Teacher's Golden Rule
by Littlemissblair
On my eighteenth birthday my Mother threw a surprise party for me. She invited all of my close friends as well as my favorite high school teacher, Mrs. Oliver.
It was a wonderful day and the world seemed so conquerable to me. Little did I know this day would eventually change my life forever.
When the party ended and everyone gone, I gave my Mother a big hug, thanking her for such a nice gesture. It was typical of my her… she and Dad had been spoiling me my entire life.
After carrying some of my gifts up to my room, I went into the upstairs bathroom. To my surprise, there, sitting on the commode was my teacher, Mrs. Oliver. Thinking all the guest had departed, I was momentarily startled. I stood just inside the door, completely taken aback… and naturally, quite embarrassed.
Apparently she wasn’t bothered by my intrusion al all as she looked up at me and smiled. Suddenly I heard the familiar hiss of peeing. I stood there, frozen, her urinating seemingly going on forever.
When she finished, she stood, faced me, and pulled up her panties. She did not wipe herself and my eyes became riveted to a large wet spot that immediately spread over the crotch of her panties.
It apparently didn’t go unnoticed by her that I appeared mesmerized. She adjusted her skirt, stopped momentarily as she walked by me, and wished me a happy birthday.
—-
Over the next several weeks this small, insignificant incident seemed to plague me… I was constantly playing it over and over in my mind. I couldn’t understand why the image of her peeing remained so vivid to me. Even more disconcerting was the sexual connotations I seemed to place on it… that I was getting these stirrings every time I thought about it.
Eventually, other things began occupying my mind, like graduation, my prom dress, and most importantly, my choice of college.
That would have probably been the end of it had I not ran into Mrs. Oliver the last day of school.
“Did you pick a college yet Sarah,” she inquired.
“Yes, yes I did. I’m going to Baldwin University.”
“Really,” she gave me a look of amazement. “That’s my alma mater. I’m going back there in two weeks to work on my Masters Degree. I’ve been doing most of my work over the Internet but my testing has to be in person.”
“Oh wow, that’s cool,” I said. “Maybe when you get back I can ask you some questions about the school.”
“You know,” she said thoughtfully. “You should go with me. I’ll only be there for ten days which would give you plenty of time to get the feel of the campus. You could stay with me… it wouldn’t cost you anything. I really think you’d have a good time… there’s swimming, hiking, and you could meet some of the professors. There’s no doubt in my mind you would really enjoy it.”
“You won’t believe this Mrs. Oliver,” I exclaimed excitedly. “This is like so weird… I’ve been trying to talk Mom into taking some time off from work and drive me up there for a few days. She’s been so busy though, she didn’t think she would be able to get the time off.”
“Well you’re more than welcome to go with me,” Mrs. Oliver said.
“I’ll have to clear it with my parents but it shouldn’t be a problem,” I said enthusiastically. “I’m sure Mom will be happy… she won’t have to listen to me bugging her almost every day.”
Mrs. Oliver stepped into one of the classrooms and grabbed a blank piece of paper. She wrote down the particulars of her trip, like the date she was leaving and the date of her return. She even had the phone number of the dorm room where she was staying… information my Mother would certainly require so she could check on her little girl every other day.
Just as I thought, Mom was overjoyed when I told her about Mrs. Oliver’s invitation. She liked Mrs. Oliver and thought this was an excellent opportunity for me. It also took her off the hook, especially the guilt of not being able to take me herself.
The night before leaving with Mrs. Oliver my dad gave me $300 for expenses. He absolutely spoils me… his baby girl.
The next morning Mrs. Oliver was right on time. As we loaded my suitcase into her car, I tried not to be conspicuous while grabbing quick glances at her when she wasn’t looking.
I had really never seen her dressed so casually before and was amazed by her near perfect body. She was wearing short shorts and a halter top… her large breast nearly falling out when she leaned over to pick up my bag.
“You look nice this morning,” she said hesitantly. “Listen, I need to say this… I don’t know if your Mother has mentioned this to you or not… you can probably expect a barrage of remarks from people regarding your age. And especially from some of the professors. My god girl, you look like you’re thirteen or fourteen years old. You hardly look any different than you did when I had you in my class in Junior High.”
I didn’t like to be reminded of my little girl looks. I knew I appeared much younger than I was… I wished I looked more my age. Mom tried to tell me aging comes quick enough and I should be thankful. Sometimes though, I tired of being small and cutesy petite. It certainly wasn’t something I could change.
Thanks,” I murmured. I was embarrassed by her compliment… She was dressed so provocative I felt about as young as I looked. She laughed at my uneasiness… everything suddenly felt alright.
The trip was an eight hour drive. We stopped for lunch about half way, one of those road side restaurant… more like a truck stop it seemed to me. After being seated, Mrs. Oliver excused herself to the ladies room. My birthday party encounter came back to me and I suddenly felt uncomfortable… still not understanding why the image of her in the bathroom excited me.
Her first remarks upon returning to the table… it was eerie…
“Remember your birthday party when you walked in on me in the bathroom?” she asked with a smile.
“Yes, I remember. I was totally embarrassed. I… I thought you had gone… you really startled me. I was caught completely off guard.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have been embarrassed,” she said. “Actually, I’ve always thought peeing was sort of exciting, sexually that is. Weird, huh.”
I didn’t respond because, well I didn’t really know what to say. I was flabbergasted she would admit such a personal viewpoint to a student… well, a former student.
Fortunately the subject was dropped and we went on to talk about other things. Thank god… I didn’t feel like being weirded out… especially within the first five hours of a ten day trip!
We arrived on the University campus late in the evening and immediately checked into the dorm where we were staying. We were both dead tired and couldn’t wait to get to bed. Tomorrow was going to be a beautiful day.
