Must Be Something Wrong with Me

She got up higher on her knees, high enough so that she was at eye level with the man's stiff, naked dick.

It was wonderful. The bulb was so shiny, so purple, so agitated. She wet her lips with her tongue, leaned down, and planted a long, full, lustful kiss on the tip. She then slid her lips around and around the bulb, using her tongue as well to keep him slick and slippery. It was such a nice big fat head, like the head of a monstrous battering ram, so powerful, so fierce, so delicious, like a big purple plum.

She stuck out her tongue, and licked and licked and licked all up and down the shaft. It was not the shiny smooth shaft of a boy, it had clearly been through tough times, perhaps many times having been stroked, pounded, and beaten, but it was still quite stiff and stout and, much to her pleasure, hairless.

She returned to the tip and absorbed the purple plum into her mouth, capturing its thick richness within her mouth, where she could more thoroughly bathe it with her tongue as she ran her fist up and down the lubricated rod. She pumped and pumped the pipe, trying to draw forth from the well its full rich priceless oil, the salty gruel that he stored within his heavy, hairy balls, which she now gently but firmly grasped in her left hand, fondly tickling that sensitive area just behind his nuts, as her fist continued to jerk his cock and her tongue licked and lapped at the bulb.

For a man who rarely in life had ever had a woman even kiss him down there, who for many years was denied this pleasure by his ex-wife, it was just pure bliss. The innocent looking girl, dressed in the demure, chaste uniform of the college, had his cock buried in her mouth. She was lapping away at it like a thirsty puppy, while she stroked him with her soft girlish hand, and tickled his nuts with the other. He, and she, felt his balls pull tight against his body as the first pulse of his orgasm exploded from deep inside him and surged up and out his shaft like a gusher bursting from deep inside a well.

Emily moaned with pleasure as she felt the tell-tale twitch in his cock and then tasted the first blast of cum against her tongue. She so loved the taste of cum. She was at first surprised to find that cum didn't always taste the same. It was another sweet surprise of these magically delicious appendages. Mr. Gould's cum was really very nice: very thick, like a rich, heavy, syrupy, globby gruel. That was the way she liked it. She wanted her mouth to be filled with the man's thick, syrupy, slushy, slimy, slurpy, sludgy, sticky, scummy, sloppy soup, and Professor Gould did not disappoint.

Sometimes she tried to swallow as a man's gism gushed forth into her mouth, but this time she opted to just let it all build up. She wanted to have a true mouthful, to feel herself completely filled, engorged by his stuff, to truly experience the effect of being inundated, asphyxiated, smothered and choked by the clammy cum. It was like she was being punished for her misbehavior by having to wash her mouth out with his cum.

Mr. Gould watched through his glazed eyes the pretty Emily take his stuff into her mouth. It was a rapturous sight as well as a rapturous feeling, the waves of his orgasm sweeping up through his body as his cum belched forth from his shaft and out the head into her mouth, the cherubic mouth of Emily Kay. Yes, he would have to give her an A for this. It had been so long since he had felt this good.

When he was done she carefully pulled her mouth free, being heedful not to spill even one drop. She then looked up at Mr. Gould, an alluring, mischievous smile gracing her tightly closed lips, like she was hiding from her father that she had snatched a big gum ball from the candy jar and was now savoring its flavor, knowing that she had successfully gotten her treasure right beneath his nose.

Mr. Gould smiled back, still breathing quite heavily, actually trying to catch his breath.

"Isth ith okay ifth I go now Mther Gould?"

"Yes, yes, my dear. It's okay now. You be sure though to do the next homework assignment." He felt a strange need to act like a teacher again, however incongruous it now appeared, now felt.

Emily nodded gleefully. She stood back up, pulled her panties back up, and scampered from the class, luxuriating in the globs of cum in her mouth as she headed off to her next class.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Emily had been lying down on Dr. Lowenstein's couch, her head on the little white cloth. Dr. Lowenstein was sitting behind her, out of eyesight.

It was perhaps fortunate that she was, as her breasts were heaving up and down with her quickened breathing. This was, of course, precisely why the therapist sat behind the patient, so the patient could not observe the instinctive reactions of the therapist to whatever story, fantasy, or confession the patient was revealing.

"You know, doctor, sometimes I can even guess what they had been eating."

