Miss Pepperidge Ch. 02

"Yes, ma'am?" Tracy inquired.

"Tracy, you've been an amazingly good girl tonight, I want to thank you," Miss Pepperidge said earnestly. "I hope to do that later. But right now, I need to ask a favor of you. One of those businessmen, Mr. Jeremy Johnson, might come around looking for me. If he does, can you keep him outside and out of sight until I'm done with Mr. Stratton?"

"Oh, yes, Miss Pepperidge, I'll be happy to," Tracy responded in typical Tracy fashion. If she could do anything for her professors, she would always be willing. In this case, Miss Pepperidge wasn't really her professor but Tracy wasn't going to be fussy. It had been such fun thus far helping Miss Pepperidge with the Method and with those jerks in mall security uniforms. And to receive actual praise from a professor! It couldn't get any better than that.

"Thank you, Tracy, I so appreciate it. Don't let him take advantage of you, though. You can stay close to my door, if you want. Then if you need my help, just cry out and I'll be there. But if you decide to play with him, don't let him cum. I think he'll enjoy it if we apply a little of the Method to him, at least the frustration part."

"Yes, Miss Pepperidge," Tracy acknowledged eagerly. "If he shows up, I'll make sure he's here and ready when you're ready." What a wonderful opportunity. How often did a professor, even a visiting professor, entrust such an important and personal task to a student? But Tracy would show her. If that businessman showed up, Tracy would make sure that he stayed, happily, to participate in whatever Miss Pepperidge had planned. Miss Pepperidge would be so proud of her.

Miss Pepperidge walked to one of the beds and pulled the covers open. She removed her shoes and blouse, then her skirt, carefully preserving what little cum remained on her skirt. Even with such a short drive from the mall, little remained as fluid as she would have liked. She rubbed it sensuously into her skin, luxuriating in the slick feeling with her eyes closed.

"I think you're supposed to be bent over the desk," Mr. Stratton ordered. He had just emerged from the bathroom and was ready to take charge, playing the role he had enjoyed so much earlier in the evening.

"Yes, sir," Miss Pepperidge agreed with a smile. Without another word, she leaned over the desk, exposing her magnificent backside to the window and the door. She rested her big boobs on the desk, enjoying the slick feeling as she slid them back and forth. That was another place she wished for fresh cum, but all of that had dried. Still it felt good to rub her breasts on the smooth surface of the desk.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

"Yes, Eric, give it to me good!" Miss Pepperidge cried out happily. She wriggled her butt as though evading his strokes but actually enticing him to spank more.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Mr. Stratton gave her full whacks, making them sting just as much as he could. He hadn't spanked anyone, or at least any adult women, ever in his life. Wouldn't they object? Wouldn't they think he was strange if he wanted to do any such thing? But Miss Pepperidge was clearly different. She not only tolerated it, she asked for it. By her reactions, she loved it. And it was such a thrill to see her bent over, her magnificent ass exposed for him and anyone who might walk by, eager for his touch, his spanking. And this time he would fuck her, right in front of the open window and open door.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Damn, this was good! He took a rest from spanking her to finger her pussy. What had that businessman done? It was something with her clit but he didn't rub, he squeezed. Mr. Stratton tried the touch, finding her clit and squeezing it, then rolling it between his fingers.

"Yes, Eric, that's wonderful!" Miss Pepperidge encouraged him.

He abandoned her clit, focusing his attention instead on her labia, softly touching and stroking. If she wanted frustration, that's what she would get. She liked having her clit pinched and rolled. He'd give her some of that from time to time but not to the point she could get any satisfaction from it, at least not yet. Her groan of disappointment told him he was on the right track. He moistened his fingers in her pussy and drew them up between her ass cheeks. Her rosebud puckered as though trying to suck his finger in. Yes, that would torment her, too.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

He removed his hands completely from her body and slowly started to undress. He wasn't in any hurry. This was royal payback for all the girls who had teased him in his youth, withholding their favors and leaving him with blue balls. That hadn't happened since his penis achieved its full size. Well, it hadn't happened until he encountered the Method. Those schoolgirls had a real gift for getting him excited and stopping his ejaculation.

