The store room was dusty and had the unmistakable smell about it of the unwanted. It wasn’t so much a place to store things as to bury them, it sometimes seemed to her. Every book, machine, chair, desk, shelf and eraser that was no longer needed at the school was delivered here. She’d never seen anyone remove anything, yet the room seemed to be able to swallow anything and everything.

She liked it in here. Or rather, she liked the view from up here, on the second floor. She would come here whenever she had a moment; come here to be alone. Not that she needed to be alone. She was alone quite enough as it was, with her husband away again for the week on account of his work.

No, what she really came up here for was the view of the playing fields. This was an all male sports academy, and there were always young men outside, running, jumping, stretching, jostling. They were all aged sixteen to eighteen; all transforming their bodies into muscular performance machines. They didn’t have to take their shirts off for that to be obvious, but she liked it when they did. They always seemed to be glistening with sweat, and she could almost feel the salt on her tongue. Sometimes she wished there was a way of sneaking into the changing rooms or the shower, but that was of course impossible, and would most likely land her in all kinds of trouble.

Still, they couldn’t stop a woman from dreaming, could they? The academy offered a well-rounded education, since far from all of the boys were likely to scale the excessively remunerated heights of the sporting world. Her job was to teach English – so that the students would be perfectly equipped to utter post-match clichés in impeccably constructed sentences – and she did it with the utmost propriety, always in tan coloured nylons, knee-length skirts, and blouses buttoned to the neck so as to show no hint of cleavage.

Not that she imagined the boys were in the slightest bit interested in her anyway. She was, after all, on what people called the wrong side of fifty, though she wondered about that ‘wrong’ idea. Certainly her sexual appetites had never been stronger than they were now, and where was her husband when she needed him?

She stared down at where one of the boys was pulling off his shirt. A ripple of desire ran through her as she regarded his perspiration-smeared skin. He looked virile; they all did, these not-quite-men. She would have loved for him to pull his shorts off too, but that just wasn’t going to happen; any more than she was ever going to feel him on top of her, between her thighs, exhaling loudly as she dragged her tongue across his salty pecs.

Her hands moved, fingers undoing the top button of her blouse, then the next one. Down below sturdy, youthful, vigorous, well-trained bodies moved; boys busy becoming perfect physical specimens. No, whatever the rights and wrongs of it, they couldn’t stop her dreaming, the way she sometimes dreamed during idle moments in the classroom, when she’d set the boys some task or other.

Her fingers undoing first the top button, then the next as she sat behind her desk. By the time the third button came undone, one or two of the boys had noticed what was happening. She smiled, the boys staring open mouthed. Her fingers worked, button after button coming undone as one by one the boys all noticed what she was doing. There was complete silence, the way there never was in the classroom otherwise.

She shrugged the blouse from her shoulders, smiling at the boys, who still appeared to be in a state of shock. Reaching back, she quickly unhooked the bra, sliding the straps from her shoulders, displaying breasts that hardly seemed to have been touched by the hands of time. She touched them, sliding her hands over them; then rolled the nipples between her fingers, pulling on them slightly as if offering them to the assembled class; all of the boys still gaping, open-mouthed.

Where she was standing, there was no danger of being seen from the door, concealed as she was by shelves groaning under the weight of age old books. Naked from the waist up, she rolled her nipples between her fingers, looking down at the muscular boys, one or two more now having removed their shirts; young bodies she yearned to push against with her own naked torso, rubbing her stiff nipples up against hard muscle. They looked so strong and virile. With their youth and their strength… She imagined they could go on and on. How long? Very long, she was sure.

Becoming aware of heat and moisture between her legs, she hitched up her skirt. She always wore hold-ups, because they made her feel naughty. How was anybody ever going to know, anyway? Touching the outside of her panties, she realised just how much moisture had seeped into them. But she was used to that by now; feeling the damp even in the classroom. Her lust for the boys was so great. Just look at them! They were forbidden fruit, but she could dream. Nobody could stop her dreaming, could they?

Sitting on the desk, naked from the waist up, she continued to smile at the pupils. Normally when she sat here in front of them she kept her legs crossed, but now, with her skirt hitched up to the waist, she parted them. She had the students’ full attention, the way she never did otherwise.

There was no way they could avoid seeing the damp patch on her knickers. ‘See what you do to me,’ she wanted to say, but she said nothing, letting her actions speak instead as she slid a hand inside her underwear. The finger that slid down between her folds found her clit almost instantly. Stifling a moan she slid her finger further down, to where a creamy substance slowly oozed out of her.

