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  Slick and Furtive

  By: Ercoth Omnest

  Copyright © 2016 by Ercoth Omnest. All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All characters in story or stories are 18 years or older. Reading only recommended by those who are 18+.

  Table of Contents

  Mr. Pelley

  Aric

  Mr. Pelley

  I sip my warm coffee while I wait seated in the teacher’s lounge listening to a cluster of actual teachers speak about the students in ways that do not comport with standards. I say actual teachers because I’m only a substitute.

  If I listen carefully, with acute concentration, I can hear young teachers talking in whispers about the senior students who have given them the D. They don’t use the word penis or cock, they say D. This is because unmarked rules state that if the letter D is used, it can quickly be transitioned to mean a letter grade for a school assignment, and this is handy when male teachers or older female teachers, who would never approve of such scandals, walk in on them unexpectedly.

  I recently graduated college with my certified license to teach any grade, full masters. I decided to take the route of teaching older students who are on their way to shake hands with the real world. Albeit I’m only a substitute, I do aim to inspire my students, even if I only know them for a few days.

  Years past, I would never have thought teachers would speak in dirty tongue about students. But then, I recalled all those highlight moments when female teachers were announced on television, on their way to jail, for having sexual relations with students; how this had completely passed over my head? I don’t know. I inhale the sweet smell of the black coffee inches from my mouth, the warm mug keeping my hands comfortable.

  Being here, in Cleveland, Tennessee, and having to substitute for many teachers, I have learned that on average seventy-nine percent of all female teachers have sexual relations with at least one student, and those relationships last on average for a couple of years. The same can be said for those going to college, but the consequences are less severe for both the professors and the students.

  I, myself, fit into the category of teachers reveling in sexual relationships with their students. The only reason I wanted to become a substitute instead of a full time teacher is, because I get to meet more male seniors across many high schools. And, I very much like Ds, especially when their straight.

  I listen in closely again, managing to keep my face deadpan as if concentrating in on my own deep thoughts, my eyes staring at a flower pot near the window.

  “Yes…I’m telling you, Aric took me right on his assigned desk. The damn thing would creak and creak each time he slammed his pelvis onto me. Matter fact, we had to switch desks because the one my big ass was getting fucked on, suddenly, became detritus.” I look over at the teacher speaking, she has auburn hair, very pretty, with pale white skin. She wears standard professional clothing that meet the requirement for teacher’s dress code. Her rear end is the biggest feature on her person. She is not a large woman, but her rear held me enthralled, and that’s saying something because I only go for cock.

  Another teacher replies to Auburn, “How long did he take ?” The brunette giggles, a beautiful red lipped smile. She brushes her hand on Auburn’s forearms and waits with a look of anticipation.

  Auburn lifts her hand over her heart as she says, “It was quick, but it was rough.” She lowers her voice. “These young men are always in such a hurry. I try to teach them that patience is the key to keeping their D from lowering to a lesser grade, but they never listen.” She shakes her head in slight disappointment, her smile agape showing her aligned teeth.

  “So… do you recommend Aric?” Brunette asks jovially. A look about her stated that she would try Aric even if Auburn doesn’t recommend.

  “Yeah, especially if you like a young,” she lowers her voice again, and steps closer, being furtive. I listen in while I sip the last of my coffee; it sound like she says, “arching cock.”

  I lick my lips, drying them of coffee. This is my first time at this school, and I think to myself that I might have done my attire a bit inappropriate. Some of the looks I receive from teachers seem to be in agreement with my thoughts. It’s dead summer, with all leaves evergreen and lively. I had thought wearing short, tight shorts would be fitting, and to me it is.

  Honestly, I don’t care what other teachers think.

  If I had a big ass, like Auburn over there, I would show it off. Not hide it. But instead, I have a tight little butt, which is fitting of tight little shorts. I also wear a cute, flowered, aqua summer shirt, with the buttons unfastened down to my cleavage. It’s not that much of a big deal, considering that my breasts are not that impressive, but their pronounced in the way I like to display them, and I like when young men stare at my little tits, licking their lips while they fumble with their pencils and attempt to concentrate on the given task.

  I know they jerk off to me. I don’t know how I know; I just know it. Sometimes they can’t even hold it until they reach home, so they ask to go to the restroom, three or four at a time, until eventually every boy has released their loads by the end of the period. I have yet to witness a class being taught by myself, to go the whole duration of one period, without three-fourths of the classroom having used the restroom. The remaining quarter consists of females.

  I stop listening to the women speak of Ds. I turn to my own thoughts; thinking about all the young men I will be meeting today in science. I like teaching science because there is plenty of things to use in the lab, and when I say things to use, I’m talking about science toys, like beakers for instance, that I, sometimes, let students fuck me with. I do have to keep a close eye on students who fuck me though, because I’m very petite and they like to fuck as if they had never seen or entered a pussy before.

  If they can’t fuck me right, then I don’t want it; there is a passel of other cocks to be tested and I won’t be focusing my time on only one individual.

