Katy on Being Horny

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I wake up wet. My fertility is at its peak. This is a monthly holiday for me, no matter where I am or what my responsibilities are. I love it so much that if I were a sex educator, which I am not, I would advise all girls never to go on hormonal birth control. What a waste!

It is dark in the morning again, and the November storms have just begun whipping in off the Pacific and taking down branches, trees and power lines. I wake up before my alarm (which is rare in the winter). My pussy is rocking with an orgasm from a dream in which I was making love to Sandeep in my classroom half-clothed, which was nice because it was it was positive, and it’s all about your attitude, you know? To be honest, I am getting a little bored of Sandeep. I asked him if he wanted to film me doing Shell with a dildo and he said he didn’t go in for that. Also he told me that he wished that I wouldn’t be so free with myself once he’d heard about Drew at the estuary last summer…Shell he doesn’t mind so much, being that she is a woman and I guess he thinks that she wouldn’t compete with him. Can you believe that?

I like for Shell to lie on top of me. She is so small, and soft, and doesn’t deflate my lungs with her weight. I could lie under her for hours, and sometimes I do, as long as her neglectful husband is out of town. Someday I just want to be in their bed eating her out when Zach comes home. Maybe he’d be so offended he would just leave her forever and stay in Corvallis where he seems to be getting no further with that dissertation. Maybe he would finally come to his senses and fuck her. In addition, me. Maybe he’d punish me a little. I can’t get anyone in this town to spank me.

I digress.

I like waking up with orgasms, but I always want more. I want to be in charge. I want to direct my fantasies and my hand. In my mind, I am setting up the video camera and tripod in Shell’s bedroom while she protests feebly. (She always protests and it’s always totally feeble. It’s like it’s for form: she’s lodged her moral complaint against my depredations and then I get to have my way, with her as an enthusiastic partner as inventive as I am.) I’m strapping on a harness and dildo. It’s a new dildo. Thicker than anything she’s had.

“No way!” she says. “That’s like hardcore!”

“You’ll like it,” I assure her.

“Well, but why do you want to tape it?”

I say, “Well, I’m coming in from behind and I just want to get off on the look on your face the moment I penetrate you with this big man, over and over and over. Mmmmm. Down on the bed. Now.” In my mind, she waves her white ass in my face.

I roll over onto my stomach and lift my ass into the air, taking Shell’s part in my mind. I lick my fingers and part my labia and make slow, soft circles for as long as I can. I begin panting. I rub my nipples lightly on the sheet. I increase the pressure on my clit and when I can’t take it any more, I shove my hips into the bed onto the hardness of my stiff fingers until I am crying out into the pillow, shaking with my second orgasm in the pale light of a rainy Oregon dawn.

I get up. Toast. Coffee. Scientific American and OPB simultaneously (absorbing little of either). Shower. Barrette holding uncombed hair in a wild bun with red ringlets artlessly framing delicate jawline. My standard school uniform: Boxers, Carharts, wool socks and boots (just because I can never predict if I’m going to take the students out for field studies or not). Rose-scented deodorant. Camisole with lace trim, tight scoop neck with long sleeves, wool plaid flannel. Lunch (turkey sandwich on bread that I made, and a banana). Keys. Gore-tex parka. Graded homework folder. Done, I’m out the door.

I walk to work. It’s just under two miles, and gives me time to plan my lessons for the izmir escort bayan day. I would rather think about trying to seduce Sandeep in the supply closet (my classroom being a room for fantasies and dreams only…let’s be clear). He won’t make love to me at school. Neither has Shell, yet. Ok, to give Sandeep credit, one night when we were both working very late to bang out grades for the second quarter, I gave him a blowjob…in the supply closet.

