Immoral Counseling Ch 02

Author's Note: All characters are 18 years of age or older.

The next day, Lacy was rushing to get out of her 6th period class as fast as possible. She dreaded returning to Weaver's office, but feared the repercussions if she ignored him more. Would he really report her and Simon to the principal? The notion made her sick, twisted her stomach in knots. While haphazardly stuffing books into her bag like a mad woman, she saw Hannah and Becca approaching her. Lacy groaned internally. They were her BFFs since middle school, but at the moment, she couldn't spare a second for them.

"Damn, girl, didn't know you liked Mr. Nielsen's Calc class that much!" Hannah joked. Flicking back her long auburn locks over her slender shoulder. Their classmates joked that her and Lacy were "twins" because of their similar builds and big boobs, but Hannah was actually taller at 5'4" and 112 lbs. She was also one of the smartest students in their class, with a boyfriend on the football team. Not to mention, she was blessed with a 34C bust. She had more than a few covetous classmates.

"Sorry, gotta go see Mr. Weaver and can't be late."

"Again?" Becca questioned, a frown crossing her round, pretty face. "Weren't you just there yesterday?" Becca was a chubby, 5'3", 139 lb brunette with stunning blue eyes. Her soft tummy, juicy ass and thighs, and 34B tits filled out her uniform nicely -- not that she thought so. After gaining weight during freshman year, her confidence took a hit. Though both Lacy and Hannah assured her that she was gorgeous, her self-esteem remained poor. She knew their classmates whispered behind her back, speculating how a fatty like her was friends with two of hottest girls in their class. It didn't help that her grades were just slightly above average, too.

"Yeah, I know," Lacy said, trying to hide her nervousness, "but he has a lot of, uh, concerns about my grades."

"Oh my god!" Hannah said, rolling her eyes. "You made a few B's, the sky's not gonna fall."

Lacy smiled, trying to keep a cool exterior. She didn't want her friends to suspect anything was wrong.

"Well, you know how it is, and hey, at least I get out of 7th period."

"True, but I think I'd rather sit in a dumb class than get lectured by my guidance counselor," Becca replied. Hannah agreed.

"Do you want us to walk with you?"

"Nah, it's cool. I'll catch up with you later."

They said their goodbyes, and Lacy scurried down the hall to her meeting.

When she arrived at his office, Weaver told her to take a seat. He sat behind his desk reading intently from his monitor. She put her bag down and waited. Impatiently. The room was deathly silent, with only the intermittent sound of his mouse clicking and his fingers clacking the keyboard. The way he just ignored her made her anxiety even worse. What did he want? What was he going to do to her? Her temples thumped with her heartbeat. After five excruciating minutes, he pushed away from his desk and looked up.

"I've talked to your teachers," he said, without introduction or preamble. "They've agreed to let you turn in your missed assignments without a late penalty. They've also provided some make-up work to cover the days you skipped. I had to concoct an excuse with them, but it seems to have smoothed things over for you."

"What're you talking about?"

"An opportunity to get your grades back on track. This is a good deal for you."

She didn't know how to respond, but his offer felt like a trap. As Weaver walked around the desk and sat in the chair next to her, she clenched her jaw and gripped the hem of her skirt nervously. Without a word, he leaned over and ran his hand up her exposed inner thigh.

"Stop. I didn't come here to play along with your sick games," she said, pushing against him.

"Now don't be like that. Don't forget, you and your boyfriend have a lot to lose."

Weaver took out his phone and held it where they could both see the screen. A picture of her and Simon having sex in the classroom shone on the glass. Lacy's heart sunk. She clenched her fist and grit her teeth, seething in silent fury.

"Let's help each other out. Besides, I know you enjoyed it, too."

"What? Like hell I did -- you forced yourself on me!"

"Well, let's not split hairs," he replied and withdrew his hard cock from his slacks. "Now be a good girl and suck this for me."

Lacy jumped to her feet in a huff -- scrunched face red with fury.

"Fuck you! I don't care if I get expelled, I'll report you for rape."

She made for the door, but Weaver got there first. Quick on his feet. He wrestled her to the floor, pinning her face down. His speed astounded her. Since when was this fat, old motherfucker so fast!? She yelped, trying to wriggle out from under him, but he was built like a truck. As much muscle as fat. Colossal weight bearing down. Reaching into her skirt, he peeled her green scalloped-edge cheeky panties off her bubble butt and down her thighs.