The next morning, while Mrs. Oliver was off to her classes, I walked the entire campus trying to absorb the college atmosphere. I did manage the courage to approach a few summer students, and for being upperclassmen, were quite pleasant and friendly to me. But, just as Mrs. Oliver had predicted, they were totally amazed at my age. Even one professor they introduced me to had a difficult time believing I was old enough to attend a university.
That evening I met Mrs. Oliver back at our room. We went out to dinner, watched a little television… both of us were in bed by ten.
By the fourth day I was getting bored. Other than lying by the pool and working on a tan there wasn’t a lot to do. Even Mrs. Oliver, after attending class all day, seemed to be tense and short tempered in the evening.
Sometime during the middle of the night of our fifth day I got up to go to the bathroom. I didn’t purposely leave the door open, I just didn’t close it. I did, however, refrain from flushing the toilet so I wouldn’t disturb Mrs. Oliver’s sleep.
As I crawled back into bed Mrs. Oliver startled me by saying, “That sounded lovely Sarah. Did you not flush for my benefit?”
“Yes,” I said. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Oh, I see,” she said.
She then arose from bed, went into the bathroom, closing the door. She was in there for a long time, finally returning to bed.
“Thanks Sarah, I needed that,” she said quietly.
Within minutes she was fast asleep, leaving me wide awake, trying to make sense out of her statement. Why in the world would my going to the bathroom sound lovely? Why was she in there so long? What was she thanking me for?
I had this strange feeling we were entering a different level of relationship, Mrs. Oliver and I, but I had no idea what it was.
When I arose in the morning, Mrs. Oliver had left a note for me. The note said she was going out with some friends after her last class and not to wait up for her. I suddenly became very angry. My days alone were becoming tedious… I looked forward to her company in the evening. Now she was going to leave me alone at night as well!
I was surprised by my strong feelings, my anger… my jealously.
So my day began the same… laying by the pool, go to lunch, walk around the campus. When evening came I ordered a pizza delivered and watched television. It was after midnight when I became concerned about her. I couldn’t understand why she would worry me by staying out this late. I had assumed her note meant she was going out to dinner with friends… why would she be out past midnight?
About 1:00 am, while out on our second floor balcony watching for her, a cab pulled up in front of the dorm. The driver, a young Asian girl leaped out of the cab and opened the back door. She was helping an obviously drunk Mrs. Oliver from the vehicle! I could tell by her stumbling around she was inebriated.
The driver helped her up on the sidewalk. “Can you make it to your room?” I heard the Asian girl say.
“Yea, yea, I’m alright,” Mrs. Oliver blubbered. “Come here you little bitch, give me a kiss before you go.”
I watched in total disbelief! The Asian girl and Mrs. Oliver locked in a passionate embrace… I could hear their moans all the way to the second floor. They groped at each other’s bodies in a such a vulgar, distasteful way, I was embarrassed to even know her. The driver, finally pulling away, climbed back into her cab and left. Mrs. Oliver, reeling, made it to the front door of the dorm and entered.
I was appalled by what I had just witnessed, what I had heard! On the other hand, I experienced a weird sort of excitement, a front row seat to an adult dark side I didn’t know existed. I went to the front door of our room, opened it and waited for her to get off the elevator across the hall. When the door opened, there she stood, her khaki slacks soaked from her crotch to her knee’s!
This was getting weirder by the minute… she had apparently peed her pants!
“Sarah, baby,” she slurred as she approached the door to the room. “You’re still up. I thought you would be in bed by now.”
I held her by her arm and led her to the bed where she collapsed, passing out into unconsciousness.
I stared down at her for the longest time, not knowing what was expected of me. Should I just leave her there? Should I undress her, put her to bed?
I removed her shoes and socks and loosened the belt to her slacks. She still looked uncomfortable, as well as messy.
I couldn’t leave her like that. I unbuttoned her slacks, and with some difficulty, finally removed them. Her skimpy, bikini panties were soaking wet. My hands trembled as I stripped them from her, my heart pounding from excitement.
Her private parts were completely shaved. My reaction shocked me… I thought how clean it looked, how enticing, and I had this overwhelming urge to smell it!
I quickly put those sick thoughts out of my mind. I just wanted to do the right thing, clean her up and get her to bed.
I retrieved a towel from the bathroom and dried her legs. Very tenderly I dabbed at the V between her legs, but when she let out a moan, I quickly pulled the towel away. I checked, she was still passed out. I tried drying her again. This time when she moaned I continued cleaning her.
I wasn’t very knowledgeable about sexual things, but I wasn’t stupid. I could see her moans were a result of the friction of the towel, and even in her unconscious state, she was experiencing pleasure from it. What I didn’t understand was the pleasure I was feeling! I certainly wasn’t accustomed to becoming wet between my legs… a very uncommon occurrence for a girl who has lead a sheltered life like me.
The shame I felt was real, brought on by the moral dilemma I was caught in. My Mother would just die if she knew her little girl was sexually excited over another female.
I could tell she was completely dry, but I continued to rub her, her moans becoming increasing loud. I somehow felt empowered… my actions clearly arousing her… her hips undulating to my touch.
Suddenly, her body stiffened and shuddered… stiffened again, then relaxed, a sigh slipping from her lips. I stopped. I knew what had just taken place… I had masturbated my teacher to an orgasm! I didn’t want to think about it. It was too nasty and dirty to contemplate.
Moving her legs so she was lying lengthwise on the bed, I pulled the blanket from underneath to cover her. There was one more piece of clothing to remove… her blouse. She wasn’t wearing a bra… I almost gave into the sudden urge to touch them, to feel their weight in my hand, to nurse on them. I think the fear of waking her was the only thing keeping me from giving in to my depraved desire.
Finally, she was covered and fast asleep. I immediately went to the bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, I slipped my hand inside my panties. In just moments I clumsily fingered myself to an orgasm, maybe the third or fourth time in my life. I recognized the difference… this orgasm was so explosive my knees buckled. I had to hold myself up by leaning across the sink. I never, ever experienced such physical pleasure.
