Exploiting Miss David

A high school teacher's romp with a prominent senior is recorded by a freshman. In exchange for him staying silent, he'll settle for a threesome at a motel!

Part One

My best friend and I began high school in September of 1978. My name is Clarence Willard. His name is Preston Daily. In the first semester, when we were each 14 years old, we were only in one class together. That was Miss David’s French class. We both disliked her from the first day.

Clarence and I had been in the same eighth-grade class and we both liked French that academic year—which made us a little bit on the odd side. It was likely because we had an entertaining teacher named Mr. Granville who tried his best to make his lessons fun each day. Most of our classmates tolerated learning a second language without really embracing it because it was mandatory. Perhaps their general lack of enthusiasm was because almost no one in our hometown in Canada spoke French fluently. During everyday interactions, one was far more likely to encounter non-anglophones speaking Italian, German or Arabic. French was seldom heard. Frankly, I couldn’t recall ever hearing a French conversation in a public place.

Ninth-grade French was no fun at all. Miss David was about 30 years old. In our opinion, she exuded arrogance. She seemed to favor the female students in her classes over the males in all sorts of little ways. However, according to very reliable scuttlebutt, Miss David liked the company of a certain tall, handsome, male senior named Brian Worley who was likely the best athlete in the school. He was the first-string quarterback on the football team. He was also a star on the basketball squad. If the stories about the two of them were to be believed, Brian and the French teacher frequently got intimate behind the locked door of the French room once the final class of the day ended. Everybody whom Preston and I knew at the school had heard the steamy gossip. If the principal or vice principal hadn’t heard it, too, it was likely because they willfully chose to ignore it instead of investigating it. The salacious stories were that prominent.

One day in class, Preston accidentally dropped his pencil case onto the floor when Miss David was explaining the position of an adverb in a particular French sentence. He immediately apologized, but for some bizarre reason, she thought Preston had done it deliberately to interrupt her lesson. When he tried to defend himself, she became unnecessarily belligerent and tossed Preston out of the class. Preston, an A-student who had never gotten into trouble at school in his entire life, was livid as he left the room. “You’ll regret this!” he said cockily. I believed him!

The next day at school, when I spotted him at his locker, I saw that Preston had brought a tape recorder—which was highly unusual for a student to do in the late 1970s. When I asked him if it was for a special project, he enigmatically replied, “Yes, but not for a typical school project, Clarence. It’s to gather some important evidence.”

Of course, I asked him to elaborate. He did. Preston had observed that Miss David typically left her classroom for a short time after the final class of the day had been dismissed, leaving it unoccupied. According to the prevailing rumors, she often returned with Brian Worley trailing not far behind her. Then she locked the door—and then they did what all the juicy rumors said they did. Preston explained to me that he was going to enter the French room during the critical few minutes it was vacated, place the tape recorder in one of the desks, turn it on, and see what words and noises it picked up. I smiled at his daring plan and wished him good luck with it.

Preston lingered in the hallway near Miss David’s French room as long as he could until he saw Brian and her leave her classroom a few seconds after each other. He went back and retrieved his tape recorder. When he got home, Preston discovered he had hit the jackpot. He excitedly telephoned me with his news. On the audiotape, Miss David could plainly be heard telling her paramour to “Shove your big, hard dick into my wet pussy, Brian. I’ve been waiting all day for it, you stud!” Then there were about 10-minutes of sensual moans and exclamations of sexual satisfaction.

I congratulated him on his successful, albeit sneaky way of gathering damning evidence against Miss David. When I asked him what he was going to do with the recording, he said he was going to carefully ponder his options “for the greatest possible personal benefit.” I wished him well and hung up the phone. Frankly, I could hardly wait to see what ideas Preston came up with. The possibilities seemed endless.

The next day during lunch period, Preston stopped Miss David in the hallway and quietly said to her, “This will come as a major surprise to you, but I have a tape recording of you having sex with Brian Worley in your classroom yesterday afternoon. Does the phrase, ‘Shove your big, hard dick into my wet pussy’ ring a bell with you?”

Preston told me that Miss David immediately turned ashen. She knew that Preston wasn’t lying because he had quoted her so accurately. Therefore, she didn’t even attempt to discredit what he had just told her. She told him to accompany her to her classroom where they could discuss the matter privately. Preston agreed. He sensed he possessed all the leverage he needed to get whatever he wanted from her. Therefore, he cooly pressed his advantage.

