 
The sexually fulfilled blonde slept peacefully, a serene smile on her lush 
pink lips. Never again, in face, would her ex-boyfriend disrupt her sleep as 
mounted on a huge Arabian steed and brandishing a flaming cross and a 
gnarled cane like the one his senile grandfather had carried, he menaced her 
over miles and miles of bleak wasteland. 

Chapter Six 

The morning after her first orgy, Krista Morrisson awakened to the pealing 
chimes of church bells from the Catholic cathedral. As the sensual young 
schoolteacher lazily yawned and threw off the covers, a double-speed 
remembrance of last night's erotic ecstasy played before her mind's eye. 
"Uuummmmm," she murmured happily as she headed for the pink-tiled shower to 
wash the dried sperm from her finally fulfilled loins. "It was good, and I 
don't care what anyone else thinks." 

The church bells continued to chime as the voluptuous blonde donned a faded 
pair of skintight blue jeans and thick Norwegian pullover. She felt fired 
with energy, and intended to plant the tulip and daffodil bulbs she'd 
purchased in the garden shop in Toledo yesterday. While drinking her nescafe 
and nibbling a piece of cheddar cheese, she recalled, why the bells were 
ringing more than usual for a Sunday morning. 

"Of course - it's All Saints' Day," she muttered to herself as she chomped 
on a crisp red autumn apple. Ordinarily, she didn't bother with breakfast, 
but last night's sexual excesses had given her an appetite. "A Holy Day of 
Obligation. Mother's probably in church right now, sitting in the third row 
left side like she always does. And the Degraffs are sitting in their fourth 
row, right side pew like they always do." 

Usually, thoughts like this made Krista feel guilty and depressed, but not 
today. Whether or not she attended church services hadn't bothered her much 
since she'd "lost religion" after a teacher in college had informed them 
that Christinanity was merely another opiate of the populace, but she'd 
nevertheless felt a lingering reluctance to relinquish the old traditions. 
Now, still eveloped in the warm glow of last night's erotic exorbitance, the 
lovely young woman could flash a tolerant smile of uninvolvement at the 
thought of her mother's riduculous pheasant-plumed hat and her ex-pinmate's 
mother's ratty squirrel warp. 

For the rest of the brightly sunlit but nonetheless brisk autumn morning, 
Krista raked leaves and planted spring flowers. Smiling secretively, she 
exchanged pleasantries with her neighbors about how nice it was that teenage 
vandals had not decorated the street with shaving cream, smashed pumpkins, 
and toilet paper as they normally did. 

It was only when she saw Principal Harding's faulty-mufflered Chevrolet 
wheeze to a stop in front of her apartment that Krista's soraing spirits 
plummeted. Tugging at her greeen and red ski sweater so that it minimized 
the luxuriant swell of her full breasts, she contorted her face into an 
appropriately dutiful grimace and headed toward her portly employer. 
Although her stomach felt as though a million demented butterflies were 
crazily careening inside it, she managed to greet the unattractive 
middle-aged educator with what she hoped was a cool and confident smile. 

"Well, hello, Mr. Harding," she said, hastily wiping her muddy hands on her 
levis before offering her hand. "How nice to see you. Isn't it a glorious 
day!" 

"Nice day, yes," the lecherous man's gaze immediately focused to Miss 
Morrisson's trimly contoured buttocks and remained glued there for the 
remainder of their brief converstaion. "Nice day. And all the better because 
our streets are not defiled with the shards of innocent children's beloved 
jack-'o-lanterns." 

"Yes, indeed," Krista replied brightly, wondering in a paroxysm of terror 
just what he was getting at. 

"I stopped by," Preston continued pompously, "to congratulate you, Miss 
Morrisson." 

"Yes?" Krista sucked in her breath, awaiting the worst. 

"Your suggestion at the faculty meeting about teachers doing their part for 
the community by keeping the worst offenders off the streets, plus the 
editorial I wrote for the local newspaper, have made this the cleanest 
Halloween in twenty years! I understand you yourself gave a little party . 
.. ?" 

How does he know that? Krista worried, but she answered calmly. 

"Yes, I did .. .just for a few of the worst troublemakers." 

"That's the spirit!" The young blonde shuddered inwardly as the principal's 
flabby hand patted her shoulder. "You certainly do have a touch with those 
young hooligans." 

Three weeks later, on the night of northern Ohio's first significant 
snowfall, the pleasure-sated schoolteacher lay in her rumpled bed watching 
the figures of her six young lovers hurry silently down the street. She 
signed softly, thinking what a wonderfully erotic evening it had been ... 
how beautiful it always was when the boys paid her a visit, as they did 
several times a week. 