After cleaning myself, I returned to the room and sat down on the edge of my bed. I just sat there staring at her… I tried to make sense of my actions and why I felt this strong, sexual urge around this pee soaked woman.
There was no way I could comprehend what was happening to me.
When I awoke in the morning Mrs. Oliver was in the shower. I lay in bed pretending to sleep until she was fully dressed. She was writing me another note when I confronted her.
“Mrs. Oliver,” I spoke timidly. “We need to talk.”
“Well, good morning to you too Sarah,” she said sarcastically. “What’s your problem today. Do you miss your mommy?”
I was totally unprepared for her attitude. I couldn’t understand why she suddenly seemed to resent me.
“I don’t have a problem,” I said in an even toned voice. “But… if you have other friends you want to spend time with I can call my mother to come and get me. We’re supposed to be here another five days and I certainly don’t want to sit around in this room by myself in the evening, especially when I have to take care of you because you’re drunk. ”
“I think we both know that isn’t true Sarah. I think you enjoyed exploring my body last night. And I must say, I enjoyed it too.”
Suddenly I became very emotional. I tried but I couldn’t hold back the tears. I was so embarrassed, so ashamed. She knew all along… she fooled me into thinking she was passed out! Now I really wanted to go home.
Mrs. Oliver put her arms around me and I naively assumed she was trying to comfort me. I lay my head on her shoulder, accepting her compassionate embrace. We stood there together for several minutes, holding each other close.
I felt her soft lips gently kiss my cheek, my forehead. It felt so nice, so motherly, and I appreciated her affection. When her lips brushed mine, I stiffened. A cold shiver shot up and down my spine.
Without warning, her lips locked to mine, the kiss became passionate and serious. I was caught completely off guard, and without thinking, returned the kiss, accepting her tongue as it slipped into my mouth.
We kissed for several minutes, my heart racing as the sexual tension coursed through the room. My entire body seemed to ache for some kind of release… I didn’t know what was happening to me. Every nerve was on edge… hot flashes spiking thru every part of my body, converging between my legs.
“I think you’re ready to be baptized baby… I sensed your taste for the golden rule ever since your birthday party. Tell your teacher what you want you little slut. Tell teacher you want the golden rule.”
“I don’t know Mrs. Oliver,” I moaned softly. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about. This is so strange for me. I don’t think we should be doing this. This is wrong, isn’t it?”
I tried to gently pull away from her but she held me firmly. She began kissing me again and I succumbed without hesitation to her soft, long tongue invading my mouth and throat. Her hands were kneading my ass cheeks, pulling me even tighter to her body. I could feel my legs part, ever so slightly, as I tried to push my aching pussy against her leg.
“Take your right hand and rub your pussy,” she said firmly. “Go ahead, I want you to finger your pussy.”
“I can’t,” I cried. “This is so terribly wrong, Mrs. Oliver. It’s wrong. Please let me go.”
She grabbed my wrist and forcefully pushed it between our bodies. When she had my hand placed between my legs, she hugged me tightly, trapping my arm and hand between us. Kissing me again, this time her tongue felt thick and hot as she pushed it forcibly down my throat. My gagging didn’t deter her, forcing it all the way to my tonsils again and again.. My fingers instinctively began to caress the lips of my pussy, my panties becoming sticky and wet almost immediately.
I’m sure she could tell I was on the verge of an orgasm. She stepped back, grasping my shoulders firmly, forcing me down to my knees on the floor.
“Keep fingering yourself you little slut,” she growled huskily. “And don’t you goddamn stop.”
I was so close now I couldn’t stop even if I wanted too. As I knelt in front of her she slowly began to slide her skirt up above her crotch. I was staring right at her panties, and a familiar, large wet spot spreading at the crease of her lips.
I could swear to god, I never suspected, never saw it coming. I was totally naive. She spread her legs, pulling my face, my mouth to her panty covered, swollen lips. A stream of her warm pee filled my mouth. I could think of nothing more nasty or sick, and my first instinct was to gag… throw up… but when I was forced to swallow to breathe, I continued to swallow.
The very thought of submitting to her vile treatment of me was arousing such an acute, pleasurable sensation, I wallowed in her perverse defiling of my body, I could feel a massive orgasm surfacing.
I tried to scream… I was drowning in her putrid stream of piss… but the seemingly unceasing spasms between my legs became more intense as I gulped her discharge, the ultimate pleasure of my life swept over me in wave after wave… so intense I would have done anything for this perverse pleasure.
I had this strange thought of myself… a filthy filthy slut… and the very thought of the horrendous act I was being forced to perform brought with it another wave of panty filling pleasure.
I finally fell forward, my body aching from the long, uninterrupted orgasm and the warm, tepid piss that filled my stomach. My tee shirt was soaked… the smell of her urine filled my nostril’s… I inhaled the intoxicating odor, god, the humiliation was exquisite!
Looking up I could see Mrs. Oliver fingering herself, her moans echoing throughout the room as she shuddered vigorously to her own orgasm..
I sat on the floor, back against her bed, I looked down at my round little stomach full of her piss.
“I’ll see you tonight, baby,” she said wickedly. “You won’t be bored any more while we’re here. Okay?”
I didn’t answer. I just sat there staring at her. She straightening her clothes, preparing herself to leave for class. She didn’t clean herself, not even to change her soaking, filthy panties.
“Okay?” she repeated herself.
“Yesssss,” I whispered.
Long after she left, I was still sitting on the floor with the image of her pussy, her smooth, delicious pussy, and how soft and natural it felt adhered to my mouth… my obedient, indulgent mouth.
The dorm room door burst open, it was Mrs. Oliver.
“What the,” but before I could finish she threw a bag at me.
