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The women who play a prominent role in Alan's life, naked
SIX TIMES A DAY – Part 106
Day 73: Wednesday, November 27

Written and illustrated by Spacer X <paul_t_22@yahoo.com>

Copyright © 2004 - present Spacer X; All Rights Reserved.

This is part of a longer e-novel. It's highly recommended that you start with the Introduction and read the parts sequentially, in order to understand the characters and previous events. The Introduction also provides the full set of story codes for all parts, as well as explaining the story structuring into chapters within parts.

This is an illustrated story. If for some reason a picture doesn't display, you may need to refresh the page or right click on that particular picture to retrieve it. If a picture has a black border, then there is an alternate version showing more skin. Read the "Bonus version" instructions in Artwork to activate and use this feature.


Alan somehow made it from Heather and Simone to his first class, but with barely seconds to spare. To do that, he had to run most of the way, which left him very winded.

Christine was disappointed. She'd loved her date with him the night before, so had been looking forward to talking to him again at school ever since she'd woken that morning. But since he just barely made it to class in time, she was barely able to trade hellos with him before class started, even though their desks were side-by-side.

Normally, Christine had strict, self-imposed rules about focusing on the teacher during class, and nothing else. Alan had observed that, so he almost never tried to whisper to her or otherwise get her attention once class had started.

However, not only was Christine eager to communicate with Alan, but she was also dying of curiosity. First, she wondered, Why did Alan just barely make it to his seat on time? And that's hardly the first time that's happened lately. But even more curious is how he continues to look tired and flushed, even now that he's recovered his breath. That doesn't jibe with a short run to class, unless he's very out of shape, which I can tell he isn't.

But most suspicious of all is that he has this aggravating look of sexual satiation and great happiness on his damn face! I'll bet he had sex right before class. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he was with Heather! Damn her! She's like an evil succubus, constantly leading him astray!

Christine had started taking notes of Mr. Tompkins' physics lecture. But she didn't need to, since she'd long since mastered the material he was explaining. So she started a note on a new piece of paper, simply writing the words in big letters, "Hey. What's up?" Then she tilted her notepad to the side of her desk where Alan would notice and read it.

Alan was very surprised when he saw her message, since Christine simply never wrote notes to people during class. But he was pleasantly surprised, and eager to play along, so he wrote on his notepad, "Hey, you. Not much. How about you?"

She glanced at his note and smiled. Because their desks were side by side, they didn't need to pass notes on paper to each other. They could simply write in large letters with their notepads positioned at the edge of their desk closest to where the other was sitting. The students behind them might be able to see that the two of them were exchanging messages, but they would be too far away to read what was being said.

While still pretending to look at Mr. Tompkins, she wrote, "Why so late?"

He quickly wrote back, "I was having a blonde moment."

She simply wrote, "GRRR!" in especially large letters.

He responded, "No, really. I was thinking about my favorite blonde - you - and what a great time we had last night. I got all spaced out and giddy, and then lost all track of time." His writing was smaller this time since he had a lot to convey, so when he finished he simply handed his notepad to her.

Christine was slightly scandalized by that, since she didn't consider herself the type of bad student who passed notes in class. But she couldn't resist reading what he'd written. She was pleasantly delighted at the flattery, even though she knew he was bullshitting. She couldn't help but grin a bit. She wrote back on his notepad, "Yeah, right. What's the real story?" Then, she furtively looked around and handed his notepad back to him.

He wrote, "Okay, the truth. I'm in the middle of a top-secret, undercover, journalistic investigation. I'm tracking down a hot lead." Again, he handed his notepad back to her when he was done.

Christine was finding herself enjoying this. She was making only the barest pretense of paying attention to Mr. Tompkins. Luckily, he was explaining something at the chalkboard and had his back turned, so it didn't matter that they were rather flagrantly passing notes back and forth. She wrote, "B.S. detector turned on. Let's hear the fairy tale."

He responded with some inspired spontaneous playfulness. "It's no fairy tale; it's gonna be front page news! I'm about to solve the mystery of how this totally smokin' hot babe named Christine Anderssen is smart enough to get into Stanford despite having blonde hair. I've figured it out: she has THREE brains!"

When Christine read that, she couldn't help but smile and giggle a little bit. She quickly covered her mouth with a hand. Her cheeks reddened slightly at being called a "totally smokin' hot babe." She elected to ignore that, and just wrote back, "Three brains?! What the heck?!"

He wrote, "No, it's true. I figure that each of your breasts are about the size of a human head. So each one must have a brain inside. The combined power of three brains equals super genius!"

She was leaning over into the aisle slightly and trying to read what he wrote even before he finished, but his writing had become too small for her to do that. Once the notepad was handed back to her, it took all her willpower not to giggle or laugh out loud. She had to cover her mouth again. She quickly wrote back, "That's so untrue. You're a total perv! But here's another 'hot lead' for you. I know of a brown-haired guy who has NO brain, at least in his head. His name is Alan Plummer!"

Now Alan was the one forced to cover his mouth to stifle his laughing. Luckily, he didn't make any noise, and Mr. Tompkins was still preoccupied in any case. He wrote, "Wow, you know TWO Alan Plummers?! Amazing coincidence. I'll get on that story once I finish this one and win my Pulitzer Prize. I just need proof."

Her smile grew. She was having fun with this. "Sorry, but you're not going to get it. Believe me, I have just ONE brain. And I only know ONE Alan Plummer!"

He gleefully wrote back, "I don't believe you. But let's settle this once and for all. Just let me fondle your chest heads until I'm satisfied." He stopped writing. Then he went back to the word "fondle" and crossed it out. He replaced it with "investigate".

Christine was having an even harder time not laughing. She was particularly amused by his phrase "chest heads" to refer to her breasts. She had to turn away and look at Mr. Tompkins for about a minute to regain an outwardly-serious demeanor. But she was having great fun, so as soon as she was composed again she wrote, "And just how long will it take for you to be satisfied?"

He responded, "Probably forever. But hey, you never know. We should start now and find out. Quick, pull up your shirt and take off your bra so we can get started!"

She snorted with amusement. She quickly looked around, worried that she'd made too much noise and that other students would notice their note-passing. But luckily, Mr. Tompkins had pretty much already lulled the rest of the class into a semi-comatose state. Furthermore, Christine was such the "goody-goody" that nobody was suspicious in the least.

Again, she decided she needed to recompose herself before going on. She could feel her nipples hardening and she hoped Alan wouldn't notice. However, she knew he would notice, and that only further aroused her. But it was the idea of Alan fondling her bare breasts in the middle of class, while everyone else somehow magically failed to notice, that really got her going.

She wrote back, "That is so not going to happen! Besides, I'm not the anatomical weirdo; you are. You have boobs on your brain!"

He was very happy that she was letting him get away with this level of innuendo. They'd come a long way in the last two months. He replied, "Fair enough. I can tell your butt-brain is feeling left out. If you stand up and take all your clothes off, I promise I'll spend just as much time fondling that part of you, looking for your butt-brain."

She had to cover her mouth again as she silently laughed. "I am NOT going to do that, EVER! And I do not have a butt-brain!"

He wrote back, "Sure you do. I figure you're as mighty as the stegosaurus, and stegosauruses had butt-brains, as everyone knows. Ergo, you must have a butt-brain too."

She realized she was getting far too amused, not to mention far too aroused. She pictured herself standing naked next to her desk, with her hands on the top of her head for some reason. She stood stiffly like a soldier on parade while a fully clothed Alan ran his hands all over her body. In her vision, he even knelt down and started inhaling her pussy aroma. Without thinking, she reached down to her actual pussy mound, trying to push him away before he started licking there.


Then she realized with a start that she was having a vivid daydream. She jerked her hand away just before she actually touched herself down below. Then she looked around, realizing with great relief that no one else had noticed. She decided this in-class communication was way too dangerous; it needed to stop before she got caught doing something stupid.

But first, she couldn't let his ridiculous stegosaurus claim go unchallenged. She wrote, "First off, this notion that stegosauri had a second brain (and not a butt-brain!) is an urban legend. It's completely untrue! It was just a cavity that was misidentified by some ignorant buffoon with an overly-active imagination. Someone like the bird-brained, boob-brained, breast maniac sitting next to me!" She looked to her other side, and noticed a guy named Stan sitting there. So she added to her note, "The one to the left of me named Alan Plummer!"

At first he had been going to pin the blame on Stan, but he realized that wouldn't work after her clarification. That led him to write, "'Breast maniac' sounds harsh. I prefer 'mammary maven' or 'dirigible devotee.' 'Airbag aficionado' also works. Even 'cantaloupe connoisseur,' if you will. And I will, if you will!"

Luckily, Christine was well practiced at stifling laughter at his silly jokes, so she managed not to guffaw out loud. It was a very close call though. She decided that she absolutely had to stop this note writing, and right away. So she wrote, "You're a total nut case! Enough, already! Let's get back to Mr. Tompkins!" She gave Alan a harsh look while passing his notepad back to him for what she figured would be the final time. Then she turned back to their still-oblivious teacher.

However, Alan didn't mind. He could see that her attempt to act stern lasted all of about five seconds, and then she went back to grinning about all of his silly, teasing notes. He felt good, knowing that he'd put that smile on her face.

After about a minute, she sobered up enough to realize that he'd been successful in completely distracting her from asking where he'd really been and what he'd been doing just before he rushed into class. She still strongly suspected that Heather had been involved. But she also realized that he was unlikely to give her a straight answer on that, especially if Heather had been involved. Instead he would just continue to deflect her questions with yet more silliness.

Alan decided to let Christine be for a while. He tried to pay attention to the class, but Mr. Tompkins seemed especially boring that day. Alan couldn't concentrate on anything their teacher was saying. He concluded he'd be pushing his luck with Christine if he teased her any more during class, so he decided to see if they could at least communicate about other things via their note writing. Anything was better than listening to Mr. Tompkins drone on.

A couple of minutes later, Alan wrote on his notepad in big letters, "I'm bored!" Again, he pushed his notepad to the edge of his desk where Christine could read it.

To his pleasant surprise, Christine wrote back, "Me too."

He wrote in smaller letters, "I like communicating with you like this. It's fun." Then he furtively handed the notepad to her as he had done earlier.

She looked around with worry. But she couldn't resist. She wrote, "Too much fun! I'm so bad. You're corrupting me" and then she passed his notepad back to him.

He replied, "How do you spell 'Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha?' Is that enough ha's?" Again, they were passing his notepad freely back and forth.

"I think you need more ha's." She grinned. But she didn't want to keep finding it hard not to laugh in class, so she attempted to keep their communication serious. She added, "How are your college applications coming along?"

"Okay, I guess." In truth, he hadn't done anything about them since his six-times-a-day treatment had started.

"Have you turned in your UC Berkeley application yet?"

"No. Why should I?"

Christine wrote in especially big letters, "The application is due in THREE DAYS, you dummy! All the UC-system applications are!"

Alan blanched. He quickly wrote back, "Are you serious?!"

"Of course I'm serious! Their applications are due on November 30th. How can you not know that?! Isn't UCB your first choice, of the places you're most likely to get in?"

He felt like the floor had just opened up beneath him. "It is! Thank God you told me in time! How is it that I don't know that?!"

"Didn't the college counselor tell you that?"

"Um, no! Now that I think about it, I never did get called to meet with the counselor. Maybe that's still gonna happen?"

"Maybe, but what good will that do you, if you find out after the end of November?!"

He responded, "I know! Pardon my French, but... CRAP!"

She wrote, "You should still be okay. It just needs to be postmarked by the 30th. You've got until Saturday night. Didn't you say you already wrote your college essays last summer, so they wouldn't interfere with your school work?"

He thought back and remembered that he had, including the essay Berkeley required. "Thank God for that! That'll help, to say the least. And thank God for you! I owe you, big time!"

So far, the two of them had made practically no eye contact during their secret communication, as they just stared at each other's notepads. But now Alan briefly looked to Christine's face and saw her giving him an almost evil grin. Then she wrote, "What's the word? Oh yes, I believe it's 'Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!' Note the proper number of 'ha's.' Since I own your ass now, that means the shoe is on the other foot. Maybe I'll have YOU stand naked in the middle of class so that I can fondle YOU all over. That way I should be able to find your brain, wherever it is, if you even have one."

He quickly wrote back, "Okay! Sounds good!" He made as if he was about to stand up.

That got Christine's full attention. She stared in disbelief as he started to rise from his chair. She quickly leaned across the aisle and lightly touched his upper arm while hissing quietly, "Stay in your seat! What do you think you're doing?!"

Alan was very pleased at how that had turned out. Mr. Tompkins was still talking while writing on the chalkboard, so he was extremely unlikely to notice, even if Alan had stood all the way up. Of course everyone else in class would have noticed, so Alan's bluff would have failed at that point, but he knew that Christine would freak out first.

He went back to his notepad and wrote, "I thought you wanted me to stand up and strip?"

She wrote back on his pad, "Not here! Not now!"

"Okay. Later then."

"Not that either! You're a total nut case!"

He grinned to himself as he wrote, "P.S. Here's a secret tip for when you search me: my brain is in my shorts, so search there extensively!"

