Mitzi Seduces Mrs. Robinson

"Mmmmmmm. What's that all about?" He asked. With us, kissing had become less and less a part of our lovemaking over the years, so that kind of display had to be a bit of a surprise to him.

"I just want you," I whispered, "that's all."

And with that, I sat up and threw one leg over his waist and sat on my startled husband. In one smooth motion, I peeled the T shirt off and smiled as he reached up and began to massage my breasts with both hands. I leaned forward, resting my hands on either side of his face and dragged my erect nipples slowly over his muscular chest. I always loved the way his fine chest hair tickled them when I did that.

I kissed him again and could feel his little cock springing to attention behind me. Dave always wakes up at about

"half-mast,"and it took practically no time at all for him to get fully erect as a result of my attentions. I reached behind me and slid my hand inside his boxers and ran it along until I finally located his hard little shaft, up and down, several times using mostly just my forefinger and thumb. I hadn't been with many men in my life. None since Dave and I married. But in my limited experience, and from some comments I'd heard from some of the other female teachers at school, (and a few porn flicks) I felt as though Dave had about the smallest cock anybody had ever heard of. It was about three inches long when fully erect, but fairly thick. Even still, my fingers could all easily reach all the way around it, but it was still really cute.

But this morning, it felt especially hard, and especially nice. And I guess what I was doing to it felt pretty nice, too, because I could feel a little precum beginning to ooze from it, and each time I gave it a squeeze, I felt a little jerk in return.

Dave was lying on his back with his eyes closed, just enjoying my impromptu hand job. I was already highly aroused from lying in bed all night thinking about Mitzi, and I didn't want, or need, to spend a lot of time on foreplay. I just needed to cum really bad.

Turning loose of his cute little cock, I leaned forward again, once more pressing my hard nipples into his chest. "I want to be your whore, baby," I whispered to my startled husband. "I want you to fuck me like the bad girl I am."

Now occasionally, Dave and I would play little games with each other. But he was not used to hearing such talk from me. He looked at me with wide eyes, and just lay there as if he didn't know quite what to make of it.

"I've been a bad girl," I repeated, my voice now husky with the arousal that was building in me. "Pleaaaaasssse. Fuck me like I deserve."

I didn't have to say any more. Dave had the message. He threw me off him and nearly tore his boxers off. His

cock was standing stiffly at attention and I could see it throb and pulse with each beat of his heart. And his heart seemed to be beating rather fast by that point.

"Get on your hands and knees, whore," he said sternly, "I'm going to fuck your naughty ass." And with that, he yanked down my panties and shoved me into position on all fours in front of him.

I felt the cute little head of his cock tracing along my crease, searching for just the right place to part them. And it wasn't long before he found it. Dave grabbed my hips hard as he shoved himself all the way in on the very first stroke. I think he was a little surprised at how smoothly his tiny cock entered me. I am usually not nearly that wet with him.

"So my naughty girl is really wet for me, huh," he chuckled.

"Oh, yes, baby, YESSS!" I panted back, not letting him know that a good part of that wetness was for my little teenage girlfriend, Mitzi Owens. "Now fuck me!" This time I nearly screamed it.

Dave was always good about doing as he was told. If I had been a whore, I think he might easily have become a cuckold.

This time was no exception. He began to pound in and out of me with hard, quick little strokes. He'd pull his three inches nearly all the way out, then thrust it as deep as possible trying to make his feel as long as he get it. His thrusting was coming faster and faster, his heavy balls slapping my clit each time he slammed. But even that wasn't enough stimulation to take care of what I needed that morning. So I slid one hand underneath and began to rub my clit furiously, taking myself higher and higher toward what I knew would be a crushing orgasm.

Then I surprised even myself. "Spank me!" I hissed at my startled husband. I'd never asked for that before, never even wanted it. But today was different.

Totally taken off guard, Dave paused for just a moment, as if asking an unspoken question. But the last thing I wanted him to do was stop. I wanted him to take me. Take me right then. Harder. Faster. Deeper.

"Spank me, dammit!" I hissed, turning around to see the startled expression on his face.

But this time he got the message, and I felt the first smack of his hand on my right buttock.

