Carl And Deep Throat Headmistress

The shower the next morning was meticulous. Doreen went over every inch of Carl's body, razor in hand, pecking at any hair that had escaped her previous attention, making sure he was as smooth as the day he was born. When she was finished, she dried him with one of her pink towels and, squeezing some lotion into her hands and rubbing them together as she looked him over, like she had created him or something, began to rub the cream into his skin... finishing with his penis, which had never been less than three quarters erect this morning.

'Now, Carl, I want you to put on your pouch panties and wait like a good boy on your bed until I call you down,' said Doreen, as if she was explaining something that was difficult to understand. 'Do I make myself clear?'

'Yes, Miss,' said Carl, taking a new pair of pale pink pouch panties from her. As he went back to his room to tie the underwear on, he heard her going downstairs, putting on a kettle, clinking some teacups and then the doorbell rang. It was his headmistress, Mrs. Pearson, a fat, frumpy woman of a similar age to Doreen, whose usual uniform was a tweedy skirt suit that went well with her thick glasses and matronly hairstyle. She was the one that was always calling him into her office so that she could stare openly, brazenly, at his bulge. And now she was here to see him in these little pouch panties.

He heard Doreen open the door and then some chatter. They went into the kitchen. Carl heard more crockery tinkling then the pair of voices moved from the kitchen to the sitting room.

'Carl, you can come down now.' It was Doreen's voice. Carl's heart started beating hard, so hard he could actually see it. His penis, thank goodness, was the least hard it had been all morning, so at least he wouldn't have to walk into a room where his headmistress was waiting with an erection. 'Now, dear!' Doreen followed up, now a little impatient.

Carl stood, looked at himself in the mirror -- he looked ridiculous in this feminine underwear -- and headed towards the stairs. Each stair made his heart beat faster until he was at the bottom and could hear Doreen and talking. 'Just wait out there for a moment, Carl. I'll tell you when we're ready,' she half shouted out of the door. He stood against the wall, his practically bare buttocks touching her wallpaper.

'I can't thank you enough for including me in this little treat,' he heard Mrs. Pearson say to Doreen, just feet away in the sitting room. 'I've had my eye on this one all year. I've watched him playing soccer and noticed something bobbing about in the soccer shorts, if you know what I mean...' They both laughed.

'Oh, I know exactly what you mean,' said Doreen, with what sounded like a leer.

'I mean he's so tall and so well built,' continued Mrs. Pearson. 'I can't tell you the number of times I've called him into my office just so I could look at the lad. He always seems to have a nice bulge which... and maybe this is just my imagination, but which seems to get bigger the more you stare at it.' They both laughed again.

'In fact, I must repay you the favour,' said Mrs. Pearson. 'I have a... let's just call it a special spot - my "little office" I like to call it - right next to the male changing rooms with quite a lovely view through a mesh of the young men as they are showering and getting dressed. I've always tried to catch a glimpse of Carl in there, but I think he must get changed up the other end. I do have a lovely look at the other young men though. You must join me one day.'

'Oh that sounds lovely,' said Doreen, putting her cup down audibly. 'But now to Carl. Carl...' she said, her voice a little louder, though he had heard the entire conversation without any difficulty at all, 'you may come in now.'

Carl's heart started racing again, he felt his face flush but he closed his eyes, pressed his lips together and walked into the room. The two ladies were sitting in armchairs facing the door with a little table between them so as soon as he went through the door he could see them ready to look at him. Doreen's face was proud, like the cat who got the cream -- which is exactly what she was -- while Mrs. Pearson's face broke into a lop-sided smile of disbelief.

'Oh, my!' was all she managed to say as she ran her eyes up and down Carl as he stared at the carpet by her feet. 'Look at Mrs. Pearson, Carl,' snipped Doreen. 'Where are your manners.'

Carl looked up into Mrs. Pearson's face. Her tongue was lubricating her lips as her eyes drank in the sight before her. 'What a beautiful young man,' she said to Doreen, who told Carl he should thank Mrs. Pearson for the compliment.

'Thank you, Miss,' he said, looking into her eyes.

'I mean, look at the musculature. It's perfect,' said Mrs. Pearson.

'Turn round Carl...' instructed Doreen. He did as he was told.

'Just look at that back,' continued Mrs. Pearson. 'So strong for a lad of just... How old are you Carl?'

'Nineteen, Miss,' said Carl, grateful for the opportunity not to have to look at Mrs. Pearson as she drank him in with her eyes.

