Latina Granny Ch. 06

"Oh . . . Peter!" I began as I rose and made my way toward him, "I believe each of you ought to become an upright and responsible young man. And that includes you."

I smiled down at him in his deck chair, carefully lifted the computer from his lap, set it softly on the deck beside him and then proceeded to curl up in his lap. I did my best to make my movements as graceful and brash as I possibly could. After all, I had to consider what Garth and Evan would be witnessing as well.

When I was finished settling in comfortably upon his thighs, my arm was curled around his neck, my legs were crossed daintily, our faces were cheek-to-cheek and - if I wasn't mistaken, my right nipple had just escaped from its hot pink little nesting place. My big brown nipples can be so adventurous and cause so much trouble sometimes.

My bold move had taken all three young men by surprise. Peter was frozen in shock beneath me for the moment. I heard Garth's book fall to the deck beside me and assumed he was gawking. I couldn't see Evan from where I sat but guessed he was enjoying the sight of my almost bare backside nestled in Peter's lap.

"Are you going to do your very best on the test tomorrow?" I asked. I was tracing a soft, slow path across Peter's ear by now and doing everything in my power to drive him to distraction. Yes, I know I was being a shameless tease, but it was so much fun - and it really was a part of my plan.

"Um . . . Um . . . I um . . " Peter stuttered and then stopped, too distracted and too aroused to finish his thought.

"Oh! My!" I squealed and shifted slightly in his lap, "You're well on your way to becoming upright!"

Something very large and very hard was pressing into my bottom now. Peter was entirely flummoxed. His body tensed beneath me and I shifted a bit more to relieve some of the pressure. After all, I didn't want to break his cock. His young, hardened steel was definitely a part of my plan - but not until he had aced his test.

"Why Peter! I believe you want to be an upright and responsible man!" I cooed in his ear. I gently placed his hand on my thigh just at my knee to give him something to hold onto. He definitely needed something to hold onto.

"Do you know what it takes to become upright and responsible?"

He shook his head from side to side slowly. I wasn't certain if I'd frightened him but it didn't matter.

"You have to set goals and then you have to meet them for starters. You could set goals for your test tomorrow," I purred softly in his ear. I knew it was critical that I go slowly now. Peter had that whole lack of blood flow to the brain problem going on now and it was important he take all my words in.

"Goals?" he asked vaguely.

"Yes. Goals," I repeated and after a pause added, "You see, if you set a goal of say - getting an 'A' on your test then other people . . . like perhaps me . . . might reward all your hard work."

For emphasis I shifted my hip softly against that painful lump in his lap, "You do want to be rewarded for all your hard work, don't you?"

I had to let that sink in a minute but Peter did finally respond, groaning out a solid, "Ye-s-s-s!"

"Good! And you know what you must do . . ." I replied, my voice trailing off in hopes of hearing his answer.

"What do you need to do, Peter?" I prompted when he didn't answer.

"Study?" he asked sheepishly.

"Oh, yes." I answered excitedly, "Studying is the upright and responsible thing to do!"

My fingers were still teasing his ear and neck. With my free hand I began to stroke Peter's chest. He let out a slow, soft murmur and I began to worry that I might just have overdone my task of encouraging my young student. I didn't want to embarrass him by creating a big old gooey wet spot in his shorts in front of his frat brothers. I was secretly hoping too that he would save all that delicious, manly seed for tomorrow. I had a couple of places in mind where he could put it and do me an awful lot of good.

"You will study for me, won't you Peter?" I asked, pouting a little and frowning to show my concern.

Peter began to bob his head up and down like a bobble-head doll on steroids.

I slipped my fingers under his chin to stop him before he shook something loose and purred, "Good boy. Good boy!"

I stood then, taking my time about it and trying to be as graceful as a sixty-one year-old grandma in a hot pink string bikini can be. When I was on my feet again I stood over Peter, looked down and pretended to discover my wayward nipple for the first time. "Peter, would you be a dear and slip my breast back where it belongs."

He fumbled wildly, his fingers shook and I worried he might actually be too rough but soon enough he had slipped my nipple back inside its hot pink home. He even smoothed the material over it but nothing he tried would tame my excited nipple.

