Jenny Carter finds the Steep Slope

Jenny Carter drank the last of the margarita and then poured another from the pitcher. It was afternoon, she reasoned, and sipped the new drink as she studied herself in the long mirror at the end of the dining area. She was perhaps 5' 4", and was wearing three inch heels to make up for what she considered her shortness. Her shoulder length, wavy black hair, lightened by a few natural light brown streaks was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and she had on a sweater and a knee length skirt. Except that she noticed the skirt was a bit higher than her knees -- still long enough, she judged, for a new teacher to wear.

She was very pretty, with a small straight nose, a slightly angular face with high cheekbones and round bluish green eyes and nice, full lips that always appeared on the verge of a smile. Her long dark brown hair fell in curly waves to her shoulders when she did not have it put up or in a ponytail.

Most guys would say that her lips made her look like a natural cocksucker, but none had ever said that to her. The square rimmed glasses finished the effect of the innocent schoolteacher.

Jenny had been married less than two weeks, and was at the moment all alone in their house -- her husband had had to go out of town right after their honeymoon, and she didn't start work for another week. The outfit she had on now was what she was going to wear to school when she started teaching -- she was supposed to be teaching fifth grade, and could not wait to get started.

The doorbell rang, and she sipped her drink again as she walked to the door, wondering who it was. The high heels seemed to make her lurch slightly, and she giggled just a bit -- she could still not believe she was really married!

She opened the door, and blinked at the two men standing there. One was tall, with wide shoulders and longish brown hair just turning gray -- he was very handsome, and perhaps in his mid-fifties. The other was thirty five or so, with close shorn brown hair and piercing brown eyes that seemed to stare right through her.

The older man stuck his hand out -- "I'm Dan Monroe, ma'am, and this is Steve Hillsborough," he said, smiling at her. Jenny blinked and smiled back as he told her of the church he and his friend were deacons at. She invited them in, and fixed them both a drink. She also poured another margarita. They said they liked to greet newcomers in the neighborhood, and they told enough truths that their lies were very believable. They were in fact deacons at the church they said, but they were in the church because of their wives and had no interest in the spiritual revelations which most of the people went there for. And they didn't, in fact, greet everyone who moved into the neighborhood. Deacon Monroe had seen her, and made discreet enquiries.

Jenny failed to notice the way the men were staring at her -- she was rather naïve, and while she had done well at college, that only entailed a certain amount of book smarts to excel. She knew at some level that her sweater was a bit tight, and the top button left a fair amount of her bosom on display, but she did not really think of it -- she was used to dealing with gentlemen, after all.

Perhaps if her breasts had been a bit smaller there wouldn't be so much flesh showing, but they really were quite large, especially on her small frame.

Her firm breasts, which had already attracted the eye of both men, were at least as big as small cantaloupes and the bra and sweater she had on did little to hide her enormous but well-shaped breasts. It also tautly hugged her curvy little tummy, and the upper slopes of her breasts were pushed up and out by the sexy little half cup bra she was wearing.

Jenny had at some point sat down between the two men, and was telling them all about her husband and how she had just gotten married. She noticed that they kept looking at her exposed cleavage but honestly thought nothing of it. Of course, they were also looking at her legs. She had on white hose, but the skirt kept riding up just a bit, showing off a bit more of her slim, muscular thighs than she thought was proper, but she reasoned that they were good men of the community -- and when she was sitting at school, it would be behind her desk, not next to the students. The sweater was a bit tight, though, she thought again as she was sure that Deacon Monroe was staring at the smooth upper slopes of her breasts.

"So, where are you going to work?" Dan asked as she finished off another margarita. Her head was spinning pleasantly -- she really wasn't used to drinking very much -- and said in a soft voice, "I'm going to be a school teacher."

"I hope it's not for high school kids," Steve said from the other side of her. She realized he was standing, and that he was refilling her glass. She saw him looking down her shirt, and for the first time realized just how much of her soft flesh was on display, especially since he was standing so close. She shivered at the intensity of his gaze he loomed over her, and she dropped her eyes from his for some reason, and found herself staring at his fat cock through his slacks.

