The New Summer School Ch. 02

“OH… oh FUCK her baby… mmmmmmmmmm, FUCK her for MOMMY!!!”

Mr. Cross was masturbating furiously. Summer and Dave locked into a dirty kiss, Dave’s pre-cum soaking her belly.

“Oooh, Daddy wants you to cover me in this ’cause he’s knows I’ll love it,” Summer purred.

And so for five minutes Dave rubbed his sweet syrup all over her, coating her thighs and butt and boobs. Even her hair, which became very bunched up and matted. He rubbed his cock all over her pussy and gave her a triple-thick coating inside. She licked the excess off of his hands, slurping it off his fingers. Mr. Cross groaned loudly as his daughter became sticky as a candy apple. She spoke again as Dave applied the fifth coating to her pussy, also dripping with her own juice.

“Ummmm… OH, now DADDY wants you to FUCK me HARD!”

So they fell to the floor, Summer on her hands and knees, and Dave entered her doggy-style. He pumped very swiftly, plunging his dick deep inside her body, as Summer’s shrieks matched her brother’s with each awesome thrust.

Mr, Cross turned to his beloved wife. Her tongue was hanging out, licking her lips over and over. Her thighs were becoming wet with her own fluid and her fingers were drenched. He took her and kissed her deeply. He hadn’t tasted those delicious lips in so long! His cock was spasming against her hot flesh; it was where it belonged. Their kiss was electric and flawless. She sat at a student’s desk, and hit bit off her socks as she continued to enjoy herself, watching Summer now furiously riding Dave‘s cock from behind in a sitting position, and Chet spooning his prick deep into Lucy atop the desk, grasping her tits for leverage.

Mr. Cross pulled his wife off the chair and the two laid on the floor between rows of seats. He pried her fingers from her boiling pussy and replaced them with his own. He had forgotten how wet she could be! She always had a large, deep vagina, and he adoringly explored her silken corners like he did when they were newlyweds. Her hands were still hot as her pickled fingers grasped his penis, and the two began to kiss savagely as they played with each other.

Brother, sister, mother, father, and teachers had never known such pleasure before. All six screamed, over and over, filling the halls with news of their ecstasy. They were no longer charged with educating or learning, they were no longer rich or otherwise. They was no concern with age. There was no need for civility. There was only excellent sex, and it did an admirable job of filling in for the other absent qualities in the room.

The twins came at almost exactly the same time, sweat pouring off Summer’s sticky body like a waterfall, her breasts flailing as she ground Dave’s penis as deep into her as she could, to squeeze the last drops out of her orgasm. Chet came right inside Lucy’s pussy. He seemed guilty that he had climaxed first, but Lucy kissed his forehead and guided his fingers onto her clit, and he had her finish in less than a minute, her breath sweet against his face. The Crosses, however, had only begun their encounter, as Mr. Cross plunged his cock deep into his wife and the two began to fuck in the missionary style.

“God,” whispered Dave to Summer, “We need to get you hosed off.”

The water cooler and a lot of paper towels inside the teacher’s desk proved more then sufficient, and soon Summer was spotless and gleaming, her skin terribly red from her blood pumping, and her nipples ripe and hard from the chilly water.

“Mmm, Chet. Aren’t you kinda creeped out by your parents fucking?”

“No way, Ms. Lucy. If they’re fucking half as good as we just did, I wouldn’t make them stop for anything.”

“They’re really cute, actually,” chirped Summer, “It’s really sexy.”

The door swung open, and Abigail Kinson, who was always early for class, strode in. She paused as she noticed the six naked parties before her.

“Woah shit. Am I late for class?”

“Nope,” smiled Summer, “My folks are giving the class a big demonstration, because we love going to this school, and now they know how we feel.”

“Mom! Dad!” shouted Chet, “Give us a better view!”

Chet’s mother and father were so busy that they barely registered anyone in the room, but the suggestion worked subliminally, as Mrs. Cross pushed her husband up, and she rolled over. Mr. Cross grabbed each of her cheeks and lifted her rear up, and thrust his full length into her pussy from behind. Mrs. Cross yelped, her big breasts smooshed like pillows against the cold floor.

More and more girls filed in to class, three or four at a time. Gasps met the scene before them.

“Girls, we’re viewing a demonstration of romantic love after decades of marriage,” said Dave, “I’d appreciate it if you’d all sit down and pay very close attention.”

More and more entered. Soon each girl was in attendance, and the bell to begin class rang. Lucy sat against the door, with Chet smothered in her arms; he popped a nipple into his mouth every so often.

“Daddy!” shouted Summer, “I think Mommy wants you to fuck her in the ass!”

“Oh GOD baby, YES!!!” howled Mrs. Cross.