"I think it's time to study, Peter! You have a Trigonometry test to study for," I reminded him, before sprawling out on my beach towel once more. Both of my wayward nipples slipped out of my bikini then and I decided they deserved their time in the sun as well. Garth, Peter and Evan didn't seem to mind.

The next afternoon would be coming none too soon for Peter, I was certain. He was anxiously typing on the keyboard of his laptop and intermittently keying in numbers on a silly-looking scientific calculator he had started carrying with him everywhere he went. I smiled and looked forward to encouraging him to become upright and responsible tomorrow. My plan was working.

"Ninety-nine percent!" he shouted happily just after lunchtime the next day.

"Ooh, congratulations, Peter. I guess you're in line for a big reward then," I told him, "When would you like me to reward you?"

"Now!"

Peter caught me as I was entering more assignment and grade information for the guys into my laptop. I decided I had put Peter off and frustrated him in so many ways these past few weeks that another delay from me would have added injury to insult. I decided it was the reasonable - the merciful thing to reward young Peter now. He looked so eager and his plight seemed so urgent that I just couldn't refuse him any longer.

"This way, young man," I told him and took him by the hand to my room.

Once there, I shut the door behind us, gave him a soft, tongue-filled kiss that left us both a little out of breath. I slithered down his chest and belly until I was on my knees at his feet and slowly unbuckled his cargo shorts, tugged them to the floor and then paused, my fingers poised at the waistband of his jockey shorts as I looked up coyly into his eyes.

"God, but you look so beautiful and sexy wearing those glasses, Febe!" Peter bubbled.

I use glasses for reading and I'd forgotten I even had them on. They were just an old pair of cheap dime-store readers. "Would you like me to leave them on, Peter?" I asked.

"Oh, yes! Would you please, Febe?"

I didn't have his underwear down yet and he was making a big tent in them. He was making my job a bit more difficult, but I didn't mind. At least he appreciated my efforts.

Peter's cock was lovely. I don't often use a word like 'lovely' to describe a young, virile stud's sex machinery but Peter had been endowed with a most beautiful and manly piece of equipment. It wasn't huge but it wasn't average in either length or girth by any means. It was just - well, lovely to look at and it gave me all sorts of naughty, delicious thoughts. It was straight as an arrow, had sharp, rippling veins running the full length its shaft and it was showing lots of interest in me. At least, that's what I thought from the way it throbbed and danced and stared back at me from where I knelt a few inches away.

I kissed it. It was only a little peck on the tip of it but I slipped my tongue down along its underside briefly - just to be friendly, of course. Peter's cock turned out to be very friendly and I decided to kiss it again. This time I decided to be even friendlier.

Before long we were close friends and getting ever so intimate. My mouth, my lips, my tongue all seemed to be so perfectly attuned to this lovely cock and its needs that I couldn't help but do everything in my power to please Peter's gorgeous, glorious sex pistol.

As I look back now on all those years I spent avoiding and even fearing oral sex, I regret putting up with that boyfriend from my teen years for as long as I did. Taking a man's cock into my mouth gives me such a feeling of control and power now! And judging by the response I was getting from Peter I was getting pretty good at it.

"Don't force me down on it!" I cautioned him once when he got a little too eager and began to push at the back of my head. Once I got that message across I resumed building my relationship with his lovely dick. It didn't take long for me to have it dripping with my spit. I have discovered that sucking on a cock makes me drool. The lovelier the cock, the more I seem to drool and I was drooling a lot right now. Peter's balls were positively dripping by the time I managed to work his entire wonderful sex pistol into my throat.

"Un-n-gh!" I heard him groan the first time I rubbed my nose into his belly hair. He certainly liked that.

I repeated this little deepthroat treat a couple more times, then withdrew his cock, looked up into his dreamy, distracted eyes and told him, "Peter, you've been a very good student and you've done everything I've asked. You have earned this reward, young man! Mmm! Such a lovely cock!"

With that said, I licked the underside of his wonderful manhood from his ball sack up to the very tip ever so slowly before gobbling its full length once more and nestling my nose into his curly pubic hair again. What followed became, for me, an exercise in the most delicious of tortures. I decided that as much as I had delayed and tortured and frustrated him in the past couple of weeks, Peter needed to be shown that delays and taking a slow, almost agonizing approach to sexual release was sometimes the best way. I wanted him to know that deep down I was giving him the most thorough, most thoughtful of rewards by taking my time and keeping him on the very brink of complete pleasure for just as long as I possibly could. I was positive he would happily thank me for this lesson in patience when I finally drew the very last bit of his seed from him.

