Chapter 2

Returning to college in September, Sharon's thoughts were still preoccupied with sex with young boys. She went out on dates when the occasions presented themselves. Her dates met with a warm reception. However, aside from some muzzling and a little feeling up, no one succeeded in fucking her. Or getting her to jerk them off or suck their cocks.

It wasn't until Sharon's senior year that she succumbed. The time, place, and mood were in accord. Her seducer was considerate in taking her cherry. He had even used a condom and was very gentle. Sharon had allowed this seduction to occur in a moment of weakness. Afterwards, she regretted it.

She had experienced some sexual stimulation. In the main, the incident left her cold. It didn't have the thrilling impact of the wanton promiscuous contact with a younger boy. Several years had passed since that first relationship.

The memory of it lingered in Sharon's mind. Her dreams and fantasies were filled with recurrent sexual episodes. Each, more erotic and thrilling than the next one.

When Sharon finally graduated from college, she obtained her license to teach history. She wanted to get away from Hartsdale in New York. The young man who had taken away her virginity lived there also. Her aim was to find a school somewhere where she was unknown. Somewhere where she could start anew. And possibly find the young virgin male flesh to satisfy her lustful longings.

Subscribing to a professional paper, she found an opening at a private school in Darien, Connecticut. Colden Academy! It sounded very ritzy. The salary wasn't too bad to start with. Sharon sent in a resume and received an invitation for an interview. She was surprised that she was quickly accepted.

Her starting salary was $10,000 a year plus a small apartment on campus. Part of her job required her to act as a house mother. It seemed funny to her. She was twenty-two years old with a secret desire to have sexual relations with young boys. And they made her a house mother! That was like turning a fox loose in a chicken house!

When she arrived with her luggage, she was met at the main building by a tall heavy-set man. He was muscular, well proportioned, and about twenty five. He had dark red hair, a sun-burnt face, deep blue eyes, and a slightly bent nose. His face was wreathed in a smile.

"Hi!" he greeted her. "The name's Bob Duncan. Everybody calls me Duke. I don't know how much you follow sports. I used to play football. Almost made pro except that I injured my leg in the Sugar Bowl game. Still walk with a slight limp.

"I'm the football coach here. Also, the dean of boys. I don't know whether you're familiar with Colden. We have some of the worst scholastic misfits here. All rich! All thrown out of schools for some reason or other. They're disruptive as hell. If you have any trouble with these rich s.o.b.'s, let me know!"

"Thank you," Sharon answered. "I'm Sharon Brookes. I'm supposed to teach history here as well as acting as house mother. I hope I don't have any problems on either job."

"At least, you're a refreshing addition to this place. Most of the others are over thirty, married, or disinclined for such an arrangement," Duke informed her. "I'll take you over to your place. After you get settled, I hope you'll let me have the honor of a date with you."

She didn't like his approach. He was moving too fast for her. Not that he wasn't a pleasant sort. Even with his broken nose, he wasn't bad looking. But she was more interested in the younger element at school. However, she didn't want to antagonize him. He was dean of the boys. If they were as bad as he said, she might need his help.

Sharon smiled at him. "I'm sure we can get around to some sort of social activity. However, I want to get settled first. You know, sort of get my feet wet and know where I'm at."

He grinned back. "Sure thing. Come on, I'll direct you to your new digs." Duke got into her car and showed her where she would be living for the year.

Fortunately for Sharon, she was given the freshmen to supervise. Her room was a medium sized room, carpeted, with a TV set. There was a private bathroom complete with tub and shower. It was clean and comfortable. There were eight other rooms in the building, each room accommodating two boys.

After Duke left her, Sharon unpacked and prepared her lessons for the coming week. The freshmen began to arrive and she soon learned their names. They acted politely and she felt that her charges would not present any problems to her. She had a suspicion that Bob Duncan had exaggerated the situation at the school. An attempt on his part to draw her closer to him for some personal reason. Sharon knew what it might be!

She was in for a rude shock during her first class. It was a senior group. Her lesson plan for that class had been carefully planned. When Sharon entered the classroom, she was greeted with lewd whistles.

Her clothes had been chosen carefully for her first day of class. She wore a blue body shirt jersey blouse with a knee length blue plaid skirt. Her black shoulder length hair was carefully combed and in place. An embarrassed flush covered her face at the obscene greeting.

Sharon was visibly upset by the reception. She attempted to maintain control of herself and the situation.

"We can dispense with the whistling. This is a history class. Not a class in ornithology. I would suggest that you concentrate on what I am going to teach you," she told the class.