"Harder!" I yelled, reaching down again and tugging at my clit.

I didn't have to tell him again. The second blow brought tears to my eyes. And that was just what I needed right then. I wanted, needed to hurt and feel good at the same time. That was the perfect symbolism for my life at that moment.

Smack! Another swat, this one on my left cheek. Then another, and another, and another. And each time Dave's

hand came down hard on my ass, I could actually feel his cock pulse inside me for a change. The little spasms were beginning for me, too.

Finally, after probably ten hard swats, neither of us could take any more. Dave grabbed my hips again with both hands and began pumping even harder than before. He pushed me forward until I was resting on my elbows, my sore red bottom thrust into the air to meet him each time he buried his hard cock once more. He was trying SO hard to force his little dick as deep as he possibly could.

Finally, he made one more hard little thrust and just froze. I knew it was time, and I took my clit between two fingers and began to pinch and roll it until I felt this explosion deep at my core that began shooting out to every inch of my body. I felt Dave's dicklette begin to throb and spasm, just as my cunt began those rolling waves that clutched and milked it.

One, two, three, four, times I felt him jerk inside my throbbing tunnel, filling me with his hot semen. But it wasn't nearly enough. I was on fire, crazy with lust, and I needed more. So I began to rub my swollen clit as fast as I could and rolled right from my first orgasm into a second that finally caused me to collapse flat on the bed. Spent. Exhausted. With Dave's softening dick slipping quickly out of me with each twitch.

He was so spent, too, that it was all he could do to keep from crushing me with his 180 pounds. But he managed to prop himself up just enough to keep from flattening me all together. Finally, I felt his disappearing cock slip out, followed very shortly by what felt like a river of our mingled juices. I'm not sure Dave had ever cum like that before, and I knew I hadn't ever orgasmed so forcefully with him.

He rolled over on his side and began rubbing his hands lightly over my tender bottom. His hand felt cool compared with the enflamed flesh there. "Wow, Susan, what was that about?" he asked, sounding almost worried that something had gone a little haywire with his normally conservative wife.

"Mmmmmmmm," was all I could manage in my post-orgasmic bliss. Besides, I didn't think it would be too wise to

mention that one of my students had lit the fire that I needed him to put out that morning.

"I'm sorry, babe," he said, "but I've got to get a shower and head over to the university to finish my enrollment for summer school. I think maybe we should talk some more."

"It's okay," I told him, my voice barely above a whisper. "I can't move right now."

He laughed as he got up and headed into the bathroom, and I just lay there on my stomach, thinking about what I wanted so badly to do later that day. And trying with all my strength to talk myself out of doing it. I wondered if his cum might linger inside of me long enough for Mitzi to unknowingly swallow some of it when I splash her face with my own juices. I devilishly decided not to wash the inside when I shower.

But the resolve just wasn't there. I knew I would see Mitzi that day. Knew that I would taste her tender pussy once more. Knew that I would regret it.

And I slid my hand slowly underneath my limp body, cupped my sopping pussy until the heel of my hand was pressing my clitoris just right, and brought myself to my third orgasm of the morning.

I finally dragged myself out of bed around ten, showered, dressed and started pacing. I walked from one room to another, even out into the back yard, where I hoped the fresh air would bring me to my senses. But no luck.

Back in the house, I paused in front of the large mirror hanging in our entryway and just stared at the face reflected there. It was a pretty face, I had to acknowledge. But there was something about the eyes...my eyes. There was an intensity there that I didn't usually see, a sort of burning. If the eyes truly are the window to the soul, it was clear that my need for Mitzi went that deep. The need I saw there scared me so much I had to turn away.

But it also convinced me that I might as well quit putting it off. I was going to see Mitzi that day, so I might as well quit stalling and head over to her apartment.

When I arrived and rang the bell, Mitzi greeted me at the door with a smile. She didn't seem at all surprised to see me, even though the last thing she heard from me was that we must not see each other anymore.

"Oh, hi, Mrs. Robertson," she smiled, those dark eyes sparkling at me. "Come on in. I was just chatting online and I need to say goodbye to my friend."