Still kneeling before him as he stood beside my bed and with my hands cupping his balls I settled into a slow, methodical up-and-down pace over the entire length of his cock. I paced myself, making sure to breathe deeply when my mouth was not stuffed with his sloppy-wet manhood. It did not take long to bring him to the very brink of his climax. I could feel his balls beginning to contract. That was exactly when I paused, extracted his cock and drew my nails slowly up his scrotum.

"Are you enjoying this Peter?" I asked with a teasing smile.

"Shit!" he snapped back.

His body had stiffened but his cock began to relax now that it wasn't snuggled in the comfort of my throat.

"O-o-h-h . . . You didn't think I was going to let you get off that easy, did you?"

He was gasping now, his body eager for the release I was denying him. He might have screamed if he had known I was just getting started.

I took him into my mouth once again, going deep almost immediately, pausing until I needed to come up for air and then pulling back until I could draw a big breath. My eyes were already watering and my mascara was a mess but when I gazed up into Peter's eyes I got the distinct impression he wasn't at all bothered by my messy makeup. I think he rather liked my messy, teary eyes behind my cheap glasses.

"I want to cum in your throat Febe! I want to spray your face. . . O-w-w-w but I want to cum soon, Febe! Soon!" he chattered out in a fevered voice.

I was too busy using my mouth to perform this slow fuck of his joystick to tell him how much I wanted all of that too. I was going to give him all he wanted and more but I expected he would beg for his release long before I would grant it.

Please don't think I was being mean. Peter was the most deserving young stud living in the house with me. He had cleaned himself up, studied hard and earned everything I was about to give him. I wasn't being nasty or miserly. I wanted my young charge to know exactly what he was capable of. I wanted to reward him with everything I could offer.

Mindful that I was gobbling the knob of an already excited nineteen year-old, I proceeded with caution, on the alert for even the smallest signs of Peter's overexcitement and any premature eruption before I felt he had been sufficiently rewarded. I moved slowly over the length of his poker, alternating between full-on plunges and playful swabs that pulled at the lovely head and then slipped playfully away. When he would begin to overheat and approached his eruption point I would withdraw my mouth, slip my fingers tightly around his shaft at the base, gaze playfully into his eyes and begin to talk directly to him. I was tormenting him, I know, but goodness, was he ever excited!

My prowess as a sucker of cocks was improving by leaps and bounds. I just knew I would blow Larry's mind when we met at homecoming. I was so high on myself right now that I truly believed I would be able to breathe cock by then.

Several minutes had passed by now and Peter had become a quivering mess of a young stud. He was muttering strings of nonsense under his breath and his entire body trembled each time I tickled my throat with that lovely cockhead of his. When his knees began to wobble I knew we were nearing the climax of his reward.

"Sit down Peter before you fall down!" I ordered after averting yet another premature disaster by withdrawing his throbbing cock from deep in my throat. I helped him along with a gentle push.

"Oh!" he gasped when he bounced softly onto the bed. "Cum now, Febe? Please-please-please-please! Cum Febe?" the poor boy pleaded.

I really had done a thorough job, I decided. I might have gone on for another minute or two but my jaws were sore and - odd as this may sound - my throat was getting a little sore from all that lovely cock slipping in and out of it. The time had come for Peter to show me what he was made of.

"Brace yourself, Peter!" I warned with a devilish grin, "It's gonna be a bumpy ride from here on out!"

I kissed his cock softly, just as I had at the start of this intimate little honors banquet. I smiled up at him once more, cupped his balls warmly and proceeded to swallow his sweet bone whole. Peter threw his head back and resumed his nonsensical mumbling. I twisted my head from side to side, tunneled my nose into his curly pubic hair until I was nuzzling into his belly at the base of his lovely manhood and waited. I knew from experience that no man could resist this kind of attention and I was right.

Peter exploded with a shrill scream. His balls knotted up in my palm and his seed began to boil out of him. My throat strained as that first explosion raced through his cock. For an instant I imagined I could feel his first volley strike me in the pit of my stomach like a bullet but then I realized it was only the reaction of my body to the combination of Peter's scream, the sudden stretching of my throat and the pressure caused by the hard bump of his belly against my nose.