"Why not high school?" she asked, and despite herself took a sip of the still frosty drink (when had she made a new pitcher?). She forgot about him staring at her breasts, and did not realize that her skirt had ridden up her long thighs a bit more until Dan Monroe said from the other side of her, "He means he thinks the students wouldn't be able to keep their hands off you," he said smiling slightly, and patted her knee.

Jenny laughed softly, and tried to pretend that she did not notice when the man's hand stayed on her knee, rubbing the silk of her stockings softly.

"I -- I really don't know what you're talking about," she said, shooting looks from the older man to the younger. They were really both rather good looking, Jenny thought to herself, and forgot that Dan's hand was gently pressing and rubbing her thigh directly above her knee now.

"What kind of high school did you go to?" Steve asked, reaching out and laying his hand on her forearm. She had that hand in her lap, and smiled at him slightly.

"Oh, I went to an all-girl high school and college!" she said and blushed slightly as she added, "I didn't even kiss anyone but my husband before we were married!" Jenny bit her lower lip as Dan's hand continued rubbing her thigh. Steve squeezed her forearm softly, and she did not know why she had told these men something so intimate.

Steve said softly, "Mrs. Carter, in public school there is a lot of -- well, uncouth behavior. What would you do if one of the young men tried to make a move on you?"

"Umm, I . . . I'm not sure I know what you mean," Jenny responded breathlessly. She was staring down at Dan's hand, just now realizing that he had slipped his hand far enough up her slim thigh that the tips of his fingers were slipping slightly underneath her pleated skirt.

"What would you do if one of the men tried to kiss you, Mrs. Carter," Dan Monroe said softly, and squeezed the delicious feeling thigh beneath his hand. "What would you do, if you were called to substitute a class at the high school, if a young man tried to kiss you?" His hand squeezed harder, He saw the young woman squirming slightly on the couch. She was obviously unsure of what was going on, and just as obviously rather drunk. A surge of power shot through him, and his fat dick stiffened further inside his pants. He was beginning to think this girl was a born slut!

"I -- I . . ." Jenny took in a deep breath, and said softly, "I really don't think that would happen, Deacon Monroe!"

He smiled at her. "Let's try an experiment, then, Mrs. Carter -- I shall kiss you, and you show me what you would do." The idea was preposterous, of course -- any sane woman would jump up and storm out now, and he would just say that he had been joking, try to smooth it over -- but that was not what happened. Deacon Monroe had enough experience to know that was sometimes just the way it was, and he had made a lot of money on that premise (more about that later).

"That's -- that's insane," she gasped weekly instead of slapping him and storming away from the men. She stared at him out of wide, round eyes. He bent forward slowly, and then slowly pushed his lips to hers. Jenny was so shocked she just sat there -- she had not been lying, her husband was the only other man she had ever kissed, and now a man nearly old enough to be her father was pressing his lips to hers.

This was a different feeling -- her body pulsed strongly, taking her by surprise, and she struggled to control the sharp little gasps her chest was trying to make. His lips seemed super soft and full against her trembling, wet lips, and she felt him moving his lips softly, without opening them, in a way that had her suddenly realizing her she was now holding her breath. She tried to turn her head gently away, but his mouth demanded that she stay still.

She found herself gripping her drink strongly as Deacon Monroe's lips moved subtly against hers. She sat very still, and gasped with shock when she felt his tongue against her lips. He took that shock as ascent, and his tongue licked her even white teeth, and then slipped between them and into her panting mouth.

Jenny sat in shocked silence, unsure what to do other than open her mouth a bit wider to the man's tongue as he began frenching her with more force. She shifted as his tongue explored her wet, hot, panting mouth with more and more intimacy, knowing that she should somehow end the kiss but not sure what she should do to do that. Instead of protesting, instead of expressing righteous indignation, Jenny's mouth opened wider and her breathing deepened as she simply let the man explore her hot wet mouth with his thick tongue.

She kept trying to turn her head halfheartedly away, but his hungry mouth just kept following hers. Despite herself, she opened her mouth wider and realized she was sucking softly on his invading tongue.

Then he was pulling away. Jenny blinked; her head was buzzing pleasantly, and she realized she was panting softly. "They could try to just feel you up, too," Steve said from the other side of her. She turned and frowned at him and said in a prim voice, "But, I'm -- I'm married!" She said softly, and Steve just smiled at her:

"Trust me, Mrs. Carter, to a nineteen year old in high school that won't matter," he said, and then reached up slowly with his left hand. "Your big fucking tits look tremendous -- I don't know a nineteen year old who could resist trying to feel how soft these were - what would you do if a nineteen year old student were to try something like this?"

