The Cost Of Education

It was the same whimper that escaped Natsuo Watanabe as, with stomach wrenching spasm, she collapsed sideways on the sofa. Yokomoto held up his hand, gazing at it in admiration – Sayuri could see her mother's juices dribbling down his wrist. "Every time," muttered Yokomoto to himself, smiling, "every time."

Yokomoto knelt down and began licking at Natsuo's slick thighs. Sayuri realised for the first time just how wet her mother had got – in her reverie she had missed a damp stain growing on the cotton cover of the sofa. Had her mother come like the whores in the skin flicks?

Yokomoto held up Natsuo's legs, pressing her knees in to her chest. He ran his tongue down the back of one leg then the other, before buring it inside the woman's pussy. Natsuo let out a whimper, at first just one, then becoming a regular squeal as his tongue settled on her clitoris and began rocking back and forth over it.

Sayuri's discomfort grew still further as she felt a shameful dampness building up between her legs in response to the sounds her mother was making. Sounds that she knew she herself made when her clit was lapped and sucked. The heat in her stomach was becoming unbearable, and there was nothing she could to relieve it. The sight of her mother being brought to the verge of another orgasm by the skilled tonguing of this man who wasn't her father was so perverted that Sayuri knew she would be replaying the image in her mind's eye that night.

Again her mother gave a loud grunt and her stomach twitched. Sayuri understood the exact sensation that her mother would be feeling, the rush that was spreading out from her hips and echoing through to the very tips of her fingers and toes. Sayuri knew, because she herself would be able to experience those feelings herself if only she could slip her fingers under her skirt for just a moment.

Yokomoto stood up as if surveying his handiwork. "Mrs Watanabe. You come in to my house and sell your self to me and behave like that? You are a filthy dirty bitch."

"Yes, Mr Yokomoto."

"You're filthy dirty bitch?"

"Yes Mr Yokomoto, I'm a filthy bitch."

Sayuri felt that she should say something, but she didn't know what. Her mother was sacrificing herself and Yokomoto seemed determined to shame her utterly. But something in her mother's demeanour seemed to indicate she accepted it.

"You're filthy dirty bitch and you will pay for your slut daughter's behaviour. Do you understand?"

"Yes Mr Yokomoto."

"Stand up."

Natsuo did as she was told and Yokomoto manoeuvred her so that she bent over the back of the sofa. He positioned himself behind her and lifted the hem of her skirt out of the way. Sayuri saw the pale white of her mother's bottom, framing a splash of red and black, before it was eclipsed by the equally pale bottom of her teacher.

Yokomoto took Natsuo's waist in one hand and, gripping his cock with the other, rubbed his head up and down her slit, coating it with her wetness. Gently he pushed forward until her lips were wrapped around the fat bulb of his cock – she shifted slightly to open herself a little more. Then with a push he forced his whole length in to her. For a moment he paused, revelling in the sensation, every pound of his being gripped by the hot press of Natsuo's sex, then he pulled back until he was almost out, then with a grunt, fucked her again. He felt so strong fucking this woman that he wished it wouldn't ever stop, but such was the hunger inside him that he knew this couldn't last much longer.

Sayuri could just make out her mother gripping the sofa. She wondered what she felt like, the fat prick driving in and out of her pussy, the sensation of being rocked by the man as he crashed into her, his thighs slapping against her arse. Sayuri imagined, just for a moment, what it would be like to accept her teacher inside her. She found herself thinking what it would be like to be bent over in front of the man, exposing herself to him like an animal, to feel him moving inside her, feel him pressing against her stomach.

Neither of the older pair was looking her way. She wondered if she could risk touching herself for just a moment – releasing some of the pressure inside her, turn some of these thoughts in to an intense reality. No! That was crazy. She could perhaps cross her legs. If she did that and squeezed her thighs that would at least create some sensation.

At that moment her mother looked under her arm, her left breast bobbing back and forth in front of her eyes, and Sayuri realised that if she did anything, her mother would know what she was doing. For if anything was being revealed to Sayuri that afternoon it was that for the first time Sayuri knew what is it was she inherited from her mother. The sounds, the skills, and, she thought she could catch a trace of it even from here, the smells of her mother in heat were those she herself displayed.

Natsuo Watanabe knew what was happening, but was finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than the savage thrusting in her cunt.

Sayuri was still staring at her. Her daughter's initial horror at what was happening had quickly ebbed away, just as she had expected it to, and now her face was one of fascination. The way the girl fidgeted showed Natsuo that, as she had surmised, perhaps she and her daughter were not so different.

But such thoughts were being hammered out of her by Yuji Yokomoto. His fat cock was filling her, stretching her pussy lips and grinding out of her another orgasm. If he could just keep rubbing his fat bell-end against that same place a moment longer. Please, she thought, please don't let him come yet...

Yokomoto sensed what was happening. The woman was trying to get him to make her come again. She was incorrigible! But it was too late for her; she would have to get her satisfaction another time. Inside he could feel himself ready to explode, the rush beginning in his toes and fingertips and surging toward his balls.

Yokomoto pulled out and rushed around the sofa gripping his cock like a gun. He snatched at Natsuo's hair and turned her face toward where his prick began to spit his come. A great white fountain splattered across her cheeks, a long string shooting down the side of her face and catching in her hair, another hitting the collar of her blouse.

Sayuri watched all this in amazement.

"Sayuri-chan, close your mouth." Her mother told her.

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Out in the street her mother began walking back to the station without a second glance back.

As the come had cooled on Natsuo's skin and begun to drip on the floor, Yokomoto had turned to face Sayuri, his cock wilting rapidly.

"Miss Watanabe, please have a revised version of your assignment on my desk by Monday. I will do what I can for you. I hope you understand that it is important you learn this lesson."

She'd nodded mutely, her attention focussed more on her mother quietly, efficiently wiping the worst of the come off her face and hair and getting dressed.

"Mrs Watanabe. I think we can call that half of your debt to me paid. We will discuss the remaining amount another time. Sayuri looked at her mother – this hadn't been the arrangement – but the older woman seemed unconcerned.

Now as Sayuri followed her down the street she could still make out where her mother's hair was matted, Yokomoto still marking her.

Sayuri-chan," her mother said, "please make the most of the sacrifice I have made here. Learn from it."

"Yes mother. I will do what ever it takes."

"Good." She held out her arm. Sayuri paused a moment then accepted. Together the two Watanabe women made their way to the station.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Epilogue

On the train Mrs Watanabe felt her phone vibrate against her hip. She popped it open. An email from him!

"Natsuo Fujiwara, your pussy was a wonderful as ever it was. I hope I played my part well enough for you. I can't believe how you choose to discipline your daughter, but if I can help out again, my cock is yours for ever. If that dumb fool Watanabe had not gotten you pregnant I would have taken you away with me to Osaka U and kept you locked up in my dorm to fuck everyway I could. That just leaves the question of that 250,000 yen (^o^). Love Y"

Oh no! She thought to herself, a smile forming. She'd quite overcharged him the first time. She owed him far more than that...