I struggled to extract his cock from my throat. Suddenly, I needed to breathe! I pushed myself off of the big fire hose trapped in my throat. I had hoped to get his cock out of my throat and into the hollow of my mouth but, like the cork in a wine bottle, it popped all of the way out with exactly the same sound a cork makes.

I found myself staring a one-eyed, blood-engorged, fire breathing dragon in the eye. That one-eyed dragon proceeded to spit the hottest, most delicious tasting cream into my face. It struck me across the tip of my nose in a long, potent blast that caught me by surprise and splattered everywhere. It was like a bomb had gone off.

"Oh!" I gasped, frozen there on my knees with the second of Peter's raging blasts spreading over me.

His serpent contracted suddenly, as if taking a deep breath, before exhaling another blast of sweet-hot flaming man-lava. The flames first struck my nose and then streamed upward. He would have blinded me had it not been for my glasses. After this blast I had the presence of mind to grasp his cock and at least try to aim this fire-breathing monster where it would wreak the least amount of havoc. Too late, I only succeeded in steadying its aim for the next blast. My other eye took the brunt of the dragon's wrath this time. Thank god for my glasses!

Peter's lovely cock continued on its rampage. I made an ill-advised lunge at it with my open mouth hoping to recapture his cock but failed miserably. His one-eyed dragon had painted my glasses and blinded me. I was peering through streaks and dripping gobs of his goo and all I could do for the moment was allow him the satisfaction of painting my face from ear to ear, chin to forehead.

This mess was all my own fault, I know. I had teased and tormented Peter mercilessly for far longer than I should have. I should have known that any young stud who survives the extended amount of loving torture I had just put poor Peter through was going to have buckets of hot cum to jettison when his time came. Peter's time had certainly come - and I was the unsuspecting beneficiary of all his pent-up lust and stimulation. I wondered for a split-second if perhaps I had done too good a job at rewarding him, but when I finally caught my breath and tried peering through the thick cum dripping off my glasses, gave up finally and removed them, I looked up to find Peter gazing contentedly, reverently down at me and I knew immediately that Peter's reward was complete.

"Febe! . . . Oh!" was all he could manage for the moment. He was still out of breath.

He gasped a bit more, straightened himself up and excitedly blurted out, "Febe, can you wear those glasses all the time?"

Right now, all I wanted to do with these glasses was send them off to a toxic dump site or at the very least soak them in bleach and then run them through the dishwasher! His question and his excitement baffled me. As I scooped up a cooling gob of his splooge (I love my new vocabulary word!) from my eyebrow I began to suspect Peter found my glasses exciting and even more exciting when he could paint them with his goodies.

"So you like it when I wear glasses?"

"I think you look . . . sexy in them," he told me.

"Do you think the rest of your brothers might think I look sexy in them too?"

This caught him by surprise. He thought for a minute and replied, "I don't know. Maybe you should ask them."

"Better still. Pass the word along to all your brothers that if they want me to wear glasses they need to ask me themselves."

Peter's face lit up and he smiled. I suddenly had a hunch I'd better find a good, quick way to clean these dime-store readers because I might just be wearing them as safety goggles from now on.

The summer term seemed to be flying by. My supervision methods were most definitely succeeding but I didn't really begin to appreciate the tremendous impact my set of rules and rewards were having on my Row Boats until somewhere near the end of our third week. Three significant events took place that week that showed me I was indeed making a huge difference in these young men's lives.

First, Stan showed me how to add onto my spreadsheet so that I could consolidate and track everyone's grades at once. Until he showed me the bottom line numbers I hadn't realized just how well they were all doing. Between all six of the Row Boats, there was only one B+ grade and everyone else was getting an A! Stan showed me all this a few minutes after he deposited a rich, creamy load of his seed in my pussy. Like most of the Row Boats this summer he was a virgin. Goodness but I do enjoy virgins! In addition to being so . . . so resilient they're always so grateful. I do believe Stan helped with my grade sheets because he was so grateful and so thrilled by his own performance. He did show a great amount of control and he did manage to bring me to orgasm twice before he froze deep inside me, wheezed and began to unleash all his power like a jackhammer. Goodness, but he certainly had a lot of pent-up gratitude in him!