"Man! I bet you can teach us a lot of things!" a voice from the back of the room answered. The statement had a lewd overtone.

"What's your name?" She snapped angrily. "You! The one who thinks he's so clever!" she demanded.

The youth in the back of the room stood up. He was about five ten in height. He had a rugged build and dark blond long hair. His attitude and speech conveyed his insolence.

"Wayne Trevors! What's yours?" he asked.

This was her first encounter of her authority being challenged. Her face reddened with a display of anger.

"Well, Mr. Trevors, let me tell you something! You're here to learn history. I am not accustomed to this lack of decorum. And for your benefit, as well as any others who may think they can get away with this type of nonsense ; you'll find me very quick to fail that individual," she warned them.

"My name is Miss Brookes. I understand that your work has covered the period up to the Civil War and the Reconstruction period. We will begin our work from the start of the 1876 elections. Then continue on. Can anyone tell me who was the President elect in 1876?" she asked.

"Hey! You can't flunk Trevors!" a voice called out. "We need him this year for the team."

She looked towards the back of the room.

Wayne Trevors was still standing. His blue eyes mocked her. There was a smirk on his face.

"You may sit down now, Mr. Trevors. I am not familiar with your value to whatever team you play on. However, your value to the team won't influence me from failing you if you don't behave yourself," she threatened.

A groan rose from the members of the class. "He's our quarterback for the football team!" another unidentified voice informed her. "If he doesn't play, we won't win the championship this year."

Inwardly, Sharon was trembling. She had never experienced any type of class insubordination. Her professional practice was limited. The class of sixteen large boys challenging her authority panicked her. For a moment, she contemplated leaving the room to seek Duncan's help. If she did that, she knew that she would lose control of the class. It was slowly happening and she knew that she had to recapture her position of authority.

Further dialogue with the class would break down any small hold she had on the class.

"I'll have no further talking in this class without permission!" she insisted angrily. "Evidently, you don't know your work. So, for the rest of this period, you will write an essay. The subject will be the Reconstruction Era of the South after the Civil War. I want at least a thousand words. Anyone not turning in a decent paper will fail."

Her eyes blazed defiantly at the group, focusing her attention on Trevors. His eyes and lips seemed to taunt her.

"Yes, Miss Brookes!" he answered sarcastically. "We'll make it 42 red!"

"What is that supposed to mean? " she asked.

"Nothing! It's just that we are obeying your orders," he replied. A snicker from the others added to her annoyance.

The class began to industriously work on the assignment. It was quiet now in the room. For the moment, Sharon had gained some respite. The opportunity gave her time to consider whether she should resign her job or to remain and try to tame the group.

Duncan had warned her that these boys were thrown out of other schools as disruptive individuals. If a regular school system couldn't cope with them, how was she expected to do so?

What she didn't know was that no one failed at Colden Academy. The policy was to take the money and pass them regardless. The school was more like a vacation resort than an academic institution.

While the class busied themselves with the essay, Sharon studied the various students. Her gaze continued to drift back towards Trevors. Obviously, he was the ring-leader. If she could cultivate him, perhaps he would control the class.

Another thought began to bother her. Whenever she looked at him, she found him looking back at her. Trevors seemed to be mocking her silently. No, that wasn't quite it! It was more of a lewd look. The sonovabitch! He was probably thinking of fucking her.

A crazy idea seized her. She would seduce the conceited bastard! It would serve two purposes. Win his co-operation to keep the class in line and to satisfy her licentious longings.

Trevors wasn't a five year old "marine" whose tiny peter couldn't satisfy her. Or a fifteen year old virgin boy! Trevors was seventeen, a little more worldly! Sex with him could be very exhilarating and exciting.

Her new preoccupation with this sexual aspect started the glands in her cunt to sweat. She felt the slight moisture gathering in her anxious snatch.

The bell rang, interrupting her thoughts and the class. As the class filed out, they dropped their essays on to the desk. Trevors was the last to leave. "I hope you like our essays," he sarcasmed.

Sharon had a free period before the next class. She picked up the papers, stacked them into a pile, and left her room. Her destination was the teacher's lounge. There, she could have a cup of coffee, a cigarette, and leisurely look over the essays.

She was shocked by the contents. The first thing Sharon noticed was that no one had signed his name or class to the paper. The theme in each of the papers was about rape and violence that prevailed in the South after the Civil War. Basically, they were all the same except for the wording and situations.

Duncan stopped into the lounge. "Well," he said, "how was your first class? Any problems?"