"Your brain IS in your shorts, you goofball! It has been for months. What am I going to do with you?"

"Hmmm... I have ideas..."

She wrote, "Hey, get your mind out of the gutter and think about getting your Berkeley application in on time. You're damn lucky that I'm applying there too, as one of my back-up schools, so I knew the deadline. Get your act together!"

He realized, She does have a good point. A damn good point! I think I'm kind of losing my mind, with all this non-stop sexiness happening all the time. I DO need to get my act together. I planned to review my college applications over the four-day weekend, but what if I didn't get to it until Sunday? Or later? Crap! I don't even want to think about that. This Berkeley deadline is a real wake-up call.

He wrote, "You're right. I've been spacing out. I do need to get serious. As much fun as it is trading notes with you, we probably should stop, at least for now."

She frowned, because it had been a lot more enjoyable than listening to their physics professor. She wrote back, "Okay. Good call. But when class is over, I'm gonna slap you silly for spacing out on such an important thing. Get into UCB, dammit! Then we'll only be an hour apart if I get into Stanford."

He responded, "I deserve to be slapped. And it will be pretty cool if I get into Berkeley and you get into Stanford. Then I can continue my research on your chest-heads. And my butt-brain research too, also with you, funnily enough."

She wrote, "You're the butt-brain! What a frigging idiot! " The added smiley face showed that she was more amused than annoyed. With another furtive look all around, she handed his notepad back to him.


Alan tried hard to focus on Mr. Tompkins for the rest of the class, but he was no more successful than before. It was almost as if the teacher were speaking an unknown language.

Alan quickly gave up on trying to pay attention, thinking instead about his deadline for the UC Berkeley application. Okay, I have until Saturday night. That's no problem, especially with Thanksgiving vacation coming up. Fortunately, I wrote my essay two months ago. I just have to get all my papers together and send everything off. That shouldn't be too hard. I can't leave it to the last hour of the last day, though; that would be insanely stupid. Maybe I can do it today, after school.

It's just that there're so damn many sexy things happening. Especially at home. Like Mom. When I get home, she's gonna be there, probably dressed in an erotic apron and high heels, and nothing else. She's too arousing and loving to be believed! Whenever I think of her, I get so horny that it's crazy. It's like she could be the model spokesperson for incest, if anyone ever tried to "sell" that idea.

He found himself caught up in a daydream. In his head, he saw an image of Susan. Surprisingly, she was fully and conservatively dressed, looking much as she did before his and her sexual awakening had begun. She looked like she was in a television commercial and she held up a bottle and stared straight into the viewer's eyes.

She said, "Is your house plagued by troublesome sperm buildup? Is your son's penis tragically at the near-bursting point with life-creating wriggly sperm that should be deposited deep in his mommy's womb? Then try 'Incest-O-Matic'!"

The bottle in Susan's hand was thrust forward, filling Alan's mental view. It looked like a bottle of Jack Daniel's, except for the words "Incest-O-Matic" written in big letters across the front.

The bottle receded, and Susan's face came close. She said, "Just one bottle of 'Incest-O-Matic' will turn any frumpy, normal mommy into a raving, gorgeous, nymphomaniacal sperm receptacle!"

She opened the bottle and dumped the entire contents of it over the top of her head. A torrent of liquid poured out, much, much more than such a bottle could ever possibly contain. The gush of thick fluid flowed down her head and upper torso and, as it cascaded down, her frumpy clothes and accessories disappeared and in their place little remained except exposed and wet skin. Even the ribbons in her hair and her glasses melted away. Yet, apparently mindful that nudity is not allowed on television, one of her arms strategically covered her nipples (and little else).


Then her voice came back on as she continued to hold up the now empty bottle. "That's right. Forget grout. Forget grime. Forget dust. The worst problem plaguing the average homemaker in this day and age is teenage sperm buildup. Don't let your son suffer blue balls! Buy 'Incest-O-Matic' today!"

She waved the bottle around excitedly, like some kind of overexcited carnival barker. Her exceptionally large breasts bounced all over the place, which made it seem as if the arm covering them would lose the battle to contain them at any moment. "If you act now, you will also get-"

Suddenly, Alan came out of his daydream. He heard his teacher Mr. Tompkins asking, "Anyone? Anyone?"

Alan belatedly realized that some sort of question had been put to the class. He hoped he wouldn't be called on, because he didn't even know the subject at hand. He figured he was already in deep trouble as it was for being ten minutes late. Luckily, someone else was called on and Mr. Tompkins went back to his lecture.

Alan thought, Not that many months ago, I would have had my hand up in the air. I always used to have my hand up in the air. But now, I'm dreaming of 'Incest-O-Matic'?! Some kind of twisted sex commercial? What the hey? Someone should just lock me up and throw away the key and get it over with already. How absurd. Rrggh.

But I mean, seriously, how am I supposed to be able to concentrate on anything after a morning like this one? Between Mom and Sis at home and Heather and Simone at school, it's lucky I'm not raving and drooling in a straightjacket already. There's such a thing as too much pleasure. I want to run screaming up and down the halls and tell everyone how great life is, but I have to sit here and pretend that things are normal. And then, as if that isn't enough, I have to sit next to Christine in this stupid class. I can stare at her from three feet away all class long if I want, and she doesn't even know what I'm doing. At least, I hope she doesn't know...

Alan slipped into another daydream. The teacher asked another question, and this time Christine was called on. That in itself was hardly unusual; she always had her hand up for every question, and she was invariably correct in her answers. But this time, she got one wrong.

He heard a strange yet familiar voice say, "Christine, Christine. That is so unfortunate. Come up here." He looked up to the front of the room and did not see the balding and pot-bellied yet unusually "cool" Mr. Tompkins. Instead, a sexy female teacher who looked and sounded almost exactly like Heather was behind the teacher's desk. The main difference between her and the real Heather was that she seemed about twenty years older. Her hair fell to the top of her shoulders instead of going all the way down her back. But she still had Heather's all-knowing and supremely confident smile on her face.

Christine stood up. She was dressed in a sedate and unrevealing blouse, and a long grey dress that came down to her ankles. She looked around uncertainly and walked forward. "Yes, Ms. Morgan?" she asked in a worried voice as she got to the front of the class.

He remembered that Morgan was Heather's last name. Somehow, it seemed right to call the teacher "Ms. Morgan" and not "Heather," since she was so much older and more mature, even if she was fundamentally the same person. He noticed that she smiled and seemed to have mellowed with age. Her smile almost appeared to be kind.


Ms. Morgan, dressed in the kind of clothes Glory would typically teach in except with much more cleavage showing and wearing a skirt far too short for any real teacher to ever wear, looked at Christine with both disapproval and a mocking amusement. "You know what the punishment is when a pretty girl fails to answer a question correctly?"

Christine nodded sadly, then looked up expectantly at Alan.

Now all eyes went to Alan.

He sat up in his chair in surprise, because he had no idea why he was suddenly the center of attention.

Christine bowed her head down mournfully. "Yes, I do. But, but... I've never gotten a question wrong before. I've ... I've never even been with a man before! Couldn't he and I, do first, uh, ... something romantic... you know, I..."

"Silence!" Ms. Morgan slapped a ruler down hard on the table. She shot Christine a dirty look, causing Christine to cower in abject embarrassment.

Then Ms. Morgan was all smiles again as she looked at Alan from across the room. "Hey stud, it looks like another special treat for you. You get to pop another cherry! And the last virgin holdout in the class, too. Would you like to come up and do the honors?" She seemed so eager to see Christine humiliated that it was obvious the older Heather wasn't that much kinder after all.

Forgetting he was daydreaming, he thought in wonder, Can this really be happening?

He stood up and looked around the imagined classroom. Very, very few students in his real class were also in his dream class. Most of the boys and all of the average looking or ugly girls were gone, and in their place was a stunning array of incredibly gorgeous girls. Some of them were real girls from school who happened to be in other classes, including Amy, Katherine, and Janice. But most of them seemed to be complete figments of his imagination.

He went to the front of the class and stood there, right next to a trembling Christine.

Ms. Morgan leaned forward on the other side of her desk, eagerly awaiting for the two of them to begin.

He could tell what he was supposed to do: fuck Christine on the teacher's desk. But he was confused. Everyone appeared to have seen this many times before, as if there was an established ritual. But his mind was a complete blank of any previous experience.

"Christine, don't dilly dally!" The older Heather growled. "You know what to do."

"Yes, Ms. Morgan," she whispered.

The real Christine did not suffer fools gladly. Had this been her, she would have stomped out of the room and gone straight to the principal if not the police, and generally raised holy Hell. But the dream Christine was meek.

Looking like she wanted to cry, she dropped to her knees and began to fumble at the zipper on Alan's shorts. She complained, "This isn't right! It's not fair!" But her words came out in such a quiet whisper that even Alan could just barely hear her. A large part of her seemed to very much want to see his penis, even as some other part of her resisted.

The zipper went down and an extremely long, turgid dick fell out.

He was shocked to see that it was a good four inches longer than his real life penis and a great deal wider too. It was a monster. A murmur of wonder could be heard from his classmates. He noted that apparently his stiff cock was a sight that continued to amaze even if one had seen it many times before. It stood straight out from his body, as stiff as an ironing board.

Christine made the sign of the cross over her chest as she whispered and prayed, "Mother Mary, please protect me from this thing! If there's a God, don't make my first time be humiliating like this!" The rigid erection swayed menacingly around her nose.

After a quick glance at an increasingly impatient and irate Ms. Morgan, Christine turned back to his hard-on inches from her face and grabbed and steadied it with one hand. Her other hand went to one of his balls, which she hefted up experimentally and uncertainly. She began to tentatively stroke his boner with one hand, but she was doing it all wrong, running her hand over the top as if petting the back of a cat. Christine was broad-shouldered and big for her five foot nine frame, but just the same her hand seemed comically small juxtaposed next to Alan's freakishly large dream penis.

She kept her eyes closed as she timidly petted it. Tears began to pour out of her eyes.

He thought, This is wrong. She's not happy. I should stop this. Christine is a good girl. She doesn't deserve this. But there was no conviction behind his words. He had some kind of vague notion that he was dreaming and noted that the dream-Alan didn't seem to have many moral qualms about the situation.

Then what little fondling Christine was doing came to an end. Instead, she asked with her eyes closed, "Ms. Morgan? Can I ask a question? Why are we doing this? Why are you allowing this? Surely, as a female teacher, you would see the need to maintain an equitable balance between the sexes and prohibit this new school regulation that specifically permits Alan and only Alan to have sex with every single girl in the-"

"Quiet!" Ms. Morgan came around the desk. "How dare you question my teaching methods and the school rules?! And look, Christine, what kind of star pupil are you? You call that a handjob? Do I have to show you everything? ... Fine."

One of Ms. Morgan's hands appeared from the side and nearly surrounded Alan's massive erection. That hand went to the underside of his cock and began to massage his sweet spot, just behind his cockhead. "See? Right here. Focus here. Have you learned nothing from watching him fuck the faces of all the other girls?" Her other hand rested on top of Christine's immobilized hand and she held it and brought it the underside of his shaft. "You do it! And for God's sake girl, your mouth is for licking or sucking cock, not complaining!"


Christine still seemed reluctant, so Ms. Morgan put her other hand on Christine's head and forced Christine's face forward until her tongue tentatively made contact with Alan's cockhead. While one of her hands and one of Heather's continued to jack off Alan's thick log, she experimented with flickering the tip of her tongue around his piss hole.

Ms. Morgan drew close as if to inspect what Christine was doing from mere inches away. She breathed heavily onto Alan's huge pole, both because she was so aroused that she was having trouble breathing and because she knew it would further stimulate him. Then her mouth drew closer until her tongue also began to swirl around the tip of his cockhead.

Christine was doing well by now, but her face was forced off the thick erection as her teacher slowly claimed all of the cockhead for herself.

Christine watched for a minute as Ms. Morgan licked, then complained, "It's just too big! I'm scared." But her chest heaved as her excitement grew.

The sight of the joint cock-licking also caused a small commotion in the class.

Alan heard murmurs of some classmates' gossipy comments. He distinctly heard one girl say, "There Ms. Morgan goes again! Lucky bitch. Gets to suck him off every day. She never lets any of us cocksuck him without joining in!"

With Alan's cockhead now fully occupied by Ms. Morgan's busy lips and tongue, Christine focused on her handjob techniques instead. A jar of KY Jelly, or something similar, appeared somehow and Christine smeared the jelly all over her hands and then all over his shaft. She resumed stroking with both hands, and did much better than before. Now that his pole was properly lubricated, she seemed to increasingly enjoy sliding and squeezing her hands all over it.

But, as Alan's classmates correctly predicted, Ms. Morgan couldn't keep herself to just licking the tip. Soon she swallowed more and more of the giant phallus. But since Alan's dream-cock was so big, even as she attempted to deep throat it, she could only take about half of it. And it had such a great girth that she looked like she was trying to swallow a Big Mac whole. Yet, amazingly, even with her mouth completely full of cock, she continued to bark orders to Christine, saying things like, "Tongue! Sirry girr, uuude da tongue!"