Jenny looked at his hand out of wide eyes as he slowly reached upward, and then he was rubbing his fingers against the tip of her breast, right against her already slightly swollen nipple. "Uhn, uhhhhnnnnn, ohh, I really don't think a student would do something like that," she gasped softly. His fingers were still just rubbing her stiff nipple, but it was already noticeably stiffer -- it was almost the size of the tip of her thumb, poking through the bra and thin sweater the hapless newlywed was wearing.

Jennie swallowed -- her hands were still clasped high up on her lap -- "Dan, please, you don't think a student would - umnnnn, oh, oooooohhhnnnnn, I mean, would -- umm, would touch me like that do you?"

"High school boys can be really aggressive, Mrs. Carter," he said, his hand inching her loose, pleated skirt further up her slim thigh. Jenny nodded, and tried to ignore the fact that Steve was now grasping her nipple, pulling it out from her firm titglobe while shaking and twisting it. The trouble was, her breasts had always been more than just sensitive -- she could almost bring herself to orgasm from rubbing and pinching her stiff nipples, and that was nothing compared to what she was feeling now -- she knew she should definitely be jumping up and storming off now, but it was more than just the liquor. She was shocked that the man would even touch her like that -- she still thought he was trying to 'teach her a lesson' -- but for some reason she could not explain, she could not do more than protest in a soft voice as his fingers became more demanding, pinching her swollen, pulsing nipple harder and harder on her swelling, soft breast.

"Your nipples look like they're getting really stiff, Mrs. Carter -- a bunch of high school guys would wonder why, and they would ask you."

"Yes, they would, Mrs. Carter," Deacon Monroe said from the other side of her. She shifted, and her slim thighs parted just a bit -- he was sliding his hand now up and down her slim thigh, from just above her knee to the edge of her skirt. Even as she watched, in fact, he pushed it up a bit higher.

Jenny blushed deeply -- "They . . . they've always been like that; they're very sensitive," she said softly, her hands trembling. She knew she should push him away, but for some reason her arms were frozen, hands clasped in her lap.

"So, what would you do in this situation, Mrs. Carter?" Steve asked, and switched his hard, aggressive fingers to her other nipple. Soon he was tugging and twisting on that one as well. Jenny did not know what to do -- soft pulses of lust were shooting through her breasts and taut belly as the middle aged man tweaked and twisted her sensitive nipples, and she tried not to pant to heavily, tried to keep her hands from trembling.

"I -- I'm not sure," she finally conceded as he began squeezing slightly larger portions of her heaving mounds. She looked down and realized that Deacon Monroe has pushed her skirt up high enough so that she could see the thick band at the top of her silk stalking. Jenny tried to clear her mind -- what was going on here? Had she not made it clear to these guys she did not care for their craven advances?

"I don't know what kind of a woman would put up with this," she said softly, wishing that Steve would quit squeezing her firm tit globe as hard as he was.

Then he was bending down, and he was kissing her. Jenny knew she should get up off the couch, should hit them or push them away, but all she managed to do was raise one slim, graceful hand and place it on Steve's forearm. He pressed his lips to hers at the same time he squeezed a large handful of her soft, large breast. She knew she shouldn't, but she simply opened her mouth to him as he began frenching her.

What did these men think she was supposed to do? She wondered as Steve kissed her; his tongue explored every facet of her mouth, and he dueled with her own tongue until she could not stop from kissing him back, and all the while his hand began cupping and kneading her large, heavy breasts in earnest, rolling her heavy globes about her slim chest.

Finally, she was able to somehow break the kiss, and she tried feebly to push Steve's hands away from her now swollen, supersensitive breasts. "Mr. Hillsborough, please, I really -- ohn, my, I really don't think students would be quite this bold -- ohn, my, Mr. Monroe, please, I am quite sure your hand shouldn't be there," she gasped and stammered as she realized that his large, hot hand was all the way under her skirt, and all the way off of her stocking and rubbing her naked thigh with his hand.

