I lock eyes with my babysitter, Mrs. Jones, who is kneeling naked between my volleyball coach's legs, her hand firmly gripping his shaft and her mischievous smile aimed directly at me. My tongue darts out, moistening my lips, as I imagine the coach's cock sliding between them, filling my mouth, and coating my tongue with his flavor.

"Mmm..." I unintentionally moan, biting my lip and clearing my throat to hide it.

"Amy, my sweet little girl," Mrs. Jones purrs, her voice like molten honey cutting through the haze of my trance. "Show the coach just how good you can be. It will be our little secret."

She winks at me, and I'm tempted to join in on the fun. The sinful thought of giving my teacher a blowjob causes wetness to pool between my thighs. But I stay seated on the couch next to the coach, my heart pounding in a frenetic rhythm that mirrors my dangerous yearning.

"Amy's not a little girl," the coach says, grinning as his gaze sweeps over my bare curves.

The way my name rolls off his tongue makes me want to hear him whisper it breathlessly when he cums inside me.

All of my teammates have a crush on the coach and would be extremely jealous if they knew I got to suck his cock. The thought of being his dirty little secret excites me even more.

"Now that Amy's eighteen, she's a woman who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to go after it," the coach continues, locking eyes with me. "Isn't that right, Amy?"

I stare into his mesmerizing hazel eyes, the excitement that he sees me as more than just a player bubbling up inside me.

"Yes, coach," I say confidently, just like in a match where I know exactly what play to make.

Standing up on my wobbly legs, I can feel my heart pounding in my cheeks as I kneel beside Mrs. Jones on the floor.

What now? I've never given anyone a blowjob. Yes, I have seen Mrs. Jones do it before, but doing it myself is a completely different story. What if I'm not good at it? What if he doesn't like it? Having a crush on him makes me want to impress him, but how when my hands are shaking with nerves?

Mrs. Jones gives me a warm smile as if she can read my mind, guiding my trembling right hand to his shaft, and whispers, "Just wrap your fingers around it and move up and down."

As soon as her hand releases his throbbing hardness, mine takes its place, his rigid length pulsing in my gentle grip. I slowly begin to move my hand up and down his shaft, the residue of Mrs. Jones' saliva lubricating the movement. The skin feels velvety against my palm, and his erection grows firmer with each stroke.

Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I continue to rub him, too shy to meet his piercing stare. Instead, I focus on the glistening mushroom head, which begs for more attention. Pre-cum beads are at the tip, and every fiber of my being craves to lick them off. Can he tell how much I want to taste him?

"You're doing great, honey," Mrs. Jones encourages, wrapping her hand around mine to help me find the right rhythm.

A deep groan rumbles from his throat as Mrs. Jones subtly increases the pressure, causing his hips to buck involuntarily. She knows exactly what she's doing, so I try to replicate her technique. As I imitate her movements, she loosens her grip slightly, allowing me to move at my pace.

Finally, I muster the courage to meet his eyes, and I notice him watching us with a smug smile on his lips. His grin widens, daring me to go further. In response, I lean forward, my lips slightly parted.

Our eyes remain locked as my tongue darts out to tease the tip of his cock, swirling and tasting his pre-cum. At first, the flavor is subtle, elusive, and faint. But as I keep licking, the taste intensifies, filling my mouth with mild saltiness and a hint of musk.

As I greedily explore, I trace the small band of tissue hidden beneath the bulbous purple head. My delicate lick causes his erection to twitch, and I can't help but giggle with excitement that I can elicit such a response from him.

"It likes you!" Mrs. Jones chuckles and lets go of my hand, and I continue on my own.

Keeping my fingers wrapped around the base, I glide my wide tongue up and down his straining erection, tasting the salty-sweetness of his skin. The more I taste, the more I crave his intimate flavor, my tongue a willing slave to his pleasure. With each flick and swirl, I hear his ragged breaths quicken.

I look up at him, a playful smile on my lips, wondering how else I can get him to react. His breath catches as I apply more pressure with my tongue, feeling how stiff he becomes under my attention.

"Take it in your mouth, sweetheart," Mrs. Jones purrs.

A wave of desire washes over me, and my mouth waters as I long to taste him fully. My smile fades as I look into the coach's seductive dark chocolate eyes, open my mouth wide, and lean forward, my tongue tingling with excitement for the flavors I'm about to experience.

Wrapping my lips around the bulbous head, my tongue presses against the rock-hard member, caressing it with sensual strokes as I suckle delicately, unsure of how much suction he desires.

"That's it," Mrs. Jones whispers. "Go deeper, but be mindful of your teeth. You don't want to scrape his sensitive flesh."