He brusquely told her, “I could take this tape to the principal’s office right now, play it to Mr. Bradford, and your teaching career would come to a crashing, permanent halt within the next hour. In fact, because I dislike you so much, I have a huge desire to do just that—unless you persuade me in the next 30 seconds to do otherwise.”

Preston said he could see panic grip Miss David. Her facial expression turned grim. Before she had a chance to say anything, Preston added a few further details. “By the way I have the audiotape with me. It’s in my pocket. But I’ve made three other copies and given them to three different people to safeguard.
There will always be copies out there in case something mysterious happens to this one I have. You have no way out of this mess unless you cooperate with me, Miss David. Yes, this is extortion in its purest form.”

Preston later confessed to me the part about him making three copies was totally false. How to do that task was beyond him—but Miss David didn’t know that. As far as she knew, there were four audiotapes of her having a steamy sexual encounter with one of her students.

Miss David led Preston into her classroom. There Preston was able to successfully demand $500—to be paid by check the following day; a guaranteed “A” in her French class for the whole semester; and a sexual threesome with her the following day at a local motel—which she would pay for.

I laughed when Preston told me about how successful his negotiations had been. Then he hit me with a huge surprise: I was to be the third person in the threesome with Miss David!

I was quite stunned by it all. “Why me?” I asked.

“You’re my best friend and you dislike Miss David, too,” Preston explained. “I figured you should benefit from this windfall at least a little bit.”

Now that’s what I call a friend! I shook Preston’s hand as an act of thanks.

Part Two

The next day, as had been arranged, Miss David—who insisted we call her by her first name (Beth)—handed Preston an envelope with his $500 personal check at the end of French class. She was to pick up both of us at the plaza two blocks from the school half an hour after the final bell. We’d be waiting for her in front of the pizzeria there. (Preston thought it might look suspicious if we got into Beth’s car in the school’s parking lot.) She would drive us to the motel. Until I actually got into the car, Beth had no idea I was the third person in the threesome. She arrived precisely on time and didn’t seem overly shocked that I was indeed the third person. Off we went to the Easy Slumber motel, locally famous for its low hourly rates and quick turnover in amorous clients.

To my surprise, the clerk thought nothing about a thirtyish woman renting a room for herself and two 14-year-old boys. I guess he had seen worse than that. Beth got the key to Room #15. We swiftly walked down a narrow corridor until we saw that number on a door.

This was a first for me—in every aspect. I wasn’t sure how much sexual experience Preston had, but he was putting up a fine façade as someone who was experienced in the bedroom. He assertively took charge of things. He said we should all get undressed. “Beth,” he instructed, “you will suck on our penises to get them hard before we all climb onto the bed.” Apparently, I didn’t get a say in what would happen, but I really didn’t mind being ordered about in such an unusual and pleasurable situation.

I watched Beth disrobe. She was about 5’5” and had short, curly blonde hair. She had an average-size bosom and a nondescript face. I figured she had to have low self-esteem to be chasing high school boys at her age—even one as prominent as Brian Worley. The more I looked at her breasts, the more I liked them. I was more than okay when Preston said he’d begin by fucking Beth’s pussy, while I could do anything else that came to my mind. Handling her goodies came to mind.

Preston and I both stripped. We both had erections, despite not liking the person who was about to perform fellatio on them. Beth was clearly experienced in sucking males’ dicks. She kneed in front of us, just to the right of the bed, moving from one penis to the other every few seconds to keep us both satisfied and occupied. I quickly understood why receiving a blowjob was very desirable to males who had attained puberty and beyond. The sensation I was getting was great—especially when Beth alternated between licks and sucks on my shaft.

“Lick our balls too, Beth!” Preston insisted. I never would have thought of that, but Preston’s command was promptly followed and enjoyed by the two of us. “You’re a good little whore, Beth,” Preston told her in a deliberately demeaning way.

With both of us now sporting obvious stiffies, Beth and I climbed onto the bed. Preston remained on his feet. He knew what he was doing. I waited for Preston to mount Beth, which he did while standing with our French instructor positioned on her back with her bum on the edge of the bed. As Ben inserted his penis into Beth’s waiting vagina, I positioned myself on the bed near her face. I was quite content to have her continue sucking my shaft while I played with her tits. Her nipples quickly became hard. I figured I must be doing a good job on them. I tried to shove my dick into her mouth as far as it would go. She gagged a couple of times. I thought it was sexy.

