Victoria Parker - No cherry cheerleader

Kelly Branson had just started her first year at Harvard High School, a private girl's academy. She walked down the hall of the school, looking delicious in her blue school skin. Her dark blue knee socks encased her slim, perfectly tapered teen legs, and her blue and white saddle shoes added to the effect.

Her white sweater, which completed her school uniform, fit her tightly and emphasized her budding tits which stuck out like juicy-ripe lemons. Her trim belly was flat, her hips supple, her ass a work of art.

There was no doubt about it, Kelly was one of the most beautiful and sexiest young teenagers who had ever walked the halls of Harvard High.

Her long brown hair was parted in the middle and braided into two long pigtails that had white ribbons tying the ends. The pigtails flopped over her shoulders as she walked. Her fine ass waved and wiggled under the tight little skirt.

Her five-one body was compact, her face one of youthful beauty, her cheeks flushed with pink blush, her juicy lips glistening with a pink gloss, and her brown eyes sparkling.

Kelly was just learning that men were attracted to her. In the summer before she started at Harvard, she noticed the way they stared at her as she walked through the mall.

She liked the way men looked at her. It excited her, and she wondered if there was something wrong with her for getting so tuned on by the way older men admired her.

Right now Kelly was headed for Mr. Clancy's office. He was her English teacher. She wanted to ask him about an assignment she didn't understand.

She came to his office, then without thinking, without knocking, opened the door and walked in.

Mr. Clancy was a handsome man in his forties. He was tall, lanky, had brown hair, a rugged manly face, and a well-muscled body.

He was sitting at his desk, masturbating, his prick hard and creamy, his hand jerking wildly.

Kelly gasped. "Ah! Ooooh, I oh! Excuse me, sir!"

The surprised teacher looked up at the darling student, who looked so splendidly alluring her tight sweater, her tiny skirt, knee socks, and saddle shoes.

Kelly bit her lower lip, and her face took on an astonished expression.

Her young eyes stared at Mr. Clancy's big prick. It was big, long, and thick.

"I-I thought I'd locked the door!" Mr. Clancy gasped, his jerk-stroke slowing to a dying pump.

"Jeepers, I better go," Kelly said, turning to leave his office.

"No, don't, don't. I was just thinking about you, Miss Branson. Come in, close the door. Lock it, will you?"

"Oh, gee, I better not," Kelly said, still gawking at his rigid prick.

But she made no move to leave other than her first turn. She trembled. Her heart thumped wildly.

Then she said, "Thinking of me?"

"Yes, that's what I was doing."

"Thinking of you and jacking off to you," Mr. Clancy said, taking the chance of his career, for he knew the young girl could report him to the headmaster and his teaching would be over for good.

Kelly stood holding the doorknob. She was excited. Her heart raced. What should she do? She'd never seen a man's prick before and she was fascinated.

There was her teacher sitting in his chair with his cock out, the tip all creamy and gooey, his hand clutching the thick, long stalk. What should she do?

"Well, what are you gonna do it I close the door, sir?"

"Finish masturbating to you, Kelly. Finish what I started, and you can watch if you like."

He started jerking again on his big prick. "Oh, wow!" Kelly gasped.

She closed the door and locked it, then leaned against it as she watched the handsome English teacher jerk on his prick.

Mr. Clancy's eyes gazed at Kelly's loveliness, and his hand thumped his prick with hot, quick jabs.

"Kelly," he panted. "You're so damn pretty! So damn sexy-looking!"

"Were you really thinkin' about me?"

"Yes, dear."

"And doin' that masturbatin' yourself like that while you thought about me?"

"Yes, oh yes!"

Kelly had her hand on the door for a quick exit, for she had not yet made up her mind about all this. She was fascinated by the masturbating teacher, but she was frightened. She was so young and inexperienced in these ways. She made a move to open the door. Her best instincts told her she should leave.

"No, don't go. I'll give you an A on that assignment the class is doing if you'll stay!" Mr. Clancy gasped.

"And I stay?"

"Well, okay, I guess."

Mr. Clancy was beating his prick-meat with a lewd, slurpy stroke. He was on the edge of his chair, hunched over.

"God, you're fine!" he gasped.

"Gee, well, thanks, sir, but"

"Would you pull that little skirt up for me?"

"Huh, my skirt? Up? No."

"Please."

"No!"

"I'll give you an A on the first test of the term if you will."

Kelly thought his offer over. Her mother wanted her to get good grades, and she'd been told she would get ten dollars for every A on her report card.

"Just pull it up a little?" Kelly asked.

"Yes, up over your panties."

Kelly didn't know what to do. She kept watching Mr. Clancy jerk his hot cock, his hand pounding, his prick spurting.

But an A on her assignment, an A on the first test it was a great temptation, but not as great as the hot intense stare that Mr. Clancy was fixing on her. His admiring face fascinated Kelly.

"Well, okay, I'LL pull it up," Kelly said. She reached down and lifted her little blue skirt, fingered the pleats, and hiked it up over the pair of snug, white panties that gloved her crotch like cellophane. The wiry brown curls of her fuzzy cunt-hair pressed against the nylon undies, making a puffy dark spot at her crotch.

Mr. Clancy's eyes opened wide.

"Oh, yes!" he cried. "Damn! Yes! Shit!" Then he came. His big cock spit out a high, arcing load of cum. The dream shot upward in big hot, thick jets.

"Oh, ohhhh! Ah! Jeeez!" Kelly gasped. She stood in sheer elegance, her little skirt held up, her fuzz-fucker pussy a little muffin of intrigue.

Her face registered excitement, fright, and amazement as Mr. Clancy jerked his prick and spewed thick wads of cum that flew as if they were in slow motion, spit high, then splattered on Kelly's bright, shiny saddle shoes.

"Oh, oh, ohhh! Ahhhhh!" cried Mr. Clancy.

Kelly looked up from his squirting prick and saw the look of pure pleasure on his manly face.

"Kelly! Kelly!" he moaned.

Kelly stood frozen in wonderment at the hot globs of jism that jetted from Mr. Clancy's spitting cock.

"You look so good!" he panted.

She kept her skirt up. She didn't know when she was supposed to let it down, and Mr. Clancy kept pumping, and the jizz kept flying.

He was hunched forward on his chair, beating his prick with short, hot chops. The copious cock-cream made a big puddle of thick juice at her feet.

"Ohhhh! Ahhhh, this feels good!" he sighed.

His hand was soaked with cum. Kelly trembled all over. Her pussy was all wet, splashing teenybopper cunt-juice into her white panties.

Mr. Clancy fell back in his chair, his cock dripping, his hand jizz-covered. He heaved a long, heavy sigh. Kelly dropped her skirt, unlocked the door, and fled down the hall.

She raced down the stairs to the girls' room, ran into a toilet stall, pulled her skirt up, tugged her panties down, and sat down on the cool, shiny-black stool. She slid out to the edge. Her legs were apart, her white panties a tight stretch of nylon just above her knees.

She sent her hand diving into her little cunt-bush and started finger fucking.

She came immediately.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!" she whispcred. "Ahhhhhhhhhh!"

It felt so good to her. Soooo good. She let the pleasure-tingle tickle her into a shuddering orgasm.