Following her advice, I take his thick hardness deeper into my warm, inviting mouth. I begin to move my head, gliding up and down his pulsating staff while my hand gently cradles the base of his shaft.

"Now, combine your hand movements with your mouth," Mrs. Jones instructs. "And remember, when it comes to sucking a cock, enthusiasm is key."

With my lips sealed tightly around him, I create a vacuum with my mouth, my cheeks hollowing as I apply more suction while my hand strokes the rest of his length. His cock throbs in my mouth, and my vaginal walls contract in desperation to feel him inside me.

My juices flow as I move my head in a slow rhythm, my lips gliding smoothly along his hardness with every stroke. I mimic the technique Mrs. Jones demonstrated, wondering about her own experiences. How many lovers has she had in her lifetime?

Despite being in her fifties and married for so long, I'm sure Mrs. Jones has a lot of secrets and stories to share, especially from her younger days. Her beauty defies her age, and I can only imagine the wild adventures she must have had. And now here she is, sharing her skills with me while having an affair with my coach.

My cheeks flush with arousal as Mrs. Jones, my neighbor, watches intently. Her lover's cock disappears deeper into my mouth with each deliberate bob of my head, my lips gliding smoothly down the shaft, leaving a trail of glistening saliva in its wake. My hand strokes the base, feeling the pulse of his excitement beneath my touch.

"Am I doing it right, Mrs. Jones?" I ask, my voice breathless.

"Oh yes, just like that, my sweet girl," Mrs. Jones murmurs, her voice full of approval.

With a slight tilt of my head, my mouth welcomes him deeper until he reaches the sensitive depths of my throat. A gag reflex threatens to surface, but I push through, my lips wrapped around him like a vice.

Mrs. Jones runs her fingers through my hair, whispering, "Such a good girl. Remove your hand. Only use your mouth now."

My fingers relax their hold on his cock as I follow her instructions like a good, obedient girl. There is something thrillingly naughty about being told what to do, and I can feel the heat rising in my core as I long to please both of them.

With my palms on my thighs for support, I lean forward, feeling Mrs. Jones' grip on my hair tighten. The coach's cock glides in and out of my mouth with controlled thrusts, her gentle pressure encouraging me to take more of him with each push.

My throat tightens around the swelling peak of his cock, tears pooling in the corners of my eyes as I try to suppress the gag reflex and resist the urge to pull away. Mrs. Jones pushes my head down further to get me to take him deeper until I'm gagging and choking.

"Just relax, sweetheart," Mrs. Jones says softly. "Breathe through your nose."

The feeling of my throat constricting around him is intense, but I focus on Mrs. Jones' calming words and try to relax as much as possible. She holds my head still, ensuring that about half of his length is buried in the warmth of my mouth while I adjust to the sensation.

"Push through, honey," Mrs. Jones encourages me. "You're doing great."

As his cock slides further down my throat, I can't breathe and begin to panic, but I trust Mrs. Jones, knowing she would never let any harm come to me.

"Now swallow," she instructs as she guides my head downward, urging me to take more.

I force myself to swallow, his cock penetrating deeper into my throat, the pressure building as I fight the urge to gag.

"That's it, sweetheart," Mrs. Jones coaxes, maintaining a steady pressure on the back of my head.

Tears run down my cheeks as I struggle for breath, and a stream of saliva trickles down his shaft as I gag on his length, my throat clenching around his thickness.

"Mmm, that's it, sweety. You're so close," Mrs. Jones says, her voice full of excitement.

Her words motivate me, and I push myself harder. Tears stream down my cheeks as my throat rebels against the invasion, but I refuse to give up, allowing Mrs. Jones to guide my head further down on his cock.

"Keep going, you're doing amazing!" she urges, her voice filled with pride.

I strive to swallow every inch, my lips nearing the base, but my body trembles in a struggle against the overwhelming sensation until I gag violently and pull back, gasping for air.

Mrs. Jones relaxes her grasp on my hair and gently strokes it, whispering, "It's okay, sweetheart. Just breathe."

Saliva drips from my chin, and tears flow freely because I let Mrs. Jones down. I wanted the coach to cum down my throat, but I just couldn't handle it.

"Good thing you barely ate breakfast," Mrs. Jones says, gently wiping away my tears with her thumb.

"I failed," I cry, my voice breaking.

"No, my sweet little girl," Mrs. Jones murmurs softly, cradling my face in her hands. "You were perfect." My sobs subside a little as Mrs. Jones continues to comfort me. "That was an excellent first attempt at a deep throat. It'll get easier with practice."

"Okay," I breathe, hoping she's right.

Mrs. Jones smiles warmly. "Are you hungry?"

