Chapter 3

The twelve slumboys were waiting in their seats quietly when Lisa entered the room. The former diningroom had successfully been converted into a classroom, complete with a desk at the front of the room for Lisa; desk armchairs for the boys; slate blackboards had been built into the richly paneled walls; sun streamed in through the huge windows. It was a cheerful room.

One would have expected the sorry collection of roughnecks to be boisterous while awaiting the arrival of the teacher. That was not the case. The boys had been there for three weeks. There were only a few rules for them to obey and after the boys realized how fortunate they actually were to be given the chance for an excellent education on the grounds of the beautiful estate they had collectively decided to obey the rules. They were grateful for the lack of formal rules; they were grateful for the individual cottages in which they lived; they were grateful for the plentiful and well-cooked meals; they were grateful for the wardrobe that Lisa had seen that each boy was provided; none of the boys had ever had it so good. Nothing was asked of them but study - study for their own benefit - and the virtual lack of rules pleased them all immensely. Most of all, all the boys worshipped Lisa, even though they all hungered after her beauty.

As Lisa swished into the room, her nylons whispering seductively, all twelve of the boys' faces brightened. They smiled, their eyes drinking in her matchless beauty. Lisa was wearing a clinging pink silk dress that hugged her full, passion-arousing curves. Her blonde hair bobbed softly as she swayed into the all-male classroom. Both the boys and Lisa were instantly aware of her jarring female allure. The soft pink of her silk dress was utterly feminine. The hem of her skirt wasn't a true mini, but it was a good two inches above her knees, giving the boys a breathtaking glimpse of her lovely, flawless, long legs. Her full, lush breasts, cupped in a flimsy bra that she didn't need, bounced gently as she swished into the room. Twelve pairs of young, male eyes were riveted, for a moment, on her breasts.

Lisa smiled at the twelve boys. They smiled genuinely back at her. The atmosphere in the classroom was charged with sexual longing as Lisa closed the door behind her. She was aware, as the boys were aware, that she was now isolated, alone, one beautiful woman among twelve young roughnecks from the slums. They were all aware that rape of her was an open, easy possibility. But, in truth, that was out of the question. To a boy, they all worshipped Lisa. They felt the genuine desire on her part to help them. She had a way about her that made each of the boys feel special; she made each of them feel as if she cared for him individually, personally; she made them feel like men, men who could amount to something in the world; no one before Lisa had ever made any of the boys feel that way before. She gave them hope where once there was no hope. She magically made everything seem possible to the boys.

This was English class for the boys. Lisa had given the boys an assignment. She had explained to them what an autobiography was. She had read to them portions of the finest, most interesting autobiographies and biographies that had ever been written. She had truly stirred the boys' interest and curiosity. They had all been laboring over their individual autobiographies for more than a week. Each boy had a huge dictionary and each of the boys used it - this Lisa knew for a fact and the knowledge warmed her.

She had also provided each of the boys with a tape recorder and simple but complete books on the correct pronunciation of words. The boys tested themselves by reading into the tape recorders. Lisa made a habit of dropping in on the boys in their cottages during their study hours. When she did she listened to their tapes. When she heard that the boys were mispronouncing a word or words, she would record the correct pronunciation on their tape so that each boy could listen and repeat the word in private. The boys had all instantly warmed to the game of learning how to speak properly. Lisa had spent one two-hour session with them explaining just how important proper diction was. The boys understood and pathetically strove to please her, almost childishly, by struggling with the strange new sounds of words that they had been mispronouncing all their lives. The boys had all slowed down their speech patterns as they tried desperately to please Lisa by speaking correctly and they tested new words that they had learned by looking them up in their dictionaries - they fitted them into sentences and then waited breathlessly to see whether Lisa would approve and praise them. They seemed to thrive on her praise.

There were twelve boys in the room. Lisa had secretly slept with three of them; the other nine hadn't a clue that she had. She invested each love - making session with the need for secrecy, making each boy realize how important it was to keep it a secret. Each of the three fortunate boys believed that Lisa had singled him out alone for the pleasure of her body.

She had chosen her first three lovers with care. After a week Lisa discovered that Amos Black was the natural leader of the boys. Physically, he was the biggest and most powerful. He stood six foot four and was two hundred eight pounds of solid muscle. He had a quick mind even though he was poorly educated; Lisa hoped to tap his mind, to make the boy grow into a man who could strive and accomplish in the outside world. Amos Black was as black as it was possible to be, jet black. His hair was kinky. His eyes were sharp brown. His nose was broad and his lips were thick. His teeth were white and strong. She had seduced him with tender care. After she had given him the prize of her luscious white body he seemed to expand, glow with pride - but he kept it a closely guarded secret, as she had urged him to. Lisa knew that with him on her side, she would have no real trouble with the other boys.