"No, not really," she lied. "I wonder if you can answer a few questions for me."

"Sure!" he answered. "Go ahead!"

"What is Wayne Trevors' position with the football team? And what does 42 red mean?" she asked.

"Wayne Trevors is a real hot football prospect. Several colleges are already bidding for him," Duncan told her. "He's practically the entire team. Sharp boy!

"42, red," Duncan chuckled. "Where did you hear that? That's one of the signals called when the quarterback wants to change a play. Are you familiar with football?"

"Sort of," Sharon answered.

"Well, I'll give you a capsule explanation. In the huddle, the quarterback calls a play or series of plays. When they get to the line of scrimmage, if he wants to change the play, he calls 42 red and gives the alternate play by signal. Understand?" he asked. She nodded.

"If you really want to know more about football, I'm free this evening. Any chance for a date?" he offered.

"No, I'm still getting settled. Don't give up. One of these days, I'll accept," she told him.

"Gotta run," Duncan said. "Remember! If you have any problems, old Duke will be happy to help you out with them."

"Thanks," she smiled. "I'll remember that."

Sharon's mind busied itself with her problem. Trevors was a B.M.O.C., big man on the campus. With his influence, the earlier skirmish with the class was a harbinger of what she could expect. The academic insurrection could spread to other classes. She couldn't allow that to happen. Somehow, she had to make some sort of a compromise with Trevors.

She went down to the office to check his class schedule. He was in French. The room was next to hers. Coincidentally, she and Trevors were free at two o'clock. Neither one had any class. Deliberately, she waited until the class ended. When the bell rang, Sharon intercepted Trevors, making the encounter seem by chance.

As inconspicuously as possible, she drew him aside.

"Trevors, I want to talk to you," she began.

"Go ahead and talk! I'm here and can hear you," he answered flippantly. "Anything wrong with my paper?"

"Are you free at two o'clock?" She already knew the answer but she didn't want him to be aware of her knowledge.

"For you, I'm always free. I charge others." He maintained his flippant attitude.

"Oh, stop trying to be so vulgar!" she said, irritation showing in her voice. "I want to see you in my room at two."

His eyes slowly skimmed along her body. She shivered inwardly from his obscene look. "Okay! You're the teacher!"

He turned and hurried to his class. Sharon entered the room, wondering what her next class would be like. She had three other classes. They were almost a repetition of the first class. It seemed her only solution was to make some sort of peace with Wayne.

Wayne Trevors showed up at five minutes after two. Sharon was seated at her desk, gnawing on her lower lip. She was busy thinking of what to say. How to approach her antagonist!

He came in, a big smile on his face. "Well, I'm here, Miss Brookes. What do you want?" His eyes had the same mocking look. It was as though he suspected what she had in mind.

"Wayne? May I call you Wayne?" Sharon began hesitantly.

"Sure! Call me anything you want," his tone was amicable.

"I've been getting some very negative vibrations from the students in my classes. I suspect that you have something to do with it," she paused. She wanted to choose her words so that she could reach him.

"I'm ... I'm not looking for any ... flak. I don't need the hassle, you dig?" she asked. He nodded, smiling. "What do I have to do to get your co-operation?" she wanted to know.

She was saving the offer of her sexual charms as a last resort. Although, she was hoping to get around to that matter also.

His eyes opened in feigned surprise. He threw his hands out, palms outward in a gesture of helpless protest. "Hey! That's a heavy rap! You're saying that you got problems and you're blaming it on me! Can you prove it?"

Sharon knew that she couldn't get any satisfaction using this tact. There was only one way to catch this fly! With sugar!

"All right, Wayne. I'll make a deal with you! You cool it with the others and I'll do anything you want," she offered.

His eyes narrowed in speculation at her offer. "Anything?"

Sharon surmised what was going through his mind. She was prepared to accept his terms. "Anything!" she replied.

"Suppose I said I want to fuck you!" he suggested.

She smiled to herself. He was still a little boy! He used fuck in an attempt to shock her. This confrontation was going her way. She was confident she would win out in this encounter.

"Yes!" she agreed, "but with certain conditions."

"Okay! What are the conditions?" he asked.

"First! You spread the word that everyone is to do his work without any trouble. I want some semblance of order in the classes," she stipulated. "Second! You tell no one about our arrangement and that we keep it so that it's convenient for both of us. Is that agreed?"

He walked over to the door. After pulling down the shade over the window, Wayne locked the door. "Okay!" he agreed. "We might as well start now! Take off your clothes!"

She was startled by his immediate demand. "Right here! In this room? Suppose someone comes in?"

