The Accidental Gigolo Pt. 01

PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
MarshAlien
MarshAlien
2,691 Followers

"You wanna maybe push your ass off the chair a little?" she asked with a bemused expression.

"Sorry," I said. I grabbed hold of the armrests and boosted my hips into the air, allowing her to drag my sweats and shorts and boxers down my thighs. My oversized T-shirt still hid all the good bits, and Ms. Lee looked up at me with a kind of faint half-smile as she began slowly sliding her right hand up my thigh, the fingers slipping underneath the T-shirt and then finally meeting and encircling my cock.

Her expression changed, a wave of bewilderment washing over her face as her fingers worked their way up to the tip, and then back down again. She wrapped her right hand around the base, and then reached in with her other hand.

"Jesus Christ," she whispered.

I reached down and yanked my T-shirt over my head. She continued to stare at my dick, her two hands wrapped around it, one atop the other.

"So are you going to, uh, suck it?" I asked. "Or are you just going to choose up sides?"

She leaned forward, her eyes locked on her target, and I felt her warm lips engulfing the head, coming to rest an inch or two beneath the ridge. Then, without moving her head, she began making these pulsing sucks, as if my cock led to a milkshake that was still a little too frozen.

I groaned. This was going to be the shortest blowjob that Pamela Lee had ever given. Just as I was about to lose it — actually, just as I was about to tell her I was going to lose it; that's just polite, right? — she pulled off herself.

And then she began licking the shaft, looking up at me all the while with her eyes sparkling. And then she began sucking my balls into her mouth, one after another. And then she took my dick into her mouth again, and went lower. And lower. And lower. Holy fuck! Try as she might, she couldn't go all the way, so when she was down as far as she thought she could get, she started bobbing her head up and down, letting her lips glide up to the crown and then back to her starting point. And up. And down. And. . .

"Ms. Lee," I said. "I'm gonna. . . Madame, je suis, er. . . oh, fuck!"

Chapter 3: The Accidental Blackmailer, Part Two

I sat back in my chair, having just exploded into my French teacher's mouth. Well, mostly into her mouth. I actually hadn't jerked off for the last week, so I did have a lot in storage, so to speak. She eagerly drank down what she could, though, allowing only a little bit to leak out between her lips. Most of that slid down my cock to pool at the base, although some dribbled down her chin and landed on her upper chest.

I just sat there watching as she pulled every last ounce of fluid out of me and then let her lips slide down my cock, where she sucked up the cum clinging to my balls.

Finally, she looked up at me, her face wholly undecipherable.

"I suppose you're going to want to fuck me now," she said.

If I were a little bit more experienced, I like to think I would have recognized the Coy Lover, and tossed off an appropriate response, like "I suppose I am," or "I suppose you want me to, don't you?" or something really obnoxious like, "Yeah, I think you've earned it, baby." Well, no, I couldn't pull that one off, but maybe something with sophistication and style, like "How 'bout I give something back to you first?"

I was still light years away from any of those answers, though, because I didn't even see that woman. The woman I saw was the Angry Blackmail Victim, and my response was entirely different.

"No, no, no, no," I held up my hand. "We had a deal. You sucked my, um, my weenie, and I'll hack into the school computers for you. Wow, that was incredible, Ms. Lee. You were amazing."

"Um, but seriously," she started, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and then licking that clean. "Don't you want to —"

"You know what I want to do?" I interrupted her. Honestly, did she think I had no principles at all? "What I want to do is spend the afternoon out by the pool. I can study French, and if I have any questions, you'll be right there to answer them. I mean, it's not like you can leave, huh?"

"The pool?" she asked skeptically.

"Yeah, don't worry, nobody can see in," I told her. "We've got one of those privacy fences."

She still looked skeptical.

"I'm sure Mom won't mind if you borrow a suit," I told her. "Come on. It'll be fun."

By this point, I had stood up, and stepped around her. I pulled my sweats back on. She stood up and, with a final puzzled look at me, went down the hall to my parents' room. By the time I got down to the pool, with a tray full of sandwiches I'd thrown together in the kitchen, she was already there, in a white bikini that complemented her long dark hair and her dark skin. Her tits, as I would have guessed, were swimming in my mother's top, but hey, was it my fault she didn't think to bring her own bathing suit?

"I'm sorry, Terry," she looked over at me. "This was the best fit. So I'm afraid you'll have to put up with some skin. Is that a problem?"

"Not at all," I said calmly. "Help yourself to a sandwich."