At one point, I straddled Beth to give her a titty-fuck. I had seen pictures of that specific sex act in a porn magazine once. It intrigued me and I swore I would do it sometime if I ever came across a willing female. Since Beth was being coerced into this, she couldn’t be any more cooperative. As I merrily slid my dick between her breasts, I looked upon her face with total lust and zero affection. This was purely a biological experience for me. I cared nothing at all for Beth David romantically. I just wanted a meaningless sexual experience with her as merely the female provider and the recipient of my sperm. I’m sure Preston felt exactly the same way as he continued to ram Beth’s shaved pussy. I could tell he wasn’t being gentle with her in the slightest.

Preston gave another command. “Up the ass now, Beth!” he told her. “Preston, she can ride your dick while I fuck her bum.” I wasn’t about to lie, so I enthusiastically said, “That sounds great to me, Preston. That’s a very good idea, my friend!”

I took the spot where Beth had been, lying on my back in the lower center of the bed. She climbed aboard me and deftly inserted my penis into her vagina and, once Preston had entered her anus, she began bouncing on me. Again, this was utterly a new experience for me. It felt great to have my manhood snugly lodged inside a female. Beth’s pussy was warm and inviting. I could understand why Brian Worley wanted to fuck her as frequently possible. I also envied Preston for having a great visual which I was in no position to see: his dick up her bum while mine was wedged inside her bald vagina.

Preston and I both lasted about the same time before we each launched a load of semen into the crevice we occupied. I uttered a yelp of joy when I came. The sensation of several ropes of my warm jism flowing into Beth’s vagina was absolutely heavenly to me. Less than a minute later, I heard Preston grunt softly when he came. Cum dripped out of both of Beth’s bodily openings. Some of Preston’s goo ended up falling onto my legs. It was icky to be sure, but it was also a small price to pay for such a wild and wonderful sexual experience.

At Preston’s request, we all took a cleansing shower together. It was a tight fit. Preston spent most of it fondling Beth’s boobs because he hadn’t really had the chance to do that pleasant task when she was lying on the bed. I fondled her pussy for the same reason. Beth scrubbed out dicks with a soapy sponge. She seemed to enjoy doing that. We were out of the motel room about an hour after we had arrived.

We didn’t say very much during the short drive home. Preston instructed Beth to drop us off at the plaza exactly in the same spot where we had waited for her. When she let us out, Beth said, “I’ve lived up to my end of the bargain. Preston, you’ve been paid $500 and fucked my ass and my pussy as part of a threesome. Clarence reaped the benefits too. I want to hear no more about that audio tape ever again. There’s no point in my having it if three other people still have copies of it. Preston, you can keep it for your own amusement. I won’t tell Brian that he was recorded by you.” Then she drove off.

Preston and I looked at each other. Before heading in separate directions, I commented, “Oh, well…Today was just a typical school day.” I said it without emotion before cracking an enormous grin. Then I added, “Thanks a million for letting me in on that excellent adventure. Now tell me one thing, please, Preston: What’s it like to fuck an adult female up the ass? You seemed to be enjoying yourself back there.”

Preston confessed with a cheeky smile that anal sex had been a new experience for him. He honestly didn’t know what to expect when he tried it—but he liked the feeling. We shook hands and headed to our respective houses. I told my parents I was home later than usual because I had been doing some pleasure reading tin the school library. Neither Mom nor Dad questioned that story as it was something I did quite often.

About a year later, Beth David’s sexual desires for teenage boys finally caught up with her. Brain Worley had graduated high school. Since he was no longer available to provide his sexual services to Beth, she lusted after another of our school’s prominent scholar-athletes. He was Miller Murphy, the tall and very handsome captain of the school’s basketball team. They had a few frolics in her classroom. The rumors started again. Miller came from a highly religious family, and someone ratted him out to his parents when the rumors spread beyond the confines of the school. He quickly confessed to having had multiple sexual encounters with his amorous French teacher. Beth, to no one’s surprise, was quickly fired. Mr. Bradford, the school’s principal, was given the ax, too, when it became obvious that he had deliberately not investigated the rumors of her horizontal activities from previous academic years. Why was that? One rumor had Mr. Bradford sweeping the scandal under the carpet in exchange for the occasional romp with Beth. Was it true? I don’t know. Was it possible? Absolutely! What became of the two of them? I never did find out.

Despite the ongoing temptation to brag about what happened at the Easy Slumber Motel, neither Preston nor I ever told anyone about our afternoon there with Beth. Audio technology became a lifelong passion for Preston. Amusingly, he later became an expert in that field for a major Hollywood studio.