All the girls chattered as Mr. Cross removed his penis, dripping with his wife’s juices, and slowly penetrated her anus. One, two, three inches. Mrs. Cross was no longer shouting; only a clenched grin could be seen as she hummed in appreciation. She adored anal sex.

Girls’ lips smacked. Skirts grew loose. Blouses were unbuttoned. Shirts fell. Jeans unzipped. Shorts dropped. Bra straps fell from shoulders. Elastic bands were stretched and snapped. Every pair of panties slid down. And out from the purses and book bags came newly bought dildos, vibrators, lotions, and every other school supply imaginable. Several just used their hands. Several boy-crazy ladies eagerly used each other’s mouths. All of the girls enjoyed their lesson. It was a very good one, as the Crosses indulged in five more positions over the next thirty minutes. The students had just begun to cum when Mr. Cross fired a huge load of cream all over his bride’s belly and tits as she ascended from riding atop him. His torso was sloppy from her own orgasm. The room positively stank with musk. Summer led her mother over to the water cooler; the older woman’s legs were wobbly and her lungs were pounding but she looked great as her daughter cleaned all her papa‘s cum off of Mommy.

Mr. Cross had not totally noticed all the students around, some of them still shaking through their own private earthquakes.

“You guys were SO fucking HOT!” growled Tara Jones, “Was this, like, a last day thing with Summer and Chet?”

“Absolutely not!” shouted Mrs. Cross from the corner, as her daughter dutifully scrubbed her body, “My children will be in class every day for the rest of the summer! Provided you all keep up the very high standards of education on display here!”

“Mom? Do you mean it?” exclaimed Chet.

“Am I ever kidding, dear?” she asked her husband.

“No, never. And I totally agree,” remarked Mr. Cross, as he began to dress.

“In fact… you’ve made me very interested in your program,” Mrs. Cross said to Lucy and Dave, “And I know of quite a few friends of mine who would be very interested in such… advances in summer learning. There will have to be some changes in structure, but I think we’re onto something very good here.”

She was dressed in a flash.

“I will contact my friends and draw some plans. Summer, Chet, don’t mind if we aren’t around tonight when you get home… your father will be putting me to bed for quite a while.”

She smiled and left the room with her husband and every girl in that classroom vowed to grow up to be just like her, as the class’ afterglow set in.

***

“And that… is how we got here.”

Laney’s skin had become fragrant from Chris’s careful attention; the sweet olive texture of her body was glistening with moistness, and her chest and cheeks were very flushed from the affection. Her undergarments were still in place, but clinging to her body, the gentle cotton of her bra damp from licking, and her panties sticky from her own arousal, the cherry red having become deep and tart. He was behind her, squeezing her.

“That’s even better than I’d heard,” murmured Chris, rubbing her belly to an appreciative grumble, “Are the Crosses still good with us?”

“Us? You’re being awfully presumptuous Mr. Chapel! The Crosses are very, very, very ’good’ with the school, yes. In fact, they are the ones funding our private program now, perhaps because they have two more sons and four more daughters to go. There have been countless improvements, as they have provided enough money for seats, meals, privacy, and lots and lots of tasty drinks for faculty and students, available all day, all summer. Full scholarships for each student. Off-campus housing for everyone. A new designer outfit for each day of class, individually chosen by each student for themselves. Video recording for every class, shot by additional staff on the latest recording equipment. And there’s money for our expanded faculty, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Enrollment is up by several hundred percent, you know. Even after our strict application procedure.”

“Do tell.”

“We start interviews in April, from prospective students whom we know are interested, and are willing to sign strict privacy agreements. And who have the full consent of their parents, naturally. The student interviews are also taped, to ensure confidentiality of our procedures. Many of our students are from extremely prominent families, from all across the nation, and even other countries. This year, we are honored by the enrollment of two princesses, for example.”

“Wow.”

“Regardless of background, we interview each student individually for two hours. We begin by asking them several dozen highly personal questions. The student then delivers a fifteen minute speech on how much they want to experience our brand of education. We read them four or five extremely enticing stories, and then they offer a twenty minute narrative of their most cherished fantasies. The rest of the interview is spent viewing a large selection of our most enjoyable films.”

“Sounds like a good time.”

“That’s the idea, sweetie. Only the horniest students are accepted; I’ve never seen so many young bodies with hormones bubbling over. By the time we get to the movies they’re ready to burst. I’d say a good three quarters of them begin to masturbate before time is up. All of those students are informed of their acceptance as soon as they finish.”

“Huh. Those princesses…”

Laney smirked.

“They started pleasuring themselves nine and twelve minutes into the films, respectively. One of them didn’t finish until after the films were done. But it’s not all royalty, Mr. Chapel. We are extraordinarily proud than fifteen percent of our females and twelve percent of our males are from the lowest income brackets in the nation, though they are exceptional students, straight ‘A‘s throughout school, and nymphomaniacs every one; they deserve a very enjoyable summer in reward for their hard work.”