He shook his head. "The door's locked and the shades down. The janitor doesn't get here until after three. We have plenty of time. Start undressing!"

Sharon felt the erotic pulsations growing within her. She unhooked her skirt and placed it neatly on the desk. Wayne watched her disrobe. There was no mistaking the lustful gleam in his eyes. She reached down to her crotch and unfastened the snaps to her bodysuit blouse. All that remained hiding her sexual charms was the bra and the pantyhose.

Her arms reached around her back and unfastened the bra. The two bowl-shaped breasts swung free of their confinement. Her tits were large round globes, tipped with succulent roseate cherries. Stepping out of her shoes, Sharon reached into the elastic waist-band of the pantyhose and pulled them off.

She saw Wayne's eyes riveted on her sexual attributes. His glance swept from her ample white mounds of flesh down to the triangular patch of hair that covered the erogenous trench between her thighs. Her eyes watched the crotch in his pants to detect the signs of his sexual awakening. There was no mistaking the bulge.

"I've done what you wanted," Sharon said. She threw her arms out to emphasize her complete exposure. "Now what do you want me to do?"

Wayne licked his lips in lustful anticipation. Hurriedly, he disrobed. Under his dungarees, he wore a jock-strap.

"You just joined my fraternity," he answered. "The first thing we usually do is paddle someone's ass. That's to teach them who's boss! So before we do anything else, I'm going to work your ass over a little."

She was appalled by his intentions. Sharon had never experienced physical contact of this type. Even as a child, she had never been spanked. Her limited knowledge of hazing was that ass-paddling could get a bit rough.

"Please, don't hurt me!" she pleaded. "You said you wanted to fuck me! I'll do anything you want, but please don't hurt me."

He grinned malevolently. "You said that you would do anything I wanted. Right now, I want to whip your ass! Now, do we still have a deal or don't we? Just say the word and we'll call the whole deal off!"

She knew that he had the upper hand right now. Her scheme had worked but not to her advantage. "All right!" she sighed in reluctant agreement. "What do I have to do?"

Wayne ordered her to drape herself over one of the desks. Her tits rested along the edge of the desk. The other edge of the desk pressed against the bend of her thighs. Her plump rounded asscheeks were exposed to his optional pleasures.

He picked up the wooden pointer near the blackboard. She held onto the desk, hunching her shoulders in anticipation of the first blow. The swishing sound of the wooden stick whistled through the air. Whack! It struck the soft mounds of buttock flesh.

"Ouch!" she cried out. The blow sent a radial wave of hot pain across her ass. She tried to fight back tears of pain.

Whack! Whack! The pointer whistled through the air in quick succession. Each time the blow landed, her body would jerk at the force of the contact.

"OW! OWWW!" she cried out. "Please, no more!" she begged. "Have a heart, Wayne! I can't stand the pain! If I yell anymore, someone is bound to hear me. They'll come here and find the door locked. Then we'll both be in trouble."

"Okay!" he grudgingly conceded. "Shit! You'd never be able to join our frat. You can't take it. I'm gonna give you three more shots on the ass. Keep your mouth shut. If you can take it without making any more noise, we'll call it quits. Otherwise, we'll go somewhere else and I'll really work your ass over."

Sharon realized that it was a small concession to make. She only hoped she could bear the pain. Her imagination envisioned what it would be like with Wayne paddling her ass with a heavier instrument than the thin wooden pointer.

"All right!" she nodded her head, "but please get it over with."

Gripping the desk tightly, she squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. Whack! Whack! Whack! The wooden stick struck her buttocks with tremendous force. In spite of her tightly shut eyes, tears squeezed out from the excruciating pain. Her asscheeks felt like someone had applied hot coals to them. The ass seemed to be on fire while the pain filled her body.

There was a tone of disappointed disgust in his voice. "I hope you fuck better," he said. "You can get up now."

Gingerly, Sharon touched her tortured bottom. She hoped that the pain wouldn't last too long.

Her eyes were brimming with tears. "That wasn't necessary. I thought we could have some satisfactory fucking or some other type of sex. Why did you do that to me?"

"Like I told you! I wanted to show you who's boss around here," he told her. "I haven't got time for any real fucking. So all I want right now is a blow job. And make it good!"

Wayne slipped off the athletic supporter. His cock swung free. The rigid piece of flesh wavered up and down a few times and then stood out boldly. He sat down on a desk, spreading his legs. "Start sucking, Miss Brookes!"

