Disclaimer:
This is a pure work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people or events in this story is totally coincidental.
Warning:
Slow Build. Enjoy
________________________________
My name is Chelsea Varga and if you saw me now, you’d never guess that this wispy, 33year old, 5’4, chubby, dirty-blonde haired, timid, near blind, 190llbs, fat assed, titted and bellied soccer mom was once an Olympian. I can’t help but laugh at myself in contempt whenever I remember that sometime in the eternally distant past, I… me, yes the same one writing this now, once won the Bronze medal in Olympic gymnastics. To put that into perspective, I was once the third best female gymnast on the whole fucking planet. My sister Marcia was the first on that same day.
Yes, I have a baby sister who’s an Olympic gold medalist. How’s that for crazy? We both started training when I was 12 and Marcia was 8. And if there was anything like a perfect child, it was her. She easily excelled at anything she tried. Don’t get me wrong, she’s no slacker though, she’s a severe hard-worker. But she just seemed to have that magic touch that just made it all fall in place for her. She had a forcefulness, audacity and self-belief about her that just compelled people to let her have her way. Marcia always wanted to win. And she wouldn’t settle for less.
I on the other hand was more on the timid and concilatory side. I was mom’s favorite and Marcia was Dad’s. I think he saw in her, the son he never had.
It didn’t come as a surprise to me when Marcia won gold even though it was her first ever appearance at the Olympics (and my second.) I was truly happy for her. Since then, she’s gone on to win 2 more Olympic medals; silver and gold respectively, 5 world titles and countless national trophies. After she retired, she went on to start a super successful sporting assessories line and many charities. The last few times we saw, she’d just had her first baby Lance whom I adore. We used to talk every now and then though, but it seemed that as time passed, we just had less and less in common. I love her to bits though, and despite her seemingly aloof exterior I know she loves me too.
For me though, that bronze medal at age 18 proved to be the highlight of my career. For me, such success was too much for me to handle as an 18 year old and immediately after that, I quit gymnastics and sports altogether to the horror of my dad and coach. Mom was more understanding though, but dad was less amused. Although he grew more accepting, I still feel he’s never fully forgiven me.
I don’t blame him though; when it seemed like I’d finally begin to reap the rewards for the endless amounts of time and effort, I just walked away from it all.
But the fact was that I was petrified of falling short of the height I’d reached. I’d been shy of a medal in the last Olympics. But not winning a medal at all hurts different if you’ve won one before and I didn’t think I could bear that. Until now I still can’t shake that feeling that I failed my coach, country and especially my parents.
After my fifteen minutes of fame though, my life just seemed to sink into deeper and deeper levels of mediocrity. Whenever (and that’s pretty often) I feel my self esteem sinking to abysmal depths, I watch old footage of my past gymnast days.
But I don’t dare watch my Olympic or any other pro performances though, those always make me feel like an imposter and a coward. I only watch those of me as an amateur. I find it more soothing and relatable to watch me as a fault ridden toddler than as a pro teenage gymnast.
When I was younger, I used to be able to muster enough courage to watch videos of me as a dazzling, full-figured expert teenage gymnast girl. And on some rare occasions of otherworldly boldness I could even watch that cursed footage of me as an eighteen year old grinning ear to ear while yelling lies about hearing bombs bursting in air and watching ramparts alongside Marcia. But those got harder to watch as I got further and further away from what I used to look and feel like back then, until I eventually stopped watching them altogether because all they did now was shred my already tattered self image. I’ll never be that girl again.
Fast forward eight years and I finally get another chance to get something right. I met and fell in love with My college sweetheart Dennis Varga who is now a 36 year old successful dentist and the most blameless man I’ve ever met. I never even revealed to him that I was once an athlete. He found out shortly after our only child Samantha was born courtesy his YouTube recommendation and at that point, we’d been married three whole years and known each other for four. Can you believe what a slimeball I am?
I’d never seen him look at me with such awe when he found out. Nor can I remember him fucking me as passionately as he did that day and other days around that period. That was the highlight of our sex life.
Before that period, our lovemaking was pretty decent and fairly regular but nothing close to fireworks. While I loved his newfound lust for me, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that he fucked me while thinking of somebody else, even though that somebody else was me. So I surprised myself by begging him to never watch videos of my youth again, snd was even more surprised when he agreed not to or at least, so it seemed. Gosh I suck.
Since then though, things have kinda teetered down quite a bit. And I’m not even about to blame Dennis because despite his pretty busy schedule he makes time for us. I just wish I was more adventurous. But I totally love and respect my husband.
Anyways, fast forward seven years later and now I’m a high school librarian and let me just say sex isn’t on the top of our priority list. Maybe 12th or 15thish…you know, it’s there but just really really rusty.
I really do not need to work though, Dennis makes more than enough money. But with Samantha away most of the time at school and for ballet classes, I really needed something to take my mind away from my bouts of self-loathing and to give me a chance to feel like I can achieve something myself, at least once more. So I thought; what better way to forget about being an eigtheen year old than hanging around a bunch of eigtheen year olds all day. Right?
Well, that’s not quite how it happened. More like: too many compliments from Dennis about my cooking had me believing I was Colonel Sanders.
But then, the restaurants I applied at weren’t as upbeat about my skills. It also didn’t help that I had never worked before in my life and really had no job experience.
Then Dennis suggested I apply at one of his Clients’ school as they needed a librarian and books have always appealed to me.
Again Dennis beat me to it. I got the job and although Dennis swears he played no part, i still feel it was all him. God, what would I be without this man? (I think it also helped though that Mr Singh, my husband’s client seemed to suck at hiding his secret fetish for heavy bitches. Ha.)
Work at Chennayams High was pretty routine and uneventful like I liked it. Kids nowadays cared more about selfies than about self-help. Cheerleading and basketbalI was what Chennayams cared about. Needless to say, I avoided those arenas and their participants like the plague and thankfully they seemed to return the favor. I went by almost invisibly. I got to work first and left last, partly out of an old habit and in part a conscious attempt to limit the number of people I ever came across. The library was empty most times which was a true shame as it was the most well stacked high-school library I’d ever been in. It’d seem only Mr Singh ever drops by. But even he, never stays to read. He justs says hi in his usual awkward, geeky way and leaves with an armful of books for the next month or so it probably takes him to finish them.
Everything was going great until Mya; the school’s star cheerleader stepped into the library for the first time. Without intending to sound like a cynical bore, I wondered what a girl like Mya was doing anywhere near a pile of books. Now before you think I was just stereotyping, here’s a little about Mya: Up until then, this was the first time i’d seen her up close and alone. I’d only ever seen her from afar, on the school posters and flyers and on the internet whenever I entered curious, jealous stalker mode. And she was always surrounded by other cheerleaders or boys or just someone, doing one scandalous thing or the other. And visiting this nightclub or that resort. So I couldn’t help but be surprised to see her here and alone for that matter.