“Here, get dressed… put these new clothes on. We have to be downtown in an hour. C’mon, hurry up. ”
I reacted like a ten year old child I a ripped open the bag to see what she had purchased for me.
“Make sure you wear everything in the bag,” she ordered. “I want you to look special tonight. ” Did you shower today?”
“Yes,” I answered indignantly. I thought it was a stupid question. Did she forget what she did to me this morning. I certainly couldn’t walk around all day smelling like urine.
“Doesn’t matter. Get undressed… we’ll shower together.
I didn’t want to… but I couldn’t resist the opportunity to see her beautiful body again.
Climbing into the shower with her was intimidating. She was nearly five foot, nine inches tall. Her perfectly formed, large breasts were intimidating enough, but the rest of her body was nearly perfect also.
Then there was me… small, petite. Mom always told me I was perfectly proportioned, just scaled down a bit. I felt scaled down a lot.
As we stood in the shower completely soaped up, she moved directly under the shower shielding me from the stream of water. Suddenly a golden stream hit me in the stomach, rinsing the soap off of me.
I never moved, allowing her to pee all over the front of my body. And as before, I became sexually stimulated… I loved her warm piss splashing over my body.
That was it, we finished our shower and proceeded to dress. “What is this?” I said as I held up a pair of white knee socks. “You want me to wear these? I haven’t worn knee socks since I was twelve. I don’t understand why.”
“And you were a sexy little slut when you were twelve,” Mrs. Oliver said with a far off look in her eyes. “I remember your first day in Junior High… yeah, you were probably the sexiest little girl in your class.”
I tried to think back to my Junior High days… I drew a blank. I was confused… Mrs. Oliver thought of me sexually back then? I was just a little girl!
“Just put everything on that’s in the bag,” she ordered. “It’s an outfit… it all goes together. Now hurry up and get dressed… you’ll see. Just try it… and listen, don’t wear a bra.”
Something wasn’t right… I stood in front of the mirror, my breast clearly visible thru the sheer white blouse. The skirt… well, I guess it was a skirt. It barely covered the my butt cheeks. I had never worn a skirt this short… I never knew you could buy a skirt this short!
“Let me look at you,” she ordered.
I turned, my face red with embarrassment. She surely didn’t expect me to go out in public like this!
“Yes,” she declared. “That’s it… that’s the look I wanted for you… god, you look terrific. Put on the knee socks… kiddo, you’re so hot.”
“I can’t go out like this Mrs. Oliver. Look at me. I look like I’m thirteen… and I’m half naked. Please, don’t make me go out like this. Pleaseeee.”
“Stop your goddamn whining. You’re going.”
I pulled on the knee socks and forced my foot into the new penny loafers from the bag. As I stood up she stopped to stare at me again.
“My god… I bet if your Mother could see you right now she’d beg me for your pussy. What do you think Sarah? You think your Mother would beg me to lick your little cunt?”
“Please… please don’t talk like that Mrs. Oliver. I feel guiltily enough as it is. Please… don’t talk about my Mom like that. She would never understand this… the things we’re doing. My god, I don’t even understand.”
She approached me, grabbing and pulling me brusquely against her. Her skilled tongue sliced thru my lips, her right hand slipping under my skirt, into my panties. Within minutes I was wet… and I had this sudden sense of urgency to please her… And I wondered: Was she going to pee in my mouth again?
She finally pushed me away and continued to dress. I stood in the middle of the room and waited like a little schoolgirl waiting for her Mother. I was so racked with guilt I tried to find some way, at least in my mind, to justified my actions. The best I could come up with… Mrs. Oliver made me do it. She made me dress like a little girl slut… she forced me to go out in public dressed so provocative. If everyone noticed my panties while I was sitting, it was Mrs. Oliver’s fault.
But I knew better. I now wanted to go out… I wanted to let people look at me… ogle my soaking white panties. I wanted everyone to see me, to lust for me. I also knew that all of this would surely lead to pleasure… the shame and humiliation I was feeling guaranteed it.
A cab was waiting for us when we exited the dormitory. It was the Asian girl… the one who dropped off Mrs. Oliver the night before.
“Jesus Christ Janet,” the Asian girl whispered to Mrs. Oliver, “Are you sure she’s legal? She looks like she’s twelve years old!”
Janet… Mrs. Oliver’s first name is Janet? I was surprised I hadn’t known her first name before.
“She is a lovely little slut isn’t she,” Mrs. Oliver said proudly. “And why are you acting so self righteous Ming? You’d lick her pussy in the back seat of the cab if I let you. Now C’mon, get us downtown quickly.”
The humiliation I felt at that moment was incredible. Mrs. Oliver talking about me like she could just hand me around to some other woman like… like she owned me!
As we approached a downtown restaurant, or club… I wasn’t sure which… my breath shortened, a feeling of panic came over me. Even though I was being forced to display myself in such a vulgar fashion, I suddenly realized it didn’t make it any easier to actually do it. Everyone was going to think I was a twelve year old slut, not an eighteen year old, extremely bright and intelligent college student. I could only thank god no one here knew me or my family. I could never embarrass my parents like that.
The maitre d saw us to our table in the back, actually a booth, which was already occupied by a very attractive woman. Apparently she was waiting for us.
“So good you’re here Janet,” the woman said to Mrs. Oliver. I hope you didn’t have a difficult time finding the place.”
“No, oh no Nancy… we came in a cab. No problem at all.”
Mrs. Oliver gently forced me into the booth across the table from the woman. She then asked the woman to move over so she could sit next to her.
“Nancy, this is Sarah… she’s the girl I was telling you about… the one who accompanied me here to the college.”
For the first time the woman noticed my breast… she tried to avert her eyes away but it was too late… I immediately sensed her discomfort. She did her best to cover it up.
“Hello Sarah, my name is Professor Drew. I’m Mrs. Oliver’s testing professor. So how do you like our little school… sort of subdued right now being it’s summer. When school is in session there are all kind of activities going on.”
