Teacher Stacey enjoys London

This the third instalment in the teacher Stacey series.

Stacey spreads a teaspoonful of marmalade thinly on to a piece of toast, the sun lit up the balcony on her penthouse apartment overlooking the river Thames and tower bridge. The river surface sparkled from the rays of sunlight cascading on to it. three months have passed so quickly for Stacey since she followed her husband Bruce to London. She felt her choices were limited after the embarrassment of being caught by the whole congregation of the 12^th grade prom fucking the old janitor. Apart from the chilly weather and rain, she was enjoying London. She missed California; who would not. She often thought back to hot days bikini clad in their garden, being fucked by the bad boys in her class, Greg her fat smelly neighbour and even the homeless men who trapped her in the park toilets and wouldn't let her out until she sucked their smelly dicks, mostly these thoughts materialized during sex as a mental stimulation. Bruce was happy with his new job; Stacey thought his boss was a pig, he looked like a fatter version of Tony Soprano from the Sopranos. Stacey returns cerebrally to the two homeless men from the toilets. She has breezed past so many homeless men during her brief time in England's capital, she must admit her heart skips and her pussy twinges at the thought of being fucked by them. Stacey has a job private tutoring Michael; eighteen-year-old son of Colin, Bruce's boss.

Stacey has a day off today so decided to ride the underground into the Centre of London for some retail therapy and meet Paula; a wife of one of Bruce's work colleagues. Paula was a once attractive fifty-five-year-old woman who now wears far too much make up and as had a lot of cosmetic surgery. It's a late September morning and the temperature is a warm sixteen Celsius. Stacey still isn't shy in showing off her fantastic thick figure and huge breasts. Black thigh high stockings and black lacy bra and thong combo are covered by an orange flared dress sitting just above the knee, a beige pair of short heels complete her look as she slips on a red knee length duffle coat. She looked in the mirror, still casting a striking resemblance to the actor Salma Hayek.

Stacey headed towards the nearest tube station with a spring her step and smile on her face. Many despised riding the tube, but Stacey loved it, the busier the better. She boarded the overfilled carriage gripping an overhead hoop to steady herself, awaiting the inevitable bumping and grinding. The train bumped along rocking the carriage from side to side. Stacey gripped the leather covered hoop above her head tighter, her other hand held the plastic grab handle at the top of a single seat. A man dressed in business attire gestured for Stacey to sit in his place. Stacey agreed and swapped positions with the businessman, he is probably early forties with a round belly which stretched the buttons of his undersized white shirt to their limit. He isn't the most attractive man; a scruffy beard and old pair of glasses cover most of his face and there's a slight aroma of body sweat, so much so that Stacey pulls out a bottle of Coco Mademoiselle and aims a mist of perfume at him slyly not so to upset him. Stacey can't help thinking of Greg when looking at the man. Her mind turned to California and Greg fucking her on her garden day bed. Train chugs along and the man's crotch accidently keeps banging against Stacey's shoulder. Stacey felt sorry for the man, that's how it started with Greg her old smelly next door neighbour. The journey had about fifteen minutes to run with stops and Stacey felt aroused and was now ready for some fun. She stood in front of the man to slip out of her coat.

"Can I trust you to hold my bag sir?"

"Umm, yes umm sure." the man nervously replied.

"Thank you, kind sir."

Stacey bent over in a way that flashed the top of her huge breasts to the man. The black lacy cup of the bra that held her breasts up also on show; even though the firmness of them meant they didn't need much help defying gravity. Stacey turned brushing her bubble butt against his crotch before returning to her seat. The closer the train was to its destination the lighter the carriage was of consumers. The man saw an empty seat and turned to rest his legs on the torn fabric seat. Stacey had other ideas; she wanted some fun. The main reason she rode the tube was for fun with strange men. Her long nailed manicured hand gripped his thigh, the other hand opened the zip on his trousers. His small dick dropped out right in front of Stacey's luscious red lips. The man nervously gripped her hair, Stacey's tongue searched for his soft dick before flipping it into her mouth. she held it tight in her mouth, pulling it as far as it would stretch and then back. The man looked at the ceiling of the carriage as pleasure built up in his body. He placed his briefcase style leather bag up by her head to shield her actions from the few remaining passengers. Stacey stretched his penis until she could finally feel it expand and firm up in her mouth. As the train sped into its destination. Stacey quickened up, the man started to find some confidence he yanked at Stacey's hair and fucked her mouth.