Christine, however, was still too shy to use her tongue, and the best spot to rub just under his cockhead was already taken by her teacher's sliding lips. She seemed to be at a loss and mostly just stared at the incredible amount of cock Ms. Morgan had somehow managed to fit inside her mouth.

The ever-helpful teacher noticed Christine's lack of activity and cried out, "Da bawhs! Douwn foe-gehd the bawhs!" Tears of effort ran down Ms. Morgan's face as her tongue somehow tantalizingly ran all around the Coke can of cock inside her mouth.

Christine followed the teacher's advice. She began to lick and suck Alan's balls while continuing to hold the base of his cock. Since his cock was super-sized, there was a lot to hold. His balls were proportionally sized to his cock, which meant there was no way for an inexperienced girl like her to fit one inside her mouth. But she put her lips and tongue to good use and even managed to continue to fist the slippery lower half of his erection. Her body was betraying her and getting into it. Yet, at the same time, her initial tears had given way to open sobbing.

Alan was disturbed by that, yet he found her distress strangely arousing. He was also frankly shocked that he hadn't cum yet, given how he faced so much stimulation. Just the sight of Ms. Morgan trying so hard to please by swallowing so much cock was more than enough for him to cum. Yet, perhaps because it was a dream, he kept going with even more stamina than the real Alan ever had.

Ms. Morgan finally pulled away, utterly exhausted by what must have been a huge ordeal for her jaw. When she recovered her breath, she said, "So Christine, that's how you suck cock. Any questions?"

"Yes!" Christine cried out as the tears flowed down her cheeks. "You don't seriously expect me to put that whole thing in my mouth, do you?!"

The teacher cackled an evil laugh. "You know that sucking his cock is a requirement to pass this class, do you not? Either you do it now, or you stay after school and practice, practice, practice."

Christine just whimpered.

Still on her knees, Ms. Morgan unbuttoned a few buttons on her blouse and looked up at Alan's face. "That reminds me. I know I'm sounding like a broken record, but I have another extra credit project for you to help me with after school. Your other favorite female teachers will be there, as usual." She winked.

Alan nodded. He had no doubt that the "extra credit" involved a lot of fucking and that all the other teachers were hot (after all, it was his dream and clearly his imagination was extremely generous). If the Heather in this alternate reality was anything like the real Heather, it probably meant he was in for a lot of assfucking. He imagined a row of female teachers with Playboy Playmate bodies, all bent over in a line in front of class, waiting for him to pick an ass to fill.


Christine experimentally ran her tongue around Alan's giant erection, now that she had it all to herself. She soon rediscovered the sweet spot beneath his cockhead, and began to lick there exclusively. At the same time, she continued to rhythmically fist the rest of his shaft and fondle his balls.

But after a minute or two, Ms. Morgan barked, "Not bad, it looks like you've been watching and learning what the other girls and I do to it. But that's still a failing grade. Just start sucking on the tip. Licking is not tough. I know you've aced all our cocksucking academic assignments and tests; now's your chance to put that knowledge to use."

Christine complained, "But teacher, it's just too big!"

"Does my mouth look any bigger than yours? No. But I manage to fit it in every day, several times a day I might add. Look at all the other girls in this class. They've all done it too. So why can't you?"

So Christine did as she was told. She tried to get as much of the tip in as she could, but his cockhead was so ridiculously wide that it seemed to blot out her entire face. She continued to cry, though maybe more from frustration and fear than humiliation.

Ms. Morgan still breathed heavily on Alan's enormous dick, but she began to stand up. However, as she did she stepped on Christine's long dress where it rested on the floor, and managed to rip the fabric all the way up the side.

Christine stopped what she was doing and shrieked. In so doing, she opened her mouth wide.

Ms. Morgan had actually done this on purpose, hoping for this very result. She suddenly grabbed Christine's head and shoved it forwards onto Alan's huge shaft. Miraculously, the erection went inside, though it seemed as if there wasn't a millimeter to spare on any side.

Christine's eyes bulged; she couldn't believe what was happening. It didn't seem anatomically possible. Somehow, she had swallowed the entire giant cockhead, and her lips were wrapped around his cock just past it, so her lips provided friction right where his super-sensitive sweet spot was.

At first she just recovered a bit, and practiced breathing through her nose. Soon she discovered everything was fine and that she could even slide her lips back and forth on it. She seemed surprised and energized by this feat and began to suck with abandon.

Ms. Morgan had been using her hands to help force Christine's head back and forth over Alan's erection, but before long she realized that Christine didn't need the help and stopped doing it. She let go of her completely and looked out over the class to see if they were paying sufficient attention.

Alan simply could not believe how good it felt as Christine fisted part of his cock, sucked on his cockhead, and played with his balls on top of it. He had such a long erection that it very literally seemed like he had two penises, a six-inch penis at the base and another six-incher attached to the end of the first one, and she delivered double the pleasure any normal penis could ever hope to experience.

Ms. Morgan, meanwhile, continued to "accidentally" walk all over Christine's dress, tearing it here and there. Then she "helpfully" took a pair of scissors and cut away what was left of it, which left Christine below the waist in just socks, sneakers, and panties, while fully dressed above it.

The teacher stood back and addressed the class. "As you can see, Christine is working on preparing the cock for insertion into her virgin pussy. Because it is so extremely huge, it needs to be very well lubricated. Her mouth is not only getting his cock slick from her saliva, but it should be making her fairly soaked down below, which will also help. Aren't I right, girls?"

There was a nervous chuckle from the class.

Alan turned his head around and saw that most of the girls had their hands on their crotches, their chests, or both. Some of them appeared to make subtle rubbing motions, and some not so subtle. He noticed that a few of them had their legs spread widely and were not wearing any panties. The twenty percent or so of the class that was male also seemed to clutch at and furtively fondle their loins.



Christine seemed content to suck and lick forever. She couldn't get used to the sheer size of the throbbing pole in her mouth, and that amazement seemed to channel into a greater and greater desire to explore and pleasure the invasive intruder.

But unexpectedly, Ms. Morgan grabbed Christine's head again and pulled her free of the monstrous meat. "Enough of that," she complained. "We see plenty of that every day. The class is getting bored and restless."

Christine's tears continued to flow freely; she took some moments to get her breath back and recover.

But in less than half a minute, she lunged forward and resumed licking Alan's wet dick with a passion. With her mouth no longer stretched wide beyond all probability, she was free to talk again. She complained as she licked, "Ms. Morgan!" <lick> "That was mean!" <lick> "How dare you!" <lick, lick> "Treat me" <lick, lick, lick> "like that." <lick, lick> "I should make a" <lick, lick, lick> "formal..."

Then she seemed to give up any attempt at talking and attempted to fit the entire thing in her mouth again, but it was like trying to swallow the end of a baseball bat, and she found she couldn't do it without her teacher's help.

Ms. Morgan just laughed and pulled her away. "You see? You're just like all the rest. Once you start, you can't stop. Alan, I think you've got another dedicated cocksucker to add to your collection. This one's a real beauty, I must admit. Now it's time to christen her cock-hungry face."

"Oh. Right." Alan heard himself laugh. Then there was a rumbling in his balls and he felt himself let go.

Christine could sense what was about to come, but it was like knowing a volcano was about to erupt with no way to get out of the way and survive. She simply closed her eyes and opened her mouth and kept her head right where it was, a mere inch or two from the tip.

Alan looked down from above; he had never seen anything like it. As a surge of the utmost pleasure conceivable flowed though his body, a torrent of cum shot out of the tip of his cock. It was thick and viscous and the equivalent of the loads from ten men, if not twenty!

Christine tried to catch most of it in her mouth, but within seconds her mouth was full and she had to close it. She backed away some, but her attempt to evade the spermy torrent was futile. It seemed to go on forever and ever. Her head repeatedly buckled backwards as each new rope splattered onto her skin with what seemed like the force of a highly-pressurized fire hose.

Finally, Alan was finished and he surveyed what he had done. Christine's face was absolutely soaked with cum. It looked like there had been a gang bang targeted at her face. Cum dripped everywhere, which caused a second flood on her shirt. Insofar as one could read any facial expression beneath the layers of cum, she seemed both dazed and delighted.

However, one of the girls from the class yelled, "Hey, Miss Morality! Always telling us how we should be ashamed of ourselves, well, what do you have to say now?"

There was a general murmur of agreement and even catcalls and jeers.

Christine dropped her head. She had to repeatedly wipe her eyes before she could even hope to open them.


When she did, she broke into a new round of tears. "Look at me! This is horrible! Ms. Morgan, how can you do this to me?! The shame!" As she protested, she tried to clear her face, but found herself stuffing all the cum into her mouth. She seemed positively ravenous for it.

Ms. Morgan laughed. "Now you're beginning to see why this school has special rules about Alan and no one ever complains about them! Well, none of us girls do, anyway. But look at your top. It's a cum-caked disaster. We'd better get you cleaned up."

She took her scissors again and cut right through the top, enabling her to remove it without having to pull it over Christine's head.

When Christine saw her top go, she tried to grab it so she could suck up the large wads of cum dripping down it.

The teacher let her suck on the cloth for several moments and then pulled it away.

Christine looked down at herself and immediately crossed her arms over her ample, bare chest. "No fair! Ms. Morgan, you cut my bra off, too!"

"Oops!" The teacher laughed not at all apologetically. "Accidents happen."

"What am I going to wear now for the rest of the day?" Christine wailed. "I didn't bring another because I didn't know today would be the big day. All my classes! Walking in the crowded halls! Oh God!"

"That's a good question," the older Heather replied as she pulled Christine's panties away from Christine's skin and brought the scissors down to one of Christine's hips. "Especially since I can feel another accident coming on." With cruel laughter, she snipped Christine's panties on one side, then repeated the process on the other.

Christine stared down in wide-eyed horror, but she was also panting and heaving with great arousal.

"Why are you surprised?" Ms. Morgan asked. "You knew this was going to happen. If you want another load of cum, and you know you do, stop complaining and do what you're told like the cocksucking cum-slut you've just become. Now sit in your chair."

"Yes, ma'am." Christine sat up, seemingly totally defeated. She crossed her legs to cover her bush from many eager eyes and kept both her arms crossed over her exceedingly large yet firm and high breasts. But there was a hunger in her eyes. She looked hopefully at Alan's cock, which hung down but seemed nearly as long flaccid as it did hard.

Ms. Morgan slid a hand down Alan's backside and deep into the backside of his shorts. As she groped at one of his ass cheeks, she told Christine and the class, "It appears that our school stud is almost ready to fully break in another one of his sluts."

She looked at Christine, seeing her face soaked in cum and more dripping down everywhere. "Do you have a problem with that, oh mighty school valedictorian? Are you still complaining about how unfair this all is?" She laughed, and the class laughed along with her.

Christine didn't want to answer, but a long ensuing silence forced her to. "Yes. No... I mean... I don't know what I mean! Ms. Morgan, it's so unfair and unjust, and just plain WRONG. But I love it!"

Ms. Morgan flashed a wicked smile upon hearing that. "Do you begin to understand now why this school considers it a vital learning experience for every girl to be broken in by Alan at least once?"

"Yes," she sighed as her eyes remained locked on Alan's flaccid penis with hope and anticipation. It was at about half-mast already and slowly rising.

The teacher smirked, "You're free to go back to your seat. I'm sure you want to stop this humiliation now, don't you? Well, go ahead."

Christine paused a long time. Then she said quietly, "No, I'll stay."

The teacher laughed heartily. "I thought so!"

Alan interrupted Ms. Morgan's merriment. "Excuse me, teacher. I think you're forgetting your place." He yanked her short skirt completely off, then pulled her business jacket down her arms, effectively pinning her arms to her side. Then he ripped her blouse open, which caused buttons to fly everywhere. Her breasts exploded out of their confines.


Heather dropped to her knees before him. She managed to free one arm from the jacket and blouse and began to jack him off. "Darling, please, I'm your teacher! Why do you always have to embarrass me in front of class? You're undercutting my authority!"

He let out a cruel laugh. "Teacher?"

Heather, squatting on her high heels, inched forward so she could suck as well as fondle. "Okay, admittedly teacher and head bitch. Your bitch. But I still deserve some respect. The way you had those two busty teachers abuse my body and my ass after school yesterday, well... It's not fair!" She began to frig herself.

She continued to pout, "Everyone spanked me so hard that it still hurts to sit down. Is that any way to treat your teacher?"

"Yes," he laughed. He turned his attention to Christine, who seemed to be at a loss for what to do. "Stand up, girl!"

Christine stood up. Tears still ran down her face (though they were impossible to see amidst all the dripping cum). But she leaned up to his ear and whispered, "You want to know the truth? I got the question wrong on purpose. I couldn't stand it anymore, you fucking all the other girls but me. I'm so sorry I turned you down when you asked me out. Please forgive me!" Then she licked her way from his ear to his mouth and continued to lick her way down his neck.

"Aw, isn't that touching," Ms. Morgan said nastily. "An intimate moment shared. Be a dear, girl, and bend over the desk. The class would like to see your ass."