It's times like this, she thought sleepily, that compensate for my paranoid 
guilt. How happy I'd be if the world could accept the way I am, and I didn't 
have to constantly worry about being caught!" 

Yawning, she turned once again to the window. By now, the teenagers had 
vanished from view, but their footprints were vividly etched on the clean 
white snow. For an instant Krista considered going out and shoveling her 
walk to erase the damning evidence, but then she decided she was being 
ridiculous. After all, it was only midnight; by morning, several more inches 
of snow would have drifted down to hide the footsteps. 

Tomorrow was Thanksgiving, and since Krista had early plane reservations to 
fly down to her mother's farm in Virginia, she knew she'd better get some 
rest. Her last thought, before falling into a sound sleep, was of how she 
would miss her darling little lovers. 

Twenty minutes after Krista's deep brown eyes flickered shut, the snow 
stopped. 

The moment Leroy Jankowski, whose blue and white garbage truck followed 
behind the five a.m. street plow, saw the footprints, a lecherous smile lit 
his broad face. So he'd been right! The voluptuous schoolteacher was having 
nightly visitors. For several weeks now, after he'd observed a rather 
drastic change in the quality and quantity of Miss Morrisson's garbage, he'd 
been wondering what the curvaceous blonde was up to. Now, carefully 
inspecting the six sets of youthful footprints, he understood why there'd 
been so many empty coke bottles, used condoms, douche powders, and scented 
feminine sprays in the young teacher's yellow plastic garbage pail! 

There were three main things the burly garbage collector appreciated in 
life: beer, gossip, and women - this later category not including his frowsy 
wife Sophie. Gossip was easy to come by in his job - he'd never forgotten 
the time he found a broken battery-run dildo in Rhoda Blair's pseudo-Gothic 
garbage pail, for example - and the guys in the bar were always willing to 
buy him a drink just to be entertained by his often scandalous stories. But 
when it came to finding beautiful young women to fulfill his third need, the 
going got harder. Milkmen, postmen, and door-to-door salesmen had great luck 
with frustrated young housewives - or so he'd heard 

- but when he made his rounds, hubby was still home in bed or perhaps 
drinking coffee in the kitchen. 

Coming to a standstill outside Krista Morrisson's back doorstep, Leroy 
glanced cautiously around him. It was still pitch black outside, and, today 
being a holiday, the windows up and down both sides of the street were still 
dark. Grinning lewdly, the heavy set garbageman set the schoolteacher's 
emptied plastic pail back down, then stealthily pushed the kitchen door 
open. He'd known it would be open, for he'd tried it before. 

When Krista felt hands pulling off her electric blanket and turning her over 
onto her belly, she was still so drowsy that she thought she was still with 
her young lovers. 

"Robbie? ... Charlie? ..." she murmured softly. 

"Sorry to disappoint ya, ma'am," a gruff masculine voice leered. "This time 
it ain't none of your little boyfriends." 

The terrified teacher's eyes flew open and she tried to pull herself 
upright, but calloused hands were pinning her naked back flat against the 
mattress. Twisting her neck around, she found herself staring into the 
unshaven face of the local garbageman, whose daughter, Janice, was in her 
seventh grade sewing class. 

"What are you doing in my bedroom?" she gasped, her pretty features 
distorted into a mask of contorted terror. "Get your hands off me! How dare 
you!" 

"Whatssa matter, teacher?" the middle-aged man taunted. Keeping one 
iron-hard hand pinned to the woman's frantically struggling body, he tugged 
down the zipper on his tained blue overalls, kicked them aside, and then 
ripped off his greyish jockey shorts. 

"D-don't talk to me like that, you rapist!" Krista hissed, but her voice 
trembled as she realized that she'd finally been found out. And by Leroy 
Jankowski, the biggest gossip monger in Pottawattami Hills! 

"I don't wanna talk, lady," grunted Leroy. "I wanna screw this here nice ass 
of yours. And if you got any smarts at all, you won't try to stop me, cause 
I know things 'bout you that you wouldn't want repeated." 

Choking back the scream that rose in her throat at the man's sadistic 
snigger, the panic-stricken blonde began to struggle with all her strength 
against the garbageman's cruelly talon-like fingers. Though she was by no 
means a fragile female, her madly kicking legs were abruptly stilled as the 
naked invader's hulking weight landed full-force on her helpless body. As 
she gasped for breath, he lifted himself up, gave her a stinging slap on the 
tender flesh of her asscheeks, then dropped back down on her with his thick, 
haircovered legs brutally forcing her trembling legs apart. 