Sharon crouched between his parted legs. The position was very painful. In that pose, the skin seemed to stretch more and her asscheeks burnt with greater intensity. She shifted her pose. Standing up, she bent over his prick. She moved her feet back so that her body was at a slant. It was a little awkward but more comfortable.

She slipped one palm under his balls, cupping them softly in her hand. There was a smell of masculine sweat to his prick. The odor aroused the sexual fervor that was growing inside of her lascivious mind. Her other hand grasped his stiff cock at the root of his shaft.

Wayne had a nice sized dick. About six or six and a half inches long. Thick, also. She stared at the bluish veins alongside the length of the" shaft. This was her own special cock. Her ultimate goal had been achieved. The other experiences with a penis were just warm-ups.

"Come on!" Wayne impatiently ordered. "Let's see how good you can suck!"

The crown of his cock disappeared into the wet cavern of her mouth. Her pursed lips closed over the head as she rolled her tongue around the velvety tip. She absorbed more of his luscious prick. Letting her tongue skim along the rim of the crown, she slid it along the consumed portion of his shaft.

She released his balls and started to massage the perineum. Her fingers gently glided from the crack of his ass back to his scrotum. As she massaged that area, her lips and tongue teased the hard-on in her mouth.

Her compressed lips vacuumed the shaft while her tongue flicked rapidly against the cock. Soft crooning murmurs escaped her lips as she savored the delicious flesh in her mouth.

"Mmmmm! Mmmmm!" she cooed.

Wayne's hands closed down on her head, pushing her face closer against his crotch. "Hey! That's good! That's good! Keep sucking, baby! I'm going to shoot a load any minute!"

Little groans of voluptuous approval growled from his throat. "Ohhhhh! Ohhhhh!" he groaned. Wayne began to pump. Sharon felt his balls jerk, heralding the rumble of an orgasm. He started to hump his hips, thrusting them at a quick pace.

She grabbed the root of his shaft with both hands to control his pistoning cock as it shuttled rapidly in and out of her mouth. It was the only way she could control his frenzied drive. If she didn't control his thrusts, she would choke on his prong as he sought to drive it deep into her throat.

Her tightly compressed lips felt the spasms of his prick as the heavy come spurted out. Patiently, she waited for the pulsating dick to finish its climactic contractions. The thick emissions subsided. Pressing her lips firmly against the shaft, Sharon moved her mouth upwards, milking out the last vestiges of his come.

He sighed in blissful ecstasy as she completed the operation.

Sharon's cheeks were puffed. Her mouth was filled with his come. Slowly, she swallowed the thick sticky fluid. During the blow-job, her cunt tingled with erogenous pleasure. She was enjoying a type of cuntal bliss.

Inwardly, she knew that aside from the enjoyment of the act and sensual satisfaction she derived, she was still unfulfilled. Her cunt became clammy from the excitement. Her body shook with ecstatic tremors. Yet, she was still to have a real orgasm from these acts.

She wasn't too concerned. Eventually, she would get Wayne to really fuck her. To have that wonderful cock pounding into her anxious snatch. Then! Then, she would know the thrilling bliss of an orgasm! At that moment, Sharon would achieve her ultimate goal.

Wayne stood up. Reaching out, he squeezed one of her tits. "You suck real good, Miss Brookes!" he complimented her approvingly. "That's a beautiful tit you got there! We're gonna have to get together for some real fucking.

"Well, gotta run! Football practice, ya know! I'll let you know when we can get together."

"What about our deal, Wayne?" she asked. "I've carried out my part. What about the problems with the students?"

"Oh! Yeh! I'll spread the word around. Everybody behaves in your classes or else! Sure thing!" he agreed. "I hope you fuck as well as you suck, Miss Brookes. I'm going to look forward to our next session."

She forced a mile. "Yes, I enjoyed this little meeting. We should have a better one the next time."

He dressed and left. Sharon started to dress. Putting on the pantyhose was painful. She decided not to wear them. Instead, she put on her bodysuit blouse without fastening the crotch. Then she adjusted her skirt. The pantyhose was stuffed into her purse.

Looking around the room, she checked for any tell-tale signs of her illicit affair. Satisfied, Sharon left. Her first encounter was very satisfying except for the beating. She suspected that there was a cruel streak in Wayne. A tendency towards sadism. The possibility of that aspect didn't thrill her. She would have to be on guard for it. Try to avoid it!

Otherwise, things seemed to be working out all right at Colden Academy. And there were those freshmen in her cottage. She was going to be their housemother. A little incest didn't hurt anyone, even if it was only a proxy-kind of incest!