A Perfectly Smackable Arse

"They're wonderful," I said, "beautiful. "I bent forward and captured her right nipple between my lips and held it there. I heard the sharp intake of breath as I took it with my teeth and carefully, oh so carefully, scraped upwards until it escaped. I did it again and then rolled the left nipple between the fingers of my free hand.

"Do you really like them?" she asked. "Greg says they're like fried eggs."

"Yes, I do." I took my mouth away from her nipple and brought my other hand into play. "I meant what I said at the barbecue. I love the shape of a woman," I continued to caress her breasts, pressing and rotating them, then scraping my open palms across her stiff nipples. "The curves as your waist flows out into your hips, the flare of a great ass, and I LOVE breasts big or small, but small breasts really turn me on. I don't know why. Yours are beautiful, they take my breath away."

"Fuck me again," she said reaching down between her legs gripping and tugging my prick, stuffing it into her wet cunt lips, "play with my tiny tits while you fuck me." Her eyes were closed and her nostrils flared again. My dick immediately stiffened and I pressed it into her. She was still deliciously tight but I was able to force my way in without any problems... and out again, and back in.

"Mmmm," she murmured. Eyes still closed, a dreamy look on her face.

She lay on her back on my desk, knees in the air held wide apart for me. Her prone body moving up and down on the leather in time to my thrusts. I held her hips and pulled her against me as I fucked her. I watched her tits, small as they were, moving with the increasing rhythm, the nipples bobbing up and down. I reached out and caressed them, lifting them from the sides of her ribcage, pressing the tiny mounds of soft flesh inward almost making a cleavage. I pressed them outward again, then up, pressing the nipples into my palms. I let go and they flopped back down, the nipples bouncing. I ran my fingertips sideways across her nipples and the flesh of her breasts rippled slightly, and then I held them between my middle fingers and lifted the nipples away making little pointy mountains on her chest.

She moaned and started to pant. "Pull them again, pull them hard, I don't mind."

I did as she asked, gripping the nipples firmly between thumb and forefinger, squeezing gently and tugging at them. I felt them harden between my fingertips and twisted them as I pulled, squeezing harder. She moaned again and I could feel her cunt spasm around me, not so violently this time.

"I'm coming!" she gasped, "keep pulling, pinch me."

I pinched them as hard as I dare and she gave a strangled cry. She started to gasp. I gripped them again and pulled really hard, stretching the flesh tightly away from her rib cage. She gasped again and her eyes flew open, staring straight into mine. Then she lifted her head away from the desk and looked down at herself.

"Yesss, ooh yess! Keep doing it, I'm coming, I'm coming."

She was still watching herself as I let go of the nipples and used my fingertips like claws on the flesh around them. I squeezed and pulled her tiny tits upwards, then released her again and gripped each one between the sides of my middle fingers and forefingers; I squeezed like a pair of scissors and was rewarded with a swelling of flesh above my fingers, like air in a soft balloon, the nipples swollen and prominent at the tips.

"That's it, that's it! Oh God, I'm coming." Now she looked straight at me, head still lifted off the desk, lips clamped shut, nostrils flaring breath coming and going in short pants through that beautifully sculptured nose. I pinched her nipples again and pulled so hard I was afraid I would tear them away from her breasts.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God! Oh fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!" she screamed as she came. Her head fell back onto the black jacket and white blouse still bunched around her shoulders. Her blonde hair fanned out like a halo. She arched upwards so she was resting only on the back of her head and her heels near the edge of my desk. She gripped my arms and heaved her body down the desk into me, gripping me tightly as I continued to pull at her nipples. Her eyes and mouth were squeezed shut and she was making that mewling sound again through tightly compressed lips.

I waited, embedded in her as her orgasm began to subside then I released her poor nipples and started to fuck her again, my own orgasm not too far away. She let go of my arms and lay back again then propped herself up on her elbows and watched me, her breathing ragged now, still hissing in and out of those flaring nostrils. Her cunt was still squeezing me though nothing like as tight as before. I think the focus of pain in her breasts had taken some of the power out of her pelvic muscles.

As she regained control of herself she asked breathlessly, "Are you desperate to come in me? I don't mind... really, you can if you want."

I slowed my thrusts, holding back, anxious not to do anything she didn't like. "That's ok," I said, "do you want me to pull out?"

"Not if you don't want to, but..." she paused and those blue eyes looked straight into mine, "I want you to come on my tits, I want to see your spunk spurting out all over me."

Oh what a fantastic creature, imagine being able to have sex with her whenever you wanted! Lucky Greg.

"Ok," I said, "I'm nearly there."

She smiled and raised herself forward, her arms straight with her hands flat on the desk behind her. The change of angle brought me closer, closer to her chest and to my climax. "Do you want me to squeeze some more or is it too tight?" she asked.

"No, you can squeeze me, I like it."

She started, and kept rhythm with my thrusts, squeezing me hard as I came to the top of my stroke and releasing me again as I pulled out. The pressure mounted, that so sweet feeling at the tip of my prick. I started to moan.

"I'm there," I gasped, "let go." She released the pressure and I pulled out and straightened my legs thrusting my prick up towards her chest and face. One of her hands came forward and closed around me. She wanked my prick up and down close to her chest, rubbing her thumb across the top of the swollen tip.