"Stop, you asshole," she cursed, kicking her legs helplessly.

Weaver rooted his nose in the gusset of her panties and inhaled her feminine scent -- sweet, musky odor inflaming his lust. Looking over her shoulder, Lacy saw his enraptured expression and felt sick. After one last deep whiff, he stuffed them into her mouth as a makeshift gag. He wasn't worried about anyone hearing them, but better to play it safe. Removing her tie, he bound her wrists together behind her back with it, turned her over, and spread her legs. His captive squirmed and shook. Cursed him through the gag. Legs flailing ineffectually.

Lacy shuddered as he kissed his way up her inner thigh to her hairless mound. Disgusting wet warmth on her tender flesh. His mouth on her slit, licking and slurping her pouting lips. She struggled against him, protests muffled by the panties stuffed in her mouth. Strong hands held her knees open. As he devoured her pussy, she started to pant and moan involuntarily. Her sweet nectar began to flow. He loved the taste of her, drank from her well greedily. Tears of shame and anger welled up in her eyes and ran down her cheeks. Her body responding to him against her will. Again. How could she have let this happen? Again. Backing off of her, Weaver stuck a finger inside and marveled at how drenched she was.

"Little slut, dripping already," he taunted. She glared back impotently.

He mounted her tiny frame, guided his turgid prick to her moist crevice. Lacy heaved against him, tried to scramble away, but his grip was like a bear trap. Restrained by his indomitable strength. As Weaver pressed the blunt crown of his cock against her entrance, she shook her head, muttering futilely against her gag. Goddammit, not again! With a groan, he slid into her hot, moist box. Her hips jerked at the sudden intrusion. Moaning in unwanted pleasure. Weaver fucked her with quick, hard strokes from the start. Battering into her in manic frenzy. Her sodden hole squelched around him while he plumbed her snug confines with abandon. His rigid cock stretched her tight, clutching orifice, and she whined and whimpered around her spit-soaked gag.

Sitting up on his knees, Weaver yanked the hem of her shirt out of her waistband, hitching it up around her neck along with her bra. Her large, 32D-cup breasts jiggled and swayed in time with his thrusts. Their perverse choreography set to the beat of skin on skin. Both calloused hands fondled and caressed the enticing globes, fingers sinking into her marshmallowy flesh. He descended on her full, round tits -- ravenously nibbling and kissing. Clamping his lips over her nipple, sucking it hard before gently raking his teeth across the stiff bud. Lacy quivered. His lips and tongue felt unbearably good on her hot, sensitive breasts. How could he be so talented with his mouth? Paired with his fat, rigid prick sluicing through her slick cunt, the helpless teen felt completely overwhelmed and overstimulated. He buried his face in her bosom and glutted himself, grunting and snorting like a pot-bellied pig. Her heart and mind were repulsed, but her body rejoiced. She felt like trash.

Weaver didn't last long. His grunts grew louder, thrusts erratic, almost desperate. Lacy reeled, despairing. Panic-stricken, eyes wide. A muffled yell fought through her gag. In his licentious rampage, he hadn't bothered to wear a condom, and she wasn't on the pill. Weaver grasped her thighs, pounding her hard and fast, racing to finish. Pressure mounting. Boiling tension in his balls. Feeling his impending release, he slammed into her and exploded inside with a strained grunt. His cock pulsed and lurched, gushing copiously into the deepest part of her cunt. She felt the torrent of hot jizz bathing her cervix and sobbed in helpless fury. When he pulled out, his seed spilled thickly out of her gaped channel, running down between her sweaty butt cheeks.

Sitting on the floor to catch his breath, Weaver dragged Lacy over so her face was near his crotch. Her nostrils flared at the pungent stench of his sweaty, musty cock coated with their combined fluids. He removed the panties from her mouth and brought his half-hard member to her lips.

"Now it's your turn. Open up and suck it."

"Keep your nasty dick away from me!" she spat, but he simply forced the bulbous tip between her lips. The mixture of sweat and juices tasted tart and bitter, and she fought not to gag.

"There, that's better. Watch your teeth and don't forget to use your tongue," he commanded, leaning back and enjoying her mouth.

