I went to teen my locker, checked my hair…touched my lips with some lipstick…put all my books, except my English book, in the locker and walked to Mr. Emerson’s room. He was in the back office at a desk and reading something. Maybe he had forgotten about me…I walked into his office and stood there…the light was behind me and I wondered if Mr. Emerson could see the outline of my body through my dress. Finally, he looked up…saw me…smiled, said: “Oh yes Sherry…I almost forgot. Come in and close the door. I closed the door and walked to his little desk. We were alone and I wondered about it all. “Let’s talk,” he said, “about poetry and why we study it…how you will learn to enjoy it because, after all, lots of poetry is about love and affection.” I was blushing and felt a thrill. I didn’t know why. Mr. Emerson opened a book on his desk and motioned me over beside him. I was breathing strangely and stood beside him looking down at the book. “This is the writing of Walt Whitman,” he rae said, “and much of his poetry is about love and feelings…read this part.” I leaned over to look at the words and his arm went around my waist. anal It was warm and I wiggled very slightly and began to read the poem about men and women and “feeling myself…alive” and Mr. Emerson was rubbing my back. “What do you think,” he asked. “It’s nice,” I said, not knowing what else to say and then blurted out: “Your hand feels nice on my back Mr. Emerson.” and he rubbed up and down my spine. My legs were getting weak and I moved into him. “Are you okay?” he asked and I could only nod and hope he wouldn’t stop rubbing me. “I need a good grade,” I finally murmured. Mr. Emerson said: “I know” and now his hand was on my bare leg, more rubbing. I parted my legs…I was telling him something…that he was arousing me, exciting me, that I wanted a good grade and more. His hand was so exciting and blowjob soft on me. “You have soft skin,” he whispered and I opened more. His hand traveled past my knee, rubbing above my knee…I took hold of the sides of the desk and waited…”gosh!” I oozed, “Mr. Emerson!” I held myself. We were alone in his office, the door closed, “Lock the door, Sherry,” he said and I did. “Come here you beautiful girl. I think there is an ‘A’ in your future.” I nodded and returned to his side, legs apart. Now both his hands were under my dress. I took a deep breath and looked down at him and smiled. “You shouldn’t be doing that, Mr. Emerson,” I said. He looked up at me, smiling, saying: “You’re right. Do you like what I shouldn’t be doing to you?” “Mr. Emerson, that feels nice, really…[gasp][flex] really…Oh God!” his Cassidey fingers were inside my skimpy panties and feeling my cunt. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Milan notices my excitement anal as well, apparently, and I see a roguish smile developing. My eyes landed on a suspended sandbag in the middle blowjob of the room, and figured it was the rae best way to let off some steam. Usually the girls had some sort of excuse. We try to avoid fakes and flakes. My coiled tail clenched and relaxed on his body, squeezing Cassidey air out of him in wondrous gasps. Raoul and Miguel sat at the bar, drinking bottles of Corona and checking out all the hot asses. The teen couple stand, pulling Cynthia to her feet. Why not this? “So, Nick... “Me either” one of the other boys said. He initialed the paperwork and then threw the flap back over her face, not even bothering to zip it back up.