Jenny Carter had her hair in a ponytail, and had on a knit dress that zipped up the front; it left just a hint of cleavage on display when zipped all the way up, and came to about mid-thigh on her. She was doing in school suspension already; the first week had been a whirlwind, but she had been thankful that there had been no occurrences since her interview. The three men had acted as though nothing at all had happened when she saw them, which made Jenny just as happy.
She walked around the classroom, trying to ignore the fact that the single student in the room with her was staring at her rather boldly. She blushed slightly; the dress had a jacket, which she had taken off, and it did hug her curves a bit, especially her gently curved tummy and coconut sized breasts. She blushed again; she should put the jacket back on.
She leaned against the desk, and the student – his name was Chet Greavey – got up and walked up to her. "You don't mind if I stand up while we talk, do you, Mrs. Carter?"
"Um, no, I guess not Chet," she said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. He leaned against the desk beside her – she should go and sit down, she thought, and crossed her arms under her big breasts.
Chet smiled to himself; he had heard something, but had been unsure about it – and then when he saw this little dish, he had decided he should do some intel – and had arranged to be her sole charge during the in-school suspension.
And now he figured he knew – she was silent, staring around the room and then shooting him a glance, but she did not move away from him. He reached up with his left hand and started rubbing her back softly. She started, and shot a look at him, but still did not move away from him.
"Chet, wh . . what do you - " she started to say as his hand rubbed her back through the thin dress – had he just paused at her bra strap? Why wasn't she pushing him away?
"You just looked a little down, Mrs. Carter," he smiled down at her. "I wondered if it had anything to do with what I heard the other day – it kind of pissed me off," he said, and felt his cock lurch in his pants. She looked at him, her soft brown eyes wide open.
"Wh – what did you hear, Chet?" she asked; she reached down and gripped the edge of the desk; she saw the way his eyes went to her chest but decided she could cut him a break; his big hand did feel good rubbing her back.
"I heard my dad and one of his friends talking, and his friend said he had felt your tits up and that you didn't stop him," he said; his hand was moving about her hips and lower back now. He looked up from her breasts, saw that she had gone pale. She made a small sound in her throat and stepped away from the desk; she walked over to the window and looked out at the broad yards, her pulse racing in her throat. She felt Chet's hands on her shoulder, and then felt him pressing against her.
"Umm, Chet, I – ohnn, oh!" she gasped softly as the young 18 year old shifted against her; she could suddenly feel his fat stiff cock against her soft ass cheeks, and then he shifted slightly so that his rod nestled in the cleft between her plump, round cheeks.
She swallowed heavily, and his hands squeezed her shoulders harder.
"I didn't believe him, Mrs. Carter," he said, his breath hot against her throat, his cock pushing harder against her soft ass. With a small sound, she broke away from him, and went and sat down in her chair.
"That's good, Chet, because this rumor is just untrue – I would appreciate it if you didn't tell this to anyone!" She tried to sound strong; he came and leaned against the desk next to her. He stared down at her, and Jenny looked away from his hawk like gaze; she found herself staring at his fat cock, plainly visible through the shorts he was wearing.
"I can do that – but he did say one thing, Mrs. Carter – he said you have a small freckle on your left breast, a few inches above the nipple – that's not true, is it?" he asked. His hand reached out, and he rubbed the backs of his fingers against the side of her breast.
Jenny swallowed heavily – she did have a freckle there, of course. She wondered if Chet's father's friend was from the house visit or the job interview. She looked at his hand, but did not say anything. She knew she should get up and tell him to leave, but her body and her mind seemed frozen.
"He must have just made those things up for some reason," she finally said as his fingers began pushing harder into the side of her breast. She finally moved, as though trapped in amber, and pushed his hand away from her. "Now, Chet, I trust you will act like a gentleman!" she said.
"You could prove it," he replied, and his hand went back to the side of her breast again as soon as she lowered her hand. "Just unzip your dress and let me see, and then I will know for sure," he said. She pushed him away again, and this time his right hand slipped over quickly to the tip of her left breast; he pushed against her with his palm, and then began moving his hand in small circles, rubbing his palm against the sensitive, throbbing tip of her breast. "I could see why a guy would try to feel you up!" he smiled down at her. She stared up at him, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open as his hand pushed harder against her breast.
"Chet, please," she said, and once again pushed his hand away. He smiled, then peeled his shorts and shirt off, revealing a large, thick cock, at least 8 – 10 inches. Jenny thought. She sat there stunned, and when he moved his hand back to her breast she could not find the strength to push his hand away. "Chet, what do you think you're doing?" she hissed. She was gripping both of the chair arms now, and could not stop glancing at the young man's fat tool.
"My cock hurts so much – it's your fault, Mrs. Carter!" he said. "Why don't you feel how stiff it is?" he said. In a daze, she pushed his hand away again, and then watched as he straddled her legs and then leaned against desk; she was now in the chair, her legs between his thick, widespread thighs, his fat cock now just a foot away from her face. She shook her head as he reached out now with both hands, and began gently lifting and squeezing her big, sensitive breasts. Her nipples were now hard points. She reached up again with her right hand to push him away again – her left still gripped the chair arm – but this time he grabbed her wrist and forced her palm against his fat but somehow silky shaft.
Jenny blushed deeply, and tried to control her breathing as Chet's fingers began tugging on the plump buds of her nipples through the dress. She let out a long breath and could not stop her slim fingers from wrapping around the fat shaft. Chet smirked down at her, and then he was unzipping her dress. She squeezed his thick rod – what the hell was wrong with her?
"Chet, what do you think you're doing?" she asked, and slowly began dragging her fist up and down his fat cock.
"I wanna see if you have that freckle, Mrs. Carter!" he said, and then: "Oh, yeah, there it is – look how fat your nipples are!" he said, and pulled her big, soft breasts out of the half-cup bra by her red nipples. He began squeezing her breasts roughly, alternating large handfuls with pinching and squeezing her stiff, throbbing nipples. "Is this how that guy was feeling you up, Mrs. Carter?" he said, pulling her other breast free too. Both his hands worked at her heaving breasts, tugging her nipples and then squeezing big handfuls of her fun bags, gently and then a bit rougher.
Jenny shivered, and realized she was not saying anything, just sitting there jerking the young man's cock while he felt her tits up. "Go ahead," he told her – "You know you wanna suck it, Mrs. Carter!" Jenny kept drawing her small, sweaty fist up and down his shaft.