"Give me one more kiss, Mrs. Carter, and we will go," Deacon Monroe said, his hand hot on the naked skin of her upper thigh. He squeezed her tender, flushed, super smooth flesh, but between the sensations shooting through body, and the fact that Mr. Hillsborough's hand was becoming much more demanding -- he was squeezing large handfuls of her big, firm breasts -- had the young woman arching her back and letting out a low keening wail.

It took the men a long moment to realize the girl was already having an orgasm -- then they grinned at each other -- Hillsborough had shifted, and he was squeezing and palming both of the gorgeous young wife's big, softly firm breasts at once as she twitched and writhed on the couch, her head thrown back, her eyes shut and beautiful face opened in a gasp of pleasure.

He began unfastening her sweater with one hand while still squeezing her big, responsive breasts with his other. Jenny slowly gasped and came down from the force of the unexpected orgasm. She realized dimly that Hillsborough was unfastening her sweater, but she could not summon the energy to care about that right now. What must these men think of her, acting in such an uncontrolled manner? The young wife asked herself, and then gasped softly as she realized the Deacon was smiling at her, bending towards her -- kissing her.

Her sweet, hot mouth opened to his probing tongue without thought, and she immediately and naughtily began sucking on his tongue as he began kissing her deeply. She moaned softly, and managed to tear her mouth away from his as his skilled, agile hand finally succeeded in pushing her creamy upper thighs far enough apart so he could get his fingers on her silky and already damp pussy.

Jenny huffed a deep grunt at the feel of the man's fingers probing her swollen lips -- then his fingers were rubbing the super smooth silk over her distended swollen little clit in a clockwise motion that had her eyes rolling up in the back of her head. She babbled a soft protest as his mouth explored the slim, sensitive part of her neck, and then probed into her ear as his fingers continued to manipulate her now throbbing clitoris.

Jenny grunted again -- "Ohn, uh, uh, uhnnnnhhh, ooooo, Deacon, I don't -- don't think you should be doing that -- Ohn, Mr. Hillsborough, please don't bite my nipple like that!" Jenny gasped, just now realizing that the other man had completely unfastened her sweater and pried her left breast completely out of its bra cup.

He bit harder on her nipple, and Jenny felt the Deacon's fingers pulling her panties to one side.

"Ohn, jeez, guys, I really -- ohn, uh, uh, uh, uhnnnnnnnnooooooo, yessssssss, ohhnnnn, my!" she gasped again; if anything this orgasm was even bigger than the last. She twitched, and gasped softly about having to do some errands as she floated away on the waves of the orgasm, dimly aware that it was the Deacon sucking on her swollen tits, and ramming two fingers in and out of her spasming pussy hard enough to make her slight frame bounce.

She was unceremoniously picked up, and Steve positioned her on an ottoman, lying on her back. He quickly stripped her panties off as she tried to keep her legs away from him. He finally had her panties off, and had gripped her legs in his hands, pushed them out so her pussy was spread wide. Jenny blushed a deep red as he stared down at her shaved little pussy -- she had done it on a lark a few days ago, and it was already glistening and wet.

She blinked as a pair of hands reached over her and cupped her shuddering tit mounds, and let out a long moan as Steve straightened up -- she realized he had taken his cock out at some point. The thing looked huge, poised at her sopping pussy lips with a fat, bulbous head that looked as big as a lemon.

She shivered harder as he began rubbing it against her pouting, juicy cunt lips. "What would you do if a student tried something like this, Mrs. Carter?" the Deacon whispered in her ear. His hands were more gentle on her big breasts, and Jenny realized she was beginning to breath heavily again that this was having an even bigger affect on her than Steve's harsh tit play had been.

She felt Steve nudging forward, backing off, nudging forward, and backing off. She tried to breathe evenly. "I . . . I would ignore him, and hope he remembered that he is a gentleman," she tried to say calmly, and then when Steve nudged forward his fat, bulbous head slipped all the way inside the tight entrance of her dewy pussy lips.

Jenny let out a long moan as Steve slowly pistoned his fat cock into the young beauties tight, twitching cunny. She cried out softly, and leaned her head back. Her eyes were shut, so she did not realize that the Deacon had also shed his clothes. He grinned down at her as he squeezed and rubbed her silky breasts.