“Real philanthropists here.”

“Hmm. We may have to revise our procedures, though. By the middle of May, word of our criteria had apparently been passed around to the students awaiting interview; applicants started to fully undress as soon as the films began! But even the less outgoing students are considered, based on their oral material. I remember one young man in particular; his fantasy presentation was phenomenal, involving several of his first cousins and his father’s lover. He was accepted quickly. Every applicant is given video copies of their interview on disc, for a memento. Every graduating student receives a dvd package of their classes as well, to keep them warm on those cold college evenings.”

“Sounds like everyone wants to join.”

“That’s why we have such an increase in student body.”

“And do you still need more teachers for those student bodies?”

Laney gazed at him for a second, then exploded into laughter, her breasts bouncing as she slapped her bare knees.

“Yes, Mr. Chapel,” she bellowed, still giggling, “I think we do need one more teacher. You’ve done wonderfully here, and we’d love to have you on our staff.”

Chris grinned wildly. He embraced his interviewer and gave her a very wet kiss of gratitude. She pushed him away gently.

“Now come on, Mr. Chapel, you have to get to class. Your homeroom is waiting.”

“But… hey! If you’ve already set up my homeroom, you must have known you were giving me a job… why‘d you make me wait until now?”

“Well, we didn‘t know for certain until yesterday evening, when a young alum, a Ms. Haverson, phoned from Yale inquiring as to your status, Mr. Chapel.”

She smiled even wider, and began to blush, just a bit.

“And I wanted a chance to sample the new faculty’s work. Guilty as charged.”

Laney took his hand and the two exited her office and hurried down the hall in only their underwear. They located Chris’ classroom without much effort, and strode inside.

“Students!” Laney cried, “What do you think of your homeroom teacher?”

Fifteen girls hooted and whistled like the crazy college kids they’d soon be. Many of them held colorful drinks in fine glassware. They must have spent weeks picking out those new outfits. Chris was floored by their enthusiasm. He was so distracted that he didn’t notice Laney sneak behind him and yank his briefs down to his thighs, revealing his eight inches to his new class. The girls applauded and hollered. The camerawoman took note.

Chris turned to Laney, who was giggling again, as he kicked his underpants off of his legs. He grabbed her quick as a whip; her bra came off easily as she yelped. Her panties were a far tougher job, involving a five-minute wrestling match as the two of them laughed like school-kids, Laney’s breasts bouncing everywhere, while the real students cheered them on. Finally, her panties were stripped off her toes, her pussy soaked and dripping from enjoyment. Chris held her up, her hands behind her back.

“Mr. Chapel! I don’t have time for this!”

All of the girls leapt up, and they immediately began to fondle her breasts, tickle her sides, and finger her pussy to her utter delight. Two girls began to pour their drinks all over her body, getting only a few drops in her mouth, which Laney gleefully drank. Girls began to lick the alcohol off of her every inch. Chris held her hands over her head and backed away, giving the class access to her behind. More liquor was poured over her buttocks, and girls slurped it off her cheeks, digging their tongues across her asshole. Girls pinched and nibbled her tits. Three tongues were crammed into her pussy. Laney’s body thrashed in helpless abandon as an orgasm tore through her, but the young girls would not let up, even as they were showered with her fluid; she came almost like a man, and it drove Chris wild. He bent her down and booze was poured onto her back. Tongues lashed from the back of her pussy all the way up through her cheeks as alcohol poured down; with the added access, the girls drilled deep into her anus with their mouths. They sucked and pulled at her boobs like baby birds. And the unceasing attention to her pussy. Chris released her hands. Laney did not move.

“WELL, I’M NOT GOING NOW! I WANT MORE!” she screamed.

She stood straight as a rod and spread her legs wide and defiant, her arms wrapped like vices around her breasts. All the attention was focused on her lower body, girls all over her legs, her feet. Chris knelt down with his new students and aided two of them in eating more and more from her throbbing pussy, as if they could fill their bellies with her juice. The sixteen eager tongues rewarded her with a second volcanic orgasm, and her juice flowed onto their eager faces as she grunted in rhythmic succession. After ten incredible seconds, she finally had enough. Chris had never in his life seen a woman cum so much, and he instantaneously made it his new life’s goal to please her in a more private setting.

She put her hands on her hips.

“Well! Good luck in class!”

“Oh, we’re gonna be twice as hard on him!” a girl sneered as all the students began to pin Chris to the floor. The camera closed in.

“Now be patient, Mr. Chapel. They’re young and its their first day, so a little rowdiness can be expected.”

She closed the door behind her on the class’ noise, and began to walk back to her office. After a few steps, she began to skip down the hall, naked as a newborn, her insides fluttering like a mess of happy moths. It was a great job, if you had the moxie.