“I barely heard her rambling… something else caught my interest. “Your name is really Professor “Nancy Drew? That is so cool.”
“Don’t be rude Sarah,” Mrs. Oliver hissed at me.
“I’m not,” I said. “I just never met anyone named Nancy Drew. After all, she’s the favorite little detective of all young girls… probably all around the world. I know she was my favorite when I was in the fourth grade. ” I think I read every one of the Nancy Drew Mysteries.”
“Well, I wasn’t always Nancy Drew,” the Professor said. “I acquired the last name when I married my husband. You’re quite right, Sarah. It’s really quite rare to hear of anyone named Nancy Drew.”
Mrs. Oliver decided enough was enough and changed the subject; “Professor Drew asked you what you thought of the campus, Sarah.”
“It’s a beautiful campus Professor. I can’t wait to attend here.”
“Well don’t grow up too fast young lady… enjoy yourself until you’re college age… What are you, twelve, thirteen?”
“No ma’am, I’m going to be a student here next year.”
“I’m… I’m sorry, you’re going to do what?” Did you say you were going to be a student here next year?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“My god, you look so young.” She turned to Mrs. Oliver… “Christ Janet, I’m only thirty six years old, why do they look so young any more.”
“Sarah can be twelve if you want her to be.” Mrs. Oliver suggested.
Looking at me, Mrs. Oliver continued: “Isn’t that right Sarah? You’re just a little girl when you want to be aren’t you.”
I said what I thought she wanted to hear. “Yes ma’am… I’m your little girl.”
I glanced up at the Professor’s face. She had a bewildered look… as if she didn’t have any idea what Mrs. Oliver was eluding too.
“So you’re thirty six,” Mrs. Oliver said to Professor Drew. Well, you’re still a young woman. I’m thirty five, and you know what they say, women our age are at the height of their sexual peak. I’m living proof, I’m horny all the time. Aren’t you?”
The Professor’s face turn beet red. It was obvious she was totally embarrassed by Mrs. Oliver’s frankness.
Mrs. Oliver spoke to me… “Nancy is a married woman Sarah. She has a daughter too… a pretty little thing from the pictures I’ve seen of her. Nicole… isn’t that her name Nancy?”
“Yes, Nicole… my beautiful daughter,” Nancy said with a sigh. “She’ll be in Junior High next year.”
“Have you two been friends a long time?” I asked curiously.
“Oh no,” Mrs. Oliver exclaimed. “We just met this week. We really hit it off when she and several of our class went out last night. That’s why I invited her to meet us tonight.”
“I don’t go out often,” Nancy Drew chimed in. “Two nights in a row is a record for me. After tonight my husband may think I’m cheating on him.”
Both women laughed… it didn’t seem funny to me.
“Let’s order a bottle of wine,” Mrs. Oliver suggested. “We’re all wine drinkers here aren’t we?”
“I can’t have any wine Mrs. Oliver,” I said. “I’m not old enough.”
“Don’t worry about it Sarah… no one will notice. Just look how dark it is in here… and we’re way back here in the corner”… her voice trailed off as a waitress approached.
An hour later, after much small talk and the bottle of wine nearly gone, I could feel the effect the wine was having on me. I didn’t recall Mrs. Oliver ordering another bottle but suddenly the waitress appeared with another… I wondered how we could ever drink it all.
And then it started. “What do you think of Sarah’s tits, Nancy?” Mrs. Oliver whispered. “Were your tits that nice when you were a teenager. Take your arms away Sarah… show Nancy your tits!”
By now I was tipsy.. I didn’t seem to have any inhibitions… I dropped my arms exposing my breast, breast clearly visible thru the see thru blouse I was wearing.
After all the furtive glances Professor Drew had made throughout the evening, she now gazed at me openly, accepting Mrs. Oliver’s question as permission to look without embarrassment. She was obviously feeling the effects of the wine also…
“Would you like to feel them Nancy… Sarah won’t mind. You won’t mind will you Sarah?”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t say no either.
“What are you suggesting Janet?” Nancy said indignantly. “Why would you think I might want to feel a young girls breast. Are you crazy!. You know, maybe I better go. I’m not comfortable with where this conversation is going. I agreed to meet you here for a drink because I thought we had become friends. Obviously you have some agenda that I don’t know about… and quite frankly, I don’t want to know about.”
“Whatever are you talking about,” Mrs. Oliver said in mock surprise. It’s quite normal to have some kind of sexual urges toward a young, pubescent girl like Sarah. Are you telling me this sexy little thing doesn’t elicit any sexual feelings from you at all? Now come on Nancy… be truthful… and listen, you may never get this kind of chance again.”
I began to giggle… the wine was making me crazy. “You want to touch my titties Professor Nancy? You can if you like.”
I leaned forward, over the table… my nipples jutting against the sheer fabric… they felt hard enough to poke holes thru the expensive blouse I was wearing.
Nancy glanced at Mrs. Oliver… her eyes asking for reaffirmation of the permission she had already received.
Mrs. Oliver urged her on. “Go ahead Nancy, nobody’s watching. It’s alright. Go ahead. She’s just a ripe little slut who needs attention… go ahead, she’ll love it.”
Mrs. Oliver was right… I wanted this stranger to fondle me… I was so hot.
“Listen Nancy,” Mrs. Oliver whispered. “Doesn’t Sarah’s tits look just like your daughter’s. I bet your daughter’s little nipples get hard… just like Sarah’s.
“Oooohhhhh god,” Professor Nancy groaned. “Please don’t… don’t… please don’t bring my daughter into this. Pleaseeee…..”
“That’s why I brought Sarah here Nancy,” Mrs. Oliver purred. “This way you won’t have to think about your daughter’s little tits… the tits you dream about fondling… sucking. I know you think your daughter is a little slut… but a woman in your position can’t be messing with her own daughter… but you can do with Sarah’s anything you want. ”
“Yeah, do what you want Professor,” I slobbered.
