Detention 35

I shuffled my papers together on the front desk firmly, hoping to give the impression that I was not in the least intimidated to be assigned to watch over the students penalized with after-school detention on my first day as a new teacher in the district. I knew that I must look very young, a fact only compounded by my short stature, so I tried to make up for it by keeping as grim a face as I knew how to make, wearing large-framed glasses, and keeping my hair in a severely angled bob.

There were only a handful of students in detention this afternoon, thankfully -- although as I reviewed the list of names an administrator had handed to me just minutes before, which was the same time that I learned I was being assigned this duty, I was surprised to note that every one of them was a senior. Apparently the old software used to generate these lists also made it necessary to include the ages of students, so a column of five 18s stood out in faded dot-matrix ink.

I cleared my throat.

"Sharonda Egan?"

A fat black girl in the front row looked up to meet my gaze. "Here."

"Antonia Silvera?"

A chubby Hispanic girl didn't even raise her eyes from her fingernails. "Here."

"Jessica Axelrod?"

A white girl in a punk haircut and black clothes glared at me. "What?" There was a small ripple of laughter. I ignored it.

"Anita Chiyama?"

An Asian girl blew her bangs out of her eyes boredly as she bent over a book. "Here."

"Lacey Kuwantu?"

Another black girl, stocky but not fat, wearing a boy's basketball jersey, looked up from the back row. "Yeah."

I put the paper down.

"All right. Detention has begun. No talking, no phones, no passing notes. You can work on homework or read or just sit and wait, it makes no difference to me."

None of them responded. Only Sharonda continued to look at me.

I looked at them all individually, trying to impress upon them that I would be watching, and then pulled out the quizzes I had left to grade from the classes I had already held that day.

It was very quiet for several minutes. Lacey and Jessica had apparently joined Anita in bending over some papers. Antonia continued to study her fingernails, which were not particularly long or heavily decorated. Only Sharonda seemed to keep her eyes entirely on me, so much so that I started to avoid looking at her so as to not give her the satisfaction of seeing me look away from her sustained, unambiguous stare.

I had gotten into a rhythm on the quiz grading when the terrible screech of a desk being pulled across the concrete floor resounded in the silent room. I looked up with what I hoped was an awful scowl to see Sharonda pulling one of the empty desks toward her, her eyes still locked on mine. Even as I was formulating a scathing reproof, she lifted one thick, tapered leg to rest it on the seat of the extra desk -- and revealed to me that she wasn't wearing panties.

My jaw dropped as I saw the dark lips, glossy with moisture, peep out from between the skirt that rode up high on her thighs. I felt a sudden dryness in my mouth, and my brain felt completely devoid of words. I knew, abstractly, that I should be screaming at her to demand respect, informing her that dragging a desk and sitting with her legs spread was immediate grounds for further detention if not worse punishment -- but all I could think about were the young pussy lips, dark and plump, that peeped out at me.

Sharonda's gaze had not faltered from my face the entire time, and as my eyes flickered up to meet her eyes in helpless fascination, I saw a slight smile on her thick, flat lips. But she said nothing.

I swallowed hard and began to try to weigh my options. Should I call security on her? A terrible way to start my career as a young white teacher in a majority-black district. Glancing irresolutely at the other girls in the room, I was sure that none of them would back up my recounting of Sharonda's disrespectful gaze and shameless display. None of them were even looking at us, although I did catch the ghost of a smirk fade from Jessica's face as she bent over her papers with a pen firmly clutched in hand. They all gave the impression of being either actively hostile to or completely unconcerned about me; and so I was forced to return to the fact that an eighteen-year-old student was displaying her vulva to me in the middle of detention.

As I looked at it, I saw a faint sparkle begin to trickle down the glossy dark petals, and I couldn't help feeling my heart pound in my throat. Was she actively aroused? Was my confusion and irresolution and failure to do anything remotely resembling a demand for order and respect turning her on? And then, even as I watched, she slid one hand down her skirt, along the crease where her spread-open thigh met her torso, and used two tapered fingers with long acrylic fingernails to spread wide her pussy lips, almost startling me with the beauty and vibrancy of the pink that lay within her depths.

I must have made some kind of sound, a squeak of surprise or a gasp of intaken breath or a little choke in the back of my throat, because every head in the room snapped up to look at me. Their eyes flickered to Sharonda as they followed my own gaze, saw the pose she was in, and then smiles spread across every face.

