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.