Mya had a reputation I was quite privy to. I am not judging but let’s just say: if men sowed oats literally, Mya’d make Mr Quaker’s fields blush. But really, could you blame her? The girl had it all and the world was her oyster. She’d dated literally everyone on the basketball team as her Facebook profile seemed to suggest. She’d been traveling the world since she was a toddler courtesy her media mogul dad and fleet of rich boyfriends. Again, thanks to Facebook’s inability to keep a secret.
Girls like that just didn’t visit the library; not necessarily because they were dumb, but because they didn’t need to. Or did they?
Everything about Mya’s visit tripped my alarm bells still. It was bad for me for two reasons: first, she reminded me of my past and second, wherever Mya went, everyone else followed. And in no time, if she decided she liked it here, the library’d soon be the place to be. Great.
It’s no surprise Mya’s the most popular girl in school. She has that all too familiar air of a girl who had the whole world wrapped around her fingers. She didn’t walk, she sashayed with a strut. She didn’t just talk, she forced you to hear. She didn’t just wear clothes. She dressed in such a way as to make you choke on your own passion and desire for her body; and what a body she had: she was no less than a couple inches shy of 6′, had silky, shiny luscious curly afro hair that seemed to grow out of her eyes, a butt that could only be achieved by a rare and perfect blend of fantastic genetics, superb hormonal balance, prime of youth and endless hours of optimum exercise.
Her breasts were average sized, but just the right blend of perky and firm and far from flat. I particularly loved(more like envied) how firm and toned her thighs looked. Toned thighs always looked best on black girls. And Mya had the best looking toned thighs of any black girl I’d ever seen. And she seemed to know it too, cos she always made sure her skirts never came anywhere near her knees.
I must admit I felt really small, ugly and insignificant sitting there looking up at this perfectly sculpted figure of prime womanhood. I’m ashamed to admit though, that her polite and cordial manner surprised me:
‘Hello Mrs…. Var…ga. Mrs Varga. I’m Mya’ she said, gazing at my desk tag with a rather sweet and chirpy smile.
I immediately felt at ease and returned her enthusiasm.
‘Hi Mya. Of course I know you, who doesn’t? And please, call me Chelsea. To what do we owe this pleasant surprise.’
I cursed myself after that last comment. But too late it was already out.
‘Ohh. So sorry, I didn’t mean it like…’
‘No worries Chelsea, I know you didn’t. But you’re right, I’m not exactly a book worm.’
God I’m an asshole. Thankfully, she didn’t seem offended and still had her smile on.
‘Anyways, I have a little favour to ask you.’
‘Well ask away.’ I replied trying to seem non-challant but mentally beating myself wondering what I could possibly help Mya with.
‘You see, I’ve got a huge crush on Marshal. But we are kinda… you know, like differently inclined and so our paths and interests never overlap. I know he spends most of his time here so I wanted to ask,…no beg you to tell me what kind of books he reads and maybe kinda like, you know, since you’re also pretty into books, help me talk a bit to him for me so that I could you know…, at least know where his… mind’s at.’ She said with an almost inaudible whisper.
I must’ve looked a confused mess as I squirmed and grimaced trying to remember who on Earth Marshal was.
Mya seemed to sense my dilemma and said rather bashfully:
‘You know, slim, tall, very quiet…’
And then it hit me like a thunderbolt:
Marshal! Damn. Of course that was his name. He introduced himself the first day we met. God how could I forget? He was nearly the only person who ever came around here and yet I couldn’t remember him. What kind of person am I?
But in my defense he was that kind of kid who didn’t really look like much at first glance. He was always very polite, considerate and respectful, would even ask me how my night was and if I had a good weekend on Mondays and throw in the occasional thoughtful compliment. Nothing flagrant though.
He was mostly quiet and alone whenever he came to the library. Though he was quite gregarious and talkative around his mates.
But what could almighty Mya possibly have seen in a boy like that? She’d dated star athletes and could get any guy she wanted. Why some oddball loner?
‘Can you help me?’ Came Mya’s voice, snatching me from my thoughts.
‘Mmm. I think I can. Though you have to promise to not engage in anything… like, you know….un-wholesome. I hope you catch my drift?’
‘O no I promise you Mrs Varga, I won’t try anything funny.’
‘In that case, I’ll help you do some digging.’
‘O thanks plenty Chelsea. I owe you big time.’ She chirped as she walked away like the giddy school girl she was.
Marshal didn’t visit the library that day but I was quite sure he’d be back on the next. When I got home that day, my head was still whirling from what I had just learned. So Mya, the most sought after girl in school, had a secret crush on the most unlikely boy in school and needed the help of the most unlikely person in the entire school to talk to seduce him. I couldn’t stop grinning like a fool. Finally, some spice in my boring life.
~Few Days Later At The Library~
I must confess, now that I think of it, Marshal is actually quite more intriguing than I’d cared to notice. I do admit now, albeit in retrospect, the more you looked at him, the more you sensed a certain depth, uniqueness and even…sadness that just pulled you in.
These past few days have been the first times I’ve ever truly paid attention to him and i’m ashamed to realize that I have been in such close proximity with a kid in such obvious need of connection on a near day-to-day basis but have been too much in my own head to even notice.
Have I really become so self-absorbed?
What if my snobbishness has rubbed him the wrong way and caused him to withdraw even deeper into his shell!? Maybe he even thinks I don’t like him! God! What kind of a mother am I?
I really need to make some much needed changes ’round here and besides, I promised to help Mya do some digging about him.
~Marshal’s POV~
Could Mya have been right about Mrs Varga or am I just ahead of myself and imagining or even wishing for things that aren’t there, or has Chelsea really been progressively more friendly and even sometimes flirty to me since Mya’s visit?
She has always been nice and cheerful, but she’s never seemed as attentive to me as she’s been these past few days. I’ve caught her staring at me a few times and she seems to move about a whole lot more than usual and her smiles are wider and last longer than before.
But..No it can’t be.
But still, what about her new clothes and makeup? It seems that her skirts have ridden up a good 6 inches higher than they’ve ever been, not to mention steeply tighter. And her blouses are getting more colorful. Gosh her yummy arse never looked better than they did on Tuesday in that sexy ol’ yellow sundress she had on. O Lord! Let Mya be right. Let her…
Chelsea coughs and smiles tepidly as she snaps me out of my last thoughts, driving me straight into a new one:
Why on Earth is Chelsea standing beside my table? And… is she leaning her ta-tas a bit toward me? Oh Lord this is happening. Okay comport yourself Marshal, it isn’t that deep.
‘O hi Marshal, sorry for barging in on your study time. But you know, I really needed to have a word with you.’
‘Oh. It’s no problem at all. Please excuse my absentmindedness.’
‘May I sit?’
‘On wh… mmh.. huh, yes sure please by all means ma’am.’