'And look at those buttocks, Mrs. Pearson,' said Doreen. 'Have you ever seen anything like them? So perfect, so hard. Why don't you have a feel?'

He heard Mrs. Pearson get to her feet and then felt a rather scratchy hand on one buttock, then the other, then both at the same time. 'Oh, yes, you're right. They are so hard.' All of this attention and the caressing of his bottom couldn't help but arouse Carl so, by the time he heard Mrs. Pearson take her seat again, he was dreading the next command.

'Turn back round, Carl,' said Doreen. He did as he was told, his hands obediently by his sides, his penis now fully erect and breaching the top of the little pouch panties.

'Well, what do we have here,' said Mrs. Pearson, gleefully, darting her eyes between Doreen and the sight in front of her. 'I guessed it was going to be big but this is extraordinary,' she went on, her eyes running all over it.

'I must say,' she went on. 'I do like this underwear you have got for Carl. What was the thinking behind those, Doreen? I can call you Doreen...?'

'Of course! The pouch-panties, which is all Carl is allowed to wear in this house, are so that I can keep an eye on him at all times,' said Doreen. 'I can see if he's excited... and he mostly is. You know what young men are like at this age.'

'Oh absolutely. You should see the erections in the changing rooms...'

'I would like to,' said Doreen.

'It seems like most of the boys are hard most of the time,' Mrs. Pearson went on. 'I can't tell you the times I've watched young men in Carl's class masturbate in the changing rooms when they think no one's watching.' And then, looking back at Carl. 'I like the way his balls look in the pouch-panties, pressed right up against the fabric like that, don't you? So pink, so smooth.'

'Well, they weren't smooth when I first got my hands on them, were they Carl?' said Doreen.

'No, Miss,' answered Carl, looking between Doreen and Mrs. Pearson, so as to be polite.

'Carl and I had quite the afternoon yesterday, getting him nice and smooth for you, Mrs. Pearson. I'm glad you appreciate it,' said Doreen.

'Oh, certainly,' replied Mrs. Pearson. 'I do love the veins in the lad's penis, don't you? So delightful. And I do believe we have our first drop of precum.'

'Move towards Mrs. Pearson so she can taste it, Carl,' said Doreen, as if it were the most natural request in the world. Carl took a step forward and his headmistress put out a finger, coaxed the droplet of precum onto it and put it to her fat little mouth where she put out a tongue and licked it while looking into Carl's eyes.

'Mmm, sweet,' she said, looking at Doreen. 'Delicious, isn't it? I can't wait to see the full load.'

'You may take the pouch-panties off now, Carl,' said Doreen, 'unless Mrs. Pearson would like to do it for you.'

'Oh, it would be my pleasure,' said Mrs. Pearson, reaching to Carl's hip and untying the panties so they dropped to the floor meaning he was standing completely naked in front of her, his penis so hard it was almost flat against his stomach.

'His testicles really are lovely, aren't they, Doreen?' she said, looking at the exposed scrotum with the two uneven but sizable testicles within.

'I don't know how they stay so big,' laughed Doreen. 'It seems that however much sperm you milk from them they never get any smaller. But yes, they are rather lovely. Why don't you feel how smooth they are?'

Mrs. Pearson reached out her hand and Carl felt the scratchy dryness of them caress his balls, making his penis actually twitch with excitement as she weighed them and rolled them in her hand. 'Oh, look, Doreen,' she said with a giggle. 'Carl's actually twitching in front of me. And there's another droplet of his delicious precum.' She reached under the head of his cock with her finger and harvested the new leakage.

'Well, it looks like Carl is ready for his milking, what with all that precum,' said Doreen. 'I'm sure you'd like to help me, wouldn't you, Mrs. Pearson?'

'Absolutely,' said Mrs. Pearson, 'but before we get to that, I need some photos. My friends won't believe I've been playing with such a handsome young man if I don't show them photos. Sit on my lap, Carl.'

Carl looked at Doreen for her approval and, as she gave a slight nod of her head, he lifted his arm to put around Mrs. Pearson's neck and took his place on her lap, her tweedy skirt scratchy beneath his smooth buttocks. Immediately he was seated, he felt Mrs. Pearson's hands all over him, her right hand feeling his right buttock, her left hand on his chest, his belly, the base of his penis, which was now even more vertical.

'My phone is in my bag, Doreen,' said Mrs. Pearson, her eyes still on Carl. 'There's no passcode so just go to camera.'

Doreen fished in the large handbag and brought out a phone, stood back a little and had to put her glasses on to see the screen and find the camera app.