Inevitably it was the boys at the back who were the first to come forward. “That’s very good, boys,” she told them, as they stood one on either side of her, fondling her breasts, then leaning in to clamp their lips round taut nipples. This encouraged others to come forward, and soon there was a crowd. Young, eager hands touched her; feeling, groping, all wanting their share of the action.

Their faces became a blur. She had no idea who it was that pulled her panties to one side, nor did she care. She pulled her hand away, allowing whoever so desired to slide his own fingers inside her. The boys were too young to be experienced, but they more than made up for it in enthusiasm. A flood of natural lubrication gathered inside her and leaked onto the desk. Tongues lashed at her nipples. One of the boys was tilting her head back and kissing her – well, shoving his tongue into her mouth.

Further down a different tongue probed her moist cavern. She stretched out her arms, not having to move much before her hands touched uniforms and wandered swiftly to revealing bulges, which she stroked and squeezed longingly. Hands and mouths were all over every part of her; ravenous boys, feasting on teacher, as if they were trying to devour her.

Panties pulled to one side, she stood at the window with parted legs, pushing two fingers into herself. The loud squishing didn’t matter. She was completely alone, after all. She was always alone. Down below the boys ran and jumped and stretched and jostled. Strong, youthful bodies.

She may be responsible for their minds, but she wanted their bodies. Oh how she wanted their bodies! She knew them all by name, but as she worked her fingers back and forth inside herself, she didn’t care who they were. They were just hunky, virile bodies to her, flesh for her fantasies. Because nobody could stop her dreaming, could they?

She was on her back on the desk, legs spread. The boys crowded round; still touching, feeling, groping, kissing, licking – all over her fevered body. She couldn’t be sure if she’d unzipped the boy or if he’d unzipped himself, but suddenly his phallic pride was there, out in the open. Such a big cock for one so young.

She shifted her head to the edge of the desk, turning it sideways and parting her lips. They were all staring at her now, with eyes full of naked lechery as the thick meat was eased into her mouth. A hand was stroking her pussy, fingers stirring the moisture that flowed in a never-ending stream. Fingers pinched her nipples. She reached out. There was another naked cock, just waiting for her to grab hold of it and work it.

Fingers probed her, a tongue slashed at her clit. Hands roamed her stomach and the insides of her thighs. Her breasts were squeezed hard, and suddenly, wherever she looked, it seemed as if there were naked cocks, the boys pushing and jostling to be next to experience her mouth.

“Be nice, boys,” she said.

“You’ll all get your turn.”

They would too, all of them. Just as all of them would have their fingers squeezed by her greedy vagina, just as all of them would taste the hot, creamy arousal that continued to flow, just as all of them would squeeze and suck on her breasts over and over again, so she would taste them all. One by one they fed her their eager cocks. Fingers were digging into her all the time, hands groping her breasts all the time, lips all over her, all the time. One by one she let them enter her mouth and move, some hesitant, some more forceful, more often than not their inexperience on display, but without it mattering a jot.

She heard a noise, the sound of rubber sole squeaking on floor. Not quite in the present, but knowing that she hadn’t heard the door, which she in any case always locked from the inside, she turned her head, just to check.

Quite how he came to be there, she had no idea, but there was one of the boys, staring at her where she stood, with her breasts still on display and two fingers still pushing up into her moist tunnel.

“How did you get in?” “What are you doing here?” Even, “Please don’t tell anyone.” These were just some of the things she might have said. But held captive by her reverie, what she actually said was, “Fuck me!” Just like that. “Fuck me!”

She turned away from the boy, removing her fingers from the warmth of her vagina to place both hands on the window sill and thrust her behind back at him. Down below, well-trained, muscular boys were running, jumping, stretching, jostling. She heard a zip being pulled, felt the boy’s hands on her. Then his eager young spear was pushing against her labia. This had to be a dream, didn’t it? And they couldn’t stop her dreaming, could they?

She wasn’t sure how her panties had disappeared, whether she’d taken them off herself, or one or more of the boys had. She had one knee up on the desk, the other foot planted firmly on the floor. Rampant, lustful, youthful flesh surrounded her. There was wild chatter, most of it centred on who was to be first.

“Boys! Boys!” she cried. “One at a time! Form an orderly queue!”

She was surprised when they obeyed, noise levels dropping. But she was pleased too. She wanted them all, and this way she knew she’d have them all, one by one.

The first of the boys penetrated her. It excited her that he felt big, very big, but she didn’t want to compliment him on his size in case it made any of the others feel inadequate. She just stood there, letting his strong hands hold her in a firm grip as he thrust his granite rod into her. She was breathing heavily, groaning as the thick meat stretched her, juices trickling down her thigh. She’d gladly let him go on until he was satisfied, but there were nineteen more to go.