The second boy that she had had was Juan Valez, a tense, thin, dark boy with black, curly hair. He seemed to burn with energy and fire. Tests had indicated that he had the highest IQ of all. For those reasons Lisa had given herself to him. She was the first white woman that Amos had ever had; she was the first pure white woman that Juan had ever had, too. Just as Amos, he had glowed with pride after having her.

The third boy she had chosen was Joe Sanchez, a swarthy Mexican lad, short and husky, slow in talk and movement, but with an agile mind that grasped ideas swiftly. His reaction to her had been the same as the other two boys. She puffed up all three boys with pride after seducing them and they kept their secret well.

Now Lisa walked in front of the boys, to her desk; as she sat behind it, she could virtually hear the sigh of disappointment come from the boys - the desk hid most of her gorgeous body from their hungry, worshipping eyes. She wanted it that way for now. She was supremely aware of the effect that her body had on them. She knew that the instant that she entered the classroom, most of the boys' cocks went secretly hard with pulsing desire in their trousers. That knowledge pleased her, warmed her, excited her.

"Well, gentlemen," she said softly, addressing them with respect, "how are you doing with your autobiographies?" Her eyes searched each boys' face as she smiled warmly at them.

"It's tough," one of the boys said.

"Oh? Why? What's the problem?" she asked with keen interest, all her attention riveted on the boy who had spoken.

"It's so hard to put down on paper," the boy said slowly, trying hard to correctly pronounce each word.

"Tell me about it, Sam," Lisa smiled at the boy.

"There's so much to tell, Lisa. So much has happened in my life. Like what do I put in and what do I leave out?"

"You put in the important things," one said.

"But how do I know what's important and what isn't?" the boy said, desperate to know.

"I think I can explain, Sam," Lisa said. "You see, you have to think hard. You have to remember as much of your life as you can. If you think long enough and hard enough a pattern will begin to evolve. Do you understand that, Sam?"

"I think so," he said softly, not wanting to admit that he didn't understand what she meant by 'a pattern evolving'. Lisa knew at once that the boy didn't understand, that he didn't want the other boys to know that he didn't. She stepped in before any of the other boys could interrupt. She wanted to save the boy his pride.

"Oh, I know you understand, Sam," she smiled. She saw him visibly relax, saw an expression saying 'thank you' in his eyes. "Let me go over it again for those of you who don't understand, as Sam does. When I say that a pattern will evolve, I mean that if you think your life through, you'll soon begin to see a straight line of progress. Suppose a boy one day, when he's very young, is taught how to use a basketball. Okay? At that first moment the ball feels natural in his hands and he seems to be born knowing how to use it. He has skill that doesn't have to be taught. Many other things may happen in his life, but, if he sticks with the basketball, practices, he'll become very good, he'll become a star, maybe even star in high school or college or professionally. A lot of things may happen to that boy, but the most important thing that has happened is getting his hands on that basketball."

Lisa paused. She saw understanding lighting the twelve boys' eyes. She continued. "Now. Sam, a lot of things have happened to you in your life - before you came here. You have to think about all of those things. If you think long enough and hard enough the most important things will pop again and again into your head. Write those things down as soon as they pop into your head. They're the important things. Go over your life again and again. In a while, a pattern will establish itself. Write it all down. As you read it over you'll begin to see for yourself what's important and what's not important."

"I think I get you," Sam said, grateful for her kind explanation.

"I'm sure you do," Lisa said sincerely. "Gentlemen," she said, always addressing them that way as a group, "gentlemen, many things have happened to you. One of you may have snatched an apple from a fruit stand. You got away with it. You then began to steal more and more. Now. A lot of other things could have happened to you, but the theft of that apple is the most important thing, because you got away with it. If you continue to steal - well, you know what'll happen, you know what'll become of you - "

The boys nodded.

"Maybe the most important thing that happened to another one of you was making a pretty girl," she said simply. The boys' eyes widen with surprise as they heard her casually bring up sex. "Now, making that girl could turn that boy into a lover. After the easy conquest of the pretty girl, that might be the only thing he thinks of. I'm sure we all know boys like that," she smiled. The boys grinned back at her. "Get the picture?"