“Call her mommy, Sarah,” Mrs. Oliver suggested. I think Nancy would like that. You’d like her to call you mommy wouldn’t you Nancy?”
“Please… this is so wrong… I can’t… I….”
“Mommy?” I murmured. “Mommy want to touch me… do you want to touch me mommy?” I pushed my breast even further across the table.
Professor Nancy let another moan as her eyes riveted on my chest. Her hand slithered across the table… glancing around for one more reassuring look from Mrs. Oliver. Her hand cupped my breast, lifting it gently as if to weigh it, her thumb rubbing gently over my nipple.
“Mmmmm,” she moaned as I thrust them forward, giving her easier access without straining her arm. As she fondled me I tried to think why I was allowing this… a week ago I would have been crying rape! Now I was so willing?
“Pinch her nipples Nancy,” Mrs. Oliver ordered. “. Pinch them.. hard, make her wince. Go ahead, do it goddammit. Don’t you want to see her cry” I felt the pain shoot thru me, again, and again… such sweet pain for the extreme shame I was experiencing. I didn’t understand, I was aware how degrading this was, but the wetness of my panties reaffirmed the pleasure.
Professor Nancy’s eyes, her eyes glazed and piercing, the same lust I saw in Mrs. Oliver’s eyes that morning, that morning she corrupted me with her unsanitary, sick sex. She was making me sick like her. God, I wanted my mommy… I also wanted this woman to fondle me.
“You want to suck on them Professor. ” That was MY voice… cause I wanted it… I wanted them sucked. I wanted my pussy sucked. Oh god yes, suck me! …. fuck me!
Professor Nancy suddenly withdrew her hands from my breast. She nervously fidgeted in the booth as if she wanted to run away and hide.
“I have to go, Janet,” Nancy said.
“Go, go where?” Mrs. Oliver asked.
“To the ladies room,” she exclaimed. Too much wine. Would you please let me out. Please… hurry… this wine has gone right thru me. ”
Mrs. Oliver glanced around as if to make sure our booth was still isolated from the dining room. She then leaned towards Nancy as if to kiss her. Nancy turned her face away. That didn’t stop Mrs. Oliver… her tongue zeroed in on the Professor’s ear.
Professor Nancy froze… I don’t think she expected such aggressive behavior from Mrs. Oliver, especially in a public place. Her lack of movement allowed Mrs. Oliver’s long tongue to slither into and around her ear. Being inebriated from the wine, I don’t think her mind was processing everything happening to her very quickly.
I was drunk too, but everything appeared so clear to me, even appearing in slow motion… weird….
“Please Janet,” the Professor begged. “I can’t hold it any more. Please, you have to let me out.”
Mrs. Oliver whispered to her. “Do it right here Nancy. Go ahead, right here baby. Just spread your legs and do it here.”
“Do what here,” Nancy asked, a puzzled look on her face.
“Spread your lets and piss right here. Piss on Sarah… she’ll loves it.”
“I can’t go here… I can’t do that. Are you crazy. Now let me out!”
“I’m not letting you out,” Mrs. Oliver stated firmly. If you have to pee you’re going to have to do it here. That’s it, don’t ask m any more.”
Nancy’s face showed confusion and fear. You could tell her drunken brain, already compromised by a hidden lust she showed for me, now tried to process this new, sick component of Mrs. Oliver’s sexual plan.
A low, animalistic moan emitted from her lips… Even in my drunken state I could tell she had been seduced… just like me… I didn’t see her spread her legs but I felt he sudden, warm piss splatter over my lap, streaming up under my mini skirt, soaking my already damp panties. The stream hit me directly in the crotch… the warm, warm piss virtually bringing me near an instant orgasm.
As the stream of her golden juice waned, it sprayed my knees causing all of her piss to run down my legs, and within seconds my white knee socks were soaked as well.
When it dribbled down to my feet, it filtered into my shoes. My feet, warmed by her hot golden piss, was the final sensation. I exploded. As my fingers jammed my clit thru my piss soaked panties, my body throbbed uncontrollably with strange little spasms. My hips, thrusting with each pulsating gush of cream spewing from my aching pussy, brought me such delicious pleasure. I continued cumming and cumming… and cumming…..
When my breathing returned to normal, I had this sick, demented desire to lick the piss from my hand, now cold and putrid… but I licked it anyway.
When my eyes finally focused again, I peered at Professor Nancy’s eyes, eyes full of fear, and lust, waiting for a release of the knot holding her body in suspension… I watched as her hips began undulating, amazed at the total lack of control a body has over a pending orgasm. The pleasure of anticipation, the physical pleasure of cumming that can’t be properly described.
And the cause of the Professors pending pleasure? Mrs. Oliver’s hand up her skirt, two fingers fucking her cunt like a large cock… the beginning of the Professor’s long, bottomless orgasm.
I watched in awe as this straight laced, housewife and tenured college teacher, while sitting in a public place, allowed another woman to finger fuck her to a massive orgasm.
She came again and again, her writhing, lurching body in total convulsion, and there was no mistaking the pleasure she was experiencing.
All things end, and as her orgasm ebbed, the fear returned to her face. Reality of her sick behavior, her participation in such a vile act, frightened her.
—-
“Why don’t we leave,” Mrs. Oliver suggested. “I think the lovely aroma we’ve created may give us away.”
My skirt and knee socks were soaked and spotted. I didn’t care.
“My god Janet, the front of my skirt… look at it,” Nancy cried. What are people going to think.”
“Just walk out… quickly. Don’t worry about it. We don’t know anybody here. C’mon, lets go.”
We followed her, walking quickly. I stared straight ahead… Curiously, I was wondering whether any of the men were looking at me, wishing they could fuck me… If my dad were here, would he want to fuck me too? I shuddered at what my virgin mind could conjure up since falling prey to Mrs. Oliver’s sick and twisted idea of pleasure.