"Excuse me?"

"By the taste; the taste of the cum. Asparagus, of course, is the most obvious. Onions are, well, you know, oniony. Brussels and broccoli sprouts make it a bit bitter." She turned her head a bit toward the doctor, although still not able to actually see her face. "I think celery makes it sweater, but any fruit or fruit juice with lots of sugar, you know, like melons or mangos work best, I think. Don't you think so, doctor?"

Dr. Lowenstein didn't really know and, strangely enough, didn't really want to admit that fact. She had a friend who was a real wine connoisseur. She could not herself though tell the difference between a Riesling and a Sauvignon Blanc. They were all just red wines to her, yet her friend readily distinguished a Cabernet Franc from a Cabernet Sauvignon. Emily reminded her of her friend, with her fine taste in cum, and she felt a little jealous. "Have you continued to see Mr. Gould?"

"Oh yes, of course. Not too many times though." She again turned her head toward the doctor. "That's just it. I soon lose interest. Once I become too familiar with his penis I want to move on, to discover new ones, to hunt, bag, and conquer new ones. I even captured the penis of my high school teacher."

"Your high school teacher?"

"Oh my goodness, Dr. Lowenstein, I'm out of time again. Can I tell you that story next week?"

"Uh, yes, yes, yes, of course, next week. We can pick this up again next week."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

When Emily returned the following week Dr. Lowenstein immediately asked her about her high school teacher. This had troubled her throughout the week. She had told Emily that everything that happens within a session is confidential, but there are exceptions, including any underage sexual encounter.

But, the doctor was quickly reassured. Emily wasn't referring to a time when she was in high school.

"Oh no, Dr. Lowenstein, that would be wrong. I would have been underage and everything. I'm not that kind of a girl. I was eighteen when I did it. I was legal."

That was very reassuring to hear.

"In fact, that's the point. I wanted to do it back then. Frankly, lots of girls did. Mr. McAllister was fresh out of college. All the girls had crushes on him and, in fact, I think Tracy Flick did do him. Tracy was so obvious, as she was with lots of guys, frankly it seemed like all of the guys. I think she was actually doing it. She was so easy." This sort of criticism seemed a bit hypocritical to Dr. Lowenstein, but in the early stage of therapy she didn't feel that it would be helpful to be confrontational. "I wouldn't actually do anything with him. I was too young. I knew that. I promised my mother that I would wait until I was at least 18. Well, of course, not to have sex with Mr. McAllister, I mean, no, like, with any guy. In any case, Tracy often dropped hints to other girls that she had a "special" relationship with Mr. McAllister. Yea, I bet it was real 'special'."

"In any case, I saw him again last year, after I graduated. I was at the supermarket, just to get some milk. Did you know that the two most common things purchased at the grocery store are milk and bread? That's why they are the farthest apart in the store. Check it out. They do that so you have to go across the whole store. I didn't need any bread though. Mother just wanted the milk."

"In any case, I was wearing my Templeton uniform. I didn't have to. I was home visiting, and I just wanted to show my parents the uniform. Daddy likes it. I knew he would. Mother isn't so sure. She thinks it's kind of demeaning. It's funny. I think the administration considers the uniform to be conservative. It does at least prevent girls from wearing whatever they want. You know, Dr. Lowenstein, on some campuses girls even wear lingerie like it was a blouse." Dr. Lowenstein had heard of that. "And, don't quote me on this, but I hear, I mean it, I hear that at Abberville College some students are even naked!" She turned her head to Dr. Lowenstein. "Can you imagine that? All of the students completely naked? I don't believe it. That can't be true." That really wasn't true, but there was some truth to it (see Naked at College). "In any case, I think it's funny that Templeton requires this uniform when in fact I think it turns some boys on. It makes us look all innocent and pure, and lots of boys like that."

"Well, in any case, I ran into Mr. McAllister at the supermarket." Emily then proceeded to recount her experience with Mr. McAllister.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

She saw him as she was crossing through the store to get the milk. He was trying to decide which brand of frozen dinner to purchase. Emily gleefully called out, "Hello Mr. McAllister!"

He looked up and squinted. He did not at first recognize Emily. It was often difficult to recognize someone out of context, outside of the high school. And, the uniform certainly threw him off. Carver High School didn't require uniforms. This girl was wearing a tight white blouse, black tie, short plaid skirt, white socks, and even black Mary Janes. He had never seen a girl dressed like this, outside of the movies.

