I confess: Why are those goddamn filthy niggers always killing the hot white teachers? Newsflash, niggers: this ain't the jungle where your gorilla relatives still live. This is the U.S. where you can buy your meat in the grocery store. You don't have to kill a hot white teacher every time you get hungry!

Fucking niggers!

Beyond the Horizon

Part 1

One of the lessons you learn after years of driving is that at some point or another, you’re going to experience the pain of repetition and predictability. Even when I first started off on the journey, I never had a destination in mind. It’s like as soon as I sat down and closed the door, it was getting hazy. It’s apparent to me now that from the moment I turned that old key and fired her up I was totally unsure of to exactly where I thought I was going. Driving is one of my greatest pleasures. There’s a sincere innocence in the act of driving. I lost sight of much of that, and from time to time I wasn’t sure if I was even in control. From a certain perspective the relationship between the machine and it’s controller breaks down, and it can become objectively difficult to distinguish which is driven by which.

To be fair, the warning signs were all over the place. It felt like I couldn’t go more than ten seconds without some sign, a precaution, a rule, a rule of thumb, a word of advice whispered in confidence. I always did my best to be a responsible driver. For the longest time I did my best to obey all the rules of the road, back before I knew better, or perhaps until I thought I knew better. Experience is the greatest teacher, not to mention the harshest. It’s common knowledge that to learn from experience makes even the worst decisions worthwhile. Sometimes it’s simply the only thing that one can take away from the curveballs so often thrown one’s way. The problem for the unwise lies in working out what lesson the accused is to take away from his crime. For the introspective the problem is rarely not seeing the problem at hand. They can even take precautions to make sure that one accident is never repeated, by not repeating whatever lead to disaster the first time around. For the experienced, and by that I mean the scarred, the disfigured, those drivers who possibly still hurt every waking day of their lives, there are an entirely different set of problems, regardless of their ability to learn from past experiences. The problem faced by the salty, by the ones who well and truly drove around that block more than they care to admit, is the inability to disengage from what they think they know best, and in doing so they find themselves sat exactly where they were before they even released the handbrake. One cannot escape his past, cannot escape the stupid things they did. But to make matters worse, they begin to see that so many of the reflective, glaring, fluorescent signs they are bombarded with as they hit the highway begin to contradict each other. They blur, they all look the same, sound the same. It seems impossible to follow one highway code without breaking another. At first, one particularly thoughtful individual might find, there seemed to be one over-arching Way. The irrefutable Tao of the road. The one true way. I miss that idea. I’ve reached a point where no matter how hard I try and see things as I used to, either I changed, or the rules did.

And so those rare unfortunates may find the signs begin to undermine each other. Slow down, but speed up. Be cautious, but never so more than you’re being brazen. Make sure to flaunt every last thing you have and haven’t ever done, because nobody likes It when you brag. And so experience fails you. It begins to lie to you, and even when you’re aware that there is clearly deception afoot, you become a man looking at a map with no reference as to where in the fuck they actually are. It’s at this point in my career as a driver that I also realised that for all the years I had been driving, I could not remember where I was going. I knew that I had been driving for a very long time, and I think at certain points I had stopped off at places, and I still remember the people I picked up. Some of them drove with me for the longest time. I always liked having passengers, but sooner or later, the destination is reached, and the journey has come to an end. But I digress. At a certain point, I found myself lost. It was the worst kind of lost, in that not only did I not know at all where and when I was, but in that I had totally forgotten where I had originally intended to go. I could not even remember at what point I had forgotten everything about myself. All I knew was in looking in the mirror, I was sure I didn’t recognise myself. I could not even describe the person who stared back at me. The Driver was a man about which you could say so much, but I’m quite certain that none of the obvious things you could gleam from that countenance were objectively correct. Nothing I’ve ever experienced has been quite so simple as that. First impressions are hard to resist, however. In a way it didn’t matter that I’m sure in some ways I recognised the Driver’s face, because from the moment I met his eyes with mine, I knew he’d always be a simple mystery to me, destined to be my enemy, the one who knew me the best.