Professor Drew’s car was parked at the farthest end of the lot. Once there, I felt relieved. I didn’t know Mrs. Oliver had something else in mind.
Professor Drew wasn’t handling the nights events well. Sobbing uncontrollably, she was having difficulty finding her car keys in her purse.
Mrs. Oliver, in control, spun the crying Professor around and slapped her across the face. “Get hold of yourself,” she spat out. “Here, want to smell your pleasure.” She pushed her fingers under the Professor’s nose.
“You fucking cunt, you loved every minute of tonight. Now you want to feel guilty and ashamed. Tomorrow you’ll be spying on your daughter again… running around the house fingering yourself… wishing you had the guts to crawl in her bed and lick her little pussy.”
I didn’t know how Mrs. Oliver knew all of this but the Professor Nancy didn’t deny it. She just stood there sniffling, letting Mrs. Oliver berate her.
And as quickly as she had turned on Nancy, she now took on a new tact. In an all too familiar move, she put her arms around the Professor and began consoling her. The woman, after running the gamut of emotions in one night, melted into Mrs. Oliver’s arms, or the lair as I now knew it to be.
“You need to get this lust you have for your daughter out of your system,” Mrs. Oliver purred. “I want to help you. Let me paint you a fantasy. Just think of you and Nicole, out walking in the park, your pussy weeping with the image of her in her little mini skirt. You lure her into a wooded area, kneel in front of her, caressing her tanned legs. You nuzzle her crotch thru her skirt, the faint smell of her hairless little cunt just inches away from your lips.”
“Ohhhh god,” the Professor moaned. “Yesss, I can see it… I can….”
“But you want more than that, don’t you Nancy. You want more than to sniff around her little white panties. You want to tongue her… to taste her, maybe even lick the sweaty crack of her tight little ass.”
“Yesssss… oh god yesss. Oh please… I can’t think about this… I just can’t. Pleaseeee.”
Mrs. Oliver gently took the woman by the arm and led her into the sparsely wooded area next to the parking lot. She indicated for me to follow. In a small opening where we couldn’t be seen, Mrs. Oliver gently ordered the woman to kneel on the ground. The Professor’s eyes looked pleadingly at Mrs. Oliver.
Mrs. Oliver pulled me by my arm till I was placed in front of the kneeling woman, Pushing me forward, she guided my body till my crotch was just inches away from the woman’s face. She pulled my soiled panties to one side, exposing my pussy to Professor Nancy’s eyes.
It was all so surreal. She placed my hands on the back of the Professors head, instructing me to gently force the woman’s lips against my cunt. I did, and I wanted to… those familiar, sexual feelings were stirring in me again.
I felt the Professor’s tongue tenderly slip between the lips of my pussy. In the meantime, Mrs. Oliver, wetting her finger in her mouth, eased the moist finger between my buttocks, pressing her fingertip against my little anus hole.
I was becoming awash in pleasure… Mrs. Oliver’s gentle probing of my behind, however, was causing another sensation. I suddenly had to pee… and pee badly. Only then did I understand! She wanted me to pee… she wanted to be the one to introduce the Professor to her sick fetish.
I didn’t have a choice. I hadn’t relieved myself since we drank all that wine. I held back for a minute or so… but the professor was beginning to lick me more aggressively. That only aggravated the problem.
Finally I couldn’t hold it any more. Without any warning, I just started pissing. I held the Professors face tight against me… I think because the idea of peeing into a teachers mouth really began to excite me… and she had such a delightfully sexy mouth. And she’d let her precious Nicole piss in her mouth, wouldn’t she?
The nasal moan of the Professor broke the stillness of the night..
“Ahhhhhhggggggggggggggg,” she cried out in a gagging scream. It quickly turned into a familiar gurgle, and from the street light filtering thru the trees, I could see clearly the absolute obsession the Professor had in trying to drink every drop of my hot, putrid piss. My orgasm wasn’t far behind.
But my pleasure at the moment: Try to drown this slut bitch with my piss… and it was coming all to fast for her to drink it all. I could see it foaming from her lips, spilling all down the front of her blouse till the outline of her bra was clearly visible.
I must have pissed a quart… then it stopped. Mrs. Oliver parted us. “No,” I screamed out. “I want her to lick my pussy. Pleaseeee Mrs. Oliver… she isn’t done licking me. Pleaseee…. ”
Mrs. Oliver pushed the woman roughly down on her back. She straddled the woman, lifted her skirt and let out her golden stream. I could smell Mrs. Oliver’s urine as the strong, thick stream splattered all over the Professor’s face.
Mrs. Oliver stopped. Stepping backward a step, she ordered the Professor to pull up her skirt. The woman obeyed. The stream came again, aimed directly at the Professors pussy.
I may never forget that scream. A high pitched wail of absolute, extreme pleasure. It was the ultimate humiliation. And all the while Mrs. Oliver was berating her.
“You like our piss you fucking cunt? Is your stomach full of your daughters piss? You love it don’t you… you goddamn slut. You know what bitch… maybe we’ll come to your house tomorrow night… See if Nicole likes to drink Sarah’s piss too. You think she’d like it? What about it Professor… you going to invite us over. Are you? Are you?”
The Professor never answered… Her screams of ecstasy, her writhing body soaked in yellow piss, it was obvious she was totally oblivious to her surroundings. She was completely lost in her lust and physical pleasure.
When Mrs. Oliver finished, she grabbed me by the hand, pulling me back towards the parking lot. I could still see the Professor, Nancy Drew, writhing on the ground, her fingers buried in her cunt, her body and mind bound by the throes of pleasure she was experiencing.
As if on cue, Ming, the Asian cabby pulled up. Was this all planned? I didn’t know… and I didn’t want to know. As we climbed int the vehicle, Ming’s ogling eyes told me what I wanted to know. My pussy was going to get licked again… and I was sure she had a full bladder for me.
