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I am sure she must have felt my hardness. “Welcome,” she purred in my ears. And soon I was greeted by Sanjay, we settled in sofas and had a casual conversation while having tea. Soon our talk shifted to various sexual fantasies. I noticed Sanjay had now started caressing those milky thighs.Shweta was gradually widening her legs. I was damn sure she was wet down there. Soon they started smooching. Sanjay placed his hand over her groin area and started rubbing over shorts while Shweta pinched her own tits. This made me horny like hell. While smooching she signaled me to come near her.I obliged immediately. She started feeling my tenting cock over denim. I bent down and started licking her milky thigh. Soon Sanjay followed. I guess right now there was no plan as such. We were heading towards unknown and reacting spontaneously.Both of us started licking toes of each of her leg and gradually moved upward towards her groin area. I could smell the aroma of her wet pussy now. Shweta was. A second finger was pressed into her quivering sex and she gasped. Bracing herself on his shoulders, Darla dug her nails into him and her breathing deepened as she suddenly felt her orgasm growing. ‘’Yes! Right there…keep your fingers inside me.’’ She moaned. Her thighs started to shake and her nipples tingled as pleasure washed over her body, she grasped onto the back of his head and held him pressed close as she rode the waves of pleasure coursing through her. ‘’OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH YES!’’ Her eyes rolled back in her head and she groaned with her thighs closed around his head as she came hard on his fingers. Breathing deeply to steady herself she felt him standing and lifting her into his arms and the feel of satin sheets appeared beneath her as she was laid out on the bed. The glow of her orgasm still throbbing through the depths of her body, she sighed and smiled quietly to herself. Opening her eyes she saw him standing over her, his jeans laid forgotten on the floor and his.
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Our English mistress was called Miss Walters. She was in her mid-40s and very beautiful, if a little harsh. She always wore very tight blouses through which you could often see the dark outline of her bra. She must have been at least a 40DD: they were bloody enormous! Sometimes she didn’t wear a bra, and you could see her enormous nipples. I guess I had a bit of a crush on Miss Walters: I couldn’t stop looking at her breasts, the way she crossed her stockinged legs, her elegant high-heeled shoes that I longed to wear. I hated our uniform: bottle green pleated gymslip, scratchy blouse, a tie even in summer, white or blue regulation knickers. In winter we wore tights but in summer we had to wear long white knee socks which I hated with a passion. It seemed ludicrous at 18 still to be forced into such outfits. We all wanted to dress up in stockings, to look like the adults we were.Anyway as we sat there that sleepy Friday afternoon, at the back of the class, I began day-dreaming about.

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