"What are you doing, Eric?" Miss Pepperidge asked tentatively. She turned her head and saw him remove the last of his clothing. His boner stood proudly out from his body and she licked her lips in anticipation. If only he would get to it.

Tracy peered at Miss Pepperidge's backside, her exposed and wet, open pussy, her puckered rosebud. Specifically, her pussy was fascinating. Tracy didn't know if her own cunnie had ever opened like that, but she hadn't had a good view when she masturbated. Still, thinking about how it had felt when she touched it, she didn't think hers opened like that. Could it be the difference in experience? Could it be that Miss Pepperidge liked sex more than anyone else? How would she ever find out?

Mr. Stratton took a leisurely stroll to stand beside Miss Pepperidge's incredibly shapely ass. He touched it gently, softly, caressing her delightful skin. Before this trip, he never imagined that he could do such a thing. Even when they were selected to participate in the inter-campus liaison, he had only vague fantasies that the beautiful Miss Pepperidge would have any interest in him. His was the approach to avoid all possibilities of bad results. So he would never make the first move, would never make overtures that might face possible rejection. But his penis, that eagerly invasive tool, stuck up its head at the most inopportune moment, or maybe the most opportune moment. The students who saw and called attention to the bulge in his pants had done him a favor like no one ever before. And now, here he was, touching, spanking, fondling, and soon fucking the beautiful, magnificent Miss Pepperidge, the young professor who had more fantasies in her honor than any other faculty member at Longwood College.

Tracy, standing in the shadows just outside the room, where she could both watch inside and notice if someone approached, saw a businessman walking the motel grounds. This room, uniquely, had tall bushes just outside the door and Tracy was able to stand there without any concern about being seen. As he walked though pools of light from the various yard lights, she saw the man look around intently. She remained in the shadows. Nothing was necessary if it was the wrong person. And even then, nothing was necessary unless he tried to enter the room prematurely or tried to leave the vicinity before Miss Pepperidge had seen him.

Ah, there. A room ahead spilled light over the grassy area, from both the window and the door. That wonderful creature, Mandy Pepperidge, had told Mr. Johnson to look for her. Could she have made it this easy? He had been disturbed when she suggested that he look for her instead of giving him her room number. He had been almost all the way around the motel, peering intently into corners, shadows, little gaps between curtains in rooms, all for a chance glimpse that would tell him where she was. Granted, he hadn't waited long to start his search after returning to the motel. But he felt the pressure building, the desire. It would be a frustrating evening if he couldn't see her again. Well, maybe just partly frustrating, because the encounter in the mall was nothing short of amazing.

He walked directly toward the light, slowing to peek carefully into the edge of the window. This was the place, and obviously so! There she was, on glorious display, her magnificent ass prominently visible as she was bent over a desk with her head away from the window. The stirring in his pants was immediate. Her labia looked wet and were open, inviting, as though eager for his hardness. And she was squirming, as though eager for attention, and looking around. Was she looking for him?

His hand found its own way to his bulge. As he became aware of stroking himself, he unzipped his trousers and reached inside to pull out his tool, his eagerly playful prick. Its hardness made for a struggle but he managed to get it out and into his practiced hand. Hard-on in hand, he walked quickly toward the door, only to be confronted by a girl, actually a young woman, blocking his path.

Tracy stepped out of the shadows and put a hand out to signal the businessman to stop. "Are you Mr. Jeremy Johnson?" she asked. She hoped he was. She didn't relish the idea of having to manage an unexpected visitor with his boner in hand.

"Yes, I am," Mr. Johnson acknowledged. "How did you know that?" In his shock at being addressed by name, he didn't even remember that he held a handful of eminently displayed desire.

"You can't go in, yet," she admonished. "Miss Pepperidge asked me to keep you outside until she was ready for you." What would she do if he didn't stop, if he tried to push past her? She tried to look as authoritative as she could. Fortunately, he stopped.

"Why not, she's ready for me," he countered indignantly, even thoughtlessly. Well, it wasn't quite thoughtless, it was just that his dominant mind at the moment was in his hand, not in his head. He gestured with his other hand toward the window where Miss Pepperidge was so magnificently on display.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

The sounds of spanking shot through Mr. Johnson's head like a sudden glare of light to someone trying to hide in shadows. His head jerked around with the shock, peering into the door of the room. Mr. Stratton was again spanking her! Was that all he ever did?