"Ooohh," she said, "it's very hard. I think it wants to squirt all over me."

I was in heaven, her cool hand rubbing up and down my throbbing dick, her beautiful face looking up at me, memories of smacking that fantastic ass and that amazing cunt nearly squeezing the life out of me. I felt the pressure build. Now it was my turn to have a strangled cry in my throat.

"Aaaaarggghh, now I'm coming!" I echoed her words. "I'm coming." A huge spurt of white cream shot out and splashed on her chest."

"Wow, I really felt that," she said as another spurt shot out, even faster and further than before. It caught her on the chin and she giggled. She rubbed my swollen head across the soft flesh of her chest, catching each hard little nipple in turn, and then another spurt came as she carried on wanking. She laughed, "What a lot of cum," she said, as two further smaller but thicker spurts followed in quick succession and dribbled down to her nipples. "Do you always do that much?"

"Aaahhhh, not sure," I gasped. I was still in the throes of climaxing, I squeezed out a last drop, "I've not watched myself come for years." I said catching my breath, "but it's the best I can remember for a long, long time."

"Eeeuurrrchhh," she said, "it's all over my hand." She wiped her spread fingers up and down her rib cage below her right breast.

I laughed, "What?" she said, looking up; her sticky hand paused in mid wipe.

"You," I said, "there you are with cum all over your chest and you get fussy 'cos there's a dribble on your hand."

"Oh, I don't mind that," she said, it's just that you can't touch anything without leaving a mess." Anyway, I want to rub it in. She finished wiping and then rubbed her hand across her chin where the second big glob had hit. She got most of it and held her hand up, palm open so she could see the result. I wondered if she was going to lick it off but she wiped this across her stomach then tried to look down at herself, her chin pressed down into her chest.

"Do you want a tissue?" I asked.

"No, I'm going to leave it, I want to go home all sticky." She sighed deeply and then lay back down on my desk contented. I was pulling up my pants and tucking in my shirt. She'd squeezed most of the cum out of my prick and wiped it all over her rib cage. Her head turned looking across at me. "I was so scared you'd throw me out. Do you think I'm terrible?"

I stopped trying to pull on my shoe and looked back. "I've just beat the hell out of your ass, fucked you twice, nearly ripped your nipples off and cum all over your tits and you're asking me if I think YOU'RE terrible!? I think you're amazing!"

She sat up, swung her legs over the desk edge and pulled her blouse and jacket down. She laughed a little to herself. "Well, I'm glad I did ask," she said, "at least I'll be able to sleep, I'll be able to dream about tonight for ages. Poor Greg," she sighed, "I'm afraid sex with him will be a bit tame for a while. I'll be lying back thinking of England and you smacking my arse."

She disentangled her bra and pulled it down smearing the tiny silk cups with my cum. She reached round behind to fasten the catch then pulled her blouse down around her and started doing up the buttons.

"Are you sure you don't want a tissue?" I asked, watching as the patches of cum soaked through the white cotton.

"No, I like this," she said. "I like the smell as it dries." She looked up, "see, I am terrible aren't I? I'm a dirty slut. I get these feelings about every three months; I wonder if it's anything to do with the moon? I've never really done anything about it before though," she added.

I shook my head in wonder. Who would have believed it? This beauty in my playground with all those dirty desires, it put mine to shame. "Well, nobody else knows you're a dirty slut," I said, "and I like it, and I'm not telling."

She continued dressing. "Are you ok?" I asked.

"Yep," she said, bending her leg up to slip on a her shoe, "but I just wonder how I'm going to handle it when I bring Ella in tomorrow morning."

"We'll have to be very formal Mrs Williams. I shall continue to treat you with the utmost respect," I said smiling. "And," I continued, more seriously, "as far as Ella is concerned NOTHING has changed."

"Thank you," she said, "it's funny, I feel I can really trust you... you know, with everything," she did a little twirl and looked back at me, "How do I look?"

"Stunning, maybe a little like you've had a busy evening at work. You've still got a great ass."

"When's the next parents' evening?" she asked.

"October," I replied.

"Hmmm, bit more than three months; not sure I can wait that long. Errmm, do you do home tuition?"

Three weeks later it was the end of semester. Occasionally I get small gifts from some of the children. At lunchtime, amid all the chaos of packing up for summer Ella Williams came in with a friend (they always go round in pairs.) Ella was a very bright six year old.

"I brought you a present, I didn't know what to get so Mummy chose it," and she handed me a card and what was clearly a carefully wrapped CD. "I wrote the card all by myself," she said proudly.

"Well, that's lovely Ella, thank you very much. Shall I open it now?" She nodded eagerly, her blue eyes sparkling bright, not unlike her mother's. The card said 'Top Teacher' and inside Ella had written in childish but neat handwriting, 'thank you for being a good techer i like it wen you do art and craft in my clas.' I unwrapped the CD, it was the 1997 compilation, 'Experience Hendrix: The Best of Jimi Hendrix.' A little handwritten card was caught in the wrapping; it read, 'Thank you for being a VERY good teacher. I like it when you do art and craft in me - see Track 11'.

I looked at the CD and turned it over to the list of tracks on the back.

Track eleven was 'Foxy Lady.'