Christine was reluctant as she briefly looked out over the crowd. But she finally turned around and bent over the desk. She had so much cum on her face and tits that a lot of it started to drip down onto the desk.


With her long blonde hair covering her back, Alan, no doubt along with the rest of the class, focused his eyes on Christine's exposed ass and powerful legs. She was on the school's track team and in real life people joked that she could crack a coconut open with her thighs.

Ms. Morgan had taken hold of Alan's stiffening dick with one hand, and she fondled it while she faced away from him and toward the class. She said, "I'm sure all of you are as eager as I to see the high and mighty Christine finally get her cunt properly stuffed. However, let's see a show of hands. Who would like to see Alan titfuck her lovely orbs before he breaks her hymen?"

Alan looked around and saw every hand in the class shoot up. That is, almost every hand. A few of the girls were so busy playing with themselves through their clothes that they enthusiastically nodded their heads up and down instead.

Ms. Morgan chuckled an evil laugh. She turned to Alan as he reached out to touch Christine's trembling ass. "There you have it. You know what to do now, Alan, don't you? Alan? Alan?"

"Alan?" The voice was male this time. This fact slowly broke through Alan's daydream haze.

He opened his eyes and looked around. Everyone in the class stared at him, only it wasn't because they were expecting him to go up to the front to titfuck Christine. Instead, his teacher was asking him a question and all the other students were wondering what the heck was wrong with him.

The teacher said, in a snide tone, "Looks like you've rejoined us. Where did you pop off to? It looks like you were enjoying yourself a bit too much over there. Did you understand anything I've said at all in the last five minutes?"

Alan blushed. "No, Mr. Tompkins. Uuuuhh... I, uh, I didn't get enough sleep last night. I'm really sorry!" The dream had seemed so unusually vivid and real that he struggled to regain his bearings.

"Well," Mr. Tompkins huffed. He seemed to be pondering whether to take more action, but in the end merely said, "Make sure it doesn't happen again." He shook his head disapprovingly. It seemed like he was going to say something more, but he stopped himself at the last second. Then he resumed his lecture.

Alan breathed a sigh of relief. He guessed that Mr. Tompkins gave him a break because of the painted desk incident that had happened in the class the day before. Probably he thinks I'm still having some kind of trouble related to the football players and he's trying to give me a break over that. If he only knew the real reasons for me being late and spaced out!

He looked around. Most everyone had turned away, but not Christine. There she was, not four feet away, staring at him intently with a curious expression. He was already blushing, but he suddenly turned a much deeper shade of red. He quickly looked away, afraid to make eye contact with her. He tried his best to hide the big tent in his shorts without drawing attention to it in the process.

He still had no mind to pay attention to Mr. Tompkins. He thought, What a fool I am! If Christine had even half a clue what I was just thinking, she wouldn't fondle and suck my balls, she'd saw them off with a dull hacksaw! Dang, what the hell is the matter with me today? First a stupid Incest-O-Matic commercial and now this immature fantasy! As if! As if the whole world revolves around me and I get to fuck any girl I please in the middle of class!

I need to focus on reality. Like getting into Berkeley, and getting my application done on time. Duh! I'm such an idiot!

He found himself pondering his daydream. Actually, you know, it's not really THAT far removed from reality. I mean, is it? Sure, there were some weird things, like the mature Heather and, of course, no school in the universe would ever allow that kind of thing openly, and dang, the size of that dick of mine! But all in all... I mean, it's like my real life taken to some kind of logical extreme. Or maybe illogical extreme. Jesus, just look at what happened to me this morning! Why NOT fuck the likes of Christine to my heart's content? Would that really be so bad? Why was I against that yesterday, again?

He scanned his mind and tried to remember why it had been so important for him to reject Christine during dinner the night before, but his brain was so addled with lust that he came up a total blank. He mostly just wanted to get back to his fantasy. He'd never felt so aroused while in the middle of a class, and his dick was almost painfully hard.

There was definitely some kind of reason. I can't imagine what it is, though, given the way she looks so fuckably delicious, despite always dressing like she's off to join the Quakers or something. She needs to be sexually liberated, and I'd be doing her a big favor by breaking her in. I've never actually seen all of her tits and the daydream got cut off just as I was about to titfuck her! Talk about unfair!

He noticed Mr. Tompkins looking at him again, so he made more of a pretense to at least look like he was paying attention. When the teacher turned his back, he had a chance to look down into his lap. Unsurprisingly, there still was a massive hard-on there which strained at the seams of his jeans. But to his surprise, there was also a very large wet spot. However, he was relieved to find that it seemed to be all pre-cum and he hadn't actually had a big and really messy explosion, at least not yet. He casually put both hands over the large bulge in an attempt to cover it up.

He glanced at Christine again, realizing that he'd caught her furtively staring at his bulge. Damn! How long could she have been sizing me up while I was spaced out?! A long time!

He tried to concentrate on Mr. Tompkins' words, but it seemed futile. The lecture was too boring and the rest of his life was too interesting. He soon went back to his ruminations while he pretended to look in the teacher's direction. Maybe I shouldn't fight it. Maybe my Mom is right, and her Big Tits Theory is right. Maybe there's something special about me that makes it my natural destiny to dominate and fuck the sexiest of women. Why do I keep trying to fight it and act PC? I keep trying to think these are all just sexual games, but maybe there's something in women that makes them naturally surrender their bodies to my will? Alan, just look around at your real life! You have a de facto HAREM! Look at what's happening. Look at how Heather subjects herself to me like she's my sexual toy. Maybe that's all she really is and all she should ever be! Heck, even Simone was kind of acting that way today.


If so, then it's only right that I add Christine to my harem. Her body is perfectly designed to be a sex slave. She should just break down and accept it, like she did in the dream. You know what would be cool? Instead of just sitting here and staring at the back of her head, wouldn't it be great if she and I both sat in the back row of the class and she blew me all class long? That's how it should be! Every day. Living life just like my daydream.

Mom would approve, of course. She understands the DEAL. She's so right, and I keep trying to be meek and modest, but why? I'll tell you what's wrong! What's wrong is that Christine isn't between my legs right now, looking up into my face with loving eyes while her tongue lolls around the tip of my dick! I have the dick, the monster tasty dick, that all the women want! Yes! Taste it, Christine!

He stared at the back of Christine's head with intense, selfish sexual thoughts while he was thinking all of this. His hard-on was still straining inside his jeans.

Somehow, Christine could sense that she was being stared at. She finally turned and made eye contact with him.

He quickly turned away and stared out the window. His fantasies and thoughts were shattered. Shit. She must think I'm some kind of freak. I'm giving her all the wrong signals by staring at her head like I'm obsessed with her. I'm supposed to be giving off a platonic vibe now. What is WRONG with me, man? This is the "Bad Alan" taking over. I can't let him win! I can't deal with all these women being so tempting and submissive and far too foxy and curvy. I think I'm slowly losing my mind!


As soon as class was over, Alan urgently sought out and found his friend Sean. He practically dragged Sean down the hall until they came to another hall that had only unused and locked rooms in it and they went down a safe distance until they could speak safely in privacy.

Alan looked at his friend with wild eyes and said emphatically but quietly, "Dude! I can't help it! I can't fucking help it!"

"Help what?" Sean naturally asked.

"Women! The way they react to me. The way I react to them. It's like it's out of my control. Do you know I have a harem? Did I tell you that?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact, you did."

"Well, it's true. It just happens. Everything just happens perfectly. It's like I have the most amazing sexual good luck charm. I don't even have to do a thing. Like this morning. I have this plan to go and fuck Heather and Simone before school. I show up. My mind's a total blank. I know something will come to me on the spot. And it does! And it works! Within two minutes, Heather goes from being pissed off to practically wanting to name her firstborn after me! What IS this?! What comes over me?!" He was so emphatic that he found himself grabbing the collar of Sean's shirt.

Naturally, Sean was miffed. Not only because of the way Alan was grabbing him, but because of the way he talked about Heather, his dream girl. The thought of Alan fucking Heather caused his face to turn beet red and he fought to suppress the urge to punch his best friend.

Alan belatedly realized what was happening and let go of Sean's collar. He immediately tried to repair the damage. "I'm telling you this because I need you to take over. There's something about Heather. She corrupts my soul! Corny, but true! If only you knew the crazy thoughts I was thinking at the end of class just now. I'm slowly losing my mind! I'm not right for her, and she's not right for me. The sooner Heather is out of my life and you and her are a couple, the happier I'll be! She's the source of all evil!"

Sean's face was hard to read, but at least he no longer looked like he wanted to strangle something. He asked, "So, you mean she's like Sauron?"

"Huh?" Alan was completely perplexed.

"Sauron, you know, the great all-seeing eye in The Lord of the Rings. He's pretty much the source of all evil, although technically Sauron is just the servant of Morgoth. So are you saying she's Morgoth, then?"

Alan didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He wanted to grab Sean by the collar again and yell, "Listen to me! I'm going crazy, and you're making Lord of the Rings comparisons?!" But he did desperately need Sean's help, so he calmed himself a bit and tried to think in a Sean mindset. "No. Not Morgoth. Not at all. Come on, even Heather is only so powerful. She's more like ... Saruman. I mean, Saruman was fundamentally good. But then he became corrupted by power and turned evil. Gandalf tried to save him, and maybe he could have, but he failed. It's just like that, except that I'm not just failing to turn her, she's turning ME to evil."

On a roll with the metaphor, he continued more enthusiastically, "You know what? Hobbits have a strange resistance to the powers of evil. You, my friend, are a hobbit! I'm not. YOU can resist her! You have to!"

Sean thought about that for some moments, then answered, "What makes me a hobbit? And why do you look so frantic? Take a chill pill, man!"

Alan thought that was good advice. He took a step back and leaned wearily against a hall locker. "I don't know, dude. It's just... this morning. These whole last two months! I was daydreaming in class just now, wild and outrageous dreams, and then it occurred to me, 'Hey, these are actually pretty close to my real life.' I can't handle it. How can a person have so much sex and not turn into a raving sexual maniac?"

"You." He suddenly poked Sean in the chest with a finger. "YOU are going to be my salvation. I have to get Heather out of my life. I feel if I can do that, I can keep my worst tendencies in check. You, alone, have the love for Heather to want to see she comes out right. That's your protection against her evil. That's what makes you the metaphorical hobbit. Plus, you haven't been sexually corrupted already like I have. That's the key, to get you sexually experienced and talented enough to impress Heather, but not actually sexually corrupted, so you'll bring her to the good side instead of you going to the evil side."

"The dark side, you mean," Sean corrected him. "We're talking about the Force now, right?"

"Sean! Dude! Are you trying to drive me insane, too?! Enough fucking movie references already! I'm dead serious here. I already had you on the fast sexual apprentice track, but as of now I'm putting you on the super fast track. I already have some plans in motion for you for this afternoon, which is good 'cos it'll be exactly what you need. Get ready. It's gonna be intense, but fun, if you open yourself up to the experience."

Alan had spoken to Xania and already put the plan in motion: since she was coming down to Orange County tonight for the Plummer poke-her party, he asked if she could come down in the afternoon and give Sean his first lesson in anal sex. She'd agreed, but only on the condition that Alan join them and give her a good double penetration fucking. However, he had talked her out of it. As much as that sounded like great fun to him, he convinced her that Sean needed to take things one step at a time and that she and Sean needed to focus 100 percent on Sean's first anal sex experience.


But Alan, in his sex-addled mind, was now regretting his consideration for Sean. An image of Xania taking two dicks at once filled his head.

Then, as his thoughts tended to do whenever Xania came to mind, he began to think about her long tongue and all the skilled things she could do with it. He began to slip into daydream mode as he imagined Xania's tongue snaking out at him, just as super-sized in length as his cock had been in his earlier daydream.


Alan realized his eyes had glazed over and his dick had become fully erect. Yet again. "Oh. Yeah. Just keep in mind that you HAVE to do your best to turn Saruman from the dark side, and fuck it if I'm mixing my movie metaphors. Do you understand what I'm trying to say to you?"

"Yeah. Kind of. I guess. I will try to do my best with whatever you throw at me. Seriously. I did pretty okay last time, right? But I don't understand what's eating you up so much. You're living every man's dream life, dude. What could possibly be the problem?"

Alan clenched the hair on his head in exasperation, but remained quiet while he collected his thoughts. Finally, he said, "It's like this. I LIKE the old me. The pre-sexual me. I don't want to lose that completely. And of course, I love the sex. But I don't want to turn into some completely different person. But I am! Power corrupts, just like what happened to Saruman when he was tempted by the possibilities of the Ring of Power. It's becoming so all I can think of is sex. All I can think of women is that they're sexual objects I need to fuck. The truth is, if you can win Heather, you're not only going to save her from evil, you might save me from evil, too."

"Wow. Dude. That's a lot to handle at nine in the morning."

"I know. I'm sorry. And we've got to hustle off to our next class. I've already been late to one today. But one quick question: can't we come up with some better metaphor than Heather equals Saruman? Sexy young female fox versus ugly old male wizard doesn't do it for me. Can't we pick, I dunno, the Wicked Witch of the West or something? Some female character."