I frown, puzzled by the unexpected question in the midst of my distress.

She chuckles softly and explains, "Sperm contains a lot of protein, vitamins, and minerals. It would make a nutritious breakfast. Do you want to try it?"

My eyes widen in surprise at her suggestion. I've been wanting to taste the coach's cum, but I've never even had sperm in my mouth before, let alone eaten it.

Mrs. Jones grins. "It's a special treat for good girls like you."

I glance at the coach, who is watching us closely, his straining erection visibly throbbing against his thigh.

"Alright," I breathe, worried if I will get him to ejaculate in my mouth. To disappoint them again would be so embarrassing.

With a playful smile, Mrs. Jones takes hold of his shaft, stroking it as she locks eyes with the coach. "John, I believe our little girl here is hungry. Let's feed her, shall we?"

The coach can only respond with a throaty grunt as Mrs. Jones' hand tightens around the head of his cock, turning it a deep purple. Leaning in, she whispers conspiratorially in my ear, "Are you ready for your morning feast?"

I nod, saliva pooling in my mouth, as Mrs. Jones guides his cock towards my waiting lips.

"Open wide," she instructs.

I part my lips and stick out my tongue, eager to taste sperm for the first time. Mrs. Jones vigorously rubs his cock, eliciting a loud groan from the coach. Milky white ropes of cum burst onto my outstretched tongue, coating it in a warm, salty liquid. The sensation is electrifying, and I feel like a porn star caught up in a wild, forbidden fantasy come true.

As the coach's jelly-like essence fills my mouth, my clit aches for relief, and nectar pours down my thighs. Mrs. Jones continues to stroke him, spewing thick, sticky cum onto my face, dripping down my chin, and landing on my heaving chest. This is so hot!

With each exhale, his ragged breathing gradually calms down, and the intense release of cum subsides.

"Swallow it," Mrs. Jones instructs.

I obey, gulping down the salty liquid, feeling deliciously naughty as it slides down my throat.

Mrs. Jones licks her lips, then extends her tongue, gliding it delicately across the glistening tip of the coach's cock, cleaning up the sticky residue.

"A sight to behold," the coach grumbles, his gaze fixed on the cum on my face.

"Amy is such a good girl, isn't she, John?" Mrs. Jones remarks.

The coach smiles, visibly relaxed, his eyes hazy and distant. "Yes, she certainly is."

I beam with pride at the praise.

"You certainly marked your territory, John," Mrs. Jones says with a smirk as she wipes some of John's cum off my face with her finger and licks it seductively.

"And she took it all like a champ," the coach adds with a chuckle, making my cheeks flush.

"Let me clean you up," Mrs. Jones whispers as she leans in, her tongue darting out to lick the coach's cum off my face.

I close my eyes and shiver as her warm tongue traces my skin before licking the mess on my lips. As she presses her plump lips against mine, her cum-covered tongue slides into my mouth, swirling around mine in a sloppy kiss, the coach's sperm creating a heady blend of flavors.

My arousal spikes as I feel her hand slip between my legs, her fingers teasing and exploring, and I forget the coach is even in the same room as I give in to the pleasure she's giving me.

"Mmm," Mrs. Jones moans as she moves away, her fingers still buried in my wetness. "There, all clean now."

As I open my eyes, I see Mrs. Jones staring at a dark, damp stain on the beige carpet, just beneath where I had been sitting moments before. During our passionate kiss, my excitement overtook me, and I shifted slightly to the side.

"Oh my, look at the mess you made. You naughty girl," Mrs. Jones teases, her fingers lazily dipping out of me and slowly circling my swollen bud before sliding back in.

A blush burns across my cheeks as I try to stifle a moan, feeling both embarrassed and aroused by Mrs. Jones's playful scolding.

Her voice drops to a whisper. "You need to cum so badly, don't you, sweetheart?"

My pearl throbs, and my vaginal muscles clench around her fingers, revealing my desire.

"Yes," I breathe.

"Look how wet you are, honey." Mrs. Jones slowly withdraws her fingers, glistening with my nectar, and brings them to the coach's lips. He licks them clean, holding her gaze.

"You're right," he says to Mrs. Jones, then looks at me with a lazy grin. "Amy is delicious."

Mrs. Jones chuckles. "John, our little Amy here gave you so much pleasure. Don't you think it's only fair that you return the favor?"

My breath comes in quick gasps as desire rushes through my veins, with every nerve ending alive and craving more.

The coach smirks in silent agreement, and Mrs. Jones turns to me. "Amy, do you want to let John help ease that ache between your legs?"

Do I?

TO BE CONTINUED...

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