'Make sure you get all of us in,' said Mrs. Pearson, posing with her lips kissing Carl's shoulder, her hand gripping the base of his penis so it stood up looking as big as possible. 'And take lots.' At this she started moving so she would have a selection of pictures to help her -- and her friends -- relive the experience: her hand cupping Carl's smooth balls, another holding the balls up to expose a glimpse of Carl's hole, her tongue out on his nipple.

'Bend down and kiss me, Carl,' ordered Mrs. Pearson, while Doreen continued to take pictures. Carl leant down and put his lips to the snaggly mouth of his headmistress only to feel her tongue probing into his mouth. He didn't feel he had any choice but to allow it and was soon snogging her as she rubbed her hand up and down the shaft of his penis.

'Oh, I think I have some good ones here,' said Doreen, eventually, feeling a little left out and possessive of Carl, seeing him deep kiss Mrs. Pearson. She held the phone towards Mrs. Pearson, who took it and, making Carl look with her, swiped through photos that looked obscene and strange, the buttoned-up elderly schoolmistress and the totally naked beautiful young man splayed on her lap. It looked like one of those pictures of game hunters with Carl the prey and Mrs. Pearson the proud executioner.

When she was satisfied that she had all the evidence of her exploitation of Carl that she needed, she put the phone down and said, 'OK, Carl, hop up. Let's get milking...'

Doreen laughed at this but was a little irritated by the way Mrs. Pearson seemed to be taking control of a situation when Carl was hers. But she swallowed her annoyance and clapped her hands briskly.

'Carl, would you like to take your position, like yesterday, please?' said Doreen, at which Carl walked towards the dining room and climbed upon the table, which had been prepared with a large white towel, and waited on all fours while he listened to the women chatting about some of the boys in Carl's class and how Mrs. Pearson had devised opportunities to look at them, like the implementation of the Speedos-only rule in the school pool so that she and the other female teachers could sit and enjoy the sight of 18- and 19-year-old boys practically naked in front of them. The diving was especially enjoyable seeing as she had had the lining of the school Speedos removed -- without the young men being any the wiser -- so that, as they bounced on the springboard, every detail of their penises and testicles were visible to the female staff.

Hearing these stories of his headmistress and all the female teachers looking at him and his classmates as they did their sports couldn't help but excite Carl and by the time Doreen and Mrs. Pearson came into the room, he was drooling a string of precum.

'Oh, my!' said Mrs. Pearson as she approached from behind. 'Have you seen the precum leaking from Carl's penis, Doreen? He really is in need of a milking, isn't he?'

'He certainly is,' said Doreen, 'but don't miss out on my handywork. Look at how beautifully I shaved his little hole. Arch your back, Carl, the way I showed you.' Carl arched the small of his back downwards, pushing his bottom out and opening the buttocks.

'Lovely, work, Doreen,' she said. 'And quite enjoyable, I imagine.' At which Carl felt the scratching finger of Mrs. Pearson on his anus. 'It does look delightful all smooth like this, doesn't it? And it feels lovely too.'

'Oh you wait until you see how it winks at you as he's about to cum,' said Doreen. 'So delightful.'

'Speaking of which...' said Mrs. Pearson, eager to get her hands on Carl's cock, leaking and twitching against his smooth belly.

'Well, why don't we just warm him up a little first...' said Doreen.

'Oh, I think he's quite warm already,' giggled Mrs. Pearson, looking at Carl's bobbing penis but she still started to stroke him, starting at his shoulders, feeling the muscles in his arms, feeling underneath to his chest, pinching a little at his nipples, feeling down to his tight little stomach, at which point she couldn't help feeling the head of his penis against the back of her hand, at which Carl gave a little groan that delighted her.

Then she went to his feet, while Doreen watched proudly, and massaged them -- even his feet were beautiful, she thought -- going up his calves to his thick football player's thighs, her hand brushing his hanging balls as she reached the top. But it was his hole that she seemed most fascinated by. She licked her finger and circled the tip of it on Carl's pink anus. Carl groaned again. Mrs. Pearson liked the idea that she was the first, or maybe the second, person ever to touch Carl here.

'Shall we crack on,' said Doreen suddenly, rubbing her hands together.

'Absolutely,' said Mrs. Pearson, mirroring Doreen's hand-rubbing.

'Now, usually...' said Doreen, 'I would use some kind of lubricant but as you can see, Carl produces so much of his own I prefer to use that...' And she reached under Carl, grasped his penis by the shaft and moved her hand up until it slid over the head of his cock, collecting precum as she went, and making Carl jolt as if he'd been given an electric shock.