Adina and I have begun to make a quiet peace after she caught me and Sandeep in flagrante delicto in the dunes a year and a half ago. Things were a little weird in the science department at my school for quite some time, given that the three of us, Shell, Adina and I, are the sole science teachers, plus this Republican who is nearing retirement. He doesn’t have much of an impact. My hope is to seduce Adina soon; she’s so cute. She’s also so straight and so wounded still about her husband. He’s dead. You must think I am slightly heartless. Really, I’m not! I just want her so bad. I think sleeping with me would be good for her. I have this little fantasy that she bumps into me in the supply closet (really it’s the size of a little room, with a small window) as I am going out and she is going in. I hang out. I get her something off the top shelf. Who knows what she needs? She touches my forearm as a gesture of thanks. I grab her wrist. She stares at me. I lean over her a little. She looks up. I’m kissing her. She’s kissing me back. I cup her face in mine. I take her in my arms. I cup her round ass through her cords (she always wears cords for pants). I rub her breasts. I am the one to break away. In my fantasy, things are a little weird again (this time in an exciting way, of course), until she seeks me out a week later. We just so happen to find each other in the supply closet again. We talk inconsequentially awhile. It’s clear we’re hanging out. I’m sitting on the large stepladder, my knees wide like a boy. She kind of comes over to lean on the railing, and I hook my arm around her waist and then we’re kissing again. I get my hand up her chaste wool skirt until I’ve worked her panties down and then she’s between my knees and I have to get down to the bottom step so I can eat her out with my head under her skirt, my hands roaming all over her little ass. In my mind, she pants and her hips buck and she grips with railings of the stepladder in both hands. I just know it’s going to come true in just this way in less than a month. Or maybe by the next time I ovulate. Which would be in a month. Whatever. I just want her. Once I get her, I’ll fantasize about getting her with Shell, for a little threesome. I’ll wait on that fantasy though. I bet I could make that one come true in three months. Maybe Sandeep would be willing to film that, the three of us, especially if we each promised him some treat just for him. From each of us. But as I said, that fantasy should just wait. Mmmmmm.

What am I teaching today? Tides? My whole body is a rising high tide. I can hardly concentrate. I should probably just do my typical on-the-fly lesson, which is getting the kids outdoors to make observations from which they could then design an experiment or study. Ok. Now I have lessons for the next two weeks (I love science and living in a rural county on the ocean…the world is my chalkboard).

Back to sex. Fucking.

Fucking.

Bodies humping.

Slapping. Spanking. Cumming.

That’s all I can think about.

I think I’m kind of like a concupiscent thirteen-year-old boy in the frequency with which I think about sex. Oh, man, I wish everyone felt this way. Then there’d be so much more fucking and so much less fighting.

Within the last quarter of a mile, I try put my mind on my work and put my emotions escort izmir on a shelf. My hormones and the neurotransmitters in my brain cells have left their trace, and even just walking is arousing. My labia are still tumescent.

It takes discipline to put sex away.

I focus on the plants and the ducks I see in the river: Mallards and Buffleheads. Fair enough. A cormorant. A Great Blue Heron. I think about my principal, a very scary professional woman who demands perfection. Ok! Don’t think about sex!

I know human pheromones must be real. The first time I walked into a high school as a student teacher I was just stunned. The air had a chemical charge to it, perhaps faintly skunky, but not enough to smell, something just under normal perception.

I know my ovulation has an effect on others, and I know that I am one of the few women who is in touch with this, perhaps because so many women are on hormonal birth control. I can’t help but feel sorry for them. I do.

When I am fertile, I feel like a cat. I feel loose and alert.

People respond to me differently at this time. They compliment me more on my appearance. They stand close to me. Their parkas brush mine as we walk down the sidewalk together. Their shoulders rub mine. I am like a magnet.

The door to the school: Hall duty. Science-math block. Guitar. Prep period. Photocopies. Meeting with annoying Humanities teaching partner. Lunch. Science-math block. Faculty meeting where I was not the latest to arrive.

That was Shell.

After the meeting, she gives me an abashed smile. I wink. I say, “Hey, could you come to my room for a quick meeting?”

“Sure,” she says.

I’m in the supply closet when she arrives, pretending to organize beakers. She’s tense; she knows why I am in there, and I imagine she’s coming up with a stronger than feeble protest since I’m suggesting sex at school. She closes the door. It only locks from the outside, so if Adina or the Republican or the custodian need to come in, we are in BIG trouble. But not yet; Shell will need some convincing before I can get her pants off at school. So I just start with a conversation. I want to stick my hand down my own pants, but that would be a little fast for Shell. Then I decide I don’t care.

“Would you watch me while I get off?” I ask. I sit on the stepladder.

“Uh,” says Shell.

“Totally feeble,” I say, and open my fly. I close my eyes (mainly to make it easier for Shell to watch me.) My hand is under my boxers and my fingers are sifting through my trimmed hair. I breathe in deeply, and open my eyes to find her staring at me. I smile and hold her gaze.