I never understood the fascination of Mitzi's generation with sitting in front of a computer hour after hour when they could actually be with REAL people. But there were apparently a lot of things I didn't understand about Mitzi's generation. Or at least about Mitzi.

I watched as she walked across the combination living/dining room toward her computer desk on the far wall. I always enjoyed watching her from behind, with her firm rounded hips that swayed so sensuously. Even at her young age, her body just exuded sexuality, and I wondered if she practiced the way she presented herself or whether it was simply in her DNA. Someday maybe I'll meet her mother. Hmmm, I giggled to myself. I seem to be lusting more after the girls these days than the men.

She was wearing some loose fitting athletic shorts, made of a red silky fabric. They were very short, too, and with each step they revealed just a hint of the curve of her bottom peeking out from underneath. She had paired them with a white tank top with very thin straps. And that was all. No shoes, obviously no bra from the way her pert young breasts revealed themselves when she was facing me, and I was betting no panties, either.

She sat briefly in her computer chair, typed a bit on the keyboard, apparently taking leave of her online friend, then turn to me with a warm smile. "There, that should take care of things, "she said and began to walk back to where I was still standing.

She walked up and stood very close and said softly, "I'm really glad you decided to come, Mrs. Robertson. I KNEW you would. You couldn't help it." And with that she reached out and took my hand and began leading me up the stairs to her bedroom.

"Wait a minute, Mitzi. Didn't you hear a thing I said that day after class? We just have to stop this."

"Don't you want me, Mrs. Robertson?" she said, her voice rising to sound like a little girl's. But I knew she didn't really want an answer to her question. She already knew it. She knew I wanted her...desperately. But she was just teasing, tempting me.

"Let's go on upstairs. Sissa may be home later and you don't want her to walk in on us...do you?" Mitzi sounded almost suggestive. Sissa was Mitzi's sister, Melissa. Sissa was the spitting image of Mitzi except that she had larger breasts and narrower hips. I wondered if Sissa might end up in one of my classes someday soon.

Watching Mitzi as she took my hand and led me up the stairs I was wondering how long I could refrain from taking her in

my arms and holding her young body close to me again.

I helplessly followed her up the stairs, my eyes fixed on her gorgeous ass right in my face as I followed.

When we got to her bed she practically pushed me down onto it and playfully jumped onto it with me. She turned sideways to face me and drew one leg underneath her, her heel rubbing against her pussy like so many girls do when they feel the need to excite themselves in public places. Most men are oblivious to this form of female masturbation and a girl can do it right in front of them and they never catch on. It's sort of a girls little secret game. As she shifted positions, her loose shorts gapped and confirmed my suspicion that she was not wearing panties. That brief glimpse of the soft skin so close to her hot pussy was more than I could take. My nipples instantly sprang to attention and I could feel the dampness and heat between my legs.

"I like it when you look at me like that," Mrs. Robertson. "It makes me feel all tingly and wet."

I didn't quite know what to say to that. I didn't really want to admit that it made me tingly, too. After all, I was not the one who was 18 years old. Although I felt like it right now.

Mitzi looked into my eyes and began to caress herself slowly, sensuously. She ran her fingertips lightly over her erect nipples, which were trying to poke their way through her thin white tank top.

Almost without thinking, I reached up and began to do the same—mirroring the seductive actions of my 18-year-old student. When she saw me start to caress myself as she was doing, she began to smile, a little mocking

smile that seemed to be saying that she could have her way with me anytime she wanted. It must have been that look that snapped me out of my sexually-induced trance.

"This is crazy," I thought to myself. "I'm the adult here. I'm the teacher. And here I am letting this seductive little bitch control me like this!"

I don't quite understand what happened next, but a sort of fire just washed over me. I felt this crazy jumble of emotions all at once. I was angry, excited, scared...all at the same time. Before I even quite realized it, I reached across the bed and grabbed Mitzi by her arm and pulled her over to me.

"All right, young lady," I nearly shouted at her. "We'll see who's in control here!"

Of course, I could physically handle Mitzi with ease. She was not even five feet tall and I was more than half a foot taller. I must have outweighed her by 30 pounds or more. And with the rush of emotions I was feeling right then, her little body felt like a rag dolls in my grip.