"The Wizard of Oz? Alan, that is such an ancient reference. And totally gay. Puh-lease! I didn't even see that movie." Sean looked at his watch impatiently.

"Okay. But try to think of something else, alright? These metaphors are good in helping you understand, so the closer the metaphor we can find, the better."

"Okay. I gotta boogie. I'll think about that and everything else while I sit through my boring calculus class. But seriously, take a whole handful of chill pills. Later!" He started to bolt off for his next class, but stopped abruptly and turned. "Hey! I got it! Phoenix, from the X-Men. Y'know, Dark Phoenix and Jean Grey?"

Alan felt like laughing out loud at the sheer absurdity of life. But he contained himself and replied, "Hmmm. Comic book reference, eh?"

"It sorta works!" Sean said enthusiastically. "I mean, they're both damned hot! Think about it. Anyway, ciao for now."

"Later!" Alan waited until Sean was out of sight, then let out a heavy sigh. Then he too started to hustle to his next class. He was glad at least that, for once, his erection had subsided on its own.

As he hurried, he thought, Sean gets things a bit, but he doesn't really understand my problem. To be frank, I'm not sure if I do. Maybe I should just give in and go with the "Bad Alan" vibe. Am I just delaying the inevitable? I wish I could talk to some outsider about this- hey! Xania IS coming to town today. She's got her thing with Sean that I've planned, not to mention the poke-her party, but maybe she can squeeze in an advice session in there somewhere? I hope so!

The hallways were rapidly emptying of people, so he broke into a full run.


Alan did his best in his next class and actually paid attention. Once the class was over, as he wandered the halls on his way to his third-period art class, he ran into Simone in a busy hallway.


She stopped him and said, "Hey." She looked a bit bashful, given that they'd fucked a couple of hours earlier, but she wasn't the bashful type and recovered quickly. She spoke quietly near his ear so only he could hear, "Guess what? Heather got in trouble and was sent home."

"What? Just for being late?"

"No. She was way late, but that wasn't the main problem. When she finally strolled into her first-period class, the teacher took one look at her and sent her to the principal's office. Said she was dressed like a tart. Then she got sent home to change. She just got back."

"Huh. Well, she was dressed pretty outrageously, even for her. I'm actually a bit relieved to find she can't get away with wearing just anything."

"Well, it's not that simple. Our first period teacher, you know the old hag Mrs. Jenkins? She gave Heather a very disapproving look as Heather came in and I think she was going to leave it at that, but then Heather did something to cause Mrs. Jenkins' eyes to practically pop out of her head! I couldn't see what it was, with the desk in the way and everything, but I'll bet she purposely flashed that she wasn't wearing panties. Of course the teach couldn't ignore that." She grinned from ear to ear. "That's what I love about Heather: she's a complete daredevil and ALWAYS entertaining!"

"Huh. Do you think that's going to be a problem for her at home, getting busted like that?"

"Nah. Her parents aren't home in the mornings, and they wouldn't care if they heard about it. Their perfect princess can do no wrong and it's always somebody else's fault. That's actually what they call her: 'princess.' They spoil her rotten."

"Oh." Alan was still spaced out and not very talkative.

But Simone did feel talkative. She continued, "I mean, Heather is such a rascal and she rubs it in everybody's face. She loves to flaunt her disrespect for authority. Did you know she was gone for two hours, even though she was told in no uncertain terms to be back in less than one? I think she just did that to see if she could get away with it."

He tried to figure out what Heather being gone so long might mean. Heather hated her classes, but she loved the times in between where she could strut around as if she owned the school and she actually hated to miss school for that reason.

Simone felt a new camaraderie and bond with Alan, and was too talkative and engaged for him to have time to think. She lightly punched him in the arm. "Hey! Guess what?"


She put her hand on her stomach and frowned. "I feel funny. There's a tingling down here. Kinda feels like something's getting ... fertilized."

He realized that she was just joking, so he sarcastically replied, "Ha ha. Very cute."

She replied with a dead seriousness, "No, really. You know that when I said I was on the pill, I was talking about taking vitamins, not birth control pills."

It took him a few seconds to realize she was joking again. Then he looked around frantically, realizing that a phrase like "birth control" could prick people's ears. He said quietly, "Shush! We're in a busy hallway!"

She laughed heartily. "Just yanking your chain. Though I'd rather be yanking something else, if Heather ever could let go of it." She nudged him again playfully.

He was even more worried now. "Simone! Seriously! Joking is fine, but not now, not here. You know all my problems with the football players. Have mercy!"

She continued to chuckle, but she could see his point. "Okay. Sorry. I'm just having too much fun today."

"By the way, where's Heather?" His eyes began to wander down from her face. He eyed her crotch as he recalled filling her pussy with cum just hours before.

She shrugged her shoulders in response to his question. However, there was some sparkle in her eyes that showed she was thinking about the sex they'd shared as well.

"Could you keep a close eye on her? Please? There's no telling what she'll do from one moment to the next."

She replied, "Well, we shared the last class and she had that kind of spaced-out look that means you-know-what. But I'll stay on her tail." With a quick glance around and a conspiratorial wink, she added, "Figuratively speaking, that is."

"Thanks." He did know "you-know-what" - the anal dildo dumb-down effect. "But still. What with her purposefully gone for two hours, and for no good reason, my working assumption is she's up to no good."

She laughed. "That's a good assumption. You're probably right!" But she didn't seem that concerned. She looked down at the growing bulge in his jeans and raised an intrigued eyebrow.

He had a bad feeling about Heather's disappearance, but he realized with frustration that there was no way to figure anything out, so he disregarded the problem.


Simone made to walk off, but she stopped and turned back. She rolled her T-shirt up over her stomach so he could see her belly button. "Hey. Alan. Check out my stomach. Do you think I'm showing yet?" She put her hands on her head and sucked in her gut to really vamp it up and show off her toned physique.

He raised his hands up to his head in frustration. But he couldn't help but laugh at her running gag. "I'm going to get you for that!"

She smiled, pulled her shirt back down, and walked off. She knew that he was impressed with her muscle tone and her stomach and legs in particular, and was pleased that she'd managed to flirt and show off a bit.

I like her, he thought. She's got spirit. And maybe I never really gave her a full consideration in the looks department just because she's black and I considered her off-limits for some stupid reason. But really, she's the equal in beauty of any girl in the school. Maybe not quite the best in the face, but what a body! So strong. I'll bet she could run a marathon. I'd love to have a sexual marathon with her, all night long.

He mentally focused on his groin and belatedly paid attention to his erection. Down, boy. I hope it wasn't all the pregnancy joking that did that. I'm not into that whole idea. No way. What if I DID get her pregnant, what a disaster that would be! Not because she's black; I don't care about that. But to have her or any other girl showing before the end of the school year? No thanks! I could kiss college and everything else good-bye.


Alan had to take a test in his next class, but it wasn't tough and he managed to finish with fifteen minutes before the end of the period. He thought, Perfect. A massive chunk of uninterrupted daydream time. Ah, yes, now what was I doing with Christine before I was so rudely interrupted? Although, to be honest, that break was a very healthy thing. It's always good to talk to Sean and unload what's on my mind. And the fact that he's another guy, a regular guy, somehow that's very important. The fact is, I got carried away with that Christine daydream.

Heather put me in such a "Bad Alan" mood that I totally forgot that Christine is a real human being and not just a sexual object for my amusement. Heh, that's kind of ironic given what Heather said to me earlier. But in any case, Christine is a very unique, wonderful, and extremely talented person. That's what really matters in life, the complex emotions like love and caring. Not just the base sexual urges. I should do what's right for Christine, and that means leaving her out of my sordid little sex world.

That said, there's nothing wrong with a little fantasizing. In fact, if I can satisfy my sexual fantasies with her just within my head, then I won't feel the urge to do so in real life. I know that the main thing I'm feeling is just this "you want most what you can't get" feeling. What is it with human nature, and especially male nature? Why is it that when a guy has five women in a harem, the thing that obsesses him the most is getting a sixth? Well, I'm not going to be like that. That's the true path to madness, because with that attitude I'll never be satisfied. Instead, I'm going to treat Christine like the lady that she is in real life, and only treat her like a fuck toy in my dreams.

Speaking of which, that last one was pretty sweet, imagining titfucking her in front of class. I almost shot a load right there in class! What was it that the older version of Heather said? Oh yeah: "Let's see a show of hands. Who would like to see Alan titfuck her lovely orbs before he breaks her hymen?" And then everyone in class raised their hands. And then Heather, or I should say Ms. Morgan, said...

"There you have it. You know what to do now, Alan, don't you?"

Alan looked at Ms. Morgan with an evil grin. "No, actually I don't. Why don't you show me?"

The older Heather smiled back just as evilly. "Fine. Christine, first off, if we're going to do this the slow way, I think it's time you show the class some pussy."

Several of the students, especially some of the male ones, let out a loud whoop.

Christine's tears had stopped flowing, but she still blushed all the way down to her chest. She got up from where she was bent over the teacher's desk, but kept her back to the class and tried to protect her ass. Somehow that just made the view that much more attractive. She stood as she'd been sitting, with her legs together.

But Ms. Morgan barked, "Christine, what am I always telling the girls in this class? How does a proper Alan bitch stand for inspection?"


Christine muttered, "Damn you all!" But she reluctantly put her hands above her head.

The teacher barked, "Wider! Wider!"

So she slowly spread her legs one foot apart, then two, then even a bit more. Some wisps of her pussy hair could be seen by Alan and the rest of the class through the large space between her legs. Her breasts were so big that everyone could see a bit of those on each side, even though she still had her back to the class. The only items she still had on were her shoes and socks.

Ms. Morgan whistled in appreciation while she continued to absentmindedly stroke Alan's slick and slippery erection with her other hand. The class hooted and hollered at Christine even more.

"Let's get this show on the road!" the older Heather complained. "We can't have every class be an hour-long Alan fuckfest. I do have to teach you all something at some point, you know." But her protests seemed to have no effect on anyone, as everyone knew that an hour-long Alan fuckfest was exactly what was going to happen.

The teacher bitched, "Now, before we all grow old and die, turn around and take your shoes and socks off already!"

Christine turned her head and looked at Ms. Morgan uncertainly. "Turn around?"

Alan was surprised to see that her face was still completely splattered with cum. It looked like four or five big cum loads slowly dripping down. But then he remembered what he had done and how much more there had been before she'd wiped so much off and licked it into her mouth. Long strands dangled off her chin, her cheeks, ears, hair - everywhere.

"You heard me."

At first, the class was dead silent and the only sound that could be heard was the teacher's hands sloshing all over Alan's well-lubricated pole.

But then Christine began to turn around. A great cheer and even more clapping rose up from the excited class.

Christine modestly kept one arm crossed over her tits and a hand over her bush. As she turned, she looked down bashfully, and that caused a seeming river of cum to pour off of her face and onto her chest.

But Ms. Morgan was impatient. She commanded, "Don't make me get the ruler!" Normally she would have gotten the ruler and slapped it down on the desk just because she loved to do that, but this time she hoped she wouldn't have to let go of Alan's warm hard-on to do so.

Christine quickly dropped her arms. Suddenly all of her frontal charms were on full display.

Alan took a good long look at her from head to toe, while his teacher continued to accentuate his enjoyment with her handjob as she stood next to him. Ms. Morgan had turned to the side, so she could keep Christine, Alan, and the class all in view at the same time.


Alan's eyes were torn between looking at Christine's pussy or her tits, but the urge to see her pussy won out. It was easy to see everything down there because she'd remembered to keep her legs apart after turning around. He noticed a lot of glistening moisture there, though she wasn't copiously flowing like most of the women he knew. He found her bush interesting. It was a bit wild and untrimmed. Somehow he found that fitting, as if it was something she'd never expected to show anyone, ever.

Christine's tits were fantastic. She had them cradled in one of her arms, which caused them to push together and out.

Ms. Morgan asked, "So, tell me great virgin, how do you feel right now?"

Christine was incredulous. "How do I feel?! You want to know how I feel?! I feel ashamed. Embarrassed! Utterly humiliated! What else do you expect?! Being naked in front of my classmates is horrible enough, but it's all this cum running down my face and chest that's really getting to me! UGH!"

The teacher pressed, "Is that all? Is that all you feel? What about the cum flowing down your thighs? Don't tell me that's from Alan too."

"Dammit, I'm only human! How can I not get aroused by his God damn horse cock and all this yummy cum?! But that doesn't make this right. You shouldn't treat me like this."

"I'll bet you want to taste it, taste more of it. I know how it is. Once you have some, you can't get enough. Well, go right ahead."

"No! No. Well, I suppose, er, I, uh, need to get cleaned up anyway..." There was a puddle of cum that formed at the top of her cleavage even as more cum ran down into the dark depths between her busty mounds. She looked at the puddle and brought her free hand to it, as if to wipe herself clean. But instead, she dipped her fingers into the puddle and brought the fresh cum to her lips. As she stared at Alan in lust and shame, she licked her fingers dry.

The teacher asked her, "Where are your manners?"