"Sure," the boys said, almost in unison. They understood.

"Good," Lisa smiled.

She got up from behind her desk in the front of the classroom. The boys eyed her hungrily. For more than three weeks she was the only female that they had seen. She walked around to the front of her desk. She smiled at them, aware, very aware, of how powerfully her body was stirring them. She liked the feeling. It excited her.

She hitched herself up on the edge of the desk, partly sitting on it, the edge of the desktop pressing into her lush buttocks. As she hitched herself onto the desktop, her skirt rode up. She had one long, lovely leg hike up slightly higher than the other. The hem of her dress hiked up to the beginning of her stocking tops. She could almost hear the boys wheeze with desire as all twelve pairs of eyes blazed at her legs, so provocatively displayed. She saw burning desire in all of their eyes. She felt desire whipping up in her own body. She felt crazily the urge to hike her skirt up and take them all on at once - give her body to them in a gangbang - but she stilled her quick, hot craving. Instead, she shifted her position, revealing a bit more of her thighs, encased in the stockings that whispered sexily as her legs rubbed together. The silk of her pink dress clung to the inviting V where her thighs met her pussy mound.

"Gentlemen," she said in a soft, low voice, "this autobiography that you're writing is very important. It'll greatly help each of you to understand yourself better and it'll help me understand you better, too. The more we all understand, the easier it'll be for all of us to learn - all of you - and me. If any of you are stuck, please ask me for help. I'll see you privately. It's better that way. Talk is freer when you're not in a roomful of other guys."

The boys laughed, appreciating her remark.

"Now," she continued. "You've all been cooped up here for too long," she smiled. The boys looked at her surprised, wondering what she was driving at. "It's not healthy for you gentlemen to be isolated here. Three of you are old enough to drive. I've arranged for three station wagons to be loaned to you. After eight at night, after study hours are over, all of you are free to go into town."

She paused, waiting for the words to sink in.

"You mean we can go out?" one of the boys said.

"Yes," Lisa answered. "Each of the boys who can drive will be responsible for each of the station wagons. It's up to you boys to keep the station wagons clean and well-serviced. There's only one rule. No one but Sam, Amos and Juan can drive. The rest of you aren't old enough. You're all free to leave every night after eight. You're all free all day Saturday and Sunday."

The boys stared at her with wonder, hardly believing her words. They waited for the catch; the catch, the con, that they had always met in their cruel lives. But there was no catch.

"Now," Lisa continued. The boys stared at her, silently, as if to jointly say, 'oh, here comes the catch.' Lisa paused and then continued. "You don't have any money. Okay. If you gentlemen apply yourselves and continue to help around the estate as you have, you'll all get a weekly spending allowance of forty dollars. That forty dollars is yours to keep, to save, to spend as you see fit. You'll get it every Friday morning. You earn that money by sweating out the rough classes you attend, by helping out around the estate, as many of you have volunteered to. Nobody gets anything for nothing in this world - you all know that," she smiled. The boys grinned at her and nodded in agreement. "You earned your right to come here by being smarter than the other boys who tried to get here. You earn that spending money by sweating things out, by trying to improve yourselves, by helping out around here. No tricks. You're free. I'm sure you'll all conduct yourselves right and play it square with me. Everybody'll be watching you. They'll be waiting for you to slip up. But you're all too smart to slip up. I'm so proud of all of you," she said with conviction. "I'm not worried. You know I'm not."

"We won't let you down," Amos said. The rest of the boys echoed his words. "And, thanks, Lisa," he said softly, honestly. The other boys mumbled their honest thanks to her, too.

"Thank you," Lisa said softly.

"It's groovy, you letting us out," one of the boys said.

"Well," Lisa grinned, "you're not prisoners. If we had the station wagons when you arrived, you'd have been given the use of them at once."

That clinched it. The boys smiled at her, appreciation shining in their eyes. They felt new pride in the trust she invested in them.

The situation was strange. Boys of this kind were usually uncommonly rude and boisterous and unmanageable. During the first week they had behaved wildly at first, but then they had settled down. They were unbelievably well-behaved, in class and out. They respected all the rules - perhaps because the rules were so few and perhaps, because they were shown respect by everyone involved in their education.