"Git that ass up, teacher! Let's see you like the feel of a real man's cock 
for a change!" 

Shivering in fearful disgust, Krista again twisted her head to see Leroy, a 
swarthy leer on his lust-twisted face, pulling back the thick foreskin of 
his massive member. The hot-fleshed cudgel was so huge that for a fleeting 
instant the naked teacher believed that this must just be another nightmare 
like the one where Brian Degraph threatened her with a baseball bat shaped 
penis but as a suffocating sweat and stale garbage emanated from the 
intruder's thick-muscled loins, she knew that this was no dream. 

"No!" she hissed, not daring to cry out aloud. "Get that horrible thing away 
from me, you stinking bastard! Don't touch me!" Despite his caveman-like 
physique, Jankowski was not normally a violent man. For fifteen years now, 
he'd refrained from giving his nagging wife the beating he felt was long 
overdue her, and he'd accepted that their marital realtions should consist 
of a quick missionary-position fuck after his Saturday night bath. But 
tonight was going to be different. 

The blonde teacher's invective suddenly aroused a powerful streak of 
long-repressed sadistic rvenge, and his unwashed face controted into fury as 
he applied another brutal blow to her pinkly quivering buttocks. Thinks 
she's too good for me 'cause I'm the garbage collector, does she, his lust 
deranged mind cried, and he wrenched her ivory-white buttocks apart so 
viciously that the tortured blonde yelped in pain. 

"I tol'ya to shut up, bitch! You're so horny you can't keep your hands off 
little boys - well, now you're gonna find out what happens to sluts like 
you! Think you're real hot shit, dontcha? Ya ain't - you'se just a hot cunt 
like all the other bitches!" 

Overcome with the force of his long-suppressed sadism, the garbageman, 
without a thought of his victim's fear or possible injury, rammed the 
bulging head of his monstrously swollen penis up against the tiny pink 
orifice nestled between the schoolteacher's billowing white buttocks. There 
was a loud obscene popping sound as his huge cock-head broke throuth the 
cringing sphincter muscle, followed by an inhuman scream from the 
pain-stunned schoolteacher. 

"AAARRRGGG! OOOHHHWWW!" the obscenely impaled blonde shrieked as the huge 
flesh cudgel forced its way deeper and deeper into her dry, fear-cringing 
anal passage. Then, as the ramrod-stiff penis plunged all the way to the 
hilt, stretching the walls of her tensed rectum beyond the limits of human 
endurance, her tortured figure collapsed limply upon the blankets in a black 
cloud of unconsciousness. 

Leroy, half insane with desire as the equisite tightness of Miss Morrisson's 
velvet-soft anus clasped around his lust-throbbing penis, paid no attention 
to his victim's reaction. All his life he'd dreamed of fucking a beautiful 
blonde in the ass till she screamed for mercy, and at last his deepest 
perverted desire was being fulfilled. With an animal roar, he began fucking 
into the tiny orifice with all the brute force in his ape-like body. 

After a short minute of welcome relief, Krista came out of her faint to feel 
the most extreme agony she'd ever experienced searing from her violated 
virgin rectum to every nerve-ending in her helpless body. Daggers edged with 
tongues of white-hot flame shot up and down her spasming anal passage as the 
merciless male lunged again and again into her forbidden nether opening, and 
she scarcely dared to breathe for fear that this would increase her anguish. 
Each time his lust-swollen cock withdrew, thin membranes of tissue from her 
overstuffed rectum were pulled out with it, leaving her so raw and chafed 
that each brutal downstroke hurt more than the one before. 

"No . . . nooo . . . nooooooo ..." the degraded schoolteacher changed in 
tempo to Jankowski's rhythmic strokes into her never-before-entered anus. 
"You're killing me ... killing me ... " 

But even as she wailed out her torment, the pain in her ravaged backside was 
subtly changing. Her rectal muscles were automatically adjusting to the 
invading object, and the pre-orgasmic secretions of Leroy's impatiently 
pounding penis served to lubricate her unprepared passage. Although she 
still felt a strong discomfort, mental despair was taking the place of 
physical torture. 

I'll never feel clean again, she wailed silently. Oh God, I never really 
believed that human beings could be so vile, certainly not in a civilized 
country like America. It's unnatural, disgusting! How am I going to live 
with the repulsive memories? 

"Nice tight ass you got, teacher," the garbageman panted above the 
pain-quivering blonde. "Whattaya think of my prick now, huh? Feels good in 
your hot little asshole?" 

"NO! Oh please! Ahhhhh ... ooowwwww," Krista gurgled incoherently into her 
tear-stained pillow. 