She blushed as she whispered, "Thank you for the cum, Alan." Both hands were actually fairly drenched in cum from when she'd wiped her face off before, and she continued to lick each finger and then the palm of her hand. She mumbled to herself, "It's still warm! I can't believe it's so warm!"

Rather than reply to her, Alan simply reached out and hoist up both of Christine's breasts with his two hands, as if he owned them. He was so close to her that he didn't need to step forward at all.

Ms. Morgan smiled as she watched him play with Christine's large orbs. She had two hands on Alan's thickness, but neither hand stood any chance of reaching all the way around it. She longed to see Alan cover Christine with another massive load, so her fists fairly flew into a blur as she stroked him with abandon.

The class continued to cheer as Alan mauled Christine's bouncy fun bags within sight of everyone. There were many lewd catcalls, surprisingly, more from the girls than the few boys there.

Alan thought he heard his sister's voice say, "Don't just play with 'em, fuck 'em already!"

Christine closed her eyes in shame again and gave the entire class the finger.

Alan thought, So at least she hadn't lost all of her feistiness. But it's kind of funny: her protests seem so ineffectual when her face is bathed in semen like that.

Christine looked up into Alan's eyes while he played with her tits. She moaned as she stared through narrow eyes with a intense lusty gaze. She didn't say anything, but the way she licked her lips and stared at Alan's stiff erection made her intentions clear enough, even if she was too proud to admit it.

Ms. Morgan barked, "Christine, what did I say about taking your shoes off already?"

Christine immediately bent forward and down, forcing Alan to let go of her nipples, which he'd only just begun to pull on. This caused another torrent of cum to drip off her face and land all over her, from the tips of her jutting breasts down to her legs. Her hair very nearly scraped the floor when she remained bent over, untying her shoes.

But then Ms. Morgan said, "No, bring your feet up instead of hiding your best bits. We're not done inspecting you."

Christine's whole body trembled as she obeyed the teacher. While she hated the public humiliation, it also seemed to turn her on more than she could even comprehend. She brought one foot to her crotch and reached down a bit to get to the laces, which caused her big tits to sag and wobble delightfully. Luckily she'd fallen back to sit on the edge of the desk or she would have had great trouble keeping her balance.

While she did that, she took the opportunity to complain to the teacher and the class, "You know, this is so unfair! I do not understand why everyone acts like Alan owns the school. So his cum tastes fantastic and his penis down your throat tastes even better. Okay. Fine. I can see that now. But does that give him the right to fuck every female in sight completely bareback, from the principal to half the teachers, to most of the student body? He's got over two dozen girls pregnant at this school alone already, including both of his sisters. Heck, even the principal is carrying one of his babies, and why? Just because he doesn't like to wear a condom? I think you're all mad!"

Ms. Morgan replied, "That's what I said too, once. But don't worry. You'll understand as soon as he's done fucking you and has filled your virgin pussy with cum."

"This is ridiculous!" Christine griped. But nonetheless, as soon as she finished untying her second shoe, her eyes locked on Alan's swaying stiff pole and she hungered at the sight.

Ms. Morgan looked at Christine's old sneakers, now tossed on the floor, and said, "Now that you're one of Alan's bitches, you have certain standards to uphold. I expect to see you in five inch heels from now on, is that clear?"

Christine dropped her head and nodded sullenly.


Heather stood proudly before the class in her naked glory. She'd immediately latched back onto his cock. With her back to Alan now, she pretended to pay attention to the class while slowly bringing his boner toward her asshole. As anally fixated as ever, she hoped to slide it up her butt and into her asshole before Alan could get started with Christine.

Alan jumped forward, then turned his head around and scolded, "Naughty, naughty, Ms. Morgan. You and your ass fixation. I think you need to go sit with the students for a while to remind you of your place around here."

She blanched. "But... naked? Whenever you do that to me, they get all grabby! I always end up having to suck off a cock or two, and you know how I detest that when it's not yours!"

He looked at her sternly. "Not my problem. I don't want to have to tell you twice."

She dropped her head and walked to the seat Christine had vacated. So many hands, mostly female, grabbed her all over that she was barely able to make it to the chair. She seemed truly disappointed and kept her attention focused on Alan.

With the teacher gone, Christine took advantage. Her hands flew to Alan's erection like they were magnetically attracted to it. It seemed like she was incapable of letting go long enough to hoist her big tits up and keep them up so he could slide his prick between them.

Alan was trying not to increase Christine's humiliation, but the gap between her words and her actions was so great that he couldn't help but ask, "I thought you didn't want to be a part of this?"

"Fuck you!" She growled. "Your cock is just too fucking tasty and amazing, you God damned fucker!" Still blushing deeply, she started cocksucking the tip and that seemed to give her enough pleasure to reposition herself for titfucking.

He looked out over the class as he climbed up on the table. Chairs had generally been pulled together and almost everyone had their hands in the laps of someone next to them. But with the exception of a few girls who had their faces in the lap of a boy, plus the one boy who now stood in front of Ms. Morgan with his cock down her throat, all eyes were aimed at the front of the class. He suspected that on other days the classes would erupt into full-blown orgies, but today interest was high to see Christine get fucked so people limited themselves sufficiently so they could still pay attention.

Alan settled himself onto Christine's stomach. His almost comically long erection grazed her lips. "So. You're finally ready to be one of my bitches, then?"

"Please don't make me answer that? Can't I just suck it some more? My God, I'm drowning in your cum, but I want more! More!" She leaned forward a bit, taking in much of his cockhead while licking it frantically.

"Sorry, I'm tired of your hypocrisy. It's time for you to admit how you really feel. I'll ask you again: do you want to be one of my bitches?"

"Dammit! YES!" As she answered, she continued to flick her tongue around his cockhead. "I'll admit it: I've been ready for ages! Why do you think I'm still a virgin? I've been waiting for YOU! I'd been expecting that you'd just take me against my will and deflower me just like you've done for so many others. I'm so frustrated that I finally had to do it this way. When it comes to you, when a woman says 'no', it means 'yes'. 'Yes', 'no', 'maybe', it all means 'yes'! Look at your success with women. There is no 'no'! Take who you want, when you want, wherever you want. Above all, take me! Take me into your inner harem, please! Fuck my tits and face already! I can't wait until you cover me in sperm and knock me up, just like all the rest!"

Alan looked over at Ms. Morgan. He hadn't noticed any protrusion in her belly.

But she had heard Christine mention "knock me up" and could somehow sense that Alan was looking at her. She pushed the boy who was face-fucking her away momentarily, and smiled endearingly at Alan. She rubbed her tummy and winked at him. All the while, hands from about four girls sitting nearby continued to roam all over her.

Alan was blown away by that, yet somehow he knew with complete certainly that he'd impregnated her. Then he looked out into the crowd again and noticed about five or six girls looking back at him, all of whom were ostentatiously rubbing their bellies too. Katherine and Amy had the biggest bellies of anyone, and both his sisters winked at him. Apparently, in this dream world, incest was not a problem.

Holy fuck! Is this right? The answer came to him quickly. Obviously! Clearly I have the most superior sperm here, so naturally I'm the only one allowed to get a woman pregnant in this school. That's how nature works with alpha males!

He looked back at Christine, who already had her hands on her boobs, pressing them in to make a nice fuck tunnel. It was a good thing her boobs were so big, because one needed a lot of flesh to make a tunnel for such a huge shaft. They were so soaked with his cum that lubrication certainly wouldn't be a problem either.

She nibbled and licked his cockhead, though she didn't dare to try to swallow it all again.

"Okay, Christine. You want my baby? Fine! But first I'm going to re-coat your face with a fresh new load!"

"Do it! I love it!"

He began to aggressively plow through her tit tunnel, but he took short strokes so she could keep most of his cockhead inside her lips at the same time. He noticed that she didn't just hold her mammaries in place so he could slide through, but she actively slid them back and forth to create even more pleasurable friction. Because her tits were so massive, it felt like he was fucking a twelve-inch deep vagina, except there was an actively cocksucking mouth at the other end of it.

God, she's good! Really good! I guess good things do come to those who wait. I think I'll make this a Christine day and do her in fourth period and sixth period, too! After all, she is going to be naked and dripping with cum all day. I'm going to dump load after load on her and in her, and order the others not to grope her too much between classes. She's my cum-covered bitch and she loves it!


Suddenly, Christine pulled back her mouth back and screamed, "Alan, I just came! Again! Fuck me forever! Forever!"

Just then, back in the real world, the bell rang. Alan was startled out of his fantasy.

He sat there for some long moments and tried to recapture where the daydream had left off. Oh, maaaaan! I was just really getting into the titfuck. Dang! And I wasn't even close to breaking her hymen. Rrrrgh!

He picked up his test and dropped it off at the teacher's desk, then walked out of the classroom. He held a book over his crotch so his erection and the wet spot it had caused through a slow leaking of pre-cum wouldn't show.

Well, as fantasies go, that was an odd one. I've never been into the whole pregnancy fetish before, so where the heck did that come from? I hope that doesn't mean anything in real life! Oh, I know. Simone and her stupid joking. But what if it isn't joking and I really did put a bun in her oven today? I would be totally fucked. Man, I've been so lucky lately. I've got to start wearing condoms, even at home. Shucks.

I've never dreamed of having a bigger dick, either. I'm perfectly fine with my oft-complimented real equipment, so what was that all about? They don't even have ones that big in porn flicks.

Alan didn't make the connection, but his penis in the dream was only a little bit larger and wider than the eleven-inch black dildo he saw Simone put into Heather's ass before school.

And that may have looked like Christine, but she didn't act like the true Christine at all. This was like a blow up sex doll version without any of the spunk or fire that I like so much. And it was weird what Christine was saying to me. It was almost like my subconscious was speaking to me directly, through her. "There is no 'no'. Take who you want, when you want, wherever you want. Above all, take me!" ... Damn, she was hot! How could I possibly turn her down in real life?!

Hmmm. That's definitely my id talking. My greedy side. Where's the other side? Where's the responsible superego? Where has that been today? I think I need to empty a cum load into someone. Whenever I finish cumming, I tend to see things more sensibly. Right now, I've got a major problem because I'm on major boner sexual overdrive and I don't have any way to relieve myself. In fact, now I get to go sit through Glory's class while I still have all these bizarre teacher fantasies running through my head.

Heather as a teacher? Ugh! Let's hope, for the sake of innocent children everywhere, that that never happens. Or Heather as a mother. That's so disturbing that I'm not even going to go there!


As Alan walked down the hall on his way to Glory's history class, he felt a hand fall onto his forearm. He spun around and tried to defend himself, instantly assuming that the football players were out to hurt him again.

But he breathed a sigh of relief because it was only Christine. She'd jogged down the hall to reach him; it looked like she was dealing with something very important and urgent. "Alan. I have someone you should meet."

Alan thought that was odd. He also found himself very embarrassed on the inside when he looked at the real flesh and blood Christine and thought about the over the top sexual fantasies he'd had about her only a few minutes earlier. As he stared, he could almost picture her naked, with his erection sliding through her deep cleavage. He stood dumbly, feeling greatly ashamed for his fantasies. It was like a cold bucket of reality had been dumped on his head.

"Cat got your tongue?" Christine asked as she held him by the forearm and pulled him along, gently. "Come on. Do you want to meet this person now or what?"

Alan's eyes watched her twin globes heave up and down in response to her jogging. When they finally came to a halt, he recovered his wits. "Oh. Uh. Sure. Let's go."

Christine was both secretly amused and chagrined by his big-tit fixation. She decided not to say anything about it this time though, since she was in a hurry.

He followed behind as Christine rushed down the hallway. While she'd worn a frumpy gray dress in his dreams, in reality she wore ordinary black slacks. He admired her legs, but more from what he remembered in the dream than what he could tell through her clothes.

He thought to himself, Christine, would it kill you to wear shorts for once in your life? Outside of when you play sports or go running you seem to think there's some law against baring your legs. And I know from stolen glances here and there that they look great. In fact, I'll bet her thighs are even stronger than Simone's! Man, I'd love to see these two in a cat fight! Whoa, take it easy, boy. Stop thinking about sex for like five minutes already! He stared at her slacks as if trying to burn a hole through them.

Christine turned back and asked him, "What's with you today? You've been spacing all day." She had to have been unaware of the staring he'd just been doing, unless she had eyes on the back of her head, and he guessed she was referring to all the other times he'd spaced out.

"I dunno. Not enough sleep today." He thought, Like I could ever tell her the truth: "I dunno Christine, it could be that I can't stop thinking about fucking your tits. And popping your cherry. Oh, and in my dreams my mother seems to be selling 'Incest-O-Matic', whatever the heck that is, and I might have made Simone pregnant, and my sister thinks she's a cat, and I'm about to have a wild sex orgy poker party tonight, and I seem to be losing what's left of my moral bearings... Oh, and did I mention that I'm fucking my mother and my sister, and that I now have two of each? Basically, there's a lot on my mind!" I don't think there's a single person who would believe what's happening in my life, even if I told them the full truth.

