Chapter Twenty-One
"You sent for me, Mister Clover?" Ivy asked as the old man admitted her to the apartment.
"Right on time," the old man remarked. "That's good 'cause I don't like to waste time."
"It's my teacher's training," Ivy told him.
"Good, you keep doing as you're told and you'll remain a teacher," he assured her. "Now, let me see your teacher's ass."
Having learned her lessons well, without any hint of embarrassment, Ivy began to undress. As much as she hated this old man, she was drawn to him. She needed his roughness, his total disregard for her wants and needs. Already her cunt was drooling. Although esthetically she couldn't stand the sight of him, emotionally she needed him. Yet, her desire for him was unlike her desire for Meg-but it was just as compelling. She wanted to see his cock. She wanted to mouth and worship his gnarled and wizened organ.
When she was totally naked, she dropped to her knees in front of him. She began begging him to give her his prick.
He laughed down at her.
Ivy didn't care that she was humiliating herself ... she only wanted to suck his cock. She was like a starving infant in need of a milk-filled tit.
As he laughed down at her he began undressing.
Ivy's body trembled-he was going to grant her her wish. She waited.
When the skinny creature had taken off all of his clothes, he stood before her with his hands on his bony hips. His shriveled prick was waiting for her mouth.
Ivy's mouth was watering.
"Lick my legs, teacher," the man told the kneeling woman.
Ivy was more than glad to put her tongue to work on the leathery flesh. She knew she had to do it to get her reward.
The man continued to laugh at the cowering woman. All of his life he had been nothing but a menial worker, but this woman added a new dimension to his boring life. Before Ivy came into his life, he suffered from an inferiority complex, especially at the high school with all well-to-do teachers around him, but as this moment he had this most beautiful English teacher licking his legs. Her tongue was now at his thigh, she was heading for the prize.
Before she encircled his cock with her wet mouth, Ivy looked up at him and waited for his permission. He shook his head yes and she gobbled his swelling prick into her mouth. She beamed with pride as her mouth caused him to respond. As her fingers squeezed and played with his wrinkled bag of balls, he took hold of her head with his hands and began to brutally fuck her mouth with his cock.
Gurgling sounds of love came from Ivy's throat as perverted thrills ran through her body. She marveled at how easily she handed herself over to those who could actually hurt her. But what did it matter? Her desires would satisfy themselves in no other way. This was what her life was all about. This had meaning. Being on her knees with this old man's prick in her mouth was what she had been born for.
Ivy had to hold on to the man's legs tightly because he was now fucking her mouth furiously. She could feel his prick swelling inside her mouth. She felt it getting stronger and stiffer. To obtain her own satisfaction, she dropped a hand to her leaking cunt. She dug three fingers up into her seething hole while his cock-head tried to enter her throat. "Ungh, agh, uhhhhh," she grunted as his surging cock pumped her throat full of sperm. She gagged, she sputtered, she swallowed and came.
Not letting her regain her composure, he picked Ivy up as if she were a doll and threw her onto the bed. She landed upon her back, her legs kicking wildly in the air. She grew frightened and wondered what she'd done to displease him. He dove onto her body and struggled with her to slip his once-again erect prick into her cunt. "AAAAIIIIEEEEE!" Ivy wailed as his hot poker plunged up into her pussy. He fucked her as if she were a doll. He violated her mouth with his aged tongue. He forced her to return his foul kiss. He banged her cunt. He shoved at her. He screwed her for twenty minutes, drove her to experience her second orgasm. And when he was through using her, he allowed a visiting friend to have her. They were then joined by a teenaged boy named Carl. The men tied her in a spread-eagled position on the bed while Carl pushed his teenaged cock into Ivy's mouth. The other old man climbed up between Ivy's thighs and shoved his cock up her cunt.
The room smelled of sweat, of male bodies, of stale sperm. Still it was like perfume to Ivy. She felt like a puppet as the three males worked on her. She felt happy. It wasn't a necessity that she be tied, she would have stayed in place without the ropes. She wanted this whole thing to happen. And when Carl's cock went off in her mouth she felt wanted. When the old man's prick erupted in her cunt she felt needed.
Mentally, she thanked Eve for introducing her to this kind of life. She felt like a mystical pot-head who thinks he knows the meaning of life. She sat up in bed when they unfastened the ropes and, wiping the flowing semen from her lips, she gushed, "I love you all."