Lisa sat there on the desk, swinging one of her long legs, her skirt hiked up high so that the boys could see virtually to the edge of her stocking tops. She wanted truly to help them. She felt that the school was a good idea and it now seemed to be working. The only thing that marred her good attitude was the way in which she was methodically seducing the boys. The boys had been chosen for their native, untapped intelligence and that was the way it should be. But, they were finally selected from a peephole, as Lisa measured their cocks with her eyes, hungrily picking the studs. So, Lisa's great educational design could not honestly be called selfless.

"Pass out these papers, please," she smiled, as she sat provocatively on the desk swinging her leg, the nylon whispering, tantalizing the twelve boys. She handed a small stack of papers to one of the boys and he passed them out.

"Now," Lisa said. "There are two complicated pictures drawn on the paper that's been passed out to you. Here's what I'd like you to do. Study the pictures carefully and then write a short essay on what the pictures mean to you. This isn't a psychological test," she grinned. "It's meant to give you practice in describing what you see. Take your time. You have half an hour. Use the dictionaries in your desks if you're not sure of a word you'd like to use and if you get stuck, call me and I'll help you out. This isn't any kind of a test. It's meant just to give you practice. It's meant to exercise your minds just as sports exercise your muscles. Okay, you can start and don't rush. You don't have to finish. Just do your very best."

Lisa went around and sat behind her desk. She opened a novel and read it as the boys sweated over their assignment. As the half-hour neared its end, she saw that one of the boys, Jose Caruso, was having a difficult time. He was chewing frantically on his pencil, beads of sweat on his forehead. Jose was the smallest of the boys. He was sixteen. He was only five-five, very skinny and had a very dark complexion and hair. He was a shy boy, unsure of himself and he had an inferiority complex. He came from Mexican peasant stock, a broken, poverty-scarred home. Deep inside of the boy rage against the world seethed, ready to explode. Lisa felt compassion for him. She decided that she would visit him in his cottage that night and begin to build the boy up, build his ego, give him something he had never before had. She knew how to act and she was sure that a private visit to his cottage would do him good, much good.

Lisa got up from her desk and circled the room quietly. The boys glanced up at her momentarily and then went back to their work; they were completely absorbed in their assignment. When she reached Jose Caruso she bent down and whispered in his ear.

"May I help you, Jose?" she whispered to the boy with a warm, reassuring smile.

"Aww, that's okay," he whispered shyly, ducking his dark head. The boy seemed to be constantly apologizing for the fact that he was alive.

"Please let me help you?"

He struggled with himself. Then he whispered shyly his problem to her. She bent down close to him, the warmth of her lush body and the scent of her perfume nearly drowning the shy boy. She quietly explained away his problem. A look of sudden understanding crossed his dark, Mexican face. He smiled at her, thankfully.

"Gee, thank you, Lisa. I understand now," he whispered.

"You're welcome, Jose. Please don't be shy with me. Please ask me for help when you need it. I'm here to help you," she whispered, her warm lips close to his ear. She was very tempted to kiss the boy, but she stilled her crazy emotion. There'd be time for that when she was alone with the skinny, shy, Mexican boy in his cottage later, she told herself.

Lisa circled around the back of the room. In the very back seat of the last row sat Amos Black, the huge jet-black boy whom she had picked and had as her first lover among the boys. He was sitting, huge and relaxed, in his chair, with no boys behind him or to the side of him.

Lisa walked up and stood by the side of his desk-chair. She bent low and whispered into his ear.

"How are you doing, Amos?" Lisa whispered.

"Jest fine," he whispered back with a toothy white grin splitting his black face.

"Have you finished your assignment?"

"Yeah. I got it all down real good, I think," he whispered.

None of the boys turned around as Lisa and Amos whispered together in the back of the classroom. They were all still fully absorbed in their assignment. Lisa knew it. Amos knew it. It was almost as if they were conspiring behind the other boys' backs.

Amos dropped his arm over the side of his desk and his huge, black hand came to rest on the calf of Lisa's nylon-clad leg. She took in a sudden, silent suck of wind as she felt his hand resting caressingly on her calf, so openly, in the room full of boys. She stood stock still.

He smiled confidently, mischievously, up at her. She grinned back at him nervously, very aware of his huge hand and then, suddenly, his hand began to travel up her leg as she stood close by him, her legs spread slightly apart. His hand caressed slowly up over her calf, over the back of her knee, up onto the back of her thigh under her skirt, gently pushing up the back hem of her skirt as it moved slowly, teasingly up, up.

Lisa felt strangely helpless and unable to move or stop his open, brazen behavior. At any moment any one of the boys could turn around and see what Amos was doing to her. But she did not resist him. She simply stood there, unmoving, unresisting, staring deeply into his brown eyes as his black face smiled back up at her.

