Chapter 2

MY PRECOCIOUS PUPILS

My first class of the day, English II, was as delightful as ever, with each of the Lolita-type temptresses attempting to outdo each other in baring their privates to my by now practiced eye.

Stella had evolved a new approach which must have taken quite a bit of practice at home. She had arranged her skirt in such a way that when she would sit on one foot, the skirt would form a tent over her lap. She positioned her other leg just so, and none of the other students in the class could see that she had arranged the peep-show for my benefit.

There was little or no finesse to Candace's performance, however, and she continued to keep her legs spread carelessly, offering me a constant view of her genital area which was only partially covered by the narrow crotch of her panties.

The class was about half-over and I was getting ready to assign that night's homework when Candace raised her hand in the air. I called on her, thinking perhaps she might ask some academic question.

"Mr. Norman, when are you going to start teaching us?"

"Why...." I almost blustered, "I had thought I was in the process of teaching you now! Haven't you learned anything about our English language at all since I've been here?"

"Oh, not English, Mr. Norman," she almost cooed as she spoke. "I mean about ... you know ... sex? Some of the other kids have been wondering about it too, haven't they, Stella?"

Her partner in crime looked the picture of innocence as she nodded her head in as sent. I couldn't help it, I chuckled aloud. This caused the entire class to laugh.

Suddenly more hands came up, and I called on others, to find they all appeared most anxious for their sex instruction to begin. I strongly felt that they were all trying to avoid the English II homework assignment, but the trustees had said sex instruction should begin immediately. I was silent for a few moments while the class waited for my reply to their insistent request for Sex Ed, as they called it.

"The only way any instructor can start teaching such a subject," I began, "is to find out just how much is actually known by his pupils already. Now our first class in Sex Ed will be on Friday. In the meantime, I want each of you to type out for me what you believe is your complete knowledge of sex.

"If .there are any of you who have experienced or witnessed sexual intercourse, either animal or human, I want you to describe in detail just what you think took place and why it took place!

"I don't want these themes signed, because I don't want to know who the writer is. I don't want them handwritten, either, because I would be able to distinguish the writer by his penmanship-or the lack of it. Those of you who do not have typewriters at home, will be permitted to use the ones in the typing classroom when they are available. I'll make arrangements for you. Now, are there any questions?"

Naturally it was Candace's hand which rose urgently.

"Yes, Candace?" I asked.

"Well, Mr. Norman, do you want us to use the words we know ... you know ... the ... dirty words, or do we have to know the technical terms for things? I don't know any technical words," she went on, "but I do know the dirty words!"

I'll just bet you do, I thought to myself while the rest of the class giggled at the boldness of her inquiry.

"I'm not going to tell you how to write it," I replied. "That is entirely up to you. Use the language you are most familiar with!"

"You ended that sentence with a proposition, Mr. Norman," Candace hurried to correct me.

"I am sorry," I said nervously. "I stand corrected. However, Candace, the word is preposition not proposition, understand?"

"Proposition still sounds better," she mumbled as she sat down.

I gave the same assignment to my other classes that day, and I thought the subject of Sex Ed was over until Friday. How very wrong I was!

That night I had figured on going to bed early, especially after having such a workout the previous night. I had showered and was relaxing with a book, dressed only in my robe and slippers, when the phone rang.

"Hello, Mr. Norman?" a female voice asked tentatively.

"Yes, this is he. Who is this?" I asked.

"This is Candace ... only I hate that name. All my friends call me Candy-you know, like in the book."

"For heaven's sake, Candace ... Candy, you shouldn't be calling me up here! How in the world did you get my phone number?"

"Oh, that was easy! I just asked Directory Assistance, you know, Information, and she gave it to me. You're not mad, are you? I just wanted to know something about our schoolwork."

"Oh, I see," I said, but I really didn't. "What was it you wanted to know, Candy?"

"Gee, I'm glad you're not sore ... well, what I wanted to know was, what's the real name for a cherry?"

"A what?" I shouted into the phone.

"A cherry! You know, the thing a girl loses when she isn't a virgin no more...."

"ANY more, Candy, ANY more!"

"Well, what's it called?"

"What's WHAT called?"

"Are you puttin' me on? I wanna know what you call that thing that a guy busts when he fucks a girl who's virgin! The only name I know is cherry, but I know there must be a better name for it than that!"

"When a girl has intercourse for the first time...."

"You mean when she gets fucked for the first time," she interrupted.

"That's not a very nice word. If you must use a word, Candy, the word is intercourse."

"You mean the guy busts her 'intercourse'?"

