As she licked her fingers, I worked down her skirt. Her panties were the same boring white as her bra. But her crotch was soaked. I leaned in, breathing in deeply. Her tart musk bled through the fabric. I licked, tasting cotton and pussy, such a sweet, innocent flavor.
Her hips writhed, sweet moans escaping her lips as I pushed her gusset into her folds, molding them tight. A few black curls escaped out her gusset. She wasn’t shaved. Perfect. Japanese girls looked so intoxicating with their dark, thick bushes. I bet Clint would love that about her.
“Professor Samuels,” she moaned, staring at me. She leaned back against a desk, her hands planting on the edge, gripping it as I pulled down her panties. Slowly, rolling them down her hips, exposing the top of her black bush. “You’re really going to do this.”
“Do what?”
She licked her lips. “Lick my pussy.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s so wrong. I’m your student.”
“I know,” I moaned, not caring about how immoral this was. My pussy was on fire. I breathed in her tart musk as her panties rolled down her sleek thighs. Her bush was trimmed but thick, hiding her folds.
I left her panties bunched around her knees, unable to resist my hungers for her barely legal snatch. I buried my lips into my student’s cunt and licked hard. She shuddered, back arching, breasts jiggling over my head as I found her virgin pussy buried beneath the forest of black curls. I ran along her slit, gathering her tart musk.
Her pussy was virginal tight. My fingers quested through her silk pubic hair. I parted her vulva, exposing her inner flesh, and licked again. I brushed her intact hymen, the membrane covered in small holes, before swiping through her folds and brushing her clit peeking out of its sheath.
She bucked. Her eyes shot wide open. “Professor Samuels. That’s so naughty! Oh, wow. Oh, yes.”
“Don’t be shy. Tell me exactly how this feels.” I took another long, slow lick.
“It feels wonderful. Oh, your tongue is sliding through my folds. I can feel it against my flesh, caressing me. And… Oh, that’s my clitoris.”
“Your clit,” I grinned. “Your cute clit and your hot pussy, your cunt. Or your cunny. That’s what you call them.”
“Yes, yes, my cunt!” Her body shuddered saying that word. She probably thought it was such a terrible word, but know, her lusts burning hot, she realized it was also so sexy. Her hips undulated, silky pubic hairs caressing my lips as she ground on me. “Yes, yes, Professor Samuels. Lick my pussy. My barely legal cunt! You’re such a naughty teacher! So bad!”
“I am,” I moaned. I wanted her to fuck my nephew and daughter. I wanted to make my sexy Master happy. I hadn’t even submitted to Clint yet, and he was already my master. He owned me.
And Pam would be my proof.
I licked her harder, faster. My thumb rubbed at her clit as I licked about her tight slit and folds. I brushed her hymen and drank her wonderful, tart juices. They dribbled down my chin and coated my face. She squirmed and moaned. Her hips shook, shuddered. Breasts bounced above me, dark-brown nipples waving. Her face contorted with her pleasure.
Her hips humped and moaned. Her breasts jiggled as I stirred the pleasure through her body. I made her writhe and gasp. Her head snapped back. She moaned out her delight, eyes clenching, body shivering.
“It’s building,” she moaned. “My orgasm! Oh, Professor Samuels! Oh, this is so naughty! I’m going to cum! No one’s ever made me cum before.”
“Don’t hold back,” I moaned. “Let it out. Pretend I’m Melody.”
I sucked on her clit hard as she gasped. With her eyes closed, I knew she was picturing my daughter and her blonde hair, her round breasts, her youthful body. They were the same age, both nineteen, in the same year along with Clint. Pam spasmed, her breasts bouncing, the desk creaking.
And then she came. The breath exploded out of her. Juices flooded my mouth as she moaned and gasped. She spasmed. Her French braid whipped about her body while her breasts danced above me, so perky and firm. Her thighs tightened on my cheeks.
I savored her pleasure. I savored preparing my gift to my nephew and Master. Clint would love Pam so much. I hoped he recorded her sucking his cock on his phone. My pussy burned between my thighs. I wanted to masturbate so badly.
But I would save it for tonight. For my Master.
“Professor Samuels,” she squeaked out as she bucked and shivered a final time, her pleasure slowing. “Professor Samuels… Oh, that was amazing.”
“Did you picture me as Melody?” I asked.
She nodded her head.
“And you’re going to offer Clint a blowjob, telling him it was my idea?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You’ll do it,” I said, forcing myself to be as dominant as possible. It wasn’t what I liked, but I could do it to groom young girls for my master’s pleasure. “You want to do it. This is what you need for your confidence. If you can walk up to a boy and offer to blow his dick, you can debate before a crowd.”
“Yes, Professor Samuels.” she shivered. “But… Where can I blow him at school? We’ll get caught.”
