L.C.T.F. Ch. 06

'Helen, are you okay? Would you like a glass of water?'

'I'm fine, I just think I need to... take this a little more slowly.' Helen put her coat on.

Emma jiggled toward her, arms outstretched

'Hug?'

'Thanks, but you're covered in... in...' Helen waved a hand in the direction of Emma's bountiful bare chest, which was glistening with its generous fresh coating of translucent milky jism.

'Oh yes, sorry,' mumbled Emma, looking down at the lake of cum and seeing Helen's point.

The prim brunette thanked me, explained that she needed fresh air, and left, promising to be in touch to arrange the first lesson.

'That could have gone better,' said Emma as she wiped her tits dry with kitchen paper while I took care of the sticky mess all down her back.

We finished the lesson with a side-on titfuck, Emma kneeling by me next to the bed, deftly rubbing me to a second orgasm. She was clearly trying not to think about the previous lesson's indiscretion and avoided eye-contact throughout. I encouraged her to keep up the dirty tit-talk but her remarks, though pleasantly saucy, were half-hearted. I still managed to shoot an extraordinary wad all over her juicy tits, of course - it was impossible not to.

'Going to need a bit more enthusiasm, Emma,' I said as she mopped up the cum from between her breasts. 'Otherwise a sound titwank, well done.

Emma smiled at me, and the week's lesson was over.

That evening the phone rang. I was expecting it to be Helen, but it was an unfamiliar voice on the line.

'Is that Martin?'

'Speaking.'

'You don't know me, my name is Coralie St John. I hope you don't mind my calling on a Sunday evening. Your friend Jenny gave me your number, we met on a hen party last weekend.

'Ah, the one where you all had to wear red underwear.'

'Yes, that's the one. We noticed we were wearing the same size bra, and the conversation turned to breasts, and then the conversation turned to you. I think you might be in a position to help me out.'

'And how may I be of assistance?'

'I'm the sex education teacher at Stonemere Park Grammar School for Girls. I have a group of young ladies in their second year of A-levels who attend a sort of after-school club that I run, in which I instruct them in the ways of safe sex. They've grown from girls into women, and their blossoming physical characteristics are likely to make them easy targets for predatory men. Anyway I was telling Jenny how we'd covered subjects like fellatio, handjobs, and such and such, but that I was considering doing titfucking as a subject. And she said you give tuition?'

'I do,' I said. Where was this going, I wondered.

'Excellent. Well, the education board unfortunately hasn't provided any learning materials on this particular topic, and I wanted to show the girls a film, so I wondered if I might take advantage of your services in the coming week so that we might make an instructional film together, you and I.'

'You want to show your pupils a film... of your breasts being fucked?' School had certainly changed since my days. Or perhaps it had always been like that for girls.

'The alternative is pornography, of which I strongly disapprove, and I want to ensure that the resulting video is of sufficient educational value. We'll have to make sure my face isn't seen on film, of course.'

'Of course. I have all the facilities for making a film and I'm sure we'll be able to come up with something you can use in your class.'

'Splendid,' Miss St John said. 'I'll come to you. How is Wednesday?'

'Any time,' I said, and gave her my address.

'I'll head down to you when school finishes,' she said. 'Should be with you about seven o'clock, if that works for you. Will I need to bring anything?'

'Unless you have any specific items of clothing you wish to be wearing on screen, then just come as you are.'

Miss St John concluded the conversation. An interesting development, and it was good (and a little surprising) of Jenny to recommend me when she had seemed so dubious of the whole enterprise. I went onto Facebook to see if there were any pictures from the hen party Jenny had attended. There were indeed a few, and Coralie St John was tagged in the couple of the pictures, her eminently fuckable bosom straining at one of many red brassieres on show. She was curvaceous with a cute smile and dark wavy hair. This was going to be fun. I noted the appointment in my diary.

Helen texted to arrange a time for her first lesson, we agreed on Monday nights, and so the very next evening she showed up with a guilty smile. 'I'm sorry about last night,' she grimaced as I took her coat.

'Not at all, quite understandable, I'm sure it must have been a lot to take in.'

We drank tea.

'You ejaculated all over her back,' Helen said. 'I've never seen anything like it.'

'You will, you will,' I smiled. 'So: titfucking. Never done it?'

'No, nothing like it,' she said. 'I've only had one boyfriend, that didn't really work out because I could never really relax properly into the sex. I don't have a current partner, though I would like one.'