She wanted to yank her mouth off his cock and berate him, but with her head held firmly in place, she had no choice but to pleasure him. She sucked and slurped around his shaft, tongue wriggling against the swollen belly of his prick. Wet mouth absolutely stuffed with meat. He was so much bigger than Simon. She didn't want to admit to herself she was enjoying this, but the more she sucked him, the hotter and wetter her traitorous pussy became. She hadn't cum before, and the tingling ache in her pelvis was growing. How could she get turned on by this vile bastard? Maybe he was right; maybe she was a slut.

"Oh yes," he moaned. "You're so good at this, Lacy. Keep sucking me like that."

In short order, she cleaned his member of his sweat and their fluids, until all she tasted was the salty-sweet precum leaking generously from his tip. She maintained constant pressure on his shaft with her lips, tongue lapping at his frenulum. The illicit dance of her mouth and tongue eliciting a shudder of pleasure. Feeling himself building towards another release, Weaver started thrusting his cock in her mouth. Swollen mushroom head pulsating against her palate. With her hands tied behind her back, she couldn't stop him from using her as he pleased, and she resigned herself to letting him have his way. When his head touched the back of her throat she gagged and sputtered. Thankfully, he didn't try to force it in any deeper.

Rushing closer and closer to cumming, he picked up the pace, sawing his throbbing member between her lips. She didn't want him to cum in her mouth, but she had no means of preventing him with her wrists bound and her head locked in place by his burly hands. His cock lurched between her lips. Rapid vigorous thrusts quickening. Moaning aloud, he thickly dumped his load into her accommodating mouth, bathing her tongue in his salty spend. As his cock pulsed, he felt her tongue coaxing more and more semen out of his balls. She groaned and gurgled around his spurting prick, her mouth quickly filling.

"Drink it," he rasped, still holding her on his cock.

The sheer volume was enough to drown her, and reluctantly, she began swallowing his bitter, salty semen. She fought not to retch as the vile liquid slid down her throat. Gulping and gulping, drinking as much as she could, but it was more than her mouth could contain. What she couldn't swallow leaked in rivulets from the corners of her mouth, ran down her chin. Globs of opalescent seed spilling down her chin. When he released her at last, her face was smeared with tears, sweat, saliva, and cum.

After catching his breath, Weaver turned her on her side and untied her arms. With her hands unbound, she scrambled to get up, but he wrestled her down and spread her legs. To her horror, he sidled up between her thighs again, his hard cock bobbing before him.

"Please, no more," she sobbed.

"Not yet, I've gotta have that pussy one more time."

He grasped her ankle to keep her in position and entered her again. A single, fluid thrust to her center. As he penetrated her once more, she arched her back and yelped, legs shaking. Her hands scrabbled at the carpet above her head, trying to find purchase and get away, but he hugged her thigh and began to thrust slickly into her piping hot oven. As he rammed into her over and over, she moaned and gasped, a growing fire burning in her lower abdomen. Despite how she felt about him, his cock felt so goddamn good inside her. Stretching her open. Rubbing along the sensitive walls of her overheated tunnel. Unconsciously, she began to hump back against him, rolling her hips and encouraging him to fuck her deeper and harder.

Weaver lay over her, his weight pressing her to the ground, practically smothering her. In this position, he was impossibly deep inside her. Rugged erection grinding against her most sensitive spots. Her mouth hung open as she moaned wantonly, drooling and wheezing in helpless ecstasy. She wrapped her lithe arms around his sweaty back. Drawing him into her embrace. His face was just inches from hers, and she could smell the stench of his hot breath. The scent only magnified her desire. Without meaning to, her lips parted, beckoning him to kiss her. He pressed his lips to hers, darting his tongue into her mouth, and she reciprocated. They clung to each other, humping and writhing, passionately making out. The bittersweet odor of their coupling hung heavily in the air.

As their lips parted, Lacy realized what just happened and felt ashamed of herself. How could she have so willingly and enthusiastically made out with him? While her mind reeled, Weaver sat back and pulled her on top of him.

"Move your hips. I want you to ride me."