I replied as I shuffled slowly and awkwardly further-in on my bench to make room for Chelsea in a pathetic attempt at acting cool. I was trying to prevent Chelsea from seeing either the giddy, nervous teenager I was definitely feeling like or the massive boner threatening to lift my table off the ground if something wasn’t done soon. I seemed to be failing on both counts.
It would seem my reactions were giving Chelsea’s obviously gun-shy self esteem a much needed facelift as her coy smile could scarcely hide. Her effect on me seemed to spur a boldness and naughtiness I believe had been long buried. Her mannerisms seemed to suggest that she derived a perverse and dark thrill from seeing how far she could revv this shy, obviously inexperienced, dangerously libidinous kid nearly half her age. Now she was sitting close enough that our knees where almost touching. And although she’s always got great posture, I think her back is a tad bit more arched than necessary.
She’s showing her tits off to me!
Now there’s no doubt in my mind. Mrs fucking Varga is coming on to yours truly.
Is it hot in here?
So far, I have no reason to refute Mya’s claims of being an expert at female psychology. Just wow. Who’d have guessed that Chelsea could be so petty as to fall for such a cheap gimmick. Well, I sure as hell am not complaining.
~Chelsea’s POV~
Now that I was really looking at him and up close like this, I had to admit he really was quite handsome with sharp and bony features. He had very full and luscious dark brown hair too that he seemed to struggle to keep out of a pair of small, sparkling green eyes that housed a particularly inquisitive gaze. He had really thick, dark and lush eye brows that closely framed his upper eyelids, giving his eyes a pretty intense essense. He had jutting cheekbones, and a narrow, pointed nose and chin. I can’t help but compare him to Richard Ramirez. Only on the outside though I assure you. I even feel somewhat guilty comparing an innocent 18 year old kid to a callous serial killer. Marshal was a shy, sweet kid.
‘You see Marshal, the thing is i’ve noticed that you tend to be all by yourself most of the time which i find pretty alarming for someone your age. Not to sound critical or anything; In fact, being able to enjoy one’s company from time to time is highly commendable. I just feel like you might be overdoing it just a bit. Don’t you think it could also be fun hanging out with others too, sometimes?’
‘Well, Mrs Varga, I sincerely appreciate your thoughtful concern. But I really prefer things this way. I really don’t relate much with kids my age. We never seem to share the same interests.’
‘No shit.’ I thought.
‘Oh wow. Hmmm, so if you don’t mind my asking, what kinds of things interest you?’
‘I know it might sound ironical and maybe cliche, but I’m really interested in human psychology. You know, how people think and what motivates them. I also like business, which is also essentially about understanding people. So in a nutshell, I’m fascinated by people, although I prefer watching from a distance to active engagement.’
‘Oh dear, he really is quite the smartass. I can see why he might be scaring his mates off. He might really be more like Richard Ramirez than I’d thought too with all that people-watching.’ I mused light-heartedly.
‘Preach to the choir!’ I echoed in exaggerated approval which made him burst in the most heartfelt and genuinely uninhibited laughter I’d seen in a while. I loved the way his eyes would suddenly come alive when he smiled. Then his lips would slowly but steadily unfurl; tentatively at first, but then they’d get wider and wider until they blossomed into a beaming boyish grin. It was a pure smile. One that had seen too little of the disenchantment that is this world. A world I wished he never discovered.
After Marshal left the library that day, images of him kept replaying in my mind:
his rare and golden smile, the way he hung his head low and empathetically looked up into my eyes as he seemed to absorb every word I said, how he’d bashfully run his hand through his hair as he answered questions, how he struggled to calm the edgy tremor in his voice while trying to make his voice sound deeper whenever he spoke and the way he’d try to steal quick glances of my cleavage or ass when he thought I wasn’t watching. Kids.
But no scene occupied my thoughts more or made me smile like a silly schoolgirl like that moment when he hurried out of the library after kissing me and leaving a note with his phone number scribbled across it in between my boobs as our conversation began to get….intimate?
Gosh, after he left, my mind was a mush of all kinds of titillating, scary and overwhelming thoughts. While the kiss was unexpected given how shy Marshal normally seems, it just felt very well timed and opportune.
Am I a perverted predator for half wishing he’d have surprised me even more and run his hands up inside my chubby thighs until he felt how engorged, mushy and ready my pussy was in that moment? Am I bad for hoping he’d squeezed on my large womanly breasts or at least embraced me tightly while we kissed?
Oh God. I’d have melted totally in his hands……
But hey, he’s just a kid. The kiss he managed to give must’ve been nerve-racking enough. But a horny old slut like me could dream now, couldn’t she?
‘Mom. Mom. Mommy.’ Came a strangely familiar voice that got louder and louder. It could only be one person. But…?
Now I could feel Samantha tugging determinedly at my night gown.
O Lord, have I been dreaming?
‘Mom.’
‘Samantha! What is it? You should be in bed.’
‘But mommy I’m hungry.’
‘But we just had dinner and it’s barely… 2am.’
‘But I’m still hungry.’
‘Then go make your cereals.’
‘They’re finished.’
‘Already!? You know it’s too late to make anything young lady. So you’d just have to wait till tomorrow morning.’
‘But there’s bread and butter in the fridge.’
‘Is there? But… Hmm..Ok, Oh! No no no don’t you even go there evil genius, that’s your daddy’s breakfast Samantha and you know it! You know he has to leave very early tomorrow so forget about it. Thank your stars you asked me first!’
‘But he won’t eat.’
‘And how might you know that miss?’
‘I….’
‘No no. Shhh. What did we say about not thinking only about ourselves? You can’t eat daddy’s breakfast just because you’re a little hungry. You already ate tonight. So you’d just be a little patient till it’s morning ok sweety?’
‘Let me ask daddy if I can…’
‘Enough Samantha! Your daddy’s asleep and you can’t…’
‘No I’m not…’ came Dennis’ voice with a barely stifled chuckle. ‘…she can have the bread and butter.’
‘Thanks dad! Love you.’ Samantha chirped as she scampered away.
‘You hear that Dennis. Now I’m the bad one. I thought we agreed on presenting a unified front to her especially when it came to setting boundaries?’
‘Oh come off it sweety. The girl is hungry.’
‘No. She’s just being greedy.’
‘O Chelsea darling. You worry too much.’
‘And you worry too little.’ I scowled as I turned my back to him.’
‘Oh dear.’ I heard him sigh.
About an hour later, I could hear Dennis snoring gently. I couldn’t sleep anymore. My mind was still reeling from the dream I’d just had. I knew something was amiss; Marshal’d never have dared. But why was I having such a dream in the first place? This wasn’t good. And what if it was a bad idea to give Marshal my number and ask him to call if he ever felt he needed someone to talk to. I had no ulterior motives but he might get the wrong idea! I hope I haven’t made a horrible blunder.
~Around closing time at the library the
next day~
‘Why doesn’t Marshal ever show up the days you really want to see him?’ I thought as I prepared my things on my way out of the library that day.