Anita shut her book with a snap and stood up.

"Wh-what are you doing?" I pulled myself out of my fascinated stare into Sharonda's depths at the last second to demand. "Sit back down."

Anita began strolling toward me, and raised a slim finger to her own exquisitely round lips.

"No talking," she said in a stage whisper. "It's detention."

Jessica had gotten up when she saw Anita move toward me, and Antonia followed. All three of them were moving up toward the front of the classroom now. Only Lacey remained in her seat in the back; she had crossed her arms and was watching the rest of us with pursed lips, running a tongue along her teeth with an expectant, appraising air.

They stopped just behind Sharonda, who still spread her pussy lips open, holding my gaze with her bold black eyes, and her lips spread even wider in a forthright smile now.

"Do it," said Antonia.

I blinked at her. She was looking at me, and I realized, half a beat late, that she had spoken to me.

"Do what?" I said, my gaze resting once more between Sharonda's open thighs.

"What you want to do," said Anita.

I looked up, my heart pounding in my chest and my hands trembling on the desk. I don't know what they saw in my face that made them all break into a grin, but that enraged me, and I jumped for the telephone that sat on the desk, meaning to call security.

"Anh-anh!" rang out Lacey's voice for the first time as I raised the receiver. There was an authoritative, masculine note in it that made me pause and look up at her with surprise. She made a downward gesture with an open palm, and I automatically obeyed, returning the receiver to its cradle.

My face felt flushed. Hot tears threatened to spring to my eyes. How had I lost control so thoroughly, so fast? But my eyes found the hot pink rhombus between Sharonda's legs again, and the tears receded. I licked my lips without realizing it, and giggles broke from Anita, Jessica and Antonia.

"

Do

it," said Antonia again, with a hint of impatience, as though I must be very stupid to need telling so many times.

I shook my head, without taking my eyes off Sharonda.

"I could get fired," I said, and knew as soon as I had said it that I had lost the battle to retain any authority in this room.

"We won't tell," said Jessica, with an assumption of faux innocence that made me want to slap her for making fun of me.

I could see more wetness oozing from Sharonda now, pooling on the wooden chair beneath her, seeping under her broad buttocks and soaking into her plaid miniskirt. I licked my lips again involuntarily but didn't care about the giggles any longer. I knew now that I wanted to taste it. Admitting it to myself had been far harder than letting them know, since they had seemed to believe it already.

For the first time since roll call, Sharonda spoke.

"Get your ass up off that chair and come here and put your face in my pussy," she said, in a thick South Side drawl. Even before she had finished I was coming around the desk. I had seen not just transparent fluid but something white and creamy begin to peep out from her depths, and I had to know what it tasted like.

I heard giggles and sighs and a whispered "fuck yeah" from the standing girls as I knelt down in front of Sharonda, who twisted the writing slab of the desk out of my way and spread her other thigh to accommodate my head. She scooted her butt slightly forward as my open mouth descended, saying, exactly as my tongue made contact,

"That's a good girl."

She tasted like heaven. Strong and spicy, but sweet -- like mulled wine, was my initial thought, but I revised it on second taste, which was more savory, and on the third, which left a pleasantly bitter taste on the tongue -- deciding ultimately that her flavor was too complex, with too many sources, to compare to a single comestible. My glasses steamed up quickly as I buried my nose into her pubis, doing all the lapping and scraping and sucking I could with lips and tongue. I could feel sweat start to run down my forehead and drip down my cheeks, mingling with the wetness I brought back from my excavations into her depths.

"Jesus, she's like a dog who hasn't been fed," said Jessica, with what I read as contempt in her voice. But I continued to nuzzle and worry the glorious pussy in front of me, no longer caring about what any of them thought about it.

"It's so fucking hot," said Anita.

"I wanna see her dripping pussy," said Antonia, and that did make me pause and try to look up, but Sharonda's hand on the back of my head drove me back into her.

"Keep on," she instructed in a panting voice. "You gonna want my cum."

I did want her cum, desperately, and I redoubled my frenzied, thirsty efforts, reaching as far into her with my tongue as I could and shaking my head so that my nose rubbed against her clit.