"hhhmmmmm!" Stacey moaned as the man pushed his penis down her throat. Then with no warning, the stranger shot his cum inside her mouth, it was sticky and clung to the roof of Stacey's mouth. Stacey just picked up her things and left to depart the train. She didn't glance at the man who she had left there still with his penis hanging out of his trousers. Stacey grabbed a bottle of water and washed down the claggy dry sperm that coated her mouth.

She met Paula at restaurant/cocktail bar on the banks of the Thames. The sun still shone brightly motioning Stacey to open a large parasol endorsed by a popular wine manufacturer. After about the third long island tea the subject of their sex lives and the daring places they have had intercourse. Paula is astonished as Stacey reels off story after story about her exploits in California.

"Old janitor, homeless, your smelly neighbour and pupils of yours. You really are a little slut." Paula replied with shock.

Stacey hadn't even mentioned her little adventure on the train this morning.

"I can beat that. Colin."

"Bruce's boss?"

"He might be a greasy sleazebag but fucking hell he can fuck."

"Really? Big dick?"

"Big enough Stace. He just knows his way around a woman's body. Everybody's wife as fucked him. It will happen believe me."

Stacey was in so much shock, she missed Paula shortening her name to Stace; which she despised. The pair separated and Stacey headed towards the station to catch the busy tube home. Her mind turned to Colin and why the wives of his employees would have slept with him. As she stared into the horizon through grime-stained window her concentration was broken by the train announcer.

"There is a twenty-five-minute delay. Sorry for any inconvenience, we are working as fast as we can."

The problem was all the talk of sex and thinking of Colin, Stacey was feeling a heat between her legs. The delay had scuppered her plans to get home and fuck Bruce on the balcony. Her immediate dilemma was the heat raising up from her wet mound and attaching itself to every sensitive part of her body. Her nipples sprung up stretching through her bra and dress. She scanned the carriage for a lucky hero who could put out the fire building in her loins. Just as she gave up hope into the carriage walked three Arsenal football supporters.

"Arsenal! Arsenal!" the loud anti-social behaviour of the supporters created a quick exodus of the carriage, leaving Stacey alone with the three hooligans. Two of them were drunk and overweight, the other was a good-looking younger guy; in his early twenties. The fabric of the older guys red and white football jerseys being stretched by their large beer bellies.

"Get your tits out, get your tits out for the lads." sang the men. Stacey strolled over to them and after slipping off her coat, she obliged. Dropping both of her olive-skinned large orbs out of her bra and dress. She raised up her dress exposing her thigh high stockings and thong and sat on the double, graffiti covered seat.

"Come on then boys. Are you going to fuck me?" two of the men at once clamped their mouths around her nipples. An older man with balding grey hair and a younger better-looking man with a thick lock of blonde hair. The third man kept look out. Stacey's nipples were being sucked and chewed. The older man frantically tried to yank her thong down with so much intensity it almost pulled her off the seat. She had no choice but to lift her thick ass up, to stop him tearing her expensive lacy lingerie. These men were not here to take their time and Stacey wanted it that way. Stacey snarled at the older man; his four thick fingers buried deep inside her drenched vagina.

"Fucking rub her clit, son."

"Okay dad, better not tell mother about this." the blonde man joked as he feverishly rubbed at her erect sensitive clitoris. Stacey twisted her body slightly releasing the men's cocks from their jeans, she had to slightly lift the older guy's tight football jersey. Still the third man kept watch taking no interest in the carnal action of Stacey and the two strangers. She frantically took each cock in turn switching from one to the other.

"Hum, yes. Nice fucking English cocks!" she shouted in a deep Californian accent. The older guys four fingers ploughing deeper inside Stacey's vagina, her hips gyrating with the motion of his thrusts. Stacey wasn't deliberately favouring one cock over the other; but the younger guy's penis was so smooth and tasted gorgeous. The older man pulled her hair at the top and was ramming her head down on his son's dick. Stacey needed no inspiration to do it, she gladly took the young guy's cock deep. With the train on the move again, Stacey knew time was at the essence.