It was a Friday which meant if Marshal didn’t show up, I wouldn’t have a chance to see him till next week. I lingered a bit trying to fritter away time, hoping he’d drop by at the last minute. It was now a whole hour after closing and now I was certain Marshal wouldn’t show up today and so I began to make my way home.
~Mya’s POV~
Ain’t pretty lil miss Varga a damn treat? So the bitch didn’t even need to be asked for her damn number before she don fucked around and handed it over. These hoes be trifling. Well thank you ma’am. Good thing she did cos I really coulda bet my ass that Marshal w’nt gonna have the balls to ask her. She really did outdid her bitch ass self making my job all the more easier for me. I always knew that beneath all the piety and dullness lurked a fiercely competitive dick slurper. Well, she bout find out that Mya’s the last bitch you wanna compete with. Shuuu.
I hope that Marshal fool did like I told him though and didn’t go to the library today cos these pretty niggas be on some other shit. I also know damn right he not finna text her because his bumbling ass sure as hell go’n get her neglected ass pussy dry as a mo’fucker.
I gotta text him and make sure he straight. Can’t let no nerdy ass fucker fuck up my plan.
[3:15pm] Mya – Yo Marshal
remember
u mustn’t text or
call her
[3:18pm] Marshal – Sure thing Mya.
[3:19pm] Mya – And u didn’t go 2 d
lib 2dy ryt?
[3:19pm] Marshal – Nope. U said nt
2 ryt?
[3:22pm] Mya – Yh. Jux 2 b sure.
[3:23pm] Marshal – Kk.
~Some time after~
I wonder what the hoe up to now. She prolly dozing the fuck off like an overworked slug. But what if she awake? You know what they say: if a bitch stay up past 12, she a ho. I’ll text her.’
[12:50am]Mya – Hi Mrs Varga.
It’s Marshal.
Ok, here goes nothing. What you go’n do Mrs V. What’s it gonna be?
[1:05am] Chelsea – Marshal? Wow.
What a surprise.
You’re still up?
I knew it Mrs V. You ma’am are one dick starved milf. Oh this is all so exciting. But I better not get ahead of myself. I gotta play it cool. But bitch, you mine.
[1:07am] Mya – Yes ma’am I’m
quite the
insomniac. It
seems you are
too yourself
[1:09am] Chelsea – Guilty as
charged. One of
my secret sins.
I wouldn’t
advice it
though. It takes
it’s toll with
time.
I wonder what other secret sins you got Mrs V.
[1:11am] Mya. – I guess. I really
shouldn’t have
texted so late. I
just really
needed to talk to
someone and
you’re the only
one who came
to mind.
[1:12am] Chelsea – It’s absolutely
fine Marshal I
assure you. And
I’m glad you feel
you could
confide in me. I
was really
beginning to feel
useless having
to sit all by
myself doing
nothing at the
library all day.
[1:14am] Mya – Yeah. That must
suck. I always
wonder how you
manage to cope.
[1:15am] Chelsea – I’m not
complaining or
anything
Marshal, don’t
get me wrong.
At my age,
sitting still isn’t
half as bad as it
might seem at
your age
[1:19am] Mya – Hmmm. If you
don’t mind my
asking Mrs V,
how old are you?
Just between us
as friends.
[1:21am] Chelsea – 😂😂😅
Marshal! You
should know it’s
rude to ask a
lady her age.
[1:21am] Mya – I know Chelsea.
But I was just
super curious
that’s all.
[1:25am] Chelsea – Why is my age
such an object
of curiosity to
you Marshal?
[1:25am] Mya – Well, it’s just
that you seem
way cooler than
any other
teacher I could
think of at
school and
you’re also by
far the hottest.
So I imagined
you shouldn’t be
that much older
[1:26am] Chelsea – Wow Marshal🤭
that was totally
unexpected.
That was
genuinely nice to
hear you say tho
Well, if you were
to guess, how
old would you
say I am?
[1:26am] Mya – 25. 27 tops
[1:27am] Chelsea – Oh my. Well,
sorry to
disappoint you,
but I’ll be 30 this
July.
[1:27am] Mya – No way. Then
you must
workout alot or
just have great
fucking genes or
both. Excuse my
language
[1:29am] Chelsea – No worries. I
won’t tell your
grammar
teacher. I don’t
think I’m any
good on either
counts though. I
guess might’ve
helped that I
used to be a lot
more active in
my youth.
[1:30am] Mya. – Oh. You must’ve
been a stunner
then for sure.
Any pictures?
[1:30am] Chelsea – I was alright I
guess and no
pictures for
now. I might
find one when
next I visit my
parents. Lol
[1:31am] Mya – So modest as
always. Can’t
wait
[1:32am] Chelsea – Well, enough
about me.
You’re quite the
conversationa-
list when you
come into your
own it seems.
[1:33am] Mya – You’re easy to
talk to and feel
comfortable
with.
[1:33am] Chelsea – That’s truly the
best thing I’ve
heard in a while
[1:34am] Mya – That’s the least
interesting
thing about you
[1:34am] Chelsea – Wow Marshal
🙆🙆 Who’d
have thought
you became
Prince
charming after
midnight.
Haha. Got me with that one bitch
[1:35am] Mya – I’m alright I
guess
[1:35am] Chelsea – Look at you.
Well, since it’s
compliments
night, you
might as well
tell me what to
you is the most
interesting
thing about me.
[1:55am] Chelsea – You still there
Marshal?
Gotcha where I want ya bitch. It’s the moment of truth baby. There goes nothing.
[2:01am] Mya – Your ass
[2:07am] Chelsea – Wow. Wow.
Just wow. What
can I say
Marshal you
sure took your
time to say that.
But I can
respect your
candour.
[2:08am] Mya – I’m sure your
husband must
go to the ends
of the earth to
give you
whatever you
want.
[2:09am] Chelsea – That he does.
But I’m pretty
sure it’s got
nothing to do
with my
ass…maybe
just a little bit.
[2:09am] Mya – Lol Chelsea. I
won’t argue
that.
[2:10am] Chelsea – Well, Marshal,
you should get
some sleep
now. It’s late.
See you
Monday.
[2:10am] Mya – You got it Mrs
V. One last thing
though, could
you please wear
that your yellow
sundress on
Monday? Your
ass always
looks stupidly
sexy in it.
[2:11am] Chelsea – Marshal! You
really are
something. Ok
I’ll see what I
can do. Now get
some sleep ok?
[2:11am] Mya – Ok
‘Monday Monday Monday! Where is thy sting? Bring it baby. Bring it. Marshal, you’re in for one helluva surprise.’ I mused elatedly as I made screenshots of Chelsea’s chats and sent to Marshal.
I was really sleepy myself and so didn’t wait for his reply before dozing with oblivious contentment.
~Monday Morning at the Library~
I never thought I could be so excited about coming to the library. All weekend I’d been all itches for this moment. Finally, I was gonna confirm my suspicions that Chelsea the good girl was really not good. And Lord what a sight she was. I could see the sudden edge in the bitch’s face the moment she saw me. But there she was sitting on that big ol’ rump of hers in the yellow sundress Marshal’d told me about. The very same one I’d asked her to wear! Bingo hoe, it’s game over for your ass.
