A Very Spunky Lady

When he was done she let the panties snap shut and she closed her thighs, squeezing them together to feel the cum ooze deeper into and out from her panties. She was getting so fucking excited. She reached down to diddle herself through the cum soaked undies, the eyes of the boys opening wider in shock at the sight of Marilyn brazenly diddling her clit right in front of them. "Okay," she gasped, the level of her own excitement clearly evident in her voice, "who's next?"

Ron immediately stepped forward as he really didn't think he could last a second longer, and just as quickly began to squirt and spurt his load onto the previously soaked face of Marilyn, her breasts heaving with her lust, her fingers working hard on her panty soaked clit.

Doug's and Harold's erections were returning. The whole thing was getting really out of control. What could be more obscene than a girl having a guy shoot his load all over her face, which was already deluged with spunk, while she masturbated herself through her cum filled panties? Well, perhaps there are things much more crude than this, but it was plenty profane enough for the boys to get aroused once again. They even wondered if perhaps they could work up another load quickly enough to have a further shot at her face.

Marilyn though could feel herself getting pretty darned close. It was just so terribly sexy to feel one load after another splashing against her face while she diddled herself through her cream pantie pie. It was a pure spunky delight.

She leaned back farther, bracing herself on the floor with her left hand while she worked harder on her clit with her right. Her nostrils were filled, if not literally soaked, with the scent of fresh cum. She breathed in deep the masculine cologne and whimpered with lust as her pelvis squirmed in its lustful dance.

The boys could now readily see Marilyn's nipples through her brassiere, as it was soaked with cum. None of them had yet been to a wet t-shirt contest, but they couldn't imagine that it would be better than a cum-soaked brassiere.

Allen did not wait for the final invitation, stepping forward when it appeared that Ron was finishing.

That was fine with Marilyn. She wasn't sure she had the wherewithal, the capability, to further direct the boys. She didn't even feel she had the use of her left eye anymore. But, she did at least notice, by the diminishing load of Ron being accompanied by a fresh, hard blast of another that Allen must have stepped forward, and she quickly opened her mouth as wide as it would go.

That was all the direction that Allen needed and he aimed his remaining shots into Marilyn's receptive mouth.

At the feel of the full splat against her tongue Marilyn also found herself going over the edge. "Ohhhhh," she groaned from deep within her throat, although careful to keep her mouth open to continue receiving the gism libation as her body was wracked by the waves of her climax coursing through her body.

The boys watched in wonder at the sight of Marilyn trembling and twitching on her knees, her pelvis thrusting and humping her fingers with her climactic orgasm, her face and mouth flooded with cum.

"Mr. Fischer!" Allen shouted, as the final squirts were squirting into Marilyn's mouth.

"What?" Marilyn asked, not being able to look for herself, her boy and mind wracked by her climax, her eyes covered and coated with cum. She just continued to quiver and quake with such passion and pleasure.

It was Mr. Robert Fischer, the chess coach.

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"That's it?" Dr. Lowenstein asked, rather surprised.

"Well, yes," Marilyn replied.

Dr. Lowenstein shook her head. It was so disappointing to witness yet again such antiquated attitudes among the faculty at Templeton. When will this college enter the 21st century? "He was upset about this?"

"Well, yes," Marilyn again replied.

"Did he explain to you why he was upset?"

"Well, I guess because I let all the guys cum on my face."

"Did you lose the next tournament?"

"No, we won, although I did lose my match."

"You apparently didn't invite him."

The doctor was right about that. Marilyn hadn't. She had just asked her teammates. He had apparently found out about the meeting from Robert. Marilyn asked, "You think that's what he was upset about?"

"He felt left out, neglected, and yet he was the coach."

"You think that's it?"

"Absolutely. I'll give him a call, let him know you're coming over to apologize. Everything should be just fine."

And, not surprisingly, Dr. Lowenstein was right. It did though first require a personal visit with Mr. Fischer by Dr. Lowenstein, just to smooth things over.

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I hope you enjoyed it! I do request that you take the time to vote (particularly if you liked it!), and I am certainly very open to feedback and suggestions.