Chapter 10

The teacher had learned her lesson.

The following week at school she was thankful no boy paid any attention to her. She wore a longer dress than usual so she wouldn't distract anybody with her shapely legs. Also she made it a point to wear a blouse that would conceal the beauty of her breasts. She didn't want to tempt anybody that way. Things were running smoothly and there were no problems. That was, until she met up with Beatle. Beatle was only a slang name everybody called him. His real name was Bonavitch. Nobody could pronounce it correctly so they wound up calling him Beatle.

"Beatle," she told him, "I've heard rumors that the Chains were going to have a fight with the Nineteenth Street Gang. And judging from what I have heard, you are supposed to be the leader of the Nineteenth Street Gang."

"Sure I am," he told her, "what's it to you. Teach?"

"You could get killed and then what would all of your glory be?" she asked defiantly.

"Tell me," he smiled. "The only thing that would keep me away from a nice bloody gang war would be a nice piece of ass."

"Why don't you come over and see me tonight?" she suddenly asked. She blurted it out before she had given it any serious thought. Yet to save Beatle she felt she had to offer herself.

"You know, Teach," he told her, "I'll take you up on that. I've heard you're a pretty good lay."

"I hate the way you kids talk about it," she said nervously. "You make it all sound so slimey. All I want to do is try to talk some sense into your head."

He patted his cock which was bulging now in his jeans and nodded.

"I want you to give this head a workout, if you will," he smiled.

He had gotten his point across. She had, too.

"I want in the worst way to give you a good time," she told him, "but it doesn't have to involve sex."

"Just give me your address," he told her, "and I'll be over tonight."

"Will you promise me you won't get involved in that gang warfare?"

"Like I told you," he nodded as she wrote out her address, "I always put ass before war."

Handing it to him, the principal walked in. Alice Turner was glad that he hadn't overheard their conversation of a few moments ago.

"What are you handing him?" the principal asked her.

"Just a homework assignment," she lied.

"That kid will never do any homework," the principal said, "and you've got to watch him. You know, he's the president of the Nineteenth Street Gang."

"That's what I've heard," she replied.

The principal studied her carefully.

"Could I help you?" she asked, trying to get him off her back.

"If you know anything about this gang warfare that's supposed to come off tonight," he told her, "I wish you'd tell me. We have quite a few gang members in your classes. If you should eavesdrop and hear something and I should learn of it, I could notify the authorities."

"I haven't heard a thing," she said smoothly.

"Just checking," he told her.

She knew very well what he had in mind. And she was glad not to tell him anything.

"All right," he told her, "just keep me posted, Miss Turner."

When she left the school that day, Alice Turner realized she had a tiger by the tail in the form of Beatle. For Beatle was considered a ruthless, cold-blooded killer. Rumor was that he'd killed a boy the previous year. Another boy was set up and committed suicide in his cell. So they didn't bother to check it any further.

That evening when Beatle showed up at her door, she had changed her mind.

"I'm busy, Beatle," she told him without opening the door.

"Open the door, bitch," he said gruffly.

"Don't you understand," she said, "I don't want to be disturbed."

"Knock it off, Miss Turner," he told her, "you said I could come over here. You'd better keep your word. You don't know who you're talking to."

"I have a pretty good idea," she said tightly.

"If you know what's good for you," he said evenly, "you'll open the door for me."

She opened the door and once he had his foot in he barged forward.

"Look, you tough," she told him, "I don't want to deal with you. The principal came just as you were leaving and he warned me about you."

"He should issue a warning about you," he snapped. "Everybody knows you're a fucking, sucking nympho."

"I won't have you talking to me that way," she said evenly.

"I'll talk to you any damned way I please," he said flatly.

It was obvious to her that Beatle was a pretty rough customer.

"You are pretty cock sure, aren't you, tiger?" she snapped in defiance.

"You bet your sweet ass I am," he told her, "and I've got good reason to be. I know where it's at, Teach, I know it all."

"Oh, do you?" Alice smiled.

No sooner had Beatle locked the door, than he unzipped his fly and reached for his cock.

"You keep that loaded pistol in your pants," she told him.

"All right, sweetheart," he told her, "you asked for it. I'll let you suck it like I make the chicks at school do it."

He pulled out his cock with one hand and a pistol with the other.

"I'll hold this next to your head while I make you eat my dick," he told her. "And if you quit licking for one minute I'll blow your brains out."

"That will never work, Beatle," the teacher explained. "You will have me so fearful I won't be able to give you a good suck at all."

"Let's see if you can or if you can't," he told her. "Your life might depend on it, Teach."

This really got her unnerved.

"I'll make you a deal, Beatle," she told him. "If you will agree to throw that ridiculous pistol down on the floor while we have sex, I'll do everything you could ever ask for."

"All right," he agreed, "we'll deal."

She began undressing and deliberately designed her movements to entice him. She wanted to make sure that he got as turned on as could be so he would be agreeable.

"I'll bet you're a tit man," she smiled, "and I'll bet you like to jab your cock between a woman's breasts."