  For a brief moment, something captures my attention. I hear a voice becoming louder and louder. I look over, and realize that Auburn had been trying to speak to me.

  “Hey, are you substituting, those three days, for Mrs. Newport?” She smiles, tilting her head in question.

  “Yes…this is my first time here, actually.” I state averagely.

  “Oh, well how nice to meet you, I’m Ms. Umpteen.” She doesn’t seem to be playing fake, her kindness is genuine, which matches her beautiful smile.

  She comes closer for a hug. I quickly stand up and say, “Nice to meet you too. I’m Evalyn Pelley.”

  I return her amiable hug, and as I do, she says, “Do you give straight D’s or straight A’s?” she giggles.

  This is an easy code question that teachers ask me often.

  I say, “I like to give straight D’s, and I mean straight as an arrow.” I supply my comment with a furtive wink as I release myself from the embrace. She smiles, and then the bell gives a tintinnabulation, hinting first period will begin in ten minutes. All the teachers who receive Ds radiate with an aura; they smile, filling the room with gaiety. All the other female teachers walk out of the break room dreadfully, shoulders stooped, heading to what they consider their secondary home.

  As the happy teachers file through the door, I blend in and file through with them. I start towards th
e stairs, and take them two at a time to the second landing where my science class is supposed to be. I follow through walking with brisk steps towards door 128. The door is held open by a stopper, and inside, the room is filled with young men and woman who don’t seem too eager for science class. I don’t step over the threshold just yet. I give the students time to make it on the dot, before its time for me to close the door and begin session.

  Just when the bell rings, I kick the doorstopper to the side, and I guide the door, aiming for a silent shut, but something holds the door from closing. Matter-of-fact something schleps the door open. I release the door as I take note that a student is trying to pry for entrance. The young man looks at me with eyes colored of sprinkles, there was no clear color coat within his eyes, just a mixture of purples, blues, and greens, with a hint of gold.

  He says, “Sorry, it seems I’m late again. I had to speak with the coach. I hope you don’t mind.” He stares at me. “You must be the substitute.” he extends his hand in a hasty introduction.

  “Yes.” I say with a smile. I take his hand, or should I say he takes mine in his, and fills my entire arm with warmth.

  “So… what’s your name Sub?” He smiles, his cheeks are sharp, and come together at a solid chin.

  “I’m Ms. Pelley. Ms. Evalyn Pelley, and you?”

  “I’m Aric. People call me rock because once the football comes my way, it’s a solid guarantee that I will make a touchdown. I also run track and play basketball. Anyways, I think I better take my seat.” He releases my hand and instantly I feel as if something is missing.

  “Oh yes, of course. I heard the teachers speaking nice words about you Aric. Please, take a seat.” I say amiably as I guide him in with a gentle touch on the shoulder. I can feel his muscles moving. Solid and stiff.

  He brushes my chest with his right arm as he makes his way through the narrow opening. I inhale his dark scent of cologne and wonder which areas he sprayed today. The heat-presence of his touch still lingers on my hand. I grab the knob and close the door gently, do an about face, and I’m ready for my introduction.

  On the metallic whiteboard shelve, I spot dry-erase markers. Grabbing a black marker and popping the lid with an unnecessary loud sound, or perhaps the young crowd is being quiet , I write my name in long letters.

  Yeah, the crowd is quiet, I can hear all the squeaking sounds of the marker with each sharp turn of the letters I write. I turn around, puffing my chest, ready to speak.

  All the teenage girls are fingering their phones, while all the boys stare at rapt attention in my direction. I had not noticed, until now, that all the students wear uniform. The standard polo shirts, all in different colors, and either blue or khaki pants. The young men wear their shirts tight and pressed, with all their buttons fastened to the tip top, and tucked in. The girls wear their shirts, baby sized, with their shoulders visible, and none of their buttons fastened, showing the boys their still growing cleavage.

  Without hesitation I begin, “Hello, and good morning class! I’m Ms. Pelley.”

  I turn and hit the marker against my name, causing a quick click of a sound. As I perform the action, I hear, “Ms. I’d like to fuck that pussy.” Most of the young men start guffawing. Some of the young ladies just throw comments towards the young men, telling them that their dirty. But, that’s the way I like it. I wish I knew who said it, so that I can correct them at a later time. Instead, I pretend to have ignored it, and continue.

  “You all know how substitute day’s work, we’ll watch an educational movie, and call it a day. But first, I must do the standard roll call.” I briskly walk to the desk and try to find a paper with a sticky note and my name on it. After a few seconds of scouring the desk, I find it in one of the drawers. I take it and start reading off names.

  After a many present , here , yeah , I finish with the roll call. “Okay, so only three didn’t make it today?” I look up, watchful for someone to confirm my statement. Like always, no one answers.

  “Okay. You, your Linard, right?” He nods. “Can you please roll the television set in front of the class for me?” He nods again, gets up, and starts on his mission.

  I grab the movie sitting on top of the desk. Open the case, and take the disc to the DVD player, which is now centered in the room. These young men are always quick to do everything.