Blushing in shame, Lacy obediently humped her hips against his lap. In this position, her clit rubbed against his pelvis with every movement, making her moan. Pleasure sparkling up her back. As she rode him, she felt a powerful orgasm rapidly building. Her entire body trembled and shook, and Weaver held her waist and guided her back and forth on his cock. He was nearly there himself. The lewd shake and bounce of breasts with every movement mesmerized him. His hands glided up her sweaty torso to cup her gorgeous, irresistible mounds. She moaned appreciatively, leaning into his hands, encouraging him to caress and fondle her. He began to thrust into her from below, and she thrust back against him, yelping and crying in ecstasy.

"Shit, I'm gonna cum."

"Not inside," she begged, but it was already too late.

Weaver bucked and buried himself to the hilt in her rippling canal. She felt the eruption inside her, and her entire body stiffened and clenched as the most intense orgasm of her life overtook her. It surged up through her like a tidal wave. The busty teen uttered a strangled squeal as the pleasure stole her breath and voice. Shaking and seizing in the old man's lap. Fingers clawing his sturdy frame. Weaver held her tightly to him as he emptied himself completely into her unprotected cunt. Spurt after spurt of sticky, potent goo. As the last wave of her climax washed through her, she collapsed on top of him, utterly exhausted.

"I said not to cum inside."

"Just take it all in," he replied, bringing his hands down to squeeze her butt cheeks. She moaned softly and laid her head on his chest, cuddling with him in post-coital bliss.

They panted together heavily, her naked breasts pressed against him and his cock embedded in her soaked snatch. Her legs were splayed wide around his waist, with her knees up by his ribs. Weaver ran his hands up her sweat-slicked back, caressing her fit, lithe body, and she didn't resist when he brought his lips to hers once more. Her tongue snaked out to meet his.

Eventually, Weaver's cock deflated and slid out from her sore, swollen pussy. She broke their kiss and rolled off of him, bringing a hand between her legs and feeling his load dribble out of her. It was hot and sticky and clung to her fingers like glue. Weaver stood and plopped down in the chair, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her to sit between his legs.

"Clean it," he ordered.

She didn't have the strength to argue with him, so she took his limp member between her lips without complaint and gently sucked their fluids from him. When she'd fully cleaned his pole, she proceeded down to his balls and taint. He even had her lick the juncture between his thigh and pelvis. The bitter, acrid mixture of sweat and sex tasted awful. Resigned to her task, she dutifully licked and sucked until she couldn't taste it anymore. Then she gave the other side the same treatment. When she was done, she licked the horrid residue from her lips and scrubbed the back of her hand across her sticky mouth. Plucked a stray pubic hair stuck to her cheek. He patted her head, praising her for a job well-done.

Later, when they had cleaned up and dressed, she accepted his offer. In exchange for his help, she agreed to be a good girl for him until graduation. He also made her agree to tone down the way she dressed. The shorter skirts were fine -- especially with it getting hotter outside -- but he ordered her to button her shirt and tighten her tie. Cut back on the makeup and jewelry, too. She tried to make him promise to start wearing a condom, but his answer was noncommittal. They made arrangements to meet in his office after school twice a week, and he agreed not to interfere with her relationship with Simon. After exchanging cellphone numbers, Weaver saw her off with one last kiss.

That night, she stood naked at the kitchen sink with the hot water running. With her mom out late again, she'd eaten dinner alone. After soaking the hand towel under the faucet, she used it to wash her pussy and clean the sweat from her skin. Maybe she should've jumped in the shower, but drying her hair was a pain. With the difficult, stressful day she had, the hot cloth on her body was welcome and relaxing. Getting raped by Weaver again would've been bad enough on its own, but of course, she also had to get in a nasty row with Simon. Knowing her mom was out, he wanted to come over. No need to guess why. Lacy told him no because she was nervous he'd be able to tell she had sex with another man. Simon being his typical self kept pestering her until she got fed up and snapped at him. She felt bad about it, but wasn't ready to apologize. Not yet. Hopefully, he'd apologize first -- since after all, it was his fault she was in this mess to begin with.

She ran the hot towel over her neck and shoulders, massaging them. Three months left before graduation. From what Weaver said, she had a lot of work to do to get caught up, but she was confident she could handle it. The real challenge would be putting up with Weaver's sexual demands. Despite herself, the image of his fat, sweaty body on top of hers came unbidden into her mind. He disgusted her, but just the thought of his cock was enough to make her wet. Her face turned bright red with shame. It was only a few months; she would just have to endure it until then.