"I never tried that," the boy admitted shyly, momentarily becoming a boy instead of a gang leader.

"It's about time you did," the teacher told him.

Pulling off her bra she let her huge breasts do their enticing. He walked over to them and bent over and licked her nipples hungrily.

"Oh, baby," he smiled, "you really got me excited."

"I'm glad I have," she told him.

He was only too eager to demonstrate his skill at loving her. He pulled off his pants and stripped out of his shorts. He stood there stark naked with his big cock swaying between his legs.

"Let's get a nice hard-on there, honey," she told him. "If there's one thing I don't like to see it's a cock hanging limp between a guy's legs. The penis in the erect state is what makes me turn on."

"Maybe it's because I'm nervous doing it with a teacher. You're an older woman and all."

"Not so old that you have to go limp on me," she laughed.

She was still wearing her panties and when she stepped over to him he tugged at the elastic waistband of them.

"Are you afraid to feel of me?" Alice smiled up at Beatle.

"No," he said as he reached down with one hand to feel of her vagina which was moistening. He used his other hand to jack-off.

"Oh, it's getting nice and hard," she observed, "I can hardly wait until you turn on."

The teacher knew how to make the young boy turn on. Gang leader or no, she knew that he wanted sexual excitement.

"Let's go into the bedroom," she smiled.

Following her into the bedroom, Beatle began getting more and more excited. When her panties were pulled off and he gained a close-up view of her crotch as she pulled her pussy lips apart, his mouth watered in hungry anticipation.

"How would you like to have something to eat, honey?" she smiled.

Looking at the moist pink flesh he nodded.

"I could go ape over that," he said.

Getting on the bed he sprawled out and buried his head over her crotch. His hot tongue swept along her juicy slit.

"Eat me, baby," she begged him. "That's the way. Eat my pussy."

It was amazing how she could bring the young gang leader low over her mound as he found his excitement there. His hot tongue surged into her.

"Finger fuck my asshole while you're eating my pussy," she suggested.

He accommodated her. He let a finger slide up her rectum while his tongue stabbed her vagina. She was really happy now.

"Ohhh, that's beautiful," she groaned in delight, "oh, baby, keep doing that. Oh, honey, now you're giving it to me."

He was determined to give her what she wanted. But she was wiggling about so much he knew that he would have to hold her in place if he was going to keep his face over her crotch.

Pulling his finger from her asshole, he let his hands slide under her ass cheeks. He held onto them. Squeezing them he let his tongue continue with its piston-like movements into her pussy.

"Eat me," she panted, "oh, baby, eat my sweet box."

The massaging movements on her buttocks added to the pleasure.

"Sweetheart," she panted, "I love it when you squeeze my ass like that. Oh, baby, never stop loving me. Oh, honey, I can't stand it."

Waves of sexual ecstasy swept over Alice. She was engulfed with the lusty tongue which was licking, lapping, teasing and tantalizing her vagina.

The teacher tasted good to the young boy. He hadn't had any pussy in a while. He had been too busy engaging in gun duels to take time out for love.

Now she wanted him to focus his action on her love button. She knew that his tongue action was bringing her to the brink.

"Baby," she whispered, "use your tongue on my clit. That's it. Oh, sweetheart. I love it when you do that. Oh, honey, keep that up!"

The fantastic pleasure that he felt at this point gave way to the moment of climax. For the teacher was juicing. He pressed his lips tighter over her, holding her in place.

"Eat me," she begged, "oh, Beatle, eat my sweet pussy."

Beatle knew how to do it. He had been trained well. Starting when he was twelve years old with a sexy young fifteen-year-old girl he had learned how. He wasn't stopping now. He knew how important it was to keep his tongue twirling, licking and lashing inside the velvety vagina until more love juice erupted.

He was delighted when she came again. It was a moment of triumph for his tongue.

Lapping her up he finally pulled off. Then in almost a reverent way, Beatle's lips pressed on her vagina in a soul kiss directed toward her pussy.

"You're such a sensitive lover," the teacher told the young boy. "It's a shame you have to go out and kill people."

"It is a fucking shame," he told her, "but that's the way it is."

"I know that's the way it is," she admitted, "but it doesn't have to be that way, does it?"

"I'm afraid it does," he said sadly.

All the time that he was talking, she was stroking on his penis. Her hand pleased him.

"I would like it if you'd get down there between my legs," he suggested, "so you can use your tongue and do everything."

"All right, Beatle," she agreed.

She rested her head on the young boy's thigh. Then she pulled on his cock with one hand while she stroked his balls with the other. He loved all of the attention she was giving him.

"Beatle, did you ever kill anybody?" the teacher demanded.

Beatle sat bolt upright in bed. He glared at her. His cock went limp.

"What the fuck are you tryin' to do?" he shouted at her.

When she saw the rage glaring from his eyes she realized she had struck on the wrong train of conversation with the young student.

"I didn't mean anything," she told him.

He whacked her across the face.