"Silly man, it's me, Mr. McAllister, Emily, Emily Kay."

He looked more intently as she came up the aisle. Once she got all the way up to him, standing next to him, he finally recognized her, a large smile gracing his lips as he recalled the young Miss Emily Kay. "Why yes! Emily, yes! How very nice to see you. You graduated last year, of course, of course I remember you." She had been such a cute girl, and now she seemed to be even cuter in this uniform.

"It's so wonderful to see you, Mr. McAllister."

"Yes, well, it's very nice to see you as well, Emily."

"Do you like my dress, Mr. McAllister?" She gave him a twirl. Quite a bit was already evident beyond the hem of the short plaid skirt, but a considerable amount of white thigh appeared as the hem flipped up with her twirl. Mr. McAllister even briefly detected a bit of white panty.

"Yes, well, it is very nice, Emily." He did indeed like her dress, very much so in fact, although it seemed a bit incongruous within this supermarket. What would make an adult girl wear such an outfit?

"It's my college uniform, Mr. McAllister. I go to Templeton now. I was just showing it off for my parents."

He couldn't imagine having a daughter show this dress off to him. "Oh, yes, yes." He was familiar with Templeton. It was a rather conservative college. They seemed to be as much into controlling students' behavior as they were into developing their minds. Personally, he found the parents who sent their children there to be overly protective and authoritative. "Well, how do you like it, dear?"

"Oh, it's okay. I like my classes and such, and my teachers."

"Well, that's good to hear. I'm glad it worked out for you. You were always a very good student."

"Well, thank you, Mr. McAllister. How sweet of you to say so." She went up on her tip toes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

He was a bit surprised at that, but Emily had always been a very friendly and engaging girl.

"What are getting, Mr. McAllister?"

"Oh, I was just trying to figure out which frozen dinner to get."

"Oh my, eating alone tonight, are you, sir?"

"Yes, not that it's any business of yours, Emily." He wasn't really annoyed. He was used to high school girls teasing him about being single.

Emily opened up the door to the freezer. She leaned over to reach deep into the bottom shelf. "These are the more healthier brands, Mr. McAllister."

Mr. McAllister's eyes naturally went to the rising of her skirt as she bent over into the freezer. Emily did have very lovely legs. But, what eventually came into view was really quite striking. The skirt was so low, and she was bent over so far, that the lower half of her bottom was soon revealed. Mr. McAllister quickly looked around. No one else was there to notice her exposed bottom, nor to notice him noticing. He turned back to her bottom.

Her tush was so cute, so very, very fresh and delicious. If only he could purchase one of these. And, it was so delightfully packaged. She was not selling it with any fancy dressing. She was wearing simple white panties, but they were ever so tight and appealing, trimmed with a very delicate lace. The pouch of her cunnie was in particular deliciously, snugly encased. He quickly adjusted the position of his awakening cock.

Emily looked back around, behind her. Yes, she could see that Mr. McAllister was admiring her bottom. She did hope that he liked her panties. She wasn't wearing her most enticing panties. After all, she was just visiting her parents. But, by the expression on his face and his quick effort to hide the fact that he was shifting his penis, she could see that he was pleased. "Do you see anything you like, Mr. McAllister?"

"Um, well, uh, no, no, that's fine." If anyone came down the aisle toward them from the right, they would see her exposed fanny. For the sake of her modesty, he stepped up to her, hiding her bottom from view with his own body on one side and his shopping cart on the other. He did not want to embarrass the girl, but in standing so close her bottom was now within inches of his crotch.

She turned back to the freezer. "Well, it's good to get the ones toward the back. They say those are the freshest you know. They put the new ones in the back. Mr. McAllister, if you wouldn't mind, hold me steady so I don't fall. It's really difficult to reach back there."

He moved up even closer, as close as he could get without actually touching her rump with his hard-on, and placed a hand gently on her hip.

Emily pretended to slip, thrusting her butt right back at him, pressing hard into his bulge. "Mr. McAllister, you have to hold me tighter than that!"

