'Ohhhhhh,' Camilla moaned, moving her hips as her teacher pushed his finger against the taut, damp band of silk that stretched across her young pussy. He rubbed her and she turned her mouth up to be kissed. Mr. Anderson's tongue went between her teeth and he pulled her body hard against him. Suddenly, his fingers were stretching the elastic of her panties as he forced her crotchband aside. His finger danced over her clit, and she arched her back.
'Uhh, uhhh, uhhh!' she gasped, pumping her hips, rubbing her hot cunt hard against his touching. Camilla was drunk, but not too drunk to realize that what was happening might help her out of her academic predicament. Surely her teacher wasn't going to flunk a girl who was making him feel so good!
'Ohhh, Mr. Anderson, you make me feel so funny!' Cammy found the zipper of his slacks and jerked it down. Her long, white fingers snaked into the tangle of his skivvies and pulled his cock free. She had him in her hand now, all seven or eight inches. He felt huge, and his cock as thick as an ax handle. She jacked the skin of his prick, remembering how Ralph had liked it. Mr. Anderson did too.
'Camilla! You'd better stop that… ohhhhhhhhh!'
Cammy remembered how Ralph's cock had started throbbing just before his cum had spurted out. Mr. Anderson's prick was doing that right now! She looked down at his swollen cock-head. It was a purplish blue and the veins of his cock-shaft stuck out. Cammy jerked his cock-skin up and down.
'Stop that!' Mr. Anderson said.
'Don't you like it?' Cammy pouted.
'Yes… no! Damn it, girl, get your hands off me.'
'But you're gonna come!' Cammy said, watching the droplet of hot cream drip onto Mr. Anderson's pants. 'You don't want to stop now, or it might kill you!'
'You've got to stop!' Mr. Anderson still grasped her wrist, but he wasn't pulling her hand away. Camilla squeezed her fingers around his bulging cock-tip and let the pressure off. Squeezing and releasing, she watched another drop of cum make a long string as it fell to the floor between Mr. Anderson's shoes.
'Goddamn!' he groaned, letting Cammy's wrist go. She jacked him furiously now, her grey eyes wide as she watched the hot, white spurts leap out onto the desk, the chair, Mr. Anderson's pants. His cum was flying everywhere, and as she tried to aim his cock away from herself, one jet formed a loop in the air and sailed downwards.
She had it on her hands now and the stringy, sticky stuff clung, between her fingers. Mr. Anderson's eyes were closed and he was about to fall out of his chair. Cammy thought drunkenly how all her troubles would be solved now. Mr. Anderson would surely cut her, some slack. Look what she was doing for him!
'Get your books and get out of this room!' he boomed. He was standing up, trying to shove his cummy cock back in his pants. When he fumbled for his glasses he almost knocked them to the floor.
'What's wrong?'
'We'll take about that later. NOW, get out!' With tears in her eyes, Cammy staggered to the door. She wished she had another can of malt liquor. She wiped her yummy fingers on a hanky and fumbled with the doorknob.
'Don't breathe a word of this to anyone!' Mr. Anderson warned her.
'Of course I wouldn't. What kind of a girl do you think I am?' And with that, Cammy began to sob. She ran to the girl's restroom and washed her hands with soap. Then she dabbed at her swollen eyes and tried to figure out what had gone wrong.
'I didn't know he'd get all pissed off,' she whimpered to her reflection. 'The funky old son of a bitch!'
Camilla smeared a little lipstick on and dried her eyes one last time before venturing into the hall. A few kids were straggling in from outside and she began to feel a little better. But her head was still aching from the last can of malt liquor. She wished she could go home and take a hot shower and get in bed. She wished she could get in bed with Janet. Somebody who treated her right and didn't get bent out of shape when it came to sex.
'Hey Cammy,' somebody said behind her. It was Ralph, and his appreciative smile pepped her up some. 'You don't look so good.'
'Bad morning.' Camilla shrugged. 'You got a stick of gum?'
As Ralph unwrapped the gum for her, she remembered how it had felt when his cock had started spurting.
'Here's my uncle's number,' Ralph said, taking a piece of paper from his pocket.
'I really appreciate it, Ralph,' Cummy said. 'Maybe my old man won't make me sit home every night of the week if I find help myself.'
'See you later, I've got to get to a class.' Cammy studied the note, then hollered after Ralph.
'Hey, you didn't write his name down. What's his name?' But Ralph was already running, dodging between other students. Cammy folded the paper into her pocket and headed to her next class. She was thinking about Ralph and Mr. Anderson. It amazed her that a man could come so quick when a girl started grabbing cock. They really liked that. Maybe a girl's hands were softer. Or maybe it was because somebody else was grabbing them. Cammy couldn't deny that watching that white stuff jump up into the air in long strings was exciting. It was so hot and slick and smelly. It turned her on.
Even though her head still hurt, Camilla had hope. If this guy over at Brambridge could just help her through this algebra stuff, her parents would get off her back and she could enjoy life again. But by the time her fourth period math class rolled around, she was feeling very nervous. She wondered if she could face Mr. Anderson after the wild scene that morning. She realized now how drunk she'd been. What had seemed funny, and daring then, scared her to death now. At least she wasn't afraid of his saying anything to anybody. Something like that could ruin the poor guy's career for sure.
CHAPTER THREE
'Camilla Johnson, would you stay alter class for a moment please? I'd like, a word with you.'
Camilla sat with her head down as the other students paused up the aisle and out of the room. Things hadn't been so bad during the class, actually. Mr. Anderson hadn't even called on her do work out a problem on the board. But now he wanted to talk to her. Gathering her books, Cammy slid out of her seat and went to stand in front of her teacher's desk.
'Yes, Mr. Anderson?'
He took off his glasses and looked up from his papers. 'First Cammy, I'd like to make sure you understand that what happened this morning was one of those unfortunate accidents that sometimes occur. I don't hold you responsible, nor do I blame you.'
'Thank you, Mr. Anderson.'
'Furthermore, seeing that you have been trying much harder in class, I'd like to make sure your grade average is improved. The only sure way to do that is to meet with you again and go over the equations you have the most trouble with.'
'I understand, Mr. Anderson.'
'I'll expect you to come by my apartment this Friday afternoon after school. Here's a key in case you get there before I do. All right?'
'Of course, Mr. Anderson.' Camilla took the key and risked a smile. Mr. Anderson pretended he didn't see it, but as he turned in his chair, Cammy couldn't help see that his slacks were all pushed up again. Starting out of the room, she turned at the door.
'What time should I be there?'
'Let's make it seven.' Mr. Anderson had his glasses on again, but even through the thick lenses, she could see his eyes tracking the length of her legs. She flipped her braid at him.
'See you then.'
As Camilla headed for the cafeteria, she tried to analyze the strange, new emotion she felt. Mr. Anderson had come on real stern and controlling, but she'd sensed that during those moments she'd stood before him, she had been the one in control. She wondered what he would have done if she'd refused to meet with him in her apartment. She also wondered just how far he was going to go when they were alone. The one thing she was