'Collect some yourself, Mrs. Pearson,' she said, at which Carl felt his headmistress's scratchier hand first on the shaft of his penis then sliding up towards the head where she rubbed some of the streaming precum into the head of his cock, making him gasp and twitch.

'Quite fun, isn't it?' said Doreen. 'Squeeze it and you'll get more out.'

Mrs. Pearson squeezed harder, drawing her hand slowly up Carl's cock until she reached the head and harvested the precum that was freely dripping, then rubbed it around the head while Carl wiggled and gasped.

'And look down here,' said Doreen, drawing Mrs. Pearson down to see Carl's hole, which was already twitching. 'I love this part of him,' she said, reaching out and touching his perineum, the swollen lump running from the back of his hanging testicles to his anus. Mrs. Pearson put her scratchy finger on it and massaged it.

'I don't think he's going to last much longer,' said Doreen, 'so would you pass me that glass...' She pointed at a glass on a sideboard next to the dining room table. 'We can catch his sperm in this...' she continued, moving round to grasp Carl's penis.

Carl could smell her perfume, her hairspray, could hear the swishing of her tights as she moved around and could feel the grip of her hand, hear the jingling of her bracelets, as she started the milking.

'Now, I know you're very excited, Carl,' she said, speaking in that patronising voice she used with him, like he wouldn't understand unless she spoke slowly.

'Yes, Miss,' gasped Carl, biting his lips to try and control himself.

'But you know you're not allowed to cum until I give my permission. Is that clear?'

'Yes, Miss,' managed Carl between gasps as she continued to smear precum over the head of his penis.

'Please join me, Mrs. Pearson,' she said, over her shoulder. Mrs. Pearson walked to the other side of Carl and stroked his head, something that -- strangely -- felt particularly intimate.

'I'm on the helmet right now,' said Doreen, 'so why don't you start on the shaft and the balls?'

Mrs. Pearson took Doreen up on her suggestion, gripped Carl's shaft and held his balls in the palm of her other hand. The feeling of three hands on him was almost too much for Carl and he threw his head back and let out a loud groan.

'That's right, Carl,' said Doreen. 'Let it out... Just not the sperm. Not yet.'

Carl felt Mrs. Pearson's hand move back behind his balls as she kept her grip on his shaft, feeling the perineum and brushing a finger over his anus every couple of strokes. Carl could feel the deep throbs underneath him as Mrs. Pearson's fingers pressed. Not cumming was becoming impossible.

'Please, Miss,' he said to Doreen.

'What is it, Carl?' said Doreen, winking at Mrs. Pearson. 'What do you need?'

'Please, Miss. Please may I cum?'

'What do you think, Mrs. Pearson? Do you think we should allow Carl to cum for us yet?'

Mrs. Pearson joined the game. 'I'm not sure I'm ready,' she said, with a smirk. 'I think maybe I need a bit more of this before we allow the boy to cum for us. What do you think?'

'I think I agree,' said Doreen, supressing a laugh as she continued to torture the tip of Carl's penis. 'Maybe we should change over before we allow that to happen.'

And she relinquished the head of Carl's cock so that Mrs. Pearson's dry hand could take over, squeezing precum out of Carl and redistributing it across the sensitive skin of his helmet.

'Please, Miss...' breathed Carl. 'Please. I can't...'

'OK, Carl...' said Doreen, but even before she got his name out, the first spurt shot out and hit the towel.

'The glass,' said Doreen, who could feel the sperm rushing through the shaft that she still had a grip on. She leant back, her hand still feeling that swelling and spurting, so she could watch the perineum pump and the anus squeeze open and shut. It was all so delicious, she couldn't help but letting go of Carl's penis and burying her face in him, smelling his hole, gnawing on the pumping perineum until she could see her own teeth marks and lipstick smears right up inside the cheeks of his beautiful behind.

The glass had, thankfully, been found and placed under Carl's spurting penis in time to catch the second and the third and the fourth and the rest of the ropes of thick white sperm as they surged from the end of his cock, each with an accompanying moan. Mrs. Pearson was mesmerised, her eyes fixed on Carl and the glass being splattered with rich creamy cum.

As the spurts came to an end and Carl let a shudder roll through his body, Mrs. Pearson squeezed the last drops from him as Doreen laid her tongue flat on the young man's hole, feeling the last twitches of it and smelling his musk on her own skin.