We spent the afternoon by the pool, me with lemonades, Ms. Lee with a series of gin and tonics that looked to my untrained eye as if they were getting lighter and lighter on the tonic as the sun started down toward the horizon.

By six o'clock, I was done with my studying.

"I thought I'd grill some shrimp tonight," I said. "How does that sound?"

"I'm sorry," Ms. Lee yawned and stretched. "I guess I fell asleep. What did you say, honey?"

Honey?

"I, uh, said I thought I'd grill some shrimp," I said. "But I've got to go get some charcoal from the store, so can I ask you to start the salad while I'm gone? Everything's in the fridge. I'll be back in like twenty minutes."

"My pleasure," Ms. Lee smiled at me.

I cycled down to the store and returned with a bag of charcoal strapped to my handlebars. The block party was still going strong, so I had to weave my way in and out of various neighbors as I returned. I threw the bike into the garage, and as I walked toward the kitchen door, I took a quick glance in through the window.

Oh, my fucking God. Ms Lee was standing at the kitchen island with her back to me. She'd started the salad; ranged around the countertop were little cut-up piles of peppers and carrots, and a bowl of shredded lettuce. It was the zucchini that had evidently proved too much for her. Because there she was, her knees slightly bent, her feet spread about two feet apart, the crotch of her bathing suit pulled aside with one hand, fucking herself with the little green guy. She held the slimmer end in the tips of her fingers and alternately thrust it inside herself and then expelled it back out with what must have been some incredible internal muscles.

I could have watched her all day — nobody could see through the window unless they were actually standing in the driveway — but pretty soon people on the street were going to notice that I was standing outside my own house just looking inside. With one last look, I shook my head and headed for the kitchen door.

She must have heard me coming; she was standing at the sink washing her hands when I walked past her with the bag of charcoal. The zucchini, oddly enough, was nowhere in sight.

"Hey," I greeted her as I set down the bag.

"Oh, hi," Ms. Lee answered in what seemed to me to be a strained tone of voice. She turned to give me a smile as she grabbed for a towel. She took a quick glance down at my swim trunks, though, and I remembered that while I was cycling I'd unbuttoned the shirt I'd been wearing when I left. I hadn't re-buttoned it when I got back home, so Ms. Lee could clearly see the tip of my rock-hard dick poking its way through the waistband.

"Oh, my God," I said, "I'm so. . ."

Before I could finish my apology, she'd evidently gotten so flustered by my immaturity that she knocked over the plastic salad bowl, spilling lettuce on the floor.

"Here, let me help," I offered.

"No, don't bother," she answered, still clearly flustered, "I'll just. . ."

Ms. Lee had dropped to a squatting position to retrieve the lettuce, and I watched as her eyes glazed over.

"Oh, shit," she squeaked.

"Are you okay?" I asked, taking a step closer as I noticed the odd flush on my teacher's face.

"Oh, I," she moaned, wrapping her hands around my right knee and pulling her face tight against my thigh as she began to tremble. "I'm. . . I'm. . ."

"You're?" I said.

"Unnngggghhhhhhh!" Pam groaned, her body shaking violently.

I was shocked to find that my beautiful French teacher was rubbing her crotch up and down against my shin, kind of like our old German Shepherd, Lucky, used to do before Mom made Dad take him to the shelter. And then I felt it, something hard in her swimsuit, just like there was something hard in mind.

Oh, shit, I thought, she's one of those, those, um, she-males. Oh, gross. . . NO, WAIT! It's the zucchini. She's still got that fuckin' zucchini in her! My entry must have surprised her more than she let on, and she couldn't get the little feller out in time.

"OH, God," she murmured, "Oh, I — "

My cock was even bigger now, a full inch protruding above my shorts against my stomach. She was looking directly at it, and to my shock, she suddenly turned her head sideways and tried to take it into her mouth.

The funny thing is, I'd watched that videotape of the card game probably ten times all told. I'd heard Natalie Winston call Ms. Lee a "quantity queen." Hell, I'd even heard Ms. Lee tell the other ladies that if she thought any of her students had a good six inches she'd be — how was it she put it? — conjugating all the verbs he wanted for him after school. And I knew that I had a good eight, maybe even nine inches.

But until that point, I swear it had never occurred to me to put the two of them together, or, quite honestly, to interpret her behavior earlier this afternoon as anything but a response to my accidental blackmail. Yeah, I know, give me a fucking break. I already admitted I was whipped, right?

That ended the day of the Norton Avenue block party. Increasingly confident that I had what Ms. Lee wanted, what Ms. Lee claimed she needed, I slowly pulled her upright by her upper arm.