‘O hello Mya. What a way to start the week. It’s great to see you again. How’s your weekend?’
‘It was splendid Chelsea. Hope yours was great too.’
‘Well, it was fantastic. Nothing crazy though, but just what a mom and wife like me needed.’
‘Oh. I truly admire women like you Mrs Varga. You manage to juggle work and family life and yet always look like something out of a male fantasy magazine. If only I were half as co-ordinated.’
‘Oh my world Mya. Now you’re just being plain ridiculous. Me, a male fantasy? Have you looked in the mirror lately Mya? Baby girl you’ve got it all. And what’s this joke about you needing co-ordination? You’re the school’s best cheerleader for heaven’s sake. Mya any more sweetness from you and I might get diabetes.’ She babbled modestly while blushing like a virgin.
Oh fuck, I was gonna enjoy breaking this one. This is easy work.
‘You know, I got something for you on Marshal.’ She said, trying to change the subject.
‘Oh really?’ I said feigning eager delight.
‘Yes. I was able to get him to open up a bit and you might like what I found.’
‘O tell me, tell me Mrs Varga. Tell me everything he said.’
‘O, that I’ll do dear. Well, although he may seem to be in his head alot, you really have nothing to worry about talking to him. He’s really nice and warm to talk to. He really is a passionate listener too who’s naturally fascinated by people. You shouldn’t have a problem with him. Just let him see your more engaging and vulnerable side, not the ice queen persona you’re known for. That might make him feel a bit intimidated making him shut down even further.’
‘Were you able to find if he has a crush on anybody?’
‘Well, I really didn’t ask. But I also don’t think he’d have told me. You really worry too much Mya, just give it a go. You’ll be fine.’
‘Ok. If you say so Chelsea. I’ve really got to go. Thanks a bunch. You have no idea how much this means to me.’ I said as I hurried out of the library.
I’d done my part with Chelsea and I did it damn well. Now I just had to let Marshal do his. I hope to God he doesn’t fuck it up. I’d done the hard part that he was all so jittery about. I’d gotten her on board, now you just have to drive that shit home Marshal, drive that shit all the way home.
I found Marshal and gave him the new phone and Sim card I’d been chatting with Chelsea with so he’d pick up from where I’d left off until he could get substantial dirt on her that I could use for blackmail. If all goes accordingly, then I should have her munching my eager pussy before Friday.
~Marshal’s POV~
‘At this point there was no doubt in my mind that Mya must be clairvoyant or something. How does she manage to know everything and everyone beforehand. God I was a mess of nerves when she first told me her plan. I was so fucking worried Mrs Varga would flip if Mya ever attempted this stunt. But look at me now, on my way to fucking the hottest teacher in school. I’m glad I risked being her fall guy. It was so fucking damn worth it.’
I mused contentedly as I watched Chelsea from the far right rear row of the library that’d become my favourite spot.
We’d exchanged a few glances since I walked in, although nothing too obvious as there were some kids and a teacher in the library too. I’d tried everything I could to find how what she might be thinking now. God! I couldn’t even get her to look up from the book she was reading at her desk. My mind was spinning with millions of possibilities.
How I wished we were alone. I had to know what she thinks of the chats.
Oh! I’ll text her!
[12:40pm] Marshal – Has anyone told
you how
ridiculously sexy
you look while
engrossed in a
book?
Damn. I was still a nervous wreck even at this point. I was still scared she could wake up now and stop it all. The moment I hit send, my stomach twisted and churned harder than it ever had. Crap. Was that too forward? Maybe I should delete the chat before she sees it.
Too late! My breath came to a standstill as I heard her phone ping!
Boom. I must’ve looked like I’d just been revived from an epileptic fit as she took her phone and began to read! The AC seemed to blow hot air as I shriveled in my seat. I tried so hard from where I sat to play Sherlock Holmes. I don’t know if I couldn’t read Jack shit because I was too deep in the room to make anything of her expression or because she was an expert at hiding her reactions or because I just sucked at reading people.
Then she looked up at me with the best poker face I’d ever seen. Then….
[12:42pm] Chelsea – Typing…
– Typing…
Then she looked up at me and I could swear I saw the faintest of smiles. Was she flirting with me or was she just amused by me? Maybe I should apologize. Then…
[12:42pm] Chelsea – You Mr would be
the first
You know that feeling you get when you die in a damn near impossible mission in a game just before you reached the end, but then find out you had a bonus life you’d forgotten about. That about describes how I felt when I saw that reply.
Up until then, there was still a small part of me that thought this was all just one of Mya’s mean jokes. Lust. Pure lust is what got me going this far. Sense had long left the building. Just pure, raw, thoughtless lust was all I had to thank for this. Now it was clear that Chelsea knew that I liked her and she had no problem with it!
[12:42pm] Marshal – Could you pull
your blouse
down a bit so I
could see more
of your glorious
cleavage?
At this point I’d reached the point of no return and I was gonna milk this cow for all it’s worth.
[12:43pm] Chelsea – Hmmm, naughty
Señor.
My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as I read that and looked up to see her look around coyly before tugging her blouse so I could see more than halfway down her black bra which housed her wantonly large breasts. She even jiggled them a bit! And then she was back to normal. Who knew Mrs V was quite the exhibitionist!?
Mya perhaps.
[12:45pm] Marshal – Amazing. What
color of panties
do you have on?
[12:46pm] Chelsea – Blue with white
polka dots
I swallowed hard.
[12:46pm] Marshal – Take them off
and bring them
to me.
[12:46pm] Chelsea – OMG Marshal!
Right here?
[12:47pm] Marshal – Yes bitch. Find
a way. And no,
you can’t leave
the library. And
no excuses!
Now I could see the panic clearly plastered on her face as she shot me a look that showed pure desire mixed with anxiety. The shoe was on the other foot.
Right now I felt such confidence and certainty that I felt I was literally just levitating above everyone else at that library and the world even. Nothing could stop me and no one could say no to me.
Then Chelsea began to get up from her desk. Then she made her way to the books section and made as if to find a book. All the while my eyes never leaving her. Finally, she completely disappeared behind one of the shelves save for her head. Next, I saw her do a double take on the room before her head also disappeared for a moment before reappearing and then she started walking back to her desk with a new book. God my eyes could have bored a hole in her ass as I watched her walk back to her seat.
[12:53pm] Chelsea – Come get them
[12:54pm] Marshal – No. You’ll walk
over here and
hand them over
nicely. You
don’t wanna be
rude now do
you Mrs V?
