Please, Miss! You're on my cock!
It was a geography trip to a local forest to show us how deciduous trees grow, or some such shite. The only good thing about it was that our geography teacher was Miss Miller, at 23 not improbably older than us and every 17 year-old's fantasy. Her tits are burned in my memory even now.

As it was a sixth form thing, the school didn't hire a coach but a minibus. One problem: there weren't enough seats, and as Miss Miller was the last to board, she had nowhere to sit.

"One of you lads is going to have to sit on another," she said. This was soundly rejected as nobody wanted to endure a lifetime of homosexual jibes. So she said, "OK, I'm going to have to sit on your lap, Frankspencer." And she did.

By Christ she had a soft arse! And as she wriggled it to get comfortable, I felt little Frank becoming rigid. After a very short time, so did she. But she wasn't about to mention it in front of everyone else. Indeed, she didn't get up or show any sign of embarrassment. She started to rub against it.

At first, I thought it was accidental, but when she opened her legs a little and pushed her hips back to position herself precisely on my bulging tip, I guessed otherwise. Back and forth she rubbed until I could control myself no longer and filled my boxers with molten jis.

As we prepared to disembark from the minibus, she whispered in my ear with hot breath, "That'll teach you not to get up for a lady" and tripped off to explain about photosynthesis - as cold ejacualte trickled down my thigh.
(frankspencer, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 14:59, Reply)