"No, I —" she whimpered.

Without speaking, I bent my beautiful teacher over the countertop, forcing her curvy ass outward as she braced herself with her hands.

"Qu'est que çe, Mademoiselle?" I teased her.

I reached down with my free hand and squeezed her bikini-covered ass, eliciting a moan of arousal. I slowly slid my hand downward until I felt the bulge that I'd noticed against my leg. I pushed against it, feeling it disappear inside her. She moaned again, her strong muscles involuntarily pushing it wantonly back out. I pushed twice more, watching with interest as Ms. Lee — hell, we were friends, right? — as Pam sank to her elbows, her breasts pressing against the countertop.

"Oh, God," she groaned.

"So what is this, Mademoiselle?" I asked.

"Please, I. . ." Pam was pleading with me.

"Tell me," I insisted.

"It's — it's a zucchini," she choked.

"A zucchini?" I chuckled. "And ou est la?"

"In my — my pussy!" Pam moaned as I kept teasing her by pushing against the vegetable.

"Have you been teasing this innocent little zucchini?" I smirked. "Like you tease all the guys in your French class?"

"I. . ., " the teacher whimpered.

"You're pretty hard on us, aren't you, you little French bitch?" I insisted.

"I'm sorry, oh God," Pam moaned.

"Maybe you should give the zucchini a blowjob first, to make up for teasing it," I suggested instead, pulling the crotch of Pam's bikini aside. The vegetable popped out and I slowly, tantalizingly, pulled it free and held it in front of my teacher's lips.

"Mmmmfffff, mmmmffff, mmmmffff," Pam groaned, opening her mouth and sucking her juices off as I slid the zucchini in and out. She groaned again when I pulled the zucchini away and once again brought it down to her dripping cunt. Slowly, I pushed it inside of her, pushing my middle finger in along side of it.

"Oh, shit!" moaned my pretty French teacher.

"Is that what the young romance language teacher really wants in her pussy?" I asked.

"No," Pam flushed.

"What does she want?" I asked her.

She knew the answer I wanted; we'd both seen the website last night.

"A big, fat, hard cock," she whimpered.

"You like big, fat, hard cocks, don't you Pam?" I demanded.

"Yesssss," she hissed. "Fuck me with your big cock, Terry!"

"Not yet, you little cockteaser," I answered, tossing the zucchini to the floor. He'd done his part. I let go of Pam's arms and tangled my fingers in her long, dark hair. Yanking her backward, I shoved her back to a squat position before me.

"Now take it out and suck it," I ordered.

Pam grabbed my swim suit with both hands and yanked it down to my knees, exposing my erect cock. Eagerly, she leaned forward and opened her mouth to take the head inside.

Is it big enough for you?" I teased.

"Mmm-hmmm," Pam growled around her mouthful.

"Is it fat enough for you?"

"Mmm-hmmm."

"Is it hard enough for you?"

"Mmm-hmmm," Pam agreed with enthusiasm.

Seeing my teacher squatting in front of me, her tits fully exposed in the cavernous cups of my mom's top while below them her pussy lips shone with wetness between her opened thighs, would by itself have been enough to make me come. But having her dark red lips wrapped around my cock for the second time today was just too much. Without warning, I blew my load down Ms. Lee's gullet, watching in stunned amazement as she gulped down one blast after another.

Finally, Pam pulled her mouth away and wiped off a bit of cum that had escaped her lips. Licking her finger clean, she looked up at me and smiled.

"Well, I guess we're even now, huh?" she asked. "I've done my teasing and you've done yours."

"I guess so."

"So now we'll get this big bad boy back to full strength and get down to some serious fucking," she said eagerly, giving my cock one last swipe with her tongue before she stood up.

We moved upstairs to my bedroom, where I watched in silent awe as Pam Lee danced in front of me to strip off the top and bottom of her bikini. Licking her lips, she lay back on my bed and spread her arms and legs, inviting me into her very core. I eagerly pulled my unbuttoned shirt off — I'd stepped out of my trunks after she blew me, leaving them on the floor of the kitchen — and crawled onto the bed between her thighs.

"Terry," she whined, reaching for me. "I need to suck him again."

"Not yet," I grinned. I remember another picture in the magazine, of her posed almost identically to the way she was displaying herself for me, with the caption, "This hot college twat wants your nice strong tongue inside it."

"Does your hot college twat want my nice, strong tongue inside it."

Pam froze in place, suddenly slapping her hands over her sex.