'Well, titfucking is a great way to gain confidence,' I said, 'and if not executed to completion makes great foreplay. Though the purpose of these lessons is to get you proficient enough so that you can make your partner orgasm, much as you saw me do between your friend Emma's breasts yesterday.'

'I'm very keen to learn,' Helen said with a brave smile. 'Would you like me to take my top off?'

'Yes please,' I said, cock stirring.

Helen placed her mug of tea on the floor, and stood. She was wearing thick woollen tights, a knee-length skirt, white blouse buttoned all the way up to her neck, and a frumpy brown buttoned cardigan which on anyone else would have looked terrible but on Helen's busty form looked incongruously sexy. She unbuttoned the cardigan, folded it neatly, and set it on the chair. The points of her breasts looked like they were trying to pull her blouse open, stress lines spanned between them, the cotton taut. Her hands moved to the top button, and she hesitated.

'It's OK, carry on,' I said.

She took a deep breath and undid the buttons one by one. She opened the blouse. Underneath it her breasts were securely fastened into a white pointy bra, which kept her breasts separate. No naughty cleavage for her.

'Tell me about your bra,' I said. 'It's nice.'

'Oh really you think so?' Helen folded her blouse and placed it neatly on top of the cardigan. 'It's a Triumph Doreen bra, in a size thirty-two double D. I find it rather dull, but can't bring myself to wear anything, you know, sexier.' She stood like that for a moment, feet together, back straight, in her skirt, tights and bra. 'Shall I take it off?'

I was desperate to see these tits. 'Yes please Helen,' I said.

She reached behind her with both hands and fumbled with the fastener. It came undone and her chest rose a little. This was promising. The cups hung unaided from her breasts as she teased the straps off her shoulders. 'I can't believe I'm doing this,' she said, and, with a deep breath, dropped the bra.

I nearly shot my load in my pants there and then.

Helen's breasts were the same shape as the bra cups. They were wide-based, extending from her lower rib cage to her collarbone, and from her armpits extending to where they met in the middle forming a gently sloping natural cleavage. The bra, much like Emma's, had actually been forcing the peaks of these conical marvels downward, and now, unconstrained, they had resumed their natural pouting uptilt. The heavy lower curves met with her torso at a perfect right angle. And her nipples were a vision of perfection, the areolae sized in wonderful proportion to her breasts, pale pink, slightly puffy, capped with soft nipples in a slightly more saturated hue of pink. She was scarlet-faced with nerves, and the blush spread to her chest.

'Are they... are they good enough?' she said helplessly.

I was speechless.

'They're not very bouncy I'm afraid,' she said. She hopped a little on the spot, her double-D-cups barely moved at their wide bases, only her nipples danced up and down a little. 'Which is fine normally, as it makes them less of a nuisance than they could be, especially given how big they are. But I worry it might make them less suitable for t-t-' she stumbled over the word. 'Titfucking'

'I'd like you to see something.' I stood, undid my belt, unzipped my jeans and dropped them to the floor. Beneath my tight boxer shorts my furiously erect cock was twitching and throbbing like a trapped animal.

'Oh my...' Helen's eyes widened.

'Could you kneel on the floor please, where you are?'

Helen did so, pulling her skirt up slightly over her knees.

With difficulty, I stretched the elasticated waistband of my boxer shorts down, freeing my cock which sprang out, swaying stiffly at a 45 degree angle, already slick and shiny with precum. Helen gasped at the sight, jumping a little, causing her breasts to do that delightful nipple-only jiggle again. Tucking the elastic under my balls I stepped out of my crumpled jeans and took a few steps toward Helen until my erection rested ever so gently in the soft open cleavage between her exquisitely-sculpted breasts.

Cum pumped out of my cock in an almost continuous torrent, unravelling in thick pumping strands. What began as a pearl necklace swiftly started knitting itself into a pearl sweater that expanded back down engulfing my own spunking shaft and spreading toward the pert summits of Helen's chest. It was that feeling of relief rather than pleasure again, of purging something long pent-up.

'Oh... my... good... Lord...' she gasped as she stared down at the coating of semen with which I was so generously clothing her naked chest.

Thinking I had finished cumming, I took a small gradual step back, stretching a thick mozzarella strand of jism between the tip of my cock and Helen's cleavage. But then, to both my surprise and Helen's, my balls pulsed yet again, my erection throbbed and two more final jets of creamy spunk erupted into the air, one landing gracefully on Helen's thickly tousled, dark brunette hair, the other draping itself artfully over her left spectacle lens and cheek.

'Wh-what just happened?' the prim, cum-coated young woman trembled.

'You just gave your first titfuck,' I said.