“You’re totally stressed because you got a total evil eye for being late,” I say, closing my eyes again as a retreat back into private space.

“I was on the phone with a parent. Who’d called me. But winners don’t make excuses, isn’t that right?” Our principal’s mantra.

“Yeah,” I say, spreading my legs wider. I find my wetness and spread it in wide circles over my entire vulva.

I open my eyes. She’s staring at me with her mouth slightly parted. She’s breathing fast.

“I want to watch you get off,” I say.

“Katy…” she begins.

“You know you want to cum. You’re not unaffected by me. You want a taste. Why don’t you just start on yourself?”

“The door?”

“Oh, just go lock it on the outside. That way you’ll have time to pull your pants up if you hear Adina rattling her key.”

Shell does so, walking somewhat gingerly. Why? I’m sure her pussy is totally swollen and her labia were slipping all over themselves.

She comes back and stands squarely in front of my spread legs, not quite in them. Her hand snakes down the waistband of her jeans. Her legs are wide apart.

We izmir escort watch each other, each working on our own pussy.

“Get over here,” I say.

She complies.

I work her pants over her hips and push her panties down to mid-thigh. I grab the small of her back and pull her to my face. I bury my face in her muff, using my nose, my chin, to grind at her mons. She smells of cumin and pepper, so clean and spicy. I breathe her in. I lick and lick. I lick her belly, her thighs, the slit, the clit. I put one of my hands back on myself, and with my other, I force her legs wider. I make her lean over me. I am under her. She’s panting. She won’t moan out loud. It’s too dangerous.

I use my hands on her hips to hold her to my face, and then I slip one hand down her inner thigh and up to the long cleft of her ass. I wedge my fingers inside and rest them on her anus. She stiffens and stops the grind of her hips into my face.

“Sh,” I say, withdrawing to her ass cheek.

She relaxes, so I wedge my finger into the cleft again. She clenches her cheeks but keeps grinding.

I tilt my head away. “You can do this,” I say. “You want it.”

She relaxes somewhat, and I stroke her cleft until she trusts me and her cheeks are pliable and I can spread them. I rub her cleft from top to bottom. I dip my fingers into her pussy and get them wet. I trail this wetness up to her anus. With the tip of my finger, I press gently against the opening. Her breathing is ragged. Her hips stop but she does not pull away from me, or tighten her ass. She is leaning over me with her eyes closed.

“Slowly,” I whisper, and I push my finger in not at all far. She is tight. I move my finger in small circles. I am sucking on her clit. I push my finger in farther. I massage her anus. She takes it. I embed my finger. I pull out a little, and then in. She takes it. With my other arm I am hugging her around her middle. I am grinding my face into her pussy. She is breathing so fast. She is stifling her moans. She is cumming in waves. Above me her hips rock, and I can feel the waves inside her through the muscles of her anus.

I withdraw slowly, and pull her panties up for her. She lies down on the floor up the supply closet. Closes her eyes.

I finish myself off quickly, watching her the entire time.

Adina must have gone home to pick up her daughter at after school daycare. No worries. The Republican never stays late and the custodian probably won’t be in until 7:00 in the evening.

I get down on the floor with Shell.

We lie there spooning for another five minutes while her breathing settles. She starts pushing on my pants. She wants them down. I flip on my back and let her remove them, inside out down to my damn hiking boots (which are dusty with dried mud). She pushes my ankles up to my ass and spreads my knees out, kneeling between them. She eats me and shoves four fingers up my pussy. I writhe under her. She spreads me wide. Her warm tongue probes my clit. I push the three layers of clothes on my upper body up and play with my nipples until she has me too distracted to pay attention to anything but her fingers and her tongue. That’s all I can think about. My back is arching. My hips are spinning in circles. My fourth orgasm of the day. I don’t plan on it being the last.

She pulls herself up and lies on my chest. I smile at her and shove my hand back under her panties where I can cup her ass cheek.

“Shell,” I say.

“What?” she asks drowsily.

“Would you do a ménage-a-trois with me?”

“I’d agree to just about anything right now, I feel so good,” she answered.

I take her hand and put it back on my pussy, just cupping it.

“Tonight?” I asked.

“What are you kidding?” The feeble protest. There will be a few more.

“I’m totally serious,” I say. “With a man.”

“Are you kidding?” she asks.

“No…I was thinking Drew.”

Her fingers start playing with my pussy again.

That’s how I know I’ll get what I want.

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