And then his black hand slid up over her nylon stocking tops onto the creamy pink flesh of the back of her thigh, hiking the skirt up as it moved.

"Don't," she mouthed silently to him.

"I can't help myself," he mouthed back silently to her.

Lisa did not move. She could not. The feel of his big black hand, moving caressingly and slowly up over her naked thigh under her skirt had her virtually hypnotized. Desire swarmed over her, making her pussy slit pulse with quick, hot excitement. What he was doing was so brazen, so open, so dangerous - it secretly thrilled her. She didn't move.

She glanced down to his lap and saw the gigantic, bulging ridge of his hard-on in his trousers and she licked her lips nervously. He knew where she was looking and he smiled, moving his hand up higher, very slowly. The whiteness of her lush thighs were in vivid contrast to his black fingers as they caressed and moved slowly up. The satiny flesh of her white thighs tingled as his black fingers caressed upward toward her panties under her pink, rising skirt hem.

She stood there quietly, unmoving as the slow, languorous caress of his hand crept up higher and higher on her naked thigh under her skirt. Unconsciously, her legs spread slightly wider apart He grinned, his lusting eyes holding hers and then his hand reached the lace-edge of her panties. Lisa nearly sighed out loud. His hand caressed slowly over her panty-cupped buttocks and then, slowly, his black fingers dragged down toward the pink crotch band of her panties as she stood there helplessly swaying next to him, her legs beginning to tremble.

He fluttered and dragged his thick, long fingers over the thin, protective panty patch that covered her heated pussy and then, shockingly, there in a room full of boys, Amos worked his hand up under the elastic of her frilly, filmy panties and touched the now moist lips that throbbed with excitement between her legs. His fingertips dragged teasingly over her tender pink slit. She bit her lip in nervous, helpless passion. She nearly gasped out loud as she felt, his black fingers crawling over the pink lips of her vagina, shamelessly spreading them apart so that he could plunge his thick, black finger up and into her secret mound.

With a sudden rush of terror she clamped her thighs together, trapping his hand against her cunt. She stared down at his smiling back face with beseeching eyes.

"Not now ... please stop ... " she mouthed silently, frantically to him.

"This is fun," he mouthed back to her.

"Not now. Later," she silently lipped the words to him.

"Later? Promise?" he lipped to her.

"Yes ... "

She parted her thighs. With a grin of pure satisfaction he slowly removed his caressing hand from between her thighs and the crotch band of her panties sprang back into place, once again covering the moist, hot, throbbing lips of her vagina. Her skirt dropped down into place as he removed his hand with a grin from under her skirt.

Lisa took a deep breath and steadied herself, getting a firm hold on her racing emotions. She knew that she had permitted him shameless liberties. She knew that she could have stopped him, but she hadn't. They had played a dangerous, teasing game together. She didn't want it ever to be repeated that way or she'd lose control and she didn't want to do that.

She gave Amos a freezing stare and then swished briskly to the front of the room. When she turned to face the boys one would never guess that only seconds earlier Amos' black fingers were teasing over her pussy, under her skirt, under her panties. She had full control of her emotions.

"All right, gentlemen," Lisa said with a gentle, steady voice that didn't give away her emotions, "time's up. Joe, will you please collect the papers? Thank you. Oh and please make sure you wrote your names on the papers."

Joe brought the papers to Lisa as she seated herself behind her desk in the front of the classroom.

"Thank you, gentlemen. That'll be all. Class is over and thank you for trying so hard. We'll discuss what you've written tomorrow. You may go to your various shop classes now," she smiled. The boys got up, smiling at her, friendly and began to file out of the classroom. "Oh," Lisa said. "Amos, will you please remain for a moment after the rest have left?"

"Yes ma'am," he answered with quiet respect. The rest of the boys, suspecting that nothing was out of order, filed out of the room, laughing and talking together.

Once the boys were out of the room and the door was closed, Amos got up and walked slowly toward Lisa's desk. She was standing by the side of her desk, arranging the stack of papers neatly, slipping them into a brown envelope.

"You wanted to talk to me, Lisa?" Amos said softly. He stopped a foot from her, uncertain, suddenly, of himself. Lisa looked at him coolly. She saw at once that he was still fully-aroused, that his huge, hard cock was pressing rudely and insistently out against the material of his trousers. But her eyes barely glanced at his enormous, thrilling hard-on. She held herself in control.