He had the look of the man who has learned from experience as he lit that cigarette. The glow from the lighter revealed a face older and more weathered than I’m sure my own face was. He looked bad. I was certain he didn’t have the slightest good intention in mind for me, and yet everything in his eyes and in the tone of his voice struck me as sincere and well meaning. He spoke to me as if he knew me. We’re on the road now aren’t we? I’ve always loved these warm nights, the heady smell in the air. He grinned, and his eyes lit up. I suddenly felt thirsty. Thirstier than I’ve ever felt in my life. There was adrenaline coursing through my body now, and most of my worry had suddenly receded. As he rolled down the window, an old and child-like excitement crossed his face, as a child who is told on Christmas day that the best present has been saved to last. What does it even matter where we’re going? The pleasure’s in the driving. It’s also in the uncertainty. We passed a strange scene by the side of that long road. This struck me because until now it had all been so blank. There was a cow being led down the road by two men, one in front, and one following up from behind. We passed so quickly that the image struck me as an old black and white picture would have, fixed in my mind without the suggestion of fading. It was like some grim scene from a foreign abattoir, and I felt my spirit drop, knowing where the cow’s destination lay despite all his ignorance. He looked complacent if not slightly confused as to his predicament, being lead by his handlers as he was. For some unknown reason, I honestly felt very sad for him. Then I laughed. Fucker should have evolved faster. I couldn’t but help show the slightest disapproval, even if deep down something in me knew it was true. It would be pretty much the same if the boot was on the other foot. Or hoof. You get my drift. I laughed again, and I wasn’t sure if it was humour or desperation I heard in that laugh. It sounded strange to me, but laughs always sound strange when you really listen to them. Everyone knows what a laugh means, but that shit can’t be found in any dictionary I ever heard of.

I confess that married teachers are fucking sluts. Mrs. A on the left teaches english and is in her 30's and Mrs. C on the right teaches english and is also in her 30's. I'm Mr. York and I'm in my 30's. imgur.com/a/HMVfz

I confess that, years ago, I messed with a coworker so often that I may have caused some mental damage. I was in my low 30's and he was about 21 and was new at our firm. His name was Kenny. We became pretty good friends and would hang out from time to time. Not sure who instigated the pranks, but it was on. I guess I exploited his inexperience and was always one step ahead of him. One night, we were on my front porch and he reminded me of just how many things that I did to him. Most of them I had forgotten and have since forgotten again.
I do remember when he and I, along with another friend, went to a bar. We were playing billiards when a cute dishwater blonde came through the door. She sat at the bar and Kenny couldn't take his eyes off of her and continuously spoke of how cute she was. I went over to the bar and told her I needed a partner in a game of pool. So we played against the two friends. Kenny became even more intrigued with her. Later, she and I went back to the bar for a beer. Kenny naturally followed and stayed close to our conversation, although he couldn't hear it. I took advantage of his eagerness to join the conversation by fabricating flaws about him to her and then pull him into the conversation at the precise moment. For instance, I told her that he was a little slow and that he was in Special Education classes in high school because of those mental issues. I added that Mrs. Dothard was his Special Ed. teacher. At that moment, I turned to him and asked "Kenny, you know Mrs. Dothard don't you?". Again, his eagerness to join the conversation led him to lean in and reply "Yeah, yeah. yeah!". I went on like that for about an hour. When I told him the next day at work just what I was doing, he was both embarrassed and a little pissed.
I also remember that I would keep some candy on my desk at work and Kenny would go to my desk and eat some of it when I would leave the room from time to time. One day I sprayed some M&M's candy with hairspray, put it back in the opened bag and placed it on the filing cabinet. I pretended to go to the restroom, turned and walked back in the office. I caught him halfway from my desk to his, spitting out M^M's.
I introduced Kenny to a lot of classic rock and roll that he had never heard. So he liked to ride out to my place and listen to my albums. Only after 4:20. For you younger generation, music used to be recorded on vinyl discs called albums. I bought an album cleaning brush from Kenny. He placed a small sheet of paper in the brush case that read "FOOL", which was his nickname for me. I played an album the first night that I had the brush and found the note. He asked me every day at work if I had listened to an album the night before. I always replied "No, too busy". He followed me home one Friday after work to chill and listen to music. As we walked in the door, he tells me to put on an album. I made up something that I had to do first and for him to play one and I would play the next. I insisted he use the brush. When he did, he found my note that read "FUCK YOU".
I did other things, but I will end with this one. Kenny's car broke down and he needed to sell quickly. I gave him the name of a guy I know who owns a wrecker service, plus buys and sales used cars. Kenny contacted him and the wrecker guy offered him $400.00 dollars, sight unseen, for the car. Knowing the nature of the wrecker guy and how he would react, I told Kenny to call the guy back and tell him you want to shop the price. "He will offer you more money", I told Kenny. He did and the wrecker guy's response was "Good luck" and he hung up the phone. A month later, Kenny paid the same guy $100.00 to haul off the car.