An hour later, my pussy sated from a near black out orgasm, I licked my lips as Ming’s cunt lips dripped her final drops of golden urine into my mouth. My stomach was warm and full… she apparently saved up for me since noon. I licked her gingerly till she came… an added bonus, her savory, creamy juices soothing to my palate. And all of this in the back of a stinking cab. At the moment I couldn’t have been more content. I just hadn’t had time to think about it about yet.
—-
I awoke at noon, still in my clothes. They were pissed covered and sticky. The odor almost made me sick. I even had a used condom stuck to the back of my skirt, apparently picked up in the back of the cab. I looked at curiously. I knew what it was, I just never seen one before.
Mrs. Oliver was gone, at her classes I assumed.
I literally ripped the clothes off of me and jumped in the shower. I replayed the previous night thru my head… I couldn’t get past how we left that poor Mrs. Drew lying in the woods. She must have been devastated by the time she came down from her sexual high and had to go home in the condition she was in.
I came to this campus with high expectations, academic expectations. I worked hard throughout my junior high and high school. I was picked valedictorian of my school for a reason. I was smart and I worked hard. And now it all come to this?
I was a virgin with no sexual experience. Mrs. Oliver took advantage of my naivete, and I had become no more than a sick slut.
Well no more. I dressed, packed and called a cab. Within two hours I was on a bus home. I didn’t know what I was going to tell my mother. Certainly not the truth. She would probably be disappointed if I went to another college. She’d get over it. I knew I couldn’t come back here. No way.
—-
I spent the remainder of the summer working as a receptionist for the company where my mother worked. It was a valuable experience, having to deal with the public every day.
I found another college to attend, not as close to home as my original choice, but still within a day and a half drive.
Mrs. Oliver actually had the nerve to call me at home. I wasn’t in, my mother took the call. She told my mother how much fun we had together and how lucky she was to have a daughter like me. She left a message for me to call her. I never did.
I did have a fright one day. A man and his wife had an appointment with one of the salesman in our office. I greeted them when they came in. As they waited for the salesman to meet with them, the man stared at me curiously. He was making me uncomfortable.
He finally approached my counter. “Have you ever been to Morganville?’ he asked. “You know, the college town about four hundred miles from here. ”
“Oh, I’ve been there before, but not in awhile,” I answered. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, my wife and I happened to be there about a month ago. We had dinner in a restaurant one night and there was a girl there… well, she looked just like you. I mean she looked enough like you to be your twin. Amazing.”
“No, wasn’t me,” I lied. I couldn’t help but notice how he looked at me. It was quite obvious he wanted to fuck me… he wanted to fuck that little girl he remembered from the restaurant. He didn’t even try to hide the large bulge in his pants.
My biggest problem at work was some of the ladies that worked there. There were three or four of them I had a strong sexual attraction for every time I was around them. I tried to fight it. I never had these kind of feelings before. Not till I spent a week with that bitch Mrs. Oliver!
I didn’t want to be attracted to women. I envisioned being married one day, having children. I really wanted to talk to someone about the problem before leaving for school. I didn’t know who to talk to. I certainly couldn’t talk to my mother!
—-
Summer was finally over and I was off to school. The day I arrived the sun was shining, everything looked rosy and bright.
Entering the admissions office I was given my dorm address and room number… and the name of my roommate.
I couldn’t believe it… I recognized the name. Abby Morgan. She was a couple of years ahead of me in high school. I asked the admissions clerk how I became paired with her. I thought if was unusual, out of all of the girls at the college, I ended up with someone from my own high school.
“She chose you,” the clerk said.
“She chose me?” I asked. “I don’t understand. What do you mean, she chose me?”
“Well, if Juniors or Seniors lose their roommate from the previous year, they have the option of choosing a new roommate from the incoming freshman if they want,” the clerk explained. “She came here to to office and picked your name. Why, do you have a problem with rooming with her?”
“No, I don’t even know her personally. I just know she went to my high school. No, I don’t have a problem. That’s fine. I was just curious.”
When I arrived at the room, Abby wasn’t there. I put my stuff away and lounged around familiarizing myself to the building.
Around five in the afternoon Abby came in. I remembered her immediately. She was a cheerleader… one of the beautiful people, the in crowd at school.
“You must be Sarah,” she said. “I’m Abby. I see you’ve already settled in. Did you have a nice trip here?”
“Yeah, the trip was fine. Listen, I have to ask you… I understand from the Admissions Office you chose me as your roommate. Just curious, why did you pick me?”
“You’re not going to believe this Sarah… I ran into my favorite teacher back home this summer… Mrs. Oliver. You know her don’t you? Anyway, she told me you were enrolling here and you would make a terrific roommate. So, I took her word for it. You know what they say, always follow your teacher’s golden rule. I did, and here your are. Great isn’t it.”
I could hardly believe my ears. Mrs. Oliver? Couldn’t I shed myself from that bitch. What the hell is going on? Is this girl… is she like Mrs. Oliver?
I was so lost in my thoughts I didn’t hear Abby call for me. “Sarah… come her a minute. I want to give you the room tour and the rules you have to follow.”
I numbly followed her into the bathroom. “Now this is your bathroom and you can use it any time I’m not here.”
I didn’t understand. “I’m not sure I know what you mean Abby. This is my bathroom… and I use it when you’re not here?
“Yes, that’s right,” she said.
“Well, what do I use when you’re here?” I knew the answer the minute I asked.
“You use me, silly… you use me.”
And as if to toast our new relationship she slipped silently to the tile floor. I looked down into her big blue eyes just before her blonde, curly hair disappeared under my skirt. I didn’t even bother to check if she moved my white cotton panties aside. I just let the golden nectar stream out of me… I never saw a drop hit the floor.