There wasn't much point in talking while they hustled down the hallway, so they were silent until suddenly Christine made a sharp turn and Alan found himself at the same stretch of empty hall he'd used to talk to Sean earlier. He didn't see anyone at first, but Christine led him to an alcove. A slightly mousy and bespectacled girl stood there waiting for him.

Christine brought Alan right in front of the new girl. "Alan, Michelle. Michelle, Alan. Michelle helps me get the scoop on things at school. She's got something to tell you."

Alan had no idea what to expect, but after so much strangeness in his life, he was ready to roll with the punches. He assumed it would somehow involve sex, given everything else that was happening, but for once he was wrong about that.

Michelle started in, "Um, okay. I've got this brother. His name is Gary. He's on the football team. I'm not that close to him. He and I are really different. But we're still family. Anyway, I was really surprised today when he sees me in the hall and he's all super keen on talking to me in private. So we talk... Are you getting all this? You look a little out of it."

"No. I'm good. Please keep going. I'm very interested."

"Um, okay. He tells me that some of the other football players are planning something. Did I mention Gary is gay? He is. He doesn't mind telling anyone, even though he gets a lot of grief from all the homophobes around here. Anyway, they're planning to do something to you. And somehow they wanted Gary to do something sexual to you. I didn't really understand it all. He was very, very vague. I kind of even inferred that much. He definitely doesn't want to do whatever they're doing, even though he hates your guts-"

"Wait a minute. Why does he hate my guts?"

"Duh! Just about everybody hates your guts."

"Really? Why?"

Michelle turned to Christine, who still stood next to them and generally kept a lookout while listening in. "Boy, Christine, didn't you tell him anything?"

Christine answered while she stared down the hall, "As you can see by looking at his frazzled face, lately he often doesn't even know if he's coming or going, much less what some football player he's never met thinks of him."

Michelle looked at Alan curiously while he tried to wipe whatever expression he had off his face and replace it with a normal look. She continued, "Anyway, nobody thought much of you one way or another until you started to go out with Amy. Then people thought that was pretty impressive, since most everyone thought you were a virgin and many think she's the most attractive girl in school, or at least the cutest. Then Amy started telling everyone that you were a great lover and that you slept with pretty much anyone you wanted and she didn't care. A lot of people were really impressed with you for like five minutes, but that quickly turned to jealousy for most. Especially guys. The football players hate you in particular because they know that you sleep with Heather a lot and she used to sleep with at least half the team, and now all of a sudden she doesn't anymore. So it's like twenty jealous boyfriends spurned, all out for revenge. Plus, everyone seems to think you have a ten-inch penis, even though it's really just a shade under eight. And a lot of guys are very jealous about that, too."

Alan looked at Christine. "How does she know all that? Especially that last part. That's very private!"


Christine gave a wry, conspiratorial smile. "She's good. But listen to the rest of her story." She smirked, thinking, It's true; he just confirmed it! Eight inches! Statistically speaking, that's very impressive.

Alan turned back to the mousy but not unattractive Michelle. (Between her dark glasses and her extremely baggy clothing, it was hard to tell what she really looked like.) He realized that in making that "very private" comment, he'd all but confessed the true length of his dick, but it was too late to take that back. It's not a big deal if anyone knows, but I'm not being my usual sharp self today. Focus, man, focus!

Michelle said, "Um, okay. So Gary really doesn't want to take part in whatever plan this is. They're going to go ahead without him. Even though he hates you, he doesn't want their plan to succeed. I think they're going to do something else involving homosexuality and he worries it'll reflect badly on him. Most of those players are so homophobic it's not even funny, and he naturally doesn't want it to get any worse if they witness homosexual acts firsthand."

"So he's going to help us stop them?" Alan asked hopefully.

"No. Not really. I'm sure he doesn't want his friends to think he's a snitch. I think he was trying to give me just enough information so I could do something to make sure the plan doesn't work, but not enough information to get his friends in trouble. I've saved his ass many times in the past and he thinks I can do it again."

"So wait. He knows you're talking to me?"

"No. He would probably be really angry at me if he knew about that. He was more coming to me for advice, trying to figure out how to get out of the jam he's in. He calls me a 'sharp cookie.' But he didn't really give me enough info for me to figure out what's going on. Does any of this make sense to you? Have you heard of some plot against you?"

"No. Well, in a general way I've known some of the guys on the team are out to get me. They've attacked me a couple of times, which I assume you might have heard about, since you know so much. But I never thought they'd go to the extreme of wanting to do... well, whatever it is they're doing. I don't know. But it doesn't sound good at all! Did he tell you anything else?"

"Nope. That's it. He didn't even tell me that much. He was more like, 'I've got this problem. Some football players want to use me to help get back at Alan. I don't care a rat's ass about that freakish nerd, but I don't want to help in the way they want me to. What do I do?' Those were pretty much his exact words. I inferred most of the rest and added what I already knew about you and him and his friends."

"Wow. Thanks, Michelle. Thanks a lot. Is there anything I can do to repay you for helping me out so much?"

There was a long pause, but finally Michelle just smiled and said, "Nope. Just be cool and stay safe. Watch your back."

"Okay. I will. Thanks again!"

"No problem!" Michelle waved, adjusted her glasses, then trotted off.

Alan mumbled to Christine, "So that's one of your team of 'Goody-goodies,' eh?"

In his mind, some dialogue from his dream ran though his head. First, his cry: "I'm going to re-coat your face with a fresh new load!" And then Christine's reply: "Do it! I love it!"

He wanted to crawl under a rock and die even as he failed to get the image of her face splattered with cum out of his mind. The sight of her mouth straining around his dream-enhanced, extra-huge penis also seemed permanently burned into his brain, even though it never happened in real life. If she only knew I'm a complete sexually-obsessed freak, she would run away from me as fast as her legs could carry her!

Christine visibly relaxed once Michelle was gone. She stayed where she was, looking down the hallway, but said to Alan, "I think we're okay. I didn't see a single person looking down the hallway."

"Well, if there could have been problems if someone saw me with Michelle, why didn't we meet in a safer location?"

"Because there's no time! Michelle is good at reading people, as you can tell. And she got the sense that something is going to happen really soon. Maybe even later today."

"Oh shit. What should I do?"

Christine looked him in the eyes. "I've noticed that the number of your male friends has fallen off to almost zero lately, and all of them are just fair weather friends except for Sean and maybe Peter. So I'm going to follow you around as much as I can. Get Amy and Katherine to help, too. Actually, it's much better to have females with you, because other guys they can punch, but girls they won't know what to do with. Hopefully they have some decency and the presence of a female may give them second thoughts. Plus, us girls are really good at screaming for help." She smiled as she added that last point.

He smiled in gratitude, but then the full meaning of everything she said hit him. "Wow, you don't pull your punches, do you? That's pretty harsh about my male friends."

"Hey, I call them as I see them," she replied with a shrug. "Don't you want me to be honest with you?"

He thought, I don't even want to begin to imagine how many new holes she'd tear into me if I told her about my titfucking fantasy. She may have a thing for me, but I'm sure her fantasies are nothing like mine! He thought sarcastically, Her fantasies probably have a little more of candles and moonlight and soft music, and a little less of titfucking on a desk in front of all your classmates.

Snapping back to attention, he nodded.

She said, "You're a sitting duck! You need protection, unless you want to get your butt kicked. You need somebody to help you who has serious fighting ability."

He stood there trying to figure out who that could be.

Annoyed at his inability to draw the obvious conclusion, she added, "For instance, someone with some serious martial arts training."

A light bulb went off in his head. "Hey. If I remember right, don't you take martial arts classes a couple of times a week?"

She gave a bashful yet proud smile. "Yeah. I guess I do." Finally, he figures it out. Sheesh! I swear, his IQ falls by half around busty women.


Then, dramatically, she stepped back and kicked the air a couple of times. He thought it was a highly impressive display of martial arts prowess. One of her kicks was so high that it could have smashed his nose.

He imagined several very stunned football players falling to the ground after being on the receiving end of kicks like that. He was also impressed with the fierce passion with which she delivered the kicks, a passion that seemed to come out of nowhere and then disappeared just as quickly when the kicks were over.

She turned back to him and said with a casual smile, "Looks like you've got yourself a bodyguard."

"Looks like." He smiled back. "God, Christine, you're a total lifesaver. That may even become true in a very literal way if I get attacked. You and your remarkably knowledgeable and perceptive friends! Amazing. 'We're good at screaming for help,' my ass! I want to know just one thing, though. How did Michelle know about my real penis size, and just how widespread is that knowledge?"

"That was actually from Kim the cheerleader. A bunch of girls were sitting around gossiping about your supposed ten-incher, and she said, 'No, it's not! It's only seven and seven-eighths inches.' That seemed curiously specific, and I understand she seemed embarrassed afterwards for letting that slip out, so one of my friends told me about it and I filed it away as being the probable truth. Statistically, it's much, much more likely than the larger number. But most everyone still seems to believe the ten-incher rumor. As an aside, you do seem to have a lot of, how shall we say, intimate friends, don't you? Just how many of these 'helpers' have you got?"

He blushed. He was surprised at how often he'd blushed that day. It just seemed to be one of those days. I knew she was notorious for speaking her mind, but I didn't realize that even extended to talking so freely about the size of my dick. And my "intimate friends." Jesus! Talking to her is actually a bit scary because there's no telling what she might say next. AND it looks like she could totally physically kick my ass. I sure don't want to cross her!

He ignored her last question and replied to the first one. "Yeah. I guess I do. Thanks again. How can I repay you for your kindness?" He was so frazzled and busy thinking that he didn't even notice she had her hand over her mouth and was blushing profusely.

She had a bad habit of speaking first and only realizing the consequences of her words later. She could scarcely believe that she was actually talking to Alan about his penis size and eagerly leapt at his changing of the subject. She shook her head dismissively while looking away. "Stop saying that. You ever hear of people just being nice because it's the right thing to do and because they care?"

"Unfortunately, not too often. But in your case, I could never doubt your sincerity. So what do we do now, chief?"

"You hurry to your next class. I hear you've been doing that a lot today, and not always successfully, I might add. When class is over, just linger in your classrooms for a minute or so, and I'll be there to escort you to the next one. I can't always make it, but when I can't we'll find you a substitute or two. Actually, Sean is fairly buff; he's almost as muscular and handsome as you. He'd make a good bodyguard, so you should get his help. Sorry if I harshed on your friends, by the way." She still tried to hide her face and her embarrassment.

He thought, She knows I was late to first period and that I was talking to people in the halls and barely making it to class on time. Just how much else does she know about me?! Could she even be aware of what I was doing to Heather and Simone before school? She's got this whole friggin' "Goody-goody" spy network. Dang! That network could definitely be a double-edged sword for me. What if they overhear my loose-lipped sisters make some kind of incestuous comment to each other or to someone in-the-know like Kim, and word gets back to Christine? I don't even want to think about it.

He also made note of the way she dropped the "handsome" compliment in there. She's blunt and yet she can be subtle, too. I can't say I really understand her, but I sure would like to get to know her better. Making love to the real Christine would be infinitely more interesting than making love to the meek living-sex-doll version of Christine in my daydreams. Shame on me for ever thinking of her like that.

But he merely said to her, "No problem. Thanks. Again. Wow. You're great." Without even thinking, he gave her a hug. But just as unexpectedly, he pulled away.

She shot him a frustrated look that he interpreted to mean, Then why, Alan, don't you want to be my boyfriend?

He didn't know how to respond to that, so the two of them warily headed to his next class. He had visions of getting gang raped by a bunch of football players who could leap out at him from the shadows at any moment. There was an attack coming, and there really was nothing anyone could do to stop it until it happened. It was almost worse to know a little than to know nothing at all. For the first time in his life, he was truly afraid.


Alan went to Glory's fourth-period class feeling extremely frazzled. He felt that there had been too many exciting events for him during the day and too much excitement in recent days as well. He also knew that as much as had happened to him already, he still had most of the day ahead of him. The possibility that the football players could attack him at any moment and might well attack him before the school day was over was particularly stressful for him.

Sexually, he was exhausted and wanted a break, yet his Christine fantasies had been keeping him in a near-constant state of arousal for over an hour. What he really wanted to do was to empty his balls, at the first opportunity, in a warm and receptive female.


With all this going on in his head, he had little to no thought of Glory. But as soon as he entered her classroom and took one look at her, all that changed. It was a sunny day, and radiant beams of light were falling through the windows onto her face, making her look breathtakingly gorgeous, even angelic.

Then she turned to him and gave him a heartwarming smile. It would be more accurate to call it a heart-melting smile.

He felt so overwhelmed by her love, kindness, and attention that he felt like she'd turned him into a puddle of goo. He felt a surge of emotion and mentally cried in frustration, Ohhhh Gaawwwd! No!

Suddenly, all of his other problems didn't matter one bit. He even temporarily set aside any thoughts of the other women in his life. Now, all of his focus was on Glory.

Class started and Glory began to teach, but Alan barely heard a word she said. His erection had gone down and he was very thankful for that. He wasn't actually aroused by Glory at the moment despite her stunning looks; he was more emotionally moved by her presence. Looking at her brought a peace and calm to his mind and body that he badly needed.