She sat the fat older guy down, as she backed down on to his lap. He folded his large soft beer belly up towards his chest and Stacey's fine olive-skinned domed butt cheeks nestled snuggly on his crotch. His phallus pushed deep inside her firm bubble butt. Stacey slowly moved her hips, so her butt could get customized to his dick. After a short while Stacey is bouncing on his lap, her bosoms bouncing and swinging. The younger guy takes an ankle in each hand lifting her silk stocking covered legs to his shoulders. His smooth long penis slides straight up Stacey's wet vagina. She positioned the young guy's head on her mammoth breasts, his mouth locked on to her nipples; which were now like red sensitive cigar butts. The two men rammed Stacey ragged, her holes especially her anus being pummelled by two drunken football supporters.

"Oh yes! Fucking hell!"

"Come on, you are one hot fucking Yankee bitch."

The train seat starts to shake, Stacey's thick fit firm body squeezed in between the men who pushed their dicks rapidly and deeply in and out her holes, Stacey pulled the young guy closer, her tongue entered his mouth. They merge into one entity as they squash together, not one ray of late evening sunlight able to penetrate through them. The older guy forced his hands through the bodies and gets a grip on Stacey's huge globes, he gripped the nipples with force and one mighty push of his hips he comes straight up Stacey's back passage.

"Oh, that was fucking good, you are a hot American slut. Come on son fill her fucking up."

The younger guy's hand gripped the back of Stacey's hair pulling her head back towards his dads' shoulder. The older guy sucked on her neck as his boy rammed his cock-up Stacey with force, the bolts which held the seat to the floor were working loose from the barrage. On a large fierce inward push, the younger guy came inside Stacey, soaking her vaginal wall causing an eruption of her own. After Stacey climbed off the older guy, they just went on their merry way, not even a thank you to Stacey for brightening up their drab existence. Stacey slipped her red duffle coat over her used body and stared out the window as the sun disappeared behind the large sky rise office dwellings.

Stacey entered her apartment; the smell of fresh percolated coffee filled the air. She couldn't help but notice a rogue coat hanging where she would normally hang hers.

"Oh, it's you dear, my boss is on the balcony. Can you be kind please?"

"of course, no problem, dear. Can you make one of those latte things please?"

Stacey was intrigued to know what had driven every wife to sleep with Colin. As she stepped out to the balcony the smell of coffee was replaced by poor body odour disguised by expensive aftershave.

"Good evening, Colin."

"Good evening, aren't you a hot firecracker. Oh yes some of the men in the office were right about you. No wonder my son's maths as improved."

"I love tutoring your son, he is a doll."

"When are we going to get some one-on-one."

"Um let me think, never!"

"Do you like living in London big tits?"

"Yes! And its Stacey."

"The thing is Stacey, Bruce is still on a probationary period, I would hate for him to lose his job and the benefits that go with it, this wonderful apartment is company owned. Company credit cards that pay for your slutty dresses and sexy lingerie, gone." His fingers clicked together to gesture something disappearing.

"Please, Bruce works hard, you bastard."

"Wrap those firm thick legs around my face and everything will be fine."

His hand slapped against Stacey's crotch. He released it as Bruce entered the balcony.

"What have you two been talking about?"

"Oh, nothing much dear. Might have to do some extra work with Colin's son."

Stacey felt sick at the thought of sleeping with Colin but had extraordinarily little choice. She tossed and turned for the umpteen time as her mind could not switch off from Colin's ultimatum, sleep with him or Bruce will lose his job. She looked at the clock which read ten to four. She gave in and got up out of bed pouring herself a large neat gin and sat in a large armchair watching the rain hit the glass of the French doors that open up to the balcony. Another two large gins later and Stacey's eyes started feeling heavy.

Stacey woke with a shudder after a gentle shove from her husband Bruce. She had fallen asleep on the armchair with a little help from the gin.

"Have you been there all night, Stacey?"

"No since four. What time is it now?"

"just after nine. What time are you tutoring?"

"Three o'clock. Don't forget I have to stay a bit longer."

"Okay, see you later darling."

Stacey showered and sat wrapped in a dressing robe. Her phone pings loudly. A message from a private number.

'See you later big tits. Wear something slutty.'

"Cheeky bastard." Stacey said out loud, "how did he get my fucking number?" furious Stacey messaged back.

'Please don't message me. Its bad enough you have blackmailed me. How did you get my number.'

'Don't worry about that big tits, just worry about what slutty outfit you're going to wear for me. Slutty schoolgirl would be good.'