Her mouth was open and her eyes wide as I tightened my grip on her arm even more and dragged her to me. "I'm

going to teach you what happens to slutty little girls," I yelled, "who flaunt their bodies like that!" And with that I turned the astonished Mitzi over my lap and prepared to administer the first spanking I'd ever given anyone.

Oh, I had been on the receiving end of numerous spankings from my mom and dad. Both of them had whipped me as I was growing up, and looking back, I had needed it every time. Always over their laps. Always with a bare bottom. With their bare hands most of the time, but occasionally when I had really been bad, with a belt (dad) or a hairbrush (mom). The last spanking I received was when I took the car without permission. That time, it was dad with his bare hands and I was shocked when I actually orgasmed from it right there on his lap. He never did that again and we never spoke of it, but I'd never forget it.

But I had never done anything to approach Mitzi's transgressions. Intentionally not wearing panties to class. Showing off her bare pussy to the teacher. Acting like the little tramp. Of course, I was loath to acknowledge my own contribution to her behavior because, after all, I was desperately trying to control myself, and she was just egging me on.

I pushed my left hand into her back to hold her in place while I reached with my right to pull down her loose shorts. By now, some of her astonishment had been replaced by fear, and Mitzi began to kick her legs, trying to free herself from my grasp. Of course, my superior size and strength allowed me easily to keep her in place over my lap.

"Stop it, Mitzi," I hissed at her. "Stop struggling or you're only going to get it worse."

Apparently realizing from my harsh tone that I meant business, she stopped kicking and lay quietly over my knees. I could hear little sobs erupting from her throat as the realization of what was about to happen sunk in.

"All right, Mitzi. You've needed this for a long time. Your mother should have done it a lot more often. Have

you ever been spanked?"

"N_n_no," she sobbed, the word catching in her throat. "Please don't hurt me, Mrs. Robertson!" She started to

struggle a little, and I responded with a hard smack on the right cheek of her firm, rounded ass. As soon as my hand touched her ass I felt my own juices starting to flow. I had not intended this to be sexual. Now I was even more confused.

"Owwwwww!" she yelled. "Stop it, you bitch!" She tried to reach around with one hand and shield her bottom, but I grabbed her hand and quickly moved it out of the way.

And with that, I rained down a half-dozen more hard strokes on Mitzi's bare young bottom, alternating from

one cheek to the other until both were pink and warm from my efforts. And despite her struggles, I kept her

firmly planted on my lap as my pussy twitched, just seconds from orgasm.

"Now, Mitzi, the more you struggle, the worse it's going to be. Each time you struggle, I'm going to give you six extra swats. Now lie still."

She lay across my lap, her breaths coming in quick gulps. Her face was red with anger and pain and tears were beginning to trickle down both cheeks. "All right, dear, that's better," I told her soothingly as she ceased her struggling. "You know you've been bad. You know you deserve this, so let's get it over with, shall we?"

Mitzi didn't say a word. She just gave out a little whimper and closed her eyes tight in anticipation of what was to come. As she lay there nearly limp across my knees, I realized that this spanking was having an uncontrollable effect on me. My nipples had grown harder, almost painfully sensitive to the thin fabric of my blouse pressing against them. And the moistness between my legs had been transformed to a large wet patch on the front panel of my panties. I could tell by the warmth in my cheeks that my face was flushed and I could imagine what I must look like.

But I didn't spend too much time thinking about it. I intended to finish what I'd started. So I went to work again. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! The swats came one after the other. Hard ones that hurt my hand and that turned Mitzi's ass from a warm pink to a bright red. By the time I had administered the final 12, she was sobbing loudly, but doing her best not to resist, so as not meriting any additional swats. My own body was wracked with sensations like I had never felt before.

"All right, Mitzi," I said soothingly, "you can get up now." And with that, she slowly climbed off my lap and began that post-spanking dance that I had done so many times myself as a young girl. She shifted quickly from one foot to the other there in front of me, while she rubbed both hands gently over her tender red ass. Her shorts were still around her ankles, and I noticed as I glanced at her nearly bare pussy that her lips were quite moist.

"Now, Mitzi," I said gently, "do you understand who is in charge here now?"