I felt hands around my waist beginning to remove my skirt, and I whined pathetically in my throat, having no other way to protest that wouldn't mean losing a precious second of Sharonda's gorgeous, addictive fluids. But no one paid any attention to my whines, and my skirt was followed by my panties, and as the open air struck my privates I was startled to realize how wet they must be, due to how cold the breeze against them felt.

But a moment later I felt a hand cup my mons, and without thinking about it I moved my hips so as to rub myself against that hand, sparking another round of giggles from the girls who had moved behind me.

"Bitch is in heat," said Antonia.

"Sharonda always does it to them," observed Anita. It sounded like she was the one feeling me up. One finger, then two, slid up and into me, and I groaned into Sharonda, who groaned back, grinding her hips forward into my face.

The fingers began to pump in and out of me in a practiced rhythm. All at once I realized I was on the verge of coming, and couldn't believe it was happening so fast; forty-five minutes of solid work had always been my masturbation schedule at home.

"Jesus fuck," I heard Sharonda hiss suddenly, "yes bitch yes, right there." I forgot all about my own loins and focused on hers, repeating my most recent motions with an intensity and a drive that I had never applied to my teaching qualifications. I was rewarded by hearing her grunt, and then push back against me so hard that the desk she was sitting in skidded slightly, and I had to push back on my haunches in order to not be crushed; this drove the fingers in me far deeper than they had been, and both of us came at the same time.

"Yes bitch yes bitch yes bitch yes," was what she said as she fucked her pussy into my mouth, and I said nothing but gurgles and sputtering, but my back was sore the next day because of how my hips had spasmed in an unaccustomed kneeling position.

At last she pushed me away, and I watched with disappointment as more fluid than I could swallow fell from where my lips had formed a seal around her vulva, splashing on the concrete floor and spattering my blouse. I looked around warily.

Antonia was leaning back against my desk, her skirt hiked up around her waist, and Jessica was kneeling between her legs, her tongue lapping furiously at the bigger girl's pussy. Anita slid her fingers out of me, and stuck them into her mouth and sucked while maintaining eye contact with me. Sharonda returned the writing slab to its horizontal position in front of her and pointed at Anita.

"Feed me your pussy," she said briefly, and Anita nodded, stood up, stripped off her panties, and then mounted the desk, hooking one knee over Sharonda's shoulder and kneeling on the desk with the other, which presented her pussy perfectly level to Sharonda's waiting mouth. Her lips spread wide in a smile, and she looked at me before diving in.

"Better open up for Lacey," she said, and then Anita's black-haired pussy occupied her entire attention.

Startled, I looked up to where Lacey had been sitting. She was standing up now, stretching like an athlete about to compete, and when she saw me looking at her, she gave a half-smile and cocked an eyebrow. I shivered despite myself, my pussy twitching like it always had when I saw a man whose confidence I liked. Distantly I knew that it was outrageous that a teenager was producing these effects in me, but too many outrages had already happened; and I watched Lacey in fascination.

She nodded, pulled off her basketball jersey, showing a lean brown torso with small, thick-nippled breasts and a muscled abdomen; then she pushed down her basketball shorts and I gasped, because a long black strap-on bobbed from her hips, attached to a tight black bodysuit that ran from her waist to mid-thigh. She began walking toward me, stroking the rubber tool as she came.

"Can she take it?" she asked as she came up to Anita, who gathered herself from what Sharonda was doing to her nethers enough to nod.

"I could have done three fingers," she said, and then gasped, and couldn't say anything else.

Antonia tapped Jessica on the shoulder as Lacey approached, and Jessica pulled away reluctantly. Lacey nodded at her.

"Get the bitch ready," she said, and went up to Antonia and thrust two fingers deep within her. Antonia groaned hard, putting up her mouth as though expecting to be kissed, but Lacey just withdrew her fingers and began to wipe them on the strap-on with the moisture she had gathered from Antonia. She repeated the process several times up until the strap-on was entirely coated and dripping with warm Latin juice.

As I watched this happening, Jessica had pulled me to my feet and begun to remove my blouse and bra. I blushed, but made no protest or attempt to stop her. My short, obstinately uncurvy little body felt even more unimpressive than usual compared to all these gloriously sexual teens.

"You know what this means, right?" Jessica asked, turning me around and bending me over the desk where I had started the hour by grading some now long-forgotten quizzes. I blinked through my glasses at the quizzes.