“Next!” she said.

The boy obediently made way for his friend. She felt a new cock fill her, this one more than a match for the one before. Hands clutched at her breasts as he began to thrust. For whatever reason, the boy proved unable to contain himself. There was a loud grunt, then she felt the wild twitching of his cock as his seed poured out into her eager vagina. She let him stand there, his fingers digging into her mammaries while his climax played out.

“Next!” she said.

This was how it was. Eighteen more boys ploughed their stiff cocks into her from behind. She stood there, breathing heavily, moaning with lust. The boys, being well-trained, hardly broke into a sweat. Some overheated quite quickly, delivering their loads inside her; others were still hard when she barked out, “Next!” None of them were put off by their friends’ semen being inside her, or the amount that had dribbled back out and dripped onto the floor.

“Next!”

She’d lost count of how many she’d had and how many she had left. As she was penetrated yet again, the boys who had fucked her already and were still hard gathered in front of her, tugging on their proud erections. Fingers pinched her nipples as one of the boys rammed his cock into her. She groaned out loud, knowing that reaching back and touching her clit now would probably set her off.

Balancing with one hand on the window sill, she rubbed her clit frantically as the boy thrust his cock into her. Below her, on the playing fields, boys were running, jumping, stretching, jostling, but they were all a blur now. Her hand ached, but she wasn’t going to stop. She could feel her vagina clinging to the boy for dear life as he thrust every last inch of his steely rod into her without a word; over and over, over and over.

Yes, yes! She was almost there. Could the boy sense it? His hands, which had been on her breasts throughout, squeezed harder. Her nipples were tense and practically vibrating. She thought he was upping his pace, as if he was trying to fuck the orgasm out of her. He didn’t need to. The climax was on top of her. She was groaning uncontrollably.

Unable to control her body, she felt herself topple. The boy caught her as she fell. Ending up facing him, slumped against the wall beneath the window, she could see his still erect organ in front of her. Still in a daze, she reached out and grabbed it. This had to be a dream, didn’t it? And they couldn’t stop her dreaming, could they?

The boys had somehow bundled her onto the desk again. Sperm was leaking out of her onto the desk, but she had no idea how many of them had actually ejaculated in her. What she did know was that there were plenty of erect cocks left. She was holding one of them in her hand, while one of the other boys twisted her head. What he wanted was obvious. Still in a daze from her climax, she nevertheless parted her lips for the boy to feed her.

There was a great bellow. Then sperm was splashing onto her neatly trimmed bush. She heard laughter. “Couldn’t hold it back, eh?” someone said.

“Fuck, she’s hot,” the bellower replied.

Normally she’d admonish him for his language, but this was not a time for that. This was a time to let the boys do whatever they wanted. Thick, young meat was moving in her mouth. Hands were all over her, wild fingers pinching her nipples. Other fingers were back inside her pussy, moving around, unafraid of the mass of mingled sperm inside her.

She had both hands occupied now, moving them instinctively. The boy in her mouth was expanding and she twisted her head; she’d choke if he came this deep in her mouth. She received the blast full on her lips and chin, dimly aware of the thick cream sliding across her and dripping onto the desk as two boys, one on either side of her, came all over her breasts at the same time.

A new cock slid between her semen-coated lips as the ejaculate was rubbed into her boobs. Fingers and hands were still all over her, stroking her thighs where her legs were parted wide. There were new ejaculations, splashing onto her pussy lips at the same time as a load was delivered on her mouth. She hardly knew where she was anymore, or what she was doing, except living her reverie.

The boy was straddling her. She sat there with his cock in her hand, arm aching from the exertion, able to tell from the look in his eyes that he wasn’t far from ejaculating.

Mouth open wide, she slid her tongue out, staring at the big bulbous head as her arm worked and worked. The boy hardened to titanium in her hand. He grunted loudly. She felt the splash on her upper lip, then sperm dripping onto her tongue as more spurted straight into her mouth. It felt like there was a flood of the stuff, spurting between and round her lips, but all good things must come to an end, and after what felt like an eternity, she knew she’d milked the boy dry.

She closed her mouth to swallow. Above her the boy was grinning as he tucked his organ away and zipped up. “Don’t worry, Mrs Dochie,” he said. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

It had to be a dream, didn’t it? Even though she could clearly hear the door to the store room close behind the boy. Yes, of course it was a dream. And because they couldn’t stop her dreaming, she moved one hand down between her thighs, feeling a rope of sperm separate from her chin and land on her breasts. She...