"Yes, Amos, I wanted to talk to you."

"Okay," he said, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, very aware of his hard-on and the fact that she was ignoring it.

"That was a very stupid, dangerous thing you did," she said with controlled anger.

"Aw, I was jest funning around," he said lamely, feeling suddenly unsure of himself.

"You're supposed to be bright. You acted brazenly, stupidly," she said with low anger in her voice.

"But - you - didn't stop me - "

"You took me so off guard that I didn't know what to do. I was shocked and stunned. Do that once more and you're through here, Amos."

"I don't know what came over me, Lisa. I - finished the assignment and began thinking about you and then you were next to me and I got this terrific hard-on so quick-like ... and next thing I knew my hand was moving like it had a life all its own. You looked and smelled and felt so good I couldn't hardly help m'self," he said, his voice low and stumbling.

"I gave myself to you because I wanted to, Amos," she said, her voice suddenly gentle and soft again. She smiled at him and sat down on the edge of the desk, her skirt hiking up temptingly to the edge of her stocking tops. He stood, staring at her, confused, upset, his hard-on still bulging out against the front of his pants. He didn't know what to say or do. Her respect for him meant more than anything in the world had ever before meant. She paused. "Amos, I respected you, admired you. I thought you had more brains and natural ability to learn than any of the other boys. That's why I gave myself to you. In admiration and respect for you. But, after the way you've just shamelessly and foolishly behaved, I wonder if I was right." She paused again, to let the words sink in. He hung his head low, ashamed of himself as he had never been ashamed before. "What am I to think, Amos? I admired and respected you and I thought you felt the same about me," she added softly.

"I do - feel that way 'bout you, Lisa," he said humbly, honestly.

"Well, you have a strange way of showing it. You treated me as if I was some common whore. How am I supposed to feel?"

"I'm - sorry - " he said, his huge body crouching, as if he was trying to make himself disappear in his shame, humiliation, bewilderment and misery.

"Are you? Really?"

"Yes, I am. Honest, Lisa. I mean it. Oh, don't chuck me outta here. It means so much to me. It's my onliest chance."

"Your only chance," she corrected him.

"My only chance," he repeated.

"All right. We'll forget it. Promise you'll show me the same respect that I show you, Amos?"

"Yes ... yes ... I promise," he nearly sobbed.

"All right, then," she said. Then she relented and smiled warmly at him. "Let's be friends again, Amos," she smiled.

"Oh, yeah, sure!" he said with growing excitement and happiness.

"Fine. We'll forget all about it. Okay? Good. I'm sorry that I got you so excited. But I couldn't help that. I didn't try, you know," Lisa smiled.

"I know. Jest being around is all it takes. Jest thinking 'bout you gets me all stirred up, like I am now," he said, meaning his still throbbing hard-on, bulging lewdly in his pants.

"I'm sorry, Amos. If you hadn't behaved the way you did I'd be very nice to you right now - "

"You mean you'd - ?"

"Yes," she grinned, eyeing his erection. "I'd take very good care of that very big problem that you have in your pants right now if you hadn't acted the way you did. But, not now, I'm afraid. You'd better get a grip on your emotions, Amos. You have to go to your next class and you can't go with that erection you have," she smiled, staring at it.

"The way you're looking at it only makes it worse," he said with anguish.

"All right. I'll leave. As soon as you get yourself under control, you go to your next class."

"I'm sorry I did what I did, Lisa," he said softly.

"You're forgiven. It's forgotten. Now I'll leave you," she said and with a flash of creamy thighs, she swung herself down off the top of the desk. She twitched her hips seductively as she left the room, knowing that his hot eyes were following her. She closed the door behind her.

Once she was out of the room, leaving Amos behind, she leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath.

Boy, I sure pulled that one off, she sighed to herself. Flames of desire were still licking over her. It had cost her all her control to make him take his caressing hand away and it had cost her all her will-power not to unzip his fly and play with his huge black cock once she was alone with him. But she had resisted temptation, she had regained her full control over the powerful black boy. If she didn't control him, she knew that she couldn't control any of the other boys.

She walked slowly through the house and went up to her room. She lay down on the bed, throbbing with desire. She had to still her need. As she lay there, on her back, her skirt high up over her thighs, the door to her bedroom opened and her twin brother, Fred, entered.

She grinned at him.

"Boy, do I need you," she sighed. "Get out of your pants and fuck me I"

He did.