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"If God really exists as described in the Bible, why doesn't He just prove it?" Pausing to sneak a glance at Yesica Antonieta, the callipygous Argentinean exchange student in row two, Professor Glansmear was startled to find the slinky Latina staring at him intently, her dark eyes rotten, smoldering pools of sex. Slowly, deliberately, she licked her lips at him with unmistakably filthy intent, making his beefy porkus balloon with blood. Her sinuous legs were splayed out at an obscene angle, and Glansmear had a sudden flash of intuition: she was stealthily fingering herself under the tight tweed skirt that cinched her robust thighs. Yesica winked at him and snapped her gum. With formidable effort, Glansmear cleared his throat and continued.

"Theologians have argued for centuries about the question of, uh, the question of..." His voiced tailed off. The sight of the girl (head now tilted further back, eyes slits of pleasure and abandonment) was profoundly confusing him. Perplexed, the class followed their prof's gaze. An uneasy shifting in seats and murmuring ensued as some of the brighter students began putting two and two together...

"I warned you, Ms. Antonieta--no creaming in class!"

Glansmear and his students jerked to attention guiltily as Vice Principal Jesticles grimly strode into 6A. His appearance and demeanor recalled that of an 18th century hellfire-and-brimstone preacher, and his nostrils were dangerously a-flare. Ms. Antonieta blithely ignored him, however.

Jesticles knew just how to deal with these situations. Marching across the room, he seized the girl's skirt with his prosthetic arm and, with a flourish like a magician's, brusquely flung it above her waist. A collective gasp arose. Under the silvery panties circumscribing the young lady's taut midriff her fingers were plainly visible; what's more, they were lasciviously caressing her supple cunt-petals.

If Jesticles had banked on shaming his adversary, however, he'd fatally underestimated the authority of the olive-skinned masturbatrix' erotic dominion. Indeed, public exposure of the young coed's velvety thigh, hip, vag and ass expanses only appeared to further fan the flames of her nether-cravings. Accordingly, she sprang forwards from her seat, adroitly landing on all fours and knocking Jesticles' plastic arm clean out of its socket. Sticking her rump into the air and emitting mewling noises like a cat in heat, Yesica seized the limb and slid it under the sodden fabric wedged between her plump thighs. Her tits jiggled like flan as she panted and gyrated frantically against the arm. Seconds later she began to cream ferociously, the first in a seemingly endless series of orgasms that made her buck and writhe across the classroom floor like a snarling, rabid marionette.

Jesticles watched in alarmed disbelief. The episode was certain to leave egg on his face come next faculty meeting; even so, on account of the spectacle his own respectable cock-portion had ossified and was turtle-heading from his trousers. Around 6A, the girls' red and blotchy faces conveyed shame, envy and arousal; a few fragile types were even sobbing. The boys, meanwhile, were bug-eyed, flushed and squirming in their seats; in vain, they tried to shield themselves with their textbooks as Glansmear and Jesticles walked around caning their (and each other's) erect penises. Strangely, this only seemed to act as a further catalyst on Yesica, who proceeded to undertake still more comprehensive auto-digital explorations of womanhood's most fragrant meadow...

Date Written: May 22, 2005
Author: Jon Matza
Average Vote: 4.13636