My wife is a fucking slut whore,,, Shes a 34 yearold teacher and fucks other guys all the time.. She says its because of my small cock..
tell me how you would punish her please... i would like to skype with a guy that talks shit about my small dick while making me share pics of my wife

I'm a married woman who loves cheating ;) I started about six months ago and I've had four different guys do me without my husband knowing. My yoga teacher fucks me about every week, I've had two spontaneous dates and a colleague fucked me in his car after work :)

I love how exciting it is, the attention from other guys and turning them on...

An old teacher of mine. I always wanted to fuck her

Bernard's Cock

This is the confessional story of how Bernard was able to fuck whoever he wanted in class.

Bernard was timid and shy, and his thin body reflected this. However, as is often the case with such a person, he was the horniest of fuckers. Losing his virginity permeated his thoughts throughout every minute of his waking life, and when he slept, well, needless to say all his dreams had a common theme. Every morning Bernard awoke to the disappointment that the cunt he thought he'd finally been penetrating, was just another dream, and that in fact all he had achieved in doing was to make his pyjamas wet and sticky about the groin area again.

Eighteen and the closest he'd been to fucking was in his dreams. However, an unearthly gift was about to change all this.

The first time it happened, Bernard was in Math class. Sitting absentmindedly as ever, Bernard would alternate his gaze between the clock on the wall, and the view out the window. The girls were playing volleyball in the playground. He would try not to stare at them for too long, firstly so that he wasn't caught, and secondly so that he wouldn't get an erection in class. Every time one of the girls would jump to shoot, he would narrow his vision at their vest covered breasts, some were larger than others, but all gave him equal delight.

Turning his attention back to his text book, Bernard couldn't help but notice the pink thong of the girl in the desk in front of his. She was Jessica Riley, and she was the prettiest of things. Seeing her thong from behind, Bernard couldn't help but imagine what the front would look like, how she would look with nothing but the thong on, with her long brunette hair resting on her naked shoulders. How he would love to pull her thong to oneside and taste her fresh pussy, how her body would writhe under the influence of his tongue up her cunt. Bernard's breaths begin to become shorter when all at once his thoughts were suddenly broken.

Mrs Adams was standing over his desk. "Distracted by something again Bernard?", she enquired in harsh tones.
"No Mrs, sorry Mrs", fell the words out of his embarrassed red face.

Leaning forward, Mrs Adams continued to lecture Bernard on the importance of remaining focused in class and studying well. However it fell on dead ears, Bernard had already been distracted by her low cut top, draping off her shoulders, exposing first her collar bones, then her well defined cleavage. Bernard tried to retain eye contact with Mrs Adams, tried to look as if he was paying attention to her words. It was too dificult. He Intermittently nodded to simulate agreement with what she was saying, however this was merely an excuse to catch a glimpse down her blouse.

Seeing the top of her black lace bra, remembering the sight of Jessica's pink thong. Imagining Mrs Adams and Jessica naked together, rubbing each others bodies, kissing each others lips. Picturing them on their knees under his desk, pulling down his trousers, seeing their astonished faces as he reveals his gigantic cock (it wasn't). Bernard could no longer suppress the feeling in his boxers, a bead of sweat rolled down his face, and his cock all of a sudden was erect.

