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Evil laugh made me smile. I remembered the encounter group in the Poconos, the joy and love in their touches, and tried to relax. The brush continued up my leg, around my pussy, down the other leg, back up, down, up . . . and across my pussy lips. “Oh, my!” I blurted. The dry brush painted my labia thoroughly before continuing up my tummy, around my breasts, and down my sides. “Stop!” I cried, writhing. “No tickling!” I hadn’t thought before of the risk of tickle torture. I always worried about the wrong things. “Sorry,” Gina said, “I’ll be more careful.” In place of the tickle brush, I felt something smooth and wet on my nipples. It oozed up my neck and across my lips. I smelled peach. Gina pushed it between my lips and I opened my mouth. After I’d eaten it, a plum traced the same path from nipple to tongue, its juice cold near my armpits. I felt a trickle of something room temperature on each nipple. Gina slurped at it, sucking. When she kissed me, I tasted honey. My mouth remained. Tammy went to her desk, hoping to avoid anything, but that was not to be the case. She asked Ms. Thompson if she had the correct answer to a problem on her paper. Christina had written on the paper for Tammy to bend over and give the boys a good look. Tammy did as ordered and the three boys behind Christina got a real good look at Tammy’s breast. ?What about this one, Ms. Thompson?? Christina asked and showed Tammy another note. The note told Tammy to sit on the edge of her desk in front of Bobby and not to cross her legs. Tammy did as instructed and slowly took a seat on the edge of her desk with her legs dangling down. If Bobby were to look closely he would get a good look at his teacher’s cunt. Tammy prayed that her skirt was long enough and it was dark enough between her legs that Bobby would not see anything. Class ended without any more orders. She quickly gathered her stuff and left school as quickly as possible. When she arrived at her car, she noticed.
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