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He removed his mouth, "A little slut."

"No, Sir," I objected, "I've only done it once." He moved his mouth to the other breast and sucked down the nipple. My pussy got wetter.

"Who with?" He asked. He resumed his suckling and I leaned back to allow him greater purchase. With his other hand he rubbed his own, hard cock through the material of his trousers.

"Oliver Mason." I said. He chuckled.

"In my class?" He said. He continued rubbing himself through the fabric. "Was it ......" he seemed amused, "...Good? With Oliver Mason?" I shook my head as he manipulated my right nipple with his thumb.

"Not really, Sir." He considered for a second.

"Tell me, Beth." He took his hand away from his penis and took a breast in each hand again. "Have you ever had an orgasm?" I shivered as he kissed the soft flesh of the tops of my breasts gently.

"Oh yes, Sir. Lots." I was nervous but desire ran through me intoxicatingly. I had never been turned on like this outside of my imagination.

"And you bring these on yourself, do you?" He asked, still kissing and nipping my taunt, young flesh.

"Yes, Sir. By touching myself." He continued to caress me.

"Could you....." he paused.... "Show me?" I was scared and startled but longed to touch my aching hole. Without speaking, I stood and removed my knickers. He moved away and sat on a chair a few feet away. I moved back onto the desk and, shyly but longing to ease the dull ache, opened my legs. My pussy was puffy and neatly trimmed. The hair on it didn't quite match the hair on my head, which was a deep red, but it had an auburn hue. Mr. Newark gasped. "So pretty." He said, admiringly. "Show me, Beth." I leant back against the wall and, closing my eyes, placed two fingers on the hard bud, that ached so badly. Instantly it ached less and sparks flew through me. I rubbed it and moaned softly. I lost myself for a few moments, rubbing and rubbing, urgently trying to get myself off. When I opened my eyes moments later, I saw that Mr. Newark had released his penis from his shorts and was wanking it up and down, slowly but firmly, eyes flicking between my pert teenage breasts and my full, wet cunt. His penis was huge: much bigger than Olivers, much bigger than I imagined a penis could be. Even now, from the vantage point of many years and many cocks later, I can see that it was an extraordinarily large one. At least 9 or 10 inches long, and circumcised . He had a very Jewish look, dark and brooding, and clearly he was a Jew. His penis was also thick and solid, meaty and pink. Looking at it turned me on immensely, and my hole spasmed upon seeing it, as if it knew it needed to be plugged. I continued rubbing my hot little bean and thought these dirty, disgusting thoughts.

A few moments passed and I cried, animal little cries. I knew I was getting close. As if on cue, Mr. Newark rose, his shorts falling, and stepped out of them, stepping towards me, his huge and beautiful penis jutting out before him. He placed his fingers over mine, relieving me of my exertions, and rubbed for me, harder and faster than I had been doing.

"Touch your tits." He ordered, and I did, squeezing them and squeezing the nipples as I careered fast and hard towards the first orgasm of my life not administered by myself. He rubbed even harder and then suddenly I yelped as my innocent little love-box came, hard and wetly, the breath knocked from my lungs. I collapsed against the wall, breathless and hot. Mr. Newark looked thrilled and if anything his penis only seemed harder. As I lay, half dazed against the wall, he smirked. "Did you enjoy that, Beth?" I nodded.

"Yes, Sir."

"You came very hard." He said. I nodded.

"It was wonderful, Sir." He stroked the neat, red hair on my mound.

"Did young Oliver Mason make you cum like that?" He asked. I shook my head. "You need an older man to show you how it's done." I nodded. His fingers walked down to my hole, which had been neglected. "And you aren't a virgin?" I shook my head.

"No, Sir.

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