As instantaneously as Bernard's cock was hard, Mrs Adams speech wash frozen. He looked up awaiting the next sentence but it didn't come. He looked around, no one was moving. He looked out the window, the girls had stopped playing volleyball, frozen like statues in their sporting poses. Finally he looked back at the clock on the wall, it ticked no longer. In total shock, Bernard rose from his seat. Shaking like a leaf he reached out to touch Mrs Adams' arm. It was warm and soft, she remained totally motionless and unaffected.

The distress evident on Bernard's face slowly faded as his parted lips transformed into a wry grin. The realisation time was frozen and his cock was rock solid made Bernard overwhelmed with a strange blend of fear and joy. Building in confidence, he reached for Mrs Adams' tits, the first non-maternal pair he'd ever felt. He squeezed them with delight. In the blink of an eye he had removed her blouse, and then - not without difficulty - removed that seductive lace bra, dropped it to the floor, and almost awe struck eye-balled her large exposed tits. Those grand orbs of desire, framed and enhanced by a thin waist and slender shoulders. Bernard was beside himself.

Removing his own top, Bernard moved closer to Mrs Adams. He threw his arms around her waist tightly to feel her naked torso against his. He tasted her lips, slid his hands down her trousers and groped her firm ass cheeks. After feeling her tongue with his own one, he moved down to kiss her neck, in doing so he saw it again - over Mrs Adams' shoulder - the pink thong of Jessica Riley.

How had he forgotten about Jessy, sitting there, bent forward, frozen. He stepped away from Mrs Adam's body, approached Jessica's desk. She sat there with the end of a pencil in her mouth. How innocent she looked clearly deliberating on one of the problems from class. Bernard was transfixed by her pretty frozen face, by her soft lips teasing the end of that pencil, he couldn't resist any longer. Her head was at a perfect height, he turned it towards his crotch and dropped his trousers. He ripped off his boxers and manually opened her mouth, then - slowly yet purposefully - buried his throbbing cock in her gob. He felt her wet tongue before the back of her mouth.

His heart beating like a drum, Bernard lost all self-control. Taking hold of her head with both hands, Bernard begin thrusting in and out of her mouth. The silence in the room was broken by the sound of squelching and of Bernard's balls ricocheting off her chin. Jessica's mouth became ever fuller with spit and bile as she began to gag on Bernards cock which gave him a shock. He took his cock out her mouth to see if she had awoken. She hadn't, but moreover, she was more beautiful than ever. Frozen in time with saliva hanging between her mouth and his cock, her eye make-up a mess.

Bernard lifted Jessica out of her chair. Fortunately she stood of her own accord. Starting from the top down, Bernard unbuttoned her shirt one by one. She didn't wear a bra, and her perky budding tits were a sight to behold. Small, unassuming, fucking perfect. Her body was just as Bernard had imagined. Petite as anything, slightly tanned, soft, delicate, ripe.

Bernard continued to strip both his mannequinesque beauties completely bear. He looked around the room at all the other frozen faces, but with little inspection was sure he already had the two finest women in the room stripped naked, ready at his disposal. He pushed Mrs Adam's onto his desk face up, and positioned her body so that her head dangled off the end. With some effort and plenty of huffing and puffing, he lifted Jessica's body on top of Mrs Adams' the other way around and on all fours, so that her hairless pussy rested right above Mrs' Adams' upside down face.

Bernard stood back and admired his perfect fucking creation. Proudly he stood up to it, kissed Jessica's pretty little ass cheek (for it looked so sweet), then angled his cock down towards Mrs Adams' mouth. He secured the two bodies in place with his hands, and begin to pummel her mouth like a rabid dog fucks their favourite toy.

Once again the room was full of the sound of gagging. This time Mrs Adams' mouth squelching whilst spit spluttered out all over her face. Bernard stopped fucking her face for a moment, again admiring his creation and the mess he'd made of it.

Using his hand, he cupped up some of the saliva from his cock and Mrs Adams' messy face, and dribbled it over Jessica's ass. Bernard returned his cock to Mrs Adam's throat, burying his whole length in there as far is he could go, holding it there for a few seconds so to lube up his cock. He pulled it out again, took a firm grip of Jessica's hips, and with some force required, squeezed his cock into her asshole.