  I carefully insert the disc in the multimedia player, turn on the TV, and make my way towards the lights. I flick the switch off, and darkness engulfs the room. Instantly, I see about ten heads drop, supported by overlapping arms on their desks.

  Not even thirty minutes in, and three quarters of the class has fallen asleep. Only a select few have their head up—barely, swiveling on necks.

  I had been sitting on the desk, at the very edge, for most of the time, when I noticed movement at the back corner of the room.

  Aric waves me over, his mouth smiling sharply.

  I make myself over to him with quick silent steps. When I reach his desk, he has a worksheet splayed about with his pencil poised. To the side of him, I lean over and whisper, “Yes, what’s the problem?”

  He looks into my cleavage before looking into my eyes. “I don’t understand most of the abbreviations of the periodic table. What does F mean?”

  I lean in closer trying to inhale all of him, he smells rough, woody and earthy. My hand lands on his shoulder for support, palm curving to his round muscle. I murmur in his ear, “F is for Fluorine. That’s F-L-U-O-R-I-N-E.” with each whisper, I can tell that I’m sending hot shivers down his body. I feel it through the vibration in his shoulder.

  I look around again, and everyone is fast asleep.

  He starts to write the letters I whispered to him. His fingers start moving with pencil in hand, biceps contract and relax with each of his movements. I start throbbing between my legs, my thighs steaming from the hot brazier known as my pussy.

  I see him make a mistake, so I place my hand over his and say, “That’s wrong, it’s U-O, not O-U.” He drops his pencil, and stares at me with a smile. He moves his finger in a come-closer gesture, so I do.

  He starts susurrating, “I only wanted you to come over here. I don’t care about fluorine, Ms. I’d like to fuck your pussy.” A sharp smile lands on his face, and his dimples appear.

  I like to play the shy girl, and I would not think that he’d attempt something in a classroom filled with students, so I say, “Excuse me.”

  “I said, I want to fuck your pussy, and if your mouth wants some too, than by all means come under my desk.” He knows that as a student he has all the power in this situation, but most students don’t realize that.

  He inserts his hand into my shirt and starts grabbing my breasts. He fondles them with giant hands. His rough finger-pads feel good rubbing on my soft, little tits. I lean into his hands without trying to seem desperate, but he’s too quick to notice my intentions. He rips my bra from the front side, and holds it over his nose. He inhales and smiles at me.

  He’s so dirty .

  Without my red bra in place, my nipples strain against the thin fabric of my aqua shirt. The warmth between my thighs grows to a painful throb. My pussy burns for him, and it will only continue to accrue.

  “How old are you?” I really don’t care, but I inquire anyways. By the solemnness in his facial features, I’m sure he’s of age.

  “They always ask. Don’t they? But you don’t care. You just want to get fucked by some young cock.”

  The truth was there . I don’t care, and all I want is young cock in my pussy.

  Young cock all inside me.

  I reach over and massage him over his grown portion, fully erect and leaking pre-cum all over his khaki pants. He attempts to take my shirt off, but we are surrounded by students and I don’t feel comfortable being in that situation. What if someone sees me? What if someone walks in asking for me?

  I grab onto his hands. I shake my head side to side, but my hands become languid and let him undress me bare of the chest. My nipples
become hardened and exposed for the whole class to see. I almost want someone to catch me, to see my naked breasts perky and erect, but at the same time, I don’t want to be caught full culprit.

  As I have the thought, Aric stands up and starts sucking on my breasts desperately. I love how these young boys suck tits, hungry and hard. He places my nipple between his bottom lip and teeth, sucking with force so that my nipple glides over his wet lip and half my breast ends-up in his warm mouth.

  As he explores my tanned breasts, I slink over with hand to his bulge. I attempt to unbutton his pants, but his cock creates pressure that won’t allow for a simple task. I try many different ways with no success. Instead of helping me in my struggle, he continues to kiss my neck and fondle my tits—and kiss my breasts and fondle my neck. I think and cudgel on what I could do to open his pants.

  I push his cock towards his body, and try to unfasten the button with one hand. After a few exerting moments, his button comes loose. Quickly, I unzip his pants by pulling both sides apart and letting the slider-body run its copper tracks. I lower his Khakis down to his knees and briskly, with flittering fingers, pull down his boxer briefs.

  Just like that, his cock springs out, a lengthy, thick, hard beauty.

  Aric

  The doltish substitute struggled to take my pants off, though finally, she managed. Once she pulled my boxers down, my cock sprang out like a leopard in the jungle. Her eyes widen and move up and down to the movement of my bouncing cock. She grabs hold with both of her small hands and starts with mouth to tip. My head touches her lips. She sucks and kisses, coating my cock with her warm saliva. I gently sit myself down, dragging her head along with me. She sucks on her knees.

  Gauw-Gauw-Gauw, her throat sounds are heard. She takes it in; I help further with little movements of my hip. My hands decide to help even more by grabbing her at the back of the head and urging her to take more into her gulping throat. As her mouth becomes heavily lubricated with both my pre-cum and her saliva, I push her head down and hold it.