"No, no, no!" I shouted. "Intercourse is the word for fucking ... now you've got me saying it. The other word you want, Candy, is hymen, the technical term for what is called in the vernacular, a cherry."

"Does it hurt real bad when it's busted?" she asked.

"Now I have a feeling you're putting me on, Candy," I replied. "I'm certain you're well aware of how it feels ... or have you simply forgotten? Now I think this conversation has gone far enough. Please don't ever call me at home again, Candy-and I'll expect your theme to be among the rest of them on Friday."

I guess I was a little out of sorts with the girl and possibly a bit harsh, but she had rattled me and she knew it. I hung up, turned out the light and went to bed.

For the first hour I tossed and turned, unable to relax and go to sleep. I kept conjuring up visions of the two teen-age girls, Candace and Stella. My mind pictured them in every detail and I slowly began to include myself in the picture.

I found myself with an erection as I thought about them, so I did the only thing possible under the circumstances. I frigged myself and imagined that it was one or both of the girls doing it to me. It only took a few minutes for me to erupt in my hand. I cleaned myself off with a tissue and then I turned over and passed out.

Nothing of any consequence happened until Friday night when I sat at home going over the themes which my classes had written. In spite of myself, I kept trying to find Candy's theme among them. I was certain I would recognize it.

Most of the papers were inconsequential and told me very little about the sex knowledge of my students. Here and there a theme would be worth a second glance. I have kept copies of the pertinent and detailed ones and am including them in this report, so that you will see what temptations were constantly besieging me.

The first interesting paper was from a girl in one of my Current Events classes. It went into great detail and seemed to be told from experience-not just made up.

Her theme (which I have corrected only in spelling and punctuation) went like this:

My brother and I used to be bathed together in the same bathtub because we were just a year apart in age. I guess when I was about seven years old, I began to notice that he was built different than I was. It didn't disturb me, but I guess I wondered about it. When we were both about eight or nine years old, our baby-sitter, a girl about fourteen or so, was giving us a bath together while our folks were at a movie.

I couldn't help notice that the sitter, I'll call her Jane, paid very close attention to our privates when she soaped us. With me, she would not use a wash-cloth, just her fingers, and when she washed me down there, she always managed to push one of her fingers into my slit. Not far, mind you, but just a little way in. It gave me a sort of a funny feeling. A good feeling, but a funny one.

When she washed my brother's little thing, she would sort of play with it until it wasn't small any more. I remembered how surprised I was as I watched it grow straight and stiff. I could see my brother blush as he watched it grow, too, but he did nothing to stop the sitter from playing with it.

"Hey, how about that!" the sitter exclaimed. "Your little dong likes to be played with! Look! It's standing up asking for more!" She kept on playing with my brother until I, feeling that this was not a nice thing to be doing, stood up and got out of the tub.

I dried myself with a towel and went into our bedroom and put on my nightgown. I could hear some whispering in the bathroom, but I could not hear what was going on.

Curiosity got the better of me finally, and I crept to the door and peered through the open crack by the hinges. What I saw sent hot and cold chills all over my body, but I didn't know why I felt this way. Automatically I felt my hand go down to my slit and poke one finger in about an inch. It felt real good, and the more I watched the more I poked.

Jane was seated on the toilet and my brother was standing in front of her between her legs which were spread wide. Her skirt was pulled above her hips and she had hold of my brother's hand, pushing his fingers in and out of her hole while she was sucking on his dong, as she called it.

What fascinated me the most was the hair around her slit. Mine was bare, and this was the first time I had ever seen pubic hair. Actually it wasn't much because she was only fourteen but to me, at that time, it seemed like an awful lot.

She kept sucking on my brother's dong and pushing his finger in and out of her slit until she suddenly stiffened and let out a moan. I know now that she had climaxed, but at that time, I kept thinking she must have hurt herself with my brother's finger, which she wiped off with the wash-cloth.

Then she took the cloth and wiped herself off down there. She straightened the crotch of her panties which had been pushed aside for my brother's finger, and pulled her skirt back down as she stood up. Although she was whispering, I could now hear her tell my brother that this was to be their big secret and that he must promise never to tell a soul about what happened. He promised, and I just managed to scramble under the covers before they emerged from the bathroom.

We had bunk beds, and I slept on the bottom bunk while my brother slept above me. After the lights were out and the sitter had closed the door and gone downstairs, I kept seeing the same thing over and over in my mind-her sucking him and his hand going into her hole. Unable to sleep, I called to my brother. He asked me what I wanted.

"You won't get mad at me if I tell you something?" I asked.

"I won't get mad. What is it?"

"I saw you and Jane in the bathroom," I blurted out.

"You won't tell, will you?" The scared boy jumped down from his bunk and sat on my bed. "Please promise you won't snitch!" he begged.