'But I didn't... I didn't do anything,' she said in continued surprise.

'I wanted to show you how much power you wield with those breasts, Helen,' I explained, grabbing a handful of tissues and handing them to the confused topless librarian, and wiping my own cock with a handful more. 'Your bust is truly stunning, it's a work of art. And, in essence, I orgasmed from simply looking at it.'

'I'd never really thought of them like that,' Helen said quietly, as she patted her beautiful tits dry, the thick wad of tissue paper quickly sodden with ejaculate.

'Well now's the time to start thinking of them differently. Your bosom is a powerful sexual tool, which we will explore together every week.'

'It's all rather overwhelming,' she said, 'but I will do my best.'

At my request Helen lay down on the floor. Her twin peaks pointed straight up in truly spectacular fashion.

'This is another position where you are required to do very little,' I explained, straddling the young woman on my knees, my semi-on dangling precariously over her stomach while she eyed it with concern. 'You simply need to keep your breasts together so I can insert myself between them, then I do all the fucking.'

Helen's small hands rose to the sides of her breasts, and she squeezed them together with difficulty, and the resulting cleavage, while tight, was not very deep. 'My breasts are so firm it's quite difficult to get them that close together,' she said. It looked spectacular, but surprisingly challenging from a titfucking point of view, especially as I had now got accustomed to the deep, snug cleavages of Emma and Rebekah devouring my meat. But, as it turned out, it made no difference anyway, for the second I rubbed my hard cock against what little cleavage there was, the sight alone tipped me over the edge yet again, and I was shooting spunk from the numb tip of my sore cock.

'Goodness, Martin!' Helen spluttered as jizz fell onto her face and into her open mouth as she made small exclamations of surprise. 'I wasn't ready!'

'Sorry,' I panted, 'I'm afraid I'm still getting used to how sexy your boobs are.'

A brief break for me to catch my breath and we headed to the bedroom. I lay down.

'I think I should now be able to remain hard enough for you to carry out a more extensive titfuck,' I said.

'OK,' she said. 'I can't tell if I've been doing it properly or not.'

'You're most of the way there just by having those phenomenal breasts in the first place,' I said.

Helen turned in on herself shyly.

'For this last exercise, I'd like you to stimulate my penis simply by rubbing your breasts over it.'

'Where should I go?' Helen looked me up and down.

'I would suggest you kneel here on the bed next to me, then lean forward and lower your bust onto my groin area.'

Helen, still in her skirt and tights, clambered onto the bed with as much poise as the situation would allow. She looked truly stunning. Her features were angular but petite, her neck long and slim. Amazing tits always made me see girls prettier than they were, and I couldn't tell whether she was really beautiful or I was allowing her tits to trick me. Either way I was very, very happy she had come to me for lessons.

As I had instructed, she leaned forward until the pointy tips of her excellent breasts made contact, one with the end of my tender cock, the other with my testicles. It looked and felt fantastic. 'Like this?' she said with a pained glance in my direction.

'Yes, good start,' I said. 'Now just grind them against my groin, back and forth, round in circles... improvise.'

Her arms tightly by her sides, Helen started to mash her firm double-D's into my midriff, my cock snaking among them, slowly returning to a fully erect state.

'Tell me what you can feel,' I said.

'I can feel that your penis is getting hard again,' she said, her shoulders gyrating as she slid her perky naked tits all over my cock and balls. 'Should I be bracing myself for another explosion?'

'You've made me orgasm twice in the space of half an hour,' I said, 'I think this time I should last a little longer. Plus my view of your breasts is more restricted from this angle.'

'Is that a good thing or a bad thing?'

'It means I'm not being overstimulated,' I explained, 'so the experience should last a littler longer this time.'

'But am I not supposed to be making you ejaculate?' Helen pointed out.

'You will, you will,' I groaned, as I felt a distant orgasm build in my loins.

'I can feel you getting stiffer,' she said, nudging my erection roughly around with her breasts, a hard nipple jabbing me in the balls. 'And it's getting more slippery.' Pre-cum was indeed providing increasing levels of lubrication, and soon the experience was getting more akin to a sponge bath.

'Helen I'm going to cum,' I announced.

'Should I stop? What do I do?'

'Carry on as you are,' I said, then groaned in slow agony as I pumped the evening's third helping of jism all over her dangling breasts and arm.

Finally I told her she could stop, and she straightened slowly. 'It's tough on your back, this, isn't it.' She arched her back and circled her shoulders around, thrusting her breasts out even further. I suddenly realised I had forgotten to film the session.

Still, there was always next week.