The vile rapist's obscenities made the situation seem even more obscene than 
before, but to Krista's horror this very sensation triggered an unwanted 
spark of masochistic excitement. Without realizing what she was doing, the 
teacher was automatically undulating her cock-stuffed buttocks back to meet 
the garbage collector's forceful thrusts. This destroyed the last vestiges 
of burning pain, and to her horror she realized that her traitorous body was 
actually beginning to enjoy the brutalizing anal rape. 

"Better than little boy cocks?" Leroy sneered, gloating at his victim's 
full-fleshed ass-cheeks rotating around his pummeling flesh pole. Arching 
his muscular hips, he bore down with ever-increasing fury, for the forbidden 
sight of his huge hardness slicing again and again into the tiny virgin 
orifice thrilled him more than anything he'd seen for years. 

"It's better, huh? Ya like it, huh? C'mon, say you like it, bitch!" 

"Ohhhh ... no, no, no!" Krista chocked out. 

God, I wish it still hurt, her mind raced wildly. How can I ever admit that 
this horrible rape feels good? I'd rather die than sink that low. .. 

"SAY YA LIKE IT!" the enraged garbage man bellowed. 

But before he could insist on this final humiliation of the conceited 
schoolteacher, Leroy felt the semen churning in his balls as they whacked 
against Krista's hair-fringed vagina. His penis, which hadn't enjoyed a 
tightly elastic clasping like this in longer than he liked to remember, was 
ready to explode! 

"Say it! Say, 'Fuck my ass!' " Jankowski groaned one last time before the 
first searing jets of sperm began flooding from his penis into the young 
woman's wildly contracting rectum. 

Through the thunderous whirlstorm pounding in his passion-dazed ears, Leroy 
heard the proud young woman suddenly babble out a stream of crazy, 
incoherent syllables. Then, to her amazement as much as his, a loud, 
lust-distorted wail of submission rang out in the darkened bedroom. 

"All right, all right," the words tore from her lips with a painful wrench 
which heightened Krista's masochistic excitation. "Fuck my ass! Fuck it 
hard! I deserve it! I LIKE IT!" 

"Yeah! Move that ass!" gasped the garbageman as his hot semen splashed in an 
endless cascade of life-giving seed into the schoolteacher's hungrily 
suctioning anus. "Suck my cum up that hot little asshole!" 

As the heated spurts of sperm drenched her stimulated rectal channel, a 
churning pressure exploded deep in Krista's guivering belly. Thick hot 
rivulets of male cum dribbled down over her vaginal slit, which was 
previously titillated by his jouncing balls, and suddenly ner voluptuous 
body was jolted into a galvanizing orgasm. 

"EEEEEHHHHHHHHH! she shrilled mindlessly as the erotic waves of her 
unexpected climax washed over her bruised and battered body. 
"Cccccccuuuuummmmmiiiii nnnnnnggggg..." 

For several minutes the lust-crazed teacher was transported to another 
universe where there was no guilt, no shame, nothing but blinding physical 
bliss. The power of her paroxysmal passion terrified her when the last 
swells and surges of joy faded at last; how could her body react in a way 
which betrayed every principle she believed in? Shuddering with horror, she 
felt Leroy Jankowski's huge cock deflating and finally slipping from her 
unnaturally violated anus with a sickening sluicing sound. 

"Get out," she spat at him, lifting her head for a last look at the virtual 
stranger who had degraded her in the most heinous way possible. "Get out 
before I call the police!" 

The sweat-streaked garbageman rose from the creaking mattress, a satisfied 
leer on his swarthy face. "I'm goin', lady, I'm goin', he drawled, winking 
at her in a shamefully familiar way as he pulled on his greasey overalls. 
"But I don't think you'll be calling no cops, 'cause explaining 'bout them 
boyfriends of yours ain't gonna be easy. You keep your secret, and I'll keep 
mine, and we can have some more fun one of these mornings." 

"No!" Krista whimpered, watching with horrified eyes as the burly garbageman 
swaggered from the bedroom without so much as a backward glance. "No ... no 
... no ... " her voice died away in a flood of tears as she buried her head 
in the rumpled bedclothes and tried unsuccessfully to shut out the smell of 
sperm and sweat and the lingering aroma of garbage. 

Finally, the despairing schoolteacher dragged herself to the shower, where 
she spent the better part of an hour scrubbing furiously at the body which 
had so wantonly betrayed her. Then, after changing the sheets and 
telephoning her mother to say she was sick with the flu. 

I'm sick, that's true enough, she thought bitterly as she gripped the 
receiver in her trembling hands. A sick, despicable pervert. . . 