[12:58pm] Chelsea – No Sir
[12:58pm] Marshal – Great. Now be
a good girl and
come hand
them over and
give me a nice
flash of that
fat ass of
yours on your
way back
She dropped her phone after reading that and my confidence slagged a little bit. Then almost immediately, she began to rise from her chair causing my dick to rise with her as she started to walk towards me holding the new book in her hand. The closer she got, the redder she seemed and the harder my dick got. Then she stopped at my desk and pulled the blue material from the book and hurriedly dropped it at my table. Then she turned around and raised her yellow sundress to reveal the object of my countless jerk off sessions in all its fleshy glory. If it wasn’t for the lone student remaining at the library that day, I’d have fucked her right then and there. But I managed to turn my camera on in time and took some shots.
And by mere freakish chance, she just happened to look back at me in a classic pornstar pose just as I clicked. The sudden switch from lust to horror on her face as she saw my phone could only be adequately described by the pictures I had of her. She immediately covered her ass and if not for that kid there in front, she’d have fought me there. Then she rushed to her desk and began to type on her phone with urgent fingers..
[1:05pm] Chelsea – Omg Marshal
you took
pictures!
Pls pls pls
delete them at
once. They
could ruin me
forever if they
ever got out.
[1:05pm] Chelsea – Marshal. You know I’m married. Think about my family, my job. Whatever little kick you hope to get from seeing an older woman’s ass pales in comparison to the consequences for me.
[1:06pm] Chelsea – Please be reasonable Marshal. And I am not blaming you at all for this. It’s all my fault for letting things escalate till this point. I’m the adult here and take full responsibility.
[1:07pm] Marshal – Relax Chelsea. What kind of person would I be if I made this picture public. It is just for my private enjoyment. Gosh I really needed a copy of that bubbly ass of yours to jerk off to nothing more. I promise.
[1:08pm] Chelsea – No no way Marshal. It’s too risky. Please delete them at once.
At that I stood up from my seat and began to approach the exit. To say Chelsea looked livid was a gross understatement. I all but ran out of the library because I was almost sure she’d have followed me out.
[1:12pm] Marshal – Rest easy cuteness. You’d have done the same if you were me. God. Would you really have agreed to delete this?
I hit send just as I was about to enter my class. Then I sent her the pictures of her ass.
[1:13pm] Chelsea – Damn you Marshal. Damn you to hell.
[1:13pm] Chelsea – This is how you treat a friend right. My only sin was trying to be there for you.
By the time I got home that day, I’d received no less than two dozen texts and forty missed calls from Chelsea. For some twisted reason, I enjoyed her misery. I knew Mya’d too. So I sent her snapshots of everything including the pictures. I knew it was wrong. I knew it could ruin Chelsea. But for some reason, I really wanted to show off to Mya and whoever else for that matter. It was selfish. It was evil. I know. But I couldn’t help it.
But I wasn’t totally the evil villain though, I only sent them to Mya!
~Mya’s POV~
I choked on my milkshake and nearly spewed a mouthful of my breakfast on my mom when I saw the picture of Chelsea’s round, chubby mature ass in the most obscenely amusing pose I had ever seen. I first thought it was some photoshop trick or something. But as I went through the chats, I found they were real. I received the messages from Marshal this morning just as I checked my phone during breakfast at the kitchen dining. My mom shot me a look of pure scorn as she hurled a towel to me to clean my messy side of the table.
‘Bitch keep that shit to your damn self. Always with the stupid phone.’ She spat.
‘Sorry it was just…’ I offered.
‘Nobody cares.’ volunteered Terrence my brother in his signature devil-may-care style while never raising his face from his bowl of custard. Gosh. I just wanted to slam his face in the damn custard. He probably wouldn’t see me coming with that hoodie thing he’s always wearing. He thinks he’s Eminem or something.
‘She thinks everyone else just lives to spectate her bullshit.’ Mom co-signed.
‘Okay damn you both.’ I shot back at both of them as they both chuckled condescendingly.
Sometimes I just hate their guts. They are always on each others’ throats. The only time they ever seem to agree on anything is when they pick on me.
Times like these are when I need dad. He always has one for them. But now work got him. He’s my only real ally in this house.
When I was in the mood I wasn’t such easy pickings for either my mom or brother though. It usually didn’t even matter if they teamed up against me. But today I had better things on my mind.
‘Y’all can shove the last word up yo asses today, I’ve got something better to deal with.’ I replied dismissively while humming victoriously as I made my way outside to my car. The perplexed look plastered on their faces would stay with me for weeks.
As I drove, I was still in a giddy haze from Marshal’s texts. To say I was impressed would be calling hell warm. I really underestimated Marshal. But you know what they say: It’s always the quiet ones. I was reading through his texts a second time when my phone began to ring; it was Marshal. Speak of the devil I thought as I picked up.
‘Hey Mya. Seen the snapshots I sent ya? Fucking awesome innit?’ He gushed in his cute cockney accent.
‘I just did Marshal. You did good. But we can’t celebrate just yet. Things could still grow stale. So you should let me handle things from here. Don’t go to the library anymore till I tell you to. Do as I say and I promise you’ll get your reward pretty soon. But if you choose to get impatient and go behind me, then you have yourself to blame. Do we understand each other Marshall? I asked, with the most impassive tone I could manage.
‘I got you Mya. I’d never do that you know. I trust you Mya. So, see you in class eh?
‘Yes Marshal. And Marshal…’
‘Yeah Mya. Still here.’
‘You did well.’
Then he muttered something excitedly before killing the line.
I think he bought it.
By the time I hit the school tarmac, I already had a plan laid out in my mind. I quickly checked my timetable and saw I didn’t have any classes scheduled for now. Perfect I mused as I went straight to the library.
My head whirled in despair when I reached the library and found the door locked. Had Chelsea thought resigning and making a run for it a better option than sitting around in hopes of salvaging the situation? My head was still spinning with possibilities when I heard Chelsea from behind, ask with thinly veiled apprehension in her voice.
‘What are you doing here so early Mya?’
You can’t believe how relieved I was to hear her voice.
But when I turned around to face her, my face was pure contrition as I spoke.
‘O so sorry Mrs Varga. I didn’t know the library was closed for now. I just had nothing to do right now and so thought I should spend some time here.’
‘Oh please Mya I should be the one sorry for using such a tone. I..tt it’s just no one ever comes around this early. So I was just a bit surprised to see you here at this time. I thought something might be wrong.’ She gushed as her disposition morphed from defensive to totally remorseful. God she was so sexy.
I stepped aside as she unlocked the library. Her countenance not completely relaxed yet. I noticed her tense up totally and giggle self consciously when I remarked that I wished I had an ass as big as hers. After a whole episode of awkward fiddling with the keys and locks interspersed with nervous giggles, perspiration and fumbling over words, she managed to get the damn door open as she meekly said:
‘Oh c’mon you’re just okay Mya.’
Then she began to walk in as though eager to get away from me. When we were both safe in the library I continued on to follow closely behind her. As she made to draw the library drapes, I reached from behind and cupped her humongously heavy udders from behind.