Her asshole, tight as it was, gradually parted, expended, and engulfed the head of Bernard's cock. He slid inch after inch, deeper and deeper into her shitter, and as he reached maximum penetration, she wimpered.

Again Bernard feared she had awoken. He reached forward and turned her head to face him. It was still motionless, yet now it bore an expression of discomfort. Still angling her face towards him, Bernard removed all but the head of his cock from her ass. Staring deeply into her eyes (still beautifully framed by her messed up makeup), he slammed his cock hard up her ass to the sound of flesh slapping flesh and another whimper. Certainly she was still frozen in time, but to Bernard' delight, she quietly whimpered as he continued to pound her ass.

After a few minutes of fucking Jessica's pretty little ass, he removed his cock, and spat onto her barely gaping hole. It slid over her asshole, down the ravine between her red ass cheeks towards her pussy, before dripping on Mrs Adams' face. The sight of this excited Bernard immensely, and joyfully he returned his ass stenching cock to Mrs Adams' throat.

He pounded away gleefully, alternating between the teachers gob and the students asshole, the messier Mrs Adams' face became, and the more Jessica whimpered, the more Bernard became excited. Frantically he fucked both of them until he felt a contortion in his stomach. Uncontrollably, as if possessed, he stretched Jessica's ass cheeks wide apart, found her drenched wet cunt with the head of his cock, plunged the whole thing in, and instantly erupted. With a demonic grunt, the likes of which Bernard did not know he could produce, Bernard was finished.

So that's the story of how Bernard lost his virginity (if you can call it that). After cumming (and taking a moment to watch his cum spew out of Jessica's pussy onto Mrs Adams' face) he quickly cleaned and dressed the pair, and soon as his cock was soft again, the clock ticked again. Needless to say Jessica and Mrs Adams' were might confused as to why their makeup had suddenly became a mess, why Jessica's ass was sore, and why Mrs Adams' had lost her voice. However it remained an unsolved mystery.

From that day onwards, whenever Bernard got an erection, time froze. Might this gift turn out to be a curse for our timid Bernard. Who knows? All Bernard knows, is that he had the best fucking experience of his life, one that he couldn't have even dreamed off without his magic cock.

any professors out there? it's the philosophy ones that get me, the slightly hallow eyes that come from a life long stuggle to maintain convictions despite the overwhelming meaninglessness so clearly evidenced, or maybe its the lack of boundries the material necessitates that already presses the boundries, teasing out what pleasure is, maybe its the layers of sweaters or maybe the 20 minute digressions on latin word roots, or even a weird say, teacup obsession. or that thrill when a teacher has to wisper something in your ear, and you know he can smell the pot smoke and sex on you, and he linnnnngers. anyway if there are any guys out there who wanna mix daddy issues, teacher power dynmamics or generally flipping a silly college girl over a podium to slap her ass and fuck a good essay into her, message me. 20/f/ma

are there any honest, true, hott,horny folks, females, males, cpls, subs, cpls where there are switches, etc. for this dominate Master and my love, slave naan? wild, dirty, kinky, slutty whores, where anything taboo goes who are what they/you ARE/DO WHAT YOUR WORDS SAY? it seems all these posts ask about others, rate my cock, would you fuck my sisters, aunts daughters teacher, well fuck yeah, BUT what about YOU, in the first person? we are also slutty fucking whores as well, hell we gave up meeting anyone face to face, but what about a great texting/pm which harms no one becum really intense and lets go. what is this site about, children who tell stories and string out bullshit for ...... CUM on, really honest, truthful folks with real honest, truthful sexual inner pent up "Wants'n'Needs" to explore as well as those all ready going on, we want the same.
not once has any person no matter what the kink answered a note being serious, it is a fucking shame, i could go to that place "CHUCKY CHEESE" and find more truthful real people for they know pretty much the truth.
my challenge is this, who is as willing as we are to be as honest and open as we are BUT REAL,
i wonder if that is really difficult.
now is a good time...

I'm looking for a video of some BBW giving a BBC a rimjob as a treat after he fucks her on her bed (I think). I think she has glasses and brown hair and may be a teacher. Has anyone seen this?