Despite the fact that the state of their relationship was up in the air, he strongly believed that no matter what happened she would be there for him if he needed her, and he would be there for her. Regardless of how their romantic future turned out, he was determined to do whatever it took to at least keep her as a friend and mentor. She was a rock of sanity for him in the increasingly stormy sea that was his high school life.

But Glory would have found the idea of anyone calling her a "rock of sanity" bitterly ironic, because she felt as if she was about to completely lose her mind. When she saw Alan enter her classroom, she also felt a surge of strong emotion. She could tell that he was stressed and troubled, and she gave him the most encouraging smile she could muster under the circumstances. She wanted to hold him for a long time until he was okay. But she wanted to do more than just hold him - much more.

As Glory's students settled into their seats, she thought, God, how I want to hug him! But a supportive hug like that would lead to a kiss. And a kiss would lead to some heavy necking with lots of tongue. That would lead to some serious petting. I can just imagine him quickly making short work of whatever clothes I might be wearing while I wrap a leg around him. He isn't much for women wearing clothes, I've gathered. However, he's a bit crazy when it comes to breasts. His hands would be all over my chest before I'd know what was happening and there would be no way of stopping him.

But then again, who would WANT to stop him?! He's so good! The way he can make love to a woman's breasts with his fingers ... and tongue! Good Lord, that tongue! That feels so good that there's just no way I'm going to keep my hands out of his pants. What kind of woman has that kind of control? His fingers would be slipping inside of my- Oh! I can't even think about it! To think that I could be holding his hot, cum-filled cock in my dainty fingers, that throbbing, talented, tasty...! Arrgh! Stop it! Glory, stop it right now!

She snapped out of her sexual thoughts as the last student came inside and found his seat. You see? This is why I have to take a 100% firm no-touching policy. Alan is like sexual crack and I'm going through some serious withdrawal. It's been a couple of days since we broke up and each day gets worse as my body craves another Alan fix more and more. Right now I'm at my most vulnerable.

Just a couple more days and these feelings should pass and I'll be able to get over him. With the four-day Thanksgiving vacation starting tomorrow, I'll get over this hump and be back on track, just so long as I can make it through the rest of the school day without touching him. I really should just skip our lunch hour together, but just look at him. He needs to talk. He seriously needs to talk. Something's wrong. I can't abandon him in his time of need.

Feeling empowered with that resolution, Glory began to teach. At first, she did okay. But after a while the lesson necessitated she go up to the chalkboard and start writing on it. This was troublesome and dangerous for her, because once again she'd failed to wear any underwear. Alan had offhandedly told her some days before not to wear underwear anymore. She didn't understand why, but she continued to follow this order even though she was fairly certain that he had forgotten all about it.

Furthermore, she had dressed about as provocatively as she thought she could get away with without causing tongues to wag. She let a lot of cleavage show, but it was at the outer bounds of what she'd worn in the past. Since she wasn't wearing a bra, the fabric rubbed her nipples delightfully every which way whenever she moved. And because Alan was in the room, her nipples were hard and had been protruding ever since her fourth-period class began. Fortunately, she wore a dark maroon satin blouse; otherwise, her nipples would have been obvious to everyone.

But while she'd shown a lot of cleavage before, she'd never worn a skirt as short and tight as the one she wore today. Since she wasn't wearing any panties, she was taking a great risk. If she had to bend over for any reason, or even casually sit on the front edge of her desk as she sometimes did while lecturing, she'd expose all of her naked privates to the entire class. Her teaching career might come to a sudden halt right there.

But she couldn't keep herself from dressing like that because she was of two minds. She wanted to both push Alan away and pull him towards her. She'd had mixed feelings about men and boyfriends before, but nothing like this. It was like her brain was splitting in two and heading at full speed in opposite directions.

She'd gone to a sex shop the previous afternoon and bought a variety of sex toys to augment the one dildo she already owned. Then she spent the rest of the afternoon and evening alternating between bouts of frenzied masturbation and periods of relative sanity and resolve. She tried to argue that "overdosing" on fantasies about Alan would help her get over him, but she wasn't sure anymore if that was true or not. She even had some of her new toys in her purse at the moment, "just in case," and she wasn't sure about the wisdom of that either.


Because of what she chose to wear (or not wear), walking around in front of the class and writing on the chalkboard were very arousing acts for her. She imagined, and almost hoped, that her skirt had ridden up so much that her pussy was completely exposed. In her fantasy, at any moment someone would notice her lack of panties and publicly expose her. Of course in reality complete disaster would follow, but in her addled state she was just getting off on the danger.

She managed to carry on this way for twenty minutes or more, but she found herself growing more and more aroused as she began to purposely walk more than necessary, just to increase the danger and feel a slight breeze blowing on her moistening pussy lips. If her skirt rode up only a couple more inches, her fantasy would become real.

Finally, there came a point when a voice inside her head began to dare her to drop a piece of chalk and bend down to pick it up. She recognized at that moment that she'd become too horny to teach effectively, so she cut the lesson short and handed out an in-class assignment.

That allowed her to go to the relative safety of sitting behind her desk where she hoped to cool down, but in fact she didn't cool down at all. Her imagination was in overdrive.

She thought, That was close! What's gotten into me?! I mean, the very idea of bending over to pick up the chalk - it's outrageous! To think what could have happened. There I'd be, bending over so I could touch my toes, my pussy exposed for everyone to see. Not only that, but this skirt is so short that it would ride up and my entire ass would be on display! Of course, knowing Alan would be watching, merely exposing myself like that wouldn't be enough. I'd have to fumble around for who knows how many minutes, trying and failing to scoop up the chalk, all the while spreading my legs farther and farther apart, for him!

I'm sure the room would go dead quiet at first. Or maybe there would be some gasps. Screams, even. People would begin to shout helpful things like, "Ms. Rhymer, cover up!" Some of the more naughty boys would shout ruder things, like "Hoo-yeah!" I'll bet Jeremy would yell, "There is a God!" He loves that saying and I know he has a crush on me. Hee-hee.

But that wouldn't even be the half of it. If I've gone that far, why stop there? It's time for everyone to know Alan has turned me into his personal slut! I'd stand back up but fail to readjust my skirt so it would still tightly cling to my hips and keep my pussy in full view, giving everyone a great frontal shot. Faking a confused look, I'd go sit on the edge of my desk, putting my pussy on even better display! Heck, I'd hike my skirt up a bit more before sitting down, just to make sure they saw everything!

And what would they see? They'd see rivers, and I do mean absolute rivers, of feminine juices flowing down my thighs, because that's how hot I'd be! "I'd be"? Heck, that's how hot I am right now! I'm squirming in my seat so bad that it's a wonder no one has noticed yet! It's like the chair is burning at 120 degrees or more; there's no way I can sit still! Maybe I should get my purse and take out one of the... nah. Keep it cool, Glory. Keep it cool. Relax.

Just imagine, I'd be sitting there on the edge of the desk, cool as a cucumber, pretending like nothing's wrong. My privates on display for everyone to see. For ALAN to see!

Hee! So naughty! But of course the class would be in a total commotion by then. Complete bedlam! Before too long, someone would be bound to get bolder and say something like, "Ms. Rhymer, your skirt! It's exposing... well... We can see your pussy and everything!"

That's when I'd REALLY throw them for a loop. Rather than pull my skirt down, I'd actually pull it up even more! Then I'd say, "My pussy? You must be mistaken. I don't have a pussy. This isn't mine. This is Alan's pussy." I'd wink in his direction, and stud that he is, he'd take it in stride and wink back.

Then, the incredible fuck god that he is, he'd have to come to the front of the class and whip out that eighteen-incher in front of everybody! Hee! ... Did I say eighteen? I think I did, 'cos that's what it feels like most of the time when it's inside me! So FULL! So GOOOOD! Anyway, he'd whip out that marvelous eight-incher and take what's his! He'd show everyone that we're lovers, and in the most graphic terms imaginable! He'd fuckin' slip his huge sausage right into my tight cunt, in front of the whole class! My pussy was made to perfectly fit his cock, and that's just a plain fact! Let everyone know! I don't care!


Oh God! Glory bit her lip so hard it nearly bled. She was fidgeting wildly in her chair now, as if she really was sizzling on a burning chair. Not only could she vividly imagine Alan fucking her, her body could almost feel it.

Or, more properly, it's not so much that we're lovers as it is that I belong to him! Gloria Rhymer, one of your students, a mere eighteen year old boy, owns your pussy! And the rest of your body, for that matter. Hell, he owns your heart, your mind, and even your SOUL! Dear Lord God, this devilish boy owns my very soul! It's like I made a deal with the devil and I LOVE IT! Young man, what I wouldn't give to share another role-play fantasy with you, right now! Alan, get your glorious ass up here and fuck your teacher like you mean it! Show everyone our forbidden love, you demon of lust! Do me now! Do me hard! YES!

Glory abruptly stopped and stood up. She looked at the class to see if anyone had noticed her strange behavior, the way she was rocking and shaking in her chair. Luckily, she'd given the students such a difficult assignment that they were completely consumed with their task. Not even Alan had given her a second glance.

She slumped down a bit and sighed with relief. Phew! I have to be thankful my luck has held out once again. What am I doing taking these kinds of risks? And saying Alan owns my body? What's gotten into me? Not Alan lately, ha ha! She had to stifle the urge to laugh like a maniac at that joke.

She stood there for a few moments until her body stopped trembling, then she made her way to the door, making sure to take her purse with her. Luckily, her students were still so hard at work that there were no more than a few brief glances up. Most of the people who paid her any mind were habitual cheaters who were happy to see she'd be gone for a few minutes so they could look at the papers on nearby desks.

Glory hobbled her way down to the ladies' room, eager to achieve the "big O." The fact that she was hobbling was interesting as well, because she was wearing four-inch heels for the first time in her life, and didn't really know why. Or at least she wouldn't normally admit why, but as she headed to the restroom, she thought, Fuck these shoes. I hate these shoes! But I'm wearing these cruel shoes for him! HIM! I want him to notice me, to look at me! How can I compete with the likes of Suzanne or Heather? It's impossible! I have to do more! I have to please him MORE somehow!

The thought of Alan's other lovers suddenly made her very depressed. It made her feel as if all her words and fantasies were desperate and pathetic. But she was so close to a climax she couldn't stop now.

As she sat in a bathroom stall shoving a vibrator in and out of her pussy, she couldn't get the thought of Alan's other women out of her head. She knew that she was not his most loved woman. In fact, she instinctually felt that she might rank no better than somewhere in the middle of his long list of women. On the other hand, she knew that her "list" of the men she lusted after and adored had just one name on it: "Alan Plummer."


These thoughts were so depressing that she began to cry even as she climbed up to a great climax. The fact that she knew he was having sex with at least three women gorgeous enough to be movie stars, Amy, Suzanne, and Susan, aroused her terribly, while at the same time the very same thought depressed her profoundly. She cried both tears of joy and sorrow as a powerful climax hit her and nearly overwhelmed her into unconsciousness.

She took a while after that to recover and clean herself up. As she reapplied her makeup in the bathroom mirror, she found herself in a different mood. Well. That was something. Completely irresponsible of course, that I'm here pleasuring myself instead of teaching my class. But all in all, it was probably a good thing, a necessary thing. I've been feeling something like that coming on all day. It was good that I got it out of my system BEFORE lunch or I wouldn't have had the self-control to resist Alan when I was with him one on one. Now, I feel like I can make it. Not only that, but I'm reminded so powerfully why I have to get away from him. I will NOT settle for third place or fifth place or whatever he thinks I am. No way. No. Damn. Way. Period! If I can just make it through lunch, I'll be home free!

She was in a much better mood after that. She came back to her class mentally alert and in control of herself once more.

Alan was in a fairly good mood by then as well. He was actually grateful for the in-class assignment because it made him forget everything else for a little while.

Thus, when class ended and everyone filed out until just Alan was there, Alan and Glory were able to meet each other on levelheaded terms, with neither one of them particularly aroused.

Alan had a lot to discuss with her, particularly about his recent football player woes. However, he still felt distraught and overwhelmed. He stood up and said, "Glory, could I have a hug? I really need it."

Glory thought back to her very recent fantasies and her "100% firm no touching" policy, and said, "I know you do, and believe me I'd love to give it to you ... but we can't. Remember what we agreed to on Monday? Things are going to be completely platonic between us. That's how it has to be. Until things kind of settle down, I'd rather not even hug you because I'm afraid of a slippery slope. But please. Tell me what's bothering you. From the moment you came into class I could see that something is very wrong."

Disappointed, but understanding why he couldn't get a hug, he sat back down and began to tell her about his day.

NOTE: Thanks to the suggestions and corrections of OmegaZone, IBT, NightShadow, DD, Alzrius, Jaydee, Hermit, WD40, Lee, BigWooSon, Sacbob, Mutant for Hire, Sam.I.am, Random Zero, and Geezer. Again, an extra huge and special thanks to IBT for extensive help.

A special thanks goes to YamiBoy for colorizing existing illustrations. And finally, an extra special thanks to Sam.I.am for coordinating and processing all of the proofreading input.

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