That’s when all hell broke lose.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing Mya! I’ll need you to leave this place right now and never come back or I’ll have to report you to the school authority.’ She flared with self righteous indignation. In that moment I couldn’t help but feel intense loathing toward her for her hypocrisy.
‘I think I’ll be staying right here. You can call whoever you want. But be sure you have an explanation ready for them as to why you sent a nude photo of yourself to a student.’
I had to call out that last part a little loudly as she was already almost out of the library door by the time I’d finished. The immediate switch from the previous self conviction that’d nearly bordered on haughtiness to her new aura of total defeat and dejection nearly made me cum.
‘Ww.. wh..what did you just say Mya?’ she said with rapidly sagging spirits.
‘Oh you’re hard of hearing now. Maybe your eyes are better. Is this clear enough for you?’ I snorted as I showed her the picture Marshal sent me.
‘Chelsea I don’t know who that…’ she began.
‘O c’mon Chelsea, you’re smarter than that. I saw everything! The texts all of it. There’s no way around this. You’ll just have to come clean.’
‘Oh God Mya. I’m so terribly sorry. I don’t know what got over me…’
‘Oh i know exactly what got over you: jealousy.’
‘I’m not…’
‘Shh sh. I’m not finished. You’ve always been jealous of me. I see it in the fake smiles you make around me. I see it in the scornful way you stare at me when you think i’m not watching…’
‘Mya that is not…’
‘I’ll not warn you not to interrupt me again slut. You shut up while i speak. Got that bitch?’
‘Yy..ess’ She replied conceding defeat.
‘You tried to seduce Marshal because you wanted to beat me at something. You saw Marshal as a chance to one me up. And guess why? Because i remind you of your sister!’
I watched all the blood drain from her face at that last comment.
‘Oh c’mon Chelsea, how long did you really think you could fly under the radar before someone searched and found that you’re Marcia Morrison’s big sister?’
She seemed to be having difficulty maintaining her balance and so leaned on one of the desks for much needed support. She made to say something in defense but then quickly discarded the idea. She was a fast learner.
‘That’s right Chelsea. You have always been a joke compared to your sister. And even though you act like you’re ok with it, it eats you up everyday and makes you feel worthless. Deny that you feel like a no good, piece of shit failure Chelsea?’ I could see the sudden hate flare in her eyes as her posture became aggressive. I thought she’d hit me, but then the rage in her eyes turned to fright and in that moment I knew I had her. Then I menacingly invaded her personal space, causing her to lean further back on the desk with her hands behind her and her eyes avoiding mine.
‘Stay right here and don’t move!’ I barked as I walked towards the door. As I backed off from her, she let out a gasp that was a hot mix of relief and disappointment. I locked the door from inside and closed the curtain Chelsea earlier opened. Then i slowly walked to Chelsea like a predator homing in on a trapped prey. Like i had ordered, Chelsea was rooted to where i’d left her, although she was sweating like she’d just walked out of an oven. She seemed though to have mustered some new token resolve and courage but she progressively lost those as i got closer.
When i was about two feet away from her, she bolted upright in what seemed like a final attempt at a retort.
‘What do you wan..?’
I slapped her hard across the face and her face immediately flared in anger but in a second, it was gone. Along with it was every last shred of a fight or dignity left in her. She seemed to have accepted that she had no leverage in this matter and that her best option would be to bid her time and do what i say.
By the time our faces were merely less than an inch apart, her will broke and i could see the tears she’d been strongly trying to hold back all this time, begin to crawl out the corners of her eyes and down her colorless cheeks. And then it happened:
Chelsea crashed on her knees and grasped my legs in a desperate embrace as she started to bawl in tears.
‘Please please Mya please. Don’t tell anyone about this. Please Mya i’d die of shame if this got out. I’m so terribly sorry Mya. I know i deserve whatever retribution you decide to give me but please Mya temper justice with mercy. O please Mya forgive me. Oh God i’m so ashamed.’
I thought i’d feel some form of pity for her, but I seemed in that moment to have run out of any kind of sympathy. All I felt then was utter disdain and disgust. The contrast between her usual sanctimonious air and her current state of utter disgrace only made me want to puke.
‘Enough whore. Get your hands off me and stand on your feet this moment.’ I ordered as authoritatively as i could manage.
She complied.
‘Now here’s the deal: you have two options. It’s either you agree to submit your body completely to me to use as i see fit to keep your job, family and reputation or i show this picture to the world. You know that wouldn’t take much. My dad is heavy in the media industry you know.
So make your choice now. What’s it gonna be Chelsea?’
‘I’ll let you have me.’ she replied with surprising eagerness. I thought she’d spend some more time trying to barter a better deal or trying to beg for mercy.
God i hated how pretentious she was.
‘Good. From now on, you’ve given up the right to refuse any sexual act I demand of you no matter the time and no matter the person i order you to service.’
Her face immediately contorted in worry and she seemed to want to say something. But again, she thought against it but the look of dire concern never leaving her face.
‘You may speak.’ i commanded and she wouldn’t even let me finish.
‘Mya…’
‘That’s mistress or ma’am to you.’
‘Oh. Mistress Mya, it’s too risky bringing in third parties to this and carrying out sexual acts in places or times without prior thoughtful planning can prove disastrous. You did promise to keep this between us if i agreed to be your sex o..bject.’ She said, some of her prissy airs returning.
‘Bitch this ain’t no motherfucking negotiation. You do what the fuck i tell you, whenever the fuck i tell you, and with whomever the fuck i tell you.’
‘But mistress, what if someone recognizes me?’
‘Whore did i give you permission to speak?’ I asked as i grabbed her throat with my left hand and rode her skirt all the way to her lacey panties that housed a sweltering, drenched pussy.
That seemed to do the trick as she let out moans of pure ecstasy.
‘I see words have little effect on you. This is what you understand isn’t it slut?’ i asked while i furrowed mercilessly at her hairless slit.
‘Yee…sss Mistress. Ohhh mmmph. Yee..sss. Fuck.’ She mumbled with eyes
rolling back in such sheer lust that she did nothing to hide.
‘That’s right whore. This is a reminder of who owns your old little pussy. Understood?’ I asked, while punctuating my last word by fingering her pussy eith all the intensity i could muster.
By now every atom of resistance had faded away and i scarcely recognized the woman who was so brazenly assaulting my fingers in what seemed like demon possessed desperation. Chelsea humped my hand with such earnest that it seemed she was willing to give her whole life away for the orgasm that was building.
As she was nearing her climax, i grabbed her right hand and placed it on my own needy pussy. She quickly found my clit and began to guffaw at it as i demolished her’s. Chelsea was a sight to behold when she came. Her legs seemed to go crippled as her entire body writhed in a violent fit. I felt her entire body go totally limp during and after the orgasmic wave as she mouthed every obscenity imaginable. Her words went from solicitory to encouraging to threatening and finally to pleading. It seemed she’d completely surrendered in my arms and my embrace was all that kept her standing.