Mr. Stratton had given up on frustrating Miss Pepperidge by withholding his attentions. It would have worked, but it would also have frustrated him. He wanted to be actively involved in this scene. He fondled her cunnie, stroking her lovely lower lips, then again tweaked and rolled her clit. He pressed fingers inside and marveled at the luxurious feeling he found there. With his other hand, he reached to touch the side of her breast.

Miss Pepperidge raised herself to give him better access to her breasts. They still rested on the desk but he was able to slide his fingers underneath and discover her nipple. He pinched and stroked that sensitive nub at the same time as he pinched and stroked her clit. That was what she needed. She sighed in pleasure at the double touch, then groaned when he removed his hand from her breast.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"You can't go in, yet," Tracy repeated in a low voice. "Come over here, into the shadows, and wait until she's ready for you." Tracy wasn't at all sure about this, she didn't know anything about Mr. Johnson and how he might interpret her invitation. Still, it seemed clear that Miss Pepperidge didn't want to be interrupted while she was with Mr. Stratton. And Miss Pepperidge was right there, in case Tracy ran into trouble. It wasn't like she was in a pillory or anything. She stepped back to reinforce her invitation.

This was really weird. Here he was, standing outside a motel room with his tool in his hand, looking into a room at a gorgeous woman's ass being spanked by a naked man with a huge erection, being invited into the shadows by a fully dressed girl who looked like she might attend the local college. "What shall I do with this?" he asked, glancing down at his hard-on. He still wasn't thinking with the brain in his head.

"I'll hold that for you and keep it safe," Tracy offered in a low voice, reaching with her slender hand to almost, but not quite, touch his hard-on. Maybe if she took charge, he wouldn't get any ideas and try to take advantage of her. That seemed a good idea, particularly since the exposed shaft looked quite nice. It wasn't as big as Mr. Stratton's but it was definitely hard, and eager.

Mr. Johnson removed his hand from his prick and stepped forward, like a puppet whose string was his shaft. The delicate touch of the girl's slender hand was so cool and refreshing that he momentarily forgot his intention to run into the motel room and plunge his hard-on into the goddess' grotto. Would this girl provide him the release he wanted? She appeared quite innocent, in spite of her comfortable grip on his manhood, and might have a tight little pussy. Or maybe she would suck him off. That would be good. However, she pulled him a little more into the shadows and turned him to face the door. He could clearly see the man fondling the cunnie, tweaking the clit and stuffing fingers into the pussy that was still so excitingly on display.

"What's going on here?" Mr. Johnson asked. "Is she some kind of hooker, taking on the fantasies of multiple guys? Or is she a spanking addict?"

Tracy laughed. "Oh, no, you're way wrong. She's a professor, studying the influences of pain, frustration, surprise and delayed gratification on the human orgasm." She was so proud of herself, coming up with that description for Miss Pepperidge's work. This version sounded ever so much better than an attempt to have Miss Pepperidge experience humiliation. Just as Tracy was prone to use flowery descriptions for her own efforts, she applied the same skill to the current situation. Sometimes, big words helped to get things done. Tracy couldn't leave him with the impression that the renowned Miss Pepperidge was a hooker, that would just be wrong. And she had to give him a reason to believe he should take his turn willingly.

"And who's Eric, the guy she's with?" Mr. Johnson questioned further. What kind of school were these people involved with? He always thought of research studies being done in sterile hospital or lab settings, not in motel rooms with the curtains and doors open. "Is he her subject? No, that can't be, she'd be spanking him if that were the case. Are you sure he's not a John and she's not a whore?"

"Shame on you," Tracy admonished. "Mr. Eric Stratton is a colleague of hers, helping with the study. In fact, he'll be branching out to a different area after they complete the initial collaboration." Once she established the basis, it was easy to embellish the story and make it completely plausible. It wasn't like she was lying, she just didn't know the official story. But Mr. Stratton and Miss Pepperidge had viewed classroom demonstrations of the Method and followed up with their own explorations, so she couldn't be far wrong.

"And what are you doing here?" he seemed to want all the details.