“My classroom,” I told her. “Before my first class. It’ll be open for you to use. You’ll blow my nephew right where I’m kneeling.”
Mmm, I was such a cool aunt.
* * *
Cheryl Elliston
I hummed happily as I cooked wearing nothing but an apron. It had been so long since I had done that. Zoey had been just a toddler and Clint a bun in my oven. Once the kids came, my sex life with my husband and sister had to go beneath their notice. All our kinky fun was outside the house or in our soundproof bedrooms–Clinton made both mine and my sister Vicky’s next door that way.
He was such a handy man.
I paused before the mixing bowl full of the breading for the chicken, made from scratch, and fought back the tears. Sometimes, it felt like Clinton just died instead of six months ago. He was my man. My son may be my new master, but he would never own my heart the way Clinton had. For twenty years he loved and dominated my sister and me.
Twenty wonderful years.
I took a deep breath, calming myself. My hand shook. I really wanted a drink. But Clint forbade me from buying any wine. There was none in the house. The shiver shook me more. I grit my teeth and went back to mixing the breading.
Cooking was soothing. I used to do it almost every night for two decades. I would come home from my job as a paralegal for Elisabet Reenbug, a tax attorney, and start dinner. Clinton loved home-cooked meals. I made enough for Vicky and her children, too.
And now I cooked for Clint.
He was watching me from the dining room, sitting at the head of the table, having a great view of my naked ass as I flounced through the kitchen. He, Melody, Alicia, and Lee were all in there working on their homework, cooling off after our morning and afternoon of nasty sex. I could still feel Lee’s mouth licking Clint’s cum out of me while the fresh flavor of Alicia’s pussy lingered on my lips.
I licked my eighteen-year-old daughter’s cunt, and I loved it.
The front door opened. I tensed for a moment. It shouldn’t be Zoey. My eldest daughter was working at Dairy Queen tonight. If she found me wearing only an apron, that would be awkward. She wasn’t ready to be apart of the harem.
Yet.
I had to have a mother-daughter conversation with her, ease her into it. She wasn’t as submissive as the other women of the family, and she still saw Clint not as a man, but as her annoying, younger brother. A kid.
A Squirt.
Instead, it was my sister, Vicky, who walked into the house back from her day coaching debate. I could just see her in the entrance way pulling off her coat and hanging it on the rack. Then she unbuttoned her blouse. She flashed me a naughty smile. I grinned back. She was eager to have a new Master, to serve Clint with me and her daughters and nieces.
We looked a lot alike, though I was taller and bustier than my little sister, though not by much. Her breasts were large and round, so fun to play with. Her hair was the same shade of black as mine–when I didn’t have it bleached blonde. Her breasts came out. We had matching tattoos over our hearts, a triangle with three letters tattooed at the corners. C at the top, then a C and a V at the bottom corners.
Clinton, Cheryl, Vicky.
Her breasts bounced as she worked out of her skirt and panties, rushing to strip for her master. Unlike me, she was shaved save for a triangle on her pudenda pointing down at her pussy. Clinton wanted me blonde and her shaved. Even after he died, we kept grooming ourselves to his standards. In fact, I needed to bleach my hair again, my roots were too dark.
Naked, she fell on her hands and knees and crawled into the kitchen, ignoring the discomfort of first hardwood floors and then linoleum. I smiled at my sister as she passed me, staring at her ass and shaved pussy.
She glistened.
A chair scraped. Clint stood up from his place at the head of the table. He was tall, strong, filling out to his father’s powerful build. Clinton had educated our son, rearing him to be the master of his sisters. My husband never touched his daughters, not even when nineteen-year-old Zoey tried to seduce him. He wanted them all for his son. So he made sure Clint knew how to act, how to handle his women, how to take care of them. I doubt Clint ever realized his father’s true goal.
“You would be so proud of him,” I whispered as Clint seized my sister’s hair.
“What do you think you’re doing, Aunt Vicky?” Clint asked, hauling her head up. She knelt before him, her spine so supple.
“I’m here to be your slave, Sir,” she answered. “To do any nasty, filthy, naughty thing you want. Degrade me. Fuck me. Use me, Sir!”
“Mom,” Lee groaned. Then she slipped out of her robes, her slim, athletic body appearing. The eighteen-year-old had small breasts and a black bush between her tan legs. Her short hair gave her a pixyish bob, fitting her bratty personality. “Me, too. I’m his slave, too, Mom. He uses me! He pissed on me.”
“Lee,” Clint growled. “Did I tell you to strip naked and interrupt your mother’s submission to me?”
“No, Sir,” Lee said, though there was heat in her voice, a wiggle to her hips. Her red and bruised ass rested on her heels. She had to feel the pain as she squirmed. She was excited to be punished.