"That wasn't on the website," she said coldly.

I laughed.

"Do you honestly think that after I found that website, I wouldn't turn over heaven and earth to get the whole magazine?

"You little shit," she said, but she was smiling at me.

"Shut up, bitch, and take your hands away before I'm forced to tie them above your head."

"Oh, Terry," she whispered, her hands slowly tracing a path up her stomach, stopping only to knead her sensitive breasts and squeeze her nipples.

Navigating my way around my first pussy wasn't hard; I'd found a few maps on the internet before, and the more sensitive areas on Pam were marked with alarms, like when Pam screamed out "oh God, Terry," and grabbed my hair the first time I sucked her clit in between my pursed lips. Or when her thighs locked themselves around my head, cutting off all sound from the outside world, the first time that I pressed my fingers against the sides of her labia, forcing the inner lips to rise to my furiously working tongue.

I like to think I gave her as good a time as she'd given me, but it was nothing, for either of us, compared to the feeling we got when I slid my dick into her wet, grasping sheath.

"Oh, God, Terry, you're so fucking big," she moaned as her body convulsed beneath me.

"And you're so fucking tight," I grunted back at her as I pushed another inch inside.

As I suspected, she did indeed have powerful muscles there, and she'd learned to use them well in the ten or fifteen years since she'd first lost her cherry. I, on the other hand, lost mine that very instant, a fact that I had no intention of letting her know if I could possibly avoid it. And since she'd already made me cum twice that day, I thought I had a pretty good chance of keeping that a secret.

And I don't think she ever did catch on. Every time I felt her talented muscles begin to pull me to a climax, I would change the pace of my fucking, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, sometimes ramming her hard, sometimes just letting the tip of my cock play against her opening.

"Fuck, Terry," she screamed. "Just fucking fuck me!"

I kept a hard, steady pace for the next ten minutes, finally feeling my cock twitching at the same time she started shaking and sank the fingernails of both hands into my upper arms. When I rolled off her, we just lay there for ten more minutes, letting our bodies cool down.

Afterwards, she propped herself on an elbow and looked at me.

"I suppose since you have the magazine," she said, toying with my nipple, "that I'm going to pretty much have to do whatever you want until you graduate."

"I think so, madame," I smiled at her in the deepening twilight that suffused my room. "But I'll handle my own grades."

"I'll just have to handle everything else, right?" she smiled.

"That's true," I said.

"And you'll give me the pictures at the end of the year?" she asked.

"I'll give 'em to you now," I told her.

"No," she blew in my ear, "this way I get to pretend you're blackmailing me. I like it better that way."

"Then so do I," I agreed.

Fortunately, my folks weren't scheduled to get home until very late on Sunday evening, so we were able to smuggle Pam out of the neighborhood after dark that night. By then, of course, the sheets had been cleaned, the house had been aired out, and we'd eaten the shrimp. The zucchini we just threw out.

With my bike in the back seat of Pam's car, and Pam herself crouched down in the passenger seat, I slowly backed it out of the driveway.

"God," she said, when we were finally out on the main street. "I didn't think my legs could take that kind of position for much longer."

"Which position?" I asked. "Oh, the car. I get it."

"This is going to be a long year, isn't it, Terry Martin?" she laughed.

"Long and hard, Pam Lee," I said. "Long and hard. Why don't I pull over here and cycle home? Next weekend, right, or the pictures go to the school board."

"Yes, sir," she hung her head before lifting it and giving me a glorious smile. "I think you left some papers at my house. I'll remind your dad on Friday."

"And the school on Saturday," I said as I mounted my bike. "That'll be even more fun."

Chapter 4: The Accidental Dominant, Part One

"All right, you bitches, let's get to work."

I received no answer from the girls. That was as it should be. The less trouble they gave me, the less abuse they'd get. Because right now, as I pulled my gloves tightly onto my hands, I was ready to take the misery of the last week out on every single one of them in turn.

I honestly don't remember when I'd decided to name all of the gas-powered machines in Laura Stone's garage. I'd obviously been angry at something, and found that it was more fun to imagine Diane mowing the grass, and more fun to have Liza rototilling the soil. They all had names, oddly enough the same names as my mother and my aunts. Those would be my mother's older sisters. The rototiller was my favorite, because as far as I knew, my Aunt Liza hadn't come within twenty feet of any actual soil for her entire life. I had never been allowed to set foot in her house, because teenage boys were the living embodiment of dirt.

MarshAlien
MarshAlien
2,691 Followers