"I'm Tracy Flick and I'm just the lead student assistant for the study," Tracy couldn't resist bragging a little, even as she made it sound self-deprecating. After all, she really was the leader of the students, wasn't she? And that was so much fun. "Do you think you'd like to take part in it?" It was always good to invite someone to participate.

"What would I have to do?" The idea of pain and frustration didn't sound very promising, but he had really enjoyed the spanking and cuming, particularly when he could do both. And if this girl with her capable hand was part of it, there might be additional benefits.

"I don't know for sure, they haven't told me about the complete study," Tracy wanted to stop the questioning so she could watch Mr. Stratton and Miss Pepperidge. In the mean time, maybe she could plant some ideas. This guy's cock felt pretty good and it would be nice to play with it some more. "I think willingness would be a big part of it. Beyond that, you'll have to ask her. I'm sure there will be a way for you to fit in." She couldn't resist the final double entendre.

Mr. Johnson thought about what he had learned, or at least as much as he could think. The action inside the room was getting hotter and hotter. If he had been stroking his own hard-on, he would have been keeping quite a pace by now. Then he realized that the girl was keeping exactly the pace he would have kept. How could she do that? How could she know what strokes he needed? But her hand, almost tiny as it wrapped around his penis, still managed to touch every place he wanted touched and to stroke with exactly the right pressure and speed, even with a little extra tingle now and then. Was she that expert or was she the Sherlock Holmes of the hand-job, observing his needs and responding to them almost before he knew about them?

Tracy was, indeed, observing him. She realized in class, more with Mr. Stratton and now even more with Mr. Johnson, that a man gave subtle signals about what he wanted. She didn't get them all right the first time, of course, but she learned quickly and thought that she could read this guy pretty well. It wouldn't be long before he would need his ejaculation controlled. She would be ready.

It was so hot watching Mr. Stratton fondle and spank Miss Pepperidge and remembering how he had experienced the same thing. Mr. Johnson felt each touch on her clit, he had touched that pleasure button earlier at the mall. He felt the way her butt jiggled, just a little when she was spanked, he had spanked her in the mall. He wanted his hands on her again, but it was such a treat watching from outside the room. And the slender, delicate hand stroking his penis was so good, so tender, so stimulating, so much in tune with his throbbing needs. What an incredible set of experiences. How much more could happen in this one night?

On and on they went, with Mr. Stratton teasing less and less and stimulating Miss Pepperidge more and more. She panted with the pleasure of his touch and thrilled at the sting of his spanking. He pulled one of her hands from the desk so she could grasp his massive hard-on. Both were delighted with her touch on his proud pole.

When Miss Pepperidge reached for Mr. Stratton's big hard-on and grasped it, Mr. Johnson's johnson twitched in sympathetic response and the girl's incredible hand stroked more, just as he would have stroked himself. He was so close to cumming that he felt the jism gathering, getting ready to blow out. Would the girl take it in her hand, on her, on her clothes? Or would she get her face down there to taste his cum or have it splat across her face?

Suddenly, Tracy's touch changed, some kind of squeeze that was painful but still tender, and he no longer felt the need to ejaculate. What had she done? Where was his glorious release? But her hand resumed stroking him, as though nothing had happened. Was he really as close to cumming as he had thought? Had she really controlled him to not cum? Surely, even as good as she was, she couldn't have done any of that.

When he no longer cared about increasing her frustration, Mr. Stratton positioned himself behind her, lightly touching her labia with the bulbous head of his probe. He stroked it up and down between her lips, then thrust inside. She was so wet and ready that he slid in to the hilt. The tight, snug feeling was intensely stimulating but didn't inhibit his penetration at all.

"Yes, Eric! Yes!" Miss Pepperidge enthusiastically encouraged. She reached between her legs to squeeze her clit while he thrust inside.

Smack! Smack!

It wasn't easy to spank her properly while he thrust his hard-on into her happy hole, but he tried. Each thrust thrilled him with the clinging, stimulating resistance providing an incredible counter-sensation of welcoming, slick heat. He had never felt such delight in a sexual encounter and wondered if it came from his extreme excitement, hers or both. He barely managed to remember her happiness in being spanked.