"None of you damn teachers mean anything," he told her. "I've been quizzed and questioned for the past year. That kid who hung himself in jail did it. Not me, damn it, not me!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said as she saw that bringing up the subject had driven him into a frenzy.

"You should be sorry," he said as he got to his feet and paced the floor. "I never did it. But everybody thinks I did. It's awful."

"I imagine it would be," she said quietly. "Oh, Beatle, how did we all get so twisted up?"

"It's a hell of a good question," he admitted, "and I don't have the damned answer. But it burns the crap out of me to have teachers and friends come after me. They want to put me behind bars. I know what it's like in Juvenile Hall."

"Have you ever been there, Beatle?"

"I've spent half of my life there," he told her. "Have you got a cigarette?"

"Sure," she said as she noticed how nervous he was getting.

She pulled open a dresser drawer and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and tossed them to him.

"Give me a light," he said.

She could see that he was shaking when she lit the cigarette for him.

"Perhaps we should just never talk about anything involving gangs," she said. "Not while we're trying to enjoy ourselves."

"I was telling you about Juvenile," he continued, wanting to unwind. "It's hell. They put you in a tiny little cell with a bunch of fags. They want to play with you and get their rocks off. Well, I'm not gonna let them. One guy came after me and I gave him a sock in the jaw for a thank-you note."

"Beatle," she told him, "I've heard it really is dreadful."

"The food," he told her, "you can't imagine what they make us eat. They put something in the food, too. Something that won't make us violent."

"That's ridiculous," she said, lying through her teeth. "You would never get violent."

As Beatle banged his hand on the dresser he glared at her.

"Of course I'd never get violent," he said. "Not unless somebody goads me. Then I'm like any other fucking damned animal. I feel trapped and I protect myself."

"Of course," she replied.

It was becoming painfully clear to Alice what the score was. Beatle was more than a little upset now.

"Why does everybody like to pick on me?" he demanded. "I haven't done anybody in. Damn it all to hell, I think I'm a pretty good cat."

"Of course you are," she said, "and it's ridiculous for all of these people to pin labels on you. Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you just got in with the wrong people?"

"Do you know why we form gangs?" he asked the teacher.

"I have no idea, Beatle," she said as she poured herself a drink.

"We form gangs so we have somebody that gives a damn about us," he told her, "as long as our folks didn't care about us, and society is sorry we're alive, we figure we've got to stick together and love each other."

"I understand," she said. "You don't have to explain to me."

"Maybe I want to," Beatle insisted, "maybe sometimes a guy has to confide in somebody."

"I'll be your crying towel. I'll be whatever you want," she said.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and asked for a drink.

"I'll feel better when I have some booze in me," he told her, "that blurs the pain."

"I know what you mean," the teacher smiled through misty eyes.

"Are you going through something, too?" the boy asked.

"Yes, in my own way I am," Alice admitted almost sadly.

"What?" the boy asked in amazement. "You've got it real nice. You've got everything you want, haven't you?"

"I have hardly anything I want," she told him sadly. "I only wish I did."

"You've got it made," he told her. "You've got your profession. You're making good money and you have a nice apartment. You probably have a nice car. I ain't got nothin'."

"I haven't found myself," she said. "I don't know what I want out of life. But I do know one thing. I'm oversexed. I must have men. I desire them."

"You sound like that hustler," he told her, "the one who wrote the book about being a hooker."

"I'm not like her," she said, "I'm tormented. That woman could take it all in her stride. She wasn't ashamed of anything. I am. I feel guilty."" One more drink and the teacher was able to tell the student what bothered her.

"When an adult has sex with a minor," she explained, "that is considered unlawful. They can throw you in jail and throw away the key."

"Just because you brought a guy a little happiness?" he asked in amazement.

"Ridiculous as it seems to you and me," the teacher said with a shrug, "that's the way respectable society looks at it. We're garbage. Refuse."

"That's too bad," he said sadly, "it really is too bad." It was obvious to him that he had to do something and he had to do it quickly.

"Let's quit all this talking," he told her, "and start playing."

"What do you want to do?" she asked Beatle as he snuffed out a cigarette.

"I want you to do everything to me," he told her, "I really like to be licked."

"You like to be what?" she asked, not quite sure she heard correctly.

"I like to be licked and sucked all over," he told her. "I used to go with a little girl who could go all over my body like a monkey. She was fantastic. Had a tongue that wouldn't atop."

"She licked everything?" Alice asked, looking at him as her blue eyes blazed with excitement.

"Everything," he replied.

It was time now for the teacher to do her thing.

"How would you like to have your ass sucked?" she smiled.

"I was hoping you'd say that," he replied. "I'd love it."

"I'll give you an ass suck from different positions," she explained. "First, if you'd get in the middle of the bed on all fours you could watch me sucking in the mirror. You just bend over so your ass is up there for me to grab it and let my tongue stab it. You'll enjoy it."

"I know I will, Teach," the young student nodded agreeably.

He could hardly wait for the sucking she would be giving him.