Stacey sat on the bed with head in hands contemplating this afternoons activities. She loved being fucked but this was different, she had to get into the mind-set that it was just sex and she was doing it to cement her husband's future. She flicked outfit after outfit along the long chrome pole of her walk in wardrobe seeing if she could put together a slutty schoolgirl outfit. A blue plaid short skirt is placed on the bed followed by a white blouse. Stacey slipped into the ensemble, white blouse tied at her naval, showing her soft Latino skinned stomach and large bosoms. A black lacy thong pulled up, she swivelled her hips so she could see the thin silk disappear between her round firm butt cheeks. The plaid skirt is clipped up at her side. She pulled her black stocking tops just above the hem of the skirt. She opened another mirrored door exposing a series of large shelves each containing at least five or six pairs of shoes of all colours and style. She immediately placed her hands on a Conservative pair of black short heeled shoes that strapped at the top of the foot. She stood in front of the mirror, she thought how hot she looked and she is so pissed off that her husband's fat chauvinistic boss would be getting the pleasure from it.

Stacey wrapped a loose fitting dress around her schoolgirl outfit; she couldn't really tutor a sixteen year old boy dressed as a slutty schoolgirl. She pulled up to their large house in a quiet London suburb, she noticed that Colin's jaguar E-type was parked on the driveway. He is normally not there when she tutor's Michael, just his wife and son. Stacey goes to knock the large wooden door, her hand wrapped up in a fist. She froze, she could just go home and tell Bruce everything, tell him what Colin had said. As she turned to leave the front door opened.

"Well that's not much of a fucking slutty outfit is it?"

"My outfit is underneath, I can't tutor Michael in a schoolgirl outfit. I am not going through with it anyway."

"Okay, I just need to make a phone call to human resources. Don't bother going home tonight Stacey. The locks will be changed before you get in your car."

Stacey couldn't believe the evil audacity of Colin, she now knows how he slept with the other wives. Why didn't Paula tell her that?

"Okay, you win. I will tutor Michael then we will go somewhere secluded."

"No need, my wife has taken Michael and his friends to a cinema in the centre of London. So it's just the two of us. I told Michael you were sick."

"You're the fucking sick one. I better come in then."

"Not before I see your outfit."

"Here?"

"Take a few steps back and show the street how slutty you are."

Stacey stood in the middle of the driveway that swept the entire width of the large house. She lifted the loose dress off that covered her outfit. She took two elastic bands from the pocket of the dress she had just de-robed and put her hair into pig tails, she straight away remembered doing that for Greg in California. The thought of it made her a little aroused and made her believe she might actually be able to get through this and enjoy it.

As she entered the large herring boned stoned hallway his eyes scanned her up and down. He playfully slapped her butt as he followed her into the white marbled large kitchen.

"You have a lovely house, Colin." Trying to make light of the situation.

"Fuck that. You know why your here slut, now bend over that worktop."

"Not much of a gentleman are you?"

"No, I'm a pig."

He certainly was Stacey thought, a fat one as well. The belt of his black trousers strained from his large belly which poked through his white shirt. Colin stood directly behind her. His fat belly pushed up against her bare skinned back. He wrapped both pigtails in one hand and yanked her head back, the motion made her chest protrude outwards, his other untied her blouse. Her amazing olive skinned bosoms stuck out, he quickly and crudely grabbed them. Stacey let out a moan despite being repulsed by him. Still pulling out at her pigtails, he starting slapping her breasts and pinching at her large nipples. She bit her lip to disguise the fact that it was making her wet below. His tongue slobbered down her neck as her breasts glowed with a crimson tint. He stopped slapping her breasts and started paying special attention to the areolas and nipples. He gently caressed them which allowed Stacey to relax a little. He released the grip on her pigtails as the thumb and forefinger of each hand clamped around each nipple, all of a sudden Colin was gentle and pinched her nipples with softness that drove a shiver through her body. So much so that her butt inadvertently starting grinding up against his crotch. He would switch from grabbing her breasts roughly to gently pinching the nipples. The feeling of hard and soft confused her body and she started pleading with Colin for him to be rough with her. His right hand explored her torso before resting between the hot patch between her legs. His finger gently ran over the lace of the thong. His thick finger nestled inside the thong again gently running over her clitoris. His other hand still roughly gripped her now red breasts.