"Yes, yes, well." A minute ago he was worried that someone might see her in her rather indelicate pose. This, however, was really much, much worse. Now it looked like he was actually trying to take her from behind, his crotch pressed tightly against her upraised bottom. He imagined the security guard watching the monitors must be enjoying this scene. And, even worse, he realized that she might in fact be able to feel his erection against her buttocks. He wished she would just hurry up.

But, Emily did not. On the contrary, she began to shift her bottom left and right as she struggled to find the right package, giving him a little lap dance right there in the supermarket, enjoying the feel of his stiffie against the soft cheeks her derriere.

After awhile, she pushed back hard against him. "Hey, back off. You trying to push me in here?"

He gratefully backed away, quickly shifting over behind his shopping cart to hide his evident excitement.

She stood back up, proudly holding up a frozen Home Bistro gourmet dinner. "Here, Mr. McAllister, these are really very yummy, and good for you too!"

His eyes though were not on the package of Home Bistro, they were instead on the tips of Emily's tits, the nips of which were poking out of her tight blouse like a couple of bullets.

Emily noticed the direction of his eyes, looked down and exclaimed, pretending to be quite embarrassed, "Oh my!" She tossed the frozen dinner into his cart and clasped her hands against her breasts, ostensibly to protect her modesty but in fact drawing even more attention to her breasts, to their softness and pliancy. "I'm so sorry, Mr. McAllister. They kind of do that sometimes, you know, when they get cold, I mean."

Emily though wasn't blushing. It was Mr. McAllister's face that was turning red. "Yes, well, that's alright, Emily. You were in that freezer for quite awhile, actually."

"It's not like I got all sexually excited, you know, when I saw you."

"No, no, of course not, certainly not."

"Maybe if I warm them with my hands the little rascals will go down." She rubbed her palms against her nipples, around and around, and then pulled her hands away to see if it worked. It didn't, of course. If anything, they were now sticking out even further. "Oh, my goodness no!" and she once again tightly grasped her titties, squeezing them like she was testing a melon.

"But, I mean, it's not like that you wouldn't or couldn't excite me, Mr. McAllister. I don't mean that," she attempted to explain as she clutched her boobies. "I mean, in that way, you know, sexually." It was a rather endearing confession when the girl is squeezing her breasts.

"No, yes, well, that's fine."

"I used to feel that way a lot about you, you know. Lot's of girls did. But, I'm all grown up now."

"Yes, I know, well, say hello to your parents for me." He shifted around the cart. He really wanted to extricate himself from this rather awkward moment.

"Oh my gosh, Mr. McAllister, your thing got all stiff too!" she exclaimed, removing one hand, allowing her pointy nipple to come back into view, and pointing at what was pointing at her from his trousers.

"All jeez," he exclaimed, his embarrassment escalating. He quickly pulled a bag of chips from his cart and stuck them in front of his slacks.

Emily laughed at his discomfort. "Aren't we the two happy customers, Mr. McAllister. Now don't you be embarrassed by that. I'm a big girl now. I know about things like that." She stepped up to him and said more softly, "You know, it's really kind of flattering for a girl, letting you know how excited you are to see her."

"Well, you may be flattered, Emily, but I'm a little more than embarrassed."

Emily withdrew her other hand away. "But, Mr. McAllister, if I can show you my stiffies, can't you show me yours?"

"Emily, that would not be at all appropriate."

"Mr. McAllister, don't be embarrassed. It's not like I'm in high school anymore." In that outfit, she didn't look particularly grown up. "I'm fully eighteen and I'm not even your student anymore." She went up on her tip toes and whispered into his ear, "We can do anything we want now."

This was not helping his cock to go down.

She fell back off her tip toes and said more openly, "You know, I've always really wanted to see your penis, Mr. McAllister."

"Emily! Oh my gosh! You really shouldn't say things like that!" He knew that some of the girls in the high school had developed a crush on him, including one or two in Emily's class. A number of them had been highly flirtatious. This was to be expected. The principal had in fact spoken to him quite bluntly about it, knowing full well that the handsome young teacher would generate quite a number of fantasies, as well as rumors. The principal had made it clear that if anything untoward did in fact happen, he would be out of a job at Carver and most likely anywhere else. "My gosh, Emily! Please, if your parents were here right now."

"I don't live with my parents anymore, Mr. McAllister. I live in the dorm. I tell you what. Just let me see it for one minute, just one minute."