"I'm no snitcher," I bragged, "but what I want to know is, did it feel real good-you know, what she was doing to you?"

"Boy, did it ever!" he smiled. "I heard some of the kids talk about girls giving blow-jobs, but I didn't believe them. Most of them just talk a lot and they don't really know anything," he boasted.

"But what about what you were doing to her ... what was that?" I asked innocently.

"Boy, you are dumb!" he said. "But I guess you're kinda young to know about that stuff."

"I'm only eleven months younger than you," I cried angrily. "I do too know a lot of stuff like that!"

"Okay, smartie," he sneered, "if you know so much, why did you ask me about it?"

"Well ... I don't know as much as you do," I said coyly, playing on his male ego, although I didn't realize it at the time.

"Well ... okay, I'll wise you up! She was giving me a blow-job and I was finger-fucking her! That's what boys and girls do when they go out on dates ... you know ... like to the drive-in movie."

"But can't the girl get a baby that way?" I asked.

"Boy, you are dumb! No, the guy has to stick his thing into her thing and shoot some stuff in it, before the girl can have a baby."

"Gee," I marveled, "you sure know a lot of stuff!"

"Sure I do! I'm a boy and they always know all about that stuff. Hey, I've got an idea. I think Jane has a boy come in the house after she thinks we're asleep. Let's sneak downstairs and peek in on them."

It sounded like a good idea, and I couldn't sleep anyway, after all the exciting conversation, so I got out of bed and followed my brother down the stairs quietly. We could hear voices in the living room where there was only one dim light on. We sneaked closer and positioned ourselves behind the room-divider which stood in pitch darkness and had holes for us to spy through.

The boy with Jane was about her age and he was struggling to get out of his pants when we came on the scene. Jane was already down to just her panties and I remember how my breath caught when I saw her cone-shaped breasts bare and shining in the dim light, their nipples dark and standing erect.

She was seated on the couch and caressing her breasts, pulling the nipples through her fingers while she played with them. His pants off, the boy stretched himself on top of her and we saw their hips move in rhythm, rubbing against each other. I felt a hand under my nightgown and looked down at my brother's crotch. He had his dong out and he was rubbing it back and forth with one hand while he tried to play with my slit with the other. It felt real good and I returned to watching the couple on the couch.

Jane pushed the boy off her, stood up and stripped her panties off. Once again the hair around her hole fascinated me. It must have done something to the boy, too, because he reached for her hips and slid down to the floor on his knees in front of her. She spread her legs and I watched him stick out his tongue and push his face right into her hairy slit.

His head moved up and down and around and I looked at Jane's face while he was doing this. Her eyes were closed and she was swinging her head around and had both hands on his head pushing him closer and deeper into her light foliage. Soon she shuddered and I could hear sounds of slurping, like when my Dad used to drink coffee that was too hot. They both got back on the couch then and Jane put one of her legs over the back and the other on the floor, spreading her legs as far as they could go.

We watched as the boy pulled his shorts off and I'll never forget my feeling when I saw the huge dong that sprouted between his legs! Compared to my brother's, it was a monster! He mounted Jane and we saw her guide his thing into her hole. When it was in, they both bounced up and down on the couch and Jane was moaning and groaning with each bounce. I still remember the words she uttered.

"Do it faster!" she kept saying. "Fuck me faster, faster!" Then pretty soon they both lay still.

I turned my attention to my brother and me, and found it was now my hand that was rubbing on his dong and it was also full of a white sticky substance. There was a strange but good feeling between my legs too, as his finger went in and out of my slit with its full length.

When the couple on the couch decided to get dressed, we knew the show was over for tonight and we quietly scampered back to our room.

My brother climbed up to his bunk, and I crawled under the covers to lie awake most of the night, playing with my slit and wondering why it felt so good.

When we were twelve, my brother and I finally got together and actually had sexual intercourse. He used a rubber so that I wouldn't get pregnant, and there was no pain because both of our finger shad stretched my slit and ruptured my cherry long ago.

We still sleep together when we can, and I find I can't let any other boy put his thing into me. Only my brother? I get scared when a boy starts to put on a rubber, although two seconds earlier, I wanted it so bad I could cry. I'm getting the reputation of a prick-teaser around school because I get the guys all hot and bothered, even jacking them off, but I just can't let the boy enter me? After a bad evening in a drive-in or at a party, when I get so horny I can't stand it, I go home and almost rape my brother!

He is starting to get a conscience now, and he wants to call a halt to our love-making. He says incest is dangerous and can drive both of us crazy. I'm going crazy just thinking about his cock!

Could he be right?