"Oh, I'm so sorry, dear," her mother's voice came over the line so faintly 
the girl had to strain to hear it. "But we'll be seeing you Christmas, of 
course, and that's only a month away." 

Not if I'm in jail, you won't. .. was Krista's bitter reaction, but she 
replied, "Yes, I'm looking forward to Christmas." 

"Oh, by the way, dear," Mrs. Morrisson remarked. Brian Degraph brought such 
a delightful girl back with him from Stanford. Everyone says she's the 
spitting image of you!" 

After the phone conversation, the troubled young teacher crawled into bed. 
Here she stayed for the entire four days of the Thanksgiving weekend, 
getting up only to go to the toilet or get something from the kitchen. By 
Sunday night when she fell into her insomnia-wracked sleep she'd gone 
through a giant-size jar of Nescafe and two bottles of brandy. 

The doorbell rang twice on Thursday morning, but when she saw from behind 
her bedroom curtains that it was Robbie Blair, she didn't answer the door. 
All during that first day the telephone kept ringing, making her so agitated 
that finally she took it off the hook. The normally silent instrument's 
sudden burst of activity must have something to do with her terrible 
experience with the garbageman, and she just didn't want to know about it. 

I should pack my bags and escape, she told herself at first, but she seemed 
to be afflicted by an inexplicable deadening inertia. Besides, where would 
she run? There was no escape from the consequences of her perverted 
behavior. If Krista had answered the door or picked up her phone, she'd have 
saved herself a good deal of anquish. Robbie had come by Thanksgiving 
morning before going to visit his father's mother in Cleveland to tell his 
teacher that the gang had taken care of Leroy Jankowski and that she needn't 
worry. He and Charlie, having planned to surprise Miss Morrisson with an 
early morning fuck before their four days of separation, had bumped into the 
smug-faced garbageman as he sauntered out Krista's back door smoothing his 
overalls over his now limp penis in evident satisfaction. 

They'd threatened the suddenly less confident workman to have him charged 
with rape, emphasizing their lawyer - father's connections to various state 
officials, and Jankowski realized at once that he hadn't a leg to stand on. 
He was, afterall, the lowly garbageman; of course any court would chose to 
believe the evidence of two "innocent" youngsters whose fathers were friends 
of the judge ... 

As it was, however, Krista felt like Marie Antoinnette bouncing in a wagon 
on her way to the guillitine as she drove the four miles toward Franklin 
Junior High on Monday morning. Her paranoia had been fed by the four days of 
lonely depression, and she was not in the least surprised to be cornered by 
Principal Harding and 

Superintendent Andersen within five minutes of having arrived at work. 

"Can we speak with you for a few minutes, Miss Morrisson?" the 
superintendent inquired. 

Following the two portly educators through the crowded halls, Krista felt 
numb, almost indifferent to her fate. I suppose they'll send me to jail for 
a few years, she thought, as she'd been doing all weekend. And the poor 
innocent boys will probably end up in some awful reform school which'll 
destroy them completely. I thought I was helping them - but I've hurt them 
more than anyone else could. 

"Please sit down, Miss Morrisson," began the white-haired superintendent. 
"Now, we've been hearing many reports about the work you've been doing with 
our more - uh - difficult older students." 

Oh, God, Krista despaired. Can't he make it quick? Must he twist the knife 
in the wound? 

The troubled teacher was so distracted that she lost track of what her 
employer was saying for several sentences. Suddenly, she focused in on a 
phase which seemed totally out of context with what she supposed he'd been 
saying. 

"... and, of course, a considerably higher salary." 

"P-pardon me?" she exclaimed in surprise. "Higher salary?" 

The superintendent smiled benevolently at the Home-Ec teacher from across 
the table. 

"Of course you're bound to receive a greater reward for the much more 
intensive duties your position as Director of the Northern State Boys' 
Correctional Home," he began. "And I don't wonder that you're surprized 
we've recommended you for the post, considering your age and sex. But, after 
seeing the wonders you've worked here, we both feel sure you're capable of 
handling the job." 

Two bright spots of pink appeared on the young blonde's previously ashen 
face as a slow smile played on her lush pink lips. It can't be true! she 
thought dizzily. I must be dreaming. But she knew inside that this 
incredible thing was actually happening to her. 

"If you want to accept the job, you'll have to begin at the first of the 
year. What do you think, Miss Morrisson? Of course, we'll be sorry to lose 
you, but in all honesty I think this is the start of a fine career for you." 

"Oh, yes," Krista's smile grew so bright that her whole face seemed to glow 
with an inner luminence. "Yes, I'll accept the job ... with the greatest of 
pleasure!" 


End