"I'll be fired?" was all I could think to say. Surely nothing else could come of such a wretchedly excessive pursuit of pleasure when I was supposed to be subjecting these children to a salutary dose of scholastic discipline.

She laughed, and although the tone of her voice hadn't changed, my post-orgasm brain was somehow able to recognize that what I had read as sarcasm and contempt was in fact just her normal speaking tone.

"Not unless half the administration is going to be fired too," she said. "No, what it means is that you belong to Sharonda and Lacey now."

"Oh," was all I could think to say. I saw Lacey pat Antonia's cheek, and turn toward me, stroking the dripping strap-on.

"It's okay," said Jessica in my ear. "They're really great owners. You'll see."

Nothing could have made me more tense as I felt Lacey position herself behind me. Strong hands gripped the balls of my buttocks, easily parting them. My puckered asshole winked up at her, and she stroked down the line of my ass-crack with a thumb, slipping it into my pussy at the bottom and hooking the thumb down until the crotch between her thumb and forefinger rested at my clit.

"This is a good pussy," she said.

"Th-thank you," I said in a frightened, waiting voice.

"Whose pussy is it?"

"It's yours," I said, grateful now to have been coached by Jessica. "Yours and Sharonda's."

"It's just mine," she clarified, pressing her hand forwards so that her thumb sank deeper into me, making me groan. "Your mouth is Sharonda's."

"Yes----" I said, and paused, not knowing what to call her. "Yes, Lacey," I said at last.

"You'll call me Ma'am," she said, swatting up on my buttock with her free hand.

"Yes, Ma'am," I said, and shivered. "What do I call her?"

"She'll tell you," said Lacey. "The rest of my bitches you address as Miss Lastname. Got it?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I said, and looked up at Jessica. "Thank you, Miss Axelrod," I whispered. She smiled down at me, and I felt the beginning of a crush at her toothy grin, the black lipstick worn away by her attentions to Antiona's -- Miss Silvera's -- pussy earlier.

"And now you'll see why I deserve to have all these bitches," grunted Lacey, and I felt her thick rubber cock drive into me.

I clutched onto the papers on the desk for purchase, because Lacey's thrusts into me were already forcing my hips to bang hard against the corner of the desk, and I felt like I needed to be able to push back against her in order to get the fullness of her plunge. But Jessica shook her head at me, and swept the papers from the desk. I gasped as they fluttered to the ground, but then I gasped again as Jessica climbed onto the desk in front of me and spread her legs beneath me.

"M'lady," I heard her say, "may I use your new bitch's mouth?"

The noises of Sharonda pleasuring Anita stopped for a moment.

"Yes," came a voice filled with juices I felt suddenly jealous of.

Jessica smiled up at me. "Eat up, new bitch."

As I lowered my face to Jessica's thin, razor-burned cleft, I felt Lacey drive deeper into me, wrap her strong arms around me, and lift my lower half off the ground.

"Hang on to me," said Jessica. I wrapped my arms around her spread thighs and attached my mouth seriously. Antonia also climbed onto my desk and returned her pussy to Jessica's open mouth.

And so, with them to anchor me to the desk and my feet dangling in air as Lacey held my thighs spread in her muscular arms and pounded into me, I discovered a new pleasure I had never encountered in the world before: being fucked by the best, strongest cock I had ever known while I ate one of the most secretly succulent pussies. Sharonda's pussy had been full of flavors, strong and aromatic and heavenly, but Jessica's pussy was merely fruity and lovable, delicious without being overwhelming.

I drank from it thirstily while my pelvis jolted under Lacey's tireless thrusts, sinking deeper into me than anything ever had before, and making me feel fuller than I had ever felt before. Jessica quivered and spasmed under me, but Lacey kept pounding, so I kept licking. I felt my own orgasm sweep over me twice, but Lacey's cock didn't stop and so neither did I. I had had no idea that this kind of sexual performance was possible; and I suppose that if Lacey's cock had been made of flesh it would not have been, but she had more stamina than any man I had ever dated.

Anita came onto Sharonda's face and crawled down to lick her. Antonia came twice on Jessica's face while I licked Jessica to a third and fourth orgasm.

Finally, when my own orgasm racked my body for the fifth time, I felt my head swimming and knew I couldn't keep going.