I didn’t get to cum. The spectacle before me left me too shocked to orgasm. The pleasure i derived from this was more mental than physical. At first I had wanted to draw out the repressed desires I knew Chelsea had and I had thoroughly enjoyed every bit of that journey. But now they had come out, i felt a bit overwhelmed by the amount of power i had over this woman. The extent of the emotions Chelsea just displayed scared me quite a bit. I literally had her destiny in my hand and I wasn’t sure what weilding that amount of power and authority over someone could entail.
After her high had abated and she could manage to sit, i ordered her to hand over her panties. She complied like a mindless zombie.
‘You’ll go all day today without panties.’ I teased. ‘So you always remember what a pathetic old slut you are. When next you see Marshal, you must let him do anything he wishes with you. Got that slut?’
She merely nodded in what looked like a drunken stupor. But after i mentioned Marshal, the deranged looking smile she’d worn on her face the whole time was suddenly gone. In it’s place was an expression of barely contained panic. It seemed like the reality of what she was in had suddenly hit her.
I left her with her thoughts and walked away.
~Marshal’s POV~
‘I’m gonna have sex. I’m gonna be shoving my dick in someone’s tush. I am the man. I am the motherfucking man.’ These words and similar sentiments kept replaying in my mind all day and right now as i’m heading to the school’s basketball storage room where i had asked Chelsea to meet me after school. My head is dizzy from all the excitement i’ve been bottling since Mya gave me a go-ahead this morning. I know it’s silly but it just felt like someone would read my thoughts and know what was going to go down and stop my joy before i could feel it. So i’d tried to act normal all day, but right now I was ready to burst.
The way to the storage room was clear as it usually is during off-seasons like this. So far, God seemed to be on my side. But the closer i got to the room, the fiercer my guts clenched. Would i really get to fuck Chelsea? Would she come? What if we got caught? By the time i was at the door, i was a sweating mess of nerves. I was still trying to calm my damn breathing down and rehearse my lines for the final and one millionth time when as if by black magic, the door opened itself to reveal Mrs Varga with a look made up of terror, anger and lust plastered on her face. I stood there speechless for a moment, trying to form some kind of apology amidst my mouth hanging and staring like a moron at Chelsea’s braless tits and nipples which were just begging to be freed from the cream silk shirt she had on. Only after Chelsea pulled me into the room and shut the door did i realize that standing alone with a female teacher in a secluded place like this’d have been hard to explain! By the time we were both behind the door, Chelsea was a blazing fire.
‘You betrayed me Marshal!’
I was gonna say something, but she beat me to it.
‘Now fuck me like the cheating slut I am Marshal!’
‘You like playing naughty and tricking your way into your teacher’s ass right? Now you’ve got what you want haven’t you Marshal?’
She pushed me to the wall and grabbed my dick a little harder than i’d wanted before my back got a chance to hit the wall.
‘Oh, seems little Marahal isn’t so little after all. C’mon bitch. Give me that hard young cock!’ She said as she pulled my dick out.
Not wanting to be outdone, i went straight for Chelsea’s boobs. They were my favorite part of her body. I rubbed greedily on two of them for a while before freeing them both. I buried my face between her giant orbs and the musk that hit my nose was like nothing i’d ever smelled. It was a very intoxicatingly primal smell which i knew i’d soon get addicted to. I’d never touched real breasts before and they felt way softer than i’d imagined or was it because Chelsea was a milf? I wonder if Mya’s breaats would feel firmer. I didn’t care about Mya or anyone else for that matter right now though. I rubbed, sucked, licked, flicked and blew raspberries on Chelsea’s tits all of which made Chelsea howl like she was possessed by some sexual demon. I pulled her butt cheeks close in a tight embrace as i french kissed her like i’d practiced endlessly on my pillow.
I was a maniac. My motto for that moment was: try everything. Chelsea turned around and began to grind her booty on my dick. Oh Lord did i lose my shit! The vigor and verve Chelsea’s lower body could muster made her seem in that moment, more like Serena Williams than some library teacher. Damn she had some strong glutes and thighs too. She must do loads of squats. I could feel my lower spine painfully grating on the walI due to her gyration but i wasn’t about to ask her to slow down. She could paralyze me for all i cared. The moment she let up a bit, I desperately raised her conservative skirt up to her waist and found her ass as unclad as can be. I was close.
PUBLIC BETA
Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the “A” icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here
Chelsea bent over in some freakish contortionist move that her head nearly touched her ass as she inserted my dick in her warm cunt. Warm doesn’t really do justice to the way her pussy really felt. Then I began to drive home. I thrust with all I had and Chelsea more than met me halfway. I grabbed her cushy hips for leverage as i dug her guts at a four thrusts per second speed.
She groaned in approval.
I looked to the side and seeing the contrast between her voluptuous thighs and my skinny own while knowing i was in charge made me gush with pride. I began to hit her with the hardest thrusts my hips could generate at a one stroke per two seconds rate while throwing in some hard spanks on her undulating ass every now and then. The sounds Chelsea made was making me approach climax a bit faster than i’d have wanted. Next, Chelsea shocked me even further by bending even further still and began to finger my asshole with her finger from under. The feeling was new, strange and seemed kinda gay but I couldn’t bring myself to ask her to stop. I was speedily nearing the wildest orgasm I had ever had. I was almost at the point of no return when I remembered I was yet to get a blowjob!
Chelsea clumsily toppled over while struggling to maintain balance as i suddenly withdrew my dick from her cunt and let her hips go. She ended up falling on her ass as she managed to avoid falling face first. She looked like an overfed cow trying to dodge cars on a highway as she struggled to evade the fall. A pissed off cow though, I might add.
‘What the fuck did you do that for Mars…’ she began furiously
I couldn’t even form an apology as i just raced across to her and shut her up with my dick. She immediately softened as she got the message. The moment her warm slippery tongue contacted the base of my tip, I roughly grabbed her skull with both hands as I erupted in the most hip revving orgasm of my life, unloading blobs upon blobs of semen straight down her gullet.
~Mya’s Pov~
My head slammed repeatedly on the school bathroom wall as i quaked from the orgasm I just had from watching the live action on my phone from the camera i’d installed in the storage room as I fucked my asshole with my 8inch dildo. I’d never had an orgasm that hard and i’ve had some hard ones. I licked my dildo clean as my body’s vibrations quelled. I thought of asking Chelsea to come to the bathroom and serve me, but what i really felt like doing was serving someone. Chelsea was a thorough submissive. And although i could be dominant sometimes, i really was a sub at heart. I needed someone who could really torture Chelsea. Watching Marshal fuck her proved to be way for satisfying to me than fucking her myself could ever be. But Marshal couldn’t be as ruthless as i wanted. Who could i find to both fuck Chelsea to stupor while i watched and be discreet about it too. For almost thirty minutes i sat on that toilet thinking and yet I couldn’t think of anyone.
And then